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augenblicklich-lila · 2 months

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Supernatural x Twilight~

(Jasper multi shot)

| One | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

Since I joined the Winchesters I've noticed that most of the monster fighting lands on Thursday's and I brought it up to the brothers. Sam being the smart one who was well read and knew most of the lore, began to laugh leaving me and dean confused.

"Shit! She's right?" Dean said but instead of laughing like his brother his face looked like he was having an existential crisis. "Sammy, why you laughing?"

"Castiel, Angel of the lord and Angel of thursdays." Sam said bluntly pointing his thumb at the Trenchcoat wearing Angel.

Dean rubbed his mouth before grinning as well.

I turned to the ever present Angel. "So it's your fault!" I said sarcastically.

Castiel blinked rapidly before bowing his head a little. "I'm sorry." He apologized.

"No, no, Cas! Sarcasm! I'm being sarcastic— I don't actually blame you." I spoke rapidly to the Angel while waving my hands rapidly.

"I know." Castiel said and smiled mischievously. Dean bumped the angels shoulder and snorted.

"Your a punk!" I said while getting up to get another round of beers from the fridge.

"Hey, only punk here is you kid. Still look like your 16 going on 17." Dean teased me because I was the youngest of our little hunter group. Cas being a whopping billion years old and Dean going on 32 and Sam on 28. I'm only 21, but I still look like some bright eyed teen getting ready for Highschool. Helpful on cases with children and teens because they were more likely to talk to me and monsters underestimate my age. But it makes it really hard to pose as a fbi agent or go to bars looking so young.

"Hardy har-har old man." I tease back. Easily popping the seals on the beer before handing them to their respective owner.

"I'm not that old." Dean grumbled but smiled anyway knowing I was joking.

Just like every Thursday, we were once again on another monster hunt.

"You know this is great, fighting on Thursday's. Because then we always get a nice three day weekend between cases." I say between killing another monster.

"Oh yeah nice for you! I'm the one who has to drive us to the next case. And you sit in the back snuggled up to my Angel, sleeping." Dean argues, ducking under a monster's arm.

"I offered to drive!" I say laughing as I block another hit.

"Nuuh no way in any hell I'm letting you drive baby after what you did to that stolen car!" Dean shouts back.

"I was running over a werewolf!!" I defend.

"Guys! Less fighting, more fighting!" Sam says from the left trying to hold off his own monster.

I rush to his aid and decapitate his monster. I wink while handing him a machete he dropped and run back into the fray. "If your so bothered, me sleeping with your Angel. Why doesn't he sit in your lap while you drive or would that be too distracting for you!" I tease at dean while twirling out of the way of another monster.

"Marcella!!" Dean said scandalized and was almost hit by his monster before killing it.

All the monsters were killed and we began dragging them to make a fire pile. "How the hell you two have a conversation between fighting is beyond me." Sam says while throwing another body on the pile.

Dean slings his arm around my shoulder. "It's a talent." He says proudly.

I shove his arm off and smile. "It's telepathy." I joke.

We stand around the burning pile and continue to talk. We walk back to the impala and are greeted by Cas asking if the hunt went well.

I blink and instead of standing in knee high grass I stumble on an ansphalt road. I look around, expecting to see Sam, Dean or Cas and met with crickets. I take in my surroundings more before reaching for my phone out of my back pocket. The phone has no service so I begin to walk down the stretch of road in what I hopes toward civilization. I pass a sign that says:

"The city of Forks, Washington. Welcomes you."

I continued to walk down the barren road until arriving at a little town. I found the nearest pay phone and began dialing every number I recall the Winchesters using, even calling Castiel's phone.

"I'm sorry but the number your calling cannot be reached." A dial tone responded.

I hung up in aggravation before moving to the nearest motel and checking in for the night. I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands.

It could be Crowley playing another game. It's not the first time I've been zapped somewhere else or kidnapped. Even Lucifer has had his chance to fuck around.

This isn't heaven. Because I may have never been but even I know my heaven wouldn't be some rando town in the middle of Washington. And it's not hell, Dean told me some of what hell is. And based on my lack of torture...

Did I really just get dropped off in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason?

The next day I walked around town and was confronted by an officer. I read his name tag and it said Chief Swan. What surprised me was when he spoke, to summarize he scolded me for playing hooky and then gave me a ride to the local Highschool. He even asked if I was from the reservation to which I shook my head no. He dropped me off and pointed me inside, not leaving until I entered the building.

For a moment, while I was riding in the back of the cop car, I considered using a fake ID on him to make him leave me alone but decided against it. Who knows how I got here or when I can get back to the guys. So for now, I wait for my captor/kidnapper reveals themself. Until then I guess I lay low until Sam and Dean get my messages.

