#((woke up feeling an urge for battle-))

[vixtionary]

THE VIEW FROM the Argent hilltops was inspiring. An explosion of life flourishing in the western expanse with water dividing the earth & sheltering the Silent Forest from mundane interference. Beside the two men, a Vindoran steed was grazing peacefully, its dark tail swishing ever so often. It had been a peaceful spring morning; an inconspicuous setting that would have never prepared one for the carnage to come. Now, as wet eyes traversed over scorched grassfields, all Fidel could think about... was death.

Death in the warcries of soldiers; death in the red tinge of the river's flow; death in the rattling of heavy machinery being pulled to join the decimation. Death, in the hand of his General; who solemnly stood above the battlefield, eyes assessing — no, knowing the predicament. Soon, the battle culminates. It becomes apparent then, even to the untrained eye of a mere pursuivant.

They were heading towards a swift and dishonorable defeat.

It would not be long now. The flying cavalry deployed could be faintly sighted in the horizon; thanks to clear skies. But, the Demacian front was not to be underestimated. They had accounted for that visibility by timing the entrance correctly. The raptors are far too agile for cumbersome Noxian machinery to follow. In the time it takes to load a catapult, a simple swoop of the legendary beasts would have cleaved a dozen arms from the frontline.

Fidel's eyes searched for answers in the General's gaze. But when he sought him out, the shadow of dark wings sowed trepidation anew; youthful features wrinkling with a shiver. Their cursed aura poisoned the air, enveloping them both. Fidel's limbs froze when he took note of the malice in Swain's expression; his inhuman glare (which the young guard had yet to grow used to) was fixed on their winged adversaries. Instinctively, he took a step away from him, but his lip still quivered with a question he dare not ask. In a rare display of generosity, the Grand General offered him the answer.

"Tactical retreat. Go, run to the warmasons."

From the frayed edges of his well-worn captain's coat protruded a crimson shape that had Fidel instinctively avert his gaze. Humble origins, as a former farmhand from Tokogol, had equipped him with modesty; to bow his head before a power he could not understand. His lowered gaze tracked the shift of Swain's shadow. Darkness was pooling beneath him, rustling the weeds.

"Yessir." Quivered Fidel, but his meager run would soon be interrupted by a finalizing order.

"Take the mount."

The guard hesitated. But the birds congregating around them like a cyclone were enough of an incentive. Within the blink of an eye, he had already climbed in the saddle, hands gripping the reigns like a lifeline. Morbid curiosity beckoned him to turn his head; over his shoulder, he witnessed the dark force lifting his General off the ground as one might a puppet. His head was assaulted by whispering voices, sweat dripping over wide eyes. Swain's form elevated, wings stretched to full reach.

He closed his eyes.

#;drabbles #;musings #((woke up feeling an urge for battle-)) #((it's probably the hrs i've been grinding vermintide lmao))

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt. 4

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.

“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.

Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”

“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.

“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.

Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.

“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.

Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.

-

You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’

The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.

You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.

You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.

Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?

You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.

In the garden.

-

Miguel heard a gunshot.

It reverberated in his ears.

More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.

His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.

But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.

You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….

Miguel frowned.

The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.

“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.

Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.

Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?

Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.

You were really fuckable.

Extremely fuckable.

It was an objective statement.

But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.

“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.

-

taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben @berry-potchy @s0lm1n @amelialysm @migueloharastruelove @lauraolar14 @tashames @soymiguelsesposa @noblesavagex @miguelsslutprincess @lilipads (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

[ebbaskz]

an 'accident' | h.hj x reader (s, f)

masterlist | series masterlist

pairing : skz!hyunjin x reader (y/n)

content : 18+, morning sex, somnophilia, oral sex (fem receiving), finished in pants, most amazing bf ever hyunjin

wc : 900

The summer breeze flows through the screened window alongside the cascading light that shines over your and Hyunjin’s bodies. 

Hyunjin is restless. His arms lay over his eyes, battling his urges to wake you up in his moment of desperation. 

He should not be so turned on, but waking up to the sight of your barely clothed body lying in front of him got him too worked up to admit it to your face. This, along with the morning wood he woke up sporting, was the ultimate kill shot for his dignity at 8 in the morning. 

He really should not wake you up. You both had a rough night, returning

 from a hard day of work and practice to the point where you barely exchanged more than a few words with him before falling asleep. He had been worked up all day yesterday, and he hadn’t been disappointed or angry when you came home like a walking zombie, but he was pent up.

He wanted nothing more than to wake you up with his head in between your thighs, breathing life into him for the day by reaching you to your climax. 

He figured there was no harm in satisfying those dreams, as sleep sex had been something you commented on once or twice, saying it was “a dream” to wake up to him pleasuring you.

He figured it was about time that this happened, leading to him lowering himself down the bed and pulling back the covers to expose your soft skin. 

A gentle tug on your waistband brought a strong exhale to leave you, making Hyunjin flick his glance to ensure he did not wake you. You only shuffle around a little, spreading your legs more in a subconscious move from feeling him touch you. 

This excitement that runs through him is electrifying, bringing his every nerve to life and contributing to the pulsating of his groin. He didn’t know this would ever affect him like it was. He only scoffed a little laugh when you mentioned it before, not genuinely considering it until now. 

You settle, calmly returning to even breaths. This does not stay for long, though, as Hyunjin pulls your panties to the side, breathing onto your cunt before diving in for what he would consider to be his ‘breakfast.’

You whimper and thrash in your sleep, closing your legs around his had as he works to pleasure you. Hyunjin closes his eyes and works on you with full determination, rolling his hips into the duvet of your bed.

The pressure makes him groan into your cunt, halting his actions for a moment before returning back to his meal.

A hand is then entangled in Hyunjin’s blond hair, bringing him out of his pleasure-filled haze to look up at a newly-awake you.

He breaks away from your cunt to say, “Good morning, beautiful,” leaving a kiss on your throbbing clit and smirking, “you sleep okay? Any good dreams?”

You huff at his antics, pushing his head back toward your heat with a mumbled, “Stop talking, Jinnie…”

He airliy chuckles at your impatience, clearly not wanting to deal with his taunts this early in the morning. He appeals and lowers his head back to lap at your cunt.

You grasp your hand tighter in his hair as he hits your sensitive spots with his tongue. This drags a muffled groan out of him, feeling both pleasure from the tugs on his hair and the rutting of his hips that came in response.

Your eyes roll back as your high approaches closer, thrashing under the hold he has on your hips, pinning you down to the bed.

Hyunjin loves going down on you just for this reason, to see your pretty face twist up in pleasure that he is giving you, his angel. People like to say Hyunjin is a humble man, but when it comes to pleasuring you he takes full pride in his abilities.

“Jinnie- gon’ cum. Don’t stop…please-“ Your last sentence comes out as a breathy whine, making Hyunjin takes a deep breath to try and concentrate on what he’s doing before he finishes in his boxers at your heavenly pleads.

He focuses on you, honing in on your pleasure points that get you even closer to the edge.

Your grip tightens again and a cry leaves your lips as a wave of orgasmic pleasure washes over you, thrashing your hips further into his mouth even with the oversensitivity getting to you.

Your breathing subsides eventually, feeling calmed after Hyunjin brought you back down with kisses and bites across your body until his face met yours, giving you a long comforting kiss to ground you.

“Baby, let me help you now..” you drearily mumble out to him, ready to fully reciprocate the orgasm he just gave you.

“Don’t worry about that, honey,” he chuckles at you, motioning down with his head to the painfully obvious wet spot on his boxers that covers his groin. “I really tried to hold myself back, baby… but you looked too good, and I was too worked up.”

You giggle and cover your face with your hands, feeling something akin to pride at what you did to your angelic boy.

“Okay, then I promise to make it up to you later”

To this he lowers his head into your neck and mumbles back, “I can get on board with that..”

a/n : morning hyune is actually my brain rot. like it’s not a want anymore it’s a need. anyway i am very content with how this turned out and yall are NOT ready for what i have prepared for jisung. as he is my bias, i promise i will not disappoint and i will stay strong to my sub!han agenda. anyway ily all and stay safe!! - eb

taglist : @teenagemoonharmony @lovesunshinefelix @applepenelope @kookiesbunny @dahliadaenerys @dawooosh @hynmgj1nnn @binniesbang @diorrxluvskz @queen-in-the-shadows @hotseesaw @linosgoodslut

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours

[doki-doki-imagines]

Kisses

tw: some suggestive, nsfw (Johnny Cage one)

author note: another idea I needed to write out. Hope you'll enjoy reading those!

If there is something Raiden can’t stand is seeing you cry; tears and snot don’t suit you. Raiden’s warm hands cup your face, calloused hands against your soft cheeks, thumbs brushing the remaining tears  “Come with me” he whispers, chocolate brown eyes looking at you with such passion they almost make you forget all your problems.

He takes you to the field where he spends most of his day “The stars here are brighter than anywhere else” he tells you, voice strong and reassuring before sitting on the ground next to you.

Words escape your mouth like a waterfall, no filter, brain shut, just the need to share, something you are not used to do.

Raiden listens to you, eyes never leaving your face, while you look at the starry sky, your eyes always elsewhere, too worried you’d lose the thread of the discourse if your eyes happened to meet.

“If I know something is that everything other than death has a solution.“ His forefinger push behind your ear a strand of your hair, the action makes you jerk, eyes widening and finally, you look at him.

There isn’t much light, but the moon frames his face perfectly. You can see a reddish hue coloring his cheeks, and a smile full of hope that makes your heart thump with joy “I’m sorry I can’t offer you a better answer, but-“ his hands grip your arms, strong, but without hurting, his strength perfectly stable “Never let yourself down, life will get better believe me.” You bite your tongue “It never does Raiden” you’d like to reply, but his words carry so much hope that you can only nod at him.

He lifts himself up from the ground and extends his hand out to help you.

“Thanks” You say after minutes of silence, your steps on the ground the only sound, not even cicadas try to interrupt.

“For the hand? It really is no-“

“For the company, for your words.” You look at him, now standing in front of your room. You kiss his cheek and wish him goodnight, a shy smile appears on his face as he waves at you.

The newfound warmness spreading from your heart is a new problem you’ll have to learn how to deal with in the next few months, for now, you can only rest and wait for a new day to start.

“You finally woke up, you idiot.” Tomas could recognize that voice between millions of others, so sweet and so caring even if they just called him an idiot.

Grey eyes scan the room, he’s in the infirmary bed, at Madame Bo restaurant. He and Kuai Liang got ambushed not that far and he remembers getting hit at the back of his head; that stung a lot.

“Do you know who I am?” Your voice trembles and Tomas has the urge to coo at you; obviously, he knows who you are, his heart keeps thrumming mercilessly against his ribcage the moment he opened his eyes.

“Yeah, I know, who do you think I am? A simple knock on the head won’t either kill me or make me lose my memory.” He half teases, but the scowl is still stuck on your face.

“Tomas-“ Your voice is serious and he can only look at you, at your trembling lips and shiny eyes “I seriously thought I lost you.” Your arms envelop his figure, your face hidden resting on top of his right shoulder,  new warmth adding to Tomas one.

He is stuck in place, but his mind is running wild. His left hand pats your head and he feels the corner of his lips twitching.

You must care about him a lot.

You lift your head up, your teary eyes locking into his gray ones, pupils wide, so deep he may lose himself in them. Tomas feels the time slowing down, almost stopping, your lips inching closer and closer ‘till they finally touch.

He reciprocates, not a single second lost, your lips dancing and searching for each other, breath mingling, tongue fighting in a battle of supremacy, both wanting to feel more of each other. Tomas pulls you towards him and your body falls onto his, chest against chest, heart beating at the same rhythm, divided by the layers of your clothing. Limbs tangle, hands everywhere, caressing and groping;  from an outside view, it wouldn’t be able to tell where one starts and the other one ends.

This ‘till your hand pulls Tomas’ hair. He breaks the kiss and flinch, maybe that was more than a little hit on the head. He can see you try to pull off from him, eyes full of worry, but his hands keep you in place, on his lap, fingers leaving indent on your hips that will for sure bruise.

“I-I shouldn’t have, sorry Tomas.” Your hands, so tiny and soft in contrast to his ones, push against his chest, like you are trying to distance yourself from him, head turned to the side not looking at him.

Your hair messy, your lips still red and bruised, and that worried expression, fuck, Tomas would like to frame his moment, your cuteness overwhelming all his senses.

Then you both hear a voice, it’s Madame Bo telling you to go back to work, the signal that he has to let you go. You remove yourself, Tomas’ hands finally loosening up. You brush your clothes in place and rush towards the exit.

“See you later” Tomas rasps out.

You nod.

Later you’ll have more time to talk about your feelings.

“Johnny-“ A breathy moan escapes your mouth.

The atmosphere is humid, the heat of your two bodies entangled is almost suffocating.

You missed Johnny, this new project he has been working on keeps him away from home for months. You are a supportive partner, you love him and you want to see him happy but, fuck, you missed him so much.

You are lucky he is on your same wavelength. He opens the door and your lips are already locked, hands unbuttoning shirts and pants being thrown somewhere.

“I missed you so much, Johnny.” You gasp in between kisses, your hand on the back of his neck to keep him impossibly close to you.

He groans, his hands now on your lower back lifting you up from the ground.

Everything else is a blur in your mind, you soon find yourself lying on the bed, legs open and Johnny working his tongue southward, your warm sex as inviting as water in the desert.

“Fuck-“ Your hand lay on his head, trying not to grip to harshly his dirty blonde locks.

“Yeah baby, tell me how good I am.” You look down to see his hips grind against the mattress, so desperate for you.

A wave of pleasure licks down your spine, your eyes roll back, throat exposed while you bit your bottom lip trying to keep a louder moan.

How good it is to be desired.

“J-Johnny you are so go-“ Your phrase gets interrupted by a gasp, a particular flick of his tongue makes you see stars, your legs reflexively close, but Johnny’s strong hands keep your thighs apart, fingers circling the inner side and you don’t know if it is done to calm you or him.

One of his hand leave your legs to play with your sex, his face now squeezed between your soft thighs, but your mind is too fogged to worry about crushing him, not that he minded his motions only getting faster and uncoordinated.

An orgasm soon permeates your body, Johnny lifts up, his lips drenched with your essence, his pupils blown wide, your heartbeat impossibly fast, a different kind of heat enveloping your limbs.

Your lips meet again, you taste your flavor on his tongue, lips locking, his hands now resting on your waist, pushing your chests impossibly close, but not enough, never enough.

“I love you.”

The night ahead is still long.

Bi-Han is awake, sitting on your bedding, naked, but the covers hide everything under the navel. The moon shines bright in the sky,  the light and shades framing his lover's body sleeping soundly next to him.

Bi-Han is a man eaten by greed, by pride, a man made more of scars than flesh.

