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fawnpires · 1 year

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EVERY MAN GETS HIS WISH. — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ synopsis: under the enemy's eye, you're required to accompany the task force's lieutenant but an unfortunate situation of enemy attack occurs; falling victim to both things, your superior and some hidden feelings.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: sex pollen, non-consensual drug use, one-bed-trope, inappropriate relationship with a superior, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, age gap, manhandling, pet-names, size difference, dirty talk, grinding, mild degradation, praise kink, porn with plot, loss of virginity, innocence kink.

He wasn't a saint, nor was he heroic man to be looked up to; which was baffling considering his status of customary deeds. Brave, noble, bold — all of those things checked off to be deemed as heroic, as simple as that.

Rather than a man of military, he was more of a vigilante — acting on his own accord, directing himself and the men he worked along with the mind of personal dominance. He knew he didn't fit the stereotype of a soldier; obscene mindset, crude jokes cracked, stiff posture that made him stand stall and all intimidating, and a exterior skull of a clothed balaclava. As daunting as the man was, he was just like peers — quite ill-mannered off the field, absorbed too much in himself.

But he had learnt to contain a majority of that. Solitude was more ideal than ill-mannered, and he preferred that. Often covered up with tracks of blood and brutality, his humanlike isolation made up the whole of him; swallowed him up whole. He didn't know why he enlisted for the military, or why he hadn't quit so many years into the position. Perhaps for the adrenaline rush, or to endure the experiences of war, but the utmost possibility was to make something out of the miserable man he was — sculpt a more successful alternative.

In some way, that had worked out, made him whatever a hero was supposed to be. If that had made him a hero, then be it, if it didn't, then who was he to care? It's not like he cared for his general image, what others thought of who he was; only a man of great cruelty, inhumane and cold-blooded.

A lot of that shifted with you. One of the few women recruited, reserved and utterly meek when interacting one-on-one. You're instantly caught in the range of his observations, curiosity and skepticism as the two perplexing sensations that send him over the edge. Though he's afraid, and not in a tensed sense, it's more based on his feelings; those feelings that he thought would be triggered off in him, until he has you in his sights. That's why he scarcely ever partnered up with you on missions, putting some separation there to rid of those perplex feelings compressed to himself.

Unbeknownst to both you and him, that changes by a great deal. With Price's organization of the next mission, only in need of two personnel, it's down to the coincidence of him being paired up alongside you. The one thing that he was oh-so-successfully doing so well for the couple months you've resided in the task force, but shattered to bits when approaching this unfortunate expedition — it's pressuring, wearing his nerves out — tense. (As if you weren't as equally on edge about being collaborating with your intimidating, enormous superior.)

You're close to him, practically almost rubbing arms together. The overhead sky is dull of sun and some additional clouds, reflecting off the shade of his masked face and the tactical gear he displays. Forwards on, there's nothing but fields of fading grass and a waning path. The intercoms attached to both your uniforms are radio silence; no commands, no Price on the other end except from a few minutes ago when given the straight order to push on until Ghost gives direct instruction there.

Every so often you feel his eyes on you, causing you to adjust your head in his direction only to see him facing the path in front of him; yet sometimes you catch him side-eyeing you through the holes of his mask. Anxiousness boils in the pit of your stomach with each passing second — with his close physical contact, aware of him catching tiny glimpses of you — it causes you to distance yourself from him without your own awareness.

"Careful, kid," he said, his rasped voice the only sound you've heard in the rounds of minutes, "Stay close, don't want you wandering off now."

You blink a few times in a daze at the name, sliding yourself right back next to him, uneasiness tainting the void that was slotted right between you and him. Your hold on your firearm loosens, clutching it closer to your chest, the fingers of your left hand tightening around frontier piece. The sole use of his pet name intact for you leaving you flustered and weak in the limbs.

A sigh blows past your lips. "How much further?" you ask, "Been minutes, hours."

"Almost there, right through this path." he replies swiftly, crouching before gesturing to the right, "Cut here."

He takes lead, in front, and you linger close behind. The trail is cut off, there's more open field and sky where the sky darkens; shadows drawn on the ground, sun merely in sights and lowering beyond the horizon line. Arising in the distance, a structure stands its ground; a warehouse, seemingly deserted, dim light fixtures hung side-by-side with a half opened roll-up sheet door.

In a crouched position, he kneels in the fields of dried grass, signaling for you to do the same — which you oblige with. The slinging strap of your gun digs through your tactical wear, felt into your skin, marking the flesh with the outline of it. Around the airspace is tight and claustrophobic, your chest heavy with the beat of your palpitating, head weighed with a throb and some exhilaration.

"Visual on the hideout," he presses his intercom open to Price, gloved thumb to the button and his head tilted.

Price is heard clicking his own intercom through. "All yours, Ghost, your command from there."

Ghost pauses in his movements for a second then aligns his head back in position on his neck, closing off his intercom as it goes back to the original state of radio silence. He revolves his entire body in your direction, even crouched he's still so much towering and intimidating, eyes a shade of sepia surrounded with black war-paint dying right into your bare ones. "Stay close by me, then separate once inside, then you stay on watch while I locate, understood?"

It's a different request, more distant than what you were usually accustomed to, but in this position; there was really no arguing back on this, or better yet declining.

"Affirmative." you reply, getting off the ground and maintaining a standing position, still bent on your knees to avoid possible detection. He does the same, taking lead again and scurrying out of the grass into the open expanse of the warehouse's front, taking careful measures as he leans to grab a hold of the half-opened roll-up door's handle and widening the entrance so that's their enough space to set foot in. You're sweating, pumped of adrenaline as the whole situation sends yourself into a condition of delirium and kicked of a strange thrill — rifle no longer clutched to your chest, but in a prepared-aiming stance.

A scent, between a bitterness and saccharine, stings your nose. The inside of the building reeks of it, your face hit with a handful of it, causing you to pull up the cloth of your uniform and hold it over your nose.

(Luckily for him, he sported that damned mask of a skull all the time. The one time that you've fully understood to why he would need it, even coming across a situation like this.)

Fluorescent lights in tubes buzz overhead, flickering in flashes across each of your faces, background of quietude besides the shuffles of Ghost moving in his gear and the humming of the lights. He raises his arm to gesture the previous order given, you stay put up against a wall while he proceeds further and observes the stairs, the upper level with a room; unsuspected of the flat, low contour of a light that casts through the glass panes of the space. You watch across your shoulder, moving up to the bottom of the case of stairs, detecting each of his calculated steps, prepared to act on direction.

He reaches the top platform and eyes the door — though, before he has the chance to elbow the door wide open, his suspicions of there being lifeforms present are confirmed — the solid matter of the door bursts open without warning and a clink of an object hits the ground where he stood.

Adapting the consciousness to back away from it was far too late to act on now, a blow of the now-identified smoke grenade pollutes the atmosphere around, white and clouds around more than you had expected it to. Despite having your uniform stuffed to your nose, the scent is brought back to you — that bitter, sweet-smelling one — and it throws you into an abrupt coughing fit. Some of it breaches to your eyes, leaving a whole of you to be incompetent to retaliate against the enemy; hell, you couldn't even fend it off.

There's a grit of your teeth while slump back against the stairs. You lay against your rifle that had been abandoned from the clutch of your hands, your chest abnormally heavier; as if you were lungs were filled with a burdensome matter. Through the veil of your fogged vision and the diminishing sheet of smoke, the lieutenant held more strength than you, holding himself up against the wall of the room and held the handle of his knife up into one of the perpetrators.

His strength in the moment was impressive, nearing admirable, but it wasn't enough to overturn the situation with more than one perpetrator present. About two circle him while another three take notice of your debilitated figure haunted with the beginning side effects seeping into the fissures of your body, your head.

The last few recollections were of slow footsteps approaching your comatose-like body, your breaths heavier and more echoed against the shells of your ear. That sensation in your chest sourced from the smoke was growing into more crucial, dangerous areas; the smoke's aroma intense and all that you could really smell. They're crouched and talk over your body through muffled hoods, gas-masks.

It's difficult to make out what they're saying, (In this state everything was difficult, from vision to solely breathing.) A palm rests at your forehead, frigid to the touch before it burns down to a more scorching feeling once left more on contact to your skin.

You use your last bit of brawn to grasp at an attempt to get away downwards but there's an additional grab to your legs from below. A grunt flows from your throat in a strained manner, the ramifications of the unknown dust outdoing your own control.

A palm to your forehead, acidity stench, and the rear of a shotgun to strike you to a vacant space of unconscious void.

Against your skin, there's heavy breathing, and motions of flexing arms under your lifted thighs. You find your hands balled in fists at the fabric of his tactical jacket, his jacket, Ghost. To your surprise, he had proved your accusations of his strength giving out back at the warehouse wrong — overthrowing the opponents and beating them to pulps like his usual violent self, his bloodthirsty persona which slaughters the targets he chooses. Undeniably, he was rabid. No morals, no mercy for his rivals like the truculent brute he was.

His hand supports your back, the other to your legs which had explained the flexes that continue under you. He stumbles over to a tree which provides a temporary shelter as he slants at the bark.

He isn't vulnerable, he almost never was. It was either a violent, bellicose identity or one of great endurance. Ghost was an inexplicable man. On the battlefield, he's nothing more than a weapon — a masculine personification of warfare that taunts and douses his victim in a bloodbath of gore. (Who knew if he had developed some sick satisfaction from it, years of countless executions bound to his hands.)

But now he an absolute contrasting mortal to that, possessing you in his big arms right to his chest. You almost feel safe, sort-of sheltered more than you've ever felt in your entire presence of being restricted to the Earth's grounds. You take notice of how he checks over his shoulder then sloping his head down to your laid physique. His hand moves to cradle the back of your head, lifting you slightly.

"Come on, c'mon," he whispers and buries his fingers deeper in your hair, "Stay with me, kid."

In response, your half-lidded eyes widen up a little more, hands ghosting over his forearm and leaving your fingers to brush over the sleeve. You think you hear a sound of relief, but it was complicated to say with his smothering mask dying down a mass of his words.

The collected scenery around had been ingested fully with the effects of dusk, nearing complicated to make out where you the both of you resided for the time being. All you could comprehend was that he accomplished to elude from the main origin of the danger, and had hid out nearby in this perspective of trees.

"How'd... how'd you get get away?" you ask, sitting up with his supportive hand still at your back.

"That's what years of military training does to you," he replied, panting, "Reinforced stamina, mask helped drag out some of the grenade too."

You blink slowly, bringing your middle and index finger to your face which gathers some of that bitter residue. "What is this shit, anyways?"

"Not sure, has to be some conjured batch of contraband. Never been out to be transported, personal use — that's what I say."

"Some strong stuff." you mutter.

His strength which is used to hold you up heightens when he stands from his crouched position, a grunt choked in his throat. You link your arms around his neck for more support, doe-like eyes staring right into the pit of skull and cloth.

He doesn't mind, you think.

"Saw a safe-house up there, we'll spend the night there." he states.

"What about the rest of the operation?"

"I'll get in touch with Price," he said, "Possible case scenario is the whole thing being postponed."

You can only bring yourself to nod your head; at the same time, those secondary effects of the substance flowing back into yourself, stronger. Ghost starts back up forward to where the safe-house was situated, and his motions produce perceptions of vertigo. A whimper is hushed from behind your closed lips, head pressed to his shoulder and submerging into his jacket. His own scent gives distraction from the sustained bitterness and swirling sweetness that made your head pulsate in equivalent palpitations to your rapid heartbeat.

Your limbs are brought to weakness, frail and shaky against the perimeters of your pants. Sweat sticks to you — your forehead, your skin, your clothes. The strap of your bra feels more mauled into your flesh, branding into your sultry skin. There's an unanticipated rush of heat that throbs out from between your thighs, another whimper muted from your secured lips. Right in the moment, like a natural instinct, you could't help but trail your eyes over to Ghost.