It was much harder than I thought to lay low. I had only been in the building for twenty minutes and was already turning heads. Was it the oversized flannel I stole from Sam or the clunky boots that could crush skulls. Maybe it was my posture, and the way I kept my hand on my knife in my pocket. It could have been any of those but 95% of the student body population avoided me for the first hour.

I had been dropped off so late in the day that by then it was lunch. I followed the overbearing noise with gritted teeth and got food before sitting. Apparently 'avoid the newbie' was over as a boy and two girls walked over to me.

A brown haired girl with a preppy attitude and a black haired girl that seemed more nerdy. The boy was black haired and also nerdy.

"Hi, I'm Jessica and this is Angela. Your the new kid right?" The brown haired girl said.

"And I'm eric, the eyes and ears of this place! And there if you need a shoulder to cry on." The boy flirts and my lip lifts in a snarl, even when Dean jokingly flirts he does a better job.

Being around new people in an environment I didn't like was putting me on edge, so my response may have come out harsher than I'd liked. "That's cute did you find that pickup line in a Tween magazine?" I bit my tongue to keep from being overly aggressive any further. "I'd like to eat my lunch in peace."

"What the hell! He was jsut trying to be polite!" Jessica screeched and I held my ear in exaggeration.

"Woah lotta lungs on you, prep." I said grouchily while resting my head on my elbow before going back to picking my food while flipping my knife open and closed under the table.

Chuck do I wish the Winchesters were here! I closed my eyes before remembering what Dean told me. "Treat the situation like your on a case, you can't outwardly be stressed, you need to be calm and collected. Look at it from all angles until it works. Play along and blend in."

I grit my teeth but I did what he said. Running my hand down my face I exaggerated my breath, my lip wobbled and eyes watered into a pitiful expression.

"I'm sorry, yeah I'm the—the new kid. I'm sorry it's." I crossed my arms tightly and looked away while my eyes watered more. "My uh parents recently died and I've been having a hard time not lashing out at people." I wiped my eyes and looked toward Angelica and Eric who would be easy to sway. "It's been hard I mean it was only last week and then I got dropped off half way cross country where I don't know anybody. It just sucks." I whimpered pulling on my young appearance so that I looked more innocent.

Angela's eyes widened before she quickly sat beside me and pulled me into a hug. "Oh my god that's horrible, are you okay?"

At the same time Angela asked if I was okay, Jessica also asked what happened.

Bulshitting the first lie I could think up I ducked my head like I was scared. "It was a hunting accident, we were hiking and some hunters had too many beers they started shooting as us. My dad covered me and mom but she was already dead." I whispered in a wobbly voice. Angela hugged me tighter and began consoling me.

I inwardly smiled and mocked Dean because again my youthful appearance and brilliant acting have saved my life. Whatcha got on that old man!

I would like to say I survived the first two weeks. I smiled so much my face hurt when all I wanted to do was snarl at people. I was integrated into Jessica's friend group and met other people. Classes were spent reciting rock songs that Dean would play in the impala while I tried not to bang my head on the table. The hardest part was I would read something I didn't understand and turn to ask Sam and he not be there.

And I know it sounds strange to miss the Winchesters so much but they're family. Since Dean got out of hell I had seen them off and on for cases until eventually we just combined forces. For the last four years it had been me and the Winchesters, saving people, hunting things, the family business.

I missed cas just as much. We would watch movies and shows and gang up on Dean singing pop songs in the car. Sometimes when I was really aggravated I would mentally replay Cas and me singing lollipop while we chased Dean until he bought us ice cream. It's my goal to make the Angel try every flavor.

I clenched my hand around my phone; it had rarely left my hand other than to charge. They should've called back by now, they should've found me or something. I may be a hunter and I've been on my own for some time before permanently joining them, but there was no way in hell or purgatory I would be crossing the country without some kind of idea where they are. I tapped my foot in aggravation while watching the clock. It's moving to slow I thought before leaving the classroom and ignoring the teacher yelling.

I slammed into the bathroom and quickly began dialing Dean first.

"The number your calling is unavailable or turned off." The robotic voice said and I growled.

Okay try Sam—"the number you are calling is unavailable or turned off."

I even tried Bobby and got the same message. I had called every number, every day for the last two weeks, always expecting a different result. I turned to the wall behind me and punched it in anger. My knuckles popped but did not split open despite the force. I'd expect they being turning purple by the time I get back to class.

Before I could punch the wall more or call another number, the bell rang and signaled lunch. I turned and threw one last punch at the wall before walking to the lunchroom. Mask back on place to be the person my "friends" expect.