But you love him and he loves you. It’s a feeling he never knew, it isn’t the kind of warmth he got from his mother's compliments, or from his brother's support, it is something much more exhilarating, that makes his eyes soften and his hardened core melt more than he’d like to admit.

His eyes land on your body, so soft, so sweet, he wants to defend you from all the ugliness of this world.

Maybe from him too.

He looks outside the window, the night is still long, but there is no sign of tiredness in his eyes.

“Bi-Han, it is late you should sleep.” Bi-Han breaths, he didn’t even notice how long he had been keeping his breath in, mind so busy and heart uneasy.

Your arms wrap around his neck, naked body laying on his back, your lips kissing his neck, where arteries and veins flow.

“Worried about something?”  Your eyes look at his face, he doesn’t look back but he knows, searching for any telltale sign of his emotions.

“Nothing you should worry about sparrow.” He breathes out, voice raspy as always.

You don’t believe him, he knows it. Your hand starts to trace the scars painting his skin, your lips barely caressing the newborn scratches on his back.

 “Tell me your worries, my heart.” Your arms hug his frame and push him down together with you.

Bi-Han doesn’t struggle against your hold, his head now in the crook of your neck, free hair tickling you.

“Don’t worry about me, tomorrow is a busy day and you need to rest.”  He kisses the tip of your nose, his calloused hand caresses your cheek, thick fingers drawing circles on your skin.

You kiss him, in a slow liplock. Eyes closed, hands holding.

Bi-Han bites your bottom lips before breaking the kiss and you groan, the only kind he likes.

He looks into your eyes and he only finds love, sweet and blissful. A new fire starts inside his heart.

Bi-Han still doesn’t know how to protect you from this accursed world, for now, he’ll have to settle for showing how much he loves you.

#mk1 x reader #mk1 imagine #mk1 x you #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 smoke #mk1 raiden #mk1 johnny cage #mk1 bi han #mk1 sub zero #obvs the first smutty fic for mk is for Johnny #me and my disease of liking my men dumb LMAO

[dawn-dream-crusader]

DMC boys hedacanons - Sleeping positions

________________

Dante

Due to his non-caring attitude about himself, he dozes off right on his chair most of the time. Legs on table, hands hanging down, a magazine on face instead of a sleep mask. Just how he likes it and just how Morrison usually finds him.

When on couch, he sleeps like a little child, really. It's that one position, when hands are under pillow (even though Dante's is flat like a pancake), legs pressed to chest. He seems to relax more than ever while sleeping like this. Gives him memories.

And when you're with him, he would hug you with one of his arms and pull you closer, so your head lays on his chest, so you could hear his heartbeat, how far he's ready to go for you. Dante remembers a similar picture from his magazine, and chuckles slightly, throwing your arm over his body. These pictures lack sensuality. He pats your head and takes your hand just to plant a little kiss on your palm. You mean more to him than any photo could ever convey.

"Hm? What's it, strawberry? Nothing? Then sleep again. I don't want you to knock out on our tomorrow date."

Vergil

Before meeting up with Dante again, Vergil used to curl up in a ball on ground or a tree to keep himself warm, wrap in his coat, press Yamato to his chest, getting ready for a battle with any entity that would come by. He would wake up from the littlest sound, swinging his sword and accidentally cutting down a tree. There was no rest for him.

After reconnecting with his humanity, Vergil sleeps on a firm bed that Dante bought for him, in his room in Devil May Cry. Now, that he feels a bit safer, he naps, throwing his limbs all apart, still pressing Yamato to his chest, in a grip of disturbing thoughts still covering himself with his coat.

With your help, he slowly becomes more comfortable with not having his katana right next to him. Vergil lays Yamato on ground and finally gives in to his urges: he wraps his arms and legs around you, pressing you closer to him instead of a weapon. He nuzzles your hairline, holding your hands in his, making sure every part of you is warm. As strange as it is, Vergil can't help himself but shower you with compliments all night. He whispers to you, how much he loves you. How much he wants you to stay with him, by his side. Everything that he doesn't know how to say when you're awake.

"I wish I had met you sooner. My star. Maybe, something would change in my life... if you were next to me."

Nero

This sweet boy is definitely what you need, if you like people who kick in their sleep. Every night has the same scenario: Nero throws off his blanket, wakes up from cold and then puts in back on, and in the morning he can't understand how to untangle himself from it. One time he used devil magic and burned the blanket to ashes. Don't try at home.

And with you, he wraps you in. Nero'd sleep at the North Pole with no clothes whatsoever, but he'd totally make you a walking mummy from blankets. Even though he is the best listener, Nero won't let you take your rest without anything to warm you. He's a caring guy, just like his father, but at least, he doesn't suffocate you with his limbs. Nero hugs you and pulls you close, so he feels your breath on his neck. A cute guy.

"Where is this damn blanket.. Here it is. Look, I want you to be healthy, so you don't catch cold. Got me? Nice, baby."

________________________

P.s. Very short. I woke up and decided to write.

#devil may cry #dmc5 #dmc #vergil x reader #dante x reader #nero x reader #devil may cry headcanons

[localtelephonebooth]

Thoughts on Kieran’s relationship with Ogerpon as a previously obsessive teenager:

(I did not proof read this. I just woke up, had the urge, and now it’s here.)

Kieran, to me, is a very relatable character. He is a shy, and quiet teenager in a small town. He lacks friendships and possibly meaningful connections with those who do spend time with him. He’s probably isolated due to the fact that he lacks a phone. Any friends he does make are likely school based only. So, Kieran latches on to anything he can to feel less alone in life. And of course he latches onto Ogerpon. Ogerpon is just like him. A sad “monster” all isolated and alone in the mountains. I’m certain that Kieran has fantasized about meeting Ogerpon and getting into wild adventures with her. I did the same thing with characters I enjoyed.

Princess Luna, for example (sorry to whiplash anyone with that), was a character I heavily related to. She was alone and isolated due to her previous actions. She struggled with fitting in and having a healthy relationship with her sister for awhile. To say I didn’t form an obsession with a character who understood my feelings would be a lie. I think Kieran is the same.

He became obsessed with Ogerpon. He become obsessed with the ideas he crafted of him and Ogerpon. In a way, that fantasy was VERY real to him. So when we come around and lie about meeting Ogerpon, and inevitably become friends with her behind his back, of course he freaks out! We stole his fantasy of him and Ogerpon! And that’s the key point here that people tend to not realize. We didn’t steal Ogerpon from Kieran, we just stole his fantasy and made it our reality.

With my obsession with princess Luna (again, whiplash), if anyone said they loved princess Luna it was a fucking attack on me. Princess Luna was my best friend, and she could only love me! Everyone else was just a jealous thief.

As an adult looking back on this mindset, it’s horribly embarrassing. It’s a mindset I carried into my real life, when I actually started making friends, that ruined so much for me. I lost friends because I was so angry that my fantasies were not reciprocated. I really do think Kieran does the same. He grows sad and frustrated over what happened with Ogerpon. His fantasy is just a fantasy, and that’s fucking with him. So naturally, he finds a new fantasy to, hopefully in his mind, make a reality. And so he chose battling and winning against you. The thing we used to “steal” Ogerpon away from him (Even though Kieran technically suggested battling for Ogerpon, I don’t doubt he used it to rationalize why she didn’t want to come with him). To him, being the best battler will solve everything. Kieran will get his revenge, he’ll finally be recognized, everyone can’t lie to him because they fear or admire him, and he’ll prove to Ogerpon he was the right choice.

.

Now, I want to say something about Kieran. A detail that, for whatever reason, people don’t like to acknowledge: He’s just a kid.

I’m not saying “He’s a widdle baby. He can do no harm!” No, Kieran’s an asshole. He became a bully. I can have empathy for his emotions, but not excuse his actions. He’s a dumb and entitled teenager with issues. And, quite obviously, he doesn’t really have a way to deal with his issues in a healthy manner (seriously, his school is based solely on battling. Anyone who’s going or gone to a specialized school can understand how toxic people can get in that type of environment. And don’t even get me started on the incompetence of the adults in Kieran’s school).

Kieran is a teenage boy growing up right now. He’s got a lot to work through, and a lot of people he’s gotta confront about his behavior. He was an asshole, a bully, and genuinely a bad person for minute. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t growing past that. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve recognition for his growth. You can recognize someone has changed and not forgive them.

Kieran is a really intriguing character and holds a valuable lesson in obsession. And I really wish people would recognize that he’s not just an irredeemable prick or an innocent little guy. He’s a kid learning. He’s going to make really stupid and bad mistakes. Just like how I, and probably you reading this, did.

Anyways, hopefully we see him interact with the Area Zero buddies. I think those three have amazing lessons that Kieran can learn from. Maybe Kieran can teach them a few things too!

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #the teal mask #the indigo disk #pokémon #pokemon kieran #kieran #ogerpon #hey thanks for reading my rambles! #I’m really hoping with the epilogue that gamefreak doesn’t use the peach to excuse his actions #but I think the peach only enhances negative emotions that were already there #idk we’ll have to see! #hopefully the writing isn’t too incoherent

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do, Part 2

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts.

-----

Jason jolted up suddenly from his practiced slouch at the dinning room table. Absently, he was aware of the conversation falling silent around him, but he barely took notice past the hum of static that filled his ears. It was like a hundred radio stations playing at once. Each one was trying to say the same message— to tell Jason the same information— but it was like it was all in different languages and pacing. And it was getting louder and louder and—

The glass in his hand shattered.

And suddenly it was quiet.

Shards of glass dug into his palm. A blissfully quite part of him was aware of blood and wine dripping down his palm and onto the table. He sucked in a shuddering breath.

“Jaybird?” Dick asked. He was leaned in close next to Jason, but even though Dick had reached out, he didn’t touch. They were all so careful about touching him these days.

Thing were better; the best they had ever been since his return from the dead. There were monthly dinners at the manor and sharing information and the occasional patrol together— but they still were so cautious about touching him. Even Dick, who always put on a smile and an easy air, had an almost minuscule hesitation before he reached out and touched Jason on the good days. On the bad days, Dick didn’t even try. Only Cass would touch him without checking the colors of his eyes first, but she still held back when the signs were obvious. He couldn’t even blame any of them, not any more.

Not even as the Pit whispered to him that it was because they didn’t care enough to try.

“Jay?” Dick tried again.

And Jason didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know why. Usually there was some comment, some action, some instigation that made the Pit rear its ugly head and scream. This time there was nothing like that. His vision didn’t even fill with green. It was more like someone had walked over his grave. He didn’t even feel the urge to lay a hand on anyone in the room. There was no violence to any of his family bubbling under his skin like the Pit normally pulled up. He just wanted to get out of there.

“Something’s in Crime Alley,” he said, or he thought he said. He moved to stand, but Dick finally touched him. A heavy hand on his shoulder kept him sitting. He could hear them talking around him, Bruce giving Tim some sort of an order, maybe calling for Alfred. It didn’t matter. He had to get out of there. He had to get back home.

Something was in Crime Alley.

----- The longer that Danny was in the other halfa’s haunt the more sure Danny was that he did not want to meet the halfa. This haunt did not feel good. Danny was sure that the state of this part of the city didn’t help the feeling, not with the rows of condemned buildings, dirty alleys, and overflowing gutters.

He was also pretty sure he’d just passed a drug deal, but Danny was careful not to look too closely. Sure, he couldn’t really be killed if he attracted too much attention, not by something as basic as a gun or knife, but he’d just gotten this hoodie. He didn’t really want to get blood on it.

He also didn’t really want to risk getting caught in his apartments laundry room trying to get that much blood out of something. His was pretty sure neighbors already thought he was was a little shady.

That happened when someone woke up screaming a lot, he guessed.

But the drug deals and run down infrastructure didn’t explain how off Danny felt. The longer that Danny was in the haunt, the more that it felt like his core was roiling. Like something inside it was bubbling up and if he didn’t force it back down it would consume him. It scared him.

Worse, it made him angry.

Danny was more than half worried that if he ran into the other halfa now, he would just punch the other ghost. He may have zoned out on a lot of the princess’ lesson, but he was pretty that was not the right etiquette for anything other than starting a turf war.

Hoping to avoid another battle, Danny made his way as quickly as he could out of the haunt. He could do his shopping somewhere else. The edges of the haunt were surprisingly defined. From one side of the street to the next it was like Danny had jumped into a pool of ice cold water.

All of the fear—

All of anger—

All of the oppressing, consuming hate that he had been feeling were just… gone. Just like that.

Yep. Danny really need to get that ‘please don’t disembowel me’ gift and get the fuck out of here before he ran into the other halfa.

Maybe he could even gift some things to help the other unwind, because boy did the other halfa need to. It’s not like scented candles or chocolate would actually save a soul, but who didn’t like a nice relaxing bathbomb and something nice to eat? Right?

It took longer than Danny expected to find the right sort of store, but it turned out to have almost everything he needed. Bathbombs? Check. One had a nice, warm scent to it: amber and sandlewood and smoke and the other was a nice simple citrus. He figured that range covered the bases. There was even a little basket he could buy and, when he mentioned it was a gift, the staff gave him a small, simple card to write his message on. He filled it out there in the store and tuck into the basket the clerk had done up with a little crinkle cut and a craft paper bow.

On the way back he stopped at the sweet shop he had passed and added a little box of truffles to the basket. For a quick gift he thought it actually looked really nice. If he hadn’t been in a rush he might have done one up for Jazz too. Ancients knew she needed to relax a little more.

As it was, he found another alley to tuck into and transformed back to his ghost form. As soon as he dropped off the gift, he planed to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to risk a delay of transforming and running into the other halfa in his mortal form.

Flying back, he went against everything is gut told him and flew deeper and deeper into haunt. The fear and the anger came back quickly, churning in his core, but the more that Danny followed the feeling to the center of the haunt there was something added to it.

There was sadness.

A deep, soul consuming sadness. It made Danny want to flee for a whole different reason; it was a feeling that he knew too well. Pushing his trepidation aside, Danny pressed on and slipped through the wall to stand in front of the door to what he was sure was the other halfa’s apartment. This was the most concentrated part of the haunt at least.

Danny chewed on his lip as he stared at the door. For some reason, now that he was standing in front of the apartment, he was nervous about leaving the gift. He shook himself out of it, quickly set the basket down at the door, and fled. At least it was done.

-----

“Sorry for intruding on your haunt! Total accident. Please don’t disembowel me. Sorry again,” Dick read off the card that had been tucked into the gift basket.

This brings us to the end of Ch. 1 and the very first line of Ch. 2. My apologies for any mistakes, I've had a migraine for about a month now.

Tag list: @fisticuffsatapplebees | @thegatorsgoose | @wolfeyedwitch | @lazy-bouqet

#dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #red hood #jason todd #dead on main #like betta fish do

[gingiesworld]

Old Flames

Civil War Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings : Smut. Reader has a penis. Breeding.