How his biceps flexed and bent underneath you, his distinctive scent stalling at your nose of gunpowder and pine. It was intoxicating, holding you in a trance complete of him; all your focus on your lieutenant. You were known to hold an admiration for him ever since recruitment, his particular set of skills and proficient demeanor that was worthy of your commendation. But now it had shrunk into nothing but merely a hidden, perverted desire that had been brought out in the faults of the anesthetizing matter. Pressing your head deeper into the cloth of his jacket, you force your legs to squeeze together — an aim to rid of the shameful sensations that were coming down at you at the same.

As you doubted it was never going to transpire, Ghost had successfully brought the two of you into the safe-house. No longer in use, abandoned and dead, the short-term sanctuary reserved for you and him only. One story, decently-sized, and ideal for hiding out from potential nearby threats.

You're supported up in his arms for an interval while he inspects the building until reaching the upstairs, in the single bedroom which had been the only one throughout the investigation. He leans downwards to allow you to stable yourself on two unsteady legs from his hold. You stagger over to the solitary mattress and sit on the edge of it, two hands resting on the edge, fingers compressing into the foam. By now, the effects the substance took on your body had evolved into a level of unbearable.

Sweat drapes over your body in a fitted sheet, that vertigo subsiding into a lower degree but adjoining to the intense pulsing of your cunt that you've managed to handle for a while now. You slap a palm to your forehead, down your face, examining the extreme sweat that stains the skin there. Ghost sits at the foot of the bed, close to you, and begins to strip of his vest and his jacket.

"Get some rest, you'll need it in the morning." he advises towards you, proceeding to strip of the rest of his heavy gear.

"Was there not another bedroom?" you ask.

"Just this one," he said, "Why? You ashamed of sleeping with a superior or somethin'?"

Sleeping. To your current perverted head, you take it a more immoral way, heat rushing to your face at the thought.

"No, no, I just... thought you needed more privacy. Wanted to have some alone time, you know?"

He glances to you. "If you're uncomfortable, I can just sleep on the floor, kid — nothin' personal."

"It's fine, Ghost, seriously." you said.

His stare drifts on you for a little while longer before shifting away, bending his upper half into the pocket of his tactical jacket for a lighter version of his balaclava; one that wasn't supported with the hard shell of a skull at the front, but printed with a the design of the skull instead. His eyes were more visible this way, tar-like paint on pale skin around the browned irises. You shyly strip of your own vest and jacket, leaving you in a black tank top and tactical pants. The only light that had really illuminated the room was the tranquilizing beam of the moonlight through the pane of the window, white and glowy.

You slump fully onto the bed and sink into the soften material of a pillow. Your resting position distributes some heaven from the tormenting sensitivity that throbs like hell through your pants. The space on the mattress from behind you droops with his weight, a breathy sigh leaving his lips as he settles close to you; the closest you've ever been with him, almost intimate.

After a slight period of time, he's knocked out in a slumber — but you're left awake, a hand now between your legs as the pulsing is at its height; panties drenched and your heartbeat thumping out of the cage of your chest. You gaze over your shoulder at him where he lays closer facing you, his eyes visibly slit shut with the gleam of the moonlight. He adjusts himself and moves in closer to you in his sleep, towering figure nearly pressed up at you. The adjustment leaves you flustered, shock.

Without hesitations, you remove your hand that nestled from the space of your thighs and slipped through the waistband of your pants; stripping of your pants, gliding into your panties and fingertips feeling the soaked fabric of it before trailing further, rubbing slightly against your cunt. Your back arches and you muffle a whine into your pillow, heartbeat sounding at your ears in impossible volumes. Shame was no longer present, libido taking authority over your body and leading you to do such perverted things while thinking of your superior — who was sleeping away right next to you.

In this sort of mindset you can barely grab control of yourself anymore and find yourself stumbling backwards into Ghost, your free hand over your mouth as you feel the area of his crotch press up against the curve of your ass. One of your eyes twitch, hand in your panties rubbing at your puffy lips while your hips begin circular motions at his clothed crotch. The hand at your mouth fails to stay together, fingers parting from each other and granting the noises from your mouth to spill out. His arm then wraps at your waist, unconscious or not, seemingly pulling you closer to him; a bulge in his pants felt at your panties.

"Lieutenant..." you whisper breathily, looking back at him only to see his eyes were no longer shut — but half-lidded and open.

His arm at your waist travels to your hips, trapping you in the enclosure of his hands while he pushes you down further onto his bulge; an audible whine leaving your mouth with additional pants.

"Look at you," he groans with a rasp in his tone, "Gettin' off on her superior like the needy whore she is."

"M' sorry, Ghost, fuck, needed you so bad..." you whine out as his hips grind against your ass harsher, almost in similarity to thrusting, yourself drunk on him and his cock.

"Yeah, love?" he questions, "Say it, how long have you've been like this for me? How many times have you touched that pretty little cunt of yours to the thought of me every night?"

Your eyes are shot vast, saliva pooled in your closed mouth and your panties moist — slick painting the inner sections of your thighs. Words struggle shape into coherent sentences through your mindless babbles and the disturbance of his erection prodding right at your clothed cunt, but you manage. "Ever since I joined the task force," you say through a half-whine, "Since I've first seen you."

A couple of months was your first appearance on working for the task force. Decently skilled and a couple of rank higher than your first impression of a rookie, barely given any training. That's how long you've yearned for him — how many times you've laid sole right at midnight, in your room of the barracks, a hand down your panties while breaths of weight exhale with personal noises of lust. You project his hand instead of yours in the fabric, veins and a bigger expanse of flesh that stretches your tight cunt out with lengthy fingers.

Now those momentary projections had manifested itself into the real life, the reality where your older superior had himself pressed up against you; hungering after you as much as you did for him.

He has his face in the crook of your neck. "Fucked my fist thinkin' of you," you said, "You and your heavenly body distractin' me on missions... drives me insane."

"Ghost, please." you whimpered.

"Tell me what you need, sweet thing, c'mon." he cooes against your neck, the arms around your waist locking you right to the area of his crotch when all you could do is whine and push yourself down for more of the relief. Your body burns and fits of sweat, the temples of your forehead pounding.

"Need you to fuck me," you pant, "Need you inside so bad."

Ghost places a masked kiss at your jaw at the confession and in an instant movement; you're underneath him, a caging shadow scarcely visible by the traces of moonlight through the glass panes. The loss of friction he once gave from behind you was no longer there, leaving you to press your thighs together once again in hopes to rekindle some of the loss. His palms are flat at each side of your head, the bulging muscles of his black shirt outlining through the material — and the thing you've longed for the most, the bulge that lines and becomes trapped in his fabric confines.

He uses his right arm and his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties, ragging the drenched item down past your knees and left to be discarded on the mattress. His eyes preserve in a mature desire; bleary and focused on the exposed region of wet flesh. You bite the skin of your bottom lip, sheepish to never having another person being so up-close to an area that was so confidential to you throughout a large portion of your life. Two of his fingers slide up your puffy lips, soaked of your collected arousal while he elicits a low gasp from you.

"Fuck, angel, never seen someone so wet all for me." he said.

You had wondered if you should tell him now — after you were the first one to make such a bold move on him, you had to confess the private matter of never having intercourse; the only closest sexual encounter you've had was with yourself. (Those nights in the barracks with your single hand.)

"Ghost, wait—" you stutter out, a palm spread-out at his chest in a way to interrupt him of his doings.

"Somethin' wrong?"

You breathe, your throat gone dry. "I- I haven't done this before." you admit.

"You're a virgin, honey, is that it?" he asked with his accent swarmed of concern, "Never had a man touch you like this?"

"No," you said, "I want you to be my first time..." the admission was brief to a point, sure, but it was what you were so desperate in need of. You reserved this occasion just for him, and it had finally gave life to itself.

"Oh, sweet girl," he caresses your face with both hands, large palms squishing your cheeks and rubbing soothing motions into the skin, "Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes, please," you whisper, "God, I've waited and waited, only for you to be the first. Nobody else."

With that, his hands drag themselves down your face, your chest and stomach, and aligning at your thighs. He leans himself down onto the mattress, pinning his body onto the cushioned material. Your legs rest at each of his shoulders and his fingers create a restraint; powerless to thrashing or releasing from his hold. His thumb and index finger momentarily fix up the bottom of his balaclava to the brink of his nose, moving back to the flesh of your thigh. You squirm a little from the long, dragged-out desperation that spread through your body like a disease — a plague of lust solely meant for your lieutenant.

At long last his head descends to that throbbing territory right between your parted thighs, all bathed in your bloomed arousal and swollen clit. You feel his tongue kiss over your skin before running one long stripe up your cunt, lips fully puckering over you. To this new, overwhelming ease —out of the extended period of time with the substance's aches— you throw your head back to the headboard, a breathy gasp leaving you throat each time his tongue comes to work on your cunt. His nose adds to the ecstasy that he sends you right into, nuzzling and prodding right at your clit when his mouth works along your slit.

You stifle a moan, but ultimately fails when his tongue fucks itself right into your cunt, nearly felt at your walls. Whines echo off the boundaries of the room, the double simulation causing your eyes to flutter and your walls to clench around his tongue. Your thighs squeeze at his head while trembling, leaving your fingers to claw at the sheets, each and every assembly of your exclusive noises the nearest experience he would ever capture to hearing heaven — an angel, his very own angel.

"Fuckin' heaven right between your thighs, princess," he praised, running his tongue at the spots he was quick to learn that were sensitive to you, "Needy thing, you are."

"Y- Yes, yes... fuck." you whine.

"M' going to ruin you, bunny," he said amid his pleasuring, "Be the first man to ruin you, and this sweet pussy of yours."

Your thighs tremble, thrown-back head releasing noises of pants and disgraceful moans. His tongue works more diligently now, in the habit of working at your cunt. The ministrations are more faster and insistent. "Oh, Ghost..." you whimpered, bucking your hips onto his face and essentially riding his entire facial structure. He lifts his irises to your fucked-out face, staring in admiration, a raw visual of beauty — open-mouth, tilted head, sheet of sweat over skin, and all because of his own doing.

Rather than alternating between lapping at the exterior of your cunt and pushing his tongue right into you, he makes his mind up of only plunging his tongue in-and-out of you. The more rabid motions of his tongue driving up into you is a whole new degree of euphoria, a knot in your abdomen tying itself at the muscle fucking at your delicate walls. But it's not soon when that knot is unbinding itself, your body writhing under him as your hips roll and ripples of pleasure drive out from the undoing knot.

When Ghost arises from his spot between your now-fully soaked thighs, his mouth and nose are saturated with the liquids of your orgasm; the first orgasm you've had provoked by another person. You spasm, at some state of relief — but not enough to fully satisfy the explicit emotions that fomented right to him. Heavy breaths leave your mouth and his, trembling fingers of yours coming to pull off your tank-top and bra; fully nude and stripped beneath him now. You take notice of his eyes widening for a brief second behind the warpaint — astonished, or whatever he had going on at that unpredictable mind of his.

"Such a doll, baby." he said, inclining down to press a kiss to your lips, straightening his stance above you — towering you. He strips of his own shirt, a broad chest of muscles and pale skin, then lingering a hand down to his tactical pants where he shrugs the cloth down to his ankles; thoroughly peeling away from any fabric, except for his boxers with that prominent bulge at the forefront.

You patiently look up at him through your lashes while he slowly tugs at the waistband of the remaining article of clothing, a sensation at your gut anxious for the release of it. He wastes no time pulling the boxers down, cock smacking at his lower abs. Undeniably, he was as large as you've fantasized him to be — but with more length added, more veins that adorned him and a blunt head that oozed of pre-cum. Your breath hitched at the sight, a slow blink of your eyes while he clamped a fist over himself.

He pumped himself a few times in the fist, never once leaving the perspective of your near-goddess body all spread out for him. The stare in his eyes were darker, more obscured with shadows and a deep, perverted passion that you once obtained; only for it to die down at his domination on you, reduced to your usual timidity. Observing his cock in his fist, you bite your lip, that throbbing sense at your cunt returning in a more intense wave.

In a more bent position over your anatomy, you feel the head of his cock prod right at your entrance and you gasped when it starts in circular movements — gathering some of the remnants of your arousal on the head.

