#not sure what that might look like but it would be handy

[hellenhighwater]

Is your face ok? Flying cats and phones hurt

yeah I'm fine, the noise was mostly because she managed to get me in the mouth and also I was wearing a tank top, so lots of claw-to-skin contact.

No bloodshed. This time.

Also, you know how when you meet a person who has the same name as you and you immediately have to mentally determine which of you would win in a fight to the death, either physically or psychologically? For the first time in my life I met a potentially Superior Hell. This was a couple weeks ago now, and Potentially Superior Hell has sent tribute in the form of several entire cowhides, which I assume is so that we can be friends forever instead of eternal nemeses. Either would be lovely, honestly.

I think I'm gonna need to take some of that leather and work on making some kind of shoulder armor so Malice doesn't maul my left arm entirely off. Her balance is not always to be trusted.

#potentially superior hell honestly rocks and i think shes awesome #step one. learn to make armor #or at least specifically leather armor #i would just get something from an armorer but the way mal tends to sit means it would need to extend further down the back and chest #than is typically done for just a single shoulder piece #and it doesn't really neeeeeed to cover the bicep at all #but obviously there needs to be a sense of balance to it #it needs to be pretty snug because she's heavy and she needs to feel secure #not sure what that might look like but it would be handy #been thinking about this for a while #nim never needed it because she had dignity and poise #which malice categorically does not

[maiko-san]

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 5 )

<<< Part 4 , Part 6 >>>

Relationship : Fluff

Warning : ⚠️ Mention of blood / gore, human experiments ⚠️

Plot : You were sleeping until you woke up and realised you weren't in the infirmary anymore

Catnap has made his decision, he decides to pay you a visit. Even if it is just a mere minute.

This is the only time he disobeyed The Prototype, surely his god would understand, right?

He had pleaded The Prototype to spare you out of all humans in the facility.

The Prototype accepted it but he won't assure about your survival during the massacre. Whatever happens to you will be Catnap's responsibility.

How about he convince you to join him? To be in the team and follow The Prototype?

It makes Catnap feel happy at the thought of the person he loves joining the team.

Just you and him, might even Dogday if he ever joined the group.

Wait...What if you refuse? Surely you wouldn't, right? If you refuse then he will force you. Yeah, definitely because he wants you safe.

Even it means dragging you down to the deepest and darkest of the Playtime Co, just to keep you safe.

As soon Catnap reaches the infirmary, he peeks his head in the room only to find it empty.

"...Star?"

You weren't in the room, where could you have gone to? Then, his nose picks up a familiar scent.

No...it cannot be.

His pupils dilate as he quickly crawls through the vents and makes his way towards the laboratory.

.

.

.

.

.

You hear voices around you which causes you to wake up.

All you see was the white ceiling instead of the colourful ones, you tried to move your body but you couldn't.

"You're finally awake"

You turn your head to the source and see one of the higher ups, a man in lab coat. You've seen him before but where...?

.....

If you remember correctly, you've seen him in the organisation chart and also on the papers you always work on.

"Dr. Sawyer...?"

"Oh, so you know me... interesting"

In his hand, he held a clipboard. He jotted something on the paper before looking down on you.

You are confused.

What's happening?

Where are you? What is this place? Why are you....here?

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions on your mind. You are in the Bigger Body Initiative programming room"

"Bigger...Body Initiative?"

"We've been monitoring you for quite a long time, now. It's quite hard to find someone that is compatible with our program. We have finally found a suitable host for our newest mascot, you are...perfect"

"Host...m-mascot? W-what are you saying?!"

You have to escape. If you stay you will never know what they will do to you!

Then, the metal doors before you open and came in a doll....

An angel doll with a pair of wings and a golden halo on top of her head, the doll is very beautiful like an angel as it is.

"All the children needed now is an angel to protect them, guide them and help the Playtime Co flourish. Your personality will become handy and guide the children to a better future for the company"

Every word he's saying, you don't like it one bit....

Dr. Sawyer leaves the room, saying you should get accustomed to the doll first.

You begin tugging on the belt on your wrist but they are too tight. You stare up at the ceiling above you.

You cannot escape....

You don't have anything on you to help you escape.

You slowly take in your surroundings, there is a table next to you full of operating equipment, which makes you pale.

Are they going to dissect you and sell your organs?!

Hell no!

"Help! Please!"

You cried out for help, though your voice fell into deaf ears. Tears start pouring out from your eyes, is this how you will die?

Plap, plap, plap.

Your ears pick up a pitter patter on the floor, you look down only to see a plush version of Catnap staring up at you with its beady black eyes.

Did...the plush just....moved?

Then, it tilts its head causing you to flinch in surprise.

The plush begins to climb on the table and hops on to you, you begin to panic and close your eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

Clack!

The straps on your wrists were loose and you open your eyes to see Catnap plush gnawing on the leather strap on your ankle.

Freeing you.

With your hands free, you quickly unstrap the belt on your other leg and hop off the bed. You walk over to the door but it won't open.

"F*ck!"

You begin to look around and notice a vent but it's high up, you can't reach it even if you climb on the table.

What are you going to do?!

You feel a soft tap on your ankle and you look down to see Plushnap, nudging your leg before pointing up at the vent.

You told it you can't reach it.

Then, Plushnap does a throwing motion before holding out its tail and stretches it with its paws.

It doesn't take you long to know what it was thinking.

Now, you hold Plushnap with your strong hand as the toy wraps its tail tightly around your wrist.

"Are you ready, buddy?"

*nods*

You give your best swing and throw Plushnap towards the vent as it tail stretches like a rope, the toy grabs hold on to the vent door as you begin to tug on its tail.

The vent door snaps open as you watch Plushnap crawl into the ventilation system, before you know it. You feel yourself being hoisted up.

How can a plush pull a full grown adult?!

Once you enter the vent, you feel arms dragging you and your face slams into rough fur.

That smells like lavender.

"Catnap?"

"Star....are you alright?"

You pull yourself off from the tight embrace and meet face to face with Catnap.

Before you could question him, he bites the back of your gown, holding you like you are a kitten and begins to crawl fast through the vents. ( you were so close to slip out of the hospital gown since it's just a piece of thin cloth )

"Catnap! W-what's happening and what is this place?!"

"....Not now, must.....get you... somewhere safe...stay quiet or...they'll hear us .."

Even though Catnap crawls through the vents fast, he doesn't make too much noise thanks to his soft paws and being lightweight unlike the other smiling critters. He was built to be silent so he doesn't wake up the sleeping orphans while he does his patrols in the night.

You look through the gap of the vent doors to see people in lab coats.

Who are these people? You know they have a science department but....these people are.....different.

Then, your eyes widen when you pass a vent door. You see a dissected body of a child....

Your hand slaps your mouth, you were horrified at the sight. Next to the dissected body is a bloody toy that has organs in it.

Are they...putting human organs into toys?

What kind of madness is this?

Are they...no, are they using the orphans for sick experiments?!

All the sudden, the alarm went off.

"Did they know?!"

"....No"

"Containment has been breached. Experiment 1006 has breached containment. All personnel please evacuate immediately and go towards the nearest evacuation centre, this is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill"

Catnap then tosses you over his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Hold...me...tight...."

The feline slams his paw on the vent door and jumps down on the ground.

You see people running around and being attacked by....the toys.

Your eyes widen in horror at the sight of the toys biting and clawing onto the scientists, tearing and pulling on their skin. You could see flesh and muscles, even bones!

There's so much....blood.

Suddenly, something covers your face and it was a mask. You try to pry it off but something doesn't let you do so.

"Must...wear mask..."

Catnap said into your ears, you see a thick cloud of red smoke coming out from his mouth and it begins to fill the entire hallway.

Some of the scientists begin to drop down after they inhale the red smoke. You watch as the toys begin to bite down on their motionless body like a pack of hungry hyenas.

You were breathing heavily at the horrific sight, the small toys had come to life and kills everyone.

You can hear bloodcurdling screams in the distance, some were calling for help.

Catnap's eyes look at your form, he can see your pale face through the mask and your entire body shaking like a leaf. He has to do something, he didn't expect it happen now.

Maybe ...using the red smoke on you could help you...just a little whiff.

He can manipulate your dream, yeah. He makes sure that everything was a nightmare.

Yes, he will do it.

"Catnap?"