Requested by @ginnsbaker

18+ MINORS DNI

"Forever."

"And always."

After the battle at the airport, Vision tried to help get Wanda free from the Raft. Tony could see that the synthezoid was evolving, he was feeling more human with each passing moment. What Tony had never expected was the news he recieved when he arrived at the Raft.

"Wanda Maximoff was broken free last night." Secretary Ross informed him. "You wouldn't have anything to do with it now?"

"No." Tony told him firmly. "As much as I feel horrible with her being here, I wouldn't go back on the Accords."

"The power went down. The cameras were hacked." Secretary Ross stated. "The only person that came to mind with that was you."

"I can assure you. It wasn't me." Tony stated. "You can search the compound and every one of my safe houses but I assure you it wasn't me."

Wanda soon woke up in a dimly lit room, her eyes darting around the room. She wasn't in the restraints she was put in when she was in the Raft. She was just in her suit.

"You know, when I heard your name on the news after the incident. I just couldn't believe you were still alive." She watched as a figure emerged from the doorway.

"Who are you?" She asked, her accent thick.

"I'm hurt that you don't recognise my voice." They spoke, feigning hurt. "After all, you were the one who said always."

"You were dead." Wanda whispered as Y/N chuckled.

"That is what Strucker told you." Y/N stated as they took a seat on the bed beside her. "I was transferred. After they realised our bond. Our relationship, they used it as leverage for their own gain." Wanda remained silent as they spoke. "They told me that you had lost the baby."

"What baby?" Wanda questioned. She remembered their nights spent together, but she was never pregnant.

"They were the ones who told me you were pregnant, and when you miscarried. They told me that you never wanted to see me again." They told her.

"Y/N, you were the only one I ever cared about. Why would I hate you?" Wanda questioned as Y/N shrugged.

"I wanted to have a family with you Wanda." They whispered, they had flicked on the light. Wanda gasped as she saw the once warm blue eyes she fell in love with. "I always did, since we were little."

"Y/N, we're completely different people now." She whispered as they took her hand in theirs. Playing with the many rings on her fingers.

"You will always be the same Wanda to me." They whispered as she shook her head.

"Y/N, we don't know each other anymore." Wanda tried as Y/N shook their head and cupped her cheek.

"You are just a little different." They whispered as their thumb brushed against her bottom lip. "But I bet I remember all of the things that make you squirm." Wanda sighed when they pressed their lips against her own, almost getting lost in the feeling.

"I can't." Wanda whispered as she pulled away.

"You can Wanda." They told her as she shook her head.

"I have Vision." She told them as they smiled at her.

"I understand your powers may be different but it will be ok. This is meant to be. We are meant to be." They told her as they brushed her hair from her face.

"No. Vision has nothing to do with my powers." Wanda whispered as her heart pounded in her chest as Y/N untied her corset. "He is my uh, well I'm not quite sure what we are."

"You're mine Wanda." Y/N told her sternly. "You belong to me, and me alone." Wanda sighed when she felt their lips on her skin as they removed her top. Their hands softly grazing her skin. Remembering the way her skin reacted to their touch.

Wanda moaned as they wrapped their lips around her nipple. Wanda's hand went to the back of their head. Keeping them in place as they continued to suck on the hardened bud.

"Fuck." Wanda moaned lewdly when Y/N's fingers made their way beneath her pants and underwear. Thrusting slowly into her soaked core.

"We have to find her Mr Stark." Vision urged as Tony sighed.

"I have been looking for days Vision." He told him. "I haven't found a single trace of Wanda or the person who broke her out."

"What about Steve?" He questioned as Tony sighed.

"He only got there a couple of days ago. I already questioned him in Siberia." Tony informed him. "He knows nothing of Wanda's whereabouts."

"I don't know what this is that I am feeling Mr Stark but my calculations tell me it's love." Vision told him. "I can feel more with each day that passes."

"I understand that Vision." Tony sighed. "I am looking everywhere."

Y/N was thrusting inside her at a steady pace, the two sharing a kiss before Y/N looked in Wanda's eyes.

"I can't wait to breed you Wanda." They husked out. "Have the family we always talked about."

"Please." Wanda begged as she scratched down their back. "I need it. I need you. All of you."

Y/N grunted as they went faster and harder. Wanda reaching her third orgasm as Y/N reached their own releasing inside of her before they brushed the hair from her face. Watching as she caught her breath.

"I love you Wanda. Forever." They whispered.

"I love you Y/N. Always." She leaned up and kissed their lips lovingly. All of their feelings coming back in full force. The two old flames back together. Burning brighter together than they were when they were apart.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #elizabeth olsen #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you

[simp-ly-writes]

Lasting Pictures: Mission: Spill (pt.9)

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: A pleasant night out carries out into the morning as Kyle helps you to address feelings left buried in the shadows of work. But soon, your greatest mission yet, the objective that you have been working toward since your reunion with the military is placed on the horizon. Knives are sharped, blood is spread like bullets, and emotions are raised to new heights- the only question left is, will you be able to overcome this all in the end?

Warnings: 5667 words, slowburn, swearing, depictions of blood, injury, PTSD and hospitals.

A/N: ... well... shit happens hahhahaha and we are almost done, lets see what happens next!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

↳ 24 Hours Until Mission “Spill”

When you woke up in the morning to the sunlight hitting your face, peeking out from between the blinds. You stretched your arms outwards and rolled over to your side, patting gently to hopefully find Garrick laying beside you. The space was still warm where he slept but was ultimately empty. 

Your head dipped before a string of curse words came whispering from the kitchen. A large smile spread across your face as you quickly threw on a sweater overtop your pajamas and made your way to the living space. Kyle stood shirtless at the stove, flipping pancakes as you greeted him with a kiss to his cheek in thanks. 

“It’s nothing love, thank you for letting me crash here with you,” he notes with a subtle blush to his cheeks, “Plate up, I’m going to give these a quick wash before joining you,” the man insists as you argue to wash them later yourself. To win the battle, he flashes you a dazzling smile that has you seated at the dining room table. 

“How did you sleep?” you ask, while wiping your mouth clean, Kyle takes a sip of his coffee, wrapping an arm over the top of your chair as he hums out contently, “Like a dream in all honesty, so much more relaxing here even when waking up to Spoons licking me in the ear.” You let out a horrified gasp, standing to go give Spoons a firm talking too before Kyle pulls you back down, “It’s alright love, truly. I took it as very cute- I like to think we have bonded well.”

Taking his plate, you load the dishwasher as you point him in the direction of your linen closet, the shower soon turns on as you feed Spoons and leave a gift basket on the table for your neighbour this evening for when they come to feed the cat dinner. Taking your turn in the shower soon after, you and Kyle head back to base before answering the long stream of text messages and missed calls from the task force throughout yesterday. 

--

As you go to open your door, Kyle's hand falls from the wheel to your knee, eyes asking you to stay a moment as you go back to seated. “Hey, before we go back to the real world again… I just want you to know that…” his eyes trail away from yours, staring off into the parking garage as you squeeze his hand, offering him a small smile- urging him to continue when your heart races. 

“...that I really enjoy spending time with you, in and out of the field. I know this is a weird place to say it but just before all the gear and armour goes back on, I feel more protected than ever when I am with you- in more ways than one and… what I guess I mean to say is that…” your eyes are gradually widening as your palms begin to sweat, you drop Kyle's hand embarrassed because of it and you watch as his small smile fades immediately, he stops speaking. 

“Kyle-I,” you start, heart beating rapidly as you search his eyes, “shit. I really like spending time with you as well,” you state while your brain short-circuits for the moment. “So I wouldn’t be wrong in saying that I really like you?” Kyle questions softly while tilting his head slightly. 

“Wow, umm! fuck-I-uh. Gods I thought you all hated me and then you say this… fuck, I really like you too Kyle” you speak quickly, your blush now carries its way down your neck and up to your ears as Kyle chuckles affectionately, only making you cover your cheeks as you lean forward, hiding your face between your knees as you shake your head when he asks to see your face again. “Love, please,” he laughs out while stroking your head. 

“I never hated you for a moment, I just was upset that the person I really liked then and now was not paying attention to me,” he states as you pop your head up once more, both of your phones are now blowing up as the team demands your attention back at work. You groan out, wanting to keep this little moment going but you both step out of the car and make your way to the boardroom. 

--

Once entering the office space, Soap pulls you into a large hug as his eyes flash over your neck, looking over to Garrick with a raised eyebrow as he shakes his head no. You roll your eyes, shoving Johnny off with a smirk, “get your head outta the gutter, Soap.” 

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” Laswell claps as you and Kyle take your seats at the table, Simon's knee touches your own as he keeps his attention directed to the screen and you feel John's eyes staring at the back of your head. “Tonight you will all be travelling by plane and jumping to location A, it is a 1km hike till the first objective that you will be scoping out from an elevated position. From there you will need to…”

The mission brief carries though as you all become tested on the various escape and exfil strategies, the targets of interest and of course, the accountants’ oligarch that you have a positive ID on. You all exit the room, folders in hand as you move towards the apartment where Gabby pulls you into your room, demanding details. 

“SO! You little, “oh, it’s not a date, we are not fucking…” and then I see that MAN- looking at you with bedroom eyes and what is everyone else supposed to think- I MEAN DID YOU SEE SOAP? He looked oddly disappointed that you and Kyle did not get up to anything when I know of your history together, you have left. Me. in. the. Dark.” Gabby rants while holding your hands as you blush, “Gabby you need to chill out, we were just hanging out and yes, maybe some feelings were regarded but that's it!” you retort as she screams. 

Simon comes rushing into the room as you stand to let him know nobody was being actively murdered as he walks back out, he throws out a comment that leaves you in silence. “You are part of our team- Kyle just gotta say it before any of us could get the chance after all that shit,” Ghost comments while picking at his gloves. You are wide-eyed, body still as Gabby loses her shit, “OKAY! I am taking that as my cue to leave, have fun before your mission bestie!” she blows you a kiss while making some explicit hand gestures that have you groaning out. 

Your room door slams behind her as you fall back onto your pillows, reaching a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. You listen as Simon and Gabby exit the apartment leaving you in a conflicting moment of silence. You debate getting up, following them towards the gym while your hand drifts to your phone, fingers hovering over your parents number as you blink away tears. 

The fuck, you think to yourself, holding up your wet hand to your eyes with a confusion  struck expression and in that moment, you don’t realise the phone to be already ringing before their bright voice echos throughout the empty apartment. “Hello hun, everything alright… I know you should be back on base by now, did something happen?” 

“mom/dad…” you comment in a small voice, you keep wiping away your tears, crushing out as you look around for a tissue box or spare shirt to wipe them away on. “Hey, hey, hey, what's the matter? Do I need to come over with the spoon and teach the other lads a thing or two over there?”

You laugh between sobs, shaking your head between your hands, “I just don’t know why the fuck im crying right now, I just- sorry for the swearing picked that up again. I just, I don’t know.” 

“Things are just a lot right now?” 

“Yeah…” you let out with a breath, now leaning against your headboard as you inspect your jeans, pulling out the random items in your pockets and observing them. “Do you… want to talk to me about it?” they ask sweetly but you can hear the concern laced in every word as they fumble around the kitchen in the background. 

“I feel so pathetic right now, I fucked up and everything okay now but I still feel guilty but I don’t know what I feel guilty about or even if its for me…” you trail off, not knowing how to continue the sentence as you stand up and begin to pace around your room. “I am a grown adult, sulking here like a baby that has a gun in their closet and is about to fly to kill someone that I have been stalking for the past three months and then in between that all I meet this group of incredible guys that… that make me feel like I can go through with this mission. Gabby consistently reminds me to choose happiness and when I think it arrives, I only get more confused and feel all the more guilty about feeling happy while this is the shit we do for a living, I should have never came back- FUCK!” 

You hear your parent drop the things around them as they speak more clearly down the phone now, “I am not going to tell you anything is wrong in you having these thoughts but what has made you think these things recently?”

“Kyle told me he likes me… and I like him back but that was after I had been an absolute degenerate- going off with my own team jealous-”

“Then why are you guilty?” your parent cuts you off in a strict tone as your shoulders cave in, feeling as if you were back at home, waiting in the corner on a small wooden chair in time-out. “Because we forgave one another too quickly?” your answer coming out more like a question as you pull the phone away to curse out some more as they tisk you on your language. 

“How could you hear me swearing?” you question, trying to move the conversation on, your head and heart overwhelmed now as you pack your bag and begin to iron your clothing that would be a wreck by the end of the mission. “I am not THAT old yet and don’t you go changing topics on me just yet, maybe you did forgive each other too quickly, maybe you didn’t but by the sounds of it. You both made that choice and look what it amounted to-”

“Wait- Gabby told you!” You grip your hair, groaning out as they laugh at you down the line once again. “I must say, I do approve of your two- stunning couple you would make.” Going beet red you cover your face with your thermal shirt just as you hear a knock on your door, “One sec!” you call out towards them as you call your byes to one another. Setting your phone on to charge you twist the handle open as John stands in the hall with a small smile. 

“All your stuff packed by the looks of it?” You mock salute towards your Captain, “Sir-yes-sir!” you report in a teasing tone as his eyes cast back down to meet your own, a smile spreading across his face as he tilts his head down towards you, now speaking in more hushed tones. “Bring your camera, will ya? Less paper work with pictures involved,” he winks before turning back down the hall humming as you watch him disappear into the kitchen. 

--

When you enter the locker rooms various teams nod towards the patches on your uniform as you pull your equipment bag towards your locker and empty out your pockets once more. You strip your shirt off, fighting yourself into your cargo pants as you snake a leather belt around your waist. You hear a whistle as you turn around with a raised eyebrow to whoever made the noise. Gabby stands fully geared in all-black, helmet leaning against her side as she smiles towards you, a few hairs sticking to her forehead as you reach out to fix them back into place. 

“Thanks,” she comments while looking you up and down, focusing on your colour full socks beginning to be hidden away by your matching black boots. “What?” you deadpan, “Nothing… just… really?” she teases out, “you bought me these, Gabs” you comment with a mocking eye roll just as she shoves you into your locker. “Alright you two,” Laswell comments, doing her best to hide a smile just as you flash her a wide one, shuffling over on the bench so that Gabby can sit beside you. 

You feel a pair of hands on your back as you stretch yourself around to face them, Kyle gives you a joking wave as you do the same with extravagant enthusiasm. He tightens the straps to your vest like usual as Gabby hands you your helmet. Locking it into place, you pat your knees and stand up, walking into line beside Simon who flicks your nose, not knowing how to respond. You look towards Gabby for help as she shrugs her shoulders and wipes down her gun. 

John helps Laswell up onto a table as she yells out into the room, “Our primary objective today is to ensure the lives of the public by removing the foreign oligarch found to be visiting us here in London. We have had the hotel cleared in preparation but if any civilians are to be found on site, relocation rooms have been highlighted on your maps. We go in, go dark, and all go home tonight- is that clear?”