His fingers grasp at your jaw, gently forcing you to make direct eye contact. "Hey, hey, look at me," he whispers, "Relax, honey, it's going to hurt a little since it's your first time, yeah?"

You give him a nod, lip bitten at your teeth.

"If it hurts, we stop, no big deal — got it?"

You give him another nod of reassurance. It was a huge thing to give up, to put trust into the hands of another man — but it was him, your lieutenant, the man you've admired and personally worshipped like your own god. You trusted him with your life, that's how far it was taken, and now you could trust him with taking your virginity; ruining yourself for him.

With the given permission, he slowly fills you up, the head of his cock slipped into your cunt. He groans at the tight sensation, a whimper of your end at his lengthy size inside of you. You already feel so filled, and it was only the blunt head that had been in you. Ghost immerses in how you feel clenched around him, tight and leaving him almost unable to fully thrust himself in; the intimate way your legs bracket at his waist, how your arms wrap his torso like a bandage and your fingers jab at his back muscles.

"Ghost—" you whine out, feeling yourself clench around the head of his cock that left you almost brain-dead — unable to speak, or form a coherent thought at that, "Oh, fuck..."

His large hands keep you confined at your waist, lips pressing at your face while one hand frees itself and cradles you in it. "Still doing okay, sweetheart?" he asks with a genuine concern, and you nod, allowing him to thrust the remaining inches of his cock right into your cunt. Your back arches off the mattress at the sudden movement and the short sting that accompanies it. "Doing so good, love."

He starts out in slow, steady thrusts and you whine with the flow of his hips against yours. Gradually, he speeds up once coming to the realization that you were already adapted to how he moved up inside of you. Your fingers at his back begin to dig deeper, breaking the skin and leaving red marks in the wake. His stamina is a whole stage of extremity than your own, which is why he's able to pound into your cunt without pause.

"You love this don't you, sweet girl?" he pants, "You love having your sweet little pussy filled up by your superior's big cock, huh?"

You rapidly nod with pants between your lips, saliva down the corners of your widened mouth, "Love it s'much, Ghost, oh—"

"My real name, say it, honey."

You whimper, the bottoms of your eyes twitching. "Love how you fuck me, Simon — be rough with me, please, I don't care anymore."

At the your request, his particular set of thrusts afterwards of his are hard and nearing animalistic, right up at your cervix — nearly at your womb. He reduced you to nothing but a writhing, moaning mess where you laid under him; legs fixated at his waist and your arms at his torso forcing him down closer to you.

"Always wanted to fuck you like this, y'know?" he rasps between grunts, "Every-time one of those lowlife rookies eyed you, wanted to bend you over and show them who you belong to," he said, "Fuck in front of everyone like a bunch of animals.

An audible, echoing whine slips from your mouth at his own perverted confession. Who knew he shared the same fucked-up fantasies as you did? (Truly a match made in heaven.)

In the way he fucked into your cunt at a rapid pace, it could be considered animalistic — just like his fantasy. His veined hands caress your waist while every thrust of his hardened cock brushing past your walls and pounding into your cervix extracts an angelic sound from your mouth.

"More, please, please—" you whine out, head thrown back and nails into his skin, "I'll be your girl, 'mmm my god — your only girl, I promise..."

He grunts. "That's right, bunny. I'm the only man who can fuck you like this," he said, "I'll make you remember this night, the first man to ever ruin you like this."

Ghost throws his head back, his posture aligning itself out while his jaw clenches. Sounds of skin-on-skin and a chorus of high-pitched whines along with raspy, masculine grunts leave the safe-house no longer deserted; conducted of sexual nature in its walls. You squeal as he never fails to reach your cervix while he continues to pound into you, addicted to the way your cunt clenches on him like a vice and how your body reacts to his cock impaling it like a natural instinct — clamping on, soaked of arousal just at the mere thought of it settled in you.

The space between your two thighs are messier than the first time, when you found yourself being carried like a bride in his arms, when you ground yourself right to the bulge of his pants. It's sloppy, with a combination of your arousal and his pre-cum painting your inner-thighs like a piece of artwork; the whole scene a scenario of a sexual, brutal renaissance painting.

"M' so close, Simon!" you squeal, "Need you to cum inside, mmph — please..."

"You want that, sweet girl?" he asks, "Want me to cum all inside of your pretty pussy?"

"Yes!"

He chuckles. "You lil' fuckin' whore, all needy like this for her first time."

And with that, Ghost smacks his lips to yours. His tongue laps at each crevice of your mind, a hand coming to grab at your jaw and keep you in position. The results from him eating you out still linger on his tongue, causing you to moan right into his mouth and allow him to eat you all up. Your insides feel raw at this point in the way his cock leaves squishes noises each time he meets with your puffy, sticky folds — cervix bruised and kissed with his overwhelming contact.

"C'mon, princess, show your lieutenant who you belong to," he breathes between kisses, "That's it, I know you can, bunny."

Ghost feels the abrupt stop of your clawing at his back when your cunt spasms around his cock, clenching as tightly when a burst of liquid seeps out and decorates the head of his cock, drooling down the veiny sides. The pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen clit during your orgasm, a loud whine earned at the contact. His cock twitches inside of you at your noise, and at the discernment of your pretty cunt squeezing down on him; in some way telling him to stay, never let you go, claim and haunt you down to never leave your side, never.

With your orgasm already wrapped and concluded, he undergoes one of his own; not long after yours. A gush of fluid plants at your walls and floods past your cervix, felt at the inners of your womb. Sensitivity still contemporary, you find yourself mewling at the impact when it spills to the parts deepest inside of you — coddled in the warmth of his seed, filled to the brim. He's quite the artist himself, painting your insides one of the prettiest tints of white. You capture him in a hug, pressing your face into the open slant of his neck while he sinks in the position for a little while longer. He returns the embrace and massages at your breasts before wrapping you in a full hug, collapsing to your body.

He rearranges the stances of your bodies while in the embrace — him on the bottom, while you lay on his larger structure. Your head rests on his naked chest, tiny pants from your mouth while he is successful in catching after his own breaths; his hand in your hair, petting in comforting strokes while he presses repeated kisses to your scalp.

"How was that for you first time, love?" he asks once in breath again.

"Brutal," you said, "I liked it, though."

"Think that grenade powder had quite the effect on us," he said, "fuckin’ hell."

You nosed at his jaw, kissing at him, inhaling his scent of sweat and gunpowder — addictive. "Never knew my superior could be such a pervert just cause of a little powder."

"Not only the powder, doll," he said, "It's you."

#. ˚ ʚ — ꒰ simon riley. ꒱#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x f!reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #oneshot #female reader #.୨୧ fawnpires

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shipmanisms · 3 months

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⋆ 𓏲 THE YELLOWJACKETS BEING JEALOUS .ᐟ

cw. swearing and some suggestive themes but not really anything too specific!!

a/n. HFHFHFHFHFFH GODDD 1 month anniversary of shipmanisms and ALREADY 176 followers 🥹 im so grateful for every single one of you, i love you all sm and thank you for supporting me sm 💓

⋆ natalie scatorccio

natalie would be so grumpy if she saw you talking with another girl or even breathing the same air as her,, she'd immediately pout and scoff and throw a snarky remark to make you pay attention to her :(

“awh, such a romantic moment” said natalie while rolling her eyes as she saw you and lottie, your best friend, talking in a hushed tone, probably 'flirting' like nat thought, when in reality you were asking lottie for advice on how to ask nat out for doomcoming . . . “you know what would be a romantic moment? this, do you wanna be my partner for the doomcoming?please?baby?” you asked out of the blue with an awkward smile, but hey! it was lottie's ideas, she was the one who told you to be yourself.

⋆ lottie matthews

she wouldn't even be mad or jealous, just confused if she saw one of the other yjs getting close to you. she'd look at you like a dumb puppy with those big ole brown eyes of hers and go like "hey, can we:(( talk:((( pls:(("

“baby, hey, what's up with you and shauna? you're spending so much time with her instead of me” lottie's sweet voice rang through your ears, and you giggled a bit at seeing her so desperate to talk to you more. hugging her and resting your head on her shoulder, you looked up at her with a smile. “jackie is shocked that she's not the one who got shauna pregnant, and she's not talking to her, so shauna asked for my help" you intertwined your fingers with lottie's, seeing her finally relax and a look of realisation cross her face.

⋆ jackie taylor

sassy loser girlfailure princess who's jealous and needs attention 24/7 or else she'll die ( she's just like me ) , of course she'll never let you go without reassurance and an explanation + an apology paragraph.

“when did you stop wanting me to be your girlfriend? how is travis more important than me now?” jackie asked frustrated as she stomped her feet a bit with her hands on her lips, looking at you impatiently. “baby.. he ate his brother's heart..” — “okay an- oh. yeah, i remember now, okay! i love you then, tell me if you need help with comforting him” she smiled and pecked your lips.

⋆ shauna shipman

jealous shauna is your worst enemy, she wouldn't even talk, she'd just bottle up all of her jealousy until she finally snaps.

seeing you hugging with van was what made shauna lose her temper, she tried to keep her calm, seeing you and van everywhere with each other, talking, laughing, saying inside jokes that no one understood but you two— and now hugging? storming off and grabbing you by the hand, leading you out of the cabin, you knew you were fucked. “can you tell me what the fuck is going on with van?” shauna said in an angry tone, her brown eyes intensely staring at you. "we're stranded in the wilderness..i can't be only talking to you?i have to... communicate with other people too in order to survive? besides what's up with you and taissa? running off in the woods like you're romeo and juliet or whatever bullshit you're doing there!" and it just turns into a whole argument that none of you ever apologize for, but it'll probs end up with you dead or you two cuddling together.

⋆ van palmer

jealous van is a CONFUSED van, they probably wouldn't even notice it until one night where you're all talking with each other but you don't sit next to them like you always do cause you're sitting next to natalie.

biting their lip, they anxiously took some small steps towards you. “hi baby, can we talk?" and the moment you nod and get up, they drag you in the woods and yap your ear off about the whole situation, only for you to explain that you're still very very very in love with them and that you're just getting the gossip from natalie about her and travis. "oh, okay!" and then they just smooch you all over :(

⋆ taissa turner

just like shauna, this girl is ready to fight at any moment given when she realises somebody's taking HER partner way.

“yeah, it'll be fine, you just need to focus on to who you should pass the ball to at the right moment” you adviced allie before hugging her and giving her shoulder a small pat, not knowing taissa was looking. “you'll do great, now come on, we need to go” you said before running out in the field, allie following closely and— not even an hour later, allie was on the ground, screeching in pain as her leg painfully snapped because of taissa tripping her purposefully, making you gag and cover your eyes at the sight of the blood.

as soon as practice finished, everyone gathered to talk about the incident, and of course you immediately took taissa's side even if she was in the wrong. “listen! im sure she didn't mean to, right baby?” you asked tai, but she stayed silent. “yeah see! she confirmed it!” you defended her again, even if she wasn't even trying to defend her own self. later on, as everyone left, pissed and angry at taissa and at you for picking her side, it was just you and her now.

“why'd you do it?” you asked your girlfriend, playing with the straps of her bag. “she was too close to you and i wasn't going to let her steal you from me— you're mine, and she should know that” she spat out, rolling her eyes before looking at you. “maybe you don't know it either, hm? think i may need to prove it to you” she smirked, dragging you towards the showers in no time.

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chrollo-lucilfers-chains · 11 months

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Homelander x gn!reader

A really bad day.

Warnings: crying, Homelander (he's not the one crying tho)

He'd just been sitting on the couch reviewing some documents for Vought, when his ears had picked up on your presence entering the building. His focus immediately shifts completely to you, about fifteen floors down, as you enter the elevator to his suite.

Reason for his piqued attention are the tiny sniffles his super hearing has picked up. They mean that you either have a cold or that you are crying.

Either of those would be an immediate call for high alert for Homelander. Humans are so very fragile...

You can't be sick, he reasons. You hadn't been sick in the morning, when you'd left for work.

So you're crying.

