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clockwayswrites · 2 months

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Masked in Amity

CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)

Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.

“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?

“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”

“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”

“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”

“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.

“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”

“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”

Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.

“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”

“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”

“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”

“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”

Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”

Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.

This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”

The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”

“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…

Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”

Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”

“So you want to leave me in the past?”

“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”

“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.

Danny scrambled off also.

“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”

Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”

“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”

“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”

“And then left.”

“So I could help other people!”

“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”

Danny closed his mouth with a clack.

Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”

“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”

“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.

“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”

“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.

Maybe he really was just a caged beast.

“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.

As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.

AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.

#dp x dc #past Danny/Sam #masked #death defying

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flutterby5 · 2 years

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#I know my blog is mostly just a skz blog now bc it’s been a while since I’ve posted non skz fandom stuff but it is still a personal blog #I’m so bad at organizing my thoughts and tbh sometimes I don’t even want to organize them bc I’m scared to see the all the negativity #in broad daylight yknow? but it’s just…it’s so exhausting to be alive/to keep yourself alive I don’t know how else to say it #do all postgrads go through this or am I just taking life to seriously idk like I like my job ish ish but my coworkers seem more passionate #about it than I am and I’m just like?? maybe I’m not passionate and I could be happier somewhere else but I’m also scared to jump..I think #a lot of this just has to do with the way I’m such a coward man…just I seriously don’t know how to talk about it but the corporate grind..#the adulting..the chores..the trying to meet people but not wanted to get infected bc covid isn’t over but no one cares anymore….#maybe I do have very low risk tolerance but it also doesn’t make sense to just accept that people are going to get reinfected over and over #and we’re all supposed to just be ok with that like there has to be a better way and maybe I’ll be proven wrong in a couple of years but #like…I want covid to be over sosososo bad I wanna do young people things without risking infection and reinfection and I hate being gaslit #and I hate that no one cares I’m so exhausted of all this I’m so so tired #if I move back home it’s the same thing like I just want to find people who share my values like birds of a feather flock together where #are my birds????? I’m terrible at making friends and all of this makes it worse but I just genuinely don’t know what to do anymore #random thoughts don’t mind me #I am spiraling #genuinely does it ever get better should I just trust the process and live in the present?? does life get better??? or am I just doomed

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aureatchi · 4 months

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⛇₊˚ .࿐₊˚✧ BUBBLES IN MY CHAMPAGNE, LET IT BE SOME JAZZ PLAYIN’ . . .OSAMU DAZAI

⟢ SYNOPSIS. the port-mafia was infamous for throwing glamorous holiday parties every year. not only were you attending this time, but you were also finally going to be introduced as the port-mafia boss’ pretty girlfriend! or…that was the plan.

of course, things never go according to plan.

a/n. merry christmas !! adding onto the xmas dazai fics jdjsjwn <3 this one’s vv chaotic.

info. fem!reader. pm boss!dazai. pm exec!reader. fluff, angst, pinch of sugg. there’s DRAMA. mentions of drinking. lil jealousy. dazai is a 💩. the pm is filthy rich lmao. pazenia is a made up country. wc. 3.4k

“Oh my.”

“How do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

The brunette chuckled as he waltzed towards you. You saw him appear behind you through the sizeable full-body mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist as you finished applying your lipstick.

“It looks even better on you.” Dazai’s fingers wandered playfully, tracing the curves the red dress he gifted you hugged so well. The tailoring was so impressive—the dress could fit noone else but you. And indeed, it was made exclusively for you, for the largest and most luxe corporate event of the year.

It was the Port Mafia Christmas party. Everyone was required to attend, and plus-ones were allowed too, stirring even more chaos into the affair. You were a Port Mafia executive—of course you were going, but the night was going to be unique for another reason.

Tonight, the Port Mafia boss would confirm all the rumors…all the gossip circulating the past few months. He was finally making your relationship with him official in front of everyone.

As if everyone still doesn’t know.

Yet you were nervous. Keeping things an enigma actually worked in your favor—besides suspicious stares with muffled voices and jealous women, you didn’t have to worry about much. Dazai would take care of any problem. After all, you trusted him completely.

But now, everyone would know. You and Dazai had gone through all the downsides—you could become a potential target for any enemies, your name would rise even higher on the wanted list, and you could be stalked by frustrated, jealous men…honestly, you two were almost too hot for your own wellbeing.

Just almost, because “I’ll take care of it all. I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you, darling.”

He whispered those words into your ear, sensing your anxiousness as you continued to look at your reflections.

“Please don’t worry.”

He did not speak in his usual teasing, playfully amorous voice. The brunette’s face matched the seriousness of the topic you had both gone over multiple times, making sure that the other wanted to still go through with it. You both didn’t want to force the decision of your relationship upon the other—though it was Dazai who had suggested the idea, the choice rested entirely on you. He ensured you knew you could change your mind anytime you wanted.

And Dazai wished you could see that he truly, would go to the ends of universes to make sure you were safe.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I won’t,” you replied. “I’m only worried about you. I need to be by your side at all times to fight any bad guys that come for you.”

And girls. If you were being honest, you always felt a bit sick thinking about other women wanting him. Maybe this is why your nerves hadn’t backed you out yet…you wanted everyone to know their leader was indeed taken.

Dazai laughed more heartily than he intended to at the comment. He, the now Port Mafia superior commander, known even before as the Demon Prodigy, was being talked to in concern that he needed a sidekick to help him.

Though, he was also the same man whose mind was full of fervor for one girl. You giggled, seeing the apparent blush on Dazai’s face when you fixed his black tie. He was matching with you, of course—his red attire was the ruby scarf.

“Perfect,” you mused when you were done. “Wow, you’re handsome.“

“And you’re ethereal,” Dazai responded, putting on your coat. “Ready to go shock everyone?”

“As if half of the mafia doesn’t already suspect anything between us, Osamu,” you smiled.

“Hmm…you’re right.

“Of course they’d think I’d sought after the prettiest woman in the world.” A coy grin snuck back onto his lips.

…

It was evident your lover had good taste, not only in outfits. He chose to rent out one of the big hotels as the venue for the party—very fitting for the filthy-rich organization.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped out of the limo was the massive Christmas tree in the center of the hall.

“Woah.” There were at least fifty gifts under it already.

You noticed Dazai’s brows suddenly furrow as he, too, inspected the presents.

“Osamu?”

“Bella, remind me who this person is again.”

He picked up a present, showing you a familiar name.

“Oh!” He was the assistant under your wing. You two had worked together for years—you had built up a lot of trust and a friendship to have him in charge of some of your responsibilities.

“I see. Don’t mind that; I forget some of my men sometimes.”

You nodded, though you felt a bit unsure about his response. Regardless, you cast the thought aside.

What you didn’t notice was the way Dazai showed you the package. The present was from your assistant, but the name it was for was entirely covered by the brunette’s hand.

“Well, are you ready to go in?” Dazai asked, holding out a hand towards you.

“Yeah, I’m-”

“Dazai!”

It was Kouyou, another executive. She saw you and greeted you, too.

“My, you’re looking lovely today,” she chirped. “So you and the boss are dating.”

You smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, better tell everyone soon,” she told the both of you. “Dazai, a daughter of a very infamous organization in Europe, is at this party as a plus-one. She wants to discuss a business proposal…‘as soon as possible,’ she said. It’s confidential, too; she only wants you. Do you have a few moments to spare?”

Dazai immediately turned toward you, to which you nodded at him. “It seems important, especially if she’s from Europe.”

“You’re sure?” Dazai asked. You were supposed to walk into the dining hall together to introduce yourselves as the power couple of the evening. “What about…”

“Yeah, the mafia is the priority. I’ll find you soon.” You were an executive, after all. The mafia existed to protect Yokohama City, so work should be an urgency.

“Alright,” he replied. He took another look at you—a singular, amber eye softened once he met your gaze. The other was hidden behind bandages, and so were the emotions of his heart. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling at the moment.

“Let’s go, big sis.” He turned towards Kouyou, who led him out of the room.

Now alone, not counting the guards, you glanced at the presents again, picking up the one Dazai had previously questioned you about.

Oh! Your assistant gave you a present. You found it sweet; your assistant hadn’t gifted you anything until this year. Now Dazai’s reaction made sense—perhaps he had thought you had a secret admirer or something. You giggled at his assumed jealousy.

…

You walked inside the dining hall by yourself, a large crowd already entertaining themselves inside. Everyone who saw you stopped to greet you—their executive, and you wished them a merry Christmas back with a friendly smile.

“Huh? So she’s not dating him?”

You turned your head the slightest, pretending to grab a drink while you instead eavesdropped on two employees you hardly knew. Thank goodness they weren’t the ones going out on missions to spy—they were terrible at not being obvious.

“I’m not sure. But that underground aristocrat from Europe that everyone knows has a crush on the boss showed up to meet him. That huge Christmas tree by the staircases is actually a gift from her.”

“Really?! So…maybe she was the boss’ plus-one? Now that’s wild. Everyone really had me believing he was seeing the executive.”

“Yo!” Your attention was suddenly pulled from their conversation.

“You good? You’re overflowing your cup.” You had poured too much drink, so liquid was running all over the floor.

“Shoot, I think she heard us!” you faintly heard behind you as the employees moved away.

“Oh, yeah. I’m so sorry,” you responded to your assistant who had found you. He handed you a few napkins to clean your hands and dropped a few more to mop the floor with his shoe.

“You didn’t need to help, and thank you,” you said as you cleaned up, too, feeling bad.

“All good! Merry Christmas, by the way. How’s your evening going so far?”

“Good, thank you,” you responded, half-truthful. You needed to find somewhere to process what you had just heard. Even if they were only rumors…they bothered you.

“I saw you got me a gift in the lobby,” you added, recalling earlier. “I was surprised! You haven’t done that before, so I found it so sweet.”

“Oh yeah!” he replied, and you didn’t miss the pink that tinted his cheeks. “Who knows…I may have had a change of heart this year.”

You chuckled innocently. “Well, whatever the reason, thank you! I’m excited to see what you got.”

“Of course. I do hope you like it! Also, your dress. It looks good on you.” His voice sped up at his last comment.

“Oh, uh, thanks-”

That was really awkward. You gave him mercy, though…you hadn’t even told him you were in a relationship. So, you tried to say to him that it was your boyfriend, Dazai, who had the dress made for you, but you were cut off.

Dazai had finally entered the room, but he was accompanied by that noblewoman everyone was speaking about.

Wow, she was gorgeous. Her hair was in a perfect blowout, and she wore an emerald green dress that fit her like a glove.

And with each step Dazai and this new woman took into the hall to be regarded by everyone, your heart sank a bit more into your stomach.

What??

“You don’t look so well. Are you okay?” Your assistant paid no mind to the mafia boss’ new commotion. He was wholly concerned for you.

“Yeah. This drink tastes weird, but I can’t put my finger on what.” Yet, you took another sip. What was going on? You had never doubted Dazai’s love or loyalty toward you. Had you been so blind by your own to miss this?

Dazai didn’t even bother trying to search for you. And the way the lady’s arm touchingly clung around his infuriated you.

“He was seeing some foreign princess all along?”

“The boss always has to cause a scene with something new.”

“They’re kind of hot together, though.”

Now you really wanted to puke. You stared until the noblewoman’s eyes finally caught yours and dwelt on your figure briefly before turning toward Dazai and asking him something.

Dazai’s lips read, “Okay!” before a guard approached you.

“The boss is summoning all the executives to him,” he whispered in your ear, and you nodded, strolling over to him.

Fuck. You wanted to cry. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

You felt a bit better when the other executives—Kouyou and Chuuya showed up before you.

“Miss, these are the Port Mafia’s three executives.” He introduced you individually, not meeting your eye when he went to you.

You wanted to leave. There was no point in being here anymore. What you thought would be a cheery Christmas Eve turned out to be the worst night ever. It couldn’t have gotten any worse…

“And this is the Lady of Pazenia,” Dazai said, introducing the woman. “Our most important foreign guest tonight.”

“So, uh? I’m kinda confused,” Chuuya commented. “Mackerel boss, ya dating her or something?” He glanced at Dazai, the girl on him, and then you.

She responded for him. “We’re getting acquainted tonight, that’s all,” she replied smugly. Dazai chuckled. “Yes…we’ve communicated online a few times, but this is the first time we’re meeting face to face.”

What the fuck.

“Oh, uh, okay.” For once, Chuuya didn’t pester, didn’t tease anymore. Because he was just as startled as you. He, too, suspected that you were dating the boss.

“I’m sorry, will you please excuse me? It was nice meeting you, m’lady; I hope you enjoy your Christmas with the boss.” You didn’t even wait for a reply. You stormed off in the direction of your assistant. You were going to ask him to drive you home, and then you’d pack your things and then stay at a friend’s house for a few days to figure out what to do next.

Everything was crashing down like an avalanche.

But before you could get to him, the bastard’s subordinate stopped you.

“Akutagawa? Hi, Merry Christmas. Sorry, I’m in a rush-”

“Merry Christmas, miss,” he responded, moving in front of you again when you tried to shift over. “Aren’t you going to rescue the boss? Has your emotion clouded your rationality so much you can’t see things clearly anymore?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

You turned back towards the scene, and yeah—what you saw was your final straw. Akutagawa misjudged. Not even a glimmer of hope remained in you.

Somehow, they had ended up at the corner of the room. And lo and behold, Dazai and the Lady of Pazenia had ended up under the mistletoe, and many of the upper ranks surrounded them. There was even a Paparazzi.

You tried to push past Akutagawa, but he stopped you.

“Watch.”

Why? Did Dazai place him there to make sure you suffered through it all? This was so cruel. Tears welled up in your eyes as the room went quiet to watch.

“Oh! Silly me…how did I manage to get here?”

“I’m not sure…” the woman replied flirtatiously. “But you can’t break a tradition, boss of the Port Mafia.”

“I guess I can’t,” Dazai replied, leaning in. “But, can we make a deal, Miss?

“You can kiss me, but tell me where the real Lady of Pazenia is. The exact coordinates where you’re keeping her hostage. If there’s anyone kept in place to secure or torture her.”

And the crowd suddenly gasped. She did, too, and a hand flew to her mouth.

“Shit!”

About ten guards ran towards her, restraining her before she could do anything. Dazai calmly backed away, continuing to explain.

“The business proposal was crafty and would’ve led to our doom quite quickly. You’re trying to overthrow your own government. So, you devised a cover-up to get the mafia to help you, with a deal to help us on our end, but just like your original goal, you want our city’s government to fall into anarchy, too.

“An underground noblewoman. You are exactly that—quite literally.” Dazai sighed. “No, I’m not in a relationship with her, I…”

Dazai finally met your eye, and his heart immediately sunk seeing you cry.

“Oh my gosh,” he whispered, and he ran towards you, tightly embracing you.

You wanted to punch him, throw him away—something, but you were surrounded by half the corporate. There was already enough scandal tonight, you didn’t need to add any more.

“Hah, it’s okay,” you responded audibly, hastily wiping tears. “You’re a great actor, Osamu, really got me believing you were cheating on me for a second.” Words spurred out of your mouth—you hoped you wouldn’t regret it later.

