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dontknowwhatyouheard · 7 months

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Something Special 3

A/N: So I'm trying out new things, and learning new things. LMK what y'all think.

Pairing: Dark Beefy CEO! Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ageless bios will be blocked, non-con, G!P characters, legal age gap, dark!fic, talks of depression, lmk if I missed something Summary: Wanda finally gets what's hers. Word Count: 1864

Chap 1 Chap 2

It was 3 a.m. when Wanda woke next. The warmth surrounding her was the first thing she noticed. She sighed deeply as she moved her hips, and her head whipped to the side when she heard a sigh come from the other side of the bed. As she looked around, she finally realized where she was and cursed herself for not being more cautious. Carefully, she slid out of you as she eyed your face to be sure you were still asleep. She crept across the bed towards your face, tempted to fuck your face again, but she decided against it and kissed your lips as she tucked herself away, still erect, but that was fine if everything went as planned; she’d have you all to herself later that night, and she’d finally be able to care for you the way you deserved. So just like every night before she left through the fire escape with a smile on her face.

–

It was already time for Wanda to see her Sugar again by the time she arrived home. Before heading to the cafe, she changed into gray sweatpants and a white tee. Something simple, but she knew her Sugar would still appreciate it nonetheless.

–

Today, when Wanda walked into the cafe, she wasn’t greeted with a smile like the last time. She knew why, but still, it hurt her a little bit. "What happened to that pretty smile of yours, Sugar?" She said with a pout on her face.

That statement got her a little bit of a smile, but not as full as she was hoping to see.

"I’m sorry, Wanda. I guess I’m just a little upset. What can I get you for today, though?" You sighed, picking at your eyebrows. The stress is practically eating you alive at this point. It was taking everything in not to break down right in front of Wanda.

"Same as yesterday, Sugar. Would it make your day better if I took you out on a date?" She smiled sweetly.

You stared at her, shocked; there was no way this woman was actually serious. You just met her two days ago, and now she wants a date? She hasn’t even had a real conversation with you yet.

"Come on, darling, don't leave me hanging. I'd like to make you feel better if you'd let me," she murmured, pulling your hand away from your brow while locking eyes with you. She realized that picking at your brows must be a nervous tick of yours. She'll correct that soon, but for now, she just needs you to say yes.

"Wanda. I-I can’t ask you to do that for me." You mumbled, trying to let her down lightly, hoping she’d catch on.

"Well, then I’m not asking. I want you to go on a date with me, Sugar. End of discussion." And with that, she sat in a booth to wait for her drink. She sat in silence as you turned around to make her drink. As the tent formed in her sweats, she didn’t bother to hide it; she was proud that her dick always stood at attention for you.

"Wanda!" You gaped openly at the bulge in her pants as she approached you. Was she actually packing to come to a fucking cafe? You snapped out of it when she eventually appeared at the counter. "Here's your drink," you muttered hesitantly, almost spilling it on her.

"Thank you; I'll see you at 8, Sugar," she said, pretending not to notice your stare. She slid a $100 bill across the counter and walked out before you could even react.

—

It felt like the world was crashing down on you. No matter what you did or how hard you tried to push your predicament to the back of your head, it always came back times ten. It was like fighting through waves of zombies just to end up back where you started. You’ve been in this place plenty of times before, so this is not new. Depression has always been a constant in your life, but sometimes you wonder why you fight those zombies; you wonder why you don’t just let them eat you alive, and you curse yourself for all the times you fight just to end up in the same place months later.

By the time you were able to bring yourself out of your thoughts, you were already halfway out the cafe door. You hadn’t even realized you were just going through the motions and that you had already packed everything up. But you didn’t care; you had a date with Wanda later, and you needed to figure out how you would get through it.

—

"Be there in 20 minutes, Sugar 🥰"

The text came through a long time ago, and you were still obsessing over how you would respond to it. Eventually, you gave up. The thought of even having to reply stressed you out. Instead, you tried focusing on which fragrance you would use and what you thought Wanda would like. In the end, you went with a lavender-citrus scent to match your formal attire. You were so distracted by everything that you glossed over the fact that she knew where you lived.

Three knocks sent you practically sprinting to the doorway. You opened the door so fast, that you almost hit yourself with it.

"Well, hello, beautiful! You look amazing." She said reaching out to you with a big smile on her face, having to hold back her laugh seeing the gawk on your face. She didn’t blame you, though; she knew you’d love the red suit and had it made for this exact occasion. "Come on, Sugar, we’ll be late if we don’t get a move on."

"Wanda I-… Wow." You were short-circuiting; you couldn’t even form a complete sentence as you let her pull you to her car. A very fancy all-black Pagani Huayra that costs more than your entire existence.

"You like it, sweetness? I was having doubts about this one." It was easy for her to lie to you. She never once questioned the suit.

"Hell yes, Wanda, you look so damn good." A genuine smile finally appeared on your face, and Wanda was determined to keep it that way.

—

The date went amazing. Wanda almost didn’t want to leave the restaurant, but she knew something even better was waiting for her once she got you home. Before she left her house, she triple-checked that she had everything prepared.

The drive back to her place was relatively normal until the end. Wanda had parked the car on the side of the highway. She placed her hand on your thigh; she knew you wouldn’t object to it, and she knew you had trouble saying no your entire life. "Sweetness, I want to know how this date was for you." And while she genuinely did, she also needed you to be distracted. So as you were telling her how much fun you had, she was able to prick the side of your neck.

"What the hell was that?" you said flinching moving your hand to your neck.

"You’re all mine now, Sugar." And that was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

The rest of the drive for Wanda was silent. She was super anxious and kept her hand on your thigh the entire time, occasionally glancing over to make sure you were still breathing.

When she finally arrived home, she brought you to your new room in the basement, mentally thanking herself for adding more weights to her workouts. She just couldn't wait for you to wake up.

—

It was only an hour later, and finally, your eyes fluttered open. The bed beneath you was so soft, that you were tempted to close your eyes again.

"Oh, you’re finally up, Sugar! I’ve been waiting so long for this; please kiss me."

You didn’t have time to comprehend what was going on when suddenly you felt her lips on yours. You tried turning your head away, but she gripped your cheeks so tightly that it hurt. Your only other option was to kiss her back and hope she’d stop soon.

"Oh, sweetness, that was better than anything I could've imagined! Daddy is so hard right now. I need to make love to you. Please, baby, don't deny me any longer." She said panting heavily. All her movements were rushed as she practically ripped the dress off your body. You scrambled to cover yourself, but she smacked your hands away.

"Wanda! Wanda! What are you doing?" You screamed, trying to throw her off you.

Finally, she stopped for a second, but the look in her eye told you she wasn’t done.

"I don’t want to have to punish you on our first night together, Sugar. But I will if you continue to misbehave. I understand this is our first time, but from now on you will be calling me Daddy. Do you understand?"

What was wrong with this woman? You should’ve known better; you knew it was too good to be true, and now there was no way you were getting out of this. So you nodded, hoping that if you played along, it would get you out of here quicker.

"I knew you would sugar; you’re so good for me," she said, leaning down to suck your nipple. Moaning wildly as she practically humped your leg. It took everything in you not to moan. "I hope you’re ready, sugar." She said while ripping her pants off. She didn’t even bother to take off her underwear, instead opting to pull her cock through the slit.

Your eyes went wide once again. It was real! What the fuck?

"Enough staring; open your legs for me. I can’t wait anymore." She states practically tearing your legs apart. She didn’t even prep you as she sunk into you slowly with a deep groan. She gave you exactly two slow thrusts before quickening her pace.

"Oh fuck!" You accidentally let slip, and it gave her the confidence to speed up. Your hands grasp her muscular waist as if that would slow her down. You were going to cum really soon if she didn’t stop. "Daddy please!" That only seemed to spur her on more as she brought her hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly.

"You can do it, Sugar, cum for me! Cum all over Daddy's cock." And with that, you did. You came with a scream, shaking under her. You watch as she pulls out and starts quickly jerking herself on your face. "Open that pretty mouth nice and wide for Daddy." She panted. You parted your lips, and she shoved the head of her cock in your mouth and came so hard you could see the veins on her abs.

"Swallow for me, Sugar. You’re such a good girl." She panted watching as your throat bobbed up and down with effort while stroking your cheek.

You couldn’t help it anymore, and you started to sob as everything came crashing down on you all at once.

"It’s okay, Sugar. Daddy’s got you now, and she’s gonna take care of everything."

Taglist:

@aemilia19 @eliii1sblog @theylovethesky

#wanda maximoff #wandavision #dark wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #yandere wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff x reader #dark wanda x reader #beefy g!p wanda maximoff #dark beefy ceo wanda maximoff #ceo!wanda maximoff #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda marvel #struggling reader #Something Special AU

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harrycore · 1 year

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FILTHIEST WAY POSSIBLE

18+ ONLY — whilst having, some pretty filthy sex, y/n finally gathers up the courage to ask harry to fulfil one of her fantasies (getting slapped during sex)

reblogs & feedback are appreciated :)

The pace of Harry’s thrusts was ruthless, his hips crashing against y/ns over and over again. His head was hung low, face nestled into her neck as his breath came out in pants. The sheets were pulled from the corners of the bed and the pillows were thrown on the floor, alongside their disregarded clothes. The sight was plain old filthy, y/ns fingers gripping onto the ends of Harry’s hair, her toes curled whilst Harry’s back muscles flexed with each movement, his tattooed body on display for his lover.

He lifts his head from the crook of her neck, his elbows now coming to rest next to Y/ns face to keep himself up. He looks down at y/n with a mixture of love and lust before his lips crash against hers in a sloppy kiss, y/n continues to pull at the ends of his hair, moaning into his mouth with urgency.

The pace of Harry’s thrusts, the way his cock was grazing perfectly against her g-spot, and the way his movement meant that her swollen clit was also getting pleasured was perfect. Everything was perfect but y/n still needed that little something that would finally push her over the edge and into bliss. She doesn’t know whether she should bring it up now. Scared of Harry’s reaction. It had been playing on her mind a lot recently, y/n and Harry weren’t exactly vanilla when it came to the bedroom, they definitely did play around but this, this was something she was unsure of how Harry would react to. She wanted to get slapped, wanted to feel his heavy palm against her face during sex. Something about it made her wetter, just the thought had her clenching tightly around Harry, causing him to groan and drop his face back into her neck.

“Fuck” he growled, “taking me so well. So fuckin tight ‘round me” his hips were still moving at the agonising pace, the plushy head of his cock reaching so deep inside of y/n, she could practically feel him in her stomach. Her eyes roll back at the sensation and her legs open wider, letting more of Harry in.

She bucks her hips upwards, meeting his thrusts. “Shit, just like that” she moans, looking Harry into his eyes. He was gone for her, he’d do anything in the world to please her and the look in his eyes was proof of that.

“You going to cum, love?” He asks, watching the way y/n squirms on the bed, beneath him. “You’ve taken me so well so far” he praises, pushing her hair back. Harry could tell she was close, he could tell she needed that final push to finally let go but he couldn’t quite place his finger on what exactly y/n needed. “What is it you need? Huh? Tell me, pet”

“W-want” she was cut off by a moan she couldn’t control due to a particularly hard thrust from Harry.

“Go on, say it” he eggs on, his mouth dropping open at the feeling of her warm and wet walls.

“Want, want you to slap me” she finally let out. Her head is thrown back, as Harry delivers another powerful thrust. “S-slap my face”

“My filthy little minx” Harry chuckles, moaning lowly, before pressing a hard kiss to y/ns swollen lips. She reciprocates, her tongue sliding into his mouth, exploring him. Harry pulls away to let out a groan, “such a dirty girl” with that he lands a harsh slap against y/ns cheek, she feels the burn on her face, but only moans at the contact.

“Fuck Harry” she cries out in pleasure, grinding her hips upwards, her thighs were trembling, heat pooling in her lower stomach. She was so close, and she was sure another slap would do the job.

“You like feeling used, don’t you?” He asks with a rough chuckle. “Like when I make you cum in the most filthiest ways possible?” With that he lands another harsh smack against her cheek, y/n bites her lip at the contact, shaking beneath him in ecstasy.

“My filthy girl” Harry growls, his hand sliding back to her, his fingers closing around her neck. Y/n grabs onto his forearm as Harry picks up a ruthless pace, his thrusts were so hard and rough that they moved y/n up the bed. His balls were slapping against her ass and her wetness was covering his and her own thighs.

With one final thrust and a squeeze of his fingers, y/n let’s put a high-pitched squeal, her nails digging into Harry’s back as he stills deep inside of her. His cock twitches once then twice before he finally let's go, his seed painting her walls. Y/ns walls contract and squeeze around him, and her fingers begin to play with her clit. The feeling of Harry’s hand squeezing gently around her throat and the way she could still feel the sting of his heavy palm against her cheek mixed with the rhythm of her fingers had her cumming, her wetness gushing out all over Harry.

She was unsure of the sounds leaving her mouth but she knew they were downright pornographic, she could feel Harry’s intense stare as he pulls out and falls onto the bed, beside her. “Did so good for me love” he speaks, pulling y/n into his hold again. Her breathing was still uneven, her heartbeat erratic. Her eyes were closed as she focused on coming down from her high all whilst Harry slowly rubbed her bare arm, leaving kisses here and there on her skin.

Harry also worked on calming his breathing and within a few minutes, it felt as if they were finally both back on earth and not floating in pleasure. “That was-”

“Incredible” y/n finishes off, cuddling into Harry with a smile.