And yes, the sound is muffled, like you're trying to hold it together and not quite getting the hang of it, but it's still notably the sound of tears.

Homelander's eyebrows furrow. Somehow, that's worse than you being sick.

From his current position, he listens intently to the sound of the elevator moving upwards until there's a telltale ring and you shuffle inside his apartment complex.

He hears you take off your shoes while he's drifting towards the hallway.

You see the movement in the corner of your eye and look up at him, eyes meeting his. When you realize that he's really here, your eyes begin to water again.

Immediately he is by your side, holding your shoulders and checking your body for any injuries.

He finds nothing physically wrong with you but before he can ask, you fling yourself into his arms and start sobbing uncontrollably.

Your hands find his back and then he feels the muscles of your arms squeeze him with all your non-powered-regular-human-strength might.

He freezes. This is new.

Homelander listens intently to any new sounds but thankfully the crying seems to be the only noise of distress you let out. Or at least he can't make out any whimpers of pain or something of the sort.

Slowly, afraid to startle you, he relaxes his body. Strong ams wind around your form and pull you closer.

He's honestly scared he might spook you with moving too much, as if he were handling a small animal.

Homelander doesn't like dealing with crying from others, unless it's tears of happiness. People he saves often cry out of relief or from the shock but most of the time he leaves those to the paramedics or other heroes around as soon as possible.

You're his partner. He can't do that here.

This is the first time he's seen you cry, now that he thinks about it. It would make sense for you to cry sometimes, as it is in the normal range of human emotions but the two of you have only been dating for about two months now and known each other for four. So this display of emotions from you is entirely new to him.

'Come on, Homelander', he thinks, 'get your act together'.

He's not going to hand his crying partner to somebody else just because he doesn't know how to deal with human emotions very well...

So he tries to remember his training. What did they tell him to do in these situations?

Oh dear, your hands must hurt with all this clenching going on at his back. He just knows your muscles must be tired at this point.

Not for the first time, he curses his upbringing. Dealing with emotions had come rather short in his education. The focus had always been on how to destroy, never how to comfort.

But that one time they'd given him a lesson on how to deal with people in distress for of his public image.

However, that doesn't really apply here, he reasons. It might even be impersonal. You're not some random fan he can pat on the back and leave!

So when he picks you up, arms draped over his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, he's operating purely on instinct. He's seen a man do this in a movie once and it had worked there, so he takes the gamble.

To his relief, you tighten your grip on him and cling to his body like a little koala, tears still wetting the material of his suit.

The mental image is quite cute, he will admit. Then again, so are you.

Walking back to the couch, he settles the two of you into the soft pillows for a little comfortability. You can't just keep standing in the hallway forever.

Noticing the fuzzy blanket he'd bought for you few weeks ago because his place is always cold, he shifts you around and clumsily wraps you in the soft, red fabric, until you're sitting in a cocoon on his lap.

You've stopped crying at this point as well. There's still the occasional sob or sniffle but for the most part you're just clinging onto him and hiding your face in his neck.

He pats your head awkwardly and you let out a tiny laugh that gets muffled in his neck.

It's quite nice like this, he notices. Not the crying, of course. But have you this close, needing physical comfort which nicely feeds his own cravings for your touch.

He'd actually quite like you like this, all vulnerable, if it weren't for your upset state and the crying... He doesn't like those...

After a while, he experimentally places a soft kiss on your head and you pull away slightly to look at him.

Your eyes and cheeks are red from crying and your face is a little puffy but it's kinda cute in his eyes.

"Do you feel better?" He asks, continuing to stroke your hair.

You nod and take a deep breath.

"Better," you sniffle. "Thanks for being here. I- I needed that hug and I just really felt like seing you. Sorry, I had-... I had a really shitty day..."

His brain stops at that, having just had a revelation.

Constellations in his mind shift just the tiniest bit.

You trust him.

You came to him for comfort.

Not because there was nobody else either but because you genuinely wanted to see him and thought his being there would bring you calm! You felt like seeing him would make you feel better!

The most dangerous person in the world (not that you realize that) and you came to him for comfort.

Deep in his chest, pride and satisfaction begin to swell, along with a new kind of warmth he's never felt before. He doesn't even try to fight the broad smile that sneaks onto his face.

"It's fine! You can always come to me for comfort. I don't mind!" He reassures you, cheerfully,

"I really don't mind."

His arms tighten around you just the tiniest bit. Well, there's no way around it. Seems like he'll just have to protect you from now on.

#mine #my writing #gender neutral reader #gn reader #homelander x reader #homelander x you #the homelander #homelander #the boys tv show #the boys fanfic #the boys tv #the boys #the boys series

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dotster001 · 11 months

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Girlies End

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Choose Another Ending

Jamil's phone had been non stop ringing for the past ten minutes. Which was unfortunate, because he was trying to take notes for Kalim, who would definitely forget everything the cat was telling them.

"Our next step will be to have you slowly work your way into Y/N and my daily routine," Grim pointed a yardstick at step three on the whiteboard he was standing in front of. "Recommendations include, offering to buy my tuna, buying me regular gifts, purchasing necessities we need around Ramshackle, like a new deluxe mattress, or deluxe slippers, or carpeting so that I don't need the slippers. Really, you can just use your imagination here."

"What about a new diamond choker, that's super shiny, so Y/N always knows where you are?" Kalim asked excitedly.

"That's brilliant! It's ideas like that that prove you're the perfect match for Y/N!"

Jamil would normally have been livid. But he knew that someone like you would quickly see that Kalim wasn't as complex an individual as you needed. And he would be right there for you to fall for…

And if not…well…he'd gotten quite good at controlling his signature spell. He couldn't say he hadn't warned Grim. He was practically begging him to do it at this point!

"Will you please deal with that buzzing? Kalim and I can't think!" Grim suddenly shouted at Jamil, as his phone rang for the umpteenth time.

He scowled, before muttering a "be right back" and answering the phone in the hallway.

"What?" He snapped.

He quickly apologized upon hearing his mother's voice.

"I was just wondering if Najma was settling in all right?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Jamil asked, completely confused.

"Well, she said you had a guest room all set for her, but I just wanted to make sure she was comfy, and that you were both behaving."

"Wait, Najma is here?" Jamil had a terrible, horrible, feeling in his gut that he knew where she was.

"She said she saw you-"

"You're right mom, sorry, I've been overwhelmed lately and just got confused for a moment." It was a terrible excuse, he just had to hope his mother would accept it.

"Alright, just make sure you get some rest. Tell Najma I love her, and to be good!"

He breathed a sigh of relief as she hung up the phone. Then he made a beeline to Ramshackle.

The door was cracked when he got there, so he just walked right in. And the first thing he saw was Najma making out with you, heavily, on the couch.

He cleared his throat, and Najma looked up, startled, before bursting into laughter. Confused, you looked up and covered your face with your hands.

He watched as you looked flustered, and mumbled nonsense as though trying to explain yourself. Najma just looked smug.

"Sup buttface?" she said.

"Jamil, I can explain!" You said.

"Nah, he knows now, babe, might as well tell him," Najma said, gently caressing your cheek. She turned back to Jamil.

"Y/N and I have been dating ever since they came to visit a couple months ago. We didn't tell you cause we knew you'd flip out."

"I-gah-I'm not flipping out! But why would you do this?!?!?"

You shrunk deeper into the couch, looking at Najma like she would protect you from Jamil's yelling. Najma continued to look smug, even in the face of danger.

"You're totally flipping out. But it's cool. I know it's cause you're jealous that I landed a hottie like Y/N, and you're gonna die miserable and alone."

Jamil frustratedly ran his hands through his hair.

"Najma…Y/N…gah! Y/N, you like girls?"

"Yes," you whispered.

"Yeah, Y/N likes girls, now get out of here so I can keep making out with my partner," Najma didn't even wait for him to react, she just grabbed your face and resumed kissing you.

"Najma-"

"Y/N, tell Jamil to stop being a little freak, so I can keep kissing you," Najma said poutily against your neck.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Jamil cut you off.

"I'm leaving! Sevens, if mom asks me if I've seen you though, I'm ratting you out."

Najma flipped him off as he left.

Once he exited the building, he leaned against the outer wall and groaned. Leave it to his sister to ruin everything he'd spent months planning. He shouldn't have even been surprised.

Oh well, he'd let you tell Grimm that he wouldn't spend his life living like a millionaire at the Asim household.

The End

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst najma #najma viper #najma x reader #najma viper x reader

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deonsx · 7 months

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If They Cheat On You Revenge

Part2!

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Jouno

Content: Cheating Revenge

Not:You have a chance to choose the next story below, don't forget to vote

Dazai Osamu

After that incident, everything became worthless to you. You were afraid that the man you valued more than yourself would betray you and drive you to suicide. How could he do this to you? You were still in the same house because Dazai said that he would leave that house and at least he wouldn't be able to take the house full of memories from you. A week has passed since this incident and now Dazai was only coming home to take his clothes, he was taking his memories at home to erase them more and more day by day

One day you decided to go out. You wanted to give yourself what you needed to get yourself out of this darkness. Of course, you didn't decide to do this alone. Chuuya-san, Osamu's closest partner, heard about your incident and called you

You met and talked for a long time, Chuuya was really interested in you, he was always Dazai and your closest mutual friend, you used to meet, but now the wheels have changed and the man you thought you would marry and live with forever..he touched the skin of a another woman

"Why don't you leave that house, s/o? There's no point in being in a house full of bad memories anymore." When he told you this, you thought he was right and you decided to go home together and collect your belongings. As you were taking your steps towards the house, you saw your door open and heard a woman's voice. "My love, Should I take these too?"

You saw a woman right in front of the door, she was taking your belongings and throwing them away one by one. "How dare you put your hands in my house!" You looked at the woman who quickly dropped the frame in her hand with your shout. You looked at your ex and the woman he cheated on you with. "I-I just.." she try to talk, Chuuya stepped into the house and gave the woman a hard look, "I see you have your eye on my relationship with s/o, chuuya" Osamu was hateful but tried to stay calm, Chuuya just chuckled "Shame on you..you prefer silver to gold, Don't you even dare talk to her”

Chuuya Nakahara

After that day, everything changed. You left the house you lived in to never see his face again. You came across your old friend Osamu. "My my! This beauty? Why does Chuuya leave you alone? Is he still at work like this?" You were in the agency's cafe and suddenly your eyes filled with tears as if it hurt you. When you saw this, the brunette's face became serious. "What's going on, s/o?"