Dazai’s grip on you tightened to silently show you gratitude before he turned to your audience. “Now that the problem is out of the way—Merry Christmas to you all.” A waiter handed him a glass of champagne, who had also gone around with multiple others to hand out drinks to everyone.

“And a special Merry Christmas to my girlfriend, right here.” He gave you a kind smile, and you tried your best to reciprocate your own. There were “awe”’s and “that’s so cute”’s about.

Dazai held his glass up towards everyone else’s before toasting with yours.

…

You stayed away from Dazai for the next hour. He respected your space for that long—in the meantime, you acted fine. You conversed with others, you laughed. Your assistant apologized for his comment on you earlier—“I was completely oblivious to you and the boss! I’m so sorry; I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” You laughed it off, telling him it was okay.

“Hey, bella.”

Dazai had finally found you alone. You looked at him, facing the inevitable.

“I’m getting tired. Wanna sneak away with me?”

You hesitated. “Where would we go?”

“The drinks suck here, besides that champagne. I know Chuuya was definitely not in charge of this part.”

You had to agree with that one. You couldn’t even finish the glass you overfilled earlier.

…

Bar Lupin was surprisingly empty that night. The bar was Dazai’s safe place, his getaway. You were constantly reminded of his genuine, complete trust in you whenever he took you here.

“I’m sorry,” Dazai apologized as you waited for your drinks. “What I did was brutal.”

“It really fucking hurt,” you said, finally able to release your true feelings now that nobody else was around.

“I had to keep up the act to expose her. Her vulnerability was that…she had a crush on me? So, the most rapid way to gain her trust was to make her believe she had a chance. She didn’t know I was seeing someone.”

“You take acting too seriously. You’re the Port Mafia boss, not some goddamn movie actor. You couldn’t even…make eye contact with me? Give me a reassuring look or something?”

“You’re right. That’s no excuse.” He took a breath. He had actually messed something up. He could predict and do everything else flawlessly until it came to the people he loved.

He always screwed it up.

“I set aside our relationship for a mission. I’m really sorry, love. And I understand if it takes awhile for you to think through it all. The only thing I ask is for forgiveness.”

“I dunno…it kind of seems like you enjoyed it…”

That was a lie. You were just saying things out of spite now. You had rethought the previous events after recalling what Akutagawa had harshly told you without context—rescue the boss? Yeah, Dazai clearly didn’t enjoy it. He never touched the woman back in any way, and his word choice was very cautious. Except one line.

“Us communicating online? Yeah, I knew she’d just go along with it. I had to say that so Chuuya would stop pushing and blow my cover. Besides, you literally have my email login, darling. You see everything.”

“I really hate you sometimes, Osamu, you know?” you muttered as the bartender finally handed you two your drinks. You took a thirsty sip out of yours. You couldn’t even stay mad anymore.

“Is that your way of saying you forgive me?” he chuckled, knowing the mood was lightening.

“No. You’re just too…attractive. Like, why are you so hot? All the girls want you…I was actually quite relieved when you asked me if we should make things official so everyone could finally know that we belong to each other…”

Hah, if only you knew.

“You don’t assume I think the same? You almost pissed me off by hanging around your little assistant, too, belladonna. He clearly fancies you.”

You gulped, remembering his earlier compliment. “Don’t do anything to him—he didn’t know. He does now.”

“He better,” he simply replied. “And everyone else. There’s no excuse now—you’re the Port Mafia boss’ girlfriend.”

You felt like there were butterflies in your stomach. The protectiveness was attractive. You pulled on Dazai’s tie, reeling the rest of him towards you.

“And you’re my boyfriend,” you smiled.

To everyone else, Dazai was known as evil, suicidal, murderer, demon, saint. But to you, he was simply Osamu. Your boyfriend. And perhaps that’s what he loved most of all. Across universes, you would not fail him—not even Odasaku succeeded so highly.

“Are you going to kiss me, bella?” Dazai asked, the signature smile back on his face.

“No,” you teased, pushing him back. “I’m still mad at you. Nothing went according to plan.”

“Nothing did,” the brunette replied. “But isn’t that what’s so exciting about life? Life is unexpected, yet some good things can come out of it, such as…”

He revealed a piece of mistletoe in his hand, holding it above you two.

“Even if you’re mad, you can’t break a tradition,” Dazai spoke, swinging the plant back and forth.

You sighed before you both leaned in to kiss each other. Dazai pulled you onto his lap, and you kissed him even more feverishly. Your hands ran through his hair until the bandage around his head finally came undone, unveiling the rest of his pretty face.

You focused on his dilated, honey-colored eyes. Finally, they revealed what he was feeling. Comfort in having you in his arms again. In your warmth.

Everything felt too intense after that. He had started making out with you again, his hands were wandering you curiously, the dim lighting, the jazz instrumental, how tipsy you felt from the drinks…

“Let’s just go home.”

…

You were swaddled in Dazai’s arms under the bed's covers at home. So sleepy. Dazai promised that the next day would treat the both of you better—a peaceful Christmas gift.

“Let’s stop doing such large parties,” you said, looking up at the ceiling. “It just calls for trouble, to be honest.”

“Yeah…we’ll have a small houseparty next time. Everyone else can do what they want.”

You were gently kissed on the forehead before the brunette softly whispered to you. “Merry Christmas, belladonna. I love you.”

“I love you too, Osamu.”

dazai told me he’d kiss u if u rb this. rbs are cherished; they are ur christmas gift to me! <3

tags: @kissesmellow21 @osaemu @ruanais + @lovedazai @chuuyrr @anqelically (i think u guys would like this <3)

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maximoffwitch · 9 months

Note

for the 1k celebration, could i please request from the smut list #126. "I'm sorry but, I don't think I can remain professional any longer." with natasha x fem(she/her) reader? 🥺

Keeping It Professional

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: 18+ !!! heavy sexual content, swearing, strap-on use (r receiving), fingering, reader has a praise kink, oral, mature content overall!!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: wow okay so this is like the smuttiest thing i have ever written i honestly don't know what i'm doing so pls be kind 🫣 also pls ignore the fact that this request is over a year old and from a celebration i never finished 😭 and as a reminder: this blog is 18+ !! (because this comes up in the story CEO is Chief Executive Officer and CFO is Chief Financial Officer :))

“You wanted to see, Ms. Romanoff?” You entered the large corner office, gently closing the door behind you.

“Yes, (Y/N),” the redhead didn’t even look up at you, her eyes still glued to whatever important documents she was reviewing. Natasha Romanoff was one of the most powerful CEOs in the city, if not the world, starting her own consulting firm at just 23. By the time she was twenty-eight, Widow Enterprises was the most successful firm in the entire country, making Natasha the first female executive and the youngest to lead an industry.

Oh, and she was also your boss. Working as Natasha Romanoff’s personal assistant was often a thankless job. The long hours and tedious tasks left little room for a social life, and your boss’s stoic perfectionism did little to ease your days.

“Please sit.” Natasha motioned to the two chairs in front of her desk, finally looking up and setting down her pen.

You obliged, taking a seat across from her.

“Do you know why I called you into my office, (Y/N)?” The redhead leaned back into her chair, as she carefully observed you.

You frowned, quickly racking your brain for any reason why your boss could want to talk to you so out of the blue and, apparently, in such a serious manner.

“Did you want to discuss the upcoming board meeting?” You subconsciously crossed your legs and adjusted your slacks, a nervous habit you picked up in said board meetings—being one of two women in a room of men is nerve-racking, to say the least. “I prepared all the notes and slide decks, but did you want me to forward them to you to review?”

Natasha had stopped double-checking your work about six months into your tenure there, as you had proven yourself more than competent. But you would understand her hesitancy, seeing as this meeting was with corporate executives who, if you had to guess, possessed the majority of the world’s wealth.

“No, no,” Natasha nonchalantly waved her hand, “I trust you have that all under control.”

You let out a small sigh of relief before knitting your brows. “I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff, but then I can’t say I know why I am here.”

Natasha hummed as she stood up from the chair and made her way around the desk.

“I have a problem,” she revealed, as she sat on the edge of the desk and crossed her arms before lowering her voice, “with you.”

You nearly choked on your breath, your own anxiety choking you.

Seeing you were at a loss for words, Natasha continued, “Now don’t get me wrong, your work speaks for itself. I have no issues with the way you do your job. In fact, you are the best personal assistant I have ever had.”

Your eyes widened at Natasha’s rare compliment.

“Then what,” you cleared your throat in an attempt to rid the nerves from your voice, “what is the issue?”

“The issue is.” Natasha pushed herself off the desk and circled you as if you were her prey. When she hovered behind you, she bent down and whispered, “I don’t think I can remain professional any longer.”

You remained frozen, clenching your thighs together, as the feeling of your boss’s warm breath against your ear caused a tightness to coil in your lower abdomen.

Natasha smirked at your body’s reaction, before gently running her fingertips across your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their path.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” She brushed a loose strand of hair from your neck, exposing more of your skin. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

You should yell that this was outrageously inappropriate, that you really shouldn’t be doing this in the middle of the work day, that this violated every single one of HR’s rules.

But you didn’t; you couldn’t. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you wanted her.

Craning your neck, you turned your head to meet Natasha’s salacious gaze and nodded.

Natasha raised her brow, amused. “Use your words, doll.”

“I want you,” you husked.

“Oh, I know you do.” She gave you a smug grin, firmly cupping your chin while running her thumb over your bottom lip. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at me during meetings or the way you flaunt yourself around my office in those tight pant suits.

“Are you that desperate for attention, little one?”

“Only yours,” you panted, need bleeding through your voice.

“Good.” Natasha clicked her tongue, pleased by your answer, before guiding you to stand. “Now turn around.”

You obeyed and turned your back to her, gasping when Natasha gripped your hips and pushed you against the desk, her front pressed against you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” she growled as she pulled your hair, causing you to arch against her.

“Every time I see you and your wide doe eyes, so eager to please, so eager to be fucked,” Natasha nipped your neck, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth. At that moment, the redhead could not be more grateful for the soundproof walls of her office, “I want to bend you over my desk and give you what you want.”

"Yes, please,” you groaned, grinding your hips against her front, liquid arousal pooling in your stomach as you felt a bulge in Natasha’s slacks.

“Please what?” She kissed the corner of your mouth, as she nimbly worked her fingers to unbutton your pants, slowly sliding the waistband down.

“Fuck me,” you begged, “please.”

“So needy,” Natasha shoved her hand down the front of your black-laced panties, where she was instantly met with a desperate wetness.

“You are so wet, princess,” she teased, her fingers circling your clit slowly, “and I’ve barely even touched you.”

Before you could plead for more, Natasha plunged two digits into your heat, stifling your moan with a searing kiss.

Your tongues languidly danced together, fighting for dominance. Natasha quickly won that battle, simultaneously biting your bottom lip and curling her fingers deeper into your core.

“God, fuck,” you moaned as she pushed you down onto the desk so you were completely bent over at her will, your pants pooling at your ankles.

“Natasha is fine.” You could practically hear her smirk, but you were too far gone to say anything. All you could do was clench your walls around her fingers, silently asking for more.

Natasha added another finger as the heel of her palm rubbed your clit. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on.

“Be a good girl.” She leaned down and kissed the shell of your ear. “And come for me.”

“Natasha!” you cried out as you let the waves of pleasure crash over your body. Natasha kept her fingers in you, slowly pumping them in and out, as she gradually brought you down from your high.

As she finally slipped out of you, you whined at the loss. Natasha wrapped her arm around your chest, pulling you up and back against her.

“Taste.” She stuck her glistening fingers before your mouth, and you obeyed. Wrapping your lips around her digits, you stared directly into her eyes and swirled your tongue to taste your own pleasure.

Natasha’s eyes darkened at the action as you released her fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“You’re such an obedient assistant, aren’t you?” Natasha hummed, tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “I bet you’d do anything I asked, hm?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your shame long gone, as you submitted yourself completely to the other woman.

“Good.” She kissed the corner of your mouth before taking your hand in hers. “Now, come suck my strap.”

You stepped out of your pants, goosebumps rising up your legs as you were left only in your underwear and half-buttoned silk blouse.

As Natasha sat down in her chair, she pulled her own slacks down her thighs, revealing a decently sized strap-on, and your mouth watered at the sight. You lustfully eyed Natasha, who scooted her hips to the edge of the seat.

“Get on your knees for me, pretty girl,” the redhead directed as she worked to unbutton her shirt.

You sank to your knees in between Natasha’s legs, ignoring the harsh vinyl floor beneath you. Softly rubbing your hands up her thighs, you stared up at her and took the tip of the plastic cock in your mouth.

Natasha watched you with an intense gaze, her eyes unable to leave the sight of her strap-on slowly disappearing deep into your throat. As you bobbed your head up and down, coating the dildo with spit, Natasha groaned, throwing her head back.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” She took a fistful of your hair in her hand, controlling your pace. “I bet your pussy is just aching to be filled by my strap.”

You wantonly moaned and increased the pace of your movements, causing Natasha to hiss, as the strap-on rubbed against her clit.

Natasha tightened her grasp on your hair and tugged at your scalp, sending a shock of pleasure through your body at the brief moment of pain.

“Are you gonna let me fuck your mouth, princess?” She looked down at you, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Nodding slightly, you widened your mouth and relaxed your throat.

“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, as she brought her other hand to gently caress your cheek before firmly taking hold of the back of your head.

Natasha bucked her hips, hungrily chasing her own release. The squelching sound of the dildo plunging into your throat echoed around the office, as your eyes began to water.

“So good,” Natasha threw her head back, still rutting into your mouth. “So close.”

Feeling herself right at the peak, she thrust her hips up and pushed your head down, causing you to choke and lose your breath momentarily.

“Fuck!” she cried, her body stilling as her orgasm washed over her. Gasping, you released the strap from your mouth. You looked up at Natasha, who was also catching her breath.

“Come here.” Natasha softly hooked her finger under you chin. You stood from your kneeling position and moved in between her legs, leaning forward to meet her awaiting lips.

This time, Natasha kissed you with less urgency and more passion, as if she had all the time in the world.

“You did so well, milaya,” she cooed, the praise along with the Russian term causing your walls to clench around nothing. Natasha grinned, as she saw your thighs involuntarily clench together. “You want to ride me?”

Though she posed it as a question, you could tell there was little room for debate.

Nodding, you bit your lip and shrugged your shirt off your shoulders. You kept eye contact with Natasha as you slowly shimmied out of your ruined underwear.

The redhead followed your every move with blatant desire, gulping when she watched a string of wetness cling to the fabric as it fell down your legs.

Bracing yourself on the back of the chair, you straddled Natasha’s lap, hovering over the dildo.

“You are so perfect.” She kissed your exposed cleavage, biting your skin before soothing it with her tongue. “So perfect and so ready to be fucked.”

“Yes, Natasha,” you rested your forehead against hers as she teased your entrance with the strap-on, “please fuck me, take me, make me yours.”

“You’re mine,” Natasha growled, pulling your bottom lip between her teeth as she pushed the tip into your heat.

“Yours,” you sank down, the toy stretching your walls perfectly, and the two of you moaned in unison. Neither of you moved, allowing you to adjust to the size.