The room fills with claps and cheers as a few slam their fists against the lockers. Your camera is strapped to your chest, gun glued to your hands as both words are to collide in this mission. You look up, praying to whoever was listening that all your friends would make it back to the apartment tonight. You feel a hand soon envelope your own, turning your head down you look towards the tattooed arm with a smile. “Keep that smile gorgeous, god knows we’ll need it for tonight.” You nod once just as the line moves towards the group of vehicles idling in wait. 

Simon slams the door shut as your van speeds off into the city streets, you watch as numerous young-people stand freezing waiting outside of nightclubs in shiny dresses or disheveled suits. A few food stalls have people yelling their prices down the street as a biker cuts through an intersection and horns vary into the night sky. John curses out, clutching the steering wheel as he takes a side road, already fuming about the traffic so late at night as Kyle usher's him to save that anger for later. You lean your head against Simon's shoulder as Gabby continues to look out the window beside you, gripping your hand with every breath she takes. 

--

Pulling into the underground car park, you all unload yourselves from the vehicle and load your weapons, using the elevator the first few floors, a countdown in the radio is heard as your team transitions towards the stairs. NODs fall on as your lazers point up the stairs, a hand on your shoulder signifies for you to move from the rear as the 45th floor comes into view. You all station in the hallway, listening for any moment as a muffled scream is heard from within a guest suite, another squad guides a scared-shitless civilian in their night robe out and towards the front of the hotel where police are beginning to arrive on the scene. 

Crushing underneath your breath, reports only followed a few hours later when social media begins chiming in, a clock had been set for the mission and your time was already begging halved by the hotel not actually being cleared like Laswell announced earlier. Splitting up the task force, you all made quick work of the floor before disbursing to accompany various other teams carrying out separate tasks, moving up towards the penthouse suite. “Dice to Watcher, how copy?” Laswell announces through your wires as you peek around the corner and burst into the bathroom, gun raised just before you snap a photo of leftover documents found underneath the sink, muttering a clear before switching comms. “Watcher this is Dice.”

“Fish has been compromised, there are unaccounted for enemy reinforcements heading up to your position, are you alone?” 

“Negative, Ghost is the next room over.”

“I need you to move towards him, now,” beginning to race over, Simon tips his mask to you in confusion, lowering his gun from your face. “What's happened?” he asks in a gruff tone, eyeing out the growing number of cruises below as muffled voices come through both your communications before going dead.

Your eyes widen into one another's, backing away from the window you both turn to exit into the hall just as a bullet whizzes by your head. You try for the radio to only receive static, counting out to three, you both fire down the hall, hearing grunt and a body falls before you, blood soaking into the brown carpet below your boots. Stepping over the body, you lean to inspect the fresh corpse, feeling around their uniforms you unload the hidden gun in their suit pocket and snap a picture of the tattoo on their sleeve that Simon so nicely cut their shirt open for you. 

A fresh set of boots emerge from a room beside you both as you fall to cover behind the corpse. Picking your secondary from your thigh you shoot at their leg as Simon muffles their cries in his glove and makes quick work to their neck with his knife. The body drops beside your growing pile as you both nod at one another and continue down the hall.

It is eerily silent, you had lost connection to where you team had gone, Simon was glued to your side and reportedly Fish was down. You did your best to not allow these thoughts to weigh you down, forcing yourself up several more flights of stairs. You fail to hear a Ghosts footsteps no longer walk in rhythm to your own, turning around you are pulled into a room just as you raise your elbow to slam your attacker in the face. They curse out in a foreign language to you, twisting their arm, you force the knife out of their hand- capturing it in your own as you raise to stab just below their armpit. Uncovered from the gear they wear, forcing them to the wall they drop their body weight, forcing you down to the ground with them as they pull out the knife and stab your foot. 

Kicking them in the face, you race to grab you gun and a singular shot sounds in the room, their body falling on top of yours as you lie there for a moment, listening to your breaths just before radio communications comes back on line. “Dice this is Bravo Six, where is your location?”

“57th floor, east wing,” you report back, groaning to shove the heavy body off your chest as Simon rushes over to you, mask covered in blood as you pick up a towel from a cleaning cart in the hall and wipe him clean. “We are awaiting your arrival at the penthouse, report when you are in range, over.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon radios in, taking your arm he ushers you behind him and moves to clear the stare well as you both navigate your way through the fire exit. Seeing a flash in your laser, you both nod towards a stationary team in the hall as you make your way towards the door. John nods at you, pointing at a spot across from Kyle where you stand in wait. 

A younger member from an assisting squad inspects underneath the door, reporting to John as he nods his head, glaring at the top of their head impatiently. Johnny moves in to disarm the surveillance in the room set on a separate grid through the electrical closet just as Kyle sends in a report that Shadow Company is providing long-ranged support from the opposite building's rooftop. Another lazer flashing through your NODs has all the conformation you need as you rally at the door. A countdown from three is on the Captain's fingers just as you all burst into the room. Taking the right wing you scan each corner and look over reverie hard-cover voicing over a clear just as you all move further into the suite. 

Room after room, the penthouse is deadly quiet, not a single breath or footstep to be heard as the rooms appear unlived in. Not a single cup removed from the cart or a pillow out of place. Johnny curses out, about to make a comment before bullets come flying from the wall you all are stationed on… someone knew of your operations. 

Your head racks your mind for whoever could have reported this information back in time for them to prepare and study for your team in such short notice to only come back with nothing, adrenaline pumping through your every vein- capturing your every thought. Clutching your shoulder, your foot is still sore from the bruising- no picture from the knife to be seen. Warm blood spills from between your fingertips just as you lean against a buffet-table in the hall for support. 

Kyle races over, bandages already torn out from his vest as he quickly secures the wound with ease. Voicing him a strained thanks, another series of shots are carried out as Laswell begins chirping down the radio as John so kindly asks her to, “shut up for a moment- I’m tryin’ to work too.” John catches your eyes for a split second as you raise your weapon up once again. Slamming the door open with his shoulder, Simon fires a flashbang into the room before you all rush inside. Two shots you place, one to the chest and another to the head to ensure your good work and this pattern is repeated tenfold as the seemingly dead penthouse comes alive with bodies spraying out from closets and underneath beds.

You listen as Kyle curses out in the washroom, the shower being turned out as he gets sprayed, wrapping the shower hose around their neck. You look away only hearing the stangled grunts that stop just as you allow your barrel to cool once again. A shot breaks the window behind you as you shutter and a body falls behind you, turning around you cast a thumbs up towards the Shadow as they flicker their lazer in response. 

--

Your team splits once more, the master bedroom and private living quarters now in view. Both sections are connected to one another in a loop- needing to be simultaneously cleared as you get stationed with Soap who inspects your shoulder and changes the wrap before you both move into the small sitting room. Footsteps of the separated task force echo down the halls as you both sidestep over the half-hazardly thrown chairs and broken glass shards against the floor. Apparent stress is found leading up into the kitchen as you and Johnny look to one another, holding eyes as he tilts his head- it was go time. 

Taking action into the room with guns raised you both shout out into the space, a shot rings out from beside your head as you both flip up your NODs to the light of the room. Taking that split second to blink an accented voice calls out to you, “stop or I shoot the maid.” A man in a white dress shirt, the hotel's logo embroidered into the breast pocket holds your eyes. Tears in their eyes as his hands grip the arm around their neck. In raspy tones they beg for their release, “please,” they choke as your finger stills over the trigger.

Johnny drops his gun to the counter as you keep your raised- waiting to take the shot as he tries to deescalate the situation. Hands extended, his fingerless gloves portray friendliness as he addresses the oligarch who’s grip only tightens on the handle of the pistol, pressing into the staff's head as they wince, larger tears extending from their eyes as they whisper about a mother. For a split second Johnny looks towards you and in that moment multiple shots are fired.

Head slamming into the counter behind you, you curse out before quickly looking up to see the maid grasping at themselves before crying out in relief, running out of the room and towards the other squads stationed outside the penthouse entrance. Your vision soon becomes blurry from your sudden movements, time slowing as you watch the oligarch’s yellow teeth smile at you, hand raised with another is strapped to their chest in pain. A wobbled trigger pull has you breathless and looking up into the bright white lights above. I did it… you laugh before starting to choke on your own blood. 

You are frozen, unable to panic yet Johnny does enough of that for you as his hands scramble over your body, feeling for where the shots entered and exit. Kyle, Simon, and John soon come running in from hearing the earlier screams, blood on each of their faces as horror soon accompanies it. You start to whine thanks while Johnny's face covers the light, he holds your face muttering words unheard to you as you reach a hand upwards and smile before cursing out in blinding pain as your eyes soon flutter closed only to be awakened by the shaking of your shoulders expanding your wounds. 

"fuck it hurts, it hurts so bloody much captain" you cry out to Johnny, your vision of him blurring once more as he holds your side. Soap tries not to shutter at the warm heavy liquid seeping through his fingers, staining the floors and the back of your shirt; mixing with your tears, as you choke back another sob to the throbbing pain- seeing white.

John curses lightly underneath his breath, hands slightly shaking as he looks over your half-sitting against the cupboards. Looking up, he makes sure there are no more imminent threats; he opens a pocket on his vest, pulling out his field medical kit as he shouts down the line for an immediate evac.

Hurried hands quickly kill any bacteria on the wound as you wince loudly and the captain covers your mouth with his gloved hand while looking over once more to check that you two would be uninterrupted. He yells out for the remaining task force to secure the room and pull out the oligarchs body to be bagged. 

Laughing to yourself, growing slightly delirious from the blood-loss and excruciating pain, you think that in any other setting- you would find these actions highly romantic. Smiling and shaking your head as your eyes roll at your loopy self.

John grasps your jaw firmly in his hand while holding a sterile cloth to your side with the other. "I need you awake for me love, eyes on me m'kay? eyes on me only Dice!"

Removing his hand from your face he begins to wrap a bandage around your core, trying it snuggly in position, he leans down and wipes the sweat away from your face and replacing it slightly was a smear, a blood that has him wincing. Giving your temple a kiss before placing his forehead against your own. You can feel how anxious ragged his breaths are against your skin as guilt begins to seep its way into your system. Panic soon seeping into your system as hidden thoughts flood your breaking mind, I should've done more, done fucking better, hell dice; can't even roll with the punches you take- utterly useless.

Yet you hear another set of boots rushing over to your side that has your darkening thoughts pausing momentarily as they drop their gun on the floor while reaching into a bag with a red-cross on the front. Memories float through your head at all the horror you had seen while having to use that bag, your breath catching in uneven sets, eyes stinging from no more tears left to cry.

"Shh, shh, it's okay gorgeous, we are gonna get you out of here, real quick- hold me to it" Johnny replies while taking in your state, eyes becoming wet before huffing out another request down the comms line. He moves to hold your hand, squeezing it in his own as the Captain moves so that you two can share this moment; looking out the window, eying the cityscape while waiting for Ghost and Gaz to report back at the scene with news of the vehicle, he checks his watch.

Your hand begins to scratch at the floor, as a gasp finds its way out of your mouth, trying to formulate words- you find yourself voiceless. A loud ringing now finds itself in your ears, blood running cold through your system as you realize what is happening, your legs begin to kick as you cry out into the darkening space.

Soap chokes back a sob, tears freely falling down his cheeks as he shouts out your name, beckoning you to come back down to him. John shouts down the radio once more- panic taking over his body as he walks in circles around the room. He can't bear to look at you- slipping away and not being able to do anything about it; they had used all the supplies relevant.

Your breaths begin to slow as your tears grace your cheeks once more, you feel your eyes growing all too heavy as you smell your blood coating your gear. The world turns black as a scream can be heard echoing out the building. The walls shaking and following around the men as they sit beside you- still. 

Gabby shoves her way into the scene before you, she grabs your hand, forcing it against her cheek. She pays no mind to the various calls of the Shadow Company nor Laswells orders as she places her forehead to your chest, breaths swallowed as panic begins to overtake herself at the lowering quantity of your breaths. “No, no, no” she begins to chant to herself as if begging. 

She feels nauseous as your lifetime together flashes through her mind. Elementary school days in watching shoes playing football during recess while you watched her breath a bone for the first time, shattering her ankle while going in for a  slide-tackle. Middle school, you come out as Bi and cried on the couch in happiness for letting it out, going sick from eating too much ice cream on the couch and throwing up in the toilet hours after. You held back her hair, holding back your own feelings as that memory soon blurs into your first high school house party. 

Finding you making out with Scott from maths as she snapped a picture that still sat in your diary back in your apartment with hearts and love notes swirled around like a frame. Gabby held you three weeks later when he cheated on you with the new transfer girl. She remembers you both dancing at prom with one another, your infectious laughter as you both drunkenly sung karaoke into the early morning hours during the after party. 

Months later you both would be separated during college just before you switched and went to study biology at the same campus as her. You both dropped out three months before graduating, your military careers taking off just as Gabby got engaged but never got to see the isle. You held her when a soldier announced that Elijah died while out on deployment you kept her from the edge that night… and now she sits here- guilt stricken for not being able to do the same. 

--

A relentless beeping sound as you whisper at a, “whatever that is needs to be turned off” to yourself just as a gasp can be heard and the hand holding your own falls to cover their mouth in shock. You cannot move, body stationary as they press a series of buttons and you rise to a relaxed sitting position, moving your head comes in a great deal of pain as you meet your parents eyes in surprise. Eyebrows raised, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What the fuck did I tell you about language?” They tease back before lightly hugging you, plastering a kiss against your forehead as your face goes beet red and you look around the room for an audience only to find none much to your thankfulness. A clock displays a 3:41 AM on its hands as you curse out, the medication in your system beginning to wear off just as a series of nurses comes running in a few other staff members behind they shout, bodies unseen as they lock the door closed behind them, the blinds falling as the new injection has you in peace. 

“So… how long was I out for this time?” you laugh into a cry- your brain overstimulated after being dormant for the period. “Only a week, you pulled through- I think that it was Gabby’s threats that got to you. I swear that woman could animate a corpse with the sentences she strings together,” your parents smile while brushing the hair out of your face, you murmur a thanks before sleep finds you once more. They circle the back of your hand with their thumb as you lay unknowing to the passive-aggressive conversation that is being carried out from behind your room’s door.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @ashy-kit @lilliumrorum @kaoyamamegami @brokenpieces-72

#Poly!Task Force 141 x Photographer!Reader #Poly!task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #cod x reader #cod fandom #cod fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty x reader #poly 141 #tf 141 #x reader #simp-ly-writes #simp-ly

[spearmintsmut]

My Own Mudblood 2

CW: stepbro! Draco, somnophilia, noncon/dubcon, innocence/corruption, Inappropriate use of Legilimency, implied smut

Draco’s words played over and over in your mind as you sat in your new bed. Was he threatening you or was it a challenge? You knew dinner would likely be served soon, but seeing him again before you had gathered your thoughts made you more anxious than you cared to admit. Instead, you lay your head down on the lavish pillow and slowly drifted off.