“Yeah, it was, wow. Hope I didn’t actually hurt you though, how’s your cheek?” Harry asked, worry already kicking in as he turned y/n to look at her cheek, his thumb running along the skin gently.

“It’s ok, I promise. I wouldn’t mind if we do it more often” y/n spoke, kissing Harry’s bare chest, she looks back up at him with hope. “I like it rough”

“I do too. If it feels good for you then I’m down to do it again” Harry smiles, kissing y/n's hair before slowly entangling himself from her so he could leave the bed to go get a warm cloth to clean y/n up with.

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry writing

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sleekswosobession · 3 months

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north london is-

celin bizet x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: i love spurs (please don’t hate me)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Today was a big day, North London derby day. It’s a must win game for Arsenal if the team is to stay 2nd on the table (if Man City win their game) and also to brag about North London being red.

As much as you hated Spurs with a passion, you could never hate your girlfriend. Celin was everything you needed, but as always the task right now is to beat them. Be better.

You didn’t run into her a lot of the field, being on the other side as a right-winger, same position as her.

You line-up in the tunnel, confident in your ability to do what’s needed to beat the lilywhite side of London. You look at the team next to yours and meet Cel’s look, you mouth a ‘good luck’ along with a smirk before turning and walking out onto the field.

The game is rough, rougher than the Chelsea match, Arsenal is keeping possession but Tottenham’s defence and keeper are absolutely incredible. There’s obvious tension between the two teams but nothing too bad as of yet.

At half-time it’s 0-0, Leah is giving you all a talk and she seems really annoyed.

“Who the fuck are we? Arsenal. We have never lost a fucking North London derby ever, so don’t make this the first, am I clear?” Hums of agreement scatter through the room.

“I will not allow this team to lose to a team so fucking behind, let’s go.” She finishes, you nod fully agreeing with everything she’s saying.

You go back out with more passion, harsher passes and more physicality. Spurs do similar. It’s in the 58th minute when it all comes crashing down. Marta Thomas shoots and it hits the back of the net. She’s celebrating with her team while yours feels shattered.

You try not to let it bother you but ultimately, it’s getting you in the head. It’s clear the Lilywhites pick up on it and start targeting you a lot more.

When the 83rd minute rolls around, Grace Clinton shoves you a little too hard and you immediately react by shoving her back. It leads to a brawl in which you’re holding each other by the shirts.

“Fuck you Clinton!” You bash, as players come over to seperate you, along with the referee.

“Don’t come at me when you’re the one who can’t take a little shove.” She pushes you back and you stumble. If the look on your face was anything to go by, you are really fucking mad. Just as you’re about to make a countermove, someone is in front of you.

That someone so happens to be your girlfriend.

“Hey, it’s not worth it. Don’t get a red or make it worse for yourself.” Her voice is stern and her Norwegian accent slips out stronger. You huff, walking away ignoring your teammates and looking at the ref who gives both you and Grace yellows.

When the full-time whistle blows, you collapse on the field. Arsenal has lost. Arsenal has fucking lost for the first time ever. You can feel the tears that are threatening to fall. North London is… white and God it pains you to think that.

You’re brought out of your trance by two pairs of boots in front of you, looking up to see Cel and Grace.

“Hey, sorry about uhh pushing you and stuff like that.” Grace says, scratching her neck.

“All good, all apart of the derby am I right?” She nods and it looks like your girlfriend agrees too.

“Well, I’ll leave you two too it.” With that she walks away to where Beth and Jess are celebrating.

“You played really well today.” Cel says, sitting down next to you.

“We still lost, we shouldn’t have.” You sigh, annoyed at everything to do with the game.

“Yeah well, I disagree. After this I’ll drive you home and we can watch movies and order in, sound good?” You nod your head and rest it agaisnt her shoulder until you’re called over to be with your team.

- - - - -

At home, you immediately plop onto the couch. Exhausted from playing 90 minutes and stoppage time.

“What food do you want?” Cel asks.

“Is that Mexican place open? I want nachos.” She nods putting in the other before going to sit with you.

“So what do you wanna watch?” She pulls you into her, so her arms can wrap around your whole body.

“Hunger Games? We can binge them all.” She laughs softly.

“Alright, or as many until you fall asleep.”

“True.”

You start watching the movie and around 20 minutes later the food arrives, you feast and it’s like the game is being pushed to the back of your mind. You feel better with Celin.

By the end of watching the second movie, you’re asleep and Celin takes the opportunity to lift you up and place you in bed. She gets in not long after, and even while you’re unconscious you’re trying to find her in the sheets.

She smiles, cuddling into you and also falling asleep.

—————————————————————————

anon i hope ur happy with this, and it was also very fun to write 🤭 gives me a break from all the other barca things i have to write

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #spurs women #celin bizet x reader #celin bizet #norwnt #norwnt x reader

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glowstick-cafe · 11 months

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♡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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alotofpockets · 4 months

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Close call | Leslie Shay

Pairing: Leslie Shay x Reader Prompt: "I think I'm in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me."

Warnings: ambulance crash, cpr, blood, and injuries. A spin on the accident from S1E11. Masterlist | Chicago Fire masterlist | Words: 1.3k

You were checking the ambo’s inventory with Shay when you got called to an accident scene. The both of you quickly put the boxes that were out back in their places, before getting to the front and rushing out of the firehouse.

Shay had been your partner on ambulance 61 for a couple of years now, the two of you clicked instantly on her first day, and you had been best friends ever since. Working alongside your best friend makes your work even more enjoyable. Of course, there were the hard cases, but having her by your side made everything better.

When you arrive at Shay observes the scene, the accident had happened in the middle of a crossing. Police had the crossing blocked, and a few firetrucks were still present. She decides to park the ambulance near the middle of the crossing, where most of the injured people were located. Another firehouse already took care of the victims that were in the collision itself, you were there for some smaller injuries from bystanders. Mostly some cuts and stabilizing a broken arm, people you were able to treat quickly, and send on their way either home or to the hospital on their own accord.

Once you’ve treated everyone, you make your way back into the back of the ambulance, filling your bags again, so that you’d be ready for the next call. “So, are you still down for a movie night tonight?” You ask her, as you grab some extra gauze packages to stuff into the ambo bag. “Of course, you know I never miss a movie night.” Just as she finishes her sentence you hear multiple cars honking, making you both face the back of the ambulance instantly. You see a truck with screeching tires rushing your way, there is no time to react, before it slams into you.

What happens next is a blur until you wake up on the floor, as your body feels heavy. You raise your hand up to your forehead, when you look back at your hand, it is covered with blood. Realization is starting to hit. “Shay?” You call out. “Shay, are you okay?” Still no response. You push everything that has fallen on top off you away and start getting up, making your way over to your best friend as quickly as possible. She was laying on her side, and much like yourself, her head was covered in blood. You pat her cheek, “Come on Shay, wake up.” No response. With a shaking hand you reach out to feel for a pulse. Your instincts kick in when you feel no pulse.

You’re still giving her cpr when you see an ambulance arrive from the corner of your eyes. The paramedic wanted to take over cpr instantly, but you refused. So, instead he got the defibrillator ready, placing the stickers on Shay. The paramedic had to hold you back for the machine to do its work. After two shocks he got her heartbeat back, everything was still a bit of a blur to you. They loaded her up in the ambulance and you rode with her in the back, holding her hand the whole way, not even letting go as they unloaded her at the hospital.

Along with the paramedics you told her Shay’s condition prior to the paramedics arriving. Still not wanting to leave her side, you walk alongside her bed with the doctors. But you are met with the firm hands of Chief Boden holding you back. “It’s okay, they’ve got her. Let them do their job.” He tells you, his voice soft. Realization starts to kick in and you break down, tears streaming down your face. Boden catches you as you fall into his arms, he holds you tight, hoping to bring you some comfort. When you’re steady again he holds you by the shoulders. “Let’s get you checked out too, okay?” You nod and let a nurse take you to a different room.

Your injuries were minor, only needing a couple of stitches, before you were allowed to join the rest of your team that had gathered in the waiting room. You walked in, “Any news on Shay?” You asked with glossed over eyes, letting your team members hug you one by one, not really registering much, as your mind was only on Shay.

It wasn’t until about half an hour later until you got the first update on her. The doctors tell you that she has a moderate traumatic brain injury, and that they will have to keep an eye on her for the next couple of days to determine the extent of the damage. But that she is awake, and that is a good sign. “Is she allowed visitors?” You ask immediately after the doctor is done talking. “Yes, I would advise one person at a time though, noise might still be a bit overwhelming for her.” You turn around to your team, they all tell you to go.

The curtains are drawn and the lights are off, still you are able to see the shape Shay is in. Her head wrapped in gauze, and two black eyes, along with some more bruising on her cheeks. She smiles when she notices you, “I’m so glad to see you.” She says with a broken voice. “You’re okay?” She asks as you walk her way. “Yeah, I’m okay, just some cuts and scrapes. You scared me so much though, please don’t ever do that again.” She chuckles, “Trust me, I don’t plan on it.”

Shay pats the bed, as she scoots over to make room for you. You lay down next to her carefully, making sure you wouldn’t hurt her. “So, I read in my file that I had no pulse before the paramedics arrived, and that crp had been performed before they arrived on scene. Was it you?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes. Shay reaches out and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, you had to do that.” She whispers into your ear, while moving her hand soothingly over your back. “It was a close call, and I am just glad you’re going to be okay.”

You lay together for a while until you can no longer keep the thought that kept lingering in your mind to yourself. “Shay?” She turns on her side to look at you. “So, with everything that happened, I feel like I got to experience first hand how quickly things can end, which makes me not want to hold things back any longer.” Shay nods her head, signaling for you to continue. After a deep breath, you blurt out your thoughts, "I think I'm in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me." You are afraid to look at her, so you keep your eyes focussed on the ceiling. Shay’s hand reaches out to your cheek, gently moving your head to the side so your eyes lock on hers. “I am in love with you too.” You smile and lean into her touch. “Yeah?” Shay smiles back, “Yeah.”

You lay together comfortably, just watching each other, until Shay realizes she never asked why it scared you, so she did. “Well, you are my best friend, and we work together. I didn’t want to mess anything up.” Shay nods, “Yeah, I get you. Do you think now that our feelings are out in the open, we could make it work? Because I would really like for you to be my girlfriend.” You smile wide when you realize that Shay’s heart monitor shows her rising heartbeat, feeling relieved that your heart wasn’t the only one going crazy at this moment. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

Shay had a bit of a recovery period ahead of her but she knew that with you by her side, everything was going to turn out alright.

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#leslie shay #leslie shay x reader #chicago fire #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfic #one chicago imagine #one chicago x reader

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

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Helooo!!

May I request the the brothers plus Simeon reacting to their s/o (she/her) rejecting a kiss?

Like when they are about to lean in for a kids she sets a finger on their mouth while moving her head back slightly with a smile.

No need to rush, remember to eat and stay hydrated!

rejecting their kiss with the older brothers, simeon, and diavolo

includes: the older brothers, diavolo, simeon x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .5k | rated t | m.list

a/n: hello!! i didn't have the need to ever use pronouns for the mc, which is why i wrote gender-neutral but you are more than welcome to imagine a female one in these scenarios! i hope you enjoy!! my inbox is open to req, chat, or leave feedback, so come say hello!

please reblog <3

➳ lucifer leans down for a kiss, but you’re quicker, ducking away. surprised, lucifer pulls back, examining your expression for any sign of offense. “is everything okay?” he asks, brows furrowed. you feel a little bad for teasing him and fight a losing battle with the smile threatening to overtake your face. i just wanted to be the one to kiss you, you explain slyly, before claiming a kiss of your own. “okay,” lucifer says after you pull away, slightly mystified but unwilling to push. he’s just happy that he’s gotten his goodbye kiss, though he’s got no clue why it matters who initiated.

➳ mammon tries to speak around the finger on his lips, words coming out mushed and unintelligible. after a few moments, he gently grabs your wrists and moves it with a small glare. “what’s the big idea?” he asks, eyes narrowed. “yer rejecting a kiss from the great mammon? doncha know you should he honored, human?” he’s mostly teasing at this point when he says stuff like that, but he does want to know why you wouldn’t let him kiss you. did his breath stink or something? i’m just teasing, you say, before picking up and motioning him to retry.

➳ levi pulls away from you, horrified. “did you not want me to kiss you? did i misread the symbols? oh, mc, i’m so sorry!” of course you didn’t want to kiss a yucky otaku like himself! don’t freak out, you say, a little too late. i was just teasing you. relief swoops through him, heady and fast. “don’t do that,” he whines. “my heart can’t take it!” it takes you leaning up to deliver another peck yourself for him to stop, although that might be more to his whole system crashing and then rebooting rather than anything else.

➳ simeon raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to move your finger. “wow, mc, i’m hurt. to think you don't want a divine blessing, a kiss delivered from an angel himself. you must really want bad luck to fall upon you and everyone you love, which as we’ve established from this, clearly isn’t me. do you-” stop, you interrupt with a laugh bubbling out of you. if you get a kiss will you shut up? “oh, wow,” simeon continues, “now you’re telling the angel to shut up? foolish human.” he’s about to say more but you decide you can’t take it and shut him up yourself, lips pressed firmly to his.