Slowly, you started to move, pulling another cacophony of sounds from the woman beneath you.

“Faster, (Y/N),” Natasha gritted through her teeth as she gripped your hips. “Ride my cock.”

You followed her commands and bounced up and down on her strap. Natasha eagerly bucked her hips up, matching your rhythm.

“Fuck, Nat,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as Natasha reached around you to unclasp your bra, allowing your breasts to bounce freely.

“That’s right.” She pinched your nipples between her fingers, causing you to let out to a guttural moan. “You’re such a good girl, riding me like the slut you are.”

“Nat,” you pleaded, feeling the coil tightening in your abdomen.

“Are you close, princess?”

You nodded with a whimper, grinding your hips down onto Natasha’s.

“Chase your pleasure,” she whispered, as she brought your forehead to meet hers.

You stared deeply into her eyes as you relentlessly rode the toy.

“I’m gonna come, Natasha,” you gasped, your breath hot against her lips.

“Not yet, darling,” she commanded, causing you to pout. Natasha slipped her hand between your bodies, her fingers ghosting over your clit. “I want us to come together.”

You let out a whine, your pace even more frantic than before, as Natasha began to rub tight circles against your bud.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” she grunted, her thrusts becoming sloppy. Pinching your clit, Natasha surged forward to kiss you, before mumbling against your lips, “Come with me, my good girl.”

You both cried out, pleasure overtaking your bodies at the same time. Melting into her embrace, you rested your head against her shoulder. The two of you basked in the post-coital silence, the toy still buried deep inside of you.

Remembering where you were, you lifted your head and tenderly smoothed Natasha’s disheveled hair.

“How was that?” You gave her an amused smirk.

“Perfect.” She grinned blissfully. “You were absolutely perfect.”

“Better than you imagined?"

“So much better, my love.” Natasha gently kissed you, her way of thanking you for fulfilling her fantasy. Though she knew you got just as much pleasure out of it as she did.

“Good,” you separated, pecking her lips once more before demounting from her lap.

“Where are you going?” she whined, removing the harness and tossing it aside as she watched you gather your clothes.

“James’s soccer practice is ending in twenty minutes, and I told him I would pick him up.” You fastened the buttons on your blouse before walking around the desk to where your pants were.

“Don’t we have a sitter for that?” Natasha joked, though you could tell she was still disappointed by your departure.

“We do.” You used the desk to balance yourself, as you slipped on your heels. “But I gave Kate the day off because I promised James I’d pick him up.”

“Fine,” Natasha stood up, pulling her own pants back up and buttoning up her shirt as she walked over to wrap her arms around your waist, “but I had other plans for us.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, straightening out her collar. “I was serious earlier about sending that slide deck over to you to review, if you want.”

“And I was also being serious earlier,” Natasha shot you a knowing wink, “I trust you have that all under control.”

“Good, because I do,” you smirked confidently.

“Best. CFO. Ever.” She emphasized each word with a kiss.

You preened at the praise, a slight blush tainting your cheeks. “Well, now I have to go be the best mom ever. Seriously, love, I have to go.”

“Alright,” Natasha relented, letting her hands fall from your hips.

“Don’t worry, we’ll finish what we started later,” you whispered, pecking the corner of her lips, as you slipped something in Natasha’s breast pocket. “I’ll see you at home, love.”

“Counting on it.”

You lightly patted her chest and winked, before making your way out of the office, making sure to close the door behind you.

After you left, Natasha cleaned up, ridding any evidence of your activities and reorganizing her desk. As she prepares to resume her work, powering on her desktop, Natasha feels something in her breast pocket.

Reaching into her pocket to retrieve whatever you put there earlier, she grinned at what she pulled out.

“Little minx,” Natasha chuckled, fiddling with your lacy black thong in her hand before tucking it back in her pocket.

Best. Wife. Ever.

#my writing #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut

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roseglazedlens · 8 months

Text

⦑ 𝐛𝐨𝐛𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⦒✶.*

pairing(s): leon kennedy x gn! reader synopsis: leon tries bubble tea for the first time, much to his reluctance (he likes it!) content: fluff, established relationship, rebecca chambers & chris redfield mentioned. « 1.4 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »

“How far is this place?” Leon lets out a heavy grunt, sight unbearable as the sharp sunrays glaring onto the scorching asphalt. Heat so nauseating it permeates through his clothing to form sweat at areas less desirable.

Leon would rather cuddle next to you at home right now, under the lulling breeze of the air conditioning. But you insisted– no matter the heat nor the distance, you must have your hands on this drink in this thickened fog of heat. It’s perplexing how you find space in your belly after such a hearty lunch today.

You loop both arms around his open elbow – propping up just for you to hold – as you flush your front onto his sides. Partial bribery, partial gratitude for joining you on this conquest despite the harsh weather conditions.

Leon lands his gaze on you – your lashes flutter, body fidget closer. There is no way he can deny you now. That you know and took full advantage of every single time. He groans in defeat, tilting his torso back as if to heave the weight of his well-satiated belly.

“What is this bubble tea? And why do you like it so much?” You call it a bubble tea, but he calls this concoction a monstrosity. Leon will never understand how one can make a drink already perfect imperfect?

“Oh, Leon. I’m about to show you a whole new world.” You spin your heels, skipping a little in the firm grip of his arms.

“I’m surprised you still have an appetite.” Leon’s tone sounds faintly like a jab.

“There’s always room for bubble tea.” He suspects you say this motto often with the way the words uttered so instantly.

Leon grumbles Rebecca’s name underneath his breath. Since you discovered it from Rebecca’s introduction, this supposed ‘habit’ soon evolved closer to an obsession. Replacing your usual coffee order with a tall plastic cup of milk tea. With how Rebecca sweetens her coffee, whatever she recommends can’t be good for you.

“I don’t think I want bubbles in my tea.” Leon tightens his lips.

“It’s not real bubbles, Lee.” You chuckle as you run your hands along his arms. “You’ll love it, trust me!”

Hand in hand with yours, Leon follows your footsteps into a slender laneway, shying away from rows of corporate office on the main street. Red lanterns hang high, adorn by banners of words you can’t read. You find familiar merchants chant a series of today’s sales across the street, hubbub of both young and old, nesting the air in this hidden away part of town. Even during a weekday, Chinatown is busy – endearingly so.

You approach a humble corner shop you often frequent. Walking up the front of the counter with one confident stride, only taking a step back at the realisation of your confused boyfriend.

Nudging at Leon’s elbow, you point at the signage that displays their extensive list of flavours, options and customisations. “Get the winter melon milk tea with extra boba.”

“Get your own.” He scoffs at your audacity.

“I want mango. But I also wanna try the winter melon tea.” You cling onto his arm, flushing your body onto his. Puffed cheeks, downturned eyebrows – you know he can’t say no. Leon can’t ever say no to you when you do that face.

“So I’m your experiment.” He sighs underneath his breath, but his countenance softens when he sees your toothy smile as the line moves forward. “What does winter melon taste like, anyway?”

“I dunno. That’s why you’re trying it for me.”

Before he can protest, it’s your turn to order. You face the register, shuffling out your membership card from your bag to beep it in front of the scanner.

“What would you two like to have?”

“One winter melon boba milk tea and one mango green tea...” Leon glances over the size options. “Medium, please.”

“Mini boba or standard boba?” The cashier fiddles with the system before them.

Leon pauses, contemplating out loud. “What does that mean?”

“What size boba do you want?” They repeat once more, gesturing to the list of toppings which puzzles him even more.

“Standard, thanks. Whatever it means.” A prompt nod, buttons are pressed. “Ice and sugar levels?”

“Standard everything.” Leon tries to sound calm, but the words escaped with a snapping edge.

Leon makes his payment, frustrated by the entire experience, but it all the more teases a giggle out of you to see the usual composed Leon fluster over ordering a simple drink. The barista calls out your number. You two occupy an empty table, drinks in hand.

The drink sits before Leon, black beads declining to the bottom, tall cup sealed with a plastic film – Leon has seen you do this a few times. He should know what to do. Leon lines the straw on top of the film, with a small burst, puncture the film through the pointy end. The other hand grips the cup a tad too firm, the impact splashing the tea from the puncture all over his hand.

Your laughter bursts at the sight – chuckling so hard that Leon is asking for napkins from the front counter, hands still a dripping mess. He hates you for it – just a little though – for not warning him.

“That went well.” He grumbles, wiping off the droplets from his fingers with the white napkin.

“It’s okay – I've been there, done that.” You repeat his motions, thrusting your straw in your drink with practiced ease before taking a generous sip. You rummage your phone out of your pocket, pointing the lens directly at him.

“What?” Leon fiddles with the straw, swirling the substance under his fingertips.

“Go on.” You tilt your head in encouragement. “Take a sip.”

“I can’t drink if you’re recording me like this.” He broods on the words slightly.

“Drink!” You demand out of impatience, waving your hands more exaggeratedly.

Leon gazes inside the straw, the thick pipe designed for easier travel of any toppings within. He is hesitant, especially with you watching intently at his every movement and reaction. He hopes you never send this video to Chris; Leon will never recover from the embarrassment if so.

“Here goes nothing.” With a deep breath, Leon sucks the liquid from the straw.

The liquid makes contact first: a blend of tea and sugary syrups complementing each other; the dew of wintermelon arousing a soft sweetness that is easy to consume and just as addictive. Flavourful, but not overwhelming so. Suddenly, something round and slimy enters his mouth through the pipe.

Leon winces, taken aback. Bites on it to find it chewy. Then swallows. Doesn’t taste like anything in particular.

“What are these made of?”

“Those are tapioca, it’s nice and chewy isn’t it?”

Leon nods, taking another sip, savouring the taste of all the flavours combined. With how invested he is sipping his drink, you can’t help but smile as the levels goes down steadily. He notices you staring.

“Do you… want to try?” He takes the straw out of his mouth, passing it over to you.

You light up, moving in so quickly it almost shove him aside. Sorry Leon, you should have known that your love for bubble tea is above your love for him.

“Is this what wintermelon tastes like? I love it!” You take a sip. Leon tries your drink, nodding in approval before moving your cup back to you. But you don’t, instead, with an almost guilty tone, said: “Do you wanna... swap?”

“Nice try – but no. You made your choice, stick with it.” Leon scoffs, removing his drink off your hands, which leads you to pout miserably.

After Leon's signal, you two leave the shop. Leon takes you to all the shops you want to visit – and you find your gaze trailing to his drink that is going down much faster than yours.

“So… what do you think about the tea?” You ask, hoping to get any kind of admittance on how this drink isn’t so bad after all.

“It’s okay… I don’t mind it.” Leon keeps his praise short, feigning playful stubbornness.

You see through him immediately, lighting up, before stealing another sip from his. “Back here again tomorrow?”

Leon’s lips upturned into a smile, but he lets you take another sip – which he will regret later, with how fast you’re consuming. His hand places gently on your head. Shaking his head in disbelief, fully aware that he is powerless against you – and you are likely to make a return trip together. Anything to make you happy.

“Get your self together, sugar addict.”

i was tempted to make reader chinese poc since i'm chinese myself, but didn't to make reader more relatable haha (missed opportunity tho)i'm sorry for making ur bf order at the counter (ordering bubble tea for the first time is so daunting) also! thank you @sporeghost for beta reading this & literally held my hand through a few sentences, especially 2nd last line, it's not mine!! thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @sporeghost @daydreamrot (pm me for tags)© roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy drabble #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #re4 leon #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x you #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff

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sprout-fics · 1 year

Note

request for ghost 👀 ghost x medic!reader that is basically the opposite of him. super gentle and docile, they’re the sunshine of the team (affectionately named by Soap). ghost is infatuated but refuses to believe someone as good hearted as them could ever be interested in him. like he feels like he’s not good enough for reader but reader is scared of rejection so they also don’t say anything. basically two idiots in love pining for each other

Sunshine (Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN! Reader)

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Explicit mention of murder, blood, and injuries, I have not played any of the games so if Ghost is OOC then shoot me I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary:

“Sunshine” They called you. It was a bit of a misnomer, all things considered. While your sweet, gentle personality was quietly adored off the field, your laser focus and scorching gaze locked that part of you away on mission. Soap had teased you once in the early days as you stitched his arm in a safehouse, saying you had the sweetest, gentlest touch on a medic he’d ever felt.

“Feels like fuckin’ sunshine, corporal.” He slurred, heavy off painkillers as you tended to the bullet in his shoulder. “Best hands I’ve ever had on me.”

You had given him a sharp pinch for the innuendo, but the nickname had stuck anyways.

It had taken some time to earn the trust of the group. They had been burned one too many times to take in a new member without a healthy amount of suspicion. It was only after you had managed to patch them up half a dozen times each that they grew accustomed to your steady, reaffirming presence.

Most of them, at least.

Ghost was a quiet one, living up to his name as he lingered in the shadows, haunting like a specter at the corner of every scene. When he spoke, it was only to issue orders, to patch into the comms and relay intel. Like a wraith, his broad form occupied the corner of your mind, his voice a rough hard scrape like soot against your fingertips. His eyes watched you from afar, deadly, precise, ever true to his aim.

You never see his face.

“Don’t worry, he’s just got a bad chin.” Soap whispers conspiratorially to you as you both lay low over a rooftop that looks over your target. “Like one of those goddamn Hapsburg royals.”

“I doubt that.” You snort, eyes never leaving your scope.

Still, you do wonder sometimes. You can’t help it. There’s something inside you that gravitates towards him like being pulled in by a black hole. The very presence of him draws your eyes to his, dark, unflinching, cold. Sometimes you feel like he can see straight through you, as transparent as a phantom.

“Sunshine, on me.” He barks, and damn if you two don’t make quite the duo- bright sunlight and a dead man walking.

The only times you get glimpses of him are when he’s injured, which is rare. You pull up his sleeve to reveal his forearm, thick, muscular, veiny. For a moment you want to trace your fingers over it, nails scraping against the dark ink in contrast to his skin- a skull.

Ghost’s eyes never leave you as you work, and you don’t notice the way his gaze lingers over your lips, your lashes.

You talk to him as you clean the cut- a sharp slice of a knife from a terrorist who got too close. He had been a step to your left, and you had raised your gun but Ghost had gotten him first. You didn’t even realize the hulking soldier was in your shadow until his knife was buried into the man’s neck and a curse tore from his throat at the blade lodged in his own arm.

The blood drips red across your gloved fingers as you try to distract him from the pain, and yourself from the strange flutter that echoes low in your stomach. Inside, you try to quell whatever this is- this want, this need inside you for him to be even closer, to hear his voice whisper across your skin.

Your nimble fingers work over the wound, neatly gathering the edges. It’ll leave a scar, and you wonder for a moment just how many he has, exactly. What are the stories that tie them to his flesh? The history woven into the sinew of his muscles?

“I’m sorry.” You offer, and your voice is quiet somehow, unable to fill the scant space between you. Sorry that you had been too slow, sorry he had gotten hurt as a result, sorry for having feelings despite yourself.

“…It’s fine.” The Lieutenant offers after several long heartbeats. “I’m fine.”

It’s not fine, not really, but you accept his words regardless.