As dinner approached, Narcissa ordered Draco to fetch you to eat, which he begrudgingly obeyed. Storming up the stairs and pushing the door open without even a knock, he opened his mouth to order you down to eat, but stopped dead in his tracks. There you lay, showering in light from the setting sun streaming through the bay window. Your hair sprawled around your head like a halo and skirt bunched up at the top of your thighs. He wanted to wake you up with a rude remark, or leave you there without dinner but he couldn’t move. For a long moment, knowing no one would see his guard down, he took in your beauty - though he wouldn’t dare admit it to himself. He couldn’t help but to stare, wondering what you were dreaming about. Then his eyes trailed down your chest, softly rising and falling, to your naked thighs, and he felt a familiar throbbing against his tight dress pants. Without thinking, he stepped in, closing the door behind him and softly palming himself through his pants. He battled himself internally, trying to justify him touching himself to a mudblood, but his thoughts quickly fogged with pleasure.

Before he was able to talk himself out of it, he inched closer to you, groaning softly as he continued to palm himself. His eyes squeezed closed and he tried to slow his shaky breath, as to not wake you. He stood up against the edge of your bed and kept palming himself, letting himself het carried away, against his better judgement, but as he let out another quiet groan, you were suddenly pulled out of sleep. You let out a squeal, which came out as more of a tired squeak when you saw the tall boy standing beside your bed. He threw his hand over your mouth to quieten you, and you started to panic.

“Shhh. Don’t..Don’t yell.” he paused, trying to gather himself and pull his shirt over the bulge that had grown in his pants. “It’s dinner,” he continued, still breathing heavily. “Eat or don’t. I don’t care but it’s ready.”

You looked up at him dazed, his last words earlier coming back to you quickly. Remembering the way he warned you about your clothing, you became very aware of your skirt ridden up and pulled it back down to cover some of your thighs.

“I’ll, I’ll eat,” you stammered, wondering how long he had stood there before you woke up, and what,,,what was the noise that woke you? You tried to brush it off, sliding down the oversized bed away from him, and to your feet. He towered over you, and you couldn’t help feeling dwarfed by him. You could tell he was thinking about something as he stared at you, possibly holding something back, but his cool demeanour and stern face never gave anything away.

As you entered the large dining room of the manor, it took you a moment to take it all in. The table was large enough for 20 people, though it would only be the four of you eating. It felt strange, and rather lonely, after eating at a small table in your apartment with just your mother for so long. The house elf, who still had no name, floated large silver plates of food to the table, lit candles floating above it. Though it was all very beautiful, you still felt resentment toward your new “family” for their wealth, and for the values that Draco had made you all too aware of.

Narcissa urged you to sit, and to your disappointment, Draco sat directly across from you. You tapped your foot under the table, avoiding eye contact with him. As the four of you started to eat, Narcissa began trying to get to know you better than your father had told her about, only frustrating you more. You still didn’t trust that she had fully divorced her ideas of blood purity after the war, and entertaining the conversation now living with her made you all the more nervous.

“What do you know about the wizarding world, dear? Didn’t you ever get a letter from hogwarts?” she pressed. You balled your fists under the table, digging your nails into your palms as you thought of a calm answer.

“Well,” you breathed another shaky breath “Father had told me when I was young that I was special, when…things would happen without my meaning to, but my mother never allowed me to go to Hogwarts for her own reasons. I guess she was worried about me. I never really learned how to use my magic.” you finally looked up at her to gauge her reaction. Her mouth was pressed together into an awkward smile and you could tell what she was thinking is not what she would say. You felt a pang in your chest, thinking of the years and memories at Hogwarts you missed out on, and what your life would look like if you had been allowed to go.

“Father gave me some books when he decided to bring me..here,” you continued, “But I haven’t had a chance to read much of them yet.”

“Well dear, you certainly have missed out on quite a lot,” She replied after what felt like an eternity of silence. “Draco,” she started, looking over at him but he cut her off instantly.

“No. No don’t even try an-” he started..

“Son I don’t want to hear it,” She looked back at you, ignoring his look of protest. “I’ll have Draco start to tutor you. Try and get you…up to speed,” she said, without leaving any option to protest. Your Father, choosing this moment to finally acknowledge you, perked up.

“That sounds perfect! Be polite and thank them,” he pushed.

You gritted your teeth. Though you definitely could use the help, being tutored by the one person who seemed to hate you most felt like a trap. “Thank you Narcissa,” you said, half meaning it. She nodded toward her son beside her, and you finally looked up and him. His grey eyes pierced through yours and you felt like he was seeing straight through you.

“Th..Thank you, I guess,” you mumbled shyly. Though he angered you to near violence, you couldn’t help but feel meek, looking at him. He begrudgingly nodded, rolling his eyes, before they landed back on yours, holding for a moment longer than you expected.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” his velvet voice breaking the moment’s silence surprised you. Your mind raced, thinking about being taught, one on one by Draco Malfoy, and what that might involve. You knew he was a death eater in the recent past - and a very prolific one at that, and though it made you nervous, you weren’t scared. You were almost excited. You imagined him using his wand to cast spells you were yet to learn - his large, ring clad hand wrapping around his wand…then your own hand, or your throat. You caught yourself daydreaming and internally scolded yourself. What were you doing?

That’s Draco fucking Malfoy you yelled at yourself mentally. And he’s your goddamn step-brother! You shifted in your seat, both in embarrassment and arousal. You stole a quick glance up at him, and to your shock, for the first time since you had met him, he wasn’t brooding. His mouth was curled up on one side into an amused grin. You dropped your gaze back down to your plate. Could he know? You wondered. That’s ridiculous. How could he know?, you reasoned with yourself. You tried to focus on something; anything but the images your mind had flashed before you but you kept finding yourself back in those thoughts.

You had never slept with anyone, and for lack of better words, you knew you were quite inexperienced in that regard. Innocent even - But the thought of his long fingers in your mouth, or in your increasingly heating core made you squirm in your seat. The conversation your father and Narcissa were having sounded like a muffled blur in the background of your thoughts. You wondered what he would look like under his tailored black shirt - If he would have scars from the war, or if somehow, he had healed them away. Your cheeks burned at the thought, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your pleated skirt. Finally, dinner came to an end and you were able to excuse yourself. You rushed upstairs, still feeling an ache between your legs. You decided to unpack your trunk to distract yourself from the perverted thoughts. You pulled your clothes out one by one, putting them on hangers when you heard a low, raspy chuckle at the door. You swung around to find Draco leaning on the door frame with a smug look on his face.

“What?!” you snapped at him and he shook his head, still laughing

“You mudbloods make things so bloody difficult,” he chuckled before waving his wand casting a silent spell, and each item of clothing flew into the closet on hangers. Your eyes narrowed at him.

“I didn’t need your help, asshole,” you scowled, embarrassed more than you were angry.

“Fucking brat you are,” he stepped closer to you without wiping the smug look off his face. “I know you want my help. You need my help. You made that more than obvious at dinner,” he snickered. Though you didn’t want to believe he somehow read your mind earlier, the blood drained from your face and you stepped back.

“Don’t worry, mudblood - I’ll teach you about that too in our little lessons.” He was now inches from you, leaning down to your height, demeaningly. He smelled of peppermint and some sort of whiskey, and it was almost impossible to remain angry when you could feel his breath on your neck and his heady scent filled you. You did everything you could to fight the unwanted thoughts of your new step-brother from your mind, and though you didn’t want him to leave, you shoved his hard chest away tried to order him out. You pushed and pushed on his hard chest, but he didn’t move an inch. Your cheeks heated up, not wanting to give in to the thoughts creeping back at the touch.

“Poor weak thing. Use your manners and I’ll leave,” he cooed, condescendingly.

You gritted your teeth, not wanting to obey, but knowing it was the only way.

“Fine,” you huffed. “Please Draco, will you get out of my room,” you flashed a sarcastically sweet smile.

“Good girl,” he rumbled and walked out, leaving his intoxicating scent lingering in the room behind him.

#draco smut #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy smut #stepcest draco #draco fic #stepbro!Draco #hp fic #hp smut #stepbro #draco oneshot

[queenlucythevaliant]

harder than you think

i. When the Narnians stole Edmund away from beneath the Witch's blade, they told him he was safe. This wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

ii. They brought him to the Stone Table. It was night. Edmund doubted very much that he would find safety there, for he still recoiled at the name of Aslan. He slept fitfully and woke the next morning before the sun was up.

iii. A sliver of gold just beyond the tent flap captured his attention, there in the dark. Unaccountably, Edmund felt the urge to rise and go towards it.

iv. And there was Aslan, who was supposed to be fearsome, supposed to be dangerous, supposed to be powerful, and he was he was he was. Dimly, Edmund felt himself hitting the ground.

v. But then Aslan said, “Come, Son of Adam. Let us walk a while, and reason together.”

vi. And as they walked together, in the cool dewy grass of early morning, the Lion told Edmund everything that he had ever done.

vii. They were standing in front of the Table when the conversation turned. Aslan spoke a riddle of a house blasted into rubble which he would piece back together overnight. He spoke of flesh being pierced, blood being shed, and of rejected stones being used for new foundations. He spoke about water welling up forever, washing you clean of everything you ever did wrong, all the blood that you ever thought of shedding, everything you ever tried to steal, and a river that carries you home when you can't walk anymore and spits you out brand new when it reaches the sea.

viii. Edmund's head swam. Silently, he yearned for the wisdom to understand what he was being told; or, failing that, at least to remember it for as long as it took him to puzzle it out.

ix. And then, the Witch. Then, the battle. The thrones. A year passed, and winter came. In its time, it melted back to glorious spring.

x. “Edmund,” said Lucy one day. “There's something we need to tell you.” She and Susan were cloaked in springtime gossamer, like fairy queens in poems he only half remembered. They sat on the window seat in his study, holding hands white-knuckled: his two beloved sisters.

xi. “It's about Aslan,” Susan said. “And the White Witch, and how he made her renounce her claim on your blood. The night before Beruna, he went back to the Stone Table.”

xii. “He let her kill him,” Lucy cut in. “Instead of you. And then, because he hadn't done anything wrong, the Emperor's Deeper Magic brought him back to life.”

xiii. “We've been arguing all year about how much to tell you,” said Susan wryly. Then, a little gentler, “We don't want to hurt you, but we feel you ought to be told what he did for you.”

xiv. And Edmund, who had never forgotten what Aslan told him on that cool, dewy morning before the sun came up, shut his eyes and whispered, “I know.”

xv. I know, he said. I know that he died. I know that he did it for me. I know he lived again because I saw him the next day, and the next, and the next. I think I know what it means - or at least, I know the shape of it.

xvi. “Oh,” said Lucy. “We should have realized that he would have told you himself.”

xvii. “Yes. But please, tell me the story all the same.”

#finally returning to this little character study series thing #I really like this one #bc Edmund pretty clearly knows about Aslan's sacrifice in later books but as of the end of lww the girls are still debating #what if anything he should be told #and like. imo that was what the early morning talk was #the gospel presented in that Jesus-y way where he's like 'this is all gonna make sense to you in a little bit once it gets fulfilled' #in addition to some of the more specific stuff about Edmund's specific sin probably #in my head the closest parallel for that conversation would end up being the magician's book with lucy #anyway #this whole series is being posted together on ao3 just so you know #narnia #the traitor who mended #reading fairy tales again #pontifications and creations #leah stories

[its-weeping]

The reader pretends she lost her memories so Scaramouche doesn't kill her, only for him to lie and say they're married. (Enemies to lovers trope!)

that's such a cute prompt!! i honestly love enemies to lovers. the sexual tension and the obliviousness of their feelings for one another is just 🤭 plus if they're actual enemies it's much better.

• · ━━┅━━━┅━━━┅━━━┅━ • ✦ • ━┅━━━┅━━━┅━━━┅━━ · •

i. 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 ! ‧ ₊˚ 𖧷

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓

summary: you're playing pretend, but scaramouche isn't.

warnings: none

pairing: fatui!scaramouche x reader

notes: someone please lie to me and say we're married ☹️ the way i wrote this sounds goofy but i'm too lazy to make any changes rn, also it's short!

"we're married?"

"yes."

okay... weird. you think, rubbing your wrists to lessen the rope burn.

a little context, your enemy scaramouche captured you when you fell unconscious in the middle of a battle with him.

you woke up tied and bloodied in a dark room, terrified for you knew what events would follow. by the time scaramouche emerged from the darkness you thought of an escape plan.

although, the only idea that came to mind was amnesia. with much hesitation, you went with it.

forgetting who you were seemed to work as scaramouche recoiled when seeing your perplexed expression.

"hello?" was the first thing you said, "w-who are you? why am i tied up?" perhaps your acting was better than you initially thought because scaramouche bought your lie.

"has your brain gone numb from just using so little of it? what's wrong with you?"

you resisted the urge to spit out an insult. your enemy appeared reluctant, treading lightly on his words.

"w-what? i don't know what you're talking about... sorry.."

the apology baffled scaramouche—you wanted to laugh at his face, but kept the charade going. after much confirmation of you 'losing' your memories, he began untying you.

freedom looked to be close until, "i don't know how much you've forgotten, but just in case it's a vast amount, we're married."

"we're married?" the words escaped your throat before you could even process the information.

"yes."

in all honesty, scaramouche's blunt response could've made you believe you were married to him if you had lost your memories. but since you hadn't, it just puzzled you.

with that confidence i could've been fooled if i didn't know any better. why would he lie about us being married? there wouldn't be any reason unless..

you stiffen, he doesn't. he doesn't... does he?!

© its-weeping — do not plagiarize or translate.

#genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scara #scaramouche #x reader #genshin impact #fatui scaramouche #fatui harbingers #fanfiction #fanfic #enemies to lovers

[eksvaized]

Part One [ Previous 〡 Next ]

“Stop. Moving.” Ghost commanded, his voice low, gruff, and demanding. Each syllable dripped with an authority that was hard to ignore.

“But I can’t get comfortable,” you protested, your voice softer, almost meek in comparison. You shifted again, trying to find a suitable position in his lap.

“I don’t care. Just stop,” Ghost continued, his voice maintaining that low, stern tone that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. His warm breath brushed against your sensitive skin, sending a cascade of shivers tumbling down your spine each time he exhaled. Despite his simple orders, you couldn’t stop sliding down his legs. Your dress kept creeping up your thighs, revealing the delicate flesh beneath with each involuntary move.