"Howdy doody." I say as I sit beside Angela and across from Bella, the chiefs daughter.

"Hey Marcella!" Eric cheered and hugged my side before sitting next to me. "How was math?"

"Bite me, Yorkie." I hiss but play off my tone with a smile. He smiles back and bumps my shoulder.

Mid way through lunch someone finally notices my purple knuckles, unfortunately it's bella who is the most awkward person I've had the displeasure of meeting.

"What's wrong with your hand?" She asks, reaching out to touch the blooming colors.

"Got in a row with a vending machine." I joke but everyone is now looking at my hand and it makes my hand clench. "Really it's nothing, done worse." I shrug my shoulders and put my hand in my pocket.

After school when everyone is moving to leave the building I exit with Angela. Screeching tires fill the air and I turn to see a truck sliding on the ice about to hit Bella before a fast moving blur stops it with his bare hands and saves her.

"Motherfucker." I curse in disbelief. The scene rings so clearly in my head that it continues to replay on repeat while I slip away from the crowds and toward the back of the building mumbling about fucking fangers and twilight zone.

I stand against the back of the building and call the Winchesters numbers again with repeatedly no luck. "Trapped in this dead ass town with a nest of Vamps! And no fucking backup!!" I curse loudly while slamming my boot into the brick wall until it begins breaking from repeated abuse. "Son of a Bitch!" I shout into the empty air. I lay my forehead against the brick wall and control my breathing, switching to what Dean has often called my hunter mode.

Sam has told me once it's an unconscious decision. A survival instinct I built from being alone so often before I met them. Just one of those things I didn't kick when I went domestic, as domestic as a hunter gets. Eg having a home base and a bed every couple nights, having a makeshift family.

The next day, everyone gossips about the chiefs daughter almost being killed in the parking lot. Bella is fine of course. Coming back to school like nothing happened and the Cullen mysteriously leave because it's sunny. There's gossip about that too and for once I'm paying attention to gather every clue possible.

"So, what, you got like a crush on one of them." Jessica teases.

My lip lifts into a smirk. "I'm not into-" necrophilia- "brown eyes." I respond while taking a bite of my burger. Chuck, even dean wouldn't eat this shit they call burgers. I jokingly think but continue to eat it as it's the only meal I get free. "They're all yours Jess. Ogle them all you like I don't want none of it." I say out loud. "I'm done eating see you guys later."

For the next week I write every little detail I can remember from Dean telling me about the movies. He says he only watched them because this chick wanted to. Like I believed that.

So far I had accumulated a basic premise, the chiefs daughter falls madly in love with Edward. I'm pretty sure Rosalie and the tall big one are dating. Theres something going on at the Reservation. There might be vampire royalty. Is that like the alpha vampire? There was a war with other Vamps. There was a red head bitch, why is it always redheads?

When the Cullens do come back I pay close attention to them. I'm not the only one either, Bella carefully watches every day for a sign of Edward but he did not return with his family. He only shows up again a week later, making effort to befriend Bella.

In the middle of history I begin writing a list of things to do. I feel eyes on me as they watch my every move and act normally. I write my list using code words I had come up with.

Period supplies:

Tampons (machete)

Juice (dead man's blood)

Fruit loops (rope)

Meet the fawkers (find the Cullen coven leader)

I look up from my list and meet honey golden eyes, I find myself loosing thought as I'm drawn in. What clears my mind is when I watch them shift and darken and I examine the person as a whole. Jasper Whitlock-Hale, the Cullen in pain as the gossip goes. I grit my teeth and my eyes sharpen as we continue to stare at each other, he becomes the first to look away.

I Look down at my list and decide there is no time like the present and leave the class, regardless of the teacher protesting. I stalk the itinerary office and when the lady leaves I sneak in and skim the Cullen files.

Father: Carlisle Cullen

Occupation: Doctor at ####

His wife's name being Esme Cullen and she holds no current job beside interior decorating. Moved to forks Washington from Alaska.

I write the phone numbers on the back of my hand and slip out the office unnoticed before driving to a pawnshop on the reservation. Buying two machete and rope, I'd rather not break into a morgue.