“Thank you.” Ghost manages after you’re done, and his voice is uncharacteristically subdued. His eyes avert from you, as if he doesn’t want to meet your gaze. That shiver inside you swoops low with uncertainty at his hesitation, but before you can part your lips to speak he’s gone as if he was never there at all.

---

It’s only after a close call that is far too close that things change.

The sniper catches you by surprise, having managed to circle around your group and catch you from behind. The bullet goes straight through your shoulder, and if you hadn’t turned to listen to Price just a millisecond prior you know it would have been through your skull. The impact topples you forward onto the rubbled concrete below you, and the world is spinning, ringing as Price is shouting orders seconds before the rapid pop of gunfire erupts around you.

“Sunshine!!”

You try to stand, to reach for your weapon but it feels like your lungs are caught between a hydraulic press. There’s blood splattered across the ground under your hands and it blurs as your vision tries to right itself from the pain. Someone is calling your name but it sounds like it's coming through water, garbled and distant.

The world around you shifts abruptly, tilting on its axis as a pair of thick cut arms lifts you like you’re no heavier than a sack of flour. Hands reach across you, removing the strap of your rifle from your form and you catch a glimpse of the blood that’s soaked through it, dark and glistening.

“Got ‘em.” A voice gravels next to your ear, and it takes you more than one second to realize its Ghost who’s got you slung over his bulking shoulders, his gear digging into your ribcage as you wheeze and try to ground yourself against the nauseating wave of pain that bubbles up your throat, thick and red.

“Go!” Price barks, and you dimly are aware of the fact that he sounds oddly afraid. “We’ll cover you.”

The world is jostling, turning, shifting, and the sudden dizziness of it all crashes over you as your vision turns black.

---

The next hour comes in flashes of black and red, and you learn later that the bullet narrowly missed an artery- a fatal blow. Your entire left side is soaked in blood by the time you wake, but you’re alive, drowsy, laying down on a cleared off table at the safe house with the dusty kitchen light shining brightly down on you.

You hiss at the brightness and try to move to press a hand to the wound, only for an iron-rod grip to settle your wrist back onto the flat surface under you.

“Don’t.”

You blink for a few moments, turning your head to meet the white skull mask next to you. The lieutenant looks comically too large for the chair he’s sitting in, and with his size his gaze is still above you, gazing down with that unblinking stare

“You lost a lot of blood.” Ghost relays calmly, his grip still on your wrist. It’s nice, the warmth of his hand spilling through his glove onto your clammy skin. “Thought we lost you.”

There’s a tenderness in his voice that surprises you, and you can’t tell if it’s the painkillers helping you imagine it. The fact that he’s sitting here, with you, instead of with the voices that filter in from the other room, should tell you something. Your senses are too cloudy, heavy and weighed down by whatever they gave you for the pain.

“ ‘M not dead.” You manage, voice a hard scrape in your throat. “It’ll take more than that to make me a ghost.”

Maybe it’s the painkiller after all, but you swear you hear him chuckle.

---

You’re haunted after that.

Ghost’s figure is too large for your own shadow, but he stays there nonetheless, dark and omnipresent like a curse. In some ways it is. The constant presence of him forces you to constantly push down that flutter in your stomach, to make sure your eyes don’t linger on his for too long, to not say his name like the soft sigh that it is in your heart. You catch his eyes and feel a rush of warmth creep up your neck under your gear, feel the phantom of his touch skim across your wrist.

You’ve fallen for him.

Fuck.

That itself is not a problem- well, it is, but not as bad as the issue it presents. You can’t say anything. He’s your superior, you’re part of his team, and there are clear boundaries that can’t be crossed in wartime.

More than that though, is the fact that he probably doesn’t feel the same. Ghost has never mentioned anything about romance, even to Soap, who he seems closest with. When you had gently queried the sergeant for intel on the topic he had merely looked at you as if you expected him to know the secret of the afterlife itself. You count your blessings that Soap is dense when it comes to that sort of topic, otherwise he’d be pestering you for weeks about your little secret.

So, you try to contain it, this infatuation of yours, spoon feeding yourself lies about how it’ll pass, how it’s just a phase, that you two were never meant to be. It’s difficult to do just that when he’s always there, crowding into your space like your own personal attack dog, wordlessly present at all times. His eyes trace you as you pass, and you feel the chill of them carve into your bones and leave you trembling and weak.

It's fine, I’m fine. You tell yourself, more than once a day at this point, forcing down the rush of warmth when your eyes meet, when you hear his voice speak your name, when you feel him right fucking behind you.

On top of it all, Ghost starts putting you in the backseat, starts holding you from rooms until they’ve been cleared, and starts treating you like a goddamn rookie. The part of you that is hopeless over him thinks at first he’s being overprotective, watching your six and making sure there will never be a repeat of the incident that nearly cost you your life. You know better than that though, know that Ghost likely doesn’t have feelings for you, that he’s putting you on the back burner deliberately to teach you a lesson over not paying attention- and that pisses you right off.

It takes a while but you manage to corner him back at base after a successful mission where you all but sat on your ass the entire time while he and Price took the lead. You find him lurking in a back hallway, and you can’t contain your uncharacteristic anger as you stride up to him, plant your hands on either side of him on the wall and gaze furiously up at his masked face.

“What.” You grit. “-the fuck was that?!”

Ghost, for what he’s worth, actually looks surprised. The expression is foreign to you, his eyes usually cold and dead, calculating and precise. He stiffens, and even though you barely reach his collarbone with just how gigantic he is, manages to look like he’s actually a bit apprehensive of your stance towards him. In any other situation it would be borderline comical, with how you’re trying to physically intimidate a man much, much larger than yourself, with your arms barely able to box him in on either side.

“Watch your tone corporal.” He replies at last, and there’s a warning in his voice you don’t heed.

“Not until you tell me exactly why you’ve decided to treat me like I don’t know which end of the gun to shoot with.” You snap back, and the look your words earn you is chill inducing. Even so you don’t back down. “You have me being baby-sat during these missions like you can’t trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

The words spill out before he can catch them, and the confession has you both startled and blinking at each other wide-eyed. You feel shock spill across your chest, electric and dazzling for all of a moment. You aren’t surprised at the fact that Ghost trusts you, it’s the fact that he went so far as to say it out loud, voicing a rare instance of his inner thoughts to you in your confusion.

“Then why?” You ask, and you hate the way your voice sounds almost desperate, pleading for an answer.

Ghost stiffens, and you feel his muscles ripple as they brush against you.

“…I couldn’t have you injured again.” He speaks at last, and you know he’s trying to school his voice into a cold indifference, but you can hear the little note of shame there, of guilt.

“I’m going to get injured no matter what. That’s the job.” You point out, unable to contain the bite from your words.

“No.” Ghost manages, and his voice is tight, choked. “Not like that.”

You blink up at him, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in his voice, the way he seems to almost be pleading with you.

Yet your entire world screeches to a halt at his next words.

“Because it’s you.”

Your heart beats against your chest like a trapped bird, and suddenly you’re stumbling back from him, back braced against the opposite wall of the hallway as you try to reconcile his words with reality.

Because it’s you.

“Why…why didn’t you say anything?” You croak, hands coming up to your face to massage your temples. “All this time, you…you didn’t say anything.”

Ghost shifts where he stands, and you know him well enough at this point that he’s fighting the urge to walk away, to blend into the shadow and pretend like this conversation never happened.

“You don’t feel the same.” He says bluntly, voice detached and empty as he braces for what he thinks is your inevitable rejection. “And even if you did, I…don’t deserve someone like you.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, and you shiver at what you find there. Hurt, longing, desire dark and deep and barely tamed.

“You-“ Ghost manages, and you can feel the discomfort radiating off of him, this brute man built like a tank but taken down by a few tender words. “You’re too good, sunshine.”

Slowly, the pieces fit together, like skin mended together by the seam of a stitch.

He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, bright and radiant as you are. You’re sunshine and he’s Ghost, he’s shadows and darkness and blood and the whisper of death with every bullet. He’s afraid that if he even touches you he’ll dye you dark at the seams, stifle that brightness within you.

He doesn’t know that light illuminates the darkness.

“Ghost.” You manage at last, and there’s a laugh on your lips, sweet and bitter all at once. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

You yank him down and kiss him through his mask, and something radiant glows inside you both.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ask box #requests #oneshots

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starillusion13 · 3 months

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BETTER THAN GOLD (TEASER)

Synopsis: Taeyong cleared his throat, “your dad will be fine but you. The princess needs to face the consequences.”

Every good thing comes with a price.

Pairing:Taeyong x Doyoung x Jaehyun x f!reader

Genre: Angst, Business, Romance, Smut

W/c: not yet

Warnings: mention of drinking and smoking, poor and rich, name calling. Rest warnings will be later in the original plot.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

you are different from them. There’s nothing common between you and them. They should hangout with each other but you are not allowed there. You are being told repeatedly that they are like the royals and you are just a commoner. But why though? Can’t you be friends with them? You didn’t mind the rich and poor before you met them but now you envy them. They get every single respect and recognition unlike you who is under shadows.

Shadows of them.

It all started when your father moved to this new city because he told you that this new place would be a better place for his job opportunities. You and your mother were really happy for this and it gave you hope that the future ahead of you would be a better one. Your family doesn’t need to be in poverty anymore and your days of struggle will be over. You will be living a happy life with no worry and regrets.

But you forgot one thing people said.

Everything comes with a price. If one problem gets solved then another problem rises up.

Your dad got invited to a grand hotel from his new workplace and you wondered how is he being treated like this. You are not complaining but getting surprised. You have never been to such grand and luxurious places before and deep down you are excited and wondering what it would be like to experience such things.

Will you be considered rich or you are still being treated as low class?

“Dad…”

He hummed while tightening his belt around his waist and looked at you through the mirror. He sent you a warm smile and you returned the gesture.

“Isn’t it suspicious that they are inviting you to this place when you are not even a part of the project team.”

“Y/n… I have told you that they are my friends and they are just helping me. Why are you so suspicious of them. We are having such a good life because of them and we should be grateful.” Your dad stated and turned towards you.

You nodded but still you are a bit hesitant to go to this place because of a foreign feeling lingering on your skin. You always trust your dad and if he was telling you to not think about it then you should not.

“I have never been to such places.” You whispered under your breath but your father chuckled on hearing you.

He walked towards you and sat beside you, “come on my child. Cheer up. If you have never been then atleast now you are able to attend such parties. Everything will be fine. Promise.”

Promise…

“Okay.” You and your dad smiled towards each each other.

“Hello Mr. Kang, Welcome to the party. I hope you have arrived safely and have you brought your daughter?” Mr. Kim greeted and your dad nudged you to come closer.

You were already anxious about the situation because of the grand spacious hall with richness and lavishness radiating everywhere even the dirts under the shoes and all the stares from people surrounding you.

You smiled and bowed towards thim, “Hello, myself Kang Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

Two other men also joined the scene and they had the same cheerful expression on their faces. Their welcoming gestures were calming your nervousness.

The other two also introduced themselves as Mr. Lee and Mr. Jung.

The three of your father’s friends had one attraction in common. Richness. The expensive suits and their great businessman aura was radiating off from them and your dad was looking like a mere corporate worker in front of them. But friends don’t let their money to come between their friendship and you should be grateful that wherever you are today, it’s because of them.

They studied in same school, they had same childhood then why your dad was the only one to suffer. It’s because he was greedy and he ran after money without working hard. But they chose patience and day by day they earned their position like this. Your dad has now learned the lesson. But are they same like before? They will still consider your dad to be that friend when they had nothing. Right?

“Hey dad…I was going upstairs and we won’t be eating here… And who is he?”

“Hey Kang, meet my son Lee Taeyong. And son this is my childhood friend I told you about, Mr. Kang.” Mr. Lee stood up from his chair from around the round table and came behind his son, patting his back he gestured him to bow.

His son rolled his eyes but still bowed to your dad in a bored expression. Your dad smiled but you didn’t. Your curious eyes watching his movements.

Rude.

His eyes locked with yours and you were expecting his bored eyes but the corner of his lips curled up. The sharp facial features were reflecting the expensive light and texture of the hall. His smooth skin and piercing eyes with the sharp jaw was a perfect combination for the grand name: LEE TAEYONG.

“Who is she?” He pointed towards you.

You were surprised that he even asked about you. You were trying to be out of spotlight but still he noticed you. Nothing. Just because you were sitting beside the man to whom his father introduced him.

“She is Mr. Kang’s daughter. Your new best friend.”

He chuckled and then laughed before glaring at you, “I don’t even know her and she is not even my friend and you are already referring her as my best friend? No way you are being serious, dad.”

“Don’t say like this. They are our guest. He is my bestfriend. Like the way you are friends with them, I hope you can be friends with her too.”

Like the way you are friends with them, you can be friends with her too.

Mr. Lee was serious and his son poked inside of the cheek with his tongue. He was annoyed but with whom.

Mr. Jung spoke up, “hey Taeyong, she is getting bored here among the dad talks so it’s better to take her upstairs with you all, I hope you all will get along well.”

Get along well with him? No way.

Mr. Kim nodded in agreement and Mr. Lee excitedly glanced at his son. His son was about to argue but his father’s stare made him shut.

Mr. Kim called you closer to Taeyong and with small steps, you stood beside him and gulped down the anger.

Did he despise you so much because you are not rich like him?

Taeyong extended his hand but as soon as you reached your hand to hold it, he smirked before pulling it to himself and said, “oh princess. I’m not here to escort you. Remember your place. You are just here because of my dad and I’m showing you the way to where we have to go.”

No one could hear him because others were already at the table and the music was atleast loud enough to make his low heavy voice inaudible to other people around him.

You just wanted to punch him but you curled your fingers into a fist by your side. He didn’t wait to see your glares but already started walking towards the fancy stairs. You were hesitating and thinking to go back to the table. But you didn’t want to give excuses to them and to have them a different impression of your dad.

Reaching a green door, he didn’t even knock but pushed open it. He looked back and gestured you with his head to enter the room. His tilted head and tongue licking the lips with the black hairs falling over his eyes was screaming at you, the most perfect man you have ever seen.

As soon as you stepped inside, the room had a strong smell of smoke and alcohol. You wanted to puke but just gulped the lump.

“What are you doing here?”

You got startled by the sudden voice and looked towards the side to see one man sitting on a sofa scrolling through the phone with a cigarette between his fingers. Everytime he was blowing in, the dimples were pointing out on his handsome face. Beside him, the one with wide eyes and a wine bottle in his hand staring at you. The one who questioned you.

“I have asked you something. No one is allowed here so get out.”

“I-i’m here—“

“Meet our little friend. Miss Kang Y/n.”

Friend? Huh!

The one who was smoking also looked up from his phone and all the stares from three of them was overwhelming you.

You started picking your nails and your hands got swatted away by the one who was smoking, he glared at you and threw the cigarette away. He was so tall that he was towering over you. You were feeling intimidated under their gaze but still you were doing your best to stray strong.

“Don’t do that. It can cause infections.”

You nodded, “it’s okay. It’s just—“

“Don’t think that I’m caring for you. We don’t want to get sick because of you.”he harshly replied before scanning you up and down.