If you’d been facing Ghost, you’d have glimpsed the shadows of desire darkening his gaze, a silent thunderstorm brewing as his eyes traced the contours of your legs. You would have caught him in a stolen moment, picturing what it would be like to bury his face in between your thighs, to taste you, to feel you writhing beneath him. His fingers twitched, longing to touch you, to feel your skin beneath his. He wished he could make you squirm and hear your moans—he wished he could tease and torment you the way you teased him.

However, the only problem was that you were not doing it intentionally. At least, that’s what he assumed. After all, you were his friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yet, you were his guilty pleasure, a forbidden fruit he couldn’t taste. You were the last thought that crossed his mind before he surrendered to sleep and the first one that greeted him when he woke up. Of course, he would never admit these feelings aloud, as if their utterance would shatter the fragile facade he had constructed. And he would certainly never confess any of this to you. Chasing girls and being in a relationship were not his top priorities; he had other more important things to focus on. He didn’t want to be tied down by commitments. But it didn’t stop him from fantasising about what it would be like to have you for just one night. To see you with your hands bound above your head, laying in his bed, begging him to touch you.

After all, he was only a man. A man with primal desires and urges that demanded to be satisfied. But he was also your lieutenant, your superior. Plus, there was the fact that you were significantly younger than him. So, despite the magnetic pull that you unknowingly exerted, an unseen force that drew him towards you like a moth to a flame, he had made a solemn vow to himself. He would never lose control, he would never give in...

As the vehicle jolted around another sharp turn, a grunt of dissatisfaction escaped your lips. This was the umpteenth time you had to readjust your position: an inconvenience you honestly could do without. Especially since you were growing increasingly aware of the prickling tension. Carefully, you hoisted yourself up, tugging your dress back down, which had rebelliously hitched up, revealing more than intended.

Ghost, on the other hand, was locked in a silent battle of his own. His eyes clenched shut like a fortress under siege. He took in a deep, measured breath as if diving into an ocean of calm, striving to divert his attention from the growing heat in his body. The dangerously close proximity to you was playing a tantalizing game with his self-control.

“Stop moving, Y/N,” Ghost found himself repeating the same phrase he had been uttering for the past quarter of an hour. He had initially attempted to keep his hands to himself, but your constant movement and readjustments made that task increasingly difficult. Now, you could feel his palms subtly creeping up your sides until they found a resting spot at your waist. His fingers dug into your flesh, providing a sense of stability amid the chaotic drive.

“I can’t. I keep slipping,” you sighed in response, the frustration apparent in your tone. His hands, however, remained steadfast on your waist, anchoring you in his lap.

The day had started off on a rather laid back note. With a day free from duty, your team had decided to make the most of it by heading out for some drinks. It was a welcome change, a chance to let loose before the seriousness of the next mission took over. The journey to the pub was divided between two cars. Soap and Gaz were entrusted to stay sober and ensure everyone made it back safely. But Gaz had broken that promise, leaving everyone to squeeze into one car on the way back to the base.

The lack of sufficient seating meant that you, being the smallest (though you vehemently argued that it was unjust criteria), ended up in Ghost’s lap. You hadn’t anticipated it to be a significant issue. But with his continuous complaints ringing in your ear, you couldn’t help but wish you had opted to walk back instead.

As the drive wore on, Ghost’s fingers, like a sculptor’s chisel on marble, etched deeper into your waist, creating a discomfort that was becoming difficult to ignore. To ease it, you placed your hands on his wrists and attempted to gently tug at them, hoping to soften his grip. Despite your attempts, though, he resisted, maintaining his firm hold on you.

With little option left, you slumped back, surrendering to the pull of gravity. Your body to nestled comfortably into Ghost’s chest. Your head rested on his broad shoulders, providing a sense of comfort as the vehicle continued to traverse the gravel roads. Approximately fifteen minutes remained before you would reach the base.

Ghost, seemingly perplexed by your actions, turned to face you. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice echoing through the confined space. In response, you tilted your head slightly as well, allowing your eyes to meet his. However, your gaze soon drifted downwards, towards his mask, as you found yourself unable to maintain the eye contact.

“Getting comfortable,” you replied, your voice just a whisper. The tendrils of fatigue began to curl around you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, each blink growing heavier and heavier.

The car fell silent.

As you sat there, embraced by Ghost’s arms, you could feel his breath on your neck. The steady, rhythmic rise, and fall of his chest acted as a soothing lullaby, luring you towards the edge of sleep. You knew you should have fought to stay awake, but his body radiated warmth, providing a stark contrast to the exhaustion that had washed over you from the evening’s festivities of dancing and drinking. Before you knew it, you had drifted off, your nose nuzzled into the crook of Ghost’s neck.

Caught up in his own thoughts, he didn’t immediately realise that you had succumbed to sleep. It wasn’t until the car came to a gentle halt that he felt something moist against the side of his mask. You had drooled all over him. A groan of disbelief rumbled in his chest as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Y/N... Y/N.. wake up.” His voice was quiet, a softness that was uncharacteristic of him. He contemplated grabbing your shoulders and shaking you awake, but decided against it, knowing that you were not one to take kindly to abrupt awakenings. Instead, he allowed you to continue sleeping for a bit longer, listening as you muttered incoherently to yourself, your eyes tightly shut.

Emerging from the clutches of sleep was like wading through a sea of molasses, slow and laborious. But eventually, both of you managed to exit the car. By this time, the rest of the team had already scattered, leaving just the two of you.

You rubbed your face, coaxing the tiredness out of your muscles like wringing out a wet cloth, and yawned. Your weary eyes swept over the barren expanse of the parking lot.

“You drooled on me,” Ghost said, his gaze steady on you. Caught off guard, you raised your brows but chose to remain silent in a futile attempt to maintain your cool demeanor. However, your face betrayed you as it started to radiate heat and your cheeks blossomed with a rosy blush, turning a bright shade of pink. This unexpected display of embarrassment stood in stark contrast to your usual composed self.

In the midst of the awkward silence, Ghost reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. With a swift motion, he lifted his balaclava, unveiling his lips, which soon held the cigarette with an ease born of habit. Despite being a non-smoker, you found yourself captivated by the sight of him lighting up his cigarette and drawing a deep inhale. Something about it sparked a desire within you, a curiosity you hadn’t felt before.

Feeling audacious, you stepped forward and asked, “Can I have one?” Your head tilted to the side. A hint of anticipation twinkled in your eyes. Ghost, however, shook his head in denial, causing a childish pout to adorn your face.

“You can’t. You don’t smoke.” Ghost’s words were matter-of-fact. A dash of amusement was evident in his tone. You responded with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, scoffing at his statement that merely reiterated the obvious.

You took a single, decisive step closer to him, deliberately narrowing the gap that had been lingering between you two. A flutter of hesitation clouded your actions for a moment, but the alluring, intoxicating scent of smoke wafting in the air coaxed you into action. You reached out, your fingers outstretched to snatch the still-burning cigarette from his grasp after he exhaled a stream of smoke into the night air. Ghost, for his part, didn’t utter a word. He simply stood there, his gaze on you. You mimicked his earlier actions, took a few measured drags from the cigarette before placing it back between his lips, all the while not moving an inch away and keeping your eyes fixed on him.

Ghost’s eyebrows arched in surprise, an obvious attempt to hide the smile that was slowly beginning to creep onto his face. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in a casual, almost dismissive manner. “First, you blatantly ignore me when I tell you to stop moving. Then you have the audacity to fall asleep and drool on me. And now, you dare to steal my cigarette,” he stated, the tone of his voice teetering between amusement and disbelief.

You shrugged, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards in a subtle hint of a sly smile. “Don’t act like you mind.”

And the truth was, he didn’t mind. In fact, he loved it, the way a parched wanderer would love a drop of water in the desert. Your unapologetic authenticity intrigued him. It challenged him, made him question the vows he had made to himself daily. Perhaps you were worth the risk, a gamble he was willing to play, a game he was willing to lose.

Buried deep within him, like a secret locked away in a forgotten chest, he knew without a shred of doubt that if you ever decided to see more than just a friend in him, he would have willingly surrendered to you. But now, despite the longing that gnawed at him, like a wolf tearing at its prey, he held back, resolved to protect you from himself, not daring to taint your innocence with his touch.

Ohhh... If only he had known that you harbored the same feelings deep within your heart - that you yearned for his touch, his eyes on you, that his presence was an unyielding constant in your thoughts, driving you to the brink of insanity - perhaps the night would have unfolded differently.

But neither of you had the courage to confess. Neither of you took that daunting first step, instead choosing to pretend that you were indifferent - each of you acting as if you desired nothing more in life than to remain friends... Friends that flirted, stole sneaky looks, and couldn’t get each other out of their minds.

Nothing more, nothing less. Just friends, like two stars in the night sky, forever close yet galaxies apart.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #writing #ghost x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #fem!reader #ao3 fanfic #justfriends

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Our 141 boys, Konig and Los Vaqueros with a so who likes to mercilessly tease them all the time. She's a minx, proud of it and she loves seeing her man loose his stoicism whenever she's up to her shenanigans. Thanksies 😁

Say yes to me

Task force 141 (+ König & Los Vaqueros) x Reader

YES. I‘VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR A WHILE NOW AND LET ME TELL YOU… I HAVEN’T BEEN THE SAME EVER SINCE. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING ME THIS😭😭🫶🏽

KÖNIG

König exuded an aura of power and authority. His every move was calculated and precise, leaving no room for any mistakes. However, there was something about you that sparked a mischievous fire within. You couldn't help but take pleasure in teasing him and pushing his boundaries if only for a moment. Because today you woke up and chose violance.

"Ah, König," you purred, sidling up to him, your voice dripping with seduction. "You know, I can't resist the urge to play with fire. And you, my dear, are the most sexiest flame I‘ve ever laid my eyes on."

His gaze flickered towards you, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity dancing in his eyes. You could see the battle within him, torn between maintaining his composure and succumbing to the allure of your teasing. Oh how you loved to test his limits. Especially because you know how easily he gets shy.

You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "Tell me, darling, does it make you feel alive when I unravel your control? When I peel away those layers of proud until there's nothing left but desire?"

A barely perceptible shudder coursed through his body, his defenses weakening under your seducing influence. You reveled in the power you held over him, relishing every moment of his unraveling.

"Damn you, liebling" he growled, his voice laced with equal parts frustration and desire. "You take pleasure in torturing me, don't you?"

A wicked smile graced your lips as you pressed yourself against him, feeling the heat emanating from his body. "Oh baby, torturing you is a pastime I indulge in with great delight. After all, it's when you lose control that I find you truly exciting."

Your words hung in the air, charged with an electric tension. You watched as he struggled to maintain his composure, his hands twitching by his sides, desperate to touch you but resisting the urge. The battle between his desire and self-restraint played out before you. You can see him struggling.

But you were not one to let the game end so quickly. With a grin, you trailed a finger along his covered jawline, relishing the way his breath hitched at your touch. "Tell me, my love, how badly do you want me? How far are you willing to go to sate this burning hunger that consumes us both?"

König's resolve finally crumbled, his ironclad control slipping away. With a fierce determination he pulled you into his embrace, his lips claiming yours with a passion that ignited the very core of your being. In that moment you felt like nothing mattered anymore.

As the world around you faded into insignificance, consumed by the fire of your desires, you reveled in the knowledge that you, and only you, had the power to unravel the unshakable König.

No mission or obstacle could ever compare to the intoxicating game of desire you played with König. Two souls forever entwined in a dance of passion, power and a never ending affection.

Simon Riley

From the moment you laid eyes on Simon, you knew he was a man who craved control, both on and off the battlefield. His perfectly tailored suit, darkened mask, and piercing eyes exuded an air of mystery and command. But oh, how you loved to unravel him just to see that stoicism falter and his walls crumble under your relentless teasing.

You reveled in the power you held over him. Whenever you were near, mischief danced in your eyes, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

As the two of you found yourselves alone in the dimly lit safehouse, you couldn't resist the opportunity to test the limits of his control. You sauntered over, your steps deliberately slow and seductive, making sure every movement drew his attention. Your fingertips brushed against his arm, a light touch that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you.

"Hey there, handsome," you purred, your voice laced with a teasing tone. "Have I ever told you how much I enjoy seeing you hold things so tightly? Reminds me of some things…"

Simon's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he fought to maintain his composure. "You know what you’re doing to me, don't you?" he growled, his voice heavy with desire and frustration. "You're a temptress, a very needy woman and you take delight in making me lose control."

You feigned innocence, tilting your head to the side and batting your eyelashes innocently. "Me? A temptress and needy? Well, I suppose I can't help it if I bring out the best in you, darling."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, his voice a barley a whisper. "Oh, you have no idea what you do to me. The way you tease, the way you challenge me…it's exhilarating and infuriating all at once. Luckily we can go home sooner than planned. Because I am almost done here."

A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you closed the remaining distance between you, your lips barely brushing against his ear as you whispered, "But that's the best part, my dear. Watching you, get nervous whenever I touch you in a different way. It's intoxicating."

Simon's grip tightened on your waist, his eyes darkening with raw desire. His voice was a low growl as he admitted defeat, surrendering to the power you held over him. "You win, you always do. But know this, my love, I wouldn't have it any other way. Now focus because I wanna ride home as soon as I can."

A triumphant smile curved your lips as you pressed a soft kiss against his jawline. "Oh Simon, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. But don't worry, I promise it'll be the most thrilling ride of your life."

“Fuck, love. Stop saying stuff like that because I am really holding back from bending you over this table right now” he growls and smile at him innocently. You slowly let your hand walk down his pants and let it sit there for a few seconds.

“Very professional.” you whisper and walk away from him, leaving him unfocused and hard.

John MacTavish

As John settled onto the bed, you couldn't help but smirk mischievously, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. The dimly lit room created an intimate ambiance, heightening the allure of your playful banter. John's strong, impassive had always intrigued you but it was your knack for merciless teasing that brought out the vulnerability in him, a side reserved only for you.

Sitting beside him, you leaned back, your fingertips tracing invisible patterns on the sheets. You directed your gaze at John, your eyes brimming with something evil. With a knowing grin, you tilted your head slightly, your voice filled with tantalizing allure.

"So, how's that heart of steel holding up today? I must say, it's quite entertaining to watch you get nervous around me."

John's brows furrowed ever so slightly, his piercing gaze meeting yours. The corners of his lips twitched, betraying the hint of a smile. He couldn't resist your playful taunts and you reveled in the power it gave you over him.

"You," he replied, his voice deep and gravelly, "Are a dangerous creature that takes pleasure in seeing me lose all my senses."

You chuckled softly, a seductive melody that danced through the air. Closing the distance between you, your thigh brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. The heat between you grew palpable, crackling with an undeniable tension.

With a flick of your hair and a sultry gaze, you leaned closer, your lips grazing his earlobe. "But admit it baby, you love every moment of it. You secretly crave the way I toy with your emotions, unraveling the seemingly impenetrable fortress around your heart."