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augenblicklich-lila · 2 months

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No offense but the internet gives you the most wrong and fucked up idea of helping people because people get mad if you don't care about disasters happening in 72 countries, meanwhile the people in real life that are doing the most good picked one VERY SPECIFIC thing to care about and care about it REALLY HARD

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augenblicklich-lila · 3 months

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a comic about fix-it fanfics

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augenblicklich-lila · 4 months

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🚨OFFICAL STEVEN APARTMENT LAYOUT🚨

206 page pdf with set photos, concept art and episode stills from moon knight, absolutely gorgeous stuff!!!!! The cairo set is CRAZY

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augenblicklich-lila · 9 months

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Hopes and dreams

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augenblicklich-lila · 9 months

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also 1) johnathan why are you always standing in bodies of water what are you looking for in there and 2) my DUDE simon has taken you to a FLOWERY MEADOW for a PICNIC DATE sit NEXT TO HIM and KISS HIM don't STAND IN THE POND??!?

what's even IN the pond mate you left your dignity by the stable and god knows you ain't pure of heart?? what are you LOOKIng for?? fish???? a handsome prince??? A frog??? all the birds are singing in acapella chorus to Kiss The BOY

I'm dead, it's so over... these BARS, my love

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augenblicklich-lila · 9 months

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Bleach art evolution

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augenblicklich-lila · 10 months

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go back to sleep baby its okay with könig 😩

400 Follower Celebration

—“Go back to sleep, baby, it’s okay.”— With König

[WARNINGS: None; fluff.]

It was often you spent nights alone in your house; although two live here, only one often occupies the space. You work a regular job while your boyfriend works in the military—König isn’t home too often, so you’re used to sleeping on the giant mattress alone. You would have gotten an animal by now, but certain animals make König anxious due to their usage out on the field. He tries his best to leave his job at the door so he can come back home to you be the one you need, but it can be hard.

A good way he settles down is relaxing, whilst either being held or holding you. König uses you to ground himself to a different reality he must live in to survive in the field. Your house isn’t too big, but when König’s gone? It’s massive to you. Spending your nights alone unless maybe you call a friend over, but that’s rare. You see your home as your space, as his space.

You’re sleeping peacefully on your bed, using König’s pillow with your arms wrapped around it. A thick blanket lays over you that’s also König’s, and of course, to add it on top; you’re wearing his clothes. What can you say? You miss him. You’re awoken by a heavy dip in the bed and large arms being wrapped around you, and you automatically wake up and assume it’s König, greeting the once quiet air with a soft “hmm?”

You hear a quiet and raspy voice shush you, “Go back to sleep, baby, it’s okay.” He sounds absolutely exhausted, his heavy arm limp around you. You hum again and slowly flip over to the other side, digging your head into his warm chest, your arms wrapping around him too. You don’t say anything as you let him melt against you, and you slowly drift back to sleep, faster than you usually do because you sleep well when he’s near.

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augenblicklich-lila · 10 months

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hello

I saw ur prompts post and wanted u to write the second one with 141 +konig while they're on a mission or accidentally hurting the reader during training (not any super serious injuries tho) would appreciate it 💖💖.

400 Follower Celebration

—“C’mere, let me see.”— With 141 + König

Summary: These are different situations where you get mildly to moderately injured and 141 + want to see.

[WARNINGS: descriptions of killing, mild gore, mild/moderate physical injury, fluff.]

-> John Price

“You need to work on your technique.” He huffs out, standing victorious on the training map. Price’s hands remain on his hips as you’re still crouched over on the mat, one hand holding you up while the other is covering your mouth and noise.

You don’t respond to him, instead you peel your hand from your face, glancing at it and then you cover whatever you’re covering right back up. You moved so fast Price didn’t catch onto what was in your hand, so his eyebrows furrow. His hands drop from his hips, approaching you. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” You say with a strained voice, muffled by your hand cupping your face. Price raises an eyebrow, not believing you. He crouches down, using one knee to balance himself. Price puts a hand on your back and the other grabs your wrist gently. “C’mere, let me see.”

You allow him to pull your hand away from your face and Price sputters when he sees the amount of blood in your hand. “Jesus bloody Christ!” He curses, letting go of your hand and grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes are watering from the pain and there’s blood dripping from your nose, smeared across your lips. John then stands up, murmuring, “Let me get you a towel and then get you to medical, yeah?”

-> Kyle Garrick

“Fuck!” You shout, your voice cracking. You grimace as pain blooms across your right arm, but you ignore and opt to shove the blade of your knife into this man’s throat. He begins to choke, wide eyed, his hands grabbing at yours. You yank the blade out of his neck and blood splatters over your face and clothing, and the man drops to the ground whilst holding his throat, red hot blood pouring through his fingers.

You pant and stare down at the man, adrenaline rushing through your veins. You barely acknowledge the deep gash in your arm besides a heartbeat residing in it’s place. Heavy footsteps come down the hall and into the corridor, Kyle shouting your name. “Hey, hey! Are you alright?” His voice is dripping worry, glancing at the man and then at you, his eyes widening when he sees all of the blood.

“Yeah, it’s.. it’s not mine.” You breathe out, ripping your eyes off of the bloody corpse in front of you. Your left hand skims over your right arm and—yep, there it is; you hiss in pain and cover the wound with your fingers. Your hand is trembling from the adrenaline, which combined with the noise, catches his attention.