➳ diavolo has never been rejected before, even playfully! yeah, it sounds awful to say, but it’s the truth. he stares at you, stunned, and you wonder if you’ve broken him. “ah, was i making you uncomfortable?” he asks around your finger, clearing his throat. “sorry about that.” you move your hand to his neck and pull him in gently. he follows your ministrations willingly, coming closer to you with ease. i was messing with you, you explain, face inches from his, and diavolo sighs in relief before making up for the failed attempt with vigor.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

AITA for threatening to have my friend's boyfriend removed when he crashed our outing?

This happened a few years ago now but I still feel really mixed about it and want a general consensus. Important context is that my friend (Jen) and her boyfriend (Dan) are both from Mormon families, they're getting out of it together slowly but it does heavily influence how they acted + how the situation was treated. Also, Dan was homeschooled and doesn't have a lot of experience in social situations or with friendships in general because he's super sheltered. We were all 19 when this went down.

So two years ago Jen was very abruptly told she was being sent out of state to a Mormon college in two weeks. I decided to go hang out with her for the weekend with my partner who is also her friend. The first day we hung out with both Jen and Dan. Then the day after we (me, my partner and Jen) wanted to have dinner together alone to say goodbye.

She had been hanging out with Dan before coming to dinner and asked him for a ride to the restaurant. He drops her off, we hang out and have a great time for about half an hour until she gets a text and tells us that Dan showed up to crash our dinner. My partner and I were pretty unnerved by this as we had only met this guy twice before. Jen tries to go explain to Dan why he needs to leave but he insists on sitting at a table I guess to just watch us the rest of the night.

At this point I'm feeling extremely creeped out and protective of Jen so I pull Dan aside and state plainly that him showing up like this is rude and freaking everyone out, and I calmly told him to leave. He doesn't acknowledge anything I say and asks if I hate him. I tell him I don't but I want to say goodbye to Jen properly, alone. He says that he'll sit further away from us and goes back to the tables before I can argue with him.

We try to continue ignoring him for a little while but I hit my boiling point and go to where he's sitting and tell him he needs to leave or I'll ask the staff to remove him. He finally leaves but starts having a breakdown over text with Jen. Apparently he wandered off and she left to go find him. Long story short, he has a breakdown and we all end up leaving before even ordering entrées to go find him.

HIS PARENTS called Jen to shame her for not inviting him and told her that she should have known this would happen, all of this is her fault. I didn't know that would happen, I assumed any reasonable person would think Dan was in the wrong, but I think I should have realized that their mormon families are not reasonable. Jen ended up taking a lot of shit from both her parents and his. I think this also ended up straining our relationship because she loves Dan and I hurt his feelings. She had a hard time really believing this wasn't her fault and that she shouldn't take all the responsibility for his actions like their families told her.

When I spell it out I feel like the plain fact is I did nothing wrong, but because of the emotional context I am really doubting myself. I knew that Dan was hyper-sensitive and has invited himself to events before then felt neglected when he was rejected. I knew that he might react this way so it feels partially like my fault for ruining the dinner. I don't know what I could have done instead to keep everything from escalating like this but I probably should have thought of something else instead of acting rash.

AITA for threatening my friend's boyfriend without regard for the heat she might take for it afterwards?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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matts-k1tten · 21 days

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 Pt.4

Pt.3

summary: Matt takes pictures for the year book at Berlin High and y/n always admired him. In this part, everything comes crashing down in the outcome of everything. Y/n refuses to believe that Matt cares for her and tries to shut him out but Matt doesn’t want to give up anytime soon.

warnings:

“Why?” I thought to myself. Why did I have to do that? Why did Matt have to see it? Why am I like this?

My eyes were glued to the ceiling as I refused to respond to anyone, even my own mother. I still haven’t heard from my father. I lay on my bed with the blanket over my shoulders thinking about everything.

Why did Matt react like that? Did he care? Why can’t Matt be more like his brother?

I questioned myself over and over again but in the end I feel the same emotion.

Disgust.

Followed by disappointment and regret about everything. Regret and disappointment in myself about hooking up with Matt and falling more and more in love with him. Regret with even meeting Matt. I’m only a stupid teenager what was I supposed to do? I was a young girl in love I was helpless! But still, I was to blinded by love to notice Matt was using me for sex.

My thoughts were cut short by my ring tone blaring loudly, echoing throughout my room. I can feel the vibrations of the phone against the mattress massaging my back. I slowly turn my head over to my phone and see the contact name who was Angela. I couldn’t answer I just couldn’t bare the feeling of embarrassment. But I also couldn’t ignore Angela for something she didn’t do. So reluctantly, I swiped to answer with a pit in my stomach.

The first thing I heard was Angela’s frantic voice.

“Oh my god! Y/n! I was so worried! Where did you go earlier? You left so suddenly and Matt seemed worried and he kept mentioning you and saying how worried he was and when I asked why he said there was something wrong!” Angela practically yelled through the phone. My eyes slightly widen hearing that.

Matt…cared?

“W-what? Matt talked about me? What did he say?” I questioned and sat up against my headboard. “He was saying a bunch of stuff about how he needs to see you and telling Chris to hurry up.” Angela replied. I stayed silent for a moment not knowing what to say. Angela inhales and breaks the silence first. “So, what happened earlier?”

I shake my head.

“Nothing, I was just…feeling sick.” I speak saying the first thing I thought of. Angela stays quiet but I could tell she’s cringing. “Umm…alright. I was just checking in, you sure there’s nothing wrong?” Angela repeats. I sigh and pinch my nose bridge. “Yes I’m sure.” I breathe out and let go of my nose. Angela breaths in. “Alright…bye.”

“Bye.” Is all I say before the call disconnects.

Now what do I do? I thought to myself. I look around my room and decide to get up and get ready for….well nothing.

I hop out of bed because I can’t be a slob. I go to brush my teeth and spot Matt’s toothbrush. I pick it up and examine it, I scoff “Asshole” I whisper to myself and throw it away.

I finished my makeup and stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes were still slightly red and the corners of my eyes were stained with tears. I shake my head and look away and down at my phone just in time to see a notification pop up with the 3rd notification from Matt. I hesitated for a moment before I picked up my phone and read the message.

7:12pm

Matt

We need to talk

I’m worried about u.

I’m coming over.

My eyes widen at the last text. I couldn’t see him. Not now, not ever.

Y/n

matt do not come over.

I turn off my phone and wait for an answer. Matt answers about 10 minutes later.

Matt

to late

I sat there in shock not knowing what to do next. Why did he have to be like this?!

I got up and ran towards my window and didn’t see him yet. I turned away from my window and looked around my room. It was clean and looked nice enough. I didn’t want to see him at all and he knew that so why does he keep pushing?

(matt’s pov)

I’m coming over.

I pressed send on the text and immediately hop out of bed. I couldn’t sit around and watch y/n fall apart I just couldn’t. I grab my keys and was about to walk out the door when Chris stops me. “Where are you going?” Chris asks and walks up behind me. I turn around to face him. “None of your business.” I reply and stare at him. He looks at me with a blank expression. “Do not lie to me Matt, where are you going?” He asks again. I roll my eyes. “You’re not my mother Chris, I can go wherever I want and-“ “You’re going to see y/n, right?” Chris cuts me off.

My eyes widen a bit before they return to normal. Chris nods his head, getting his answer from my reaction. “You know, you can’t be like this forever to her. You’re making her think things that you don’t want her to think.” Chris says and points at me. I shake my head. “Wise words coming from you.” Chris laughs a bit and shakes his head. “It’s true, even I see it. She’s in love with you Matt I see it in the way she looks at you. Matt, don’t fuck this up. I know how you feel about her.” Chris says and puts his hand on my shoulder. I look at him in shock for a moment and realize, he’s right.

I look to the ground and then at Chris. I nod at him and he smiles faintly. “Good luck, Matt.” Chris says and walks away. I look at my phone again and see a missed text from y/n.

y/n

matt do not come over.

Matt

to late

I reply to the text and swing the door open. I slam the door shut behind me and walk out into the night air and hop into my car quickly driving off.

(y/n pov)

I pace around my room for a few minutes and plop down on my bed. I sigh and let my head fall into my hands. A few moments later, I hear my window slide open and someone hop in. I don’t even need to look at the person to already know it’s Matt.

Matt stands there for a moment and just looks at me. I pick up my head and refuse to even glance at him. Matt sighs and shakes his head from the corner of my eye. “You can’t even look at me?” Matt says. I stay silent. “You won’t even talk to me?” Nothing. Matt scoffs and looks around my room. He looks back at me and stares at the side of my face. “Can you just look at me?” Matt pleads. I breathe in and turn to him. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and black jeans with a belt and car keys hanging from his pants. I couldn’t help but find him attractive.

“What was that, huh?! Your arm!” Matt shouts. My mother wasn’t home so she wouldn’t be hearing all of this. Matt stomps over to me. “Show me.” He says lowly and grabs my arm and rolls up the sleeve. He stares at the fresh cuts in disbelief at what he was seeing. “How did I not notice this.” He whispers to himself. I look away and let him examine my arm, him turning it occasionally. After a few minutes he drops my arm and lets it hit my thigh. “Why did you leave like that? Why wouldn’t you stay and talk to me?” Matt questions over and over again. I feel the tears start to well in my eyes as I just stare forward.

Matt continues. “Why’d you do that? Don’t you understand that, that could really be dangerous?!” I stay silent and let him yell at me. “Look, I know you’re all hurt about me but you can’t just hurt yourself!” He shouts again. Suddenly, the sadness and tears turn into pure rage and anger. I stand up and meet his eyes. “Hurt about you?! Did you even bother to ask what is going on in my personal life? Oh yeah! that’s right! you’re to self-centered to even care about the people who actually love you and only think about yourself thinking the world revolves around you but guess what, I’m a person! I have real feelings too! You can’t just go around and make girls fall in love with you and break their hearts like that!” I shout using my hands to talk with angry tears streaming down my face.

Matt stays silent. My heavy breathing is all you could hear in the room. Matt shakes his head before speaking. “I-I’m so sorry, y/n. I didn’t know what you were going through, But please, don’t hurt yourssold because of it.” Matt whispers and comes closer to me. He places his hand on my shoulder and hesitates for a moment before pulling me into a long and tight hug. I couldn’t help but start to cry feeling his touch. I hug Matt back and bury my face onto his shoulder and sob.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here baby.” Matt whispers from my ear.” I try to slow my breathing down but I couldn’t. Matt noticed my breathing growing uneven so he pulls away and looks at me. I look to the floor and wipe my tears. Matt uses his finger to lift up my chin to face him and holds my cheek. I turn my face away from him. “Stop acting like you care, Matthew.” Matt’s eyebrows furrow. “What are you talking about? I do care!” I refused to look at him and just look to the side.

“Y/n, look at me.”

“No.”

“Look. At. Me”

Matt’s stern voice kinda scared me so I slowly turned my head to face him. He was staring down at me, he looked kinda mad and worried. “Why did you kiss her?!” I shout in a broken voice. All of Matt’s anger drops from his face and he just looks shocked that I asked that. “What are you talking about?” Matt asks in a soft tone. I scoff and shake my head. “Stop Matt, you know what I’m talking about so don’t play dumb with me and fess up.”

Matt stares at me for a moment. “I-I….I don’t know why I kissed her.” Matt says quietly. He continues. “She dragged me there and without saying nothing and kissed me and I didn’t know what to do so I-“ He pauses. “Kissed her back.” He finishes. I purse my lips. “Maybe…I don’t know, shake her off and tell her to fuck off! C’mon Matt what the fuck!” I yell. Matt doesn’t say anything and just stares at me. “Matt, you knew from the start that I always admired you a lot. But you can’t just take advantage of that and hurt me!” I cry out.

Matt still doesn’t say anything because he knows what he did was wrong. “Wow. Really Matt, wow. Get out.” I point to my window. Matt’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “W-what? No! Y/n we could talk this out just listen!” Matt pleads and takes my hand in his.

I yank my hand away and point to the window. “No Matt! Leave! Go! Now!” I yell. Matt sighs harshly, accepting his defeat and walks over to my window. Matt stops and looks back at me, waiting for me to say something. But I don’t. Matt turns back to the window and hops out and slams it shut.

As soon as he’s out my room I break and fall to the floor. I swear I could feel my heart shatter into a million pieces, it hurt so bad. Everything hurt. I stay there for a few minutes before I crawl to my vanity and stare at my tear stained face. All my makeup was washing away and I looked horrible. I grab a makeup wipe and start to take off my makeup. Once I’m done with that, I waddle to bed and crash.

I was too tired to do anything else.

—————————————————

a/n: hey guys sorry it took so long to post this i just been so busy and i got so many requests and im sorry for posting this so late but in the upcoming parts there is going to be some tiny bits of drama so stay tuned!!

taglist: @sillyfreakfanparty @stasiesturn @braindead4l @sturniololol @idkwhatthisevenislol @blushbunii @cindylcuwho @sturnsjtop @tyslover @stars4matt @st7rnioioss @ilovechrissturniolo1 @annikasturns @thatcrazybitch-69 @alorsxsturn @h3arts4harry @hearts4chriss

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the-cult-of-riley · 2 months

Text

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Two)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: As Act One progresses, you'll notice the time skips between chapters get a little bigger. These guys have an eight year relationship and it would take me forever to write out the entirety of it lmao. The point of Act One is to give you insight into their relationship so you understand for Act Two.