You felt a lump in your throat and you couldn't stop crying. Osamu narrowed his eyes as he gently held your chin and wiped away your tears. "I understand..so he chose another woman over you." Even though you were amazed at his intelligence, you felt very helpless and continued to cry on his chest

You spent your days talking to him and he made you feel good. One day, while you were laughing with Dazai about something, you heard the sound of the door opening behind you, but since your back was turned, you didn't feel the need to look. "So I guess I wasn't the only one who was behind someone back all this time." That familiar voice.. for months. The voice you didn't hear rang in your ear. You were afraid to turn around, but Dazai's voice protected you

"Who is this pathetic man? It's doubtful that you can even talk yet" Dazai grinned and mocked the red haired man "So you've had your eyes on my girlfriend all this time? I should have guessed" Chuuya got angry and the force of gravity covered the surroundings "You're the one who cheated and you're still so daring? Try and Beat me if you dare"

Fyodor Dostoyevski

After everything you've been through, you didn't want the fraud committed on you to go unanswered, so you did the only thing that could hurt your lover... you decided to expose his plans, you took all the documents, messages, records and foiled Fyodor's plans one by one

Fyodor trusted you very much even when he was cheating on you.. you gained his miraculous trust, you took every penny of the money in his bank and gave the crime documents and plans to the Detective agency, that is, his enemies, of course you did not leave it like that, his current biggest enemy "Dazai Osamu, you are finally here" everything in one day you did

You met him in one of the back dark alleys "These documents..why are you giving them to me? What do you want in return" You gave a deep breath and shook your head "the best thing you can give me is Fyodor's collapse Osamu" You grinned and just winked and left, Your phone start ringing after couple hours, you knew this sound, Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You answered your ex's phone with a look of happiness on your face "You..What the hell are you doing s/o?" You heard the tense voice coming from the other end of the phone, seemingly calm but eating at you inside, "What have I done, dear?" The phone hung up on you as soon as you asked this, his next move was obvious, he was coming for you

Finally a black silhouette appeared at the door and opened it quickly "Very rude Fyodor" You spoke to him mockingly "How long have you been on the different side s/o" you squinted your eyes as you looked into his purple irises he still thought he didn't know what he was doing "Ever since my beautiful lover held someone else in his arms"

Nikolai Gogol

Even if you found out that he was cheating on you, you did not want to abort your child, the fruit of your relationship and love. You were very indecisive at first, but now you had a due date and were waiting for the day to come. You did not leave the house during your pregnancy, you were all alone except for your friends who visited you

At the end of 8 months, at the insistence of your friends, they took you to a nice restaurant a few days before the birth to celebrate it in advance. "I can bet that she will look like her aunt!" Your friend said, laughing and looking at the others, Your daughter was going to be your daughter, but she would grow up without a father

"I bet he will look like me the most " You made a bet with your friends and it was a night you had a lot of fun. Your friends offered to take you home, but after a long time you wanted to walk by yourself and now you were walking alone on the street, accompanied by a white street lamp that turned on from time to time, towards your house

“S/o..?” That familiar voice that made you freeze where you were.. you wanted to turn around but at the same time you didn't want to see his face. When his hand touched your shoulder, you quickly backed away. "Don't touch me." When you turned towards him, he looked at your swollen belly. "Is this baby.. our child?" Silence surrounded you, you did not answer him, with the sudden tension, you were about to fall to the ground in pain, Nikolai quickly held you

Your birth had started, Nikolai quickly took you in his arms and brought you to the hospital, and now you had your child in the hospital, whom you had been waiting for 8 months. She looked like his father with white hair and colorful eyes. He looks like his father. There is a Nikolai looking at her longingly, but you were not going to let him touch this child. "Go away." you protected her from his as you hugged him "S/o...please let me love her" he said with his eyes narrowed and his voice trembling "Just the fact that you looked at her is a blessing I gave you, don't come near us again”

Jouno Saigiku

You couldn't believe that the love you had given for years was so simplified. He had been cheating on you for 5 months, and while looking into your eyes, "It's been 5 months, s/o." What he said pierced your heart with a sharp arrow

You quickly slapped him and let your eyes fill with tears "You fucking! How could you do this to me!?" you kept hitting him and your eyes were burning in pain, "Get out of my house right now! GET OUT!" You quickly kicked him out of the house and vowed to end him

You tried to get yourself together for 1-2 days and then you went to your rivals' agency. When you entered, everyone took cover. "I came here to do something important..detectives agency." You gave all the information you could about him. It didn't take long for them to trust you of course, it took them months. A total of 1 year later... Your big plan was ready, finally the agency decided to raid their headquarters and you were going to kill him there

Everyone dispersed as planned and in the end you trapped them all but you did something that wasn't included in the plan and locked you in the same room with him "You are finally here...finally" you spoke as you walked towards him. When he tried to use his ability you quickly drew your sword and caught him at his weakest point..you always knew him. you learned everything and now you were his rival

You put the gun to his head.. But you didn't, you couldn't pull that damn trigger. Your hand shook. In the face of the man you believed would make you happy for the rest of your life.. That person wasn't the person you wanted anymore. "I'm not someone like you, Jouno, I won't kill you like you killed me”

Enjoy!

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mossdoesartshit · 2 months

Text

extermination day extermination always irritated vaggie. She had developed a major dislike of it upon being dropped into hell for showing mercy, which shouldve kept her in heaven than get her booted out, but she had found the love of her life here, so she couldnt complain. After the battle during the old hotels time, the exterminations had become far more erratic. sometimes theyd be only a month or so away, sometimes over a year. she had no doubts it was entirely because of lute, which she wasnt too fond of, but what could vaggie realistically do, her old sister in arms had always been a bit of a nutcase. besides, she had bigger fish to worry about right now. she and charlie were doing a headcount of people who had been in the hotel that day, (alastor, husk, nifty, the usual people, along with some hopefully quests to be) and there was one person distinctly missing "do i have to go get him?" vaggie asked, exasparated "come on please? he should be somewhere on the upper floors, i saw him walking up before the bell rang loud, besides you always have your weapon on you!" charlie begged, earning agreed mumblings of the others "If Safety Is Your Concern, Trust Me Vaggie, I Will Be Able To Handle Any Possible Nuisances While You're Getting Mister Bleeding Heart Back" alastor piped up, with that sickeningly sweet grin of his. She rolled her eyes, and groaned out a soft "fiine" as she moved to go up the hotel. Thank Fucking Lucifer that he had installed an elevator into the hotel, because boy howdy if vaggie had had to walk up the flight of stairs just to get Adam she would not have even considered it. Eventually, she found him on the roof, watching the carnage. "come on Adam, i know youre probably so fucking hard about all the destruction and shit, but you wont be safe from them killing you" Adam didnt turn to look at vaggie, instead closing his wings around himself as best he could, and "I can still recognize them you know" "huh?" with one wing, adam pointed down to two exterminators "that right there is lyre, ruthless as ever, but she has that methodical work flow, kind of like a dance. i think they partnered her with a newbie, which is good- well. bad, but. good from a combat standpoint- because she'll get good pointers at the end" vaggie looked down at the next group of exterminators that adam pointed to "over there is janatha, still fumbling with her stabs and pierces as ever. shes in a bigger squad, but they always worked well together, even if theyre a bit chaotic" an explosion blew up relatively near them, and adam looked over to it with sluggish movements "must be lute... say vags-" "vaggie." "-vaggie, do you remember flute?" "huh? you mean lutes sister?" "mmhm, lutes always been pretty ruthless, but that can leave her open at the back, flute would have covered her but. i think she was killed a few exterminations ago, the one that weapons dealer got. i think theyve tried to pair her with others but i always see her alone" vaggie stood there stunned "i. didnt think you were telling the truth when you said you recognized me. i thought you'd been bluffing or that lute had told you, given..." "well, thats the view souls have of me i suppose. liar down to a t. but i do recognize all of them. i just regret that my blind rage cost the lives of several of them and... lutes arm" another explosion closer to them alerted vaggie to grab adams shoulder "come on, charlies going to get worried if you keep me standing here, cant have you getting killed now that shes done so much work on you" "whatever you say vaggie" adam said, solemnly looking behind to where theyd spotted lute, before walking with vaggie to the elevator to get to the more bunkered area

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raz-writes-the-thing · 6 months

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Snack Foods (Good Omens)

Aziraphale x Crowley x GN!Reader / requests are: open and encouraged

Summary: You're originally from the US and are feeling homesick. Your partners somehow just always know what to do to make you feel better.

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Moving to the UK had not been something you’d seen in your future when you were young. It was one of those things that just sort of happened. One week you were working minimum wage and working towards a degree, and the next week you were studying abroad. A month after that you were securing a job in your chosen field and you just… never looked back, really.

Your family was sad but supportive, thankfully. They understood how much your career meant to you and what these opportunities meant for you. They rang as often as they could and visited once or twice a year, which was great, but you still missed them, of course.

Your main source of solace when you really missed home was the Bookshop. You’d found it by accident one day after going to the coffee shop across the road. You’d met some friends there who had recommended the place. It was indeed now your favourite joint for a pick-me-up latte. There was nothing quite like a hazelnut coffee frappe, was there?

But you digress. You’d gone to the coffee place to meet your friends and spied the vintage-looking bookstore while you’d been there. After you’d finished with your friends you’d popped over to see what they had to offer.

Being so far from home had been particular torture that day and you’d been hoping to pick something up to distract you from your misery and transport you elsewhere. At least for a little while. Browsing rows of books, parchments, scrolls and everything else under the sun was where you’d first met Aziraphale.

A stout, comforting man (or you’d thought he was a man, anyway- at first) who had seemed to be trying to herd you out of the store before you bought something, which you had thought very odd for someone paying rent in the middle of London for a multiple storied building. But that was neither here nor there.

It had been an accident, really. You hadn’t meant to, but as soon as Mr. Fell had mentioned your accent and asked where you were from in an effort to divert your attention to his precious books, you had burst into tears. The poor man had looked so startled as you chastised yourself internally and wiped away the tears refusing to stop leaking from your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, absolutely horrified.

“Oh, dear,” was his response. “It’s quite alright- though, I must ask- why are you crying?”

And so your friendship had begun. With a dash of tears and a sprinkle of awkwardness. After that, you’d popped in to the Bookshop whenever you were lonely or missing home to catch up with Mr. Fell. He’d set you up with a recommendation, a comfy chair and a cup of hot chocolate and leave you for hours to engross yourself in other universes.

You’d met Crowley shortly after you started going to the store regularly. It didn’t take very long for the two of you to become thick as thieves. You had a similar sense of humour and both of you found more joy than you should have in the misfortune of others. Not anything serious, of course but neither of you were able to not giggle when you saw the ass end of someone’s shopping bag just fall right out.

Anyway, all this was to say was that the two of them had fast become your best friends, confidants and then, one day after that, your partners. And as partners, they were very finely attuned to when you were not having a great day. Today was one of those days.

Crowley had ducked out for a bit before you’d gotten to the shop, and Aziraphale was pulling out all the stops to help you feel better. A new book, hot chocolate, a funny dance, even. Nothing was working. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. The dance and the following cuddles helped, but not by a whole lot.

Your Angel was doing his absolute best for you, and you were currently curled up in his lap with his hand stroking through your hair. You were sniffling sadly. You couldn’t even call back home with the time zone differences.

“Don’t look at those, my dear. You know they will only suffice to sadden you further.”

You were flicking through old photos, and as soon as the words left his mouth you turned the phone off with one more longing look. He was right, as usual.

“There, see? Better already. Crowley will be back soon, I’m sure. Perhaps you and he can play that game that you both enjoy so much?”

“Maybe,” you replied noncommittally.

The game in question involved doing your best to come up with more and more ridiculous ways to spend eternity. It was quite an amusing game. Particularly when drunk.

As if summoned by his name, Crowley wandered his way into the shop. He was toting a plastic bag which- judging by the bright colours within- meant it contained some sort of food. The Demon picked your legs up and sat down on the arm of the recliner, re-placing your legs back on his thighs when he was settled. He gave them a soft, comforting pat.

“Right. Can’t have you being sad, can we, Pet?” He supplied as a greeting. You blinked at him, nuzzling your head further into Aziraphale’s hand in your hair.

“S’pose not,” you replied suspiciously.

“It’s, erm, not much,” Crowley said, peeking into the bag before handing it over to you, averting eye contact awkwardly. ��Might help, though.”

Your brows drew down in confusion and you moved the handle out of the way to view what was inside.

“Oh.”

Crowley repeated the statement, deflating somewhat.

“I- this is- Crowley.”

Aziraphale was beaming at you, scratching at your scalp. The motion gave you the shivers which in turn made Aziraphale chuckle.

“This is so nice? I can’t- oh my God- Cheetos!”

“Let’s not bring her into it, shall we? I don’t believe she had anything to do with it, eh?”

You shot the Demon an apologetic look and started ripping items out of the bag. Mike n Ikes, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Reese's cups, and- was that a root beer? A real, precious root beer? Was this Heaven?

This was possibly one of the kindest things someone had done for you since moving. ‘Demon,’ your ass.

“This is perfect, thank you so much,” you say tearfully while ripping open the bag of Cheetos and shoving one in your mouth. “Where did you get these from?”

Crowley squeezed your foot comfortingly. You wiggled your socked toes in his hand.

“Nipped over to the store in Edinburgh. Our Angel here heard they had specialty foods.”

You pecked Aziraphale on the cheek, giving him an absolutely beaming smile which he reciprocated happily.

“Oh, it’s no problem, really. I’m happy to do anything for either of you. More than happy.”