“Are you hurt?” Kyle asks, his voice firm as he grabs your arm, his other hand grabbing your wrist. “C’mere, let me see.” Kyle moves your hand and grimaces for you, a small hiss coming from him. “Yep, definitely injured.” His thumb gently swipes at some of the blood coating your skin. “Let’s get you somewhere safe and get you some stitches.”

-> John MacTavish

You grunt as Soap’s arms are wrapped around your head with his legs locked around your waist and own legs, his forearm pressing against the front part of your throat. Your heart is pounding in your ears and you vaguely hear Soap teasingly shout, “Do you need to tap out?” You don’t respond as you struggle, trying your best to rip the man’s arms off of your head and throat. Your fingers grab at his flexing forearm, using all of your upper strength in an attempt to pry him off of yourself. “No shame in tappin’ out, bonnie..” His voice is low and cocky, tightening his hold around your help.

Being the stubborn person you are, you refuse. You attempt to gasp and you can feel your lungs heaving for air, your chest spasming. You close your eyes harshly as you don’t want to stare at the black dots swimming in your vision. In a last attempt to get him off, you buck your head forward—but your plan fails and you end up busting your lip open.

“Steamin’ Jesus-“ Soap’s tone is shocked as he immediately loosens his grip, giving you a second to gasp for air. You take this opportunity and use all of your weight, pushing Soap off of yourself. You ignore your bleeding lip and grab his arms, twisting them behind his back and you sit right on his legs, earning a grunt from him. “Hey- fuck, are ya bleedin’??” Soap grunts out, twisting his head to look at your face. His own lip curls up in concern, his eyes narrowing at you. You release your grip on him and crawl off of him, your fingers brushing against your lip. You wince, muttering, “Yeah.”

“C’mere, let me see.” Soap sits up and crawls over to you, cupping your cheek in one hand, the other balancing himself. “Ah, just busted it a bit. Guess that’s a lesson ta’not do that then, hm?”

-> Ghost

You’re cooking some breakfast for Ghost while he’s on vactional-leave, humming in the kitchen. One hand is grabbing the handle of the pan, the other holding tongs over the pan, flipping the crackling bacon. You get so caught up in your time playing softly from your phone a few feet away that you forget to be careful and the bacon pops at you, hot grade covering a small patch of your arm. You can’t help the loud yell that leaves your mouth followed by a loud “Fuck!”

You hear his heavy footsteps coming down the hallway in a quick fashion, grumbling out loudly, “What happened?” Despite his grumbles, you know he’s concerned, especially when you’re holding your arm, you blink and he’s across the room—you blink again and he’s next to you. “Bacon got me,” You whimper out quietly, the humming of the pain and heat radiating through your skin.

“C’mere, let me see.” Ghost’s voice is low and rumbles through the air, crackling like fire with how rough it is. His large gloved hand takes your arm into it and allows you to uncover the grease burn yourself. Ghost gently pulls towards himself, grabbing under your arms and lifting you onto the counter. He reaches over and turns the stove top off, moving the pan to a cool burner. “Hey- what about the food?” You say softly, watching as he goes through a small drawer and grabs a small hand towel. “That can wait. We have to treat this before it gets worse.”

-> König

You’re running an endurance and strength training course when you get hurt. You do fine on the pull ups, the rope swing, but when you reach the tire hops? Your ankle ends up catching on the edge of the tire, a yelp leaving you as your ankle twists in an awkward way, sending waves of pain radiating up your leg. Your arms end up catching your body before you fully face plant and you pause for a moment, your whole body tensing up as swift swears leave your lips.

You hear your name being called and heavy footsteps against gravel before a pair of large hands gently grab you. “I-I saw you fall, are you alright?” His voice is light with worry, and he moves downwards to softly dislocate your foot from the tire. You groan as soon as he touches your leg and you shake your head. “Fuck, that hurts—it’s my, my ankle..”

“C’mere, let me see.” He’s gentle when he gets your leg out of the fire and he quickly unties your boot. König helps you flip over to lay on your back with your leg in his lap. He slips off the boot with a hiss coming from you, making him quietly apologize as he removes your sock. Your ankle is swollen, but definitely not broken, nor dislocated. “It is a good idea to see the medics. I’ll carry you.”

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augenblicklich-lila · 10 months

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Frickin’ Watermelon

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Summary: The 141 finds out about your skincare routine, and you wonder if one of your teammates might benefit from having one also.

A/N: This is my debut piece for the CoD fandom. I fell fast and hard for MW, and I thought this piece up while scrubbing my face one night, trying to keep the acne at bay. I hope you enjoy!