“Oh come on. Be nice with her. Our dad told us to get along with her or this princess would complain about us to her dear daddy. Poor daddy. Can he buy a handkerchief to wipe off your tears?” Taeyong had a wide smirk across his face.

You had enough.

“Well it’s good that my dad is poor and not rich like yours. Maybe We live in poverty but atleast we have better manners and respect for others unlike you who are blinded by luxury. Actually you all can’t even differ between love and money. Emotional feelings and materialistic satisfaction are two different things. But you can’t see the real emotions because of material emotions. You all have an artificial soul built by the expenses and royalty.”

The one who was still drinking at the sofa laughed out loud. The smoker was staring down at you and Taeyong folding his hands beside you was now glaring at you.

“Do you have angel eyes to see all these? Don’t think that if you were rich then you wouldn’t have been like this. You can’t even know the air we breath because you can’t even be in our place ever. This No.1 company in this city was built by our dads, I’m the son of Mr. Kim. Everybody knows me here, Kim Doyoung and everybody looks up to me.”

The named Doyoung glared at you in the end before chugging down some alcohol.

“If you go downstairs and say my name Jung Jaehyun. Then you can see all the ladies will turn their heads to get a glimpse of me. Everyone try to marry off their daughter to me so that they can have my dad Mr. Jung as their business partner and their daughters would be happy to marry their dream guy.”

Jaehyun smirked in the end and leaned to the wall near him.

Finally Taeyong spoke up as if he was waiting for the chance, “Nothing can be more valuable than money, princess. Status can change everything. The facade of innocence that you have will be ripped off the day you will sit on the throne. But fake princesses don’t get the royalty. Only the gold ones get it.”

You scoffed and glared at each one of them.

“I would rather be a person with good morals, good reputation with others, instead of with rich material things which can be here today and gone tomorrow. Riches cannot buy you true love or true lasting happiness.”

“Riches can buy us everything, Y/n.”

Hearing your name from Taeyong shifted something inside you as if you were in a trance earlier. You licked your lips.

“If those riches can buy me true love and happiness then It’s better than gold.”you stared at them.

“Do you think you are better than gold?” Jaehyun asked you.

“Yes I am.”

You turned on your heels and bumped Taeyong’s side, you knew it would make him annoyed and it did.

Doyoung shouted, “where are you going?”

“You only said earlier that no one is allowed here then I should assume that I am un-welcomed. And if you want to take revenge for this like whatever I have said and made you angry with pointing at your attitudes then show it on me. Don’t do anything to my dad.”

Doyoung leaned back and smirked, “are you scared? Oh wait are you requesting something to me, to us? I really can’t hear you.”

You cursed under your breath because that earlier the rush of adrenaline made you lose your temper but you didn’t think of your dad at the time that it could harm your dad’s situation. They might can do any conspiracy to kick your dad out from the job.

“Oh the angel is silent now. Who was being so strong a few moments earlier?” Jaehyun’s mocking voice earning laughs from the other two and your tears were threatening to fall.

The sweet names ‘Angel’, ‘Princess’ are so lovable to be greeted by but they were calling out to you in mockery. They were having fun because you were having happy life at their mercy.

Taeyong cleared his throat, “your dad will be fine but you. The princess needs to face the consequences.”

Every good thing comes with a price.

COMING SOON…

Better Than Gold Masterlist

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Pt. 3

Pt. 4

Pt. 5

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @sexygrass @minkyuncutie @loveforred [open! ask/reply/dm]

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biaonww · 3 months

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"11:58 pm" reo mikage based • angst with... (hehe yall can guess for this one)

may contain errors, similar content is coincidental.

five years together, huh?

it was your anniversary today, with reo. you gave so much effort to get ready, setting the table, and cooking all his favorite foods.

but no, he did not come.

instead of him coming home, to be with you, his fiancè — there was a picture of him circulating on twitter, that he was caught holding another woman’s hand in public.

after that seeing that, you grip your phone tightly. all teary eyed, looking at the ring he bought you. i mean, what happened to loyalty? to trust? you have been here with him with all his hardships — his family, soccer, hell. even his relation with nagi.

it just made you want to rot inside. a five year relation, just to lose this after knowing some random lady at a party?

but then again, what were you to do? he was rich, of course everyone would want him. but you never considered loving his wealth, you loved him. his whole entire being, you have loved devotedly.

you decide to get up, packing your things in some random duffel bag. but you get interrupted by the sound of the door — it was reo.

“it’s 11:58 pm.”

“you said you’d come home by 6.”

“love, let me explain—“

you turn to look at him, sobbing.

“explain?! explain that you were cheating on me?!”

“yes, it may be that. but you know i love you!”

“love me? really? but you chose to hold some random woman’s hand, than going home to celebrate our anniversary?!”

“you can have this stupid ring back. give it to her instead, since that’s what you want to lose our relation to.”

“don’t you dare remove that ring y/n.”

you look at him, daringly removing the engagement ring.

“why not? i’m still here, but you aren’t explaining anything. so that does mean our relation isn’t important to yo-“

“no, it is! i may have spend one night with her, because i was stressed with work— the corporation. okay?!”

“then why won’t you tell me?! i’m here for you! you know that, and i always have been!”

“i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d leave. and it feels like words are stuck in my throat.”

“but that— that’s no excuse to cheat.”

you look at reo, a sobbing mess.

“i know that.”

he says in a soft tone, and slowly goes towards you, and wrap his arms around your waist. he lifts one of his hands to your face, wiping your tears. he always thought you looked so beautiful, but not in this way. especially since he was the one that hurt you.

the one that caused you to cry.

“please, forgive me. give me one more chance to prove myself to you. i’ll work on myself, and if i mess up, you can cut all ties with me.”

you nod hesitantly, crying on his shoulder while hugging him tightly.

surprisingly, he did change. it may have took you some time to let him gain your trust again, but it was worth it.

he expressed himself more, took you out on dates more like you deserved to, comforted and loved you in the right way.

sure, there were still some ups and downs in your relation.

but after standing with him in the alter alongside the priest right now, and him looking at you as if he adored you in so many ways…

you knew it wasn’t important to think about in that moment.

because no human being is perfect. and also because he is the one you love. the man you envision your whole life with, the one you will be with til death do you two apart.

“i do. i want him to be my husband.”

— fin.

alt ending for the angst lovers <3 three months past… but he still never goes back to home early.

there was a recent article posted exactly on 9:26 pm, that the woman he met a few months ago had a ring on her finger. similiar to the engagement ring you and reo have.

a coincidence? no. you knew it wasn’t.

you were just deluding yourself, because you wanted to cling onto this sick love you and him have.

so you decide to pack your things, and leave that same night you found out.

because a cheater, is always an cheater, right?

reo comes home to the penthouse he and you owned. it lost all the warmth it had. the smell of your perfume wasn’t present anymore, your fluffy slippers you used wasn’t present as well.

all your things was gone. your pictures with him were missing—and more.

and the promise ring he gave to you was placed on the dining table. it still had that same bling it had,

but it always seemed to shine more when you wore it.

… but he knew. that he was too late. because he knew you’d never come back to him.

once a fragile gem breaks, it can never be glued back together.

— fin.

i made a special ending for this !! so i hope it's good <3 reblogs, follows and likes are very appreciated :) rin fic might come out tmr!! i think, if i don't get busy that is!!

#reo mikage angst #reo mikage fluff #reo mikage #mikage reo #bllk x reader #reo mikage x you #reo mikage x reader #blue lock #bllk angst #bllk fluff #bllk x you #bllk #blue lock imagines #bluelock #blue lock x reader

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dodje-melai · 4 months

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Can we talk about how fucking sweet Hobie would be in a relationship?

He’d treat you so well every single moment he’s with you. He’d never treat you bad and would always make sure you feel appreciated and wanted.

You guys probably wouldn’t have an official title to your relationship because Hobie “doesn’t believe in labels” (he’s joking when he says that), but everyone who knows you knows that you two are basically dating. However, if it matters to you about putting a label on your relationship with him, he’d be totally cool with doing that. He wouldn’t mind you calling him your partner publicly, and he’d love to do the same with you.

“I don’t mind puttin’ a label on us, luv. Whateva makes ya happy.”

Hobie would treat you almost daily with handmade gifts, or gifts he bought from a small family-owned shop, or something he just stole from a corporate-owned store if it’s something you really really want. He’d also treat you by taking you out, mainly to cool places that he’s found while swinging around. He’d also take you out to concerts by either stealing tickets or sneaking you in.

“‘Ey doll, got us sum tickets to a band ya like.”

“What? Hobie, these tickets are crazy expensive! How the hell did you buy these?”

“I ain’t ever said I bought ‘em.”

And sometimes, if he thinks you’re tough enough for it and you’re willing to go, he’ll take you to riots with him. He’d hold your hand or your hip or just anywhere he can so that he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. He makes sure that nothing bad happens to you, which his spidey sense makes it easier for him to do so. Though if you were to somehow get hurt he’d feel guilty for letting that happen, and he’d patch you up and make sure you heal properly.

“Hobie, I’m fine. I just scraped my knee—“

“I don’t want ya gettin’ an infection, dove. The road’s dirty. Now quit squirmin’, I’m tryna disinfect it.”

Aside from gift giving and quality time, Hobie’s other love language is physical touch. He loves to hold you, kiss you, touch you, anything that involves being close to you. He’ll hold your hand or your hip while walking, and he’ll either hold your waist or slip his hand into your back pocket while you’re standing together. If you’re sitting, he’ll always have his hand on your thigh. Always. Sometimes he’ll even try to sit you on his lap if he wants to be extra close to you.

“Mm… c’mere babes, I wanna be closer to ya.”

“Hobie, I’m literally sitting on top of you. I can’t get any closer.”

“Yes ya can, you’re just not tryin’ hard enough.”

I think a very important aspect of being in a relationship with Hobie would be effective communication. Yes that’s important in all relationships, but it’s extremely important for him especially. He always wants to be aware of what’s too much for you so that he doesn’t cross any boundaries, and if he did, he wants you to feel comfortable enough to tell him what he did. He hates the thought of miscommunication ruining your relationship.

“Darlin’, I can tell somethin’ is wrong. Ya can tell me anythin’, ya know that yeah?”

Hobie is undoubtedly a very loyal partner. He would never even think of cheating on you. You’re practically his everything at this point. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you; it doesn’t matter how he loses you, any way would be devastating. In turn, he trusts that you are very loyal too. He knows that you’d never cheat on him or flirt with someone else. Why would he date you if he didn’t trust you?

“Ya know I trust ya mo’ than anyone, yeah?”

Hobie doesn’t get jealous or overly possessive. He knows you’re his, there’s no need to consistently flaunt that. Besides, it’s fun watching you tell people that are flirting with you that you’re not single. But if some bastard wants to keep flirting with you after you’ve made it clear that you’re taken and uninterested, then he’ll step in and put that bastard in their place.

“Oi, fuck off mate. They ain’t interested in you.”

Something important about Hobie is that he’ll never lie to you. He keeps secrets, but if you find out about something and confront him about it, he’ll tell you the truth. Even if the secret you found out is that he’s Spider-Man.

“Hobie, this is a serious question, so I need you to tell me the truth. Are you really, genuinely Spider-Man?”

“Yep, I am. You’re a smart one, dove. How much snoopin’ have you been doin’ lately?”

“…I swear to god if you’re messing with me right now I will punt you.”

“Not jokin’. I’m a hundred percent serious, especially ‘bout ya bein’ very smart.”

Basically I think being his partner would be nice :)

#hobie brown #hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x you #hobie headcanons #hobie x y/n #hobie my beloved #hobie brainrot #spiderman atsv #atsv #atsv x reader

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nataliawrites · 1 year

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My Boyfriend’s Not in the Mafia // Charles Leclerc

I’ve been having issues with my posts disappearing from the tags so I’m going to give reposting this a try

It was funny at first. You didn’t really think anything of it the first time … or the second … or the third.

When you landed your dream job straight out of college and traded in the familiar streets of your hometown for the glitz and glam of Monaco, you didn’t know what to expect. But the reality ended up being more than you could have dreamed of.

You had a crooked cobblestone and poorly closed latte to thank for that. One wrong step saw you flung across the sidewalk. Fortunately, someone managed to catch you before your head became the street’s next victim. Unfortunately, his white linen shirt also caught the remnants of your coffee.

That’s how you met Charles Leclerc. Who needs a meet cute when you could have a “I’m mortified and can’t ever show my face in the second-smallest sovereign state in the world again” cute?

Of course you didn’t exactly know who he was at first but the gigantic billboard of his face next to the Prancing Horse that you passed on the way to your first date clued you in pretty quickly.

As you became more serious, you never intended to keep your relationship secret. But it was the off-season and that meant that Charles could mostly stay out of the spotlight while the two of you relished in your own little bubble. The honeymoon phase never felt sweeter.

But then your coworkers started asking questions. They saw the Ferrari (and the other Ferrari and the other Ferrari and the other Ferrari) that often dropped you off in the mornings and picked you up at night. They saw how you started to rush out for your lunch break instead of spending it in the office. They saw the new earrings and bracelets and necklaces and shoes and lots and lots of red accents.

“Who is he?”

You turn towards your coworker, Stephanie, as you go to refill your water bottle after lunch. “Who is who?”

She wiggles an eyebrow, “Your new man!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Your other coworker, Jacob, walks over from across the room. “Don’t be coy. We have eyes.”

Stephanie laughs, “And my eyes are telling me that you’ve found yourself a trust fund kid. No judgement here — get that bag!”

“One,” your raise a finger, “he’s not a trust fund kid. And two,” you raise another, “it’s not about money. I really like him.”

Stephanie squeals with as much zeal as she can manage in a corporate office, “I knew it! You have a man.”

Jacob chimes in, “So trust fund kid’s out … I’m betting on an oligarch.”

“Or a torrid affair with a politician.” Stephanie seems way too excited at the prospect.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, “He does something much more dangerous.”

“He’s in the mafia?”

“Damn, you’ve got yourself a mobster.”

You don’t grace them with a reply, just laughing the teasing away.

You should have just straight up denied it. You knew that. But you were having too much fun and what harm could a little joke possibly have? You just didn’t expect the photos you posted on Instagram from when you joined Charles in Maranello and then explored northern Italy together to have your work friends quite so suspicious.

Stephanie and Jacob corner you as soon as you step out of the elevator on your first day back from vacation.

Stephanie starts, “So Italy …”

“Where the mafia is from. What a coincidence!” Jacob finishes.

“Wait,” Stephanie focuses on your neck, “that’s a new necklace.” She spots the patent red bottoms of your new more fashion than function stilettos, “and those are new shoes!”

“We were in Milan!” You explained. “You can’t not go shopping in Milan.”

“Yeah,” Jacob laughs, “you and your mafioso sugar daddy.”

To be fair, the phone call they overheard between you and Charles the next day didn’t help much.

“Did you manage to get the blood out?”

He sighed through the phone, “Yes, finally! Only took me two hours of scrubbing. Remind me not to scratch my leg on a cliff and not notice while it bleeds on my car’s leather the next time we go to the beach.”

Your back turned to them, you don’t even notice the wide eyed look that Stephanie and Jacob exchange.

