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#like why are we not seeing the vision here? am I the only one with big brain
apomaro-mellow · 2 days
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Honestly I was thinking about the end of ofmd s1 and it evolved to this. Steddie; omegaverse
Uhhh, loosely set in the Regency era but not particularly important, trigger warnings for sexual assault, use of date rape drugs
He should have never met Edgar Munson. Society dictated that their paths should never cross. That there would always be at least five degrees of separation between them. But the hands of fate were a stronger force. One that saw fit to have Steve find himself making polite conversation with an alpha below his station. Polite conversation turned to familiarity, which then turned to scandalous flirting, which then became a secret courtship.
Steve received the gifts from his beloved under some sort of cover. No one could know about their relationship. Even the nest offering, the last gift before an official engagement, had to be hidden. Of course they couldn't be publicly wed, not with Steve's family name, not on this continent.
That was how Eddie filled his head with visions of the New World. A place where they could be free and make their own lives. A land where no one knew how different they were.
"Just imagine it", Eddie had said, one morning after a night of lovemaking. "You, me, a pup or two perhaps, and a little corner of our own."
"Mmm, you paint a pretty picture", Steve said while playing with Eddie's hair. And it was a lovely thought. "But how's about three or four? Or maybe even five? I always wanted a big family."
He imagined children frolicking in fields, perfect mixtures of his and Eddie's features. Blissful as they were unaware of the pressures of high society that their dame had come from. Steve would give up the extravagance for all the love Eddie was able to store in this cramped room in a bed that just barely fit them both.
"Whatever my love desires", Eddie kissed him. "Just promise me that you'll run away with me."
"To the ends of the earth", Steve promised, sealing it with a kiss.
As Steve got dressed, Eddie did his damndest to keep him here, where he had eyes laid on him.
"The boat will leave at sunrise tomorrow. You may as well stay."
"If I spend the whole day here, my father will send out a search party. We need to keep suspicion low if I am to be spirited away by you."
"'Spirited away'? By me? That's an odd way of saying you're taking us on a whirlwind trip across the ocean." Considering Steve put up the money for their passage and would be footing most of the bills until they were officially set up with jobs in America, it was more like Steve was taking Eddie on the trip.
"Either way, it would be prudent if I went home and treated today as if it were absolutely average." Meanwhile, an energy would buzz within Steve the whole time.
He was dressed and at the door while Eddie was still in his underthings, holding him tight. Steve was no better, loathe to let him go. How he wished for just one day the hours would pass faster so that they could start their new lives together.
"You have to let me go eventually, love."
"But what if I don't? Steve...my moon and my stars, why part when we will just see each other again?"
"You know why."
"I've got a bad feeling. I've read too many novels where lovers parted with a vow to meet again and they almost never do."
"You know novels rot the mind", Steve said. "And our lives are not fiction. You'll see. I'll go home, have some tea with mother, rebuff Sir Hagan yet again, and get through one last dinner before going off to bed."
Then, under guide of moonlight, he would meet Eddie at the docks just down the street. They could hear the gulls and sailors from here, it was so close they could both taste it.
Eddie's eyes were closed, giving a silent prayer that it would be so. A hope that the only hitch in their plan would be Steve getting seasick. Finally, Steve left and all Eddie had to do was double check what he was packing. There were a few clothes, a couple of items his parents owned before their passing that he was sure his uncle would want to see.
Wayne had gone to the New World just a few years ago, wanting to make the trip before 'his old bones gave out', or so he said. Eddie let out a wistful sigh, getting by as he imagined introducing Steve to his uncle. And hopefully, there would be a bundle of good news on the way. They would be at sea for a few months, after all.
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Steve managed to sneak back into his room, no problem, but the moment he did, he could tell something was off. Steve's nest as usually immaculate, but he caught a whiff of something that shouldn't be there. Tossed right onto his pillow was a monogrammed handkerchief that stunk of Tommy.
He let out a scoff of disgust and picked it up, intending to put it away when he noticed one of his drawers was left open and had been rifled through. In a panic, Steve went towards it to confirm what he already knew. Eddie's nest offering had been a simple piece of cloth that he had scented. A small scrap that Steve imagined putting in a quilt one day.
Gone.
"Ah, there he is, the man of the hour."
Tommy came walking in from Steve's boudoir, right into his bedroom unannounced. Steve was knocked off his axis at the impropriety and even more so as he began to put the pieces together.
"What is this? Wh-why are you here? In my room? I don't understand."
"Don't be so anxious, Stevie. I was bound to find my way in here eventually. Your father was so kind to allow me in so that I could surprise you with my gift."
"My father?", Steve hissed, betrayed. It was all about being proper and following the right customs until doing the opposite suited one, wasn't it? The numerous times his father told him to stay on the straight and narrow, to never allow an alpha to skip steps with him. And now!?
"You haven't even giving me a single courting gift prior. I haven't even given you leave to court me." Then the open drawer came back to his attention. "Have you been going through my things?"
"Found something interesting while I was leaving my gift. Seems somebody snuck in a piece of trash", Tommy pulled Eddie's cloth from his pocket and Steve immediately lunged for it.
Tommy tried to move back but in his desperation Steve overpowered him and took it back, dropping the other handkerchief. Tommy watched as his own favor sat on the ground.
"You really are fucking a peasant, aren't you?"
"I think that's enough, Mr. Hagan", Steve's father, a Mr. Martin Harrington, entered the room.
"How could you let him into my room!?", Steve accused.
"Your room? Now I do believe this house is in my name. And I am within my rights to allow Mr. Hagan into any room I please. As for the courting, I have already given my permission for him to do so. And he has already given you all the gifts required. They're right their in your antechamber. You would have seen them, had you been in your room last night."
Steve held the cloth to his heart. He didn't like where this was going. What the last gift was supposed to mean. "You can't expect me to marry him."
"Oh you will, in about three days time."
"You don't think people will be suspicious about the short engagement?"
"Everyone knows that Mr. Hagan's had his eye on you. And you, of course, have not been entertaining any other suitors", Mr. Harrington's eyes narrowed on what Steve held. "Young love is so passionate these days. I highly doubt anyone will bat an eye at it. It's best you forget about all else and prepare for your wedding. Your mother wants it to be a grand affair."
"Father please-"
"As a matter of fact, I see no reason not to have you both live as newly weds now. Mr. Hagan can stay here until the wedding, where you will be housed in his estate. Keep my Steve out of trouble", he said to Tommy.
Tommy nodded. "Of course."
Steve wanted to cry out but knew it would do him no good. He spent the whole day, trying to plan some sort of escape. But there was always someone with him. That someone was usually Tommy, who looked like he was fine marrying Steve with a broken leg. Night fell and Tommy laid himself in Steve's nest. The one place he had felt safe besides Eddie's arms. Ruined.
Steve opted to sleep in the other room, on a couch most certainly not meant for sleeping. Tommy only urged him a little, seemingly assured that Steve would come around eventually. Steve checked the window and of course there was a man guarding down below. He didn't even have to check the hallway, hearing heavy boots pass over his door every few minutes, making sure no one was coming in or out.
Steve felt his heart clench as the hours pass and the first rays of sun began to shine.
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Eddie was waiting. The gangway was right behind him and the crew was ready to shove off. He knew only death would keep Steve from being here. Eddie was dreading something worse than death when he saw Jason Carver of all people stepping out of a carriage, looking smug as always.
"Waiting for someone, freak?"
"Where is Steve?", Eddie demanded, cutting through the bullshit.
"He has other more important things to attend to. Marriage can be quite time consuming business. I'm here to make sure you get on that boat."
"Like hell I'm leaving without him!"
Any fight Eddie put up was tamped down by the two lugs Carver had brought along, muscling him into a tight hold as they tied him up with rope and gagged him. Jason only put his hands on him to procure the boarding passes.
"He'll only be needing one of these", Jason said to the captain as Eddie was carried on board, struggling. "You can untie him once you're a good distance from the shore."
Eddie was screaming his lungs out from the gag in his mouth but it was anyone's guess as to what he was actually saying. The captain shook his head, sympathetic, but not enough to help Eddie out or get involved in any way. About an hour into the voyage, he was released and the first thing he did was try and jump overboard.
"Best to let go of whatever you just left behind", the captain said, patting his shoulder as a couple of sailors held him back from jumping into the sea.
"The love of my life is still there! He needs me! They're gonna...fuck...they're gonna..." Eddie knew what awaited Steve in his family had discovered them. He laid his head against the wood, determined to find his way back to him. He knew the captain wouldn't let him take any of the rowboats, and the crew kept watch on him like they expected him to steal it.
Their plan could still work. It didn't matter if they forced him into marriage, Steve would still love him. Eddie was just getting a headstart on building their new life.
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The prospect of marrying Tommy under duress made him sick to his stomach but not knowing Eddie's fate made him feel worse. Steve didn't want to believe that Eddie would leave without him, but the alpha himself had admitted there wasn't anything left for him in this town. With him having an uncle overseas, Steve didn't think Eddie planned to stay much longer, even if they hadn't planned to elope.
But if he was still here, he would have shown his face by now, wouldn't he? He wouldn't leave Steve here all alone. Especially when the wedding announcement went out. Steve held out hope, even as his wedding day came, that Eddie would burst in like a blaze and whisk him away.
As if reading his thoughts, his mother brought it up while preparing him for the day. He had mostly tuned her out. She seemed determined to ignore the breach of courting customs in favor of the fact that her only child was finally being wed. A load off her shoulders apparently. But she started talking about her worries about whoever Steve had been running around with and that brought him back in.
"Well, thank the Lord, Mr. Carver put him on a boat. We won't need to worry about him anymore."
"He what?"
"Shipped him right off. Now you only have to think about keeping Mr. Hagan happy. And all the handsome pups you'll have of course."
Steve was a ghost at his own wedding and if anyone noticed, they didn't say anything. He didn't come back into himself until night fell and Tommy tried to make him perform his wifely duties. Steve smacked him across the face at the first slight and kicked him out of the bedroom.
He kept the cold shoulder up for about a week before both his mother and father reprimanded him. Told him that after marriage, his next task was to let his husband lay his seed and continue the family line. The last thing Steve wanted was Tommy's hands on him, much less his seed in him. But he supposed he could let the man sleep in his own bedroom.
Tommy made his favorite tea as a peace offering, placating Steve with sweet words.
"You are my wife, my partner in everything. I only want you to be happy."
Steve wanted to believe that, he really did. And he was tired of putting up a fight. So he drank the tea. It fogged his mind and the rest of the night seemed like a hazy dream. And not a good one. His suspicions were confirmed when he awoke with an ache in his lower body.