As a sniper, you have to keep your face out of sight. You prefer face paint, camouflaging yourself to blend in. You’d gotten quite good as quickly painting yourself and heading out for whatever mission was next.

Unfortunately, on this mission, they decide rather last minute to use your sniping skills, simply shrugging when you asked for face paint. They hand you a balaclava, which would do the job fine.

You slip it on, slightly peeved that you couldn’t use your paint. There is a reason you wear paint. The longer you wear that face covering, the more you feel like you were going to choke on your own breath. It is hot and humid, and the balaclava gathers sweat and oil and dirt and hot breath, keeping them all close to your face.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you force yourself to take a few deep breaths, lifting the mask a bit to let some fresh air in from time to time.

You spend several miserable days out on that mission. The final morning when you pull on the balaclava, it rubs painfully against some recently developed acne.

Mercifully, the mission ends successfully, and you return to base. After a quick shower to degrime from your time in the field, all you want to do was fall into bed, but that acne is just getting worse.

Half asleep, you reach for your bottle of face wash. It was watermelon-scented pink gel that works wonders for you. You scrub your face with it, put on some moisturizer, and stumble your way to bed.

—————————————————————————

“What do you even need face wash for? Isn’t water good enough for the princess?”

You might have hit Soap for his teasing if you hadn’t detected a hint of genuine curiosity in the question.

“There’s no way water is going to cut through all the grime on your ugly mug,” you tease back. “For a guy called Soap, you should use some a little more often.”

“Ouch,” Soap says with a grin.

After a long day of training, you, Soap, Ghost, and a few other members of the 141 have gathered to just relax. You don’t know how the conversation turned to your skincare routine, but here you are. These boys are oddly fascinated with the care you give to your personal hygiene.

“I’m honestly surprised you guys don’t get acne more often. That one mission a few weeks back, I had to wear a mask the whole time I was in the field, and I broke out so bad,” you said. “It was awful!”

You caught Ghost’s eyes after that remark. *He* wore a mask all the time. But it was different for him. The mask was part of him at this point. It was freeing, somehow, in a way you couldn’t quite grasp; for you, it was smothering.

If you got that bad of acne from a couple days with your face covered, you had to wonder: did Ghost ever break out?

“You know, if you ever want to try it, I can give you a full rundown of the routine. Face wash, moisturizer, the whole works,” you said, directing your comment to Soap. Then, meeting Ghost’s eyes, you added, “You can’t miss the face wash. Bottle of pink gel in with my stuff.”

Soap snorts, and Ghost doesn’t say a word. You didn’t want to straight-out say that he could use your wash if he wanted to. After all, “skin care” didn’t have the manliest connotations. His eyes reveal nothing of his thoughts on the matter.

“Pink? I suppose it smells all fancy, too?” Soap laughs.

“Well, of course! Nothing too girly, though. Just some light, fresh watermelon scent,” you reply.

“Ah yes, watermelon! The manliest of all scents,” Soap says.

This time, you do hit him.

—————————————————————————

After a few days away on a mission, you are glad to be back on base. It hadn’t been a bad time out in the field, but it had been boring. You guess that’s better than things going horribly wrong, but you’d like at least a little fun while you’re out.

After a hot shower, you move to the sink to wash your face. You reach for your bottle of pink face wash. As you lift it, you realize it feels slightly lighter than it had before you left. You level the bottle, looking at how much is left. It’s not much emptier, but it’s definitely less than you thought you’d had before this mission.

But maybe you just were misremembering. After all, the bottle was exactly where you’d left it. You liked to display it in the corner with the cute watermelon decal facing outward, and that’s precisely how it had been.

With a shake of your head, you dismissed the thought and washed your face.

—————————————————————————

Your strides were quick as you made your way toward Price’s office. He’d asked to see you, and while it wasn’t urgent, you liked to make a good impression by being as punctual as possible.

In your haste, you nearly bump into Ghost, who’s turning the corner.

“Oh! Sorry!” you exclaim as you check up, barely keeping from smacking into him.

He nods at you as he continues on. As he passed, you swear you catch the scent of watermelon. You whip around, watching him walk away, but saying nothing before continuing to Price’s office.

—————————————————————————

You clutch the brown paper bag in your hand as you make your way to your lieutenant’s room. After slowly watching your face wash deplete seemingly on its own for several more days and catching a few more whiffs of watermelon whenever you were near Simon Riley, you were fairly confident you knew where it was going.

You didn’t want the man to have to keep using your face wash forever, though, so you’d gotten him a bottle of his own. Unfortunately, the stuff only came in the cute bottle with the watermelon decal, so you also bought a plain opaque bottle to put the pink gel in. You couldn’t resist adding a label with a skull and crossbones on it that read “Poison” just for fun.