John's breath hitched, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed hard. You could see the fire in his eyes, a reflection of the desire that burned within him. But he remained resolute, determined to maintain his composure, even as you tested the limits of his selfcontrol.

Your fingertips danced along his jawline, tracing the rough contours with gentle strokes. "You know," you whispered, your voice laced with velvet, "there's something undeniably exhilarating about watching the mighty John MacTavish succumb to my wiles."

A low rumble resonated from deep within John's chest, a mixture of frustration and longing. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out to grasp throat, making sure to show you what you’re doing to him. His touch was warm and soft, not meaning to hurt you in a harmful way.

"Believe me, I wouldn't have it any other way," John confessed, his voice husky with desire. "For you, I would willingly relinquish all control, just to witness that spark ignite in your eyes."

You grinned, your eyes shimmering with satisfaction. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you entangled in an emotional state of desire, lust and affection.

John Price

John leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the computer screen as he scanned through mission reports. The silence was broken only by the tapping of the keyboard.

Across the room, you lounged in your own chair. You loved teasing John, pushing his boundaries and seeing him break his manners.

With a smile, you leaned forward, resting your chin on your palm and watched as he furrowed his brow, clearly engrossed in his work. You couldn't resist the urge to provoke him. Clearing your throat, you let out a low and seductive voice.

"You" your voice dripping with playful mischief, "seem awfully serious today, John. Maybe you need a little distraction?"

John's eyes flicked up from the screen, meeting your gaze. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but he maintained his composure. "I'm in the middle of something important, love. Maybe later."

You let out a soft chuckle, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your legs, deliberately drawing his attention to your playful display. You reveled in the power you had over him, the way he couldn't help but steal glances in your direction.

"Oh, I see," you responded while biting your lower lip. Your voice laced with disappointment. "Too busy saving the world to enjoy a little company, huh? Well, maybe I'll just have to entertain myself then."

As you spoke, you began to slowly run a finger along the edge of your exposed thigh, deliberately tracing the path along your skin. You watched as John's jaw tightened ever so slightly, a subtle sign that your little game was starting to have an effect.

Unable to resist, he finally tore his gaze away from the computer screen, his eyes fixated on your movements. The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension as you locked eyes, both of you acutely aware of the electricity between you.

"You're playing with fire, love," John warned, his voice husky with a mixture of desire and restraint. "You know what happens when you tease me like this."

Your lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Oh, I know exactly what happens." your voice dropping to a low whisper. "But I also know how much you love it when I push your buttons."

With that, you slowly rose from your chair, the silence in the room now heavy with anticipation. John's eyes followed your every movement, a mixture of desire and frustration evident in his gaze. The tension between you was unbelievable as you slowly made your way towards him, your fingers gently tracing a path along his jawline.

"And what happens," you whispered, your voice barely audible "when you say yes to me?"

John lets a low growl escaping his lips as he pulled you closer, his hands gripping your waist. "You’re gonna find out now"

The work didn’t matter anymore because in that moment he slowly bends you over his table and he gets on both of his knees while his face is dangerously close to your heating clit.

Kyle Garrick

"You," you began your sentence "have the most adorable scowl when you're deep in thought, Kyle."

He glanced at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You find my scowls adorable now? I thought you were here to tease me mercilessly."

A playful grin spread across your face as you leaned closer, tracing a finger along the edge of his jawline. "Oh I am. But teasing you is so much more fun when I get to see you loose yourself. Even if it's just for a moment."

He let out a soft chuckle, his eyes glimmering with a mixture of amusement and affection. "I should have known I couldn't hide anything from you."

You shrugged, your fingers now trailing lazily down his neck. "It's not my fault you wear your emotions on your sleeve when I'm around. Besides, it's one of the things I love about you."

Kyle's expression softened, his hand reaching out to gently grasp yours. "And I love that cute sparkle in your eyes and the way you challenge me. Always keeping me on my toes."

A devilish smirk played on your lips as you tilted your head, your voice dripping with playful taunting. "Well, I can't help it if I enjoy watching you go weak, my dear. Especially when you’re under me…"

He leaned in closer, his voice barely a whisper. "Is that so? Well, let's see how you handle it when the tables are turned."

Before you could react, Kyle swiftly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You gasped in surprise, feeling a rush of heat spreading through your body as his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck.

Your breath hitched, and you fought to maintain your composure. "Touché, Kyle," you managed to utter, your voice laced with a mix of desire and determination. "But don't think this means I'm going to surrender so easily."

He chuckled against your skin, his hands sliding up your sides in a tantalizingly slow manner. "Yeah let’s see, my lady."

Alejandro

The sun shone brightly on the expansive garden as you lounged by the pool, basking in the warm embrace of a lazy summer afternoon. Alejandro, your way too hot boyfriend, joined you, his chiseled form gliding through the water. As he emerged, droplets cascading off his toned body, you couldn't resist but to unleash your nature upon him.

With a playful smirk on your lips, you eyed Alejandro intently. Your gaze lingered on the way his wet hair clung to his forehead, accentuating the sharp angles of his face. Your heart fluttered at the sight, fueling your determination to tease him relentlessly.

"Alejandro, Alejandro. If only you knew what you got yourself into"

His brows furrowed, but in a good way. He knew all too well what you were telling him with that devilish persona. It was your desire speaking and he knew it.

As you rose from your seat, the pool's edge became your stage. Your every movement exuded confidence and allure as you swayed your hips, the delicate fabric of your bikini accentuating your curves. Alejandro's gaze followed your every motion, a mixture of love, lust and fascination in his eyes.

"The woman you are, mi amora," he said, a trace of admiration lacing his words. "Si supieras lo que me gustaría hacerte, mi amora."

You chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, Alejandro… I think you forgot that I don’t understand spanish. But I love you talking to me in spanish."

Alejandro's attention was fixated on you, his gaze tracing the lines of your body. Slowly, you descended into the water, allowing the cool embrace to envelop you. The playful splashes that followed were deliberate, intended to draw Alejandro closer.

As he approached, you moved with the grace of a siren, closing the distance between you. Water droplets clung to your skin, glistening like tiny diamonds and you reveled in the effect it had on him. Alejandro's touch was firm yet gentle as he pulled you close, the warmth of his body electrifying against your own.

"I didn’t even start and you’re already weak" you whispered, your lips grazing his earlobe. The tingling sensation it elicited sent shivers down his spine.

"Es tu apariencia. Cariño, ¿cómo se supone que no voy a estar nervioso cuando me miras así?" he whispers something in spanish which you will never understand. But your smirk grew wide as you let your hands go down into the water…

(MY SPANISH IS DEFINITELY NOT GOOD SO PLEASE DON‘T JUDGE. LOVE YAAA)

Rudy

You lay in bed, the soft sheets enveloping your body as you watch Rudy, lying beside you. A playful grin dances across your lips as you plan your next move. You love teasing him, seeing his composure crumble under your charm.

"You are far too serious for your own good." Your fingers trace delicate patterns on his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. The rise and fall of his breath betrays his calm exterior, and you revel in the knowledge that you have the power to rattle him.

Rudy's eyebrows furrow slightly, his eyes fixed on your face as he tries to maintain his unflappable facade. But you know him better than that. You know the effect you have on him. Your playful antics never fail to get a reaction.

Leaning closer, your lips brush against his ear, your breath warm and tantalizing. "Tell me, Rudy…" you whisper, the timbre of your voice causing a shiver to run down his spine, "how long do you think you can keep up this tough guy act?"

His jaw tightens, his control waning as your words weave their way through his defenses. You relish in the power dynamics between you, loving the way he fights to keep his emotions in check, even as desire flickers in his eyes.

Your fingertips trail down his chest, tracing the lines of his defined muscles. You feel his body react, betraying the effect your teasing has on him. But you're not finished. Yet.

With a smirk, you lean back, your gaze filled with inappropriate thoughts. "I know how much you love being in control, Rudy." you tease, emphasizing his name to emphasize the intimate connection between you. "But sometimes, losing control can be good, don't you think?"

Rudy's lips part slightly, his breath catching in his throat as your words seep into his core. The cute soldier is at your mercy. The tables have turned, and you revel in the role reversal. The victory is yours.

Your hand glides lower, grazing the waistband of his boxers. "What would you do…" you murmur, your voice husky, "if I were to take control right now, Rudy?" The intensity in your eyes locks with his and for a moment, the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate moment.

A spark ignites within him, an unspoken desire mirrored in his gaze. The games you play have awakened a side of him he thought long buried, and now, he craves the wild you.

The battle lines blur as he surrenders to the temptation. A hint of a smile curling on his lips. "You" he murmurs, his voice laced with a mix of defiance and desire. "Have always been my weakness"

#los vaqueros #alejandro vargas #rudy call of duty #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty könig #call of duty #modern warfare x reader #cod mw gaz #cod mwf2 #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfic #soap cod #cod mw fanfiction #gaz cod #cod mwii #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #alejandro mw2 #rudy cod #call of duty john price #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap call of duty #call of duty kyle #könig cod

[odysirena]

meet cute (lo’ak x gn!metkayina!reader)

A/N: first atwow oneshot!! please let me know what you think! requests are open and i hope we all have some fun here! not proofread because i run on no sleep (1.1k)

The first thought that enters your brain when it regains consciousness is, Eywa give me the power to remain friends with this girl. 

You groggily whisper curses as your best friend, Tsireya, shakes you awake. She says your name again and aggressively shakes you three more times before she stops, letting silence engulf your marui pod. You feel yourself getting dragged to where you know the edge is and groan. You pull yourself up in a swift movement, not wanting a repeat of the morning splash incident. 

“I’m up, I’m up,” You put your hand up in surrender, slightly towering over your best friend. 

Tsireya wastes no time. She immediately takes hold of your hand and drags you away from your pod. 

“I haven’t even eate–” You interrupt yourself with a yelp when you’re forced to a stop. 

Tsireya shoves a fish your way, “Come! You need to meet the newcomers!” You take note of your best friend’s excited look before you redirect your gaze towards the fish.

“Okay, first of all, this is no longer warm, what am I supposed to do with this? Second–” 

“It would still be warm if you actually woke up on time.”

“–Newcomers? Anyone interesting?” You ignore her previous statement and resort to giving her a teasing look. 

Your best friend lets out an exasperated sigh before a playful smile graces her lips, “Well. . . I personally didn’t find anyone interesting,” She winks your way, “But you might.”

You furrow your eyebrows and stop walking, turning around to face her again. You catch sight of the shit-eating grin she has on her face. You put a hand up on front of you defensively, opening your mouth to let out a complaint but it dies down. 

Tsireya gives you a knowing look, you let out another sigh, “elaborate?”

She urges you two to start walking again before she speaks, “They are forest people.”

Once again, you come to a stop. Your best friend chuckles at your dazed expression before taking hold of your hand and dragging you, forcing you to walk by her side. 

“You told me that your father came from the forest,” Her voice gets softer, it always does when your conversations decide to dip its toes in unfamiliar waters.

She takes note of your hesitance and continues, “If you don’t want to, it’s alright, I won’t force you,” She bites back a grin, lightening up the conversation as she does,“I don’t think you’ll find their youngest boy that terrible looking though.”

She shoves you playfully before calling her ilu, she sends one last wink your way–an invitation to follow, and the option to eat along–before jumping in the water.

After quickly weighing your options, you decide to take a quick walk to your shore. It’s not officially yours, it’s more of an unspoken tradition amongst the Metkayina; if a Na’vi is seen habitually hanging around a specific area for a long enough time, it unofficially becomes their spot. 

It’s why your steps come to a halt once you spot a Na’vi in your territory. You can only see his back but it’s evident with the hue of his skin that this must be one of the newcomers that your best friend was blabbing about just a few minutes ago. 

You walk silently towards him, only stopping once you’re directly behind him. While waiting for him to take notice of your presence, you realise that he has a pile of wood and is most likely about to start a fire. You move your gaze to his left and spot his day’s hunt.

Your mouth twitches as it fights an internal battle; wait for him to notice or speak your mind.

“Not bad for a newcomer,” He turns to face you and lets out a high-pitched scream. You smile at the image of the newcomer flailing his arms theatrically. 

Once he’s calmed down, you’re able to take his face in. You tilt your head to the side in curiosity. Your examination is interrupted when he coughs, the tint on his face making his embarrassment known. 

“Hi?” He says, voice significantly deeper than it was a minute ago. 

You bend down to his level and bring your face closer to his before you stand back up, “I didn’t know people of the forest inked their body the same way we do.” 

“We don’t?” 

He stands up, now towering over you. He offers a hand, “Lo’ak” 

You say your name and quickly shake his hand before staring up again at him in wonder,

“But you have markings on your face?”

His ears flatten and you realise you have spoken without thought. You try to think of how you could possibly lighten the situation and resort to helping him cook his day’s hunt. 

You go around him, crouching down to light the campfire, motioning for him to help as well. He sits cross legged and works on cleaning the rest of the fish. 

Still unsatisfied with the comment that seems to have left him unsettled, you cough, quickly getting his attention. “It suits you,” you continue, “the markings I mean, it makes your face look nice.” 

Lo’ak looks at you in shock before looking down, you catch his bashful smile–fangs and all–the sight of it making your own lips twitch,

He straightens his back, “Thank you,” he coughs again, “We must hurry, if my family starts cooking before I finish then this would be wasted.”

You glance at the fish and the basket he has on the side, “They do not know that you are preparing a meal?”

“No, I didn’t even know I’d catch this many.” He says sheepishly.

You nod, looking up at the sky and taking note of the time. Lunch would usually be eaten in 4 hours, but considering they were newcomers performing activities their bodies aren’t used to, it’s better to make haste. The two of you begin to put the fish on the campfire

“It is your first time hunting here.” You comment, catching his gaze to see if your guess was correct. 

Lo’ak  nods enthusiastically, “Yes. I’ve caught fish before though, back in the forest,” he makes a figure with his hands, using them theatrically, “We don’t use nets like you do though, since we catch them in rivers, we use our bows instead.”

You smile at his story, moving fish from the campfire to the basket as you do, “You did well for a first catch,” you commend, smiling when he shoots a grin your way. 

“I don’t think I saw you when we first arrived?” It seems it was his turn to question you.

“You make it a habit to look at everyone?” You ask him playfully.

He furrows the ink above his eyes in thought, “No, not really,” he smiles at you, “You would definitely catch my eye though.”

His comment brings a smile to your face, you decide not to comment and instead answer his previous comment. “I was busy,” he tilts his head, “sleeping.” 

Lo’ak throws his head back in laughter, “You and I will get along well.” 

You both smile at the promise.

#avatar #avatar way of water #atwow #lo’ak #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak headcanon #lo’ak hc #lo’ak imagine #tsireya #lo’ak oneshot

[donaweasley]

Promises to Keep

Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader

Plot:

Geralt is tasked with protecting a princess but his feelings keep poking at him, urging him to shed his tough armour and give in to his heart. But the witcher is a righteous man. He won’t succumb to his feelings so easily. Will he?