Steve started to pack a bag right then and there. He couldn't stay here. Not if this was to be his life. Tears were streaming down his face at the violation. Tommy was just standing to the side, looking at him like he was a petulant child.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Leaving! Like I should have done in the first place."
"And where the hell are you going to go? A runaway omega with no skills, probably with a pup on the way?"
Steve froze and Tommy grinned, advancing on him from behind. He put his chin on Steve's shoulder and the omega whirled around, trying to put space between them.
"I went in deep last night. I kept you knotted and filled. I know it took. You leave now and you'll have no one to help you with our son."
Steve put a hand to his stomach. He didn't want to imagine trying to make his way and raise a child at the same time. No one would want to take him in, an omega with nothing to his name.
"What would you even do anyway? You've got no skills to speak of. Unless you want to be hired based on your bedroom skills."
Steve was too stunned to speak. He hated agreeing to Tommy, so he stormed out. But out just meant out into another part of the Hagan estate. Just another wing of this gilded cage.
Months passed and Steve's belly grew and he didn't know whether or not he hoped this pup was Eddie's. If there was any doubt about it being Tommy's they might give it away, or worse. It wasn't supposed to be like this. His first child was to be met with nothing but glee in a land as big as their dreams. But now he was dreading every development.
Even as he went into labor, it felt like it was happening to someone else. It wasn't until the baby was in his arms, that he realized what he had to do. Regardless of the true parentage, this child deserved all the love in the world. And considering how Tommy was, it would all have to come from Steve. He gave birth to a beautiful girl, so he was able to escape Tommy trying to name their first child after himself.
And so she was christened Octavia Hagan. And Steve worked his hardest to do right by her. It was never easy, not when his heart was a thousand miles away. But by the time she was two, Steve was sure of it. The big brown eyes and the light curl to her hair was enough proof. She was Eddie's. But it was also just enough to deny any accusations that might come his way, not that there was any.
Steve scrounged what he could and hid the money in a bookcase in Octavia's nursery. He might not be able to guarantee her the best quality of life, but anything was worth freedom. And perhaps they might even find Eddie one day. It was this that had Steve holding out hope.
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It took five years, but Eddie returned. he was dressed in clothes much finer than he'd left in, disembarking a vessel in which he had voyaged in first class. Being a musician that sold out venues had its perks. He held the marriage announcement that had come to the shores years ago. The marriage of Thomas and Stephen Munson, nee Harrington, and then later the birth announcement.
Eddie was here to make good on a promise.
Steve was none the wiser. All he knew was that Tommy was taking him out to see a famed violinist Edgar Wainson for his final night before the man took his show to Paris. Tommy was only going for appearances. His opinion on culture was whatever everyone else thought.
Steve had an appreciation for it, remembering how Eddie would play his fiddle both when they were alone and to earn some extra coin on streets and in taverns. He instilled it in Octavia as well, teaching her piano and allowing her to toss some coins to the street musicians they passed when Tommy wasn't around to scold them about it.
So he brought her along. Where he went, his pup went. Even now, Steve thought if he took his eyes off her for too long, something bad would happen.
The show started and the violinist took the stage and Steve's jaw dropped. Like a man possessed, he stood from his seat, then went into the aisle. Eddie's playing slowed as he watched someone approach. He stopped altogether when he saw who it was. He ignored the gasps as he dropped the violin and jumped off the stage to meet Steve who had broke into a run to meet him.
"I'm sorry!", Steve exclaimed the moment their arms went around each other. "I'm sorry I wasn't there I was-"
"I know, I know my love. I'm sorry I wasn't back sooner I was-"
"I know. God in Heaven Eddie, I know. But you're here now."
"And I'm never letting you go", Eddie promised, kissing him so hard, Steve thought his lips might be bruised, but he didn't care.
"GET OFF!!", Tommy bellowed, struggling through the row of people to get to them.
Unbidden thanks to her smile size and thought to go around the other way where there were less people, Octavia ran up to them, grabbing at Steve's pant leg.
"Mother?"
"Oh, a little one?", Eddie looked down, clearing his throat.
Steve whispered in Eddie's ear. "Your little one."
Eddie's eyes got big as he looked back and forth between Steve and Octavia. He felt something swell in his chest.
"I'll see you hanged for this, you vagrant!", Tommy yelled, finally at them.
Eddie's eyes narrowed. He could only imagine what he'd put Steve through if he was still like this. He still had a promise to make good on.
"Stevie, my muse, my light, there is a vow I still intend to keep."
"Eddie...."
The was murmuring from the audience, unsure of what to make of any of this. It was certainly an odd night at the concert hall. Eddie held Steve's hands, then got down on his knees.
"Runaway with me. Tonight, right now, both of you."
They hadn't packed or prepared anything. There was hardly any money on him and wherever they went, there was sure to be a chase, at least for a while. It wouldn't be easy, but Steve had already missed his chance once. He wouldn't miss it again.
"On your feet", he ordered. "You've got to get me to an altar."
Tommy's protests were unheard, even as he chased after the three of them. Eddie took the first carriage they saw, barreling down the road. Steve was surprised when they came upon the Hagan home. But Eddie told him he wouldn't let Steve leave without taking anything important. He wanted a moment to assure Eddie that he was the most important thing, but Tommy would be hot on their heels the moment he got a carriage. Hopefully the confusion of the headliner running off would give them time.
Steve got things for both himself and Octavia, including directing her on where to find his stash of money. They then went right to the docks, finding a boat that was shoving off that night.
"Where are you headed?", Eddie asked.
"Spain", was the answer.
"Perfect", Steve said, giving enough money for all three and also to expedite the departure.
Tommy would either be expecting France or the Americas. Only when they were settled below deck and the shore was a tiny dot in the dark did Steve's nerves settle. Octavia was pressed to his side and he kissed the top of her head. It was probably even more of a whirlwind for her, running off with this man she had never met. Time to change that.
"Sweetheart, this is Eddie. In truth, he is your real father."
"Pleasure to meet you madame", Eddie gave a sweeping bow, making her giggle.
"Are we all going to live together now?", she asked.
"Til the end of our days", Eddie promised.
"What about father?", she asked Steve, referring to Tommy.
"God willing, we'll never see him again."
It took them the whole night, plus a day and a half to get to Spain. The sun was setting, but they managed to find a church. They were wary of how they might be received, but the man who saw to them had a milky eye with a scar over it, so he must've had a well lived life. Octavia was their very willing witness, and so they were wed in a port town that they didn't know the name of.
"Well, it took longer than we planned, but we're finally starting our lives together", Eddie said as they settled in the beds of an inn. Octavia was already deep in her own slumber in her own cot.
Eddie was laying in bed ready to snuff out the light as Steve got in next to him. When he did, only the moon from the window lit their features. Steve grabbed Eddie's face and pulled him in for a kiss. One that was slow and deep as his hand started drifting down.
"Here?", Eddie whispered, apprehensive but doing nothing to stop him. He glanced at the child on the other side of the room.
"She sleeps like the dead. Besides, you owe me a wedding night."
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hazbinhotelie · 3 days
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Would you ever consider doing Alastor with a Mobster Reader?
(I have no idea how this would work and I don’t feel like doing proper research as to how the Mob works so here’s my best try)
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“Don’t move,” I said, pressing the barrel of the gun to the radio demons head.
“Oh, this gives me Deja vu,” he said lightly. He chuckled and tried to look at me but I held him firmly in place.
“I said not to move,” I growled, keeping him pinned. “Or I’ll have to shoot.”
“Have to? You say that as if you don’t want to kill me,” he noted. He tried to catch a glimpse of me through his peripheral vision but couldn’t. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I’d rather not stain my clothes with blood,” I replied, nonchalant. “This is my favorite outfit.”
“Ah, but surely there must be another reason,” he said with a grin. In an instant he was gone, as if he’d disappeared into the shadows. I narrowed my eyes, then jumped when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Over here, darling.”
“That was rude,” I said, lowering my gun. We both knew I never even stood a chance against him. I was wondering why he was still here.
“Like I said, Deja vu. I didn’t appreciate the memories that brought back,” he said, radio static crackling louder. His neck seemed to bend into an unnatural position, the alleyway we were in growing much darker and more eerie. I shuddered. “Now, tell me, who in their right mind would send an average sinner demon like yourself after an overlord like me?”
I froze, hesitated for a moment, then told him. I had nothing to lose. I wasn’t the most loyal of people, and I didn’t feel like being killed by the cannibal standing before me. If I ever returned to my boss, I’d get a death that didn’t involve being eaten or ripped to shreds.
“Ah,” he said with a nod. All the malice in the atmosphere lifted, and he returned to normal. “I’ve heard of that group. I’ll be sure to stop by and give them a proper warning for messing with the radio demon.” He paused for a moment, thoughtful as he looked at me. I still had my gun in hand, but I was making no attempt to harm him. “You’re a new member, aren’t you? You must be awfully skilled for them to send fresh meat like you my way.”
“I..” I fumbled, not knowing what to say. Was he going to kill me? Why hadn’t he killed me the moment I put the gun to his head? What did he want, why had he kept me alive? “I am new, yes.”
“Mm,” he said. “Then you haven’t sold your soul to them, have you?”
“No,” I replied truthfully. I put my gun away, not seeing a point to holding it anymore. “I haven’t.”
“Good. I have a proposal to make,” he said with a grin. He walked up to me and linked our arms, walking me down the street with him as if we were friends.
“A… proposal?” I asked, giving him a look. My other hand hovered over the holster for my gun. I had no shot of killing him, but if I was in danger I’d like to at least put up a fight. There were also other demons and sinners, too. They could attack at any moment, and I wasn’t sure the radio demon would keep me from harms way.
“I think we should make a deal,” he said cheerfully. “You give me your soul and I won’t kill you.”
“That’s not a particularly good deal,” I noted, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not the only one capable of hurting me. A random demon could kill me, an imp could kill me. Hell, a dedicated duck could kill me. You aren’t that special.”
“You make a good point,” he said. He laughed to himself, though I didn’t know why. “Hm, you are a level headed one, aren’t you? I do think you’d make a good addition to my collection.”
“Your collection?”
“Yes,” he said. He snapped his fingers and spindly creatures emerged from the shadows, trailing after us. They looked sewn up and jagged, unlike any demon I’d seen before. “These are my shadow creatures. This is what happens when I receive a soul but have no use of it anymore. It’s also what happens when I’m in a bad mood and some poor sinner happens to upset me.” He eyed me, a predatory grin on his face. “A poor sinner who was only doing their job as apart of the Mob, a poor sinner like you.”
“Ah,” I said, understanding. “That’s just another threat, though. If you were really in such a bad mood, you’d have done it the moment I attacked you. You’ve kept me alive, you’re walking with me now. You’re either enjoying yourself, getting some sort of entertainment from seeing me nervous, or you’ve got something in mind that you’d like to use me for. That’s why you want to make a deal, isn’t it?”
“You’re observant,” he stated. Dodging the question. He dismissed the unsettling shadow creatures and we continued our walk. “Still have your hand by your gun, too. You’re smart enough to avoid conflict when you can and try to appease me, but you’re never going down without a fight. Interesting. Interesting indeed…” he muttered to himself as we walked, sinners jumping out of our way. I wasn’t comfortable around him, but he was intriguing. “What if I changed the rules of the deal? Made it a bit more fair and beneficial to you?”
“I think that’d be good,” I said, keeping a poker face. “What exactly would I gain?”
“I’ll protect you from any serious harm, especially by imps, everyday sinners, and the like. You’ll have a nice place to stay, and I’ll ensure your boss and associates don’t come after you. You’ll be free from the mobs grasp, and completely safe from them,” he said, still thinking.
“And food? Clothing? Possessions?” I asked, tilting my head inquisitively.
“I will ensure you have the means to eat a proper meal, get some rest, and the like. I know other Overlords dictate what the souls they own wear, and what they keep, but I don’t particularly care for that. You may wear whatever you want and own whatever possessions you’d like,” he replied, a hint of disdain creeping in his voice at the mention of other overlords. “I won’t keep you from living your life, I simply have a few rules alongside your requirements for working for me.”
“Okay,” I said with a nod. That made sense, it seemed reasonable. I hadn’t expected him to be so…. fair. It was almost generous, coming from an overlord. “What would be expected of me?”
“First and above all else, you can’t betray me,” he said, snapping his attention to me directly. Now I had his undivided attention and he was giving me a stern look. “You may not go against me or harm me in anyway. You are not allowed to take part in any plan that could negatively impact on me.”
“Okay, you want me to be loyal, then,” I said. I thought for a moment, then smiled. “That won’t be hard at all. You’re quite nice, you know. Not what I expected from the radio demon, but it’s a pleasant surprise.”
“I’ve been threatening you for half the time I’ve known you,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. “In any case, your actual job is to help me with my endeavors at the Hazbin Hotel. If I ask you to do something for me or anyone there, so long as it has to do with the hotel or protecting its inhabitants, you must comply. Understood?”
“Yep,” I said with a quick nod. “That’s the one for rehabilitating sinners, right?”
“Yes, I take it you’ve actually heard of it? What, are you interested in the concept?” He asked, giving me a look. He seemed surprised at the very notion.
“Eh. Not currently. I think it’s cool, but that’s not why I was asking,” I said with a shrug. I looked away from him for a moment, nervous again. “It’s just some of my possessions could be considered contraband in a place like that.”
“Oh,” he said, quieter. He thought for a moment, then nodded. “I’m not quite sure what you mean specifically, but as long as you’re not putting the hotel in any danger, it will be allowed. Weapons, especially. A bigger part of your job will be protecting the hotel and its inhabitants. We have a few people who like to venture into town often, and you will be expected to accompany them.”
“As a sort of bodyguard.”
“Yes, precisely,” he replied. “Now, I do think that is everything we have to discuss. Do we have a deal?”
I thought it over for a moment, going over each thing we’d discussed. Then, I shook his hand. “Yes,” I said.
“Good. It was a pleasure doing business with you, my dear.”
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arian-velikan · 11 hours
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They called him
Part-1
Sick!Male!Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley
Warnings: violence, heavy depiction of blood, corpses, bullying and then we got the fluff...the happiness we deserve.
@silkbunnies
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{Male} "Rampage" {Reader}...a difficult being to say the least, always on the front line and ready to get his hands soaked in the blood of his enemies.
"Rampage" they called him, for single handedly taking down the bosses of a drug cartel in Mexico that had connections to Spain and Brazil and possibly England and Italy...personal reasons? Who knows why he was acting like that...
"Rampage" they called him, for always risking his life for the 4 he cared about the most, the ones that were his only family, expecially for his one and only special someone.
"Rampage" they called him, for being...a monster in other's eyes, a cold, stoic and 1.92 m. (6"3) uncaring barbarian that preferred to be in a room full of decayed corpses rather than a room full of people.
"Monster" they called him, for having always an easy trigger whether be angriness or the one of an assault rifle.
"Street dog" they called him, for being the target or his last teammates and rumors of having a dead family under the date of his birthday as a birthday gift from his uncle from the cartel.
"Whore" they called him, for casually discovering he liked men.
"Barracks Bunny" they called him...for just discovering that, when he was 16 years old, he had a now ex-boyfriend.
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Location - Tundra, snowy plains
Time - 04:00 am
Mission - hunt down possible traffickers base for illigal weapon storage and selling of retired but still functioning nuclear military equipment.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
The enviroment is quiet and that silence was sometimes silently ripped away from thw flying of owls or the occasional snarls of carnivores hunting in the back ground. Pulsing ehite stars gave the ground a faint light, enough to just see the outline of the white woolly shoes all of them were wearing.
'Dogs, I hate dogs'
Price said while croucing in the snow that was filling his brown beard to the brim. Walking slowly, he approached Gaz that was laying down on the white carpet with his sniper rifle keeping an eye on any movement.
'Do ya hate yourself Cap.? Never thought you could do that'
The man near John smiled and huffed out a visible white smoke from his mouth.
'Shut it Seargent, if I have to be a dog, then I want to be a retired Great Pirenees'.
He puffed out a laugh laying down and getting from the back of his bulletproof grey vest, a pair of night vision goggles and a thermal display.
'I cant detect any movement'
He pushed the button over the comms and the microphone on his head-casket activeted giving a light buzz.
'Rampage, Soap, Ghost, we cant detect any movement from here. Procede with caution from the opposite side'
Price gave the order and turned off the comms.
'Roger that Bravo 6. Moving on.'
Soap turned around and gave a nod to the other two. Ghost was eyeing the faint lights of the secret entrance of the base while Rampage, while sitting on a rock, was cleaning his M4. They looked at John and they all moved quietly.
'It's going to be hard if we go all together, better going off on different directions.'
Rampage spoke lowly since his mouth was restrained by the long exposure to the cold. He got up, put his M4 back into place and took a step forward, then another and another. His boots dived into the thick stone crunching the twigs inside the dead earthly mat. He signaled the others to turn on the night vision goggles as the lights on their helmes could attract attencion.
They moved along and the base entrance was just 300 m away, the grey dark steel door was well hidden and sentinels where guarding it. Soap was the furthest away, hidden in a bush, he pointed his sniper to the guards and so did Rampage who was on his left 20 meters away.
'Bravo 6 to Soap, Ghost and Rampage. Report'
Ghost was the first one to pick up as he was in the middle.
'We are at the other side of the base. Waiting for confirm.'
Ghost responded while giving a nod to both of his friends.
'We are at the main entrace, guards under shooting range'
'Permission to move forward.'
Low shots exploded as the guards fell down with a stream of crimson blood. The night time was the best for these kinds of missions but black clouds were starting to cover the starry sky. In swift movements they entered the base.
It was dark and quiet, too quiet...green lights at the edge of the narrow tunnels filled with diesel stench and very old pumps were emitting slow and annoying whistles. The only sounds that accompanied those were the ones Rampage who decided to controll this aisle alone.
'Fuck me...this is a fuxking maze...' he whispered as he eyed the glass of a door with a decomposing body behind it. His nose itched and sneezed not emitting a sound, then he sneezed again, this time louder. He felt his head heavy and vision blurry...surely a decomposing body wasnt gonna be a problem for him, right?.
'Ugh, bleh' He snarled as he moved forward shaking his head to get his mind back into place since he was starting to feel very cold out of knowhere.
★------------------------💀--------------------------★
Loud remainings of explosions ringed into his ears, and his vision betrayed him by showing him a blurry and painfull vision. His body ached all over and burned deep down his joints. He was on one of the beds of the military infirmary. Why was he there? Wasn't he near the room with the decaying corpse inside?.
'Morning {Male!Reader}, sunshine of 141. Had a beautifull beauty sleep, didn't we? Well not really since you where almost dead on the med-evac.'
A familiar voice rang near his already hurt ears. That annoying scottish accent...that must have been Johnny?.
'What the...? How the fuck, how I am here and not in the Tundra?'
His muscles burned with a linger of cold and he felt his throat dry.
'Well, yesterday of course. That sudden explosion did caught you off guard didnt it?'
Rampage turned his tired skull to the other. John was sitting on a chair at the side of the bed wearing a jacket and gloves, his head was tilted to the side as he watched you buried under wool sheets.
'Don't move, you took quiet a blow there and the fever surely had it's effect too...'
He pushed him down back to bed, the mere touch scorched like hell on his skin but Soap couldn't know.
'Why the jacket Scot-head? Cold?'
{Male!Reader} teased sitting back up on the hard bed with fatigue and a suppressed laugh with a grin. He had an half closed eye thanks to the now permanent new scar on his left eye...new addition to his glasgow smile...
'You can say soo...he sighed, we all took a beating and some flu but you were the worst put one actually'
Johnny headed to the door and put a hand on the door-knob.
'{Male!Reader}, rest well ok?'
He turned around as he spoke, a look of pity painted on his eyes.
'Yes yes, not that I have anything else to do anyway'
He sounded tired as he groaned and scratched his head. He warched the door of his room close and felt the silence on him weight like a heavy blanket. He looked around, he saw the messy desk, neatly done wardrobe and laundry and...the back and white wool blanket.
It was a gift from Ghost for their 10th anniversary. Since they were on deployment for at least one year, they couldnt really get anything for eachother so Ghost opted for aomething he could get between the short leave days and well...{Male!Reader} didnt have time to do anything since he was asked (more obliged) to stay at base and do paperwork and train the new recruits. All of that stress made him more exposed to catching colds or what more and that made him more stressed that he was before.
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princesscallyie · 1 year
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I know shipping isn’t everything when it comes to engaging with content, but like… why am I always destined for crackship/rare pair hell? Why can’t I like a normal ship for once so I can enjoy an abundance of fan content and don’t have to create it myself? 😩
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Why do boys have to be like that. Why did you start off as an awkward teen with a mullet and now you're a few years older with bone structure like an ancient statue and the whitest smile I've ever seen and i've only just noticed your eyes are blue
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miserycanary · 1 month
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DEFINITELY NUTS ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & model!fem!reader
synopsis: Ghost mentions you but 141 doesn't believe that he got a wife
tags: crack (well, attempted), fluff
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Ghost’s strict rules for privacy are something the 141 has known for years now. He’s not the type of person to blab about his personal life and often chooses just to keep quiet. So, imagine their surprise when he suddenly says that he’s going to take a day off because his wife asked him to watch a play. 
“Price, ‘am not gonna be here tomorrow. Got a date with my missus.”
All eyes are on him, everyone stills. “WIFE? Since when?!” Soap exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were almost bulging out his eyes. “Never told you about her?” Ghost hums, unamused by the Scottish’s exclaim. “Johnny here does have a reasonable reaction. You never tell us anything ‘bout you, mate,” Price joined, chuckling and pulling out a cigar. The man just contemplates before brushing it off and bidding farewell, leaving the group confused. 
“Ain’t no way he’s telling us the truth. That man ain’t got no bone in his body to bag someone,” Soap voiced out, looking for anyone to support his disbelief. “I mean..” Gaz whistles out, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head as if he’s agreeing to some extent. That’s when, unbeknownst to Ghost, he got the reputation of being delusional and a liar. 
Soap, still doubtful days later, watches the lieutenant with a vision like a hawk. “Hey, lieutenant.” Ghost snaps his head up, looking at him. “How was the date with your wife?” Immediately, everyone else stopped what they were doing, silently listening. It was obvious he was baiting Ghost, emphasizing the wife as if putting on quotes. They weren’t as nosy as Soap but each one of them still held a bit of doubtness that the brick wall of the team managed to get a girl, and even marry her.
“It was okay. The missus had fun,” Ghost chuckles, fondly remembering how you were beaming on the way, rambling about the plot of the play. “Can we see pictures?” Soap smirked thinking he finally got the lieutenant but was taken aback when Ghost only shrugged and pulled out his phone before freezing. “Ah, we didn’t take pictures yesterday. Said she wanted to live in the moment.” 
Soap whipped his head to signal to Gaz, seemingly saying ‘See? He’s definitely lying! How convenient he has no pictures.” 
“How about just a picture of your wife?” Kyle suggested, now invested while Price seemed to be shaking his head in the corner. “I have none with me but..” With a few clicks, Ghost holds up his phone for everyone to see. Like birds, everyone flocked around him, curious to see. For a while, everyone was surprised and sure the man was lying. I mean, he just showed them a picture of a drop-dead gorgeous model from a magazine! 
‘He's definitely lost it’ everyone seemed to think, offering pity glances at the man who had this prideful shine in his eyes. Walking up to his superior, Soap patted him on the back. “It’s fine, mate… we understand how difficult it must be.” ‘not having a lady at all’
Thinking Johnny meant about your hectic schedule, he agreed. “It’s quite tough but we make it work,” he chuckled which made everyone wince.
‘Definitely nuts!’
Weeks passed after that and the topic never got brought up, until Ghost came in with a bento in hand covered with a handkerchief with frilly ends. When asked about it, he replied, “Ah, wife’s testing out recipes for an upcoming TV show. ‘S been practicing and asked me to bring one.” Once again, he was given pity glances and even heard a defeated sigh from Soap. 
‘He’s too far gone’
“How’s work?” you ask, dazedly paying attention to the movie you guys put, more invested in burying your face in Simon’s chest while he drapes both arms on your waist, completely engulfing your torso under his muscles. “Been getting a few weird stares,” he mumbles, playing with your hair and pressing kisses on your forehead. “Why?” you peer up, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I don’ know, princess.”
Meanwhile…
“Should we just… finally set the lieutenant on a date? I feel bad. I mean, he even lied about his “wife” making him lunch,” Johnny sighed.
“Probably the best idea,” Kyle nodded.
Now Price… he knows the truth. He met you before when you dropped by, asking for Ghost— which ended horribly— but he’ll lying if he said he’s not getting a kick out of this.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: probably won't be posting for a while :] Did you guys notice the hint to my previous work? Please do. 😔
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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ode2rin · 11 days
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new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)
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You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 
And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.
Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.
Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.
Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 
He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.
The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 
There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.
“Are we… alright?” he drawled.
What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 
He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.
Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.
“Okay, Rin.”
That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.
“Are you mad at me?” 
“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?
“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.
You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)
“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”
“You so are!” 
“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”
There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.
“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”
“Not to you, it’s not!”
A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 
Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”
“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.
With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 
“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.
“I’m not childish.”
“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”
Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.
“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 
“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.
The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 
They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.
He was now something more, something special.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.
It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 
Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 
It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 
You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.
Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”
“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.
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note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.
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obsessedwithceleste · 2 months
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Til It’s Gone
Theodore Nott x reader
Based on this cute lil request 🤗
Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)
word count: 3.2k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.
“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.
Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.
“Theo.”
“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.
Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.
The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.
“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”
“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.
Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.
“Theo?”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.
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He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.
“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.
Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.
“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”
The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.
“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.
Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.
They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.
The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.
“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.
Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.
“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”
“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.
Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.
“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.
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“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.
“It’s Theo.”
“That’s what I said.”
You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.
Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.
It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.
You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.
Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.
That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.
The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.
“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.
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The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.
Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.
“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.
Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.
“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.
“Oh fuck off you two.”
Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.
“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”
“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”
“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”
“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”
With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.
Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.
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For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.
It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.
Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.
And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.
It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.
It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.
“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.
Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.
It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.
The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.
“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.
“Theodore?”
Theo glares at the use of the name.
“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.
With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.
“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.
“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”
"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.
"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."
Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.
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As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.
It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.
But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.
Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.
“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”
A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.
“Just a special friend,” you reply.
After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.
Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.
After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.
There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.
Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.
You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.
“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.
With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.
With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.
“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.
You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.
“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.
“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.
To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.
"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.
"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."
"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."
"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.
"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.
You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.
A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.
Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"
"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.
"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"
His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.
"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.
"I think I can have that arranged."
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Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽
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forlix · 7 months
Text
𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 !・h.h.
— you’re just trying to do your job; your client has other ideas.
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.3k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・very suggestive so mdni, reader implied to be shorter than hyunjin 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, flirting, humor, big fwb vibes
𝐚/𝐧・this took me less than half an hour to write i am actually the biggest sucker for this trope. also, we hit another milestone recently!! i appreciate all of you immensely; look forward to more ♡
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[!]・hi hey hello as of one month later a full-length fic based on this au has been posted!! here it is; you can read the two in any order. ok bye much love
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“Five ���til!” A crew member calls into a walkie-talkie, and you’re so surprised by this information that you stumble right over him, your heel ungracefully ramming into the poor man’s toes. 
You apologize hurriedly, bowing yourself out of the awkward situation—and then you check your watch. 7:55 P.M. A quiet "shit" leaves your lips as it dawns on you that you'd completely lost track of time.
Briefly, you contemplate your predicament, drumming the palette of makeup you’re holding in your right hand against the palm of your left: do I have to? Is it really necessary? But you know your answer even as you’re asking yourself the questions. You’re damn meticulous—sometimes to a fault, but always to your own satisfaction.
You had a vision, and you’re going to see it through.
With impeccable timing, your coworker appears out of nowhere, and you fasten a hand around her arm. “Hey, where are the members again?”
“Stage left.” Then she registers your question in full, and snaps her eyes to your face; stylists were supposed to have finished up with their respective members nearly an hour ago. “Hang on, are you out of your mind—”
“I won’t be a minute!” You call, scurrying away.
“You won’t be employed!” She returns, but you’ve already disappeared into the curtains’ dense shadows.
You jog a short distance, turn a few corners, and finally spot the eight members clad in outfits of varying amounts of silver and black, every inch of them so sparkly that they’re reflective, even with how little light reaches this part of the stage.
You’re looking for one man in particular, though, and you single him out right away: long, black locks falling into his eyes as he adjusts his microphone, broad shoulders and tall frame flattered perfectly by an obsidian suit, looking like he fell off a Paris Fashion Week runway and into a wormhole that teleported him to Osaka.
All your doing, by the way.
“Hwang Hyunjin!” You shout, and he (along with several of the other members) whips around at the sound. And Hyunjin furrows a perfect brow when his stylist materializes before him, four minutes to curtain up, wielding a palette of makeup like it’s a baseball bat.
“Are you out of your mind?” He calls.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You lift a pointer finger into the air and curl it twice. “Come here. Hurry."
Hyunjin gives the others an apologetic glance before hurrying over, and you are met with a blast of Byredo Blanche when he arrives in front of you, the expression on his face equal parts amused and confused.
“Down,” you say, flicking open the eyeshadow palette with one hand.
And then Hyunjin understands. A loud, uninhibited laugh leaves his lips, a sound you’ve become so accustomed to by now that you’re completely oblivious to the fact that only you bring it out of him.
“You really are something,” he says, spreading his feet apart until he’s brought himself to your eye level.
With that, you get to work, one hand gathering some eyeshadow on the pads of your fingers, the other moving to hold his shoulder. Brushes are luxuries you can’t afford right now.
“Close your eyes,” you direct, your voice softer now that your face is only inches away from his, and Hyunjin heeds your words obediently. You begin to dab the crimson powder against the curve of his lids, careful to avoid messing up the rest of his eye makeup. His lashes flutter involuntarily at your gentle touch.
“A shadow to match the lip,” you murmur absently. “I pictured it and knew it had to happen."
Hyunjin makes a sound of approval, and then there is that smirk on his face, the one you’ve learned only means trouble. “You’ve been thinking about my face the whole night, then?”
“No. I’ve been thinking about whether vegetables can feel pain,” you deadpan. “Yes, I've been thinking about your face. It’s my job.”
“Is that all?”
“Sure is.” You blow gently on his finished eye and move on to the other. “Now save your voice for the stage.”
He obliges, but that dreadful, self-assured expression remains on his face, and you're immeasurably grateful that he can’t see the blush that you’re well aware paints your cheeks.
“Done,” you say a minute later, straightening with a confident flourish. And you think you could squeal when Hyunjin opens his eyes, and you see that the exact effect you’d hoped for has been realized: a splash of maroon that is both subtle and seductive, sleek and suave; that not only accentuates the shape of his eyes but pulls attention to his lips, which are dyed a similar hue. Damn, you’re good at your job.
“I don’t have a mirror,” you say, looking around. “I can use my phone if you want to—”
“It’s fine,” he says. “I trust you.”
You grin at this. “Good. Because you look sexy as hell."
Upon hearing your words, he straightens to his full height. You don’t think much of this at first, too busy re-examining the masterpiece you’ve created on his eyelids, but in the blink of an eye you’re suddenly aware that Hyunjin is standing conspicuously and intentionally close to you. You instinctively move away, but you’re too late; he’s already guiding your back to the wall behind you, his body enclosing yours against the smooth surface.
You send a panicked look over Hyunjin’s shoulder, only to realize that the two of you are completely out of anyone’s line of vision. That doesn’t stop the sharp hiss that leaves your lips: “Hyunjin, are you cr—”
But then there is a familiar gust of breath against your skin, a thumb over your cheekbone.
He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself when you get like this; all bossy and concentrated, an ambitious glint in your eyes, an air of confidence in your gait. He always thinks it’s ironic that your job is to make him look good when all he’s ever done is admire your beauty, so effortless and profuse that it feels timeless, like freshly bloomed forget-me-nots.
He knows he shouldn’t—but that makes him want to more.
When your lips meet, they move together with an ease and familiarity that reveal how many times you’ve done this before. He brings a hand to the small of your back, and you tangle your stained fingers in his luscious hair, the delicious pressure of his mouth upon yours rendering your reluctance (and the eyeshadow palette, which clatters noisily to the floor) momentarily forgotten.
As the kiss deepens, the bridges of your noses slide together; your every sense becomes overwhelmed by the slippery plush of his full lips and the warm caress of his large hands; you drink in the rosy musk of his cologne like your cells need it to live as opposed to oxygen. The tip of Hyunjin’s tongue teases the seam of your lips, as if requesting access, and you grant it to him with a light moan that is both blissful and thoroughly exasperated. When he hears the gorgeous sound, he has half a mind to scoop you up and leave the venue then and there.
Then, a voice bellows from not too far away: “One minute, everyone! Places, places!”
You’re so startled that you not only break away from him but jump a meter into the air, giving Hyunjin’s bicep a hearty slap on your way down. But he is entirely unbothered, dipping his head to press a trail of light kisses along your jaw instead.
“You’ll be watching the performance, yes?” He murmurs against the sensitive skin.
“Of course, what else—”
“—don’t take your eyes off me.”
And the words throw your heart against your ribs like uncooked French fries in a vat of oil.
He is just about to walk away when you realize how decidedly disheveled you’ve left him, and you yank him back to you with a fresh wave of panic. You wipe at his smudged lipstick with the cuffs of your sleeves; nitpick his hair until every strand is back in its proper place. Only when you’ve gotten rid of all the incriminating evidence do you permit him to leave.
“Thank you very much,” he says, bending into a gracious bow, the perfect image of professionalism. The facade is given away only by the upturned corner of his still-flushed lips.
“Break a leg,” you return drily.
The last thing you hear is that stupid, bright laugh before Hyunjin rejoins his members, and they step into the strobe lights together.
Even when the concert begins and the stadium is drowned in fanatical screams, the heartbeat in your ears remains the loudest sound of all—and you bury your burning face in your hands.
Hwang Hyunjin will be the death of you.
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𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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vanishingcherry · 9 months
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YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.
masterlist
๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑
The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.
"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.
"And I'm Charles"
"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"
You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.
"Are you ready?"
"Is that the first question?" he retorts.
Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."
"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."
You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.
"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?
He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."
You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"
"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.
"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."
Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.
"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"
He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.
"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."
"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.
"Fine. Uh, AUS23."
"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.
"Then what? I know its not Miami."
"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.
You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"
You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."
He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."
Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."
Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."
"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"
"Left."
"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"
"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."
You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"
He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"
"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"
"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."
"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.
"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.
"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."
He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."
"What was I wearing on our first date?"
You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."
His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"
"A lot of things, Char."
"Is that your final answer, cherie?"
"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."
"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.
"How many kids do I want?"
"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"
"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"
"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."
His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.
"What is one my hidden talents?"
You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.
"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"
The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.
"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."
Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."
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Comments:
charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME
ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me
username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have
doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts
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antimony-medusa · 2 months
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Okay so, one of my problems with creator boundaries as an event runner is that it's impossible to keep up with them all, because they're being updated, and because so much of the time you learn them when they're reported to you, you weren't in stream yourself. So it's a game of telephone, and there's a constant issue that the message gets garbled in translation.
So the stance that I've taken as an event runner is that I will not be enforcing boundaries, and everyone can decide for themselves what relationships they're comfortable with. This seemed like the best stance for me to deal with the beeduo /p /r wars, and then I have continued to see many other smaller or larger instances where I've gone "yeah, enforcing creators boundaries as an event mod is a nonstarter, I'm sticking with that".
And I've been mostly concerned about issues like— I am not an avid watcher of Gem streams! I might miss things that happen in Gem streams, I don't know what the creator's exact boundaries are for what's okay to do in her vision. But meanwhile I've been over here in Phil streams, and I've assumed that I have known Phil's boundaries, because they get repeated SO MUCH. Everybody knows— no nsfw, and then we argue about if the only shipping allowed is with Mumza (the dsmp stance) or if his continued gay flirting with men on QSMP means he's okay with shipping with them (he kissed a man on camera on QSMP, for example). That is the received wisdom about Phil's boundaries, we all know where we stand and how we're interpreting things.
And I have been like okay, Phil doesn't want to see NSFW, I don't think he's reading my Ao3 history, maybe I will read the occasional pissa fic for fun. There are some good fics in the tag, you know. I will just keep it out of his sight, and the streamer doesn't have to know, right?
Cut to today, where I'm being kicked out of a discord server for bookmarking one (1) Phil NSFW fic. They sent me a clip to prove that NSFW was against the rules and why I was getting kicked. So I watched the clip in the interest of completeness.
flickr
And guys, when I tell you my jaw fucking dropped, because I do NOT agree that anyone should have asked the streamer this, but someone got him to talk about NSFW fan work, "weirdchamp shit", and he explicitly with his mouth says that he "could not give a shit" and "everybody lets out their creativity in different ways", and "ultimately it isn't hurting anybody", and as long as he doesn't see it, he's fine with it. As long as it's kept out of his stream he's fine.
So uh, guys? I know it's not like we haven't been cautiously creeping this way ourselves, just keeping it out of the streamer's sight, but explicitly, word of god from the streamer, I think Phil NSFW has been legal this whole time.
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natalchartnurtures · 1 month
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So tell me Taylor, Who am I gonna take to be my ~Lover~?
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Want a sneak peak into who YOU'RE gonna take to be your significant-long-term partner?
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(pile 1 to 3- left to right)
~~~~~~~~~~~
Pile 1:
Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my Lover..
Let me say this. You're opening card is the ten of cups, right of the bat.. there's this beautiful love I feel between the two of you. Their presence in your life would either happen as a consequence of you resolving some of your deep subconscious beliefs that kept you limited in terms of love or.. some of you beautiful folks I feel your person will help prove your limiting beliefs around love wrong. This part of your relationship may feel a lil scary and intense but your love for them will end up helping you all the way through.
Oh wow.. I'm getting that you and your person will take on life together, almost with this feeling of being comrades. Especially during your more difficult and uncertain times, your relationship with them will only get stronger. Its giving Bestie energy ✨️ Don't we love that around here? Hehe
They really help you calm down if you're prone to anxiety and/or overthinking. Their energy has a really calming effect on you. Which is probably one of your favorite things about them 😊
I'm getting a strong message of this person being radically different from your previous partners. Maybe you are used to partners who are possessive, lack emotional intelligence and always gave you a reason to worry but I feel your person is a FAR cry from this kinda energy which will surprise you at first I'm ngl 😅 but once you get on board with the newness they bring, you'll have a beautiful relationship with them :')
"Equal give and take" I hear. Aw.
I feel like before you did the inner work with your subconscious mind, you attracted partners that weren't all that healthy but I see that as soon as you put away your wounds and old unhelpful beliefs that you might have picked up from childhood, that may have kept your energy stagnant, to rest they will show up into your life. You won't be able to miss it!
Side note: Ya'll reeeeeally remind me of Zendaya and Tom Holland. I kept having visions of them in my mind while I was channeling for your pile.. Isn't that something 👀
That was your reading, pile 1. Hope you enjoyed it!
Love and light, sweet souls ✨️
~~~~~~~~~~~~
pile 2:
And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?
Ooh.. I feel your person being highly intelligent and just really smart overall. They seem quite deep to me.. their energy is direct and doesn't really play around. They definitely come off strong to you when you first meet them. They don't seem to enjoy small talk or socializing "just for fun" they seem to take their social life really seriously which is why they might keep to themselves mostly having a very TIGHT group they let themselves mingle with.
I have to say this.. your person has developed an incredible relationship with their mind. A quite healthy one after years of suffering mental agony they have figured out how to master their own mind and as a result they seem quite mature and come off quite stable. They're giving off a strong regal vibe, like, they have a lot of self respect and/or a lot of people seem to respect your person. Your person strikes me like the kind that not everybody necessarily likes but somebody who is respected and revered (in some cases) nonetheless. Wow. Strong vibes. They could be quite an intense person too ngl. They might like to dip their toes into psychology or simply put, the Scorpionic arts or.. just be interested in the occult from time to time 👀
They may not believe in love before they meet you tbh.
They like to believe in what they have evidence for and seems like before meeting you they simply hadn't find evidence of real love.. aw, that's low-key so cute!
Your person comes off quite practical and earthy. They may move in a very strategic way, keeping their plans (and their life in general) mostly to themselves.. which is giving PRIVATE energy. They seem hella private 👀 haha
So you know they're gonna keep your relationship to themselves like it's a scared, precious thing that they gotta safeguard :')
Meeting you will POSITIVELY flip their world upside down. If there's one thing they don't understand, its love and romance. When you walk into their life, being your cute ass self, they won't know what to do with themselves and despite them being successful in their lives prior to meeting you, they'd feel lost with you. You make them feel.. dumb haha. Or they perceive it that way. You might think it to be ridiculously cute lmao.
They're definitely gonna feel A BURNING passion for you right from the get go and that's how they'll know that you're their person!
That was your reading, pile 2. Hope you enjoyed it!
Love and light, sweet souls ✨️
~~~~~~~~~~~~
pile 3:
My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be over-dramatic and true to my lover
So.. you guy's person and you come together in an interesting way. This is immediately telling me that your person is someone you don't expect to fall in love with. Ya'll might know each other for a while (depending on each person for how long exactly) and the feelings develop overtime. For some this person might reveal their feelings on accident while being drunk one night or something along those lines lmao (very specific, so take that with a grain of salt) lol but yea it's gonna be one of those really cute friends-to-lovers type situation with you and your person or enemies-to-lovers too maybe? 👀 Some KANTHONY vibes coming through #Bridgerton <3
Haha anyway.
You won't foresee a relationship between you and your person before it happens :p
Your person.. seems to have endured a partner before you (or many partners) who didn't really care for them. This may even be a feminine friend/family member as well. They broke your person's heart in a significant way and may even have manipulated you person into staying in the relationship (be it romantic or otherwise) which they eventually stood up to. Seems like a Karmic situation too btw. This Karmic situation, really helped your person grow and evolve into the person who was truly meant for you tho 😊 yay. They've healed from this previous heartbreak and somehow this road of healing brings them to you. Ah.. The reason why this previous relationship is coming into picture is because- they probably meet you while healing from this old situation.. they'd be hard at work trying to resolve the pain the went through and their reward for doing that is.. your love. AW. STOP IT! THAT'S CUTE <3
Ya'll remind me of that song "You Belong With Me" by our queen Taylor Swift. The lyrics are playing through my head now as I channel your person's energy. You could have additional messages in that song 😊
That was your reading, pile 3. Hope you enjoyed it!
Love and light, sweet souls ✨️
~~~~~~~~~~~~
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weirdworldofwinnie · 6 months
Text
Happy Halloween!🎃Here's a treat for all you Jonathan Crane lovers out there:
Face Me...
Dr. Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only smut)
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Summary: You work at Arkham Asylum in Gotham and Dr. Crane has been stalking you for a while, but you are leery of him and have been avoiding him outside of professionalism at all costs. One night though as you are leaving work, he tracks you down at your car to see just what you're so afraid of.
Word Count: ~4,426
Warnings: Semi-rough car sex, non-con elements, forced oral (male receiving), dirty talk/language, slight degradation, hair pulling, slapping, stalker behavior, talk of virginity loss, birth control, Dr. Crane being kind of a creep in general
Note: Reader does not know he is actually Scarecrow! And images above are sourced from Pinterest. This story is based only on Cillian Murphy's version in the Batman films and is my interpretation of the character; I don't own him or any part of the franchise, this is just for fun.
Tonight was swathed in misty sheets of rain in the gritty darkness lightly tainted by the glow of streetlights as your car, parked a few blocks from Arkham Asylum, beeped to unlock and you slung your purse over your shoulder, sighing after a long day and wanting to get home to a hot bath and a drink or two. But a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach at a shadow from your peripheral vision made you hesitate and you squinted through the hazy shower that was tapering off to a light drizzle, dampening your hair.
A suited man, height on the shorter side, was stopped no more than twenty feet away and a jarring jolt rushed to your bones when you saw the street light glint off his narrow framed glasses and you paused, hand on the car door. He was utterly silent and you were unnerved by his stiff posture and oddly clenched fists, half thinking to jump in your four-door-sedan and peel out of his presence, but he then walked forward causally, those hands relaxing and slipping into the pockets of his black slacks.
"Good evening," he called out, stepping into view under a streetlight with a smirk and you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms defensively as he slowly approached, that sick smile never sliding off his features that were - you'd have to admit - frankly handsome... No, beautiful was a better term.
"Why are you stalking me, Dr. Crane?" you asked with edginess to your tired voice. It was late and you didn't even live in Gotham City, you just commuted here for work.
"Stalking? Oh no, I am simply observing," he replied smoothy, but it came off as more snappy and insincere.
"Right... Don't you have somewhere to go?"
"Do you?"
"Yeah, home to my apartment miles away. It's been an exhausting day and too late to be out on the town, so if you're proposing anything, I can't take it tonight."
"It's always a long, late night in Gotham."
He moved within a few feet of you and you swallowed nervously, but remembered a man like him could smell fear, so you put up a brave front.
"So when do you finally fuck off and leave me alone? It's unprofessional to follow someone without their permission, you know. Keep this up and I'll need a restraining order."
"But you always avoid me during work and now you reject my offer for simple company?"
"Company late at night at my car in the rain? And aren't you technically my boss? We aren't friends and I don't know why you're so interested in me, but I don't think you should be. I'm not looking for a man like you. Right now I'm just looking for a nice glass of red wine honestly."
"Really...?" he drew the word out to almost a parodying tone and you pursed your lips.
"Yes, really. Now I bid you goodnight, Dr. Crane." You opened the car door fully, ducking and stepping a foot in when the door caught and you looked up to see him holding it in a firm grip. He was stronger than you expected.
"Stop denying it, I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Stop hiding and face me once and for all," he insisted darkly.
You took a breath, desperately trying to calm your beating heart and yet the horrible feeling that this evening wasn't going to end on a dull note persisted.
"Don't hurt me, I'll-" you started to warn and his eyebrows shot up with a shake of his head.
"Call the police?" It sounded like mockery from his mouth and you scowled as he continued, his pale hand sprinkled with rainwater sliding up and down the car door frame.
"Hurt you, hm? Well, only if you want me to." He chuckled and you stared at his slightly floppy dewey dark hair and raised eyebrows.
"Why the hell would I want you to hurt me?"
"You tell me. I do know you secretly want something else, don't you? Something more... erotic?"
You scoffed angrily, hating how he was worming his way past your exterior and into attraction, but you couldn't let it happen.
"Take a raincheck. I'm going home." You tried to shut the door but he was still holding it in a death grip, knuckles white and veins bursting out the back of his hand.
"Stop fucking around, I don't have time for this sh-" you cut off your sentence with a yelp as Dr. Crane shoved you inside the backseat of your own car and you landed flat on your back as he came inside to hover over your vulnerable body, wetting his pink lips.
"Please! Don't do this!" you cried out of panic and he leaned back, breathing heavily.
"Don't go anywhere," he warned and you struggled to sit up, throwing your purse up front and he slammed the side door shut, getting more comfortable in the backseat, which you were not pleased about.
"This is MY car, get out," you commanded, but he was as cool as a cucumber as he cleaned his glasses with a cloth from his suit jacket.
"I just want to talk one on one, which we never do outside of the usual board meetings and it can be so boring, always about psychiatry and stats and police reports and this patient and these crazies and-"
"Oh sure you just want to talk. I'm not some kind of naive idiot to the desires of the opposite sex," you rolled your eyes and he scoffed, settling back on the seat with a cross of his legs and looking up to the car ceiling.
"It's so cold and wet tonight, shame we aren't someplace more cozy," he muttered and you awkwardly crawled into the driver's seat with your keys and fumbled to insert them in, starting the ignition.
"What are you doing there?" he asked mildly and even that sounded passive aggressive. God, he sure was insufferable.
"Turning the heat on because you're whining about it. I just wish you'd get out of here, completely violating my privacy."
"This is a public street you're parked on, isn't it? And is this how you treat all passengers?"
"I never have any passengers," you remarked bitterly and Crane leaned forward, putting his hands on the back of the seat and peering around to you as you glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
"Indeed. I know you're mostly a loner with almost no friends and orphaned from family or maybe you've lied and they aren't dead and are only estranged... Either way, no one cares and no one understands how you spend office hours in a facility full of the most criminally insane but you do it for the money and to quench your curiosity because deep down, you know - you know you're a freak too who sees no normal in what you have deemed a, oh say... corrupt kind of world."
You swallowed at his assertions and unfortunately fairly accurate reading.
"I don't need sympathy from you of all people," you snapped, putting the heat to full blast. It was freezing tonight and the defrost was battling the condensation filling up the windshield.
"I'm only trying to understand you myself, it's my job to psychoanalyze."
"I'm not one of your patients or experiments," you told him in disgust.
"Every human being is an experiment in the eyes of their creator, which is me for you because I happen to be the one who hired you in the first place. Without me, you would not have a job and therefore I created you in that respect," he replied in absurd smugness.
"Then what am I? Frankenstein's monster?"
His eyes flashed and he adjusted his glasses reflexively.
"I wish. No, you're my first prototype I have yet to diagnose."
You shut the heat off once the internal temperature was fairly toasty and cracked a window down a fraction for circulation. A beat of silence befell until he suddenly climbed into the front, dropping into the passenger seat confidently, and you realized how lithe he was, how easily he fit into spaces not designed for someone with such an overshadowing, all-encompassing ego.
"Now what are you doing?" you asked exasperatedly. He didn't answer and you hated the way looking at him was making your heart flutter despite your anger and the alarm bells ringing in your brain. Something about him was always... very off and you never could quite place your finger on it, he was a blind spot, but it was undeniable. Which was telling considering the people you were exposed to every day.
Crane reached up and removed his glasses entirely with a swipe to set them on the dash and your breath caught with that simple action. You admitted how he was very visually pleasing without those lens obstructing his intense blue colored orbs were. You glanced down and fiddled with the keys when he suddenly snatched them up out of your lap and pocketed them into his own pants with a manic expression.
"Hey, give those back!" you yelled and began to wrestle with him, arms flailing as he held his own above his head, palms up and empty.
"You want those? You have to do something for me first."
"I-Okay, what is it?" You dropped your arms and glared at him suspiciously. He smirked once, speaking with a tremor of excitement.
"If I was civilized, which I'm admittedly not, I'd ask you out on an old fashioned dinner date and then walk you to your door, give you a nice polite kiss and send flowers to your desk on Monday. But I can't wait anymore for that saccharine romantic scenario, so we'll get straight down to business. I want to fuck your brains out, right here in the car."
You blinked, rather stunned.
"I... I-I no, I can't, I mean that's-"
And here was where your confidence utterly failed as he suddenly lunged and grabbed you to pin you down inbetween the passenger and driver seats, head flung upside down almost to the backseat floor and legs helplessly kicking towards the windshield.
"Please, don't do this!" you yelped anxiously.
"Don't tell me you're a virgin who has never had a dick in you before," he whispered, misreading your fearful hesitant expression. Actually, you'd had sex once with a lame boyfriend back in college and since then, avoided the dating and hookup scene, content just to masturbate when you could.
"Oh, fuck, I should've guessed. What a shocking discovery," he wrongly concluded rather sarcastically and you cringed, twisting your head away from his warm breath and ridiculously good looks.
"This makes it all the more interesting, then," he murmured with a feathery caress to your cheek and you flinched, giving him a kick and successfully wriggling out of his grasp to curl up against the door in the backseat.
"I've been waiting a long time for our encounter," he mused, utterly unfazed at the negative reaction.
You immediately went to open the door, ready to run for your life if he became overly threatening, but he hit the button that locked all the doors. You manually unlocked your one door - thank God for that safety feature - but his deadly voice made you freeze.
"Are you quite sure you want to do that?"
"T-This is my ensured vehicle and y-you are violating every right of mine by t-taking over like this," you stated, but your voice was shaking like a leaf through the words.
"That's it, you are afraid of me..." he whispered slowly and the pure delight with pride in his voice was unmistakable. You turned to look at him directly, unable to hide and deny anything any longer.
"I think you are being very inappropriate right now," you admitted nervously.
Crane moved to join you in the backseat, but you felt stuck even though you could technically open the door and make an escape. There was no way he could really stop you, was there? He didn't have a weapon on him, did he?
"If you were really frightened, you would have bolted by now," he said as though reading your thoughts and you gulped, realizing he was right.
"Dr. Crane, I-" you were broken off by him abruptly grabbing your face and kissing you, his tongue sloppily forcing its way into your mouth and you naturally reciprocated while inhaling his sharp stinging scent of expensive cologne. He pulled back with a gasp and a mischievous spark in his eyes that made something awaken deep inside.
"You kissed me," you said in a stunned voice.
"That's precisely what I did, Y/N," he answered with another touch of smugness and you closed your eyes, knowing you were in too deep now. He was going to take this all the way and you felt helpless to stop it. Did you even want to stop him?
"I knew if I exposed myself enough to you, you'd finally stop being immune," Crane told you with a sort of self-righteousness as he ran his hands down your back and shrugged your coat off before moving to your front to remove your blouse carefully, button by button.
"I hate to see such pretty tits contained and so oppressed... Let's free them, shall we?"
He unclasped your bra and removed it, tossing it to the floor and you shivered, goosebumps peppering your bare arms and neck.
"Aww, is it too cold?" He made a pout and privately you wanted to smack those stupid lips right off his condescending face but it was if you were under a spell of a sudden, entranced by his actions and his hypnotic eyes. He trailed his fingers down from your throat to your nipples and you hardened at the stimulation, closing your eyes in regret. Dr. Crane was turning you on, dammit.
"Better than I could imagine..." he breathed, taking in your appearance for a minute while groping your breasts, squeezing, and you gritted your teeth as he teasingly tickled you under your arms, making your breath hitch and a stupid giggle slipped out.
"Sensitive, are we? I promise I won't hurt you."
You leaned back, casting a fretful look out the windows in case of onlookers, but the street was empty and the glass was streaky with rain, creating a thickly translucent rippled covering not unlike a shower curtain.
"No one knows," Crane stated flatly in response to your paranoia while untying his dress shoes and pushing them under the seats. You just nodded, taking off your own and then unzipping your pants the same time he undid his own. His tight dark grey briefs were bulging with his cock and you hesitated, absolutely unsure of what to do when he completely stripped and out popped out his erect glistening-at-the-tip penis in full view.
"Take it in your mouth," Crane ordered abruptly, pushing you down beneath him.
"Um, no I think that's disgus-" Your voice was cut off as you nearly choked; he roughly shoved his cock so fast into your parted mouth. The silky end of his tie tickled your nose as he inched closer, and clearly this was much more enjoyable for him than it was for you as he groaned in building ecstasy and you kept your mouth closed around it, afraid that if you moved, you'd gag or get hurt. He forced your head up a little and bobbed, but you could feel a dribble of precum seeping down your throat and now you reflexed, yanking yourself from him with a loud noise and banging the car door open to cough and spit violently out onto the pavement below.
"Get back in, do you want someone to see us?!" Crane hissed and you felt a sharp tug on your hair as he pulled you back. You shrieked and self defensively twisted to slap him straight in the face. He gasped from the unexpected blow, falling back and banging his head on the opposite window as you spat, wiping your lips of his mess.
"Can't take it like a common whore, can you? Feel like being a goddamn difficult bitch, don't you? Think you're better than me, do you?" he seethed, rubbing his cranium and you huffed.
"I thought you'd just put your dick in me, not that bullshit."
"It's called oral and many women in fact enjoy it."
"How do you know, you've done that before?"
He had a strange expression when he replied briskly.
"I've read up on the concept, you know."
"You've studied about women and sex. Amazing. Is that what you do on your lunch break or...?" you almost laughed, but the way he was staring at you wasn't in a joking manner. He had the look of an inmate one straw away from a full psychotic behavior break down. Basing from your training, you decided to distract his frustrating anger and talk nonchalantly to calm him down.
"Okay, I'm kidding around, I get it, and I don't mean to hate or spite you. Remember when I was initially employed at Arkham, fresh out of college, and I met you for the first time? I personally thought you were extremely cocky and looked waaay too young to be a top psychiatrist in such a grand high security institution. Now I can say with certainty that while you are, um, creative in your methods with the inmates and I do admit I find you very terribly attractive, I have to say Dr. Crane... I still think you're an arrogant son of a bitch."
"Call me Jonathan," he replied, unimpressed by the insult and wrestling off his tie.
"Well, Dr. Jonathan, you sure are a pretty piece of work," you replied with ample attitude and he was fed up, dumping his jacket and shirt from his body and twisting the tie in his fingers. He held it up and a muscle spasmed in face, jaw clenching and enunciating his cheekbones.
"You want me to choke you with this?"
"I'd really prefer you didn't and it would be very nice if you weren't such a dick forcing your sex on me," you answered matter-of-factly.
"Lie down or I'll fucking fire you from your position, understand?" he snapped loudly and was extremely serious as you glared, but then reluctantly laid back obediently on the seats just to avoid complications and he came down swiftly, carefully aligning to position his penis at your entrance. He cautiously touched the moist head to your vaginal lips when you held up a hand onto his chest, stopping him.
"Now hang on doctor, don't you want to warm up first?"
"I'm obviously already warmed up, Miss Y/LN."
"But I don't have lubricant on me, so you're going to have to get me naturally very wet for penetration because right now I'm dry as a bone," you warned for your own protection, but hardly expected him to listen.
"Don't tell me how to do it," he replied, snippy.
"I'm serious, you can't just stick it in there; it will be just as hard for you as it'll be for me and I don't want to end up seeing a gynecologist."
"So you aren't a virgin after all?"
"I had my hymen broken with a loser in the past," you told him and he raised one brown eyebrow, creasing his forehead with a few fine lines.
"Then how should I start, Miss doctor?"
You wordlessly took a hold of his index finger and guided it to your opening and he pressed lightly, feeling pooling liquid.
"You little liar, you're already discharging," he whispered disapprovingly and he massaged your clit in slow jerky rhythm. You nodded in approval, losing your control as he slipped a finger in and moved around enough to make you clench a bit, trapping his digit.
"How does that feel?" he asked almost clinically and you closed your eyes, urging him to put in another finger. He did and you almost orgasmed when he extracted much too soon, sighing.
"This isn't much fun for me," he whined and you made a face, shifting position to spread your legs wider, putting your arms up and accidentally smearing the fogged window with your fingertips. You looked utterly submissive, practically begging to be fucked, to get it over with (so you convinced yourself).
But for all his aggression to trap you in your own car for penetrative sex, Jonathan was now becoming oddly timid as he hesitantly closed the gap between you, realigning his bare body to yours.
"Wait, have you done this before?" you asked suspiciously and he was sheepish in answering.
"I told you, you are my first prototype."
"Shit, you're the virgin here?!" You laughed as though this made this experience any less stressful or partially contrived.
"Do you masturbate?" you then asked and he rolled his eyes.
"What kind of man of do you think I am?"
"Is that yes or no?"
"Doesn't matter, Y/N. Now, let me ask you a more important question: are you on birth control of any type?"
"I..." you hesitated to answer because if you told him 'no' would he go any further? You had pills at home as a precaution, but neglected to ever take them, assuming you'd be remaining single. But you had no intention of getting into a full relationship and certainly not being impregnated by this man.
"I left them at home," you finally answered truthfully.
"I have something for that then," he assured and you stared as he leaned back and rummaged in the pockets of his clothes on the floor. He produced a tiny pill container and dropped a pill into your open palm. You didn't ask why he was carrying around birth control pills, but assumed he had indeed been planning this for a while.
"Don't want any unnecessary side effects of something that I'll have to end up terminating anyway," he muttered bitterly as you popped it in and climbed into the driver's seat to swig some water from your plastic bottle in the cupholder, feeling grateful that at least he didn't administer that Fear Toxin he was always messing around with in the asylum.
"Now can we get started?" Jonathan asked impatiently and you took a breath, easing the front seat down so you were lying parallel to him. Jonathan clamored on top of your naked flesh and straddled you, his cock rubbing up against your thighs, then vaginal area and you squirmed, clutching onto his back. He pushed in gradually, but densely, and you whimpered at the stinging pain and then the growing pleasure bubbling around his cock within your walls and you clenched hard, much harder than you had with his fingers.
"Oh... Fuck, Jonathan..." you groaned and he bounced up and down lightly, thrusting with slaps of skin and you felt your bottom sticking with sweat to the leather seat as he kept at it for several minutes, gripping your hips and nearly plowing you apart. It hurt, no getting around it, and he wasn't privy to what you were feeling as he seemed entirely in his own zone, racing for his pleasure until you moaned loud enough to cause him glance down, realizing you were getting close to free falling off the edge.
"C'mon, you're so close with that pretty little pussy of yours, almost..." Jonathan breathed in your ear and as he hit the spot, finally the climaxing orgasm came with a bang and it was so intense, probably fueled by adrenaline and stress more than actual love, that you emitted a high pitched shrieking whine which trailed into a low moan of relief while it tapered off and he grunted, somehow thrusting even further. Yes, you had minimal experience, but had never ever been penetrated this far before and you dreaded how much longer he could rail you, but thankfully his own orgasm came with a grunting groan as he spilled into you and you held on, digging nails into his shoulder blades and nearly biting his neck. He panted heavily in your ear and his tickle of breath made your stomach flip.
He laid still on top of you for awhile, cock twitching and warming your insides. The windows were fogged up completely and the cold was now non-existent with the heat you and him were creating out of friction alone.
"You enjoy yourself?" you whispered hoarsely to Jonathan as his breathing slowed sluggishly and he looked like he was falling asleep, so you shoved him off your aching body and he blinked, rubbing his forehead.
"Yeah, that was satisfactory. Maybe I should bump up your paycheck."
"I'm not a prostitute, but thank you."
He smiled lazily, eyes rather unfocused, and you pulled your seat up with the lever, reaching for his glasses on the dash and handing them back to him. He, in turn, retrieved the car keys from his pants and tossed them back to you with a clanging jingle.
Casting a look around your car, there were streaky handprints on the fogged glass, thin swipes of fingers and imprinted palms decorating the back windows and you reached over to one and drew a heart outline in a patch of blank space. Jonathan's own finger speared through it, making a arrow.
"Very romantic," you commented sarcastically and moved to join him in the backseat as he started to draw a creepy face reminiscent of a familiar spooky icon (a clown? Maybe a scarecrow?) when he stopped and checked his watch.
"I need to go," Jonathan coldly stated out of the blue and began to hastily gather up his clothing, awkwardly dressing before he stepped outside and zipped up his pants, and inhaled the late October city air, somewhat out of breath. The rain had stopped and the skies were clearing, the full pearly white moon slicing through the curtain of storm clouds, and you drew your blouse around yourself with a shiver before sliding into underwear, realizing you'd never look at Dr. Crane the same since this intimately raw experience.
"So I'll be seeing you around tomorrow...?" you wondered aloud and although you meant for that to be purely work related, he clearly took it the other direction.
"Oh, I'll be seeing you." He smirked knowingly and then slammed the car door closed in your face, leaving you sore and to reel from whatever the hell this twisted specimen of a man just put you through. Did you like it?
Maybe.
Thanks for reading 🖤 First time writing for Jonathan Crane, so I hope this was halfway decent!
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🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.
My Heart Will Go On
Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)
TW: Blood, torture, manipulation
Pairing: GhostxReader
Part 2
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.
You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.
Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.
“Ghost, do you copy?”
“Ghost?”
“Price?”
“Gaz?”
“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.
Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.
“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.
“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.
“‘M not! I don't-"
“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.
“But I’m-”
“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”
“I wasn’t ask-”
“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.
“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"
You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.
All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.
“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)
“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.
Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.
"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.
"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."
"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.
He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.
"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.
"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.
Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.
But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.
“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-
“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”
“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”
“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”
"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.
"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."
"I…you…I have to do affirmations."
"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.
"Again."
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
"Again!"
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ghost?"
"Simon?"
"Please."
"Why are you not coming for me?"
just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,
anyways I hope you liked it!!!!
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tender-rosiey · 9 months
Text
mourn and want — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: angst version of gojo coming back so don’t say I didn’t warn y’a; also him saying my wife makes me giggle like HEHEEHE
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satoru’s vision is blurry. he can’t see anyone except kenjaku and sukuna, though his thoughts immediately drift to you.
he can feel your cursed energy somewhere, but it’s so faint. it worries him so he quickly teleports to shoko and his students. his eyes strain as they frantically search for you, “where is y/n?”
most of them stay silent and he immediately jumps to the worst conclusion, but shoko doesn’t let him dwell on it for too long.
she lets out a sigh and it’s followed by a mutter, “follow me.”
she starts walking towards an abandoned building, probably a hospital, and satoru wordlessly walks after her. their footsteps echo throughout the deserted hallways, along with the sounds of water droplets hitting the ground every few seconds.
they finally arrive at a room and its door is noticeably cleaner than the rest. satoru speaks up, for the first time since they started walking, “is she here?”
shoko nods, and her face is solemn, “yeah, but…” she looks away from the moment, “she won’t make it. she will probably die in an hour or something.”
“can’t you do something? anything?”
“satoru, I tried, but whoever attacked her did irreversible damage,” she takes a deep breath, “the healing won’t even work so—I suggest you talk to her and get your moments. she has been asking for you ever she came out of that attack.”
with nothing else to add, shoko left, but not without patting satoru’s shoulder lightly.
he hums quietly then his hand reaches for the doorknob. he takes a deep breath and braces himself for what he will see. satoru is no stranger to death. in fact, he met it personally.
for some reason, though, he feels like yours will be the hardest to face and endure.
the door clicks and he pushes it lightly. his eyes fall on your resting figure, if resting could be used as a word with how in pain you look.
you’re breathing heavily and your hand is clutching your side. he closes the door behind him, a small grin on his face, “hey, pretty? missed me?”
your eyes peak open and you glance towards the door. a small smile appears on your face at the sight of your husband, “satoru…”
he chuckles and gets settled right beside you, “the one and only…how’re you feeling?”
a wheeze escapes your lips as you try to sit up, but satoru quickly—and gently—pulls you into his embrace.
now, you’re both on the ground with you cradled in his arms. you look up, “I feel like shit.”
“figured,” he smiles while caressing your cheek, “you look the part.”
after your small laugh, the both of you fall into silence. your hand is holding onto satoru’s. you take a moment to breathe then you mumble, “I don’t have much time left.”
his arms around you tighten just a bit, “don’t say that.”
“but it’s true.”
he bites on his lips to hold back his tears, “no, no, it’s not—you can’t do this to me,” a shaky breath escapes his lips, “we still have a future together, a daughter to raise.”
you weakly reach put for his face and make him look at you. even with his teary eyes, he manages to compose himself quickly. you sigh in content, “at least, she will have you, her strong papa.”
“why can’t she have her mom as well? why are you giving up so easily?”
“I tried a lot, but it wasn’t and will never be enough—everyone tried!”
the tears you’ve tried to suppress are falling freely, “but it hurts so much, ‘toru! I can’t go on living with this pain!”
satoru is stunned to his core before he swiftly recovers and pulls you closer, doing his best to comfort you, “shh, I am sorry,” he kisses your temple, “I didn’t mean it,” your cheeks, “I am sorry.”
your arms weakly wrap around his shoulder as you sob into his chest, “I don’t want to die! I want to be with you! I wa—want to wake up to you by my side!”you’re cut off by your sob, “I want to raise our daughter together! I want to hear her sweet giggles every day—satoru, I don’t want to go yet!”
“I know,” he buries his face in your hair, “I don’t want you to go either.”
his hand is rubbing your back while you cry and wail. he presses feather-like kisses to your head, before he speaks, “I—…I want to hear you scold me more. I want to see your messy hair every morning. I want to see you team up on me with our daughter. I want to feel your love and give you mine every—every single day.”
you pull away slightly and you lock eyes. he isn’t crying, but he can’t deny the lump in his throat nor the pit in his stomach. you peck his lips gently and rest your forehead on his, “promise me that you will take care of her.”
his thumbs wipe at your tears before he nods, “yeah,” then whispers, “I promise.”
his face is still so close to your own as your body relaxes slightly in his hold. with a small sigh, you murmur against his lips, “I love you.”
“I love you too—I love you so much,” he croaked.
“you better,” you smile before closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.
your body goes limp, and satoru immediately hugs you closer, tighter. your face is buried in his chest while he repeatedly and frantically kisses the top of your head, tears of his own dripping to the ground.
his body envelopes your own like he’s fearful of the fact that something will take you away, yet again.
he doesn’t hear the door open at first.
his blood-shot eyes eventually travel to the person who entered, shoko. her voice is shaky as she speaks her name before she sighs, “I need to take her—“
“no.”
his eyes focus on your face once again, “I didn’t get to mourn all who passed—and I will be damned if I don’t mourn for my own wife.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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popquizhot-shot · 11 months
Text
Movie Posters- Miguel O’Hara x teen!spider!reader
The awaited Father’s Day fic :D love all of you, and I hope you like this<3333
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“Lyla?”
“Yeah?”
“What the hell is this?”
“It’s a cake, dumbass.”
“Yeah I know, dipshit. Why is it on my desk?”
“How should I know?” The AI shrugs, “maybe check the icing? Dumbass.”
The perpetually tired old spider rolls his eyes and opens the box to reveal a red and blue cake with his logo iced onto it. There’s a chocolate piece with writing on it.
“Get an empanada at exactly 11:26 am today for your next hint.” Miguel reads out, “I mean- sure I guess?”
From somewhere above, another spider in a purple suit smiles and disappears.
——
At exactly 11:26 am, Miguel is at taking the empanada from the spider behind the counter who also hands him a small box.Nodding in thanks, he looks at the post it on the plate.
“Good job, open the box after eating the food.”
He doesn’t waste time in scarfing the food down before opening the box.
A battery. And another note.
“Good job, at exactly 1:30 pm, go to Jessica’s quarters.”
“What?” He says out loud, attracting the attention of some of the other spiders, “nothing to see here.” He snarls and they all go back to eating in silence.
He internally groans, because he knows you’re behind this.
At one thirty, he glares as Jess smirks and hands him a paper bag filled with confetti.
Amongst the confetti, he finds another box.
Another battery, another note.
‘Almost done, now at five, go to the main hall of spider society to find the last part of your gift.’
“I’m going to kill that kid.” He swears as he carefully folds the paper and holds it as if it made of glass
“You’d kill yourself before letting anything harm her.” Jessica replies.
He doesn’t answer, only clenching his jaw in response to his colleague’s words.
Because nothing has ever been truer.
———
At five sharp, he opens the doors to the main hall to find a single spotlight shining onto a table with the last box on it.
He rips the ribbon wrapped around it and opens it to find a remote with a single bright red button and another note.
‘Two batteries and one remote. You know what to do, wiseguy.
Also, happy Father’s Day ;)’
He has never assembled something faster, as he quickly puts the batteries in the remote. And hesitantly presses the button.
The spotlight switches off and the momentary darkness in the hall is then replaced by a single hologram of a butterfly flying around him.
It rests on his nose and flies around him, as if wanting him to follow it. In front of him, a portal opens and the butterfly flies through it, expecting him to follow.
On the other side is what is supposed to be a media room. Complete with wooden panelling and a projector and speakers. He sees posters of what used to be his favourite movies and songs. Photos of his favourite soccer players. His hand moves to over his mouth at the photo of him and Gabriella.
“Don’t be mad.” Your voice reaches his ears and he whirls to see you look at him nervously, “i wanted to make this special.”
He clenched his jaw and scoffs, looking around the room once more, he eyes the empanadas and the movie, his favourite, ready to be watched.
He then looks you in the eye, and for the first time in entire time you’ve known him, you feel nervous.
He stalks towards you and after a few seconds of painful silence, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you.
“Oh honey, why would I be mad?” He whisper into your hair.
You let out a sigh of relief, “i know how much she meant to you, she needed to be here today. I..know I’m not your real daughter or anything, but you’re my dad.” You hug him tighter, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, and he gingerly picks you up.
“You’re my kid. Understand?” His voice is shaky.
You nod and he puts you down, a small smile on his face.
You giggle, “wanna watch the movie?”
His smile turns into a smirk, “come on what are we waiting for?”
Your smile disappears, “wait, shit! I forgot my glasses!”
“I thought spiders had 10/10 vision?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry that your spider is a blind bat.” You snark.
“You’re hilarious.” He munches on the popcorn you’d made for him.
“Yeah I know.” You grin and open a portal to get your glasses.
A few minutes nts later, you emerge, a frown on your face. You go to stand in front of him and he looks up at you, “What?”
“They were on my head the whole time.”
“Oh were they?” He hums, “must’ve missed em. I have horrible eyesight.”
“Asshole.” You roll your eyes and adjust your glasses as you plop down next to him and start the movie.
He throws popcorn into your open mouth, “don’t talk to your father that way.”
“Shut up.”
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