The rest of the contents of the bag were some more intense acne treatments for breakouts and stubborn spots along with wipes for the black paint he used around his eyes and moisturizer. You’d also written a note with detailed instructions on how and when and what order in which to use the products.

You were just going to set the bag outside his door and maybe knock and run. The moment you bent to set it down, however, the door swung open to reveal Ghost.

His eyes met yours, then traveled down to the bag in your hand.

“What’s that?” he asked.

You blushed. Why did he have to catch you?

“It’s… um… for you,” you finally blurt and shove the bag at him.

Ghost gives you a suspicious look. He takes it and opens it before you can run. His eyes quickly scan the contents, and he pulls out the “Poison” bottle of face wash. He meets your eyes again. His eyes are nearly unreadable, but you catch a hint of curiosity there.

“Face wash,” you explain. “I thought maybe you’d like your own. And I put in some extra stuff, too. And instructions. If you want. Or if you… don’t.”

*Why* had you thought this was a good idea?

Ghost stares at you for a few more seconds, making you wish the floor would open up and swallow you. Finally, he breaks the silence.

“It was the frickin’ watermelon, wasn’t it?”

You blink. “What?”

“That day we met in the hall. You smelled it, didn’t you?”

“I… I thought I did,” you admit.

“You did a whole three-sixty after I passed,” he accuses. “Shoulda stopped using it then.”

“No!” you quickly say. “No, I’d hoped you’d use it. If you needed to. Or wanted to, even. I didn’t know if you’d really take me up on it.”

Neither of you speak for a moment. He stands there, face wash and bag still in hand.

“I can show you how to use the rest of the stuff if you want,” you suddenly offer.

Ghost gives you a sharp look.

“I mean, I’d do it on my face and explain it. You wouldn’t have to take off your mask or anything. I just thought…” you trail off.

You’ve stared down armed enemies before and not been this nervous. Now you are practically oozing awkwardness. The confident soldier was reduced to a bundle of nerves over a discussion about skin care.

“You wrote instructions, yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He hesitates a moment, shifting the bottle in his hand.

“Better run through it once so I can keep it all straight.”

You give him a bright smile, immediately turning on your heel and making your way to your sink where you keep all of your products. You look around carefully before entering with Ghost, making sure no prying eyes spotted you. Locking the door behind you, you arranged all of your bottles and containers, beginning the lesson.

Ghost listened intently as you explained what each product did and how to best use them, giving a nod here and here. You demonstrated and gave tips, like dabbing the face with the washcloth and towel instead of scrubbing it to avoid further irritation. You went through each step, making sure to take your time.

“And then you take about this much moisturizer,” you say, dabbing a bit on your finger and spreading it. “And you spread it evenly. If you have dry patches, you can give those a little more. But after that, you’re done!”

You turn and give him a smile.

“Thanks,” he says after a moment. “Thanks for… this.” He holds up the bag. “And for this.” He gestures vaguely, probably meaning your little lesson.

“Of course,” you say. “Can’t have my favorite L.t. going without proper skincare, can we?”

You both stand there a moment more. The silence is not uncomfortable. There’s something there, something unsaid, but you don’t mind. This is enough.

It takes you a moment to realize, but his eyes are smiling back at you.

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augenblicklich-lila · 1 year

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Call of Duty Modern Warfare II (2022) + game aesthetics

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augenblicklich-lila · 1 year

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Simon "Ghost" Riley at the Beginning of Your Relationship

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, shy kisses, cuddling, size difference, protectiveness, buying clothes, hand holding

A/N: Simon is a big buff gift to me and will never stop loving him.

Might have been the one to initiate the relationship but man is he shy when it comes to showing how much he loves you

In awe of how small your hand is in his, hell how small you are compared to him, the fact that you can sit on his stomach and he can easily flip you over and attack you with kisses whenever he wants just sends his mind spinning

This is due to his training of course and he's very happy its coming in handy for something other then military work

If he accidentally brushes his elbow against your breasts or his hand against your butt he puts his hand in front of him almost in apology

Wants nothing more then kiss the air out of your lungs, the desire is almost eating him alive

But really hesitant because he doesn't want to seem pushy, he is really big and really muscular so he could easily manhandle you into any position you want, yet he refuses to unless you specifically ask for it

Surprisingly soft to cuddle with, he has muscles yes but they're not hard as rocks unless he flexes, which he gets embaressed about doing unconsciously when you run his lips down his neck and chest

The first time you took your clothes off in front of him he got so flustered and threw his hoodie at you in a panic