You feel the mask loosen and the smell of the red smoke begins to enter your airway. Then, you start to feel drowsy and the next thing you know.

Everything turns black.

A/n : I'm sorry for not updating for a long time, I had a writer's block for the past days. I apologise for that 😭. I know this is a short chapter and I will do better next time, I hope this stupid a** writer's block goes away soon.

For those who send me asks, I will answer them soon.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #smiling critters catnap #poppy playtime catnap #catnap #catnap x reader #dogday x reader #smiling critters x reader #poppy playtime x reader #various x reader #reader insert

[breadcat-xx]

“Go on then, Reg. Give him a hug.”

Sirius looks mortified when he sees his younger brother, his eyes red and puffy, much like his cheeks. James has tried relentlessly to get him to stop crying on their way here, but by the time they arrived home, he’d figured out that it was an impossible mission.

Regulus isn’t making much sense. He constantly moves back and forth between crying fits and moments of what James could only describe as pure bliss. The sedatives that were administered to him are still playing their part, but the doctor had assured him it would only last for a couple of hours.

So there he stands, holding on to James’ jumper, looking rather ridiculous with the bandage around his head that is meant to keep the cold packs in place. It’s supposed to reduce the swelling, the doctor had explained. James had made sure to take a selfie with him before they got here. Might come in handy sometime.

After a moment of stalling, Regulus finally lets go of James’ sleeve and crosses the room to get to his brother, who’s lounging on the sofa. Remus, seated next to him, tries to stifle a chuckle when Sirius awkwardly accepts the hug Regulus is giving him.

“Now tell him how much you love him.”

James takes off his jacket, smirking as he puts it away.

“I don’t.” Regulus mutters begrudgingly, wiping at his nose.

“That’s not what you said in the car, love.”

Regulus directs him a weak glare, turning away from Sirius. James lifts an eyebrow, walking up to the pair that’s still entangled in a half-hearted hug. One second Regulus’ is positively scowling at him, and the next he’s a sobbing mess again, turning back to Sirius and hiding his face in his shoulder.

“I love you.” He murmurs into his jumper. “You’re all I have.”

Now, James would like to take offence at that, but he doesn’t. The brothers have come a long way, and while the connection they have is not perfect, it’s real. It’s pure.

Sirius’ eyes soften in an instant, and he too scowls at James. But then he properly wraps his arms around Regulus, holding him as he cries.

“I love you too, of course…” He says quietly.

Remus looks up from his book and gives him a meaningful look. James shrugs. Is he ready for the wrath of the Black brothers once this is over? Probably not. But for now, he’s quite pleased with himself.

Pt.2

https://www.tumblr.com/breadcat-xx/743579352590123008/ara?source=share

#I based this on a wisdom teeth removal video lol #jegulus microfic #wolfstar microfic #jegulus #wolfstar #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #black brothers #regulus black #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin

[obbystars]

Boothill HCs

NOTES: dividers by @cafekitsune !!

( Made before 2.2 / Boothill might be OOC / GN!Reader / I was in a “writing” mood tbh / first half is fluff, second half is small angst / i just love angst )

Prefers to be the little spoon because he likes the feeling of being held. Plus he enjoys the warmth it gives him. Bonus points if you give him kisses while you’re cuddling.

Speaking of, please shower him in kisses, he loves it. It flusters him a lot and may cause him to blue screen for a moment, but aeons… he loves it. First time you did it, he did actually overheat.

A biter, but I think we all know that. He goes in, seemingly going to give you a kiss, but now you have a faint bite mark on your cheek. You’re pointing your finger at him? Chomp. Your clothes show a bit of skin? Chomp. Does he “kiss it better”? Sure, if you ask nicely enough. He’s pretty smug about it.

It took some time, but you eventually (sort of) mastered understanding Boothill through his censorship. Sometimes you even complete sentences for him, or rephrase it in the way he would’ve said it. Sometimes he tells you to tell someone they’re “this” and “that”.

Would be more than happy to help you learn how to handle a gun. You never know when it will actually come in handy in the future, so it’s better to learn now. It’s not like he can stay around for long so he can’t always be there to protect you anyway. Managing to hit your mark will have him so happy.

Has probably given you a bullet through a kiss more times than one might expect. Was it on purpose? Accident? Who knows! ( it definitely wasn’t an accident )

God forbid anyone looks at you the wrong way or let alone touch you. He’s pretty intimidating ( but so god damn hot.. ) so there aren’t a lot of fights as a result. If there is, you may want to grab a chair and a drink. Maybe two once he’s done.

A gift giver in my eyes. It’s not always something expensive, but he seems like the “I saw this and thought you might like it” kind of guy.

Since I can’t go on anywhere without slapping angst, here we go.

Part of him feels like he’s not providing you enough. As much as his body gives him an advantage in his work, it’s kind of a disadvantage when it comes to you. He’s cold and made of metal. Whenever you ask to be the little spoon this time, he always wonders if he’s crushing you. He knows how to be gentle, but he can’t help but think he’s holding you too tightly.

More often than not, he doesn’t feel like he’s in “his own body.” His body moves as he commands it to, he can still feel emotions, still think for himself, but there’s always the thought that this isn’t living. That he’s not really “living”. He doesn’t bleed red, he doesn’t have a heart that beats. He knows it doesn’t bother you, but it still bothers him. If he was given the chance to live again as a “normal” human, he’d take that in a heartbeat.

Make no mistake, he loves you more than anything. He loves how you make him feel, he loves being with you and the affection you give him. He just thinks you could have someone better. Someone who can be with you all the time and give you what he can’t. He never voices this to you, though. At least not now. Maybe one day..

Most nights, he stays up. And most nights, there are a lot of unwanted thoughts. You ever so slightly tightening your hold on him while you sleep takes him away from those thoughts for a while, only to then be reminded he has to leave you again in the morning. He hates having to do that, but there’s not much any of you can do.

I want to write so much more but UGH im outta ideas…

#boothill #boothill x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail boothill #hsr boothill

[withleeknow]

rue de rivoli.

pairing: hyunjin x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, semi edited lol, a little sappy and very self indulgent and inspired by a very specific instance in that one hyunjin vlog in japan 🤷‍♀️ word count: 0.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

hyunjin might be the worst - and you mean it, the worst - travel partner.

it’s all because of that ridiculously expensive camera of his and the little hobby that he’s taken up on.

“hey,” he calls out softly, trailing a few steps behind you as he raises the camera up to his face again. “hold it right there.”

you huff out a breath in mild annoyance, blowing some hair away from your face as the air escapes from your lips.

“seriously? you’ve taken a gazillion pictures already. this is the third time you’ve made me stop in the past thirty minutes.”

“but the lighting is just perfect.”

“we’re only here for a few days! i can’t see all the places i wanna see if you keep making me stop every two seconds!”

it was cute at first, how he kept asking you to stop in the middle of the street to snap a photo of you. it made you blush every time he did, because he would take another brief moment to admire the final product on his camera’s display screen and tell you that even though the photo turned out great, it could never truly capture how beautiful you are through his eyes. then he’d press a kiss to your cheek or a swift peck to your lips before taking your hand and tugging you along, en route to the tourist attractions that you’ve yet to come across.

to be fair, it’s still cute, and despite your feeble irritation, you still let hyunjin take his photos every time he asks. mostly because he would start sporting a gigantic pout on his face, coupled with the way his eyes widen like a puppy begging for a treat.

“please? you look so pretty right now. pleaseee?”

you acquiesce - of course you do - because who can say no to a cute whiny hyunjin?

you roll your eyes half-heartedly, and a bright grin immediately spreads on his lips because he knows that he’s getting what he wants, the smile so brilliant that it brings out his whisker dimples and turns his eyes into adorable crescent moons.

he patters over to you on light footsteps once the shot has been snapped, proudly showing you his handy work even though you secretly think it looks the same as any other photo of you that he’s taken - sometimes it’s your side profile with your hair covering half of your face because you’re too awkward to look directly at the camera, sometimes it’s you in random poses because you’re never sure what to do with your hands while getting your picture taken.

“did you even take any photos of the scenery?”

hyunjin shrugs, pretty indifferent to your question. “yeah, a few.”

“a few? give me that, let me see... you’ve taken two hundred and sixty four photos so far and only a few are of freaking paris?!”

another shrug, then cue one of the corniest things he’s ever said to you in your entire life. “you’re prettier than paris.”

sure, it’s a massively cliché thing to say, and a teeny bit cringeworthy to hear if this were a sappy romance movie. but coming from him, you know the sentiment is entirely genuine because hyunjin is nothing if not one of the sincerest people you know.

it makes you short-circuit as you stare up at him. the sun behind him softens by a fraction as it starts to make its descent, and the slowly fading sunlight looks as though it’s found a home as his personal halo. to have someone as beautiful as him tell you that you’re prettier than the city of love itself is quite honestly a little surreal, no matter how long you’ve been together.

“that was the cheesiest shit ever,” you comment, pretending to gag but knowing perfectly well that he can see the rosy flush on your cheeks. you mutter something else - for good measure - along the lines of never going on a trip with him again.

hyunjin laughs that endearing signature laugh of his, then he twists the cap back on the camera lens and once again lets the device dangle from the strap around his neck. he pulls you toward him with ease and kisses you deeply with a smile on his lips, one that’s warmer than the parisian sun could ever hope to be.

no, hyunjin isn’t a great travel partner. yes, mostly because he takes up all of your time trying to take pictures of you instead of letting you freely wander to the spots that you’d spent a lot of time bookmarking on google maps beforehand. he might be the worst person you’ve gone on a trip with because when you’re travelling, you like to be productive with your time and be able to do everything you set out to do in the limited number of days you have.

but even then, maybe it’s not that terrible having to miss watching the sunset in front of the eiffel tower because more exquisite than all of the most renowned artworks displayed in the louvre and more enchanting than any view you can spot from montmarte is your hyunjin that you adore, who’s kissing you in the middle of a street which name you can’t even pronounce.

any irritation you had from before slowly melts away. you don’t even care (that much) that you’re in the city of love.

any city is love when you’re with him.

(even when he messes up your travel plans sometimes.)

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki (italicized = can’t tag)

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 04.03.2024]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin

[thatanimeramenchick]

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One

No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear

3,516 words

Part Two - Part Three

–-

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.

So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.

So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.

“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”

“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”

“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”

He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.

“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.

“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.

And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.

You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.

“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”

He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.

“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”

It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.

“You think you can handle it?” he asked.

You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.

“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”

Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.

“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.

---

It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.

Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.

“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”

Vox had stormed over to your desk.

“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.

“T-that’s not it! I just-”

Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.

“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”

“Of course, sir,” you said.

You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.

“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.

You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.

“What was that?” he said

“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.

A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.

“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”

Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.

“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”

“Um… yes?” you said.

“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”

“F/N,” you said.

“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”

You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.

---

Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.

Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.

He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.

It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.

Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.

You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.

“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.

“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.

“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”

What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.

“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.

You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.

“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”

“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”

That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.

“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”

He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.

“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”

“If you say so,” you said.

As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.

“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.

You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.

---

It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.

And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.

You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.

So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.

“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.

“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.

“I’m sorry… your what?” he said

“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”

He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.

“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”

“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.

As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

It was awkwardly silent for a minute.

“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”

“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”

“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.

You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.

“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.

“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”

He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?

“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”

Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.

“I think I should go back to work,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.

This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.

Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.

“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.

You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”

“Or?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.

“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.

He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.

“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.

“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.

“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”

You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?

“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”

He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.

It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.

He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.

“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured

He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.

“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.

You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.

Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.

“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”

You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.

#yandere x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #yandere vox #vox x reader

[steddiealltheway]

It's a pretty dead day for Family Video with no customers for hours besides Eddie who stays around, "For your entertainment," he explains to Steve when he asks why he's still there. It's not that Steve minds, in fact, he really enjoys his company... like... really enjoys it.

Robin teases him about his crush, but Steve refuses to acknowledge it because he knows Robin might accidentally blab about it to Eddie. So he settles for casually brushing off the lighthearted teasing about his hopeless crush.

Sure, Eddie seems to flirt with him and spends a great deal of his time around him, but Steve isn't one hundred percent certain that he's into him. In fact, he seems to act the same way around Nancy who he is currently talking about.

A groan from Robin cuts Eddie off and has Steve confusedly looking at her. "Tell me how to win over Nancy!"

It comes to Steve as a bit of a shock, not the crush but the cry for help to not only him but Eddie, too.

Eddie weirdly doesn't seem as shocked though, and he even seems... excited.

"Buy her roses?" Steve suggests, but Eddie immediately scoffs.

"Nancy Wheeler, does not want roses. She wants someone who will listen to her. Try asking her about what she's writing for the paper and really stay invested," Eddie says.

Robin looks at him for a moment with narrowed eyes but nods. "That's... actually good advice. Thank you."

Steve pauses and considers it. It really is good advice. Great advice even. It's almost as if that's what Eddie wants...

"Surprised?" Eddie asks and Steve glances up at him from across the counter. "You look like you're deep in thought wondering how I thought of something like that," Eddie says as if he's about to let him in on some secret.

But before Steve can think about what it could be he replies, "No, I was just... wondering if you wanted to tell me about your most recent campaign. Dustin told me a little about what you have so far, so...fill me in on the rest?"

Steve hears Robin scoff behind him in disbelief as Eddie's jaw slightly drops and he stares at him. "You're serious?"

Steve nods in response and smiles.

"Okay, Harrington, but strap in and prepare to get your mind blown..." Eddie says and launches into the details. Steve is surprised when he genuinely gets taken by the story and starts asking him questions. But then he gets a bit distracted by the way Eddie keeps leaning into him with wide eyes gleaming with joy and an even wider smile.

Steve sincerely hopes that Robin keeps asking for advice because it's going to come in handy as he tries to win over Eddie.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Eddie, could you possibly give me more of your wooing wisdom?" Robin asks a few days later.

Steve's almost surprised since the first piece of advice had gone so well it scored Robin a full day of hanging out and even a drop-in visit at Family Video by Nancy herself. But Eddie nonetheless is already leaning over the counter and saying, "She would love it if you complimented her. Just little things like her outfits, her hair, her writing especially though. She seems like a sucker for words of affirmation."

His response is so quick that Steve wonders how much Eddie craves those words of affirmation. "Speaking of hair, have I ever told you how great yours looks?" Steve asks Eddie.

Robin cackles as Eddie's eyes go a bit wide. "Uh, no, but thank you, Stevie."

Throughout the rest of the shift, Steve subtly throws Eddie little compliments such as how he looks in his infamous vest, his taste in movies, and even goes as far as complimenting how great he is with the kids. It makes the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheek a little pink, and that's exactly the reaction Steve was hoping for.

He wonders what else Eddie has up his sleeve.

-:-:-:-:-:-

After a few more days filled with compliments, lots of intentional listening, and quite a few visits from Nancy, Eddie finally hops over the counter and corners Robin. She continues to watch Nancy in the back of the store as she reads over what must be very interesting descriptions of movies because she's been in the store for quite a long time.

Steve keeps teasing Robin about it, but she refuses to listen. Maybe Eddie will make her.

"Final piece of advice," Eddie says to Robin quietly enough that Steve has to scoot closer to them to eavesdrop. "Just ask her out. She's over there waiting for you to make a move. Just... trust me, okay? If it goes wrong you can punch me in the face, chop off my hair, and even go after my guitar."

Steve's eyebrows raise. Eddie must be very confident in his advice.

Robin seems to actually listen as she carefully and very slowly makes her way toward Nancy.

Just ask her out... So, Steve should just... ask Eddie out. Simple.

"Hey, Edd-"

"I've been wa-"

The two glance at each other and smile. "Go ahead," Steve says and looks back toward Robin.

"I've been waiting to tell you this. I've gotten all those tips directly from Nancy. I made Robin her walking kryptonite," Eddie says excitedly.

Nancy's walking kryptonite. Not Eddie's. Shit.

"What were you saying?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Nothing... I just forgot."

Eddie nods and nudges Steve's shoulder as they watch Robin ramble out something to Nancy who stares at her with furrowed brows. There's a pause as Nancy says something that sounds like, "So a date?"

Robin nervously nods back, and there's a moment that makes Steve hold his breath.

"I'd love to," Nancy says back and Eddie nearly jumps for joy as Steve lets out a deep breath.

Eddie turns back to him and asks, "Are you sure there wasn't something you were going to say?"

Steve nods, and Eddie seems disappointed. He hesitates then turns around as if he's going to scale the counter again.

Steve glances around the basically empty store then reaches out and grabs his wrist. "Wait."

Eddie turns around and looks at him.

"This is so stupid, but I thought all the advice you were giving to Robin... Well, I thought it was what you wanted. So, I've been trying to use it to win you over, but turns out... it wasn't what you wanted. And I'm not sure why I'm admitting this to you, but I just wanted to let you know why I guess I've been so weird the past few days," Steve says and runs a hand through his hair.

Eddie gives him an incredulous look. "You wanted to win me over?"

Steve can feel himself begin to flush as he nods.

A wide smile spread over Eddie's face. "Well lucky for you, flattery works on me, but just asking me out works even better."

Steve takes a moment to process what Eddie means.

"Ask him out, dingus!" Robin says and Steve jumps a bit forgetting she was there.

"Do you want to go out sometime?" Steve asks quickly as he takes Robin's advice.

"Yes, my advice is that we go out tonight after your shift."

Steve laughs, "My advice is that instead of giving advice you just tell me what you want."

"Well, I advise you-"

"Oh my gosh, if either of you says advice one more time I'm letting Nancy use you for target practice," Robin says and Nancy laughs.

Eddie leans closer to Steve and stage whispers, "I think we should advise her to watch her temper."

"Eddie!" Robin says as she scales the counter.

Eddie easily gets away and runs out the front door. "I advise you to pick me up at seven!"

"I'll take your advice!" Steve yells back.

It's worth the lecture Steve gets from Robin for the rest of their shift, but she isn't too mad since Nancy stays (following Steve's advice).

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #background ronance #stranger things #steddie ficlet #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #fruity four

[eldritch-spouse]

Sometimes greedy gambits do work out.

Your typical greedy fiend may wax about their insatiable desire for the material, how satisfaction is the death of their nature and never shall they cease stretching their fingers towards the next shining trophy-

But they know limits.

They have that little bit of normalcy that tells them when it's time to drop something, even if it leaves a taste like curdled milk in their mouths.

Not Xiko.

Xiko grabbed onto something and he did not let go.

Not even when death came knocking at his door.

This celebrity of the Greed Ring was known for being the biggest, most successful human/monster trafficker of Hell itself. Xiko, a mere mid-ranker, yet clever and crafty enough to dethrone nearly everyone in his field of vile work.

Wanted humans and monsters worth owning? In mint condition? With some really rare traits? Leave it to him and his boys, you won't be disappointed.

With great skill and talent comes great danger, but Xiko didn't cower when he started to gain many an enemy, when he could no longer count them, when he spent most of his time hunting them down rather than hunting the poor souls he's supposed to sell. With each visit, he'd return home with a few trophies to remember his victory.

Things were going well.

His empire of fifth kept growing, enough so that it garnered the attention of the very Lord Rinx, a client Xiko both reveres and dreads, due to his extravagant tastes. Why, he ever earned himself a juicy deal with this strange, extremely popular establishment on the surface that constantly bulk-orders humans. The Clergy's Eye or something of the sort, he knows the Icons had been there before.

How impressive is that? Enough for prideful folk to eye him wantonly.

Xiko had the opportunity to grow in rank, to sit at Rinx's table and negotiate starting a little jewelry store in the heart of Greed to keep up appearances and branch out. What luxuries.

Unfortunately, all highs lead to lows.

His health starts deteriorating inexplicably. Xiko begins being unable to move properly without chronic bursts of pain debilitating him from doing much of anything other than lie and wait for the wave of torment to pass. He has no idea where it's coming from. The pain is so great he gets blinded and passes out in some episodes.

The best doctors he can find tell Xiko he developed something terminal. Not quite a cancer, similar, something only demonoids can exhibit.

But what did the name of it matter? His own monumental riches wouldn't save him from certain doom.

One might think Xiko would do some soul searching with the time he had left, as laughable as that sounds for a being as rotten as him.

Not even close.

You don't get this far without being stubborn.

Things can't end as they are. Xiko can't die, he has so much to do and so much to oversee, it's simply not an option. He can't.

In the midst of despair and hopeless solution-seeking, Xiko finds a possible answer to his impossible conundrum inscripted in his most favored trophy, a timeless chalice.

Between its jewels and lovely finishes, the instructions for a ritual sat written in one of the oldest tongues in Hell. Having a historian for a friend sure comes in handy, doesn't it?

Said acquaintance is there to witness it when Xiko grows mad enough to try it, at the hands of demons who perpetuate these ancient practices.

A mummification-like ritual.

Except, to avoid death, Xiko must remove the two organs which the soul is most connected to, the brain and heart.

He knew what he was getting into when he laid on that altar.

He knew that he would suffer physical trauma beyond anything he could ever have experienced in life. He knew he would come out of it looking like a completely different being. That he would no longer be a demon.

And he was ready.

He was ready when they started chanting.

He was ready when his jaw was stretched to absurd proportions.

He was ready when his chest was torn open.

When he danced in that barrier between life and death, looking down at himself while his figure withered and contorted.

Those memories are... Scratchy, to say the least.

Xiko recalls screaming at the top of his exposed lungs and feeling his skin rip from several sides all at once, as if rejecting him. He remembers when his skull was crushed and how he could hear it for a moment. He knows he twisted and shriveled like a bug on that marble.

And that he woke up.

Wrapped like a present.

Dead yet amongst the living.

To continue his work. To remain forever at the top.

So what if he was emaciated now? If he'd never get rid of the massive scar where his figure was torn open, if his eyes now reside inside his bizarre gaping maw and his arms are elongated? Xiko had made it.

And while death was unavoidable, it was not the end.

In fact, it was the beginning of something a lot more amusing for Xiko.

He found his new appearance frightened his competition. Rumors of him being an undead diety spread. No longer featuring a core name or even something as simple as a sigil, Xiko was freed of even more weaknesses.

He made no effort to hide what he had become the next time he was present at Greed's Conqueror's Spoils festival. His mangled, infernal undead form on the spotlight.

Some of them were smart enough to understand what he had turned into, knew to stop pursuing him. For when you take something from a mummy, it cannot rest until it retrieves its possession.

Others came to find that out eventually.

Perhaps the person Xiko feels most sorry for is, not one of his enemies, but you.

You poor thing, still trying to escape him, still trying to lockpick your cages and manipulate his men, trying to make it out at all costs.

You never think twice when you set foot outside his territory.

Unaware that he'll always instinctively know where to find his "stolen" possession.

#Xiko oc #demon oc #monster oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster x reader #yandere demon #monster boyfriend #monsterfucker #minors dni #pinnie's art

[flowermiist]

A warm heart - II

Click here to check out past chapters if you haven’t ♡

Pairing: John Price x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: Some time ago, you started a cooking channel on YouTube as a way to relax, have a proper hobby and teach others your favorite recipes as you improved your own culinary skills too. Fame wasn't something you wanted, you were more than happy with your 50k subscribers... Yet you never thought you'd stumble upon one of them.

Word count: 3k

A/N: Hii!! I’m really excited for this chapter (as with every other) I’d like to apologize if this took me more time than I intended, work has been quite heavy lately but all the kind comments make me smile soo much. Enjoy!! And please don’t forget to like, reblog and let me know your thoughts about this chapter if you’d like!

After leaving your car at Harrison’s garage, you take an uber home. The mechanic told you it would take about three days to properly fix what was wrong with the engine, you didn’t give it much thought.

You sit in the back seat of the Uber and place your grocery bags on your lap, you sigh and open your purse, seeing the small note with John’s number – It was written on an old receipt the man managed to find in one of the pockets of his jeans, using a black pen you always keep in the glove compartment of your car.

You sink back into your thoughts while looking out the window. You don’t know whether to call his number or not, you sigh and keep thinking, as intense as it might sound, you know that if you call his number and he doesn’t pick up, you’ll be too embarrassed to ever attempt to call him again – You promise yourself that if he doesn’t pick up, you won’t call again.

It wasn’t like you wanted anything other than to thank him again properly for helping you back there. John was nice, yes, but he was still a stranger and you didn’t really know much about him.

You turn your head to the other window and realize you’ve reached your destiny, you pay the grumpy driver and make your way into place.

The charms hanging from the keychain jingle as you open the front door. You sigh and close the door behind you, locking it before you start walking towards the kitchen with the grocery bags in hand as well as your personal bag that has the receipt with the phone number of certain man – you make sure to place the groceries where they belong and you kneel down to the drawers of the counter where you store the bags you used, might come handy anytime.

The tripod is still on the counter where you left it. You check the battery of your camera before grabbing the ingredients for the homemade sourdough bread you’ve been preparing for your next video.

So after washing and drying your hands, you re-adjust the camera to the tripod and begin recording the process, making sure the lightning looks good enough.

When you try to start the small oven to preheat it and have it ready for the bread, it does not respond which makes you confused since last time you used it, which was over a week ago, it had been working – not anymore, apparently.

What is going on? Why is everything you own acting up? First the car now the fucking oven, great.

Not wanting to get pissed any further, you choose to use the oven of your stove which of course, was bigger and would take more time to heat up.

This was going to be a long night for sure.

John finishes putting the clean dishes away, the TV in the background with some History Channel show he was not paying attention to, but it was just the background noise he wanted.

Not particularly interested in what the telly had to offer anymore, he turns it off and does the same with the lights of the living room as well.

John Price has always had a pretty strict rule for himself and for his house, to turn off every light he wasn’t using – except for the old lamp he had in his living room next to the couch but besides from that one lamp, every other room that was not being used did not need any artificial lighting.

As he’s about to walk towards the stairs, the man remembers the laundry he had put in the dryer earlier, he had completely forgotten about it – “Fucking ’ell…” the words escape his lips as he clicks his tongue in annoyance and moves towards the uility room of his house, where the clothes should be.

After opening the small lid of the dryer, John places the clean clothes in the basket, grabs the old iron and the ironing board. He has never liked to leave things to the last minute, never liked to do things in a hurry and do them badly. John knows it’s better to iron the clean clothes now rather than leave them all wrinkly and forgotten.

Placing the ironing board in the living room, he folds out the winkly t-shirt and connects the iron, waiting for it to start producing enough heat and get this shit over with as soon as possible.

Some steam appears and he grabs the handle, making smooth movements with the iron, moving it from from the neck to the short sleeve of the green cotton t-shirt.

Looking back at it, the material is still the same, wrinkly and with obvious creases. John gathers his patience and moves the iron again, using a rough hand to stretch the fabric more and trying to press one of the buttons to make more heat yet nothing happens.

His mind drifts towards today’s events as all he can hear is the sound of the iron against the clothes – Your smile was still in the back of his mind and the thought of the big possibility of you not calling his number crosses his mind. Was he too forward? Would you call?

Without noticing, he moves the iron over his thumb and part of the back of his hand, groaning out in pain loudly as the sharp pain immediately hits him. John quickly grabs his left wrist. “God fuckin’ damnit, old fucking thing!” – Endless insults rumble through his chest, escaping through gritted teeth as the man is scrunching up his face with discomfort looking at the back of his hand where the bright red mark on his thumb throbs.

The smell of burning fabric and steam catches his attention again, looking down at the iron burning his shirt he quickly grabs it and places it vertically, taking a moment to manage the anger rising inside him, his face almost red.

John lifts up the green t-shirt, his gaze darkens as he sees the dark hole over the sleeve of the fabric. “Awesome.” He states with anger and sarcasm as he throws the t-shirt on the floor and unplugs the iron, contemplating smashing it against the wall for a single second but knowing it won’t solve anything.

Breathing through his nose while calming down, he walks to the kitchen sink, gritting his teeth in discomfort as he washes the burning part of his left hand – A first degree burn, nothing he can’t handle.

The basket with clothes ready to be ironed remains forgotten as John grabs one of the aid kits he keeps inside one of his kitchen counters. The man clearly has experience with dealing with these superficial wounds as he loosely wraps some of the bandage around it, covering the red area.

“What a muppet.” He grits through his teeth, directed to nobody but himself.

When you finally finish the video, you look at the clock, it is around 21:30 and you are tired, however; you aren’t too tired to go to bed just yet – and besides that, there’s still something you want to do before going to bed or rather someone you want to talk to.

The bread has such a good smell, freshly baked as you cut a big piece and put some cheese, tomato slices and arugula over it before biting and almost melting at the delicious flavor filling your palate.

You walk towards your bedroom and open the drawer of the nightstand right next to your bed to grab the pack of cigarettes on the second drawer. You were never a smoker but you liked the taste of nicotine on your mouth from time to time, especially after such a long day like this one.

You open all the windows to make sure the smell does not stay inside the apartment, you may like the taste and how the nicotine relaxes your mind but you still find the smell of it sticking to your clothes absolutely annoying.

Walking back to the living room, you grab our purse as the cigarette remains between your lips, the string of smoke and the smell over you now, your eyes open more when you look at the old receipt with the man’s number and smile, grabbing the cigarette from your lips and exhaling the smoke out of you.

At this point, all you are wearing is a pair of gray lacy underwear and a white tank top.

You look at the wrinkled paper and gather some courage before you dial the number and press on the green phone icon to call.

John sits on his back porch, a cigar between his index and middle finger.

His attention is immediately caught when he hears the ringing sound of his phone back in the living room, where he left it before moving to wash the dishes. Who would be calling him at this time of the night if it was not work related?

He grunts as his knees crack when he stands up and walks back inside, seeing the “unknown” contact and quietly staring at the number. Could it be?... No, he does not want to get his hopes up.

“Hello?” A hoarse, masculine voice speaks through the line with a tone full of curiosity and some clear seriousness, you immediately smile, holding the cigarette as sink down on the swing chair of your balcony.

“Hope it isn’t too late.” You say, bringing your hand closer to your mouth and position and the nail of your right thumb between your teeth when you hear a low chuckle. He recognized your voice, of course he would.

“How are you?” The man immediately asks after you stop talking – If you were able to see him, you’d see the way he scratches the beard on his cheek and goes back to his porch, a small smile between his thin lips.

“I’m good…” There’s a small silence before you speak again, keeping the phone close to your ear with your left hand. “Wanted to thank you again for everything, you know…”

John hums in acknowledgement – “No need to thank me, it was quite an honor for me to help my cooking teacher…” Is he flirting? No, that has to be a trick your mind wants to play with you for fun.

“How’s the car, eh? Hope it didn’t stop in the middle of the road.” He slightly tilts his head to the side while speaking, changing the topic rather fast.

“Well… I left it with the mechanic, won’t have it for a few days – took an uber home.”

You could have asked me to drive you home – He wants to say as he takes a puff of the thick cigar between his fingers. Of course, he would not rush into anything. He was still a stranger to you after all and the thought of possibly sounding creepy cringes him.

“Sounds like you had quite the battle then, with all those grocery bags?” His tone makes you chuckle and that gives him some relief yet he doesn’t want to think much of this call for now.

“I did, actually. Came home and filmed my next video.” You say, forgetting about the cigarette between your fingers and you move your hand away from your face.

“Mhm… Next recipe then?”

“Yes.”

“May I know ’bout it?”

“Nope.”

John chuckles quietly and it makes you smile.

“It’s a surprise...” The calmness of your voice is clear and it resonates in his ears.

“I don’t mind waiting then.” His voice is just as calm as yours.

There’s a comfortable silence through the line when the question pops out and you decide to ask it, to learn more about him.

“You said you had experience with changing tires.”

“Indeed.” John responds, giving you silence of his own for you to speak.

“Well, you got me wondering if you were actually my mechanic in disguise.” It lights up the mood a little bit when you hear a breathy smile. John grins before replying.

“I could be, you never know…”

“Where did you get the experience?”

He thinks of his answer...

“Different places ’round the world.” It’s vague and definitely not enough for you to figure him out completely and you are eager to do so.

A hum sounds through your throat, you take a drag of your cigarette and exhale. Not keeping the smoke inside for too long.

“You travel a lot?”

“Quite a lot, yes.” His voice is still calm. John is pondering whether he should say more or leave it at that, he is not the most open man when it comes to his line of work.

“Business men travel a lot.” The suggestion arises in the air when your words are spoken.

“They do, don’t they?” The sarcasm he uses answers absolutely nothing, he’s messing with you and you can clearly tell he finds it funny.

“Maybe you’re a famous lawyer traveling from one boring conference to another…” Another one of your suggestions.

John can’t help but grin a little at your response – “No, nothing like that.”

“Doctor?”

“No, not that either.”

You sigh, you won’t deny this is entertaining but you were getting nowhere so you give it one final try – “Well... They say military men travel a lot... Are you one of them?”

“Correct.” A calm voice replies and you try not to cheer loudly at finally guessing a part of this man’s life.

“So you’re in the military?” You want to make sure you’re right, even if he was clear and brief.

“I am.”

The line goes quiet before you break the silence.

“Explains a lot then.” You try to sound unimpressed as you shrug and it does get to him because now he’s curious.

“Does it?” He moves the cigar to his lips again, taking a puff and looking up at the dark sky.

The phone call hides the teasing smile painted over your lips. “Yeah, you look it.”

Before John can question your words any further, you change the topic.

“I’m pretty sure there are evil gnomes messing with my stuff.”

Your words don’t fail to impress him as he exhales smoke through his nostrils.

“You believe in that stuff?” The thick british accent and his raspy masculine voice could not be more noticeable as he tries not to sound rude while making fun of your possible beliefs.

A chuckle escapes your lips and you pretend to act offended by his selection of words “And what if I do?” A brief pause – “First my car then my oven…”

It catches his attention, John tilts his head like some curious dog and keeps the phone pressed against his ear.

“Did the secret recipe go wrong?”

“Well, almost.” You sigh and elaborate. “So I got this… smaller oven, easier to use compared to the bigger one that comes with the stove but as I tried to preheat it, it stopped responding.” “I’ll have to get a new one tomorrow.”

With a sigh, you get up from the swing and get closer to have a view of the street under your building, you take another drag of your cigarette as you place your elbows on the frame of the balcony, feeling the cold breeze embrace your exposed thighs and caress your almost naked arms, moving your hair with it.

“Could help you look for a new one.” The same husky voice sounds through the speaker of your phone. John’s eyes dart around his back yard, a man like him is never fully off guard. No matter where.

“You’ve already helped me enough… I- don’t really want to bother you.” There’s some embarrassment in the tone you use, looking up at the dark night sky while exhaling a slow – thin string of smoke out of your lips.

The man gazes at his bandaged thumb then at his fingers holding the cigar.

“Wouldn’t mind a shopping expedition, could use one m’self.”

This catches your attention, curiosity enters your mind. “Yeah?”

John won’t admit the fact that he burnt his hand with the old iron because he was distracted, he would rather lie that sound like a fool.

“Got this old iron at home, burnt my bloody hand while trying to use it, burnt my goddamn t-shirt too.” Some embarrassment makes the british man scrunch up his face, he doesn’t want to sound like a potty mouth.

He clears his throat before continuing – “Would be good to kill two birds in a stone, ya get your oven and I get my iron… Some advice could be useful too – ’bout the iron, ’course...”

A small smile escapes your lips as you reply to the man on the line - “Sounds like a good plan then...”

“Sounds like it.”

“Could drive you to the store with me if that’s alright.”

Right, you haven’t thought about how you’d get there.

“Will need one.” Of course you will, dummy, You don’t have your car with you – Says that little voice within your head, the one that tries to prevent you from saying too much.

His deep voice is heard again through the speaker of your phone. “Right, no problem.”

John replies, his tone monotone and casual about it which you’re thankful for.

“What time can I pick you up at? Got all day.”

“I get out of work at five, a friend will drop me off at home… Is six too late for you?”

“Don’t worry ’bout it, six ’s fine.” John says calmly and you smile.

“I’ll text you the address then.” You sit back on the hanging chair as the wind moves your hair and you squish the head of the cigarette against the ashtray placed on the small glass table of your balcony.

“Six it is then.” That voice rumbles through his chest and without even knowing you just put your cigarette away, he sticks the head of the cigar against the wood of his porch, leaving a small mark, putting his own cigar away almost at the same time as you.

“Good night, John.”

“Sleep tight, Y/N.”

Taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @thesevi0lentdelights @zekes-beard @blckbrrybasket @shuttlelauncher81 @thychuvaluswife @airzonaaa @mamanmae @cadotoast @ateliefloresdaprimavera @heyitsmarimari @markitvz @live-love-be-unique @syoddeye @hyriefortuno (Let me know im the comments if you’d like to be added! Dm me for removals! ♡)

#captain price #john price #call of duty #john price x reader #cod #cod mw2 #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod x reader #writing

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 16th

leon kennedy x vibrator

a smallish, rubbery, baby pink vibrator. with a suction feature, and 10+ speed and pulse settings. it fits in your purse, it fits inside of you, it fits in the palm of your boyfriends hand. you loved it, you really did — but really, it was leon’s pride and joy.

from spending so much time with you, leon had started to pick up on when you needed certain things. you often got restless and agitated by small things when you were hungry, you’d bite at the side of your finger when there was something on your mind that you weren’t telling him, you’d smile with a certain twinkle in your eye when you wanted something from him — but his favourite and most challenging moments, was being able to tell when you needed to just let go.

sometimes, you’d have a particularly hard day at work. you’d be more teary and quiet than usual upon arriving home, and when you’re ready he’d let you rant and cry it out into his chest. it was like clockwork, and once he’d supported you emotionally, he knew you needed something to make your brain totally black out and forget the day you had, and that’s where the vibrator came in handy.

to the surprise of many, leon wasn’t actually that big on punishments unless you really deserved them — so whilst it might be assumed overstimulating you with a toy would be used for the purpose of reforming a bad attitude or breaking a rule, leon preferred to use it as a reward. a reward for being so brave at work as he’d tell you — enough so, that now he would allow you to forget everything you know until all the negative feelings had vanished.

so that’s how he’d have you, and your only grip on reality would be focusing on sound. your back was to his chest, head resting against his shoulder, his own legs caging your spread thighs with a thick forearm across your stomach holding you to him as he presses the toy against you. you can hear his deep and low breathing in your ear, you can hear the obscene wet clicking noises made by your cunt each time he shifts the vibrator through your folds, you can hear the relentless and incessant buzzing from the toy itself, a lone thought swimming around the back of your brain questioning the durability of its battery life, and loudly — you can hear the uncontrollable noises coming from yourself.

your moans were broken, whiny and bordering on pathetic. your brain was mush by this point, so coherent sentences were something of a distant memory as he pressed the buzzing toy against your abused clit. you poor thing, begging for something and you weren’t even sure what for anymore. it’s a good thing leon was there to look after you. “does that feel good baby?” he has the audacity to coo, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone— god he’s sick.

you try to respond, but it proves impossible, only managing something akin to ‘mhm’ which is good enough for him. “i’d say i’m pretty good at this, isn’t that right? knowing what my girl needs. knowing when that pretty pussy needs to cum.” he soothes and you claw at his thick, strong wrist weakly, feeling yourself near yet another orgasm as your clit pulses painfully.

“another one? alright sweetheart, let’s hear it.” he purs, continuing the repetitive movements around your clit with the toy until you’re squealing, tensing up and completely blacking out as you feel yourself gushing.

“take what you need, i’m right here.” he calms you as you ride it out. leon was right, as always. he did infact always know what you needed.

added extras: there’s times where you get needy, and just wanna play with your exhausted boyfriend after he returns from work— you being all hyper and giddy as he lounges back on the couch. he lets you play with his cock, dragging your vibrator over his wet, pink mushroom tip, staring up at him with glassy eyes eager to please as he tips his head back, casually spreading his thighs with a groan. “fuck, you’re good at that baby. didn’t know it would feel so good, damn.” he strains out, and you can’t help but place a kiss to his tip as you run the vibrator down his shaft. “j’st wanna look after you, like you do for me.” you hum, and he runs a hand over your head appreciatively.

“my girls too sweet.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon re smut #resident evil smut #leon smut #leon kennedy drabble #kinktober 2023

[raffe156]

HEYYY!!!

I WILL LITERALLY BEG FOR THIS🙏

A Brat!Reader, Gentle Dom!Price, Hard dom! Ghost or König

I BEEN ALL WEEK THINKING ABT IT

Im sorry this took sooooo long!!

It’s a quickie but I hope you like it ☺️

Paring: Price x fReader x Ghost

Warnings :NSFW MDNI,female Brat reader, Hard Dom Ghost, Soft Dom Price I’ve not got them troupes down to a T yet but you get the idea💖

✨⛺️ Camp out Drabble coming soon!⛺️✨

“Told you not to wind him up today didn’t I?” Price cupped your face in his hand. He was gentle, Ghost on the other hand was brutal, he wasn’t in the mood for your attitude hadn’t been all day that’s why you were now bent over the small table in the cramped gear room, loose bullets rolling off as Ghost thrust deep into you over and over. He looped his huge hand under the shoulder strap of your tact vest to bounce you back into his thrust. The sound of his flesh slapping against yours echoed through the room.

Ghost hunched over you, his mass pushing you down onto the table still thrusting relentlessly into you. You were positive you heard the table creak under the pressure.

“Not got much to say now have you eh? All day you’ve been baiting me…your snarky little comments and cocky attitude got you where you are right now…next time you mouth off I might just fuck you right infront of the entire base…like the little shit that you are” He was right next to your ear his breath hot on your neck and face.

You couldn’t help the smirk, you knew you had annoyed him today, pushed your luck too far. Price clocked you smirking.

“An you were doing so well…” he chuckled, this caught Ghost’s attention.

“What you fucking smirking at?” He growled as he snapped you back upright by your vest, with the height difference and the new angle he knew his cock would be bulging inside you, pushing your wall. He was already fully buried inside you, but he liked to see you squirm.

“FUCK!” You gasped trying to perch your knee up on the table to lift yourself up.

“Not smirking now…are you?” Ghost was taunting you but this new angle had caused your to constrict around him and with each heavy thrust he was getting closer. You could feel him in the pit of your stomach.

“Such a…fucking little slut for your CO’s…aren’t yah? He was gritting his teeth as he slammed home into you. Your tact vest still firmly in his grasp. He was almost holding you up by it. He pushed you back down onto the table, his hips slamming into you frantically you couldn’t keep up, you broke , your whines drowned out by his guttural groans, you felt him inside you now slow, warm, lazy. All the frustration leaving his body his muscles relaxing his jaw unclenched.

Price had made his way around the table to you, he had to pat Ghost on the shoulder to get him up off you. As he did so you felt him slide out of you slowly.

“Good lad…” Price smiled as Ghost backed away from you not before he took a look at his handy work, the backs of your legs were red from the friction burn from his jeans, even little teeth marks from were his zipper had pressed into your skin. He was almost proud of himself.

“Easy does it,” Price helped you up, making sure your feet were grounded. He turned you round to face him.

“You still with us kid?” He chuckled, you could feel your eyes rolling, lids heavy, head wanting to lull back. Ghost always fucked you silly, it was like his signature move. Prick.

“Yeh, I’m still with you Sir…” you smiled at Price showing him you could stand on your own, just. Ghost scoffed. Elton johns ‘I’m still standing’ played in your head as your smirked again at your Lieutenant. Price nodded, a little smirk of his own hidden under his tash. Your attitude always amused him. Price lifted you onto the table an positioned himself between your legs.

He cupped your jaw, commanding your full attention, which you almost always gave.

“You gonna be a good girl for me this time love?” His eyes were soft but the blue of them told you not to mess him about. You nodded. He smiled.

You both watched as he pulled his dick out of his pants it was rock hard, already dripping from the top, he swiped the head of it across your centre, lightly tapping it on your opening. He was teasing you. You edged your hips forward, it almost slipped in. He pulled back.

“Ahh, you said you were going to be a good girl…don’t be so impatient or I will make you wait like I did last time…” he grinned.

You eased up, leaning back on your hands, legs spread wider.

“Sorry, Captain…” your clearly insincere apology made his nostrils flare. God you could play him. He smirked and with no warning and one stroke he was in, even after Ghost it was still a tight fit, both men were bigger than average but Price was wider, he buried inside you differently. You wanted to throw yourself backwards onto the table, open yourself up to him, but Price pulled you in tight to him, throwing you arms around his neck. His grip firmly on your backside almost lifting you off the table. His thrusts rough and slow. The coil inside your belly wound itself tighter and tighter with each thrust.

You wrapped your legs around him tight, crossing your ankles.

“Fuck…that’s it…” Price grunted.

His mouth found yours open an wet. Your tongues packed together. His paced picked up, his hips slamming into you. And for the second time you broke open, panting your Captains name as you buried your face into his neck.

“Good…girl..fuck…” you felt his hips stuttered as he came inside you.

Price held you to him a little bit longer only easing up once your heart had slowed. You were still tucked under his chin.

“You ok?…” Ghost stood to the side of Price he brushed your hair out of your face, you clocked the small towel in his other hand. It was only after sex that he was gentle, you didn’t mind. In the afterglow you both behaved.

“Come to clean up your mess Lt?” Your grinned. Ghost growled, he knew it wouldn’t last long. It never did.

Price chuckled.

“What we gonna do with you eh?”

#captain price #captain john price #john price #call of duty #price x tank #captain john price x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #captain price x reader #modern warfare #ghost x reader #ghost smut #price smut #john price smut #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #mw2 smut #captain price smut #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x you #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #price x ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #john price x reader #captain john price x you

[geekforhorror]

giving ani road head 🏃🏼‍♀️

sweet like candy

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), switch!anakin, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, orgasm, slight cum play (?), bossy anakin, fluff at end.

Never in a million years would you have thought you would be in this situation. In a speeder giving Anakin a blowjob. Sure, you guys had done plenty of other stuff together, but not this. This was completely new territory for you. The night had started off with the two of you going to a gala, but over time, you guys had gotten bored and… desperate. The invite was a nice gesture of the Order, but both of you couldn’t really care when all you guys could think about was feeling the warmth of each others body. And that’s exactly what was happening right now.

Anakin had parked his speeder in a rather secluded area, which had come in handy for this very moment. Here you were, sucking away at his cock for the past few minutes, both of you reduced to a sweaty mess.

“Fuck angel, just like that…” he pants as you hollow your cheeks around the base of his cock that was already coated with precum. You continue what you do best, but this time, you swirl your skilled tongue on his aching tip, which only provides a stronger sensation for him.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says while looking down at your fucked out state. You looked angelic in this moment. Your pupils were currently blown out in a sense that they had a doe look to them and your chin was covered in drool and his precum. You’ve never looked better to him. Anakin can’t help but wonder what you would look like while your hair was being tugged that way your mouth could sink lower onto his dick. Only one way to find out.

Anakin finally grabs a fistful of your hair before shoving your head lower, now taking all of him. Your gag reflex kicks in and he notices your throat threatening to choke on his fat cock.

“Come on baby, I know you can take more. Be a good girl and give me what I want,” he orders. You nod your head at his demand and behave. Your mouth is now the fullest it’s ever been and you fucking love it. You purse your lips around him before placing your hands on knees for support while sucking away at him.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos.

Fuck. That voice of his is going to be the death of you.

You take that as an opportunity to show him just how much of a good girl you can be for him. You hastily start to bob your head back and forth while he’s still in the back of your uvula. This makes Anakin hit his head on the plush leather of his seat, now moaning louder than ever. You made him lose his self control and you took pride in it. Both of you know someone could walk by any instant, but that’s what provided the thrill.

Anakin starts to feel the hot coil form in his abdomen and he knew what was about to happen. And so did you when you felt him twitch in your sore mouth. All you wanted was to make him feel good.

“Kriff…I’m going to cum…” he trails off. You finally suction him even rougher with all your might and before either of you know it, he comes undone in your trained mouth, shooting hot ropes of his salty seed down your throat. You graciously swallow all of it without being asked, which stings for him since he was still so sensitive. With your hand, you wipe off the excess fluids that were plastered on the crevices of your lips and chin.

“That was fucking…wow…” he says while pulling his boxers and pants up.

“I could say the same,” you say before kissing him passionately straight on the lips. His lips are molded to yours in an instant and it’s the best feeling in the world. After a few seconds, he brings his fingers to your chin before pulling your face away.

“Missed a spot… tastes so sweet,” he says, before wiping away the drop of cum you had missed.

“I love you, Anakin Skywalker.”

tag list: @zapernz @mortalheartache @midnight--raine @camiemorgan8 @myheartwillgoon2022

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin imagine #anakin star wars #hayden christensen #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom

[buckysegan]

how silly of me, to fall in love with you.

Summary: when one of the new pilots around base get's an idea in his head about a certain nurse john egan, is having none of it. john x she. Word Count: 1.1k A/N: i saw a prompt in the tags about john not being willing to give up his jacket. but i think our little possessive bucky would willingly hand it over to lay his claim....i also wrote this in 30 minutes with no edits forgive me. a little prequel look to this pairing.

there was two things about john egan that any one that had been around base for more than five minutes were sure of, the man couldn't sing, and he didn't share her or buck. it was unfair of him and irrational really, to the point that just for just a moment bucky wondered if all of this was moderately cruel of him. despite all the thoughts in his head though, he couldn't help himself.

they weren't at the pub today which meant for a change he didn't have to watch the usual british majors hit on his girl, that was where his usual source of anguish came from because the boys knew that despite the fact bucky liked to advise that the pretty nurse was too good for any of them, especially him, the way his eyes lingered on her was enough of a claim. especially after lil and dye. and john knew, he knew that he was around her just enough that he managed to keep the rest of the boys at bay. that was what was so cruel off him, he wouldn't take her. honestly he didn't think he could because a man like him couldn't taint something so pure.

he just didn't want anyone else having her either.

it seemed that the message that she was his though, hadn't reached a number of the boys that had piled in over the last week and john was pretty sure he was one wrongly placed hand away from loosing it all together.

not even the hand on his thigh and gentle mumblings of his best friend was enough to calm the frazzling of nerves that were building in him. bucky was pretty sure he hadn't smiled in at least an hour, that had to be a record and someone needed to be careful. "she's not looking at them bucky, you don't have a damn thing to worry about." brady offered from across the table where they were all propped, as if each of the men were waiting for their major to blow and ready to pull him back given they'd heard plenty of stories of just how many of them it would take should he decide to loose his temper.

the scraping of bucky's chair had everyone's eyes pulled in his direction, even hers though she had been trying to ignore the way the pilots baby blues had burned into the back of her skull all night whenever she had been asked to dance with one of the boys. she had simply been a welcoming host, every one that knew her knew she was blind to any of the attention that she had received throughout the evening. now she along with the rest of the party was left watching as john stormed in the direction of the door muttering something about being back soon.

barely ten minutes had passed when she felt the heavy fabric droop over her shoulders, the hands on her waist with such boldness confirming just who had appeared despite the fact she had been talking to lieutenant hart. "john..." she trailed, spinning in his grasp as she moved to look up at him, only to realise slowly just how quiet the room had gone. john himself, couldn't bring himself to care at the audience, he had never been shy of a performance and this might have been his best one.

"hi baby." he hummed, fingers cupping at her chin for a second as he looked down at his handy work, the light sheep skin now crowding over her favorite person. "it seemed a little chilly in here, figured that you should be taking care of yourself." he mused quietly and he made no attempts to wipe the smirk that had replaced the glare he had been wearing as he had stormed out of here.

she could feel her cheeks turn an unfortunate shade of red that no amount of powder was going to be able to help her with. this over grown, infuriating man the very cause. at some point in time, when now she couldn't remember, she had fallen immovably in love with john egan. not that he seemed to notice, or if he had, not that he seemed willing to do anything about. she had never questioned why either. she had looked at him plenty, looked at the other nurses following him around base, she knew the options he had which only furthered her confusion at the jacket now slunk around her shoulders.

"no one else is wearing a jacket bucky." she was quick to huff though she had made no move to rid herself of the damn thing, marvelled still at how small this man managed to make her feel. "mhumm, that's the point baby, i'll see you at work tomorrow?" he asked, a side glance at hart telling him that the majors message had been received loud and clear and he knew the message would have been accepted on a wider level too. not everyone had met her, the damn light of his life that wondered around base like his very own sunshine, but everyone knew the distinct jacket that bucky flew in, and now everyone had seen her in it.

backing away to his table john already knew the taunts he would be greeted with but fishing for his glass as he sunk back to his seat, he didn't even bother to hide how proud of himself he was. "jesus john." gale was the first to groan at him, the others soon joining in. "why don't you just piss on her next time, that would be less obvious." brady again, was quick to jab. bucky himself could only offer another shrug of his shoulders as he let his gaze fall to the bar, where he knew she was now watching him from where she was propped. john egan didn't deserve her, he knew that, and neither did anyone else here, he was protecting her, that's all it was.

one day, when her husband came along and she had someone else to love her how she deserved, someone that wasn't a changed man. he would let her go, he'd move on and someone else could keep her safe. just for now the jacket would have to do, it was better than his alternative plan, to grab her, kiss her in the middle of the room and tumble out some sort of confession - how silly of me, to fall in love with you.

#john egan x reader #masters of the air #callum turner #mota #mota drabble #john egan. #also PS #Im not over loosing the jacket so early #someone give callum that jacket to wesr #rn

[deakyjoe]

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 2

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her pronouns used, reader is implied British and given backstory)

Category: I still don’t know but it’s coming together

Summary: On a night out with your friends, you’re pleasantly surprised to run into your secret observer.

Warnings: flirting (Ghost and reader getting some action, they deserve it), mentions of war/death, talks of scars, alcohol consumption, Ghost being normal AND weird, the mask is off again, Ghost doing domestic things almost (socialisation in a pub), sexual references, family issues, reader’s friends are intense, British terminology/slang, swearing/cursing, dialogue heavy, minute Soap slander (I love him but couldn’t resist)

Word Count: 5.5k (longer than part 1)

A/N: After the love I got for part 1, I decided to continue so Simon is still my babygirl. Please remember that if Simon feels out of character, that’s the point of this story. It’s him when he’s not being Ghost but being forced to mix aspects of his life at home and his life at work - the work aspects being reader. Also he’s going out of his comfort zone to please the sergeant (you) because he likes you but just hasn’t really realised it yet. Not entirely sure I’m as pleased with this part as I was with the first but we’re posting anyway!

Part 1 available here.

Part 3 available here.

It took weeks before your friends finally managed to convince you to join them on a night out. You'd been putting it off for a number of reasons. One being that the thought of socialising in a crowded environment had you wanting to gouge your eyes out as you'd grown used to little to no company. Another being that you genuinely thought it'd be overwhelming and you might have a panic attack.

But after they'd assured you that they'd look after you and you could all leave if it got to be too much, you relented and organised a time and place with them. Just your local pub on a Wednesday night. You'd decided on a Wednesday as you hoped it wouldn't be too crowded and that your friends might need a pick-me-up in the middle of their work weeks. They agreed quickly with the idea.

And honestly it'd been nice for the most part. You'd arrived early, you swear active duty had made you so time efficient that you spent almost no time at all getting ready, and sat down at a table in the corner, out of sights of the most of the rest of the pub. The only thing in direct eye line was the bar itself which would come in handy when you needed to go up and order drinks.

Your friends all slowly arrived, none of them being too late, and gave you big greetings as they hadn't seen you in "forever" they claimed. You returned hugs and kisses and prepared yourself for a night of bombarding questions and retelling of war stories.

A couple of your girlfriends were bought drinks by guys at the bar and you watched on in amusement as they giggled about it together. They assured you that someone would probably buy you a drink if you asked but you waved them off saying you didn't care, which you didn't.

You listened intently as they all told you what was happening with their lives - work, significant others, kids, families, pets, parties, weddings, funerals, birthdays, anything and everything you could possibly imagine. A note of envy settled in your stomach at one point but it went away quickly when you told yourself you were being silly.

Telling them about your life was slightly more complicated. You had to skirt around some of the details of your job as it was classified and would probably horrify them if they knew what you truly did. You gushed about some of the amazing people you'd met and mentioned casually that you'd actually bumped into your lieutenant in the supermarket. They all absorbed it with wide eyes of wonder and amazement, each of them having at least one question to ask.

"So, wait, you can actually shoot a gun?"

"Does it bother you having to bunk with a bunch of blokes?"

“What’s said country like?”

"Are any of them fit?"

"Isn't it tiring?"

"How long until you go back?"

"Met anyone you fancy?"

"Hang on, you have to share a communal bathroom?"

Yes, it's alright, not really, they're okay, very, not sure, oh my god, yeah.

They never really seemed satisfied with your answers and always wanted you to elaborate. Which you did if possible.

Overall, it was nice. There was no sense of impending doom or a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole thing. You let your guard down just enough for once to attempt to have a good time. Which you did. You laughed, you chatted, you drank, it was good.

Until the bar tender came over with a drink that looked exactly like what you usually ordered.

And when he placed it in front of you