You picked up a Cheeto, offering it to the Angel who looked at its colour sceptically. You can tell he’s about to respectfully pass on the snack before he sees the expression on your face and he gives in, opening his mouth for you to feed it to him. He looks horrified as the taste sits on his tongue.

“Oh,” he says, chewing faster to get it out of his mouth. “That’s just… that's lovely, dearest. Thank you.” You offer him another. “No thank you, one was quite enough. More for you, after all.”

Crowley snickers and rejects the snack you offer him. He wasn’t big on food in general, but it would be rude not to at least offer. Crowley was more of a drinks man, anyway.

Once you’d had your fill you gave each of them a big kiss on the forehead, thanking them profusely for the effort. It really was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for you.

And as it turned out- it actually worked. It didn’t ease the ache of missing your family, but it did alleviate a little of that homesickness. You made Crowley promise to take you to the store sometime (and regularly after that) and while you certainly didn’t see your family often enough, you realised that you’d created a new family here instead- in addition to the one back home, that was.

As thanks, you promised to never make Aziraphale chow down on American snack food ever again. He was very much grateful. To thank Crowley, you washed the Bentley for him in skimpy clothes. It was safe to say he was a fan.

You may miss your birth home, but you had a lot going on for you here too, and wasn’t that just as important in the end? You thought so.

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jebewonmorelike · 1 year

Text

Young and Rich, Tall and Just Ask Me Out Already

wc: 2.1k pronouns: n/a; none used warnings: none really? maybe the tiniest bit of angst... fluff... and i used the word d*ck once, my bad also you can pretend they're in college or high school, doesn't really matter summary: prepschool!ricky/richboy!ricky just can't get scholarshipkid!reader to go out with him no matter how many helicopters he lands in the school courtyard ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ guys... whoah... rich-boy-with-a-soft-side ricky just kind of hits different? i must say i outdid myself with this one so please, please, please enjoy :)

Ricky has been trying to convince you to go on a date with him for two weeks now.

The first time he asked you was after Chemistry one afternoon. You had been assigned as lab partners at the beginning of the semester and shared a desk during class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 1:10 to 2:40 P.M.

At first, you'd found it kind of difficult to relate to Ricky. His dad was a CEO at some big tech company and he didn't really let anyone forget it. Always flaunting his designer watch with the newest phone model in hand, entire classes full of students couldn't help but fall for him as he draped his Louis Vuitton jacket casually over one shoulder.

But you were just "the scholarship kid". A humble upbringing and a borderline genius IQ, attending this prep academy was an opportunity you and your family could never have turned down.

Working on labs with Ricky wasn't difficult-- mainly because he let you do all the work while he listened to music and played on his phone. But if you were being honest, you didn't really mind. You enjoyed working on the labs at your own (fast) pace and you didn't have to worry about a lab partner messing up your data.

You never disliked Ricky. But you also could never really figure out what to say to him when he talked so expensive and acted so expensive...

And looked so expensive.

But after a few weeks of silent lab work together (and a handful of flunked quizzes returned to Ricky's desk), the tall blonde suddenly turned to you with his latest graded test in hand.

"What did you get?" He asked, eyes peering over to try to get a glimpse at your paper.

"Oh, um..." You placed it flat on the table.

His eyes widened in surprise. "105? Again!?"

"What do you mean 'again'? How do you know that?" You questioned, looking back at him suspiciously.

He completely ignored your question. "There wasn't even a bonus question on this one! Where did the extra points come from?"

"The mini-essay I submitted last night on chemical kinetics."

He stared at you for a moment. "You're kind of weird, you know that?"

You nodded. "I guess you would think that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned, dark eyebrows furrowing.

"Do you want me to help you or not? I would think calling me weird wouldn't really help persuade me," you quipped, snatching his test from his hand and reading the grade circled in red pen: 63.

"Hey! Don't--," he protested, trying to steal the paper back to no avail as you slid it into your bag and zipped it closed. "I didn't even ask you for help yet."

"You were obviously going to. You've barely said one word to me in four weeks, so. I'm pretty sure you weren't just making friendly conversation."

Ricky blinked back at you silently for a moment. "It's not like you've said anything to me either."

"I'll look over your test to see what you need to improve on. Do you have the rest of the quizzes from this month with you?" You asked quickly, standing up from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder as the bell rang.

"Uh, no I don't," he admitted, not making any move to get up now that class had ended.

"Okay, well--."

"But I'll bring them tonight. To the library," he interrupted.

You stood there silently, not really sure what to say.

"Be there at 9," he said definitively, a grin suddenly spreading across his face as he stood up, grabbed his bag, and started walking towards the door.

"You--... Do you think I don't have a life or something? I... What if I had plans!?"

"You did not have plans," he said with a laugh. Just before he walked out the door, he turned over his shoulder to add, "But now you do. With me."

It was like that, how you started tutoring Ricky late nights at the library. You met after 9 P.M. the days that you had class together, going over the material you'd covered that afternoon. He was a surprisingly passable student and you started to wonder if failing his classes was somehow intentional. He started offering to help you with lab work as the weeks went on, messing up detrimentally only a handful of times but you did appreciate his effort if nothing else.

Your tutoring was definitely helping; Ricky's quizzes came back now with passing grades that had even once reached the height of a 91. But what you didn't want Ricky to know was that he was helping you, too.

He had been right that day: you hadn't had any plans that night. And you rarely did. It was hard to fit in with the other students at your school when they had all led such different lives than you. You could have never guessed in a million years that Ricky would eventually become something like your friend.

Ricky made you laugh. He sharpened your pencils for you. He brought you snacks you liked. He'd let you borrow his Nintendo Switch for the day, as long as you promised to give it back to him in class. You hated to admit it, but a few weeks into your tutoring sessions and there was much less studying going on than was originally intended.

And another thing you hated (not really) to admit: you liked Ricky.

Sure, he could be a little overconfident. A little braggadocios. A little too reliant on his daddy's money.

But late at night in the library, you both grew tired together and the sleep deprivation gave way to a much more vulnerable Ricky. He'd tell you about his family, his childhood, his favorite things, his troubles, his dreams... and he'd listen carefully to you when you shared yours, too.

One time, after sharing a surprisingly upsetting childhood memory involving his father, you could see Ricky's eyes start to water. He tried to brush it off, adjusting his watch as the walls of the persona began to build back up in defense. But before you could stop yourself, your hand had reached across the table and landed on top of his.

He stared at it for awhile before looking up to meet your eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly, swallowing with uncertainty.

You removed your hand and placed it back in your lap. "Sorry," you replied awkwardly.

"No, no, you're cute," he said quickly, a hand flying to cover his mouth when he saw the expression on your face and realized what he had said. "I--I--... I meant 'cool'. Like... Like I meant to say 'you're cool', as in, like, 'don't worry about it'."

His babbling just made you smile. "Freudian slip?"

"Exactly," he agreed hastily. "Wait, no!"

"Too late, no take backs," you blurt, flipping your textbook to the next page to continue with your notes. Your heart absolutely raced inside your chest when you heard Ricky lightly breathe out a laugh before following your lead and resuming his note-taking.

Ricky certainly had a public image he wanted to portray, but whenever he gave you a glimpse underneath the facade... that was when you couldn't help but fall.

So when he asked you out for the first time, sun shining as you walked together from Chemistry to the student lounge on a Friday afternoon, your stomach absolutely flipped with excitement.

"I'm gonna take you to dinner," Ricky said, hand combing through his blonde, coiffed hair.

"Like--... Like on a date?" You clarified, looking up at him to try to read his expression. But much to your dismay, he was looking straight ahead, not at you.

"Yeah," he responded flippantly, hands finding his pockets. "There's this new place that opened downtown that's, like, mega exclusive. Figured you can't say no to that."

"No."

"Exactly... Wait, what?" Ricky stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No thanks," you repeated. Looking at him now, you could tell exactly who was standing in front of you. No matter how much you liked Ricky, you didn't want to go on a date with this persona of his.

You wanted to go on a date with Ricky.

"Oh..." He replied, shock written all over his face. He swallowed hard and you swore you could see his cheeks start to redden with embarrassment.

"I really like you, Ricky," you clarified with a smile as you watched his eyebrows shoot up at the confession. "But no thank you."

You didn't wait around to field any possible questions. Turning on your heels, you headed off in the direction of your dorm leaving Ricky absolutely dumbfounded in the campus courtyard.

The next time he asked you out, it was in the hallway before class the following Monday. He handed you a small, light blue gift box, his eyes looking everywhere except at you.

You suppressed a smile, opening the box to find a dainty, rose gold bangle with the signature Tiffany T-shaped cuff ends. After having a mini heart attack over how much the bracelet in your hands must've cost, you took a deep breath to maintain your composure.

"I can't accept this," you managed, though you had to admit you were a bit sad to refuse it (and to refuse him a second time).

Ricky stared back at you, absolutely astonished. "Why... Why not?"

"I really like you, Ricky," you confessed again. "But I'll have to say no thank you."

As your professor called for everyone to take their seats, you hurried inside the classroom and left Ricky to trail in behind you completely stunned once more.

Ricky has asked you out about eight more times since that day. Each time, the simple question is skirted around and instead replaced with more and more elaborate and expensive gestures.

Now, it's 9:30 on a Friday night and you're typing away on your laptop, working on a paper that isn't due until the end of the semester when Ricky bursts through the doors of the library and darts straight towards your usual table.

"Are you seeing someone else?" He blurts out, catching his breath as he stands in front of you waiting for an answer. His hair falls boyishly across his forehead and he's dressed in a a hoodie and black joggers. You get the impression he had rushed here suddenly without any preparation and he looks so stupid cute.

"No," you reply, chewing on your cheeks to keep from smiling.

"Are you interested in men?"

"Unfortunately."

"You keep saying you like me and then you refuse to go out with me. Do you like me?" He asks, a little too loud for a library, but you're both lucky there's no one else that would be studying on a Friday night.

"I do," you confirm, watching as his eyes grow a bit more pleading as he wrestles with his own confusion.

"Then... Please... Will you please go out with me? I like spending time with you so much. I like talking to you so much. I really, really like you, (Y/N). Will you please just give me a chance?"

"Of course," you answer immediately.

"Yeah, I get it, I get--." Ricky's eyes suddenly light up as he realizes what you said. "REALLY?"

You nod, biting your lip in a satisfied smile and throwing your laptop into your backpack. "Let's go right now!"

He blinks quickly, following you as you stand up and walk towards the door. "Right now? But you--."

"Ricky, I don't really have any time to waste. I've been waiting for you to ask me out for two weeks now! Can you blame me for being a bit eager?"

"What... what do you mean? I've asked you out, like, a dozen times," he says as you step outside into the cool evening air, grabbing your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

You smile up at him. "No, you haven't."

"Yes, I--," he starts to protest, but you cut him off.

"You've told me you're taking me to an exclusive restaurant. You've bought me designer jewelry. You've given me an autographed poster from WayV. You've hired the Vienna Philharmonic to play at the student lounge. You've landed a helicopter in the middle of the courtyard..."

You watch as realization begins to wash over his face. His mouth hangs open a bit as he processes his numerous missteps. Then, a hand finds its way to the back of his neck as he smiles at you sheepishly. "Oh."

"So I've been waiting very patiently, you see."

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he says with a smile, and then more solemnly he adds, "And I'm really sorry for being a total dick."

"Well, you're in luck. The only way to make it up to me is to get late night pancakes with me. And it just so happens, that I am incredibly hungry right now," you say, taking his hand and starting to pull him in the direction of the parking lot.

Ricky laces your fingers together as he falls in step with you. "Oh! I know the best place for pancakes, it's--."

You clear your throat and he stops his thought in its tracks.

"The diner?" He asks, looking to you for approval.

You nod, giggling back at him. "The diner."

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floralcyanide · 8 months

Note

happy to see you’re unshadowbanned!! <3

perhaps some hcs for possessive/jealous jonathan x reader?? (be as wild as you’d like with this) 💖

Jonathan Crane Headcanons

Jonathan Crane x Reader

masterlist

✺ if there's anything Jonathan hates more than cynical people, it's cynical people who try their hand at flirting with you. especially when it's pretty obvious you're with him. Jonathan is attending a fundraiser at the Wayne Mansion s he's a donor for the event, and he brought you at his plus one, of course.