The inspiration for this story was the prologue and Act One was never supposed to be as big as it got. I just wanted to lay a foundation for their relationship and got reeeeal carried away lololol In my opinion, the real meat of this story is Act Two. The whole of Act One is just a build up lmaooo

Placebo - Special K

Coming up beyond belief On this coronary thief More than just the leitmotif More chaotic, no relief

I'll describe the way I feel Weeping wounds that never heal Can the savior be for real Or are you just my seventh seal?

No hesitation, no delay You come on just like Special K Just like I swallowed half my stash And never ever wanna crash No hesitation, no delay You come on just like Special K Now you're back with dope demand I'm on sinking sand

Gravity, no escaping Gravity Gravity, no escaping Not for free I fall down, hit the ground Make a heavy sound Every time you seem to come around

They walked down the street, his apartment building luckily on the road the bus stop was on so they didn't need to go far. He fished his fob out, holding it up to the scanner and hearing it beep to signal the door was open. He watched her as she glanced around, wonder on her face as if she was impressed by the foyer as he led her to the lift. Didn't want her trudging up four flights of stairs.

“This is so… swanky,” she murmured, an amused smile on her face as she looked at him.

“It's alright,” he shrugged as he pressed the button for the lift. He knew it was nice, much nicer than his childhood home. He didn't think it was too fancy though. Wasn’t some fucking penthouse in the middle of the city centre.

“It’s more than alright, Simon…” she scoffed, “it’s probably best we came here and not my place,” she added and when he looked at her, she had a guarded look on her face that made his brows furrow. He didn't like it. The doors to the lift opened and he led her inside, pressing four and watching the door close.

“Love… you could live in a council house in the middle of Moss Side and I wouldn't judge you for it. I grew up in fuckin’ Gorton, for fuck sake,” he muttered as he squeezed her hand. He didn't need her thinking he was some stuck up snob when he was far from it. She smiled then, raising a brow at him.

“It's not that bad,” she snorted and he felt himself relax as she seemed to lighten up again. “It's just a small studio thing. It's above a florist’s, makes the rent cheaper. I work at Cafe Metro in town, doesn’t exactly equal great pay,” she explained softly, looking a little self conscious. He knew the cafe she talked about. It was opposite the Arndale centre and he’d passed it a fair few times. He tugged her closer, nuzzling the side of her head and relishing in the light laugh that he caused.

“Maybe you should show me sometime,” he murmured hesitantly, unsure how she’d react to suggesting seeing her again when they hadn't even fucked yet. Instead of recoiling or making a comment to refute him, she smiled brightly as her cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“We’ll see if you get sick of me yet,” she smirked but he saw something flash behind her eyes and he wondered if she’d briefly thought of her piece of shit ex. He had every plan to make her fucking forget his name by the end of the night.

“Don’t think I'd ever get sick of you, sweetheart,” he admitted, unsure why he even told her when he couldn't quite understand his own feelings. He'd known her less than an hour yet he felt like he’d known her a lifetime. The resulting smile from her made everything worth it. It was the kind of smile that stopped the world turning. The kind of smile that caused men to go to fucking war. He was doomed and he wasn't even mad about it.

The door opened with a ding and he led her once again out of the lift and down the corridor to apartment 4F. He turned the key in the lock, hands shaking with anticipation as he led her in. This wasn’t like him at all, he wasn’t the type to fucking tremble at the thought of touching a woman. It struck him then that he’d never invited anyone to his apartment other than Tommy, Beth and his mum. He’d never brought a girl back here because he could hardly sneak out at first light if he fucking lived here.

It felt right though, bringing her here and he watched with some hesitance as she looked around and took it in. He felt a little self conscious then. He didn't have much, the bare essentials and since he was off with the Army a lot, it looked slightly unlived in. It didn't help that he was a neat freak, cleanliness being instilled in him from the military. There were a few items though that meant things to him. The quilted blanket his mother had made him that was thrown over the back of the couch, the pictures of Tommy, Beth and his mum around on the walls. The newest addition was a scan of Tommy and Beth’s baby that was tacked to his fridge by a magnet in the shape of an army tank.

His eyes were glued on her as she took it all in, wandering over to the couch and touching the quilted blanket with a little smile on her face. It was made of black and camo squares. She turned her eyes to him then and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. He wasn't used to this.

“You want a drink or anythin’?” he asked, wondering what he even had in his fridge since he wasn't expecting company. She fluttered a smile at him as she shook her head, sauntering over to him looking like a fucking angel that fell from heaven just for him. She stopped in front of him, toying with the hem of his jumper as he looked down at her.

“I just want you,” she purred, batting her lashes all innocent like and it did him in. He grabbed her face, crashing his lips to hers with such ferocity that she squeaked and grabbed him to find purchase.

He felt like he couldn't get close enough as his hands wandered, one splaying over her back and pressing her body flush with his. The other hand slipped over her curves, loving how the silky dress aided him in his exploration. Her body was fucking something else, he couldn’t get enough of her delicious curves and her tiny waist. His wandering hand slipped up her hip, running up her ribs before they cupped her breast. He felt her nipple hardening, confirming his stray thought that she wasn't wearing a bra and he moaned as his thumb brushed over the hardened peak through the fabric.

She mewled into the kiss, such a cock hardening noise that he growled, grabbing her thighs and hoisting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands settled on her arse as she giggled into the kiss. He moved into the bedroom, setting her carefully on the bed as he regretfully separated from her.

She watched with heavy lidded eyes as he knelt on the floor in front of her, unlacing her boots and tugging them off one at a time. She had a look on her face as if she wasn't used to being taken care of like this and he found himself wanting to do it more often. He wanted to take care of her, make her happy, make her content. Once the boots were off, he tugged her socks off, making her smile as he stuffed them in her boots so they wouldn't get lost. He watched her from his spot on the floor, hands smoothing up her silky soft legs and his eyes were glued to hers. When he got near the side of her knee, she jerked her legs with a giggle and he found himself smiling.

“Ticklish, love?” he asked ruefully and she pouted playfully at him.

“Maybe,” she smiled and he placed a kiss at the spot, making her giggle again.

He stood up, pulling her to her feet before his hands grabbed the hem of her dress. He allowed his hands to slide up her curves, grabbing the dress up with it. His hands bunched into the fabric as it got to her waist and he pulled it up, revealing more and more of creamy alabaster skin to his hungry eyes. He pulled the satin over her head and dropped it on the floor, eyes glued to her.

She stood there in nothing but a black pair of lacy french knickers and his cock was throbbing at the sight. He could see more of her ink now. She had what looked to be flowers poking out from her underwear on the left hip bone and some words along the inside of her left arm at the top. He couldn’t wait to get a closer look. She blinked up at him, a shy look on her face that the animal inside of him preened at.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, love,” he murmured with a rough voice, thick from his desperate arousal. She flushed, a smile curling her lips and he kissed her again, slowly this time as he allowed his hands to wander her body, feeling her bare skin against his rough hands. He groped her thighs again, hoisting her up once more before moving over to the bed. He crawled onto it before depositing her on her back, head on the pillows with her hair fanned out like a halo around her head. He leaned down, grabbing her hands and putting them above her head, lacing his fingers with hers and being mindful of her sore arm that still had his bandana around it. His eyes trailed curiously to the words on her skin, seeing some kind of quote.

‘Since I was born I started to decay.

Now nothing ever-ever goes my way’.

He wondered what it was from, maybe from a book or song lyrics, wondered if he’d get the chance to ask her one day when they weren’t too preoccupied. He nuzzled the side of her face, loving how her breathing picked up and she arched at him. He kissed her cheek, trailing kisses down her jaw.

“Safeword love,” he murmured. He wasn’t really planning on going too far with her today, his main focus was just to prove he could get her off. He hoped there would be many more times for him to explore all the wonderfully sinful things she wanted to get up to.

“Um… uh…” she stuttered, breathing laboured as his kisses trailed to her neck and he smirked into her skin. “Donuts,” she replied, sounding confused and aroused all at the same time and it just made him chuckle against her neck. He nipped at her then, ripping a moan from her that hit him right in the dick.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked huskily and she nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered and he groaned before biting the delicate skin and sucking on it. She squirmed with a desperate moan and he loved how wanton she was being. He moved away, admiring his handiwork as a bruise was already forming on her pretty little neck.

Giving her a wicked smirk, he moved off her and stood up, grabbing his jumper and practically ripping it over his head. She watched him with rapt interest in her eyes and it made him feel good. She didn't take her eyes off him as he undid his jeans and tugged them off, leaving himself in his boxers before he crawled back on the bed. He settled between her legs, allowing her to feel just what she did to him as his hard cock pressed up against her wanting cunt and she gasped, hands gripping his waist.

Her reactions to him were intoxicating, made him feel like he was the most powerful man on the fucking planet. He’d never been one to drag this out, never knew it could feel so good. Just like how he’d never been interested in kissing before. It always felt far too intimate for his liking and yet now, he couldn't get enough of it.

“Ready to have your mind blown?” he asked with a sinful smirk and she flashed him an impish smile as her hands smoothed up his back, causing him to hum softly.

“Still overconfident, then?” she smiled, looking all pretty for him as she blinked her long dark lashes at him.

His smirk widened into something predatory as he moved away to kneel between her legs, hands trailing over her soft body as he went. He was settled between her parted thighs then and he toyed with the lacy fabric of her knickers, watching as she stared at him with wide eyes. He hooked his fingers into the fabric, slowly dragging them down her legs and finally getting a peak at the flowers. They were roses, three black ones and one yellow that stood out from all the rest.

He manoeuvred her legs until he chucked the knickers on the floor carelessly, his large hands going to her knees to part her legs that were now trying to close in front of him. He pried them apart, knowing she was feeling somewhat bashful by the slight resistance he felt and by the blush that swept up her entire body. He let out a delighted groan at the sight of her glistening pussy once it was bared to him and he felt his mouth water.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. That all for me?” he rasped, eyes finally leaving her soaked cunt to look at her. She had this awed look on her face and he hadn’t even touched her yet, but it made a fire ignite inside of him. She nodded and while part of him wanted to chide her to use her words again, he was far too desperate to touch her.

Teasingly, he dragged his fingers through her soaked folds and she let out a startled gasp, body tensing up in anticipation. She was more than soaked, pretty little thing was more touch starved than him it seemed and he couldn't wait to end her torment for her.

He slowly started circling her clit, eyes darting between where he was touching her and her face, watching her lips part with little moans and feeling how she writhed against his hand. She was a sight to behold like this, he didn't think he’d seen anything more beautiful and he felt honoured to be the one making her feel that way.

He slid his fingers down, sinking one into her and his pleased moan got drowned out by the sinful noise she made, her back bowing a little. She was so tight, wet and warm around just one of his fingers, he started to worry he might not fucking fit in her. He eased a second finger inside, feeling her tighten at the intrusion and moan softly, her eye fluttering shut as her head angled back on the pillow. She was a picture of ecstasy and he felt like he’d barely touched her yet.

He started fucking her with his fingers and he was helpless against the rapt attention she demanded of him in her pleasure. One of her hands bunched in the sheets under her, the other clutching his wrist in a death grip. He found a rhythm she liked, one that had her thighs trembling beside him as sweet little moans left her lips.

Without moving his hand, he leaned over her, propping himself with a hand beside her head as he stared down at her. His thumb started rubbing against her clit as he pumped his fingers in and out of her and she let out a keening moan, eyes flying open.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped. Her pupils were blown wide, he could barely see the blue anymore. “I-I…” her words trailed off into incoherent noises that bounced off the walls. He was pretty sure the whole apartment building would be able to fucking hear her and he wouldn’t be shocked if someone called the police on him, thinking he was committing a murder. He’d never had someone so responsive before and his entire body fed off it. It felt like a drug to him, hearing those noises he was causing, seeing her blissed out face. Her moans got higher in pitch and more frequent, her cunt fluttering around his fingers and telling him she was close.

“That’s it, Charlotte. Cum for me,” he purred, feeling like he needed it almost as much as she did. Those words seemed to snap something inside of her and she let out a hoarse cry, her back arching harshly as she shattered around him. He felt her tighten impossibly around his fingers as he eased her through it, her whole body seizing up before it relaxed and the look on her face was fucking delicious. Totally fucked out. He stilled his hand, not wanting to overstimulate her too much given he still had plans for her.

He watched her lay there blissfully for a moment, eyes shut and a serene look on her face. She looked like an angel.

“You alright there, love?” he asked with a wry smirk and her eyes fluttered open. Her face was flushed but she gave him a radiant smile.

“I think I might be dead,” she replied with a grin and he snorted at her.

“Sorry about that,” he remarked and her grin widened.

“Don't be. At least I died happy,” she sighed dreamily. He slowly eased his fingers out of her, making her gasp a little. His eyes darted to his fingers, coated with her and he brought them to his mouth without a thought. He sucked them clean with a groan. Fuckin’ hell, she tasted good. He didn’t get to go down on someone often since he was the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type, liked it dirty and quick to get it over with. But he had a desperate need to put his mouth on her cunt and it had been in his head since they'd been back at the bus stop and he promised to get three orgasms out of her.

When he looked down at her, she was watching him with wide eyes. Her cheeks were dusted with pink but something flared in her eyes that made him smirk wickedly at her as he finished cleaning his fingers off. He leaned down, capturing her lips and forcing her to taste herself. She melted under him, small hands smoothing up his chest as she kissed him back. She was so warm and pliant under him like this and he loved it. He broke the kiss to kiss along her jaw and to her ear, his still clothed bulge rubbing against her pussy that was so soaked, his boxers were getting damp.