When your birthday approached right before the season started up, you finally decided to introduce Charles to your friends. Your family, the Leclercs, and your friends would be joining you for dinner at your favorite local restaurant.

Charles was standing next to you, welcoming your guests and inviting them to sit down for dinner, when Stephanie and Jacob walked in.

You think they would’ve looked less shocked if Charles was actually in the mafia.

Jacob stutters, “You’re … you’re-”

“CHARLES LECLERC!” Stephanie managed to find her voice.

Charles extended a hand and chuckled, “Hope I don’t disappoint. Y/N told me you thought I was in the mafia. I’m not quite at that level.”

Your best friends from work turned the same color as Charles’ race suit.

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gamchawizzy · 2 months

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❗️Mutual Aid Needed🦐

Hello hello, I am Woz, I am a trans guy from the global south, and outside of my day job in corporate, I am an artist. I am the breadwinner of my family, and I also get my younger sibling through school.

For a little more than half a decade I have been suffering with bad mental health and suicidal thoughts, on top of trying to keep my family afloat with what I can earn.

I work two jobs to earn money, on top of tabling at conventions to be able to earn extra on the side. I am the one who pays all the house bills, some groceries, often having to send money to my sibling for school and sometimes tuition. Due to the constant pressure from overworking and the abusive social environment I have been exposed to for the longest time, I am now experiencing bodily pains, shortness of breath, headaches, worsening eyesight, and worsened depression as I clock in 10-15 hours almost daily (including weekends and holidays) trying to make ends meet.

I’m humbly asking for your help so I can get proper healthcare, which has been out of my reach for the longest time due to poverty. I was hoping to be able to afford help a few years ago, as soon as I got a job, but ever since the pandemic, the local price hikes just kept going, and going, until the matter was off the table entirely. The biggest reason why I am trying to get this moving now and as urgently as possible is so I can still receive treatment while I am still mentally and physically able to take charge of my own health.

While I’m still more or less able to function well enough to work, I recently escaped an abusive situation, which was one of the biggest causes of my misery. The fallout from this event brought on a severe impact on my mental health and I was subject to a cult-like shunning by my old community. This has caused me to develop suicidal thoughts again, which eventually led to several self-delete attempts, the latest of which almost succeeded had I not been caught at literally the last second.

At the moment I am stable again and in the hands of trusted loved ones, but I still do not have access to professional help and I don’t know how long this stability will last and the next thing might cause me to spiral again.

We already did some research on getting local help and have a plan in motion, all we need now is the funds to carry it out. The bulk of it will be for the initial consultations and possibly medication, and we’re hoping to have enough to get the ball rolling for a couple months’ worth of treatment as I get myself back on track.

The initial process will be the most expensive as I am suspecting to have an undiagnosed condition that I would like to have checked, as well as possible medication. I do not have a disability ID yet (but I plan on getting one once I get a dx on paper), so we may have to pay full price for initial treatments.

Currently, my primary goal for this would be to achieve psychiatric help, diagnosis, medication, and therapy.

If I’m able to save up for a few months of maintenance and still have extra left over, my secondary goal would be to finally get my knees checked, as I have chronic pain and the occasional kneecap dislocation in them. This has been left unchecked for more than 15 years due to both poverty as well as being outright denied healthcare by the adults around me due to them downplaying the problem. I am nearing my 30s soon. While I’m still able to walk and engage in physical activities without the use of mobility aids, I fear that the complications from this condition if left untreated will only take a turn for the worse as I age.

Direct ways to support me:

Paypal:

Ko-Fi:

I have prints! You can pick up some of my art here:

We do not have a set price goal in mind as it will be a months-long process of beginning treatment and maintaining it, but rest assured all funds received will be set aside for the purpose of my healthcare and well-being only.

I still cannot escape many factors of my life that continue to hurt me, but I am hoping that continuous treatment, therapy, and support will help keep me going so I can keep my family fed without me having to worry about my own health.

Any donation, big or small, helps me so much! Even just a dollar/peso helps, shares and reblogs too! PH Moots, feel free to ask for my GCash in private!

Thank you all for reading! I’m always grateful 😭🙏❤

#mutual aid #mutual assistance #reblogs appreciated!! anything helps 🥺#No deadline on this - we are hoping to start as soon as March/April but happy to keep receiving donos 😭#so sorry about all this but yeah it is a big reason why i haven't been drawing outside of work nowadays. so many Bad things added up

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avelera · 5 months

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Thinking about the lovely “New Inn Through the Ages” post by @virgo-dream in terms of alternatives to the popular “Hob built the New Inn for Dream after the missed 1989 meeting” headcanon.

- Quick disclaimer, this headcanon always mildly (and irrationally, this is fandom after all) irked me because to my pedantic, archaeology-obsessed ass, the New Inn was obviously visually at least 200 years old just based on the brick work so “built” never really worked, at most Hob could have purchased or renovated it if it was in response to 1989. To some that’s splitting hairs but what can I say, I never pretended to be rational about dumb history stuff.

- THAT SAID, it would be kind of interesting if Hob does own the New Inn but not necessarily since 1989, but even earlier. It could even be interesting for him to have built the New Inn in truth but back in the 1700s when the building was actually built.

- Hob appears not just comfortable at the White Horse in its 1889 but at the very least a regular. He recognizes Lou on sight and names her immediately, he knows her nickname at the establishment. This familiarity doesn’t track if this is his first time at the White Horse since 1789.

- After 1689, Hob appears to have opted to buy out a private room for them for their discussion, perhaps in response to his return in fortunes but also perhaps based on the memory of being nearly thrown out in 1689 and interrupted by Shaxberd in 1589. The guy is learning how to better manage their encounters. So it stands to reason that after they were interrupted by Constantine in 1789 as a result of her paying off the proprietor, that Hob would simply buy out the inn for 1889.

- Hob owning the White Horse in 1889 actually rather tracks with his familiarity with Lushing Lou and the fact that he’s so at ease there and clearly arrived well before Dream. He speaks to Lou with authority and is dressed with signs of at least middle class prosperity. Being the owner of the White Horse tracks with that level of prosperity shown, nothing flashy, after all it’s in a bad part of town these days.

- Thing is, Hob has a mind for business as we see in numerous instances at the centennial meetings. As a result, to me, it wholly tracks that he wouldn’t stop at buying the White Horse, he’d also purchase a few neighboring taverns and inns once he got a hang of the business. (Consolidation of neighborhood pubs under mega corporation ownership in the 1990s is its own interesting side note on this because again, I’m a history nerd.) The New Inn is presented as so close to the White Horse that a graffiti arrow is enough to point it out. That’s very close indeed.

- SO, I think from this it’s reasonable to say that Hob could very well have owned the New Inn as part of one of his business ventures since the 19th century or earlier, perhaps even as a result of the 1789 meeting and “Finding another pub”, perhaps even building the New Inn then in truth either before or after the meeting as an alternative in case another lunatic Constantine shows up. It’s so close by he might have hoped he could persuade Dream with its proximity.

- Right then, if that’s true, why can’t Hob save the White Horse?

- Perhaps after 1889 he simply sold his ownership stake in it. Heartbroken and angry at himself, especially if he’d provided all these contingencies like the New Inn in case of interruptions or other disasters, he might have just felt as much like a fool as in 1589 when he tried to provide a fine meal. Probably best to just give up and stop trying to control matters, since look where that got him.

- So he sells the White Horse. But the other inns don’t have the same emotional stake and business is business, so he sets those up with a “family trust” to keep running, lending the building out to different managers, etc. and simply carries on.

- Cue his look of devastation in 1989 upon learning the White Horse is going to shut down. If he once owned it, it might be a particular gut punch to know he could have prevented this if he hadn’t let his bitterness get the better of him. Despite his best efforts, he can’t prevent it from being condemned.

- LUCKILY he still had his own business interests nearby in the form of those pubs he built or bought centuries ago. He dusts off his paperwork around the New Inn and reassumes direct management (or at least, his nephew does in a few years). The 1789 “nearby pub” contingency might just pay off in the 21st century, who knows? And it worked!

And there you have it. My take on how Hob could have built the New Inn starting from its actual original construction. Very fun to consider too when you check out Virgo’s post and discover that a Mr. Hobert did indeed own it at one point ;)

#the sandman #hob gadling #the new inn #sandman meta

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ofallthingsnasty · 3 months

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Pretty please could you do F, H, N, or Y for crocodile one day! I’m curious on your thoughts about him and I love when you talk about him 😭 my new obsession is the pug who he hates but tolerates just for you, so sweet 🥺

Yandere Alphabet letters a, i and q for crocodile hdsjahj anon I'm glad you like my rambles because they are so much fun to write 💕💕 regarding the little dog - don't be fooled, it's 50% him wanting to see you happy and 50% having even more leverage over you 🤭 mean man...

tw.yandere, violence, minors dni

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Uh oh, you might want to reconsider doing that. You call it fighting back, he calls it being an ungrateful, whiny little brat and it pisses him off. There are few things that make his blood boil when it comes to you, and being defiant and insulting him is one of them. Does he know that you’re here against your will? Sure. Does he care? No. You see, he views himself as some sort of provider - he’s giving you a life a million times better than your old one. You’re cared for, well-fed, nicely dressed, don’t have to work - really, your only job is to play house when he’s around (which he isn’t all that often, busy as he is). He doesn't even expect you to fuck him for it, he just wants someone to come home to, who will let him rest his head on their lap and caress it. (Of course, he oh-so-graciously ignores the gigantic power imbalance between the two of you when it suits him, especially when it comes to the bedroom. But generally speaking, I think he can be rather mellow compared to others, can even be reasoned with to a certain extent. Just be good for him.)

He thinks he’s being more than generous, more than fair - for the position you're in. A lesser pirate would have killed you by now, he tells you, would have gotten a new toy already. No, no - he is here to stay, he wants to see you thrive, even.And if you throw it all in his face, spit at him, dare to fight him - oh, what he’ll feel will be beyond good and evil. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, darling.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Okay, good news first: When it comes to Crocodile, I’d argue that the worst experience is really limited to just one. I’ve talked about him physically lashing out at you in a moment of rage and in the weeks that have passed that thought kind of stuck with me. At his core, this man doesn't want to hurt you (deeply). Manipulating you with visual threats and possibilities is one thing, but genuinely injuring you to make you bend to his will? Not really his style. Yes, he does corporal punishments - but only because they’re so effective and can be done so quickly. (A classic action - réaction, if you will.) So, what exactly is that nebulous worst experience? It’s him either using his Devil Fruit powers or his hook on you. To even get to that point, he’d have to be beyond angry with you. It’s probably something that happens early on while you’re not yet acquainted with your new role and you dare to insult him, try to escape - maybe you spiral, his temper simply cooks over and- Trust me, he’ll never do it again. It’ll leave permanent physical damage. But it’ll also traumatize you into submission, which is the only good thing to come out of this, at least to him. You’ll both regret it. And you’ll both learn from it.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Spankings. Lots of them. It’s quick, efficient, shows you who is in charge, makes you sit a little straighter, makes you sweeter - he isn’t beyond mind games in general but when it comes to punishments, a quick correction is just more convenient. Manipulation and the likes are the long con, the work he puts in to undermine your self-esteem, to make you doubt your own feelings for your captor. But the spankings are the here and now, the thing that keeps the cat from sharpening its claws on the sofa.

You’ll learn to associate that telltale-look of tired disappointment with a sigh and over my knee, darling. He’ll ask what you’ve done wrong, will make you count, will leave you feeling so small, like an unruly child and not a fully grown adult - it’s a great way to keep you edge, to never let you forget who is in charge here, no matter how much time passes and in how many gifts he showers you.

And if it’s really dire - you get the belt.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I always waver on this one. We know from the story that he isn’t afraid of planning, slowly building, waiting - Operation Utopia was a goddamn mammoth and he has the patience to wait on you for years and years to make it perfect - but. Doesn’t he deserve something soft? Someone to come home to? And what good is all that plotting and lying in wait and watching if he could have had you by that point already?He definitely won’t go ‘alright, that one’s spouse-shaped, put them in the bag’ when he sees you for the first time but he won’t wait too long for you either. Just long enough to gain sufficient intel, to get to know you a little better, to make your disappearance as smooth and seamless as possible. I’m not trying to sound harsh, but not only does he not want to wait too long - there are also other, more important things to do? He can’t spend months upon months learning about you inch by inch, he has an Ancient Weapon to seize and a country to overthrow. You can’t be mad at him when he pulls the plug at a certain moment and simply takes what he wants. It’s really only logical.

#omg that was waaaaay too much fun. thank you for indulging me!! kiss for you... 💕#tw.yandere #/crocodile #/one piece #yandere one piece #crocodile x reader

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choclodox · 1 year

Text

Lyle’s IQ score Head Canon

HEAR ME OUT: as much as Lyle def gives me himbo™️ energy, I also feel like he’s supposed to be…PRETTY SMART? he’s just also goofy. Like, I feel like he’s one of those friends that’s the smartest but also the dumbest person you’ve ever had at the same time.

Here is my evidence (dons glasses and grabs a laser pointer)

1. First and foremost, I’m pretty sure Quaritch wouldn’t let a dumbo be able to advance to the rank of Corporal, so Lyle needs to have SOME level of competency (but there’s still some room for his goofball nature lol).

Side note, studies show that people who are comical tend to have higher IQs since it ranks critical thinking to understand humor and make jokes. So Lyle is at least smart in that department.

2. In the first movie, we can see that Trudy trusts him enough to work on her Samson. We all know how much Trudy LOVED her Baby, so she must have had some serious trust in Lyle (someone who wasn’t an RDA mechanic) to let him even TOUCH her Rogue One’s equipment.

3. Also in the first movie, Lyle actually knows his stuff about combat theory and the AMP suits. When Quaritch has Lyle survey the aftermath of the Omatikaya’s retaliation for the destruction of the Tree of Voices, Lyle is able to describe in detail what the damages are. He’s able to tell that the arrows were fired from Ikrans based off the angles of the arrows in the damaged equipment and dead bodies, he can say for a fact that the AMP suits are not just damaged but what exactly is damaged (the Driver in this case).

4. Now in the 2nd movie, we actually get to see more of his smarts come into action. Lyle actually gets promoted from Corporal to Lieutenant and becomes second in command to Quaritch. The RDA wouldn’t let that happen if he was purely a trigger happy soldier; you needs some gray matter for that position.

5. Next, Quaritch looks to LYLE to pull the security feed off of OG Quaritch’s AMP suit. And Quaritch is a smart guy too, but it feels like Big Curly Q knows he’s out of his depth on this one and just hands it off to Lyle because he knows that he actually knows his stuff.