✺ he usually pays no mind to people staring at you, he can't blame them- you're stunning. but when someone engages in conversation with you with certain intentions, that's when Jonathan gets pissed. so when Bruce Wayne, of all people, decides to strike up a conversation with you, Jonathan gets a little heated. he stepped away from you momentarily to chat with another doctor he knows, which he never does for this exact reason.

✺ "everything alright, darling?" Jonathan asks airily as he approaches you and Bruce, his arm snaking around your waist possessively. "of course," you smile, unaware of the steam practically coming out of Jonathan's ears. he glares at Bruce, who does nothing except kindly smile at Jonathan, "is this your partner, Dr. Crane?" "yes, it is. in fact, we've been together for quite some time now. isn't that right, sweetheart?" "that's right," you keep the smile on your face, albeit confused. jonathan grins contently, and Bruce clears his throat, "well, it was nice talking with you, y/n. Dr. Crane, it was nice seeing you again." Jonathan hums in response, and Bruce departs from the conversation. you shake your head at your boyfriend, who just blinks at you without expression.

✺ jonathan also gets possessive when you're out in public. he's always holding your hand, has his arm around you, or insinuates a fair amount of PDA to show others who you belong to.

✺ he's also a stickler for leaving marks on you- whether that's hickies or bruises on your neck from choking you. it lets others know you're taken. he hates it when you cover the marks with makeup.

✺ in bed, jonathan loves asking you who your pussy belongs to. he also will take the reins most of the time. missionary is preferred so he can have good access to your neck and shoulders to bite into. if in doggy, he'll leave a line of marks down your spine, especially during warmer months when you show your back more.

✺ he's gone as far as sending grotesque things to exes or people who try to flirt with you at work. ranging from dead animals to excrement or threatening anonymous letters. when you found out, jonathan got an earful, but it wasn't enough to stop him, it never is.

✺ he'd even go as far as killing someone to protect you and keep you. it hasn't resulted in that yet, but the threat still holds.

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itsmattchou · 8 months

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we are diamonds shining today !

pairing: kim gyuvin x gn!reader warnings: reader implied to be shorter than gyuvin (and being cute and adorable), worrying about exams, mentions of food, scary place wah, gyuvin is s t u p i d, yujin is anti love!!!, implied suggestive something idk, english isn't my first language!!! genre: fluff, crack synopsis: 5 "first times" with kim gyuvin. notes: LATE HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO GYUVIN!! pls dont flop pls dont flop

the first time he kissed top of your head. it was a rainy wednesday, barely a month into your relationship with gyuvin. like always the two of you spent the lunch break together, just the two of you at your secret spot. while gyuvin was munching on carrots bugs bunny style, you confided in him about you being scared of the exam that was going to be written in a few- the bell rang- the exam that was going to be written now. you stood up and told gyuvin to please bury you once the exam was done, but he just shook his head and moved to stand in front of you, his hands placed on your shoulders rubbing soothing circles.

"you're going to do well, don't worry about it. i believe that you can nail it." he then placed a delicate kiss to the top of your head, succeeding in cheering you up.

the first time he tried sacrificing you. gyuvin was known for being a scaredy cat and hater of everything scary. he despised horror movies with a passion, whenever he sees someone playing a video game he exits as fast as possible, and he would hate halloween too if it weren't for the sweets making up for it. but you being his cute and adorable partner, managed to drag him into a horror house at the fair. it only took you half an hour of talking into him, a teddy bear and a months supply of cotton candy! but once you entered the building, the 6 foot man named gyuvin hid behind you as if he was a little child, only occasionally peeking over your shoulder.

suddenly, skeleton shot out from behind a corner, startling you and gyuvin. but your boyfriend wasted no time in screaming, "take them! take them instead! i'm too young to die!"

the first time he canceled a date. going on dates with gyuvin was one of your favorite activities. i mean, obviously, who wouldn't enjoy spending even more time with that boy? you two always took turns planning the dates, and the date you were supposed to go on tomorrow was planned by gyuvin. but in the evening your boyfriend called you and apologized to you a billion times before he confessed that he had to cancel it. of course you weren't pleased, asking him for the reason- but what he explained to you bummed you out. gyuvin liked to gift you flowers, mostly on dates, sometimes even for no occasion at all. turns out he never got those flowers from a flower shop, but his mothers garden instead. mrs kim, busy as ever, only that day had the time to finally take care of her garden again, only to find the mess gyuvin left behind when he straight up dug the flowers out of the flowerbeds to gift them to you.

"she grounded me! can you believe this?!" gyuvin complained on the one end of the line, while you were speechless on the other end trying to figure out how to slap gyuvin per telephone.

the first time he said "i love you". you going out with gyuvins friends wasn't unusual. matter of fact, spending time with his best friends was incredibly fun. sometimes, when you were having another playful fight with gyuvin, you'd just tell him that you liked spending time with ricky, gunwook and yujin more than spending time with gyuvin, resulting in gyuvin falling to the ground and rolling around dramatically, screeching something about you killing him in a ruthless way. it was another day of spending time with your boyfriend and your boyfriends boy friends and you five went to the arcade together. after hours of competing against gyuvin in multiple games (you won of course), you two went to buy some drinks as he asked you in a joking manner if you still preferred to spend time with his friends, and you told him the truth. of course you loved spending time with him more than anything and you'd choose him over ricky, yujin or gunwook any and every day.

gyuvin softly smiled at you before he blurted out an "i love you". it would've been a really emotional and romantic moment between the two of you if it weren't for yujin who suddenly popped out behind some corner, making gagging noises.

the first time he let you do his hair. it was another rainy day, a saturday this time though, and gyuvin was going to spend the night at your place tonight- leaving the door to your room open just a crack for the sake of your mothers sanity and wellbeing. you two were watching some silly romance movie gyuvin picked for you to watch, cuddled up on your bed with gyuvins head on your chest and his arms around your waist, and your hands in his hair, playing with it. you really liked gyuvins hair- he'd sometimes even accuse you of only dating him for it- and playing with it was a habit, even a must at this point. you weren't really paying attention to the movie, rather admiring your boyfriend, as suddenly a scene in the movie piqued your interest. the girl was styling her boyfriends hair in silly ways, while the boy was mumbling about not deserving that kind of punishment- only to be upset the second she offered to leave his hair in peace. with a grin on your face you called out your boyfriends name who only sighed dramatically loud in response, already knowing what you were gonna ask for. but of course you ended up convincing gyuvin to let you do it too, he just loved you too much to say no.

"please don't make me end up bald!" gyuvin whined while you were braiding his hair. you scoffed and told him to just keep on watching the movie without paying any mind to you, promising him to not cut his hair off (even with no scissors or razors in reach).

#zb1 #zerobaseone #kim gyuvin x reader #zb1 x reader #zb1 headcanons #zb1 reactions #zb1 scenarios #boys planet #kim gyuvin #kim gyuvin fluff #zb1 imagines

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glowstick-cafe · 11 months

Text

♡Tell them♡

Pavitr Prabhakar x reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort

Warnings: Major Character death

Summary: Pavitr has been your boyfriend for a while now, way before he even picked up the task of being of being the hero of Mumbattan. Now, he struggles with keeping his identity of being spiderman a secret.

_______________________________________

Pavitr has only been spiderman for six months and he finds the smiles of civilians who he has saved to be rewarding, but recently, something has been nagging him.

It's like a dreadful pit wells up in his stomach telling him that he needs to throw up, yet nothing happens.

This feeling is only present when he sees their face, (Name), his partner. He loves everything about them and he's not scared to tell it to the entirety of Mumbattan, they make him melt in every way possible by just existing. So why is he nervous around you all of a sudden?

"I'm so sorry for being late, I had….a thing?" Pavitr's voice trailed off as he couldn't think of anything to say, you laughed at his great excuse and patted the seat next to you, telling him to sit.

"It's ok, I'm happy as long as you're here." They say, looking up at the stars. Pavitr could only watch you apologetically as that feeling of dread washes over him again. "(Name), I have something to tell you." He blurted out. You turned your head to look at him, waiting for him to speak. "I….-"

"I am…-"

"I'm…sp-"

I'm spiderman.

Pavitrs' words were beginning to fail him, his throat tightened and his mouth grew dry. "Pav, are you ok?" Your gentle but concerned voice asked, your soft hands reached up to caress his face to calm him down, which worked. He let himself be calmed down by your touch. "I can't say it." The boy muttered, clearly disgruntled.

You let out a sigh, "We have all the time in the world, you can tell me when you're ready, 'kay?" Pavitr looked up at your face that held a reassuring smile, and he couldn't help but smile back in response.

"Okay…"

As time moved on Pavitr's battles were becoming harder with each fight, and the damage became more great. More civilians were getting hurt due to his shortcomings and it was starting to get to him as more news began to demonize him.

Pavitr started to slowly push you away in the off chance that you might get hurt, your walls of text were met with an 'I'm busy' or a 'Sorry, can't talk rn' and the boy could tell that your patience was thinning with every ignored text.

He will come to regret that decision.

Pavitr was nearing his limit, his body was bruised and most likely bleeding too. "Man, I probably can't go to school tomorrow." He joked to himself, the person he was fighting had unfortunately gotten away. They had been fighting in an empty office building due to everyone already fleeing, the room was a mess and also had a gaping hole that he crashed into, can't forget that.

As the boy was about to leave, the loud sounds of bombs rang through his ears. By the time he realized it, just like his balance, the building shifted and was about to fall on the people below.

Pavitr quickly reacted and jumped from the building, swinging safely to the ground. The sound of people screaming and running away started to overwhelm his senses, in response he quickly pulled the civilians out of harm's way.

Over all the screaming, the sound of a child crying stood out. He spotted her and she looked no older than five years old, looking for her parents amidst the chaos. The building was now dangerously close to falling and she was the only one who needed saving now.

Before he could move, the sudden breeze of someone running past him made him panic. "Hey! Wait no, it's dangerous!" he yelled in a panicked state, seeing them catch up to the child. He fairly quickly caught a glimpse of their face which caused his heart to stop beating for a moment.

"(Name)..."

Once pieces of rubble began to fall to the ground, Pavitr's feet began to move on his own. He wanted to make it, he needed to. The hero's eyes were trained on you, and you only as the little girl was being carried on your back. You weren't going to make it, the fact that more rubble started to cascade down quicker with every second, and you weren't running any faster than you could.

For whatever small second was left, Pavitr could see an idea cross your mind as the both of you were running directly at one another. Before he could process it, you threw the little girl towards him and he used his web to catch her. She was now safe, but....

No no no no no no no no

Please no, not you…

The rumbling of architectural debris crashing down sent dust flying which covered the entire area, and all Pavitr could hear was a constant high pitched ringing in his ears. The boy ran toward what was once left of the building and desperately dug through the rubble in an attempt to find your body... half of it at least. You were barely conscious, but you still felt every bit of the immense pain.

"(Name)!' Pavitr blurted out while trying to pry you out from under the wreckage, only to be met with cries of pain. He quickly stopped when he realized this wasn't working, while he was frantically trying to scrounge up a solution you then grabbed your partner's hand. "I don't... I don't want to die." You said, gripping his hand harder, "I have to go home to my boyfriend." You finished, letting out a painful cough that caused blood to start dripping from the corners of your mouth.

"It'll be okay.. I think- I think he'd understand, because I'm sure he loved you very very much." Pavitr responded with a trembling voice, but with some of his words trailing off together in the process. He let your nails dig into his skin while tears started to stain your cheek.

"That's nice."

Pavitr could feel your grip on his arm weaken while you let out your last breath, finally slipping under the cover's of death...even if Pavitr didn't want to have to see you tucked in.

That was the night Pavitr's heart lost its other half.