Has big guard dog energy around everyone else but with you he becomes all cuddly

Always does the heavy lifting, yes because he can but also because he loves to show off

Likes the idea of matching shirts, no matter the color or design he will wear it if you will

Loves kissing your stomach, even holds you down when you laugh and try to squirm away, he can't help but smile at your playful shoves and eyerolls at how he's a big softie

Both big spoon and little spoon, he doesn't really care he just likes being close to you

Doesn't know if he should use cute nicknames at first, but if you start using them then he will try to find one that works for you too

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augenblicklich-lila · 1 year

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GENERAL RELATIONSHIP HCS !

characters: 141 + graves

phillip graves:

☆ southern boy lvl rizz, only he has absolutely zero rizz. the first time he met you he almost exploded because he's not used to talking to non-military people, what else is he supposed to talk abt other than unit stuff??

☆ probably gets his ideas from random movies he saw when he was younger (the black and white cowboy ones, but make it less misogynistic). classic flowers at your doorstep with the awkward :] kinda smile.

☆ can cook but never gets the chance to do it because he's always at the base, so the first thing he does when he spends the night he cooks a full course meal (he fucks up the dessert but it's ok 🤞)

☆ random gifts and acts of service is this man's lovee language, and it goes both ways. he melts at being given little things and is always ready to help around the house without being asked.

simon "ghost" riley:

☆ NOT A HARDASS!!! leave my bbg alone .. he's a very sweet guy. he's not very used to not being alone, so he relies on banter and easy conversation to fully enjoy and get used to a person's presence. not very fond of labels, but he finds comfort in the agreement of being each others.

☆ he's always willing to put himself on the line for you, even when his own comfort is at stake. so he tends to be a bit self-destructive if he accidentally goes too fast, he relies on a balance of being able to count on you for a steady rhythm

☆ follows you (and soap) around like a lost dog a lot, he just enjoys being able to be around people he trusts. especially when he's able to joke abt stuff that's happening in the moment, lots of food puns when cooking.

☆ stomach sleeper 100%. lets you lay on top of him so he can be weighed down and surrounded by his comfort items. can't sleep without at least 5 weighted blankets + you so warm nights are very common, but he runs cold so it's not a problem.

john "soap" mactavish:

☆ very work-focused guy, so he likes to plan his schedule around missions and you. always double-checking and asking what works best for you. if schedules don't line up, the next outing tends to always have a surprise.

☆ (canonically) scared of dogs, so whenever he passes by pet shops with you he always gets happy to see all the other animals but avoids the parts of the shop with the dogs. tries to talk you into getting obscure animals often, ends up with a cat that he tries naming sgt whiskers. it's named kevin instead bc animals w human names >>

☆ he chews on a lot of things when he's working with bombs, so his habits transfer onto you. he's always absent-mindedly chewing on something when having quiet moments with you, even trying to chew on you if you let him

☆ unironically very proud of being scottish (he's so real), so he likes bringing things from his home into yours. very big on the idea of blending and sharing stuff, so he likes getting things that are common in your country and vice versa :)

kyle "gaz" garrick:

☆ not shy, but a very hesitant and nervous guy. he takes a bit to build up enough of a relationship with you to where he asks you out because he's nervous to let people into his life that could potentially get hurt/end up with his dogtags.

☆ he's on the snarky side with his humor, always tending to take little jabs at the people around him to make you laugh. he loves making you laugh, probably has the candid videos of you laughing so he can play them while he's away on missions

☆ shower routine that he cannot seem to break when he's home, he always ends up bringing military issues soaps and towels from base because he swears it's the best (it's not). please give that boy some dove 🙏 he secretly (not really, he's very open abt it) loves the strawberry-scented dove soaps.

☆ collects different buttons from outfits he wears when they eventually pop off, so he starts collecting yours too. jeans that don't fit? he already has the buttons in a box with your name on it. old shirt of his that you wore? in the box.

☆ old man rizz 😿 religiously meets up with friends to play poker. he ends up teaching you how to play and lets you win because he thinks it's endearing. cannot play chess though, so he never plays bc he wants to impress you

john price:

☆ talks highly of his unit to you, and always tells his unit that his spouse wouldn't approve of what they're doing when they go against orders. the 141 walks on eggshells around you until price laughs and fesses up about lying

☆ beard routine, type of guy that has special oils and conditioners specifically for his beard. it becomes a nightly routine when he's off the field to let you do it for him after he showers. splurges and gets you hair/beard care stuff too.

☆ takes you fishing when he goes on leave. if you're not into fishing he just lets you sit in the boat and relax while he does all the work, but he enjoys it when you take an interest in his hobbies. gets you your own fishing rod and has you look up new bait ideas (he can't figure out phones).

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