But ya, thanks for coming to my TedTalk :)

Also, a few other hcs I embrace

Lyle is that ONE gringo friend that knows FLUENT Spanish (and possibly knows other languages as well). And when I say Gringo, I don’t mean he’s white but is still Hispanic, no. There is a reason why JamCam named this man after Wainfleet, Ohio (the Ohio of Ohio). But nobody questions his ability to speak Spanish. You leave him alone in any Authentic Hispanic setting and come back in 20 minutes, they’re running to the liquor store because they already ran out of Tequila/pisco/etc. TEAM LATINO LOVES HIM

*side note, Jake probably knows some Spanish too since he did his tours in Venezuela. Who knows, maybe he taught some to Spider because he knows he’s team Latino. A

*and Quaritch probably knows some of Nigeria’s native languages (Hausa, Yoruba, Igbo, etc) since he did 3 whole tours there before coming to Pandora

Lyle likes 90s music (Britney Spears, Mariah Carey) but mainly SHAKIRA. I could see him just dancing alone to Hips Don’t Lie and someone walks in trying to get his attention, but he doesn’t notice and they have to clear their throat and he just screams when he finally notices them

He can dance Samba, Cumbia, Tango, Flamenco. ANYTHING in that family HE CAN DO IT FLAWLESSLY ASU PAPI

Might come from a family of mechanics and worked in a mom and pop mechanic shop (I embrace that one HC where he has a love for cars and just engineering in general). Maybe he wanted to be a more refined engineer but just couldn’t pass the tests since he was more of an intuitive thinker and tests favor more of the technical thinkers.

Likes DragonBall Z but will never admit it

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatarfanart #avatar2 #miles quaritch #jake sully #trudy chacon #lyle wainfleet #recom lyle wainfleet #lyle wainfleet headcanons

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whxre-bxby · 1 year

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Im just saying a hate fucking fic where Lyle is jealous that Quaritch is always giving the reader all the attention when he is supposed to be his right hand man wouldn’t be terrible 😏

Wouldn't be terrible at all ( I had to write this, thank you!)

Hate-Fucking with Lyle Wainfleet

Recom Lyle x Recom f. Y/N

Masterlist

Summary: (can be seen in the ask)

WARNINGS: SMUT / NSFW, fighting, swearing, degrading, violence, force, hurt/comfort, spanking, penetration, man-handling

Word Count: 6480

Quaritch stood next to the helicopter with a tablet in his hand. He was flicking through it and then pulled out a paper from his pocket.

All the recom’s including me were geared up and waiting for orders.

“Y/N.” Quaritch said and my gaze shot up. “Put these coordinates in.”

“Yes, sir.” I nod, walking over to him and standing next to the Colonel who hands me the tablet. I start clicking from tab to tab and he holds out the paper with all the information. Once I finish I hand it back to him and he gives me a firm yet appreciative nod. I move to the side again, stilling my movements and holding my weapon.

What I don’t notice is the pair of eyes burning into my skin. They belong to Lyle and he’s seething with jealousy. He was a Corporal and had recently been promoted to Lieutenant for his loyalty to the RDA. Meaning, he was the next highest rank after the Colonel. Which also meant he was meant to be Quaritch’s number two or his so-called right-hand man.

But for whatever reason, the Colonel seemed to take a liking in you and it annoyed Lyle. A hatred for you was building up in him, even though you hadn’t ever done anything directly to harm him. He knew he was in the wrong for this because you were a nice person but he couldn’t even bring himself to say that about you.

This wasn’t the first time you had been asked to do something he should have.

Another time when we were out on a mission, Quaritch needed to send the helicopter our location and additional files of data we collected. Once again, the technology seemed to overwhelm him. He also happened to be tired after the long day in the forest, so without hesitation, he called you to him.

Quaritch knew he could rely on you and he had great trust in you.

While you helped him out on the screen he grinned at a few of his soldiers.

“Good te’ have some young flesh with us.” he chuckled and a few soldiers grinned in response to his comment. I smiled, returning the screen to him after I was done. He liked to joke about how younger generations like myself were more technologically competent.

Once again, Lyle was pissed off. His ears were strained back and his arms folded as he glared at you while you continued a conversation with one of the soldiers.

It was true. I was younger than all of them. I was also the last to join the Deja Blu team. While we were all physically the same age now because our avatars were in their twenties, I was roughly that old when I died while the Colonel was over 50 and Lyle had almost reached 40. There was a significant mental age gap between Lyle and me but it wasn’t even noticeable. I subconsciously adapted my behaviour to the others and so did he, which balanced everything out.

Currently, I was in one of our meeting rooms with Quaritch. The General was there and he was talking to her about the mission. I stood next to the Colonel just as a backup and also to help him beam up the pictures we took of old retrieved machinery in the forest.

Lyle walked by, glancing through the huge glass windows and stopping in his tracks when he saw the layout of the scene in the room. He growled when he saw you standing next to your superior. Actually, his superior and your double-superior if that made sense. Lyle was also your superior so technically he could order you to do things when the Colonel wasn’t there.

He was definitely going to take advantage of his rank to get back at you.

Lyle walked inside while the General and Quaritch were talking. Their conversation was coming to an end and she told him to follow her to the aircraft runway to show him relevant equipment for the next mission. He wasn’t necessarily pleased about having to spend more time with her but he didn’t dare show it. He dismissed me, handing over the tablet he was holding to free his hands before following her to the door. The Colonel noticed Lyle and nodded towards him. The gesture was returned to Lyle. They had both gone and now it was just me, Lyle, and a few other humans doing scientific studies.

I was taking notes of what the Colonel had told me to write down and felt another presence. Turning around I spot Lyle and smile.

“Hey, don’t you have training?” I ask, putting the tablet down and turning to him. He didn’t smile back or even greet me which both confused and worried me. Lyle was always friendly.

“What are you doin’ here?” he asked and his voice seemed to be deeper than usual. I don’t take my eyes off him as he approaches me. I just study his movements trying to sense out of his emotions.

“The Colonel had a meeting, I helped take notes and-” I explain, giving him another friendly smile and motioning to the screen in front of me.

“Did he ask you?” Lyle’s tail swishes in irritation and the sign of body language makes my gently swaying tail freeze. Something is off and I can now tell he is not happy. Instantly, I’m worried I did something wrong even though I know I haven’t.

“Uhm, I guess so.” I reply, not sure how else to answer.

“You don’t know?” Lyle asks, his hard gaze meeting mine while his almost mocking tone undermines my words. I nervously look down, turning away from him. His presence suddenly seems so strong it intimidates me.

“I don’t remember.” I say before turning to the tablet and picking it up.

Lyle grits his teeth and in the next second his hand rips the tablet from mine. I stare up at him in shock at his rough actions.

“What are you doing?” I ask, not daring to take it back.

“Stop doin’ my job.” he growls at me, staring me down for a good few seconds before turning to leave with the tablet. Lyle slams the door closed behind him, leaving me standing alone. I flinch at the loud noise, not moving and just processing what happened.

I scan the room, looking at the humans who were already looking at me. Their curious eyes drank in the dramatic scene. I frown, pinning my ears to the side of my head and once they see I’ve spotted them they quickly turn away.

Confusion and anger were pumping through my body as I huffed through my nostrils in annoyance before exiting the room. Lyle was already gone.

That interaction put me in a bad mood and I most definitely expected an apology from him during our next encounter.

The next day, during a briefing Quaritch was giving the recom’s, he received a phone call. He saw it was someone ranking close to the General and his eyes met mine. He curled his finger, beckoning me to him and without hesitation, I got up from my seat and approached him.

“Notes.” he murmured before picking up the phone and I quickly unlocked mine, scrolling through files to find what he needed. Once I got it I handed him my phone and he gave me his usual appreciative nod before turning away and talking to the person on the phone. I stand patiently, waiting for him to finish so that I can get my phone back.

All the recom’s are used to me being called up and when he turns away they use the time as a break and start talking. I intuitively scan the room before my eyes lock with Lyle’s.

I freeze and my heart drops when I see that he’s staring me down again. He was sitting in the front row of the benches, leaning forwards on his arms which rested on his manspreading thighs. His glare made me stop chewing on my tongue and my ears were flattened back just like his.

He seemed to notice how I didn’t look away this time and took note of my reacting attitude towards him. The Colonel returned and Lyle looked away. I continued to study him as I sat down, trying to think of an explanation for his behaviour.

Did that count as taking his job away? But if so, what does he expect? I’m not going to ignore Quaritch’s orders. He asked me to do something, I’m going to do it. If Lyle has a problem with that, then I have a problem with Lyle.

The next time I spoke to Lyle was when the recom team wasn’t being used for its deemed mission but for chores. With our height and strength, we were a great help and happened to often do a better job than the human soldiers.

This time we were cleaning and repairing helicopters. There were 4 in total and Brown and I were in charge of one together.

Lyle was walking up and down the runway, keeping an eye on everything because Quaritch was busy.

Brown knelt down, tightening the screw and pipes of the engine while I held a cloth in my hand and wiped away the grease and ashes. He gave me a thumbs-up and I nodded, trying to start the engine again but once again the helicopter died. Brown groaned in frustration and I chuckled, walking over to him to see what it looked like.

“Shouldn’t that be screwed on here?” I ask, pointing it out to him.

“Don’t know, this is how the other guy showed me te’ do it.” he replied, shrugging. I hum, examining the mess.

“Y/N, back to work!” I hear Lyle loudly call from behind us. Both of us turn around to face him and I frown when my eyes meet him. He’s standing with his arms crossed and tail swaying.

“I am working.” I say, leaning on the front of the aircraft and looking at him.

“She’s helpin’ me out.” Brown said, looking up at Lyle. I smile, thankful for his helpful words.

Lyle glares at me and I raise an eyebrow, challenging him to complain about me even more.

“Wearin’ that?” he scoffs and I blink in silence, processing his nerve to even comment on my clothes. It was extremely warm in the garage for all aircraft, especially when we were working on their engines.

So I had shorts and a sports bra on, instead of my usual tank top. Not a big deal. It wasn’t the first time either.

“Yeah, you got a problem?” I ask, fully turning around to face him. Brown notices the tension and stands up. He wasn’t used to seeing me mad.

“I do actually, yes.” Lyle answered, taking an intimidating step forward but it just makes me sneer at him. We’re staring each other down until Brown comes to my rescue.

“She’s wearin’ more than me.” He says, making it sound like a light joke even though he is trying to scale down the situation. Brown was shirtless with just loose shorts on, so he wasn’t wrong.

Lyle’s eyes flicker to him, finally breaking the tense and harsh eye contact and I softly sigh.

“Get back to it then.” Wainfleet sternly says, turning away from us. I roll my eyes, turning back to the engine and Brown scans the two of us before kneeling down again.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, glancing up at me before reaching for the screwdriver.

“No idea. He’s been like this for the past few days.” I say with a sigh while my tail flicks in irritation.

“I think he’s into you.” he chuckles and I wheeze.

“Yeah, right. I’d rather die.” I say, realising I may not even mean that after I said it. Nonetheless, Brown didn’t need to know.

“I’m serious, he’s been an ass like this once and that was when he was all over some girl.“ Brown adds and I think about it.

“Besides, look at you. I think he’s interested.”

I scoff at his comment, hitting the back of his head which makes him laugh as he readjusts his baseball cap.

“He’s interested to kill me.” I say and Brown gives me a doubting look, wanting to reply but we’re interrupted.

“Y/N!” I hear a distant call which makes me turn my attention away from the conversation. I turn around, vaguely noticing that Lyle was still standing behind us and was facing us. He too was looking in the direction the voice came from.

Quaritch came out from around the corner, seeming rushed as he scanned the room for me. His eyes found me and his tense shoulders slumped in relief.

“Y/N, sweet’eart. I need you for the meeting.” He called and I nodded. I was completely oblivious to the pet name and it flew right by me. It just so happened to hit Lyle like a brick to the face and Brown noticed it too.

As I turn to leave I grin at Lyle who looks angry that I’m being called up instead of him. I chuck the dirty cloth at him.

“You can clean now. I’m needed elsewhere.” I tease him, smiling at Brown who is fighting a grin before jogging to where the Colonel came from.

Lyle was boiling with anger, gripping the cloth so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Pfft, ‘sweetheart’.” he mumbled in a mocking tone.

The fact that Quaritch called for you pissed him off even more and he wasn’t sure whether he was jealous of you or him. It seems as though the Colonel and you have become close with all the time you spend working together, so you doing Lyle’s job. He didn’t know whether to be mad at you for taking it away from him or whether to be mad at the Colonel for wanting you instead of him. Somehow, he also felt angry that you allowed Quaritch to call you pet names like that.

Lyle turned to Brown who avoided eye contact with him and started doing what I was before.

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type.” Brown joked, glancing up at Lyle before taking cover behind the broken engine again.

Lyle’s ears tipped back at his words. “What? No! I’m not.” he snarls, aggressively cleaning the side of the aircraft. Brown didn’t say anything else, not wanting to cause a commotion.

“It’s just- she’s doin’ my job. Ya know? I’m the fuckin’ Lieutenant.” he huffs and Brown’s ears flick up. Lyle was talking to himself mostly, needing to let his frustration out. Brown preferred not to voice his opinion in fear of getting a beating.

‘You were going to pay for this’ Lyle thought.

The meeting Quaritch called me in for was similar to most others. It seemed as though the General needed to be re-informed of our mission every few days which was starting to annoy both Quaritch and me.

Luckily it ended before either of us started giving Ardmore some attitude.

She walked out of the room with her usual group of soldiers following her and the Colonel watched her leave with a stern look. Once the door closed behind them he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That woman’s gettin’ on my nerves.” he subtly said and I grinned, shutting down the computer and turning off the beamer. I wanted to comment on her too but I knew better than that.

“Why does she need us doing this every few days?” I ask, putting the remote control back into a drawer before facing the Colonel.

“Don’t think she trusts us.” Quaritch answers and I hum in reply.

“Anyway, you’ve been a great help Y/N. You’re dismissed for the rest of the evenin’.” he said, flashing me a smile and I returned it.

“Thank you, sir.” I say with a nod before walking out the door myself. There were a lot of thoughts going through my head at the moment so I had tunnel vision for the door of my room. I reached it, letting myself in and closing the door behind me, sighing in relief at the silence and privacy.

What you hadn’t noticed was, of course, Lyle. He refused to finish cleaning the helicopter and was actually planning on just going to wash his hands but he stumbled across the room you were having this ‘meeting’ in and decided to hang around there instead. Since he was a recombinant, no one would question why he isn’t working so he leaned against the wall next to one of the windows in the room and waited.

Once Ardmore left he turned around and looked inside, watching the interaction between the Colonel and you. You seemed to be having a pleasant conversation which put Lyle in a very non-pleasant mood.

He saw you start to leave and his eyes flickered to his superior, noticing how the Colonel peered after you.

Lyle’s ears automatically flattened back without him noticing. Of course, you were still wearing your skimpy outfit.

He waited for you to see him because he was very close to the door but your eyes didn’t catch him. Instead, you walked away and probably to your room.

Lyle huffed in annoyance, making sure the Colonel wouldn’t see him through the windows before following you down the long hallways. The third time he turned a corner he stopped and noticed you unlocking your door and walking inside. Now you were alone and he could scold you for all the shit you have done that’s pissed him off.

He slowly walked up to your door, stopping in front of it before knocking harshly at the wood.

My tired eyes shot open and my ears perked at the noise. I was in the bathroom, cleaning myself off with a wet towel. Droplets of water were running down my neck and chest after I had just rubbed off some of the helicopter's grease.

I sigh, holding on to the towel before walking to the door.