#glow;atsv #atsv x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #reader is black #blk reader #reader is a poc

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legendofmorons · 5 months

Note

Hey sorry if this is kinda specific and weird but could you do one where the reader gets their time of the month and Twilight takes care of them. (I get it this makes you uncomfortable I got my time of the month and it has hit me like a truck and I just want some tooth rotting fluff rn no pressure tho). Sorry if this is weird. Love your stuff have a lovely day 🩷

Personal hero (Twilight)

Of course I can honey! I'm sorry that you feel gross.

This doesn't make me uncomfortable, though. I'm familiar with the problem. I hope this helps and that you feel better.

Pairing: Twilight and AFAB! Reader (can be romantic or platonic, but either way, he loves you a lot)

Rating: G

Summary: When your period hits- you're left feeling it like a semi-truck. Thankfully, Twilight is right there to help you.

Warnings: AFAB! Reader, menstruation/ period, blood, a little angst maybe??

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

About the nicknames: Pumpkin seems pretty straightforward, it's one I heard all the time from my mama.

Bug in this case is a shortened version of love bug, another one from my childhood.

I've heard both terms used for all types of loved ones, from kids to friends to partners.

-------

You shouldn't be so surprised to see the blood in your underwear- but you are. Between the unexpected quest and the busy schedule you've had to adjust to, you just have been way too busy to pay attention to when you'd next start your period.

Thankfully, you have a few pads in the bag that had travelers with you - but only three. And that isn’t really enough. But you have one for now.

(Thank God you carry a few emergency pads for yourself and others.)

After putting in ypur pad and washing your hands you return to the group. (At least the cramps, moodswing, and genral soreness makes more sense.)

You only walk another hour before you arrive at the inn in Hateno in Wild's hyrule. Rooms are rented, and you're paired up with Twilight.

The first thing you do is collapse into your bed, groaning as you let your body relax.

"You don't look so good, pumpkin." Twilight says as he sits on the edge of your bed.

"I don't feel so good." You admit.

"Can I help?"

"Not really..."

"What's going on?"

You look at him, trying to decide if it's even worth telling him about. He doesn't seem like the type of person to shame anyone about this kind of thing.

But still. It's a little embarrassing that you aren't better prepared and that whole- awful period symptoms ranging from cramps to killer headaches and vomiting.

And if you're a heavy bleeder? It's no wonder some people call it shark week.

"It's um-... I'm bleeding?" You blurt out- not sure how to word it or what people call it in his time.

"What? Where- (Y/n) you can't let yourself bleed without getting it looked at!"

Twilight is pale, and he's very obviously nervous. He looks like he might start trying to single handedly evolve an instant healing spell for anyone to use.

"It's not that!" Ypu say quickly, "It's just that time of the month."

Twilight blinks, taking a moment to process and calm down.

Then he all clicks for him.

"Oh! Oh. Wait, do you have enough stuff for it?"

"Not really. I'll have to grab more tomorrow-"

"I'll go! You don't have to. I know that- periods suck."

"You don't have to."

"I don't mind, (Y/n). Do you have anything in particular you need?"

You take a moment to consider his offer. It's sweet, really.

And you would appreciate not having to go get the things yourself.

Twilight offered. So it probably isn't an issue or a burden.

"If you're willing to go I'd appreciate that."

"Okay, what should I grab?"

You tell Twilight what it is you need. Painkillers, chocolate, a heating pad of some sort, and whatever you use to deal with the actual bleeding.

He just smiles, "I'll be back soon. Why don't you nap?"

"Thank you, Twilight."

"Of course."

-------

You wake up to the door opening.

When you look over, you are relieved to find Twilight with a bag from the store. It seems to have everything you asked for.

"Hey there, bug." Twilight says softly, "You okay?"

"Just- ugh."

"I bet. Here, let's get some food in you."

Twilight pulls out one of your favorite snacks and hands it to you easily. He seems content just to take care of you.

After you've eaten and settled back down, you find yourself looking back to him.

"Can uh-" you aren't sure if it's weird to ask him for cuddles.

Is it?

And more importantly do you care either way?

"Can we maybe cuddle?" You ask after a moment. Becuase really the worst he can say is no.

(Maybe a mean variation of no but that dosen’t seem like him.)

"If you're sure you don't mind that I smell like dirt."

"We all smell that way. It's fine, Twi."

He sets his pelt over his own bed before he makes his way over to you.

He sits on your bed, holding his arms open. He's letting you take the lead on this one, not sure of if and or where you hurt.

You move - tucking yourself under his chin and wrapping your arms around his torso. You curl into him, reveling in the warmth Twilight provides.

Twilight, move you both so you're lying down. You're on his chest while one of his hands moves back and forth across your back.

He's gentle with you. But he holds you firm, sure in his arms. He dosen’t force you to stay, but he dosen’t ask you to leave.

Twilight is one of those people who are just good at giving hugs.

"Thanks." You say after a while.

"Of course, I want you to feel better."

"I really appreciate that. And you."

Twilight laughs, amused, fond, and bashful all at once.

You find yourself struck by how much genuine care is in his eyes when he looks at you.

"Get some rest, I'll still be here later." He says before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You would argue - really you would... but it's very comfortable and you know that you're safe here.

Sleep claims you again quickly, but you know that you'll still be safe and cared for when you wake up.

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu twilight #lu twilight x reader #tw blood mention #cw blood mention #menstruation

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itsjustaninchident · 10 months

Text

✼ Drunk Under the Rain

Mick Schumacher x Fem!reader

Summary: A very drunk y/n and a very worried and amused Mick

Warning/s: None

Author's Notes: Would love to hear what you think of it <3

It was late at night and everybody's asleep, snores from Angie can be heard around the room and faint lightning storms present. Mick sprawled on the bed, a kind of emptiness enveloping the mattress he's no longer used to for the past months. Coldness is ever present in the room added by the slight rain from outside.

A ringtone can be heard from the room jolting Mick to wake up, his senses on alert as his significant other is still not present by his side. He immediately picked up the phone not caring who called him late in the evening.

"Mick?" A voice that belonged to one of y/n's friends rang in his ears.

"Yep?" He answered groggily, anticipating what the sudden call was about. He can hear quiet muffles from familiar voices but what caught his ears to perk up is your whiny voice causing a smile to tear on his face.

"Well, y/n's really drunk right now and she wouldn't come with us to go home. She kept on calling for you and wanting you to pick her up." He couldn't be more glad to pick you up missing you already as if you were gone for days. You would definitely tease him for that if you find out.

"Okay, I'll just go grab my keys." He said not to waste any time picking you up. But before he could put the call down, "Is that Mick? Micky~ Baby, help they're trying to kidn-" Your friend saving you from embarrassment decided to end the call.

He chuckled to himself quite questioning if he can handle a drunk you.

He drove to the club you and your friends partied at. As soon as he parks his car he can see you on the pavement of the parking lot, sitting and barely keeping your eyes open as you often fall asleep and jolting when your head abruptly bobs down.

He went to you, your friends scattered around the vicinity and muttering a quick goodbye when they saw him approaching you, already leaving with their own partners or an uber they hailed. He thanked them all but still focused on your figure slumped off the pavement. He sighed, you're wasted yet still stunningly sporting it. How unfair, he thought.

He gently touched your shoulders trying to slightly shake you still entranced because of the alcohol. You must've enjoyed it a lot given that you never get this wasted in a party before. Nonetheless, he's happy you're letting loose as he knows some days were very stressful for you.

"Stop touching me. I told you, I won't go with you. I'm waiting for my boyfriend." You told off the 'stranger' he chuckled at how feisty you sounded.

"If he sees you touching me, he'll get mad. Plus, you won't stand a chance. He's literally massive." Not able to keep his chuckle anymore from spilling from his mouth, he laughed loudly at that. No way you just called him 'massive'.

"Liebling, it's me." He said and with that with all little consciousness in you, you stood up almost falling down if it weren't for Mick's fast reflex by holding your waist you would've face planted on the pavement. He chuckled at that, he can't keep count of how many times he's found this situation amusing.

"Micky! I missed you! Are you taking me home? Some people were trying to take me home but I told them no. They're bad they kept on pulling me." You told him off as if you're a child being told no. You were an explaining mess trying to get your point across almost slurring the word coming out of you. Pouting the whole time, Mick can't help himself but peck you on the lips causing you to back down and cover your lips, eyes bulging from shock.

"Oh my god!" You muttered, causing Mick to grow worried because of your reaction. Did he do something wrong?

"I told you, I have a boyfriend!" You were tired of telling people that, why can't they just leave you alone? And now a stranger kissed you! "Schatz, I am your boyfriend." Mick can't believe what's happening right now, he's so amused yet so intrigued by you. A while ago you were a mess explaining everything to him and now he's a stranger. He would definitely have a field day tomorrow telling the story to a hungover you.

"Well, if you're really my boyfriend then prove it to me. What's my favorite color?"

"Purple."

"Well, purple is a popular color."

"What's the name of your dog?"

"Angie"

"What's my favorite F1 Team?"

"Ferrari"

"What's, my fav- Wait. How'd you know my favorite team?!" You were freaking out, partly because you never told anyone that and you didn't want to hurt Mick's feelings as he drives for another team.

"Everybody is a Ferrari fan, love." Mick said, quoting a familiar statement from his great friend.

"Okay, fair enough. Fine, I am convinced you're my boyfriend. But! If you try to do something funny I'll let you know I know self defense and I will not hold back on you even if you have the prettiest blue eyes and the cutest smile." You said earning another chuckle from Mick.

"Fine." He held up his arms as if he's surrendering.

He was holding your waist and guiding you to the place where he parked his car when suddenly big droplets of rain came pouring down. As if on cue, you started jumping in the air and holding his arms swaying it up as you seem to enjoy the pour of the rain. The drunk version of you is really something. He can't help but shake his head and admire your carefree state.

Right then and there he already knew, he's never gonna let you go. As the street lights glow off your face, the water from the rain drenching you, and the moves you make while jumping in the rain he's realized that he's deeply and madly in love with you. He hates the rain moreso being drenched in it but when he sees you having fun he can't help himself but put rain as one of his favorite things now that it reminds him of you.

He kissed you, completely taken aback by his action. You were stiff in the first moment but as the kiss deepens you relaxed through it and kissed him back and entangled your arms on his neck, not wanting to let go of this moment.

Both of you arrived in your shared apartment drenched in rain water, you're a little more sober than before but still drunk to not be able to remove your shoes upon entering the apartment. You were so tired that the moment you saw the couch you immediately plopped yourself on it not caring if you will wet it.

Mick sighed to himself, still finding you adorable nonetheless. He removed your heels and slightly massaged it, noticing the faint red marks on your feet. He then went to the bathroom to go get some towels, you're only wearing a tube dress but due to your drunken state you're not even shivering at all. He tried tapping your cheek, whispering softly for you to wake up but to no avail he didn't get any response so he tried to sit you up and slowly dry you with the towel he was holding.

You murmured something inaudible for him. Yet the last part managed to make it to him "I love you, Mick." He smiled contagiously, he's sure the smile will last him a lifetime. "I love you too, Liebling."

He then proceeded to his room to get you his sweatshirt and sweatpants. He removed your dress and your accessories and then dried you before putting you in his sweatshirt, he knew how much you love wearing his clothes even if you don’t admit it plus he loves seeing you in his clothes as well, a win-win situation.

He then carried you to your shared room, slowly putting you down on your side of the bed.

Opening the bathroom, he grabbed for your cotton pads and your makeup remover. He's always observing you doing this every time you both go out and you have makeup on.

Slowly he wiped off the makeup residue on your face. "That feels cold." You slurred in your sleep, he chuckled slightly.

When he finished with your makeup he went downstairs and got you a glass of water and an aspirin for tomorrow as he knows you will be getting a very bad hangover. He put it on the bedside table and turned off the lamp.

Settling next to you he hugged your waist and as if on cue, you leaned onto him memorizing the move even in your not so normal state. Perfectly fitting into each other as if you're molded together. "Still clingy when drunk?" He laughed to himself as he slept with the brightest smile waiting for another day with you

#mick schumacher #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fluff #mick fluff #mick x reader #cute #fluff

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