“One down, two more to go, yeah?” he asked devilishly, making her squirm as he started kissing down her neck and then her chest. She blinked at him, watching as he grabbed one of her breasts, latching around the nipple with no warning. She let out a loud moan, hand flying to his head, fingers digging into his hair.

It had grown out a little since his last deployment but he lamented that it wasn't long enough for her to really grab. He thought he’d like it. He sucked on her nipple for a short moment before moving to give the other one the same treatment. Couldn't be playing favourites now, could he? When he had her a squirming mess again, he felt satisfied to continue his journey. He placed kisses down the delicate flesh of her stomach, moving lower and lower.

“Wait!” she called out, making him still instantly. He lifted his head from where he was, devastatingly close to where he wanted to be the most. He wouldn't continue if she wanted to stop though, no matter how gutted he’d be about it.

“What is it?” he asked carefully, running quickly through his head for something he could have done to make her uncomfortable.

“I just… no one’s ever… you know…” she stuttered, gesturing her head to him and what he was clearly on his way to do. He blinked dumbly at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing a little.

“Seriously? I’m startin’ to question your taste in men, love,” he tutted, shaking his head. He shouldn’t be suprised her arsehole ex didn’t go down on her, but he was shocked it hadn't happened even once, even someone else. Something primal surged in his chest at the idea of having this first with her.

“Got you in bed in under an hour, didn't I?” she asked cheekily and it startled a chuckle out of him. She was something else, this one.

“You're a cheeky bitch, you know that?” he asked, raising a brow at her with a fond smile on his face. Can't say he'd ever had an exchange like this during sex before. She gave him a wide grin that made his heart beat all funny in his chest.

“You like it though,” she countered and he shrugged, because it wasn't a lie.

“You want me to stop?” he asked her, getting serious for a moment. She nibbled her lower lip and shyly shook her head.

“No, but… do you even want to? You won't hate it?” she asked him, a small frown marring her features.

“Why would I hate it?” he asked in confusion, not sure what had given her that impression.

“Well… Ethan always said-” she started but he cut her off swiftly.

“Don’t say his fuckin’ name, not here,” he growled and her eyes widened, mouth snapping shut. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, so fucking possessive like that, but the idea of her uttering that arsehole’s name in his fucking bed made his blood turn to lava in his veins. Shouldn’t have been fucking shocked that the tosser probably told her he didn’t like going down on a woman, probably didn’t like the taste or some other stupid shit. He wanted to punch him.

“I’m sorry, that was bad etiquette,” she huffed, covering her face with her hands but not before he saw her red cheeks from the embarrassment. “I just… I’ve never had to do this before, I’ve only ever been with one person. I’m ruining it,” she lamented, her voice slightly muffled from her hands.

Something tugged in his chest at her words and he moved over her again, one hand propped against her head as the other gently pried her hands away from her face. She wouldn’t look him in the eye and it made him frown.

“You’re not ruinin’ it, love. I wanna do this, I’ll enjoy it,” he tried to reassure her. She finally looked at him, eyes darting over his face worriedly.

“Are you sure? I don't wanna be a bother,” she frowned and the tugging in his chest got worse. That absolute fucker, Simon was gonna cave his face in if he ever saw him. Making her feel like some kind of burden to take care of. Taking what he wanted from her and leaving her high and dry. Making her feel like her needs weren’t important.

“Just let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he implored, leaning down and rubbing the tip of his nose against hers affectionately. Her breathing hitched a little, hands splaying on his chest again as she closed her eyes. She seemed to like the little affectionate touch from him and he stored that away for later. She finally nodded and he smiled, happy he’d eased her worries. She had no use for them here, not with him.

He moved back down her body, settling on his stomach between her parted thighs and he licked his lower lip at the sight. Despite the hitch they’d had in his plans, she was still sopping wet and he smoothed his hands up her soft thighs. He could see her breathing ragged, her hands by her sides, clutching the sheets she lay on.

He placed a kiss on her thigh, enjoying the soft noise she made when he did. He was overwhelmed by so much being with her like this. She smelt divine. Not just the slick he’d caused but the smell of her skin. He felt like he was getting drunk off her as he kissed and nipped his way up her thigh, sucking on one area to leave a mark behind. She gasped and her hand went back to his head, her body wriggling on the bed a little. He hummed at the sight of the blooming mark, feeling satisfied with it as he continued his trail upwards.

When he finally got to her cunt, he wasted no time, his patience well and truly thin. He gave her a long lick from her entrance to her clit and she let out a keening moan. He lapped at her clit for a moment, loving how she squirmed against his face before he latched onto it.

“Simon!” she cried out desperately and he moaned against her, suckling harder at the little bundle of nerves as her body bucked and bowed. How neglected had this poor little pussy been? He hooked his arms around her thighs to keep her in place, sucking on her like a man starved as she gasped and moaned loudly, without care. She started chanting his name like some fervent prayer and he felt himself get lightheaded from the sensation, never thinking his name had sounded so fucking good.

It didn’t take long to bring her to her second orgasm and he almost came himself at the noise she made, could hardly stop himself from rutting against the fucking bed to find some friction. He moved away from her, licking his lips greedily before kneeling back up to look at her. She had that blissed out look on her face again and a smug smirk tugged at his lips at the sight.

“Ready for three?” he asked mischievously and she cracked her eyes open, blinking at him slowly.

“I think you might have fucked the bones out of me. I’m not sure I can move,” she whined playfully and he chuckled.

“You're doin’ wonders for my ego, sweetheart,” he grinned and she laughed lightly, looking at him with warm eyes. He moved to pull his boxers off then, shuffling himself out of them and tossing them somewhere. Her eyes drifted down to his painfully hard cock and they widened, darting back to his face.

“Will that even fit?” she asked incredulously and another chuckle rumbled in his chest. She really was doing wonders for his fucking ego. He moved to grab a condom out of the bedside drawer, tearing the wrapper open.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” he drawled, an impish smile on his face as he rolled the condom on and moved back to hover over her, propped up with one arm.

His other hand grasped his throbbing cock and the excitement that ran through him was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He rubbed the tip around her soaked entrance, gathering her slick, and he moaned softly. She already felt so fucking good and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. He idly wondered how she’d feel without the barrier of a condom.

Her breathing was heavy, lips parted with desire shining through her blue hues at him. He locked eyes with her as he slowly started to push in and she gasped, hands digging into his shoulders as he let out a noise suspiciously like a whine. Fuck him sideways, she was so fucking tight. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought she was a fucking virgin. It was taking all of his self restraint not to just shove his cock into her until he was in all the way and he resorted to pulling out before dipping back in, pushing himself ever so slightly further to ease her open to him. She didn't look like she was in pain so he kept at it, pushing in a little further after pulling out each time. On the last one, they both let out moans as he finally sheathed himself in all the way.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hissed, jaw lax and eyes shut as he tried to calm himself before he blew his load like a fucking teenager. He kissed her, needing to stay still for a moment and gather himself. The hand not propping him up grasped her jaw as his tongue tangled with hers slowly, tasting every inch of her. She moaned into the kiss, arms winding around his neck and he didn't think he’d ever felt so weightless before.

He hadn't dared move for fear of not being able to control himself but he was caught off guard when she arched up at him, making him gasp against her lips. He broke the kiss, opening his eyes to look at her. She was flushed but her eyes had that cheeky glint to them he’d seen at the bus stop and he knew she’d done it on purpose. He started moving then, slowly at first as he allowed them both to adjust to the sensation.

“Feel so good, love,” he purred, resting his forehead on hers as she moaned, pushing back against him. He remembered her saying she liked guys being vocal in bed so he was sure not to hide any of the noises she was ripping from him as he started fucking into her a little faster, watching how her face lit up at each and every one.

“Such a good girl for me, sweetheart. Takin’ my cock so well,” he moaned and she whined, hooking a leg up and over his hip and he almost shot his load at the angle change.

“Simon… Simon, please,” she begged helplessly, sounding like she wasn’t even sure what she was begging him for, but fuck if it didn’t turn him on more.

“Don’t worry, love, I got you,” he replied, moving a hand to slide under her lower back, just above her arse. He used it to tilt her pelvis just a little but the guttural moan he got from her told him it was enough. He was hitting that spot inside of her and the angle change had his pubic bone rubbing on her clit. She looked like she saw stars for a moment and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her, watching as she snapped like a rubber band by his hand. She was moaning and gasping, body writhing as she tightened like a vice around his cock and he couldn't hold himself back even if he wanted to at this point.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he rambled through his lust filled haze, rutting into her harder and faster as he chased his own release. Didn't take him long to find it. He came with a deep moan, a wave of pure euphoria starting at his dick and spreading throughout his entire body, even the tips of this fucking toes.

He’d never felt such a release before and he could barely catch his breath. He cupped her cheek, kissing her lazily as they both came down from their highs. He enjoyed the closeness, enjoyed the softness of the moment as he felt himself come back to earth. He didn't want to crush her, so reluctantly, he pulled out with a hiss, tying off the condom before tossing it in the bin near his bed and collapsing next to her.

“Told you I’d get three outta you,” he smirked breathlessly and she snorted.

“I’m impressed and very, very satisfied,” she murmured, sounding half asleep. He glanced over at her, watching how she struggled to keep her eyes open.

“Glad to hear it,” he replied softly, rolling on his side, some subconscious need to be closer to her. She opened her eyes then, looking at him warily.

“Should I… Do you want me to leave?” she asked, sounding self conscious. He was reminded she wasn't used to this and to be honest, neither was he. He didn't bring girls back here for this very reason, because he’d want them to leave but didn't want to look like a right bastard. It was easier just to slip out of their place instead without them knowing. But looking at Charlotte, he didn't want her to leave and he found himself dumbstruck with the idea.

“No, you can stay…” he said quietly, “if you want,” he added quickly, suddenly concerned that maybe she’d asked if he wanted her to leave because she wanted to leave. She shook her head quickly though, putting his worries to rest.

“I’d like to stay,” she admitted shyly and he felt relief flood his system, a bright warmth kindling in his chest.

He reached out, rolling her over to face him and she smiled, moving to snuggle up against his broad frame. She fit against him perfectly, face tucked under his head with her arms pressed against his chest. He slid one arm under the pillow under them so it wasn't in the way, his other slung over her waist, hand splayed on her back to keep her as close as possible. He’d never slept with someone before. When his usual partners fell asleep, he’d be wide awake, biding his time before he could rush out the door. He thought it would be more uncomfortable for him but it wasn't. It felt right. He allowed his body to relax with the feel of her soft and warm body in his arms, getting the best night sleep he’d ever fucking had.

#simon riley x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x oc

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bluejay-flies · 4 months

Text

This is probably going to come as a surprise to a lot of you, but I’ve decided to try half writing half drawing the next part. ( I was inspired by @loupy-mongoose do do this!)

Drawing everything has taken a serious toll on me, I enjoy it but I find myself getting burnt out after each part is finished. So we’ll just see how this goes! I might love it, I might hate it, we’ll just have to see.

First

The small Mewtwo and the strange human sat and stared at the other in shock. Iris’s eyes flicked from the bright green ones of the human in front of her and the darker green of it’s Pokémon companion’s. Her body felt frozen, and she struggled to inhale the frosty air as her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. “O-oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!”

The stranger fumbled it’s words, mouth still agape at the strange Pokemon lying in front of it. Iris was still frozen on the ground, throat tight and chest heaving.

“I-”

WHEEZE-

“D-don’t-”

HGHHH-

Her words kept coming out half formed, and her chest convulsed in an attempt to get the oxygen she so desperately needed. A wave of terror crashed over her, sending her spiraling. She didn’t know what was happening- why was her body reacting like this? Her chest hurt, and despite the chilly weather her skin dripped with sweat.

The human was staring, staring right at her and she knew it was going to kill her, trap her, steal her away and never let her go. For a moment the world disappeared, and she was back in that room, that polished, cold room surrounded by white robed figures…

NO!!!

All of the fear, pain, and panic swirled together, condensing into a tight ball of terror in her chest that filled her body with only one need, a desperate need-

To escape

“AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

A scream burst out of her as the energy swirling within seemed to erupt out of her chest. With a final push of power, she teleported.

Iris opened her eyes.

She was surrounded by white, crystal leaves.

Her feet rested on a slick brown surface coated in ice, and she reflexively grabbed for something to hold onto. Her hands found the trunk and she clung to it.

She was in a tree, not too high above the ground but high enough to make her feel dizzy. She shut her eyes tight, taking a moment to let herself feel the relief of escape.

“…are you ok up there?”

She froze.

The voice came again.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. I just haven’t ever seen a Pokémon like you before, s-so I was a little startled.”

Crap. Crap crap crap.

She had teleported a mere 10 feet away, and was up in the high boughs of a tree easily in sight of the human.

“G-go away!”

“D-don’t h-hurt me!”

Iris choked out the words, voice and body shaking violently as she clung onto the trunk for support.

The human carefully stood up and brushed the snow off of its pants. It picked up it’s Pokémon and brushed the snow off of them, too.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’d feel terrible if I did! Do you need help getting down?”

Iris hesitated.

She was still scared and shaking, but…

She was also a little curious. Sure, humans were bad, but she’d never actually talked with one before. The only stories she knew were what Aunt Mimi told her, and her memories were very fuzzy.

Auntie said humans were dangerous… but this one seemed different somehow. Less… scary.

Besides, it had promised not to hurt her. And promises were important to humans. At least, she thought so.

“N-no, I can get down ok…”

The human’s eyes widened.

“So you CAN talk… I thought I was imagining it before!”

Slipping and sliding, the little Mewtwo half climbed, half fell down the tree, landing with a thump on the snowy white ground. The two surveyed each other, taking a moment to assess the situation. Iris clenched her teeth to stop them from chattering, hands stiff by her side to keep them still. Calm. DOWN.

She took a couple of deep breaths before returning the human’s gaze.

The human was rather short, about half the height of her Dad (she felt a pang of sorrow at that, but it had a thicker build with broader shoulders and waist.

Suddenly the human moved, walking closer with eyes wide with wonder. Iris jumped back, fur puffed up in surprise and fear. The human didn't seem to notice as it continued it’s thorough examination of her.

"If you don’t mind, can I ask what you are? You're like no Pokémon I’ve ever seen, and I've seen a bunch before!”

“U-uhm, I don’t… really feel ok with that…”

Iris stammered out hee response, still wary of this new presence. As curious as she was, she wasn’t about to give the human any reason to hurt her.

“That’s ok! You don’t need to answer if you don’t feel comfortable doing so.”

The human stuck out it’s hand in some strange gesture Iris didn’t know.

“I’m Rose! Nice to meet you.”

Iris stared at the hand for a moment before taking another cautious step back.

“Uh… Iris. Nice to… meet you too?”

Hope you guys enjoyed the change of pace!

First

#mewtwo #pokemon #my art #artists on tumblr #mewtwo ask blog #mewtwo oc #digital art #Mewtwo comic #comic #mewtwo story #Writing #art

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neppednep · 2 days

Note

Hey! If you're busy feel free to ignore this, but could I please get some romantic headcanons for Red Hood? No hard feelings if you don't want to, since she's not on the masterlist or anything, or if you just don't want to do it. But if you do end up doing it then thanks a lot for taking the time out of your life, as well as keeping this blog running.

I wish you a good day, as well as luck in any future endeavors!

Red Hood Romantic HCs

I wanted to make a part for Dorothy too, but I've been busy as hell, so that'll probably come after I get through a couple other asks.

Also, if a charcter isn't in the Nikke masterlist, feel free to still request. I have to remake it one of these days because of the photo limit. Anyways, sorry for being late and hope you enjoy.

》 Being in a relationship with Red Hood can be a mixed bag. On one hand, you two really do love each other, even through the whole alien invasion, pretty much the end of humanity thing. On the other hand, you two don't get as much time together as you used to and even that is an understatement. Between her new duties as a Nikke and worrying whether or not she'll make it back home after her missions, it can get stressful.

》 You would be lying if you said it was easy when she first became a Nikke though. The two of you weren't exactly well off, living in a relatively small village away from most of the fighting. You didn't really think much of it, not realizing just how bad it was until raptures practically appeared out of nowhere, killing everyone in sight. While you were evacuated… you couldn't find her. The only proof of her existence being the cassette player she gifted a friend of yours.

Your breath freezes in your throat as you stare at the red haired woman, proudly walking down the street with a gun damn near twice her size tossed over her shoulder. You don't even know what to feel.

》 Imagine your surprise, spending months thinking she was dead until you saw her and a few others, still alive, receiving a hero's welcome at the city you were staying at.

Relief?

Confusion?

Happiness?

You couldn't even move, practically stuck in place as you stare at the spitting image of your supposedly dead girlfriend.

She scans the crowd, her eyes eventually land on you, having to double take before stopping dead in her tracks. You have no time to react before you see a huge smile on her face. Her weapon falls to the ground with a loud crash and the next thing you know your feet leave the ground as you're taken into a bone crushing huh.

No words really needed to be spoken between the two of you, everyone else in the crowd forgotten. You just bury your head into her large chest, letting reality sink in.

She's still alive and back with you, so you won't complain.

》 It really doesn't seem like much has even changed, besides that hug she goes right back to how everything was before. Immediately dragging you off with strength you didn't think possible. She wasn't a small woman by any means but it just wasn't human. After she introduced you to her squad and catching up, you found out she wasn't. It was a lot to take in. She did die… kind of? Then got turned into some powerful android who fights aliens for the sake of humanity.

》 Irrelevant. By the end of the day you two were in your house, listening to the cassette player she never seemed to get tired of.

》 She did seem a bit different though, only through very small things anyone else wouldn't really notice. Red Hood was definitely more clingy than she used to be, not to mention she was practically treating you like you were made of glass most of the time. It wasn't a bad thing though, just relaxing in her arms, getting the pillow treatment.

》 It did kind of suck when she had to go out on missions. She was on the best and one of the only squads around, but you still worried whether she'd make it back home or not.

》 Dates are certainly fun. Taking you to a shooting range, though not letting you shoot her gun of course, as you'd probably do more damage to yourself than the target. She's quite fond of showing off in simulations, or just going to see a movie or concert, though needless to say those are exceptionally rare these days.

》 Speaking of shooting ranges, out of everyone in her squad, Snow White is someone Red Hood loves to bring around. She's a nice girl, if a bit childish but she definitely looks up to Red Hood, and you to a certain extent. If you like guns or shooting, she'll be coming over a lot to run ideas through you or just hang out, almost seeing you as an older sibling.

》 Definitely protective of you. Not that many people would really try to hurt you. Your girlfriend is part of the Goddess Squad and an android that can tear through even the strongest Raptures with ease. Even then, she won't resort to violence too quickly, usually just using her words to drive them off. If that doesn't work… a flick probably won't kill them.

》 Red Hood is more romantic then her relatively rough and playful exterior lets on. You can't really blame her, you two didn't have the best life growing up, after all. Some nights it'll just be you two staring into the setting sun in a comfortable silence. She does still have a girly side buried deep somewhere in here, though it rarely comes out. She claims doing stuff like that just reminds her of what she’s fighting for, but with the way she stares at you, you know it's deeper than that.

》 It was quite the surprise when one day, out of nowhere, Red Hood approached you saying she was going on her last mission. You were a bit confused, but she brushed it off saying she's been fighting for long enough and wants to spend the rest of her life with you.

》 Was… that some kind of proposal?

》 If it was, you didn't have time to blink, let alone even ask before her face flushed red as she gave her usual smile and speeding off. You just chuckled and shook your head. She was always a free spirit, and you know she'll be back. She always comes back.

#red hood x reader #nikke red hood x reader #nikke x reader #goddess of victory: nikke x reader #goddess of victory: nikke #nikke #red hood

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slocumjoe · 1 year

Note

Would you be interested in writing companions react to the random event where a ufo crashes nearby and the subsequent alien discovery? Thank you for all the fun headcanons

Companions and the Literal Alien Thats Just Chilling Down The Road From Oberland Station Like Its Waiting For Its DoorDasher

Cait; This, like...takes a nuke to her very soul. It wipes everything she is, knows, thinks, away, and Cait becomes clay in that moment, a wealth of possibilities. She might turn to religion, she might become a cannibal. This is a lot to process...Cait's usual method of processing Significant Shit is chems. Can't do that anymore...cult it is.

Codsworth; So long as the alien doesn't die...will politely ignore its existence, feign ignorance. If it dies/is killed, Earth is doomed and the Martians are coming for us all to avenge their kin.

Curie; GET THAT GREEN BITCH IN A LAB IMMEDIATELY. Curie, sweet little Curie, throws all compassion to the ground and grinds it beneath her heel, before lunging at any opportunity to study this thing. She'd put it in a potato sack and drag it if she had to. "But she's a soft uwu baby!" Curie likes Covenant, motherfucker, E.T over here is done for.

Danse; It's big, it's green. He thinks it's a Super Mutant and shoots on sight. Just as he sees what he's shooting at, sees that no, this is nothing from Earth, nothing from the Wasteland, and realizes this thing needs to be communicated with, studied, understood...his laser rifle turns the alien to ash, effectively destroying any evidence of its existence. Crumples to the ground and screams.

DEACON; GET THAT GREEN BITCH AWAY FROM TINKER TOM IMMEDIATELY. Tom would never function right, again. Deacon isn't even freaking out about the alien, he's thinking of Tom, poor Tom, who they all spent years teasing for being a tinfoil wearing nutcase. But he was right, he's always been right, what else is he right about? What would he do, knowing that, yeah, there just might be a ghost haunting his one good sock? Tom can't know.

Gage; Turns around, never reacts, never speaks of it, will try to gaslight any other witnesses and he'll fucking succeed. You could have had that thing suck your dick, Gage will gaslight you until you think you just got real intimate with Oberland Station's melon patch. Doesn't want to fuck with that in any capacity. Didn't happen, doesn't exist. Gets a fear of shooting stars.

Hancock; Freezes. If he's alone, will likely unmoving until the alien has moved on or died of its injuries. If with someone else, looks back and forth between them and the honest to God fucking...that thing. What...what does he do here? Walk away? Walk away sounds great. He'd like to, but unfortunately, his knees have locked up like a Whole Foods when there's a gluten containment breach. Later, it hits and...kinda slides off. Oh. Aliens. I'm going to...not think about that.

MacCready; Kid on Christmas. He remembers what he saw and heard of in the Capital Wasteland, and now there's a smoking gun right in front of him. Will gauge if it looks friendly, tries to approach, gets shot at, has to kill it. If MacCready finds this thing, he's parading the corpse around the wasteland like a circus freak show. Fuck secrecy, what are the wastelanders gonna do, build a rocket and colonize Mars? The rich people probably already did that just before the bombs, anyway.

Nick; Ping-pongs between "get the fuck out of here" and "...seems hurt, don't he?" Like MacCready, would want to try and make peace, if only to give it a stimpak, but...it has some kind of gun. It's probably not friendly. Okay. We're gonna leave, and not talk about this, but we'll check back to see what happens. The alien isn't there. Nick now has to hunt this thing down before it starts freaking people out, because people can't be trusted to behave around something out of the ordinary. As for the realization that aliens are real? Eh...space is so big, they had to be, right?

Piper; Torn between her reporter instincts and her desire to not be the one to deal with this. Aliens are real. Do I have a duty to tell people? They wouldn't believe me, it'd be a waste of time. Do I have a duty to bring this thing back, at any cost, just to prove that it exists? That's not fair to the alien. Does that matter? By the time she's made her decision, the alien has already ran off.

Preston; Chalks it up to sleep deprivation. If there isn't another person with him who sees it, straight up thinks he's seeing things and goes back to doing whatever he was doing. The power of denial cannot be underestimated. If he is with another witness...goes the route of trying to offer it a stimpak, gets shot at, and...much like Danse...his laser musket makes it all go poof. Turns around, claps the other witness on the shoulder. Declares that they're both seeing things. It's clearly not a suggestion.

X6-88; Tackles it and hauls it back to the Institute, no matter the cost. Doesn't even blink. If there's no Institute...curses whatever else might be Up There that the one organization that could have gotten answers got pancaked. No, the Brotherhood isn't a viable solution, they'd just kill it for being an abomination and throw it in a ditch somewhere. As for aliens being real...okay? There are immortals (ghouls) and immortals who can bring other immortals back from the dead (glowing ghouls). That's weirder to him.

#can u tell i have strong feelings on that alien #fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #piper wright #nick valentine #x6-88 #companions react #robert joseph maccready #porter gage #this is almost certainly ooc

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lightning-chicken · 7 months

Text

Unfamiliar, Familiar Dances

(tags from this post, via @finn-m-corvex)

i like how you think, finn! in fact, i liked it so much that i went ahead and wrote this:

(set during s13 ep1, ao3 version here)

“What? What happened? Someone’s located the Teapot of Tyrahn? Uh, Pythor’s back? My father’s been found? What?”

The postman only chuckled in response to Lloyd’s questions. “Heh, you got an invitation. To Shintaro!”

“Shintaro?” Lloyd echoed.

“Mm-hmm, the Ivory City!” Satisfaction and pride at a job well done beamed from the postman. “You don’t deliver one of these every day. No siree.”

As the others chattered away, Nya glanced at Jay to gauge how much of Lloyd’s anxious speculation he picked up.

Someone’s located the Teapot of Tyrahn?

The only reason why the rest of the ninja knew that particular object existed was because of a precaution. Neither Nya nor Jay had been keen on the idea of revealing the alternate turn of events that had upended their lives; though it would’ve been nice to lift some of the burden off of their chests, the questions and confusion that would follow would be too much to deal with. Just the idea of an alternate timeline would concern the other ninja, and that wasn’t even including everything that happened during it. FSM, how would Kai react if he found out she’d—

Not now, Nya.

Through an unspoken agreement, Nya and Jay had decided to keep those events to themselves. Small details, like the Teapot of Tyrahn, could be mentioned in passing as objects of interest, but nothing more than that. Everything else—all of the festering guilt and old hopes and moments that Nya pretended didn’t bother her—got shoved away in that little locked box where Nya kept all the essential, pointless things that got in the way.

(She knew it was one of her old, bad habits, and she was working on prying that lock open and dealing with every little thing one at a time, but sometimes it was simply so much easier to deal with things later. If laterever came around.)

If they ever needed to talk about it, they could talk to each other.

Not that they did that often.

All the ninja had a particular manner of tiptoeing their way around all the unpleasant things they’d experienced in their years as Ninjago’s protectors. They addressed things by not addressing them at all. Something catastrophic would happen, but nothing would change except for deeper layers under ordinary actions: How are you doings were expressed in breakfast offers, sorrys were layered in lingering hugs, I love yous were lent in borrowed clothes. None of it was ever really said aloud; saying it aloud would be an admission that something was wrong in the first place. Instead, they all attempted to return to the safety of normal. Over the years of grieving and ignoring almost-failures and almost-tragedies, the ninja had perfected this uncomfortably familiar dance. The steps were memorised.

At first, Nya had loathed this dance. The ninja’s determination to awkwardly skirt around any mention of sensitive topics infuriated her to no end. She couldn’t see why they didn’t just get any bothersome feelings out in the open and move on. They were ninja, for FSM’s sake—the city needed a set of strong elemental masters, not a group of damaged teenagers.

Then she learned what dying felt like, and she realised that one was a result of the other.

In all honesty, they’d gotten better at coping with things over the years. Weekly sleepovers were established, with pillow forts and fierce competition over who got to choose the movie for the evening. And when the lights dimmed and eyes lulled closed, sometimes one of them would let slip a disquieting thought that’d been bugging them, and that was okay.

They would be okay.

What wasn’t okay, though, was how Nya and Jay had dealt with the events that had happened but also didn’t happen. At the start, they hadn’t talked about it at all, preferring to pretend that everything was (that they were) normal.

All that had come crashing down when Nya caught Jay in the middle of a nightmare, tears dripping down his face when she woke him up, both their hearts pounding too fast to ever be considered normal.

Now they had settled into their own version of the dance. Jay was there to grab her hand when he caught it absentmindedly rubbing her chest where the venom had been, or when she stared at a white dress in horrified rapture. In return, Nya was there to soothe him when someone moved in a certain way and he flinched, or when he spiralled into a panic over details that meant nothing to other people but meant so many things to him. And they were both there to check on the other when often-innocent mentions of that timeline caught them unawares.

Like now.

Someone’s located the Teapot of Tyrahn?

Turning to face her yang, Nya studied him for any kind of reaction. Jay—who she would usually catch doing the same thing—didn’t seem to notice. At all. He was fully engaged in the conversation, oohing and ahhing over the fancy envelope along with the other ninja. Maybe he hadn’t heard it?

No, he definitely did. He always did.

Gently grabbing his wrist, Nya steers Jay away from the others. They’re all too busy talking about Shintaro (whatever that was, she wasn’t really paying attention) to pick up Nya’s murmured, “You okay?”

A sweetly bemused smile bloomed on his face; it was an expression he’d been adopting more frequently than usual. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Nya knew Jay. She’d known him through years of winning and losing, through years of fighting and surviving, and through the best and worst years of their lives—in some cases, she could even say she knew too muchabout him.

(Jay had never quite mastered the art of knowing when some information was too much information.)

She knew about his tendency to ramble when he was nervous, about the way he fidgeted with his fingers when he was flustered, about how his eyes would light up with a blue too bright to be normal when he got an idea. Nya knew what made Jay… well, Jay.

When Jay spoke, there wasn’t any rush to the words, or forced cheerfulness she’d learned to discern from his usual upbeat tone, or tell-tale tremble under his voice. In short, there were none of the things that usually indicated Jay was hiding something.

None.

Nya didn’t know what worried her more: the possibility that Jay had suddenly gotten very, very good at lying; or the idea that he genuinely didn’t know what she was talking about.

Because the Jay she knew wouldn’t—couldn’t—have been so calm about it.

Of course, there was the possibility that he’d finally moved on from it. They hadn’t had to talk about it for months, after all. Maybe she was the one with the leftover baggage.

Still, Nya couldn’t shake off her lingering doubts.

It didn’t make sense. After they both got trapped inside Prime Empire, and after she… disappeared, she would’ve thought that he’d be more aware of the last time something like that had happened, not less. Even Nya was still frazzled by it; for a moment, she’d been…

Death didn’t feel like it did the first time.

Losing her last life in Prime Empire had been quick. Painless. No permeating chill, no agony of drowning in your own body, no dimming view of the person she’d realised that she’d loved all along.

And she’d come back!

She was fine.

Everything was fine.

Jay tilted his head, catching her attention. Judging by his quizzical look, she’d been quiet for far too long. Nya gripped his hand and squeezed it, ignoring how it didn’t fit against hers like it used to. “Nothing, nothing. Just making sure you’re alright.”

Jay hummed.

Usually, when Nya shut down his questions like that, he’d give her space at first, but later approach her just to make sure she was okay. Now, he rejoined the conversation with ease, and she already knew there wasn’t going to be any check-up later.

Inexplicable dread crept up her spine.

Whilst the others started making plans, Kai glanced at Nya for her opinions, only to realise that she wasn’t with the rest of the group anymore. After making his way over to her, he leaned his arm on her shoulder in the older-brotherly way she’d always associated with him. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Kai must’ve noticed the way her eyes had flicked from him to Jay, because the next thing he asked was, “Do you want me to talk to him for you?”

“What? No. No, he hasn’t done anything.”

And that was the problem.

But what kind of problem was that?

A coil of unease tightened around her stomach.

“You sure?” Kai didn’t sound convinced. But Kai was sceptical of a lot of things; it was in his nature, since the early days when the Smith family became two instead of four. Maybe it was in her nature, too.

The coil began to unwind.

Maybe Jay really hadn’t heard what Lloyd said. Maybe she was extrapolating things out of control, trying to connect dots that didn’t exist. Maybe she shouldn’t be doubting Jay: her yang, one of the people she cared about most in the world.

“I’m sure.”

Her stupid line of reasoning didn’t make sense anyway. So what if Jay had changed? Everyone did. People got older. Trying to stop it would be futile, and so would be trying to deny it.

What Nya couldn’t deny was the incessant fact that this Jay wasn’t the same person as her old Jay. Somewhere in the middle of the past few years or months (she couldn’t pinpoint it exactly), her Jay had changed.

There was nothing she could do about that.

Even so, she couldn’t help but wonder why.

#this is the quickest i’ve ever written something #ninjago #jay walker #nya smith #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #ns12 #ns13 #prime empire #master of the mountain #jay ninjago #ninjago jay #nya ninjago #ninjago nya #key’s fics #key’s aus #key’s conversations #digital reflections au

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 months

Text

Aruna hadn’t been described as dangerous before, but Nettie was right to use the word.

summary: aruna's foolishness leads to her finally getting a glimpse into the chasm that resides inside her chest. what she discovers should change something, if not everything.

wc: 4.2k+

warnings: further descriptions of being poisoned, game-adjacent violence (rip nettie), recovery of some memories, mentions of vampiric behavior (careful, he bites), vague mentions/allusions of a parental death, physical description of aruna (her eyes, ears, and hair specifically)

a/n: how much lore can i fit into one chapter? yes.

ao3 | masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Aruna is a godsdamned idiot. A fool, just as Astarion had called her. She had been too trusting, and finally, it had gotten her into trouble.

Real trouble. Life-or-death trouble.

She should react, should move, should follow Astarion’s lead of the defense. She’s clearly been poisoned, for gods’ sakes. But her feet stay planted and her hand stays clutched as her eyes only stare at the scene before her, not even daring to blink for so long that she can feel the burn of reactive tears beginning to gather. She knows she looks pathetic, can feel the shame creeping up right along with the panic, a contract of chills and heat that trace right up her spine. That’s the only explanation for the way Astarion looks at her.

The furrow of his brows is out of disgust. There’s not a single chance that it’s because he’s sharing her fear, that he’s shouldering any of the terrified waves crashing down over her. Even the tadpole connection has finally retreated from her brain.

“You poisoned me,” she breathes out, voice trembling. She finally blinks – once, twice for good measure – as her eyes divert to the healer caught in Astarion’s hold, “You poisoned me.”

“I’m sorry, but-” Nettie’s voice is lost as Astarion digs his blade in deeper. Not yet breaking skin, but an unspoken threat.

He was right. She’s a fucking fool.

It’s the only possible explanation as she snaps her gaze to him, and with all the breath she can manage to gather, she sternly says, “Let her go.”

“I- What?” he hisses, face twisting, “Why in the sweet Hells would I let her go? She poisoned you-”

“I’m well aware, now let her go.”

There’s an internal battle that rages like no other in Astarion as he contemplates her demand. She can see his initial reaction clear as day; he wants to defy her, to deliver a killing blow instead of releasing Nettie. Aruna doesn’t need a tadpole connection to know that’s what his hands twitch to do.

But, then, the look of defiance does the unthinkable – it passes.

With the same speed in which he’d locked his arms around Nettie, Astarion lets them fall away, staying poised with his weapons as he takes a few steps back. Aruna’s hope is for Nettie to come to her senses, for her to have a reasonable conversation and for there to somehow be a cure to whatever she’s just stabbed the confused girl with. Her heart is still racing, pushing that poison through her system, and her palm feels as though she’s holding it right above an open flame. Searing, blistering, shooting pains. It’s getting harder for Aruna to keep an impassive expression, to hide away all that pain in hopes of maintaining some sort of respectable front.

Aruna realizes that maybe, just maybe, she needs to come to her senses regarding all her hopes and dreams of kindness.

“I am truly sorry,” the woman says slowly, one hand still holding the branch as her other begins a slow crawl to her hip, “But you must understand, you are dangerous. I don’t have a cure. All I can do is stop you, before you hurt anyone.”

Dangerous. It’s the first time Aruna has ever been described as such, as of recently of course. She’s been described as a fool, as clumsy, as heroic – but never dangerous.

The girl who cannot even properly wield her blades certainly cannot be dangerous, can she?

Nettie’s words betray her as she doesn’t focus on Aruna, though. She’s quick to spin around as she unsheathes the blade that neither Aruna nor Astarion had noticed, lunging straight for the only dangerous one in the room. Astarion.

He can handle his own. He’s proven that he can; he’s capable of defending himself by easily outmaneuvering Nettie. But there are words seared into Aruna’s every waking breath, and they are all she can hear as the healer attempts to catch Aruna’s companion off guard.

NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO, ABOVE ALL ELSE, SAVE ASTARION.

Aruna hadn’t been described as dangerous before, but Nettie was right to use the word.

Nettie’s blade never makes it near Astarion. Not because of his own quick blades or steady footing, but because of Aruna. The air of the room crackles immediately, a thunder rumbling somewhere deep inside of Aruna’s chest as she lifts a hand and simply channels all the rage she feels sparking awake at the prospect of Astarion’s life being in danger.

A chain of lighting. Beginning at Aruna’s palms, and ending at Nettie’s back.

No matter what I do.

Save Astarion.

Something frenzied within Aruna, the animal that recognizes the elf that has been more of a nuisance towards her than something of importance, fuels the magic. Her magic.

The magic of a sorcerer with one singular goal in mind. To save a life – a life that is certainly not Nettie’s anymore.

The blast sends Nettie flying into her stone desk of equipment, a painful snap sounding as she attempts to break the crash with her arm. And the resulting waves of magic show no mercy as their pulsating send Astarion stumbling on his feet, pushing him back and farther out of reach of Nettie.

The only thing left behind in the room is the smell of burning flesh, the ragged and pained breaths of a miraculously still-alive Nettie, and Aruna’s voice.

No longer trembling, she speaks words that feel as though they don’t even belong to her. At least, not this version of her. They come from deep within, echoing out of that lonely chasm within her that she can’t uncloak from the darkness, “You will know just see how dangerous I truly am if you so much as look at him once more.”

Astarion, tadpole connection and all, stays silent.

Aruna doesn’t know how she conjured the strength for the spell she’s used. She doesn’t even know which spell she’s just used. She hadn’t uttered a single cantation as the lighting had escaped her uninjured palm, hadn’t even thought of one. It had come to her as naturally as breathing; even more naturally than breathing, really, given her current state.

And all that strength is quickly draining from her. Her legs are growing weaker, just as Nettie had predicted, and there’s a twist in her gut that nearly forces her to keel over. But she can’t. Nettie is still alive, and very much a threat. If not to Aruna, then to Astarion.

Even with a back burnt to a crisp, charred skin peeking through her ravaged clothing, Nettie finds a way to stand up once again. Aruna’s hands fly to her daggers, not even bothering to glance and see if Astarion is in any shape to provide backup. The spell shouldn’t have hit nor affected him. And somewhere in that chasm in Aruna’s chest, she simply knows that he’s unharmed.

If he were, she would feel it in an instant. She has no doubt about it. And that has nothing to do with their current tadpole affliction.

Move, don’t think.

It’s Astarion’s voice, but not through the tadpole connection. It’s too muted, too faraway. Like a distant memory that Aruna can’t grasp her fist around.

She listens to it. Whether she’s only imagining it to be his command out of need for comfort as the poison spreads or not, it’s good advice.

Her daggers let out a ring from how ferociously she releases them from her scabbards at her hips, a heavy hilt marked with a moon in her left hand, and one marked with a star in her right hand.

Steady your feet. Keep one arm close to you at all times to protect your torso. Use gravity to your advantage.

Each set of instructions rings out as if traveling through water, back to back, as Aruna’s feet follow. Her stature is similar to that of Astarion’s, barely bent at the waist as she prowls up to Nettie, a look of determination set on her face.

One arm poised to strike, one arm defensively staying close to her waist. She swears she can feel the ghost of palms steadying her along the way, correcting her form, as she goes in for a brutal swinging of her left arm.

Her palm screams out against the leather of the dagger as her blade hits its mark. No hesitation, the metal has dug into Nettie’s chest just as the woman had been prepared for a second attack. Not a mere surface scratch – a proper slashing, one that begins to bleed profusely immediately.

Do not let your guard down after your first attack. Remember self-preservation; if you’ve managed to weaken them, go in for the kill, Aruna.

Go in for the kill, she does.

What’s left of her strength, of her self-preservation, is exhausted entirely on the killing strike. Astarion hasn’t had to move a muscle as Nettie’s body drops to the ground with a thud, Aruna being the one holding a bloodied blade with further evidence splattered across her cheeks.

Her stomach churns. Her knees finally give out, screaming out in pain as they connect with the rough ground. She swears it’s the weight of her actions and not the poison that has forced her down, but her rattling chest says otherwise.

She’s just killed someone.

It’s no longer just her palm that burns ferociously. Her entire body is alight, agonizingly blazing as she curls into herself. Her vision blackens at the edges, her hearing completely fades from her.

Nettie’s blood is on her hands, and if she were in better shape, she’d have more devastation to spare.

She doesn’t hear her own scream of agony, nor Astarion’s yell of her name. The last thing she can see, can remember, is the lifeless eyes of Nettie as she succumbs to darkness.

—

Flashes of memories.

A shadow creeping his way along the edge of the camp, retreating into the forest, unaware of a restless Aruna still awake in the dead of night.

A drained boar along a dirt path, left carelessly in the center. An irritated pale elf, insisting that investigating the carrion is a waste of time.

A whisper of fangs against Aruna’s neck in the dead of a night in which sleep would not come easily to her. Wide, red eyes and a mouth slack to fully expose dangerous fangs.

“Shit.”

A groveling of ‘just a taste’, a promise of strength, a gesture of trust. The piercing, numbing, cold stab of fangs piercing skin. The slow drain, the weightlessness, the gentle coax of ‘that’s enough’.

His mania. His saunter. His revitalization.

Her gift he won’t forget.

As the flashes slow, Aruna makes out a clear image of the night sky that she’s gazing up at. Dazzling freckles of starlight across a stark onyx sheet, a full moon glowing as if brushed with specks of sterling silver.

It’s captivating, comforting, homely.

For a moment, she doesn’t understand the familiarity. The sheer importance of the moon hangs on her consciousness, regarding it as a guiding light as she relaxes, but she doesn’t understand. Not until she turns her head ever so slightly, and she catches sight of the familiar tufts of white hair at her side.

It all clicks into place.

All the dark holes in her psyche that haunt her during her waking hours have been filled in for just a moment within this dream – within this memory. She isn’t recalling them in vivid flashes as she was before, but there is a simple knowing, a simple fullness where vacancy once resided. She knows exactly where she is, exactly who she is, and she knows the man who rests at her side. She hadn’t even noticed the cold body at first, his thigh perfectly flushed with hers without an ounce of uncertainty in sight; it was natural for them. Here, in this memory, this was the normal.

She’s sitting on the boulder with a clear outlook of camp, with Astarion at her side, whispering into the late night just as they always do.

“You know,” he starts, as if she’s entered this consciousness in the middle of a simple conversation between friends, “I swear I’ve heard more horror stories about drow than I have vampires.”

There are no choices for Aruna to make here. This script has already been written, already played out. She can only experience it.

“Really?” she snorts, shaking her head. Her dark hair is pushed into the edges of her vision by the breeze, underhues of ashen purple visible in the moonlight, “Pulling that card, are we?”

He’s wearing a sly yet easy smile. None of the tension Aruna had witnessed from him in her own journey so far is visible. This is the Astarion that that animal knows. That piece of her that resides so restlessly – it’s in control now, because it is the one that has lived this moment before. Soft, trusting eyes. Somehow, she’s aware that his guard has been let down since the night she allowed him to feed on her.

Somehow, she knows that there was a night in which she allowed him to feed on her.

He’s a vampire. New information, but for some reason, it doesn’t startle her in the slightest. She simply knows.

“Are you denying that drows aren’t a part of the shadows that go bump in the night?” he teases. He’s close enough that with every one of Aruna’s breaths, their shoulders are brushing. She doesn’t recoil from it; it’s something to lean into.

She knows him, she trusts him.

She shrugs and leans forward, and he follows. The camp is a bit different from that of Aruna’s waking hours. There’s a tent at the edge of her small cliff she’s come to love, the top clearly in sight. Deep, deep burgundy. It’s Astarion’s tent. He’d set it up there, acting almost as a guard for her small sanctuary she’s acquired in their homey camp. There’s another tent, too, that Aruna shouldn’t recognize. One off to the left, close to the campfire that’s been doused for the night. The occupant is just out of sight, but whoever resides inside, she knows she cares for.

A friend. One she hasn’t met yet. Only in this dream, in this memory, does she know whatever force of nature that claims both that physical space and one within her heart.

“Oh, no, they certainly are,” her voice is so sure, Aruna almost mourns that this version of her is not the one always in control, “You know me. Quarter drow, far more ferocious than you and those toothpicks you call fangs.”

“Darling, I’m hurt. Must we pit ourselves against each other? Would our enemies not cower more if we joined our horrific forces?”

Quarter drow.

Aruna hasn’t even seen her reflection. Not the version of her riddled with holes and lacking in memories. She had no idea – she really shouldn’t even know what a drow is, but the knowledge comes easily to her.

A dark elf. Images of red eyes far more vicious than Astarion’s glare at her judgmentally, cut through by a different pair. Vivid purple. Caring, loving, motherly. And oh so familiar, because she’s aware that when she does finally glance into a reflective surface, she is going to see a carbon copy of those eyes staring right back at her. Generational jewels, a ghost of a reminder of the woman who has long since taken her last breath.

Aruna mourns her. But the memory she’s experiencing now has its restrictions, and as much as she chases after those motherly eyes, she’s not quite able to place them. Only know that she shares them. She knows that she will never see them again before her, only in mirrors and rivers.

“I think my mother would have quite liked you, you know?” she breathes out carelessly, looking at Astarion with impossible warmth. She knows him – she trusts him, “She may have had quite a bit to say about me befriending a vampire, but you’d still grow on her.”

He throws his head back in a bark of laughter that has Aruna shushing him instinctively, “Would she? I never have been the type that most would introduce to their mothers.”

“Well, most are fools. I’ll have to introduce you to mine once we’ve returned to the city.”

Astarion is completely unaware that the only thing that waits in the city is a crumbling stone, grown over with vines, nearly forgotten in the corner of a small graveyard. He will only be meeting the carvings of a mournful child left behind, determined to keep the memory of her mother alive. He has no idea – they aren’t quite there yet.

“It would be an honor,” he nods surely, looking at her with unwavering eyes. They are alight with the same joy that consumes him every time Aruna indulges his antics. It’s beautiful – he’s beautiful.

Something hauntingly, devastatingly gorgeous. Something broken, but Aruna has never shied away from a kindred soul.

After all, how could one broken soul not call to another in the dead of night?

His hand reaches up, and something inside of Aruna prepares to flinch, but she resists. It’s with a gentle touch that he’s tucking her wild hair behind her ear, fingers lingering as they coyly trace the shape of her ears. She swears, they outline a point. Not as obvious as his own, still a bit rounded and subtle, but it’s there.

They’re quiet for a few seconds. Snores from across the camp can be heard, albeit a bit muted, and there’s a distant buzz of insects from the forest at their backs. This moment is only theirs. Come morning, their time belongs to others. There are people to help (even begrudgingly), there are other companions to entertain, there are adventures to be had. But for now, it doesn’t really matter. A bubble of safety, an escape of friendship.

It’s more than Aruna knowing and trusting Astarion. He knows her, too. He’s beginning to trust her.

He has to, because he lets her relax into him, her head falling slowly so that her temple rests against his shoulder. He tenses still, but he doesn’t push her away. If anything, he only leans into her.

“Speaking of Baldur’s Gate,” Aruna murmurs, eyes still looking up at the moon as she speaks, “What awaits you back in the city, Astarion?”

His voice is cool, even more so than his skin against hers, as he replies, “Nothing good.”

For a second, Aruna accepts the answer. She knows better than to push him, and she knows now that he means it when he says as much. But then– the memory taints.

It’s painful.

It’s not a part of the original script. This is not how the moment is meant to go. Something stains it, something makes that animalistic piece of her howl.

Aruna sees it clearly, now, that her soul has been cleaved in half. It’s not an animal clawing at her insides; it is the half of her soul that knows him and knows their story. And it had gotten lost in the memory, recalling simple and sweet times before devastation had struck. Because the taint spreads, the poison consumes, and his words are nothing more than a bitter reminder. This Aruna, this Astarion – they do not know. But the half of Aruna’s soul that held this memory near and dear does, and the words ‘nothing good’ seems to function as knives that drive into it. It knows, it knows, it knows.

Nothing good is an understatement as pain sears through Aruna. Wholly, fully.

Not just an ache. Not just a chasm. Something inside of her has been torn apart and bloodied by the reminder of what’s to come. Aruna can’t remember. The split inside of her is not even, not a 50/50 division. It’s why she can’t remember, and all she can hear is the sobs from the part of her that is forever cursed to.

Save Astarion, save Astarion, save Astarion.

The memory is gone. All that remains is the dark, and the sobs. The dreadful, defeated sobs.

—

When Aruna wakes back up, she’s covered in a cold sweat. With a gasp, she starts to sit up. Those sobs still echo, threatening to spill out of her throat now as a hand is suddenly on her shoulder, urging her to lay back down on an unfamiliar bed roll.

“No!” a frenzied voice scolds, “No, do not get up. If you undo all my healing, I swear-”

“She has been poisoned. Show her some grace.”

Astarion. She should be more focused on Shadowheart’s voice and instruction, but she can only cling to his voice defending her.

Why is he defending her? Why isn’t she dead?

“She doesn’t need grace,” Shadowheart spits back as Aruna’s eyes flutter about her surroundings, refusing to lay back down as she ignores Shadowheart’s hand, “She needs rest.”

She’s inside a tent. The afternoon sunlight casted upon it from above turns the ceiling nearly transparent, the shades of purple and delicate lacing visible.

Shadowheart’s tent.

“Since when are those two things exclusive?” Astarion stands in the doorway of the tent, taking no steps towards the two women, eyes trained on Aruna.

She flinches when the pressure of his tadpole caresses her, and he’s in her mind, breaking through far too easily.

I would lay back down if I were you, his voice begins to coo within her head. The cleric has been feeling rather feisty-

His words cut off as all of Aruna’s racing thoughts pour down the connection. She has no control of it, still reeling from her dream, still remembering the Astarion from her slumber rather than the one in front of her. Still remembering those wretched damn sobs. They aren’t new ones from the part of her that remembers. They’re a memory in themselves. Ones that had poured out of Aruna at some point, ones that were born of pure heartbreak. She can’t place why, she can’t place when – she only knows the broken tone of her own misery.

For a fleeting second, they flash to him before the connection slam shuts. Neither of them had even been aware that it was possible, but it clearly is, even if Aruna has no idea how she’s done it. It feels as though that cleaved half of her soul has taken full control. Instinctually taking the reins and effectively shoving Astarion back to an arm’s length away as she remembers.

He mustn't know.

She almost tries to pry the connection back open in order to spare an apology his way, but Aruna has no choice but to trust herself. If it says that Astarion can’t know, then he can’t. Simple as that.

It still aches when he staggers from the force of the connection being cut, finding his footing farther from her than he originally was. The distance is torture. But it is necessary.

“A mirror,” she croaks out, softer than she’d tried to force the request. Her chest is rising and falling at an unmanageable rate, hysteria threatening to take over, “I need a mirror.”

It was just a dream. It had to be.

But something about the urgency in Aruna’s tone has Shadowheart scrambling to obey her command, reaching about her belongings until she produces a small mirror. It’s passed into Aruna’s quivering palms with care before her knuckles turn white from how harshly she grabs onto the reflective surface, not yet bringing it up to eye level.

She can still see it, clear as day. Her mind feels as though it’s being ripped apart by the images. They feel real. Astarion at her side, her head on his shoulder, the moon smiling down on them. The quiet exchange of histories, that flame of kinship she had felt from the moment she’d even entered his vicinity. The sense of deja vu that had ignited before she’d ever even started to exchange proper words with him.

“I really do need you to lay back down. You still need rest yet, and-”

Shadowheart’s fussing is cut off as Aruna whispers, “It wasn’t a dream.”

For the first time since this all began at the Nautiloid crash, Aruna sees her own reflection. She looks worse for wear, lips cracking pitifully and heavy bags beneath her eyes, but those are the least of her problems.

Vivid violet stares back at her.

When her shaking hand lifts to brush her unruly hair back, she finds the not-quite-pointed ears hidden beneath.

Part drow.

It wasn’t a dream.

The only issue, of course, is that when Aruna looks up to Astarion, she is faced with a terrible truth. If the dream had truly been a memory, if it had been true that drow blood runs through her veins, then it means that someone else’s true identity was also true.

His mouth is agape still, the stun of her pushing him out of her mind lingering, and she can see the shine of his canines from behind his lips.

Not canines. Fangs.

Astarion is a vampire.

“Aruna, please-” Shadowheart tries to say.

Astarion is a vampire.

“I need to speak to Astarion,” her eyes lock on his. Amethysts meet rubies. Precious gems belonging to the night. “Alone.”

taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @writinginthetwilight @moonmunson

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#ghost's stories #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #sorry i posted this on ao3 first haha #i hadn't made the chapter divider whoops #added the ao3 link in tho for anyone who prefers that format!#also i don't have a fancy option for astarion/bg3 fics right now with my taglist thing so we're going old fashioned haha

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