I open it, expecting to see Z-Dog asking where I’ve been of Brown trying to figure out more about the drama. But no, to my surprise, Lyle is standing in front of me and once again he doesn’t look happy.

I raise an eyebrow, wiping my cheek with the towel while waiting for him to say something.

“You know you’re meant to greet your superiors.” he said and I was already sick of his presence. I groaned, dropping my head because I felt too tired to deal with him and his shit now.

“Hm, that’s odd. I don’t remember that.” I say, purposefully angering him.

“You do.”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t apply to me since I might be your superior soon.” I say, smiling slyly at him.

Lyle growled and tried stepping in but I blocked his way. “Forget it, this is my space.” I snap and he grits his teeth.

“Too bad, mandatory room inspection.” he says and I know he’s making it up. This was pathetic and immature.

“Yeah right.” I snort and he straightens his posture, peering down at me.

“Do I have to remind you that I outrank you by two positions?” he said and my ears tip back. This wasn’t fair but he was right. I had to listen so I sighed, moving out of his way and he walks into my room.

I stand by the open door, following him with my eyes.

“Close it.” he orders and I stare for a few good seconds before complying. Yep, that’s it. I’m going to die in here on this good day.

I turn to face him while he stands in all his tall glory, frowning at me.

Lyle’s eyes scan my body and I take note of that, watching how they linger on my chest.

“Up here.” I say and I can see how he curses himself for having me catch him.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” he asks and his voice sounds strained which makes me think I might get a punch if I answer wrongly.

“No? I’m doing my job.”

“My job.” he quickly corrects me, spitting his words which makes me feel salty.

“I’m not going to disobey direct orders from the Colonel.” I hiss.

“He’s only given’ ‘em to you ‘cause of how you look.” Lyle snarls at me and I’m taken aback by his words.

Now my hands are resting on my hips as I glare up at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, clearly voicing my irritation through tone and body language. He shifts his weight onto one leg, looking up and swiping his thumb over his nose while he scoffs in disbelief.

“He’s checkin’ you out. Don’t think he gives you orders because he thinks you’re competent.”

My mouth drops open and I am very much offended. “He doesn’t fucking ‘check me out��.” I reply, staring daggers into this menace of a man.

“I saw him look after you when you left the room just now.” he says and I stay quiet. I don’t know how to respond and I’m confused what we’re even arguing about.

“Oh, don’t be all surprised now. Look at what you’re fuckin’ wearin’.” Lyle says motioning to my minimally dressed body and that’s all it takes for me to lose it.

Without hesitation, I slap Lyle across the face and it clearly startles him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that.” I spit my words at him, pointing my finger while he holds his cheek. “I wear this to training and it’s never been a big deal!” I shout and my noise level seems to bother him. He glances at the door before returning his fierce eyes to me.

“Be quiet.” he mumbles but I shake my head.

“You don’t even wear a shirt!”

“Y/N- stop.”

“You know, maybe the Colonel just wants someone mature and professional for once.” I snarl and Lyle stops his movements.

“What did you just say?” he asks, taking a step forwards. I stand my ground, not looking away.

“You heard me. The shit you’re doing right now is close to crossing the line.” I snarl and he raises an eyebrow. “I can report you for-”

My words are cut off when Lyle walks straight up to me and his right-hand wraps around my throat. I go to push him off me but he catches my wrist with his other hand.

“You’re such a fuckin’ pain in my ass, you know that?” Lyle growls and I frown up at him, trying to desperately pull his hand from my neck but it doesn’t budge.

“You’re such an asshole, get out of my-”

This time I’m interrupted by something I would have never expected and the action startles me so much that my heart stops beating for a second and I don’t move.

Lyle pulls me to him with the help of the grip he has around my throat and crashes his lips against mine. He holds me in place and kisses me roughly and after a second I kiss back. Why I do that I have no idea but he’s gotten me so frustrated with everything I can’t think logically around him.

The kiss turns into a heated make-out session and the hand he had wrapped around my throat was now tightly gripping the base of my queue on the back of my head. He tugged at it, making me tilt my head upwards to him.

My hands roam up his torso, rearranging the tank top before I close them into fists around the cloth by his neck. He doesn’t pull away and I’m starting to pant every time I can. One of my hands retreats from the deafening grip I had on his shirt to his bicep and I dig my fingernails into his skin. I still hated him and quite frankly didn’t care if I hurt him. He seemed to feel the same because he growled and squeezed my queue in response, making me whimper.

While some messed up part of me was into the whole thing, that pissed me off and I harshly pushed him in the chest. It broke the kiss and he took a step back to balance himself.

My chest was heaving, mirroring his own while I breathed heavily. Lyle was watching me intently, still clearly enraged. Both our ears were pinned back flat against our heads, reminding the other of the hatred we felt for each other despite the attraction I refuse to bring up.

“This is why you’re so provoked by me?” I tease him, rolling my shoulders back. His tail furiously flicks behind him.

“You’re into me and now you wanna get your dick wet?” I joke, trying to demean him.

He steps forward again, this time harshly gripping my jaw and forcing me to meet his stern glare.

“I’m not into you.” He snarls. “You just happen to be wearin’ the sluttiest thing they got.”

“Aww, are you having a hard time controlling yourself?” I coo, trying to baby him and make fun of him before I can’t take his angry face seriously anymore. I break into light laughter and Lyle growls again. I feel the vibrations from his chest. He pushed me back and my back hit the wall with a thud, making my eyes close from the sudden impact.

He was going to do what he needed to do but you didn’t deserve to get it on the bed. That would be too intimate so you’re getting it against a wall.

I look up at him with wide eyes and am quick to realise that I am very much not in control of the events that will soon unfold.

Lyle reaches behind his back, tugging his tank top over his head and discarding it on the ground before coming over to me. I don’t dare move and within seconds one of his hands caught my wrist, holding it above me and firmly pressed against the wall. I let out a faint gasp, following his movements and trying to wriggle it free but I fail.

Before I can try another miserable escape attempt, his other hand wraps around the strap of my sports bra and he tears it apart with ease. My breath catches in my throat and when he does the same to the other strap, a part of it recoils and slingshots back against my skin, making me flinch and cry out but Lyle couldn’t care less.

He tears apart the remaining cloth until it’s no longer wrapped around my torso and he lets it fall to the floor.

“You jerk, I liked that one.” I hiss at him, trying to catch his attention but Lyle’s head is elsewhere as he just stares at my now bare chest.

“Yeah?” He asks and I know he’s about the belittle my petty words.

“The Colonel did too. He’s never seein’ you in it again.”

I scoff. “Next time, I’ll go to him like this then.”

I answer, motioning to my bare chest because I knew that would get under his skin.

“You don’t know when to stop do ya?” he asks before his hand roughly fastens around the back of my neck and he turns me around. My chest and face are pressed against the wall while his other arm tugs my hips towards him, making me arch my back.

Within seconds my shorts have been pulled down my legs and before I could complain, his large palm delivered a harsh spank to my ass. I flinched away from his touch, pushing up further against the wall while I heard a deep chuckle from behind me.

“You’re in for it now.” he scowled and I snarled, pressing myself away from the wall and flicking him in the face with my tail. I wanted to turn around but he still held me by the neck and another skin-reddening spank landed on my ass. He gave me about 5 more, making them sting harder each time and I stopped struggling to get him to stop.

“You deserve more than that, you’re just lucky I’m impatient today.” he said, pulling me back from the wall and spinning me around.

I was going to get him back for making my ass sting so harshly.

His hands wrapped around my waist and he hoisted me into the air. Being lifted from my feet distracted me enough to not deliver another slap to his face.

He moved closer, resting me on his hips while my legs dangled on either side of him. Lyle looked distracted enough by the new position he put us in so I used this opportunity to harm him again. The fight was on and I wasn’t giving up.

My fingers clawed at his shoulders and then I tried to choke him with both hands but when I looked up at him, he looked completely unfazed by my aggressive antics.

Lyle’s hands were on my hips, and he was busy looking at my bare body which was shielded with just my panties at this point. He flexed his core abs and forced my hips to roll forwards while he pressed his up against mine.

I gasped when I felt him grind himself against me and my hands automatically loosened, falling from his neck and resting on his chest. A bolt of electric excitement shot through me and I bit my lip, hating the pleasure I felt.

He did it again and I tightly held onto his shoulders, pressing my lips together to suppress any noises that might fuel this bad idea.

Lyle looked up at my face and smirked when he saw my struggle to keep quiet. He decided to just keep repeating his actions until my rebellious acts will finally give out.

I had to occasionally close my eyes but once I felt his hardening dick twitch beneath me and press right against my clothed core, my sealed lips fell open and I moaned.

Lyle’s ears perked forwards and his sly smirk turned into a shit-eating grin.

“Ya feel good?” he asked me in a teasing manner.

“Shut up.” I answer breathily, not having a snarky remark I can fire back. I was lucky because Lyle wasn’t able to withstand me that long. The teasing ended quickly.

His fingers curled around the side of my underwear and to my displeasure but not a surprise, he tore the cloth apart and it joined the pile on the floor. I was naked now in his hands and he exhaled shakily while his starved eyes drank in all they saw.

His eyes widened when he noticed my tattoo. It was located above my pussy, close enough to always be covered by any panties I wore. The hand that threw away my panties came up to my lower abdomen and he traced his fingers down it.

“Fuck- I never knew you had this.” he mumbled, unable to tear his eyes off of the teasing pattern decorating my skin.

Now it’s my turn to evilly smirk at him. “You like it?” I ask, feigning innocence.

He scoffs, still staring down at it. “If I knew you had this, I wouldn’t have been able to wait this long.”

I grin before reaching between us and unbuckling his belt.

Lyle was brought out of his trance of fantasies and stared down at my hands.

“Look who’s all needy now.” he cooed, teasing me again and I huffed.

“Shut up, you did this to me.”

“Fuck yeah I did.” he replied, interpreting it rather as a compliment than an insult.

His hands replaced mine and he pushed his pants down, letting them pool around his ankles with his underwear.

I shudder, letting out a shaky breath as my eyes are met with his throbbing cock. The tip was glistening, already smeared with droplets of pre-cum while I watched the veins on the underside pulse. He was so much bigger than I could have possibly imagined and it looked so inviting.

I wanted to touch him but Lyle was feeling too restless.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk.” he said and I scoffed.

“Yeah right, like you’d ever manage that.”

I knew I could be underestimating him but we weren’t here to fucking make love. I was still mad at him for his behaviour.

“Quit bein’ a bitch and I might be nice.” he snarled, readjusting me on him while his lust-blown eyes stared into mine.

“Forget it, you started this.” I hiss and we’re back at the beginning again, arguing back and forth.

The tension in his body rose and Lyle decided to change my mind with actions instead of words. He didn’t like his odds because he knew you had a big mouth and talking wasn’t his absolute strength.

His hands held me up by the back of my thighs and he pulled his hips slightly back before moving forwards so that his tip was now pressing against my bare entrance. He had lifted me a little higher to achieve that and I bit my lip in anticipation.

The pressure of his tip against me had my pussy throbbing and then his fingers came down and he started gliding one through my folds.

I let my head fall back against the wall while I held onto his arms. He continued his actions, circling my clit and successfully not leaving a single area untouched.

Lyle started slowly pushing into me while he gently applied pressure on my clit and I was slowly melting into his touch. The pleasure I felt made it easier for him to enter me and soon enough, Lyle was buried hilt-deep in me.

He groaned, digging his fingers into the plush of my thighs to keep him steadied. “Shit… so tight.”

“Lyle-” I gasp, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. I glance down, noticing a faint bump in my belly which made my stomach twist with more excitement.

Hearing his name did unspeakable things to the marine soldier and he drew his hips back before pushing in a little faster and steadier this time.

I sighed, relaxing into him and once Lyle noticed I was taking him well he took things up a notch. His hips gliding back and forth turned into unwavering thrusts which sped up as we started to accept each other. Soon I was being shoved against the wall with each stroke and Lyle started rutting into me like this was the last time we would ever get this chance.

I closed my legs around his waist to ensure I stay on him while we both started getting lost in the feeling of pleasure. My eyes were fluttering closed with occasional whimpers and moans being drawn from my lips. They spurred Lyle on and his head was dropped forward and next to mine. His grunts and pants filled my ears and I loved the noises he made. My stomach tightened each time he groaned in bliss and he felt it when my pussy hugged him tighter.

We were both so frustrated and wound up from our arguments that we grew desperate for each other without knowing it. Finally, we were being relieved from all the tension and suspense and our senses were more responsive. Meaning, neither of us was going to last very long.

“Holy shit-” I moan, gasping when the angle he uses to drill into me hits my sweet spot. “I’m so close.”

Lyle growls into my ear, pressing his face into my neck and deeply inhaling my scent. It drove him feral and he couldn’t wait to cloak it with his musk. That way it would be made clear to the others, that you were his even without you knowing.

“Come on,” he whispered, encouraging me to cum. His words mixed with the next thrust absolutely crash me over the edge and my body trembles in euphoria.

I moan, arching my back off the wall and holding on to him for dear life while my pussy clenches down on him.

Lyle moans, knowing he will spill any second.

My orgasm washes over me and my pussy is throbbing wildly as I regain my breath.

He thrusts into me a few more times before quickly pulling out. In an instant, his hand closes into a fist around his shaft and he jerks himself until his cum sputters from his tip.

“Fuckkk-” he curses, throwing his head back before quickly looking down at our bodies again.

I watch with wide eyes as the thick ropes of white and almost luminescent cum paint my quivering pussy. He’s aiming for my tattoo and manages to almost fully cover it.

Once he calms down I smile to myself, loving how a small and naughty tattoo like that can make him so weak.

“Damn, this tat’ has you whipped.” I giggle, looking up at him. Lyle sighs, knowing I’m right. “ I’d say you like it more than me.”

“Fuck’s sake, all of you is so amazing.” he breathily answers, dropping his head into the crook of my neck again. He’s still floating in pleasure and his head isn’t fully back yet.

I raise an eyebrow. “All of me?”

Lyle pulls away, smirking at me. “We need to work on your attitude a little but otherwise-”

I pretend to be hurt and give him a light punch in the chest which makes him chuckle.

“My attitude is what got you laid, so play nice.”

He laughs before gently placing me on the ground. Lyle picks up the ripped clothes which used to be one and cleaned me up.

“I don’t know if you deserve ‘nice’. ” he replied and I rolled my eyes before walking over to my bed and picking up my large sleeping t-shirt. Lyle watched me not put it on and I smiled at him before leaving the room and going into the bathroom.

“You not comin’ back outside?” he asked, meaning the base.

“Nope. Our lovely Colonel dismissed me for the rest of the evening.” I call back to him. Lyle’s ears flick back for a brief moment.

‘Of course, he fucking did that’ Lyle thought. He looked down at what used to be your bra and felt a sense of pride when he saw how torn it was.

“Well, your bra’s done for so you ain’t gettin’ any more time off from him.” Lyle jokes.

“Can’t hear you I’m showering!” I shout and Lyle stands still for a few moments, thinking.

He glances at the door he came in through, contemplating whether he should get back to work. Then he looked towards you and saw you in the shower.

Let’s just say that work can wait.

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

Y/N:

Tag List: @number1gal @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

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