Some pining, some fluff that will lead to a “part 2” of this story.

Warnings: A bit of m.at.ure stuff. K.i.d.s better stay away!

Read time: ~15 mins

Note: This story has been based in a timeline before the fall of Cintra, and so, Geralt has not yet started his quest for Ciri. Oh, and he doesn’t fall in love with Yennefer. 😉

Prologue:

Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with many a difficult missions but the hardest of them all was probably not killing but protecting a person. That person was a princess whose parents had specifically called for Geralt to take their daughter under his wing as Nilfgaard marched towards their doorstep.

The princess could fight; she had been in battles but Nilfgaard had morphed into something entirely different from what the Continent had previously seen. It was as though Hell itself had poured into their army, leaving a trail of ash and blood wherever it went.

And so, turning all cries and protests from the said princess to deaf ears, her parents sent her away, in return of an assurance from her that, should their kingdom fall, she would come back and restore it to its glory, flying their banners from every nook and corner.

They knew she could, they had said.

The journey with Geralt had not been easy, moving from camp to camp, from inn to inn, not to mention the complications of his profession. But time gradually made things easier for them both, eventually bringing them to a point where they could comfortably pose as husband and wife so as to protect her identity, and avail a temporary shelter in a village.

And even though they were living a lie of being a married pair, their hearts often wished to forget reality, and enjoy the bliss of domestic life with one another. To be with each other unconditionally, forgetting all rules and boundaries.

But Geralt was a man of ethics, and she did not want him to bear the burden of guilt just because her stupid heart could not stop fluttering for this kind, brave gentleman with a heart of gold!

And thus, neither, for fear of straining what they already had, could ever utter their feelings to each other. After all, they had promises to keep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months ago:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She hurt herself on the thick leather armour as she flung her arms around his neck. But she did not care. That was a pain she would happily endure if it meant seeing Geralt at her doorstep safe and sound.

He smelled of sweat and blood and the swamp. He probably tasted like it, too. Alright, so what? The man returned after three weeks from the edge of the Continent. And perhaps from the edge of life. She couldn't care less about what he smelled or tasted like. But did he really…? She was very close to confirming her assumption - almost there - when Geralt suddenly remembered his place: the protector of the princess, a mere witcher.

“Princess,” the rich baritone vibrating in her ear woke her up from her purple dream. She could not help but lean back when she found her “husband” doing the same.

Geralt spread his arms slightly, and smiled with that usual softness in his eyes that came to the forefront only when she was around. “Safe and sound. Just like I had promised.”

“I am honoured!” She jested, and stepped inside, making room for Geralt to do the same.

“Give me a minute. I'll draw a bath for you. And once you have cleaned that mess off you, you'll have a warm dinner waiting,” she smiled and turned to make her way to the bath when Geralt gently but firmly held her wrist.

Neither could deny the spark that coursed through their veins at the contact. But neither would confess. Involuntarily, the witcher’s thumb made faint circles over her veins. Once he realised what he was doing, he slowly released her but their fingers lingered over the other’s before finally making some room between them.

Geralt pleaded with her to stop fussing over it all but the woman was ecstatic! Who could stop her from doing everything she could for the man she was falling in love with! Not even the strongest witcher.

And so, she hopped away to prepare a warm bath for him while he busied himself with the relieving task of removing his armour and weapons.

Geralt lay in the bath, pondering over the unsaid things that have been passing between the princess and him. Especially the ones that happened that evening. They had never been this close before, and it only made his breath shallower every time he thought about it. His mind wandered away unleashed every time his drunken heart slipped into fantasies of what could have happened had he not pulled away from her embrace…or what might happen if he allowed himself a bit more liberty with his feelings…

A gentle knock on the door startled him, bringing him back to the reality of the small room lit by two candles, back to the fact that the woman living under the same roof with him was his mission, not his real wife, as the villagers knew her to be. There was no way a witcher could dream of having a wife and a family, let alone with a princess!

“Need anything?” The voice was gentle, happy…it was caring. It made Geralt smile to think that someone cared so deeply for him, that he was actually having a domestic life, even though a fake one.

“Your company would be nice,” he quipped.

Geralt grinned wickedly. He did not need to see her to know the blush creeping up her ears and cheek.

Over the months their relationship - real or fake, whatever that was - had built into a strong bond, one that was made of cares, banters, challenges, huffs (and not just from the witcher), puns of all kinds and fluttering heartbeats. And though neither backed down during the banters or the puns, either one of them definitely ended up with blood rushing up their cheeks.

(Y/N) bit her lip and rolled her eyes. Two could play this game. Taking a deep breath, she cracked the door open. It startled Geralt, and she could tell it without seeing his wide eyes and parted lips.

“I believe you have a lot to talk about from your adventure?” She slowly walked in, eyes straining to look anywhere but at him.

She did not receive an immediate response. How could she! Geralt was spellbound by the boldness of this woman! It was inspired by his own recent boldness, perhaps, he wondered.

He cleared his throat, “Indeed.”

She picked up a small wooden stool, and sat with her back to him. “You were saying?”

“I would detail everything but are you sure you can stomach all that? And before dinner?”

Glimpses from his previous tales crept back, and she gulped at the gory imaginations that his words had painted in her head. Perhaps she could not. But would she confess? No!

“I’m tougher than you think, witcher.”

This was their usual way of addressing each other: “Witcher”, with a sarcastic stress in the middle of the word, and “Princess”, with a vanity enveloping the word.

When they had set out for their journey, she had requested him not to call her “princess”. “I have a name, and I would like to be addressed by it,” she had insisted. But Geralt had decided on maintaining his propriety.

When asked whether he would like to be addressed as Geralt or Witcher, he had simply mumbled, “Whatever you like, Princess.”

“Witcher it is then.”

And that has ever been going on, until recently when some rare moments witnessed them addressing each other by their names, and not what they were to the world.

In the small bathroom now, she heard a slosh behind her, signalling the rise of the large man from his bath. She tried her best to stop her shameless mind from picturing his wet body, dripping with water as he stood and stepped out of the tub, as he reached for the towel nearby and dried himself with it before wrapping it low around his waist. But the quiet of the night made sure that every little sound and movement reached her ears, leaving her a slave to her unabashed imagination.

Geralt grunted, the sound coming from right above her head.

“I know you can’t take it…Princess,” the last word was practically breathed on the shell of her ear.

Leaving her a total mess, Geralt sauntered out of the bathroom with a promise to indulge her in his stories after dinner.

That night, in the faint light of the moon, nimble fingers traced the contours of the witcher’s face as he slept - brows slightly arched, lips parted, face as serene as a dawn in Spring. She watched him breathe peacefully, devoid of the cares of the world, until a small smile cracked at a corner of his mouth. With eyes still closed, he placed a hand on hers and brought it to his lips. A chaste kiss was all it was, and yet it had her heart thundering. He had never - ever - shown any affection other than soft looks and gentle smiles.

“Sleep princess,” he rasped in a sleepy voice.

He opened his eyes once, to watch her smile at him, before holding her hand snuggly and drifting back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present day:

The sound of the door cracking open brought her back to the present. Quickly slipping a little more below the soapy water, she gripped the hilt of her sword.

It was Geralt. The moment he set one foot inside, his eyes went wide. It took him hardly a second to swing on his heels, to look away, but the sinful image had planted itself in his head. Probably for eternity.

“Pardon me. I…I did not know… I thought you were done. I just returned from outside; I did not notice that you were not anywhere else. I…”

“Geralt!” His name. She spoke his name! That, along with her soothing tone put an abrupt end to his string of stammering apologies. “It’s alright. I know you had no ill intentions.”

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet for a couple of seconds, he asked, “Do you need anything?”

Her lips stretched into a smirk as she recalled an old conversation that had occurred under very similar circumstances.

“Your company would be nice,” she quipped, just like Geralt had a few months ago.

The witcher recognised the joke immediately. A small smile escaped his usual serious features.

“I believe you have a lot to talk about your first kill,” he jested just like she had back then.

The sigh that filled the room made Geralt wonder if he had said something uncalled for. She was shaken by the incident but if she was making jokes now, she must be recovering. Right?

“(Y/N),” Geralt called without looking at her, “are you alright?”

“No, if truth be told,” came the confession.

He understood. Keeping his gaze focused on the floor, he took a few large steps until he was standing near the foot of the tub. In one smooth move, he was sitting on the floor with his back to her.

There was something about Geralt that made her feel protected all the time. Even in her most exposed and vulnerable state, she felt safe and comfortable with him around. And it was not just the love she felt for him. It was something else. It was something…very “Geralt”.

“The monsters we kill haunt our minds till long after. You never get used to it no matter how many kills you have made,” he sighed.

(Y/N) listened quietly. He was a man of few words, and at most times it seemed as though he was not even listening. But he always understood every single unexpressed emotion, every single unsaid word that she carried within her.

“Every time I close my eyes or every time I hear something, fear grips me,” she shivered at the thought. “You are right. I'm haunted by its memory, and … I cannot seem to shake the thoughts off. No matter how hard I try! I cannot even be courageous enough to convince myself that it is all in my head!” She slapped the water in frustration.

Unlike the witcher, killing monsters was not her profession nor did she volunteer for it. But what she did volunteer for was accompanying Geralt to a trip to the river caves for some herbs. Despite the witcher’s efforts to shield her inside the safety of their home, she managed to argue her way out of the proverbial safety net. Which is what led to the unforeseen event of her first close encounter with one of the many monsters that had become part of Geralt’s life. It also led her to, for the first time, being at the receiving end of Geralt’s fury for risking her life .

‘You were very courageous back there,” Geralt smiled at the memory of her driving her sword through the neck of the drowner, thus saving his own neck in the process.

“I had to be! Couldn’t just stand there and watch my favourite grumpy fellow die!” She jested about it but a shiver ran up her spine as she spoke. “It was disgusting, you know? I can still feel all the blood and slime on my skin.”

“It was also very brave. You saved my life!”

He had thought that his statement would make her proud but he was met with silence.

She spoke after a while. “You do know that I shall not be able to live anymore if something happens to you, don’t you? I shall only survive.”

Geralt’s heart suddenly felt very heavy in his chest. What she said was known information to him. Somewhere in his soul, he knew that she loved him. But to hear it aloud was totally unexpected.

“I shall be fine, princess,” he used his most assuring voice. “Do not worry about me.”

Unseen by him, a smile formed on her countenance. “I know, witcher.”

“Maybe we could talk about something else?” He suggested. “Take your mind off the monster?”

“Hmm… How is Jaskier?” She suddenly asked.

Geralt almost turned his head towards her in surprise. Almost. She was naked, having a bath, and the first “something else” that came to her mind was the bard??

“Jaskier?” He asked. “You wish to talk about Jaskier now?”

“Well, you wanted to talk about something else!”

Was that jealousy that she was sensing in his huffs? She hoped it was.

“He must be fine. I do not know.” He ended the topic as quickly as it had begun.

“Hmm.”

The princess laid her head back on the tub and closed her eyes. There was a comfortable silence. So comfortable that she did want to leave, did not want to do anything that might disturb the moment. Even though it was getting late. Even though Geralt still had to wash himself.

Geralt still has to wash himself! Shit! He must be hungry!

Her eyes shot open. “I’m sorry, I forgot you have to wash up, too! I shall be quick.”

The sudden splash of water pulled Geralt out of his own reverie, inadvertently causing him to turn around so as to ask her not to hurry. But the sight before him left him speechless. It was fortunate that she was too busy to see him else he would never have been able to face her in shame. Geralt turned back and shut his eyes as soon as he snapped out of his trance. But that did nothing to erase the image imprinted in his mind. Not that he wanted to.

She had pulled herself up slightly, as she tried to reach for the towel on the nearby stool. In the light of the candles, her body glowed golden as water cascaded off every curve of her body… down the side of her neck, her shoulders, two perfect globes that highlighted particularly well in the candlelight, perky nipples that had hardened in the water, the beginning of a lustful waist…

He did not hear her step out of the tub, did not hear the rustle of clothes as she got dressed, no. His mind was replaying the same thing over and over again. There was an evident twitch somewhere down his body. He faintly heard something about dinner and changing the water. The creak of the door pulled him back.

“I shall…” His voice was hoarse. “I shall change the water. You may leave.”

The change in his mannerism surprised her but then both his voice and attitude were gravelly most of the time. With a small “alright”, she exited, leaving him to his thoughts.

Dinner was quiet as Geralt tried to suppress the feelings bubbling inside him. He wanted to look at her and lose himself in her eyes. He wanted to tell her how he felt. Wanted to show her what it meant to unleash months of bridled love that he had been carrying within his entire being. He wanted to…

Gods! There were so many things that he wanted to do. But every time he talked himself into taking one step forward, his reality made him take two steps back.

And so, once again, he retired to bed without telling her anything at all about the whirlwind in his heart.

Geralt woke up sometime in the middle of the night, sensing some movements near him. Once sleep stopped fogging his senses, he realised that it was (Y/N) tossing and turning beside him in her sleep. Not only was she being restless, she was mumbling something incoherent that only got louder with her movements. It hardly took him a couple of seconds to realise that she was having a nightmare!

Geralt tried to wake her up: called her name, shook her. But she was trapped deep in her own head. He thought he heard something like his name but could not be sure. Seeing his efforts go in vain, he took her face in both hands and shouted her name while shaking her once more. He wasn’t sure if it would work but luckily, it did. With wild eyes she stared at him, as if trying to figure out where she was, trying to put up a wall between her horrid imagination and sweet reality. When she finally came around, she threw her arms around Geralt’s neck, causing him to tumble to the mattress with her below. Once again, he fought with himself as a wave of relief washed over him, eventually crashing into a strong desire to keep her encased in his arms and caress her for the remainder of the night.

“I dreamt that you were…” she almost sobbed. “That I had…” She couldn’t bring those bitter words to her tongue.

Geralt understood.

“You will never lose me. I shall always be by your side. I promise.”

In the dark veil of the night, in those weak moments, he made her a promise that even he did not know how he would keep, for she would be married to some royalty some day; she would have to go away, leaving him with his solitude and monsters. He could not keep her to himself nor could he watch her be with somebody else.

But that was a worry for another day. Right then, she was in his arms, and no one else’s. Even if for a moment, she was his. He lay on his side and pulled her to his chest. A hand cradled her head, drawing soothing lines through her hair, until her warm breath on his skin had become stable.

Geralt never seeked help or answers from the gods; he did not believe in them. But as he kissed the crown of her head that night, his lips prayed for her safety and happiness, and if possible, for her to be bound to him for eternity.

He knew he was being selfish. He did not know who heard his prayers or even if there was someone who might hear them. But he whispered them anyway, believing that it was the only way to make his wishes come true.

***

#geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #the witcher #the witcher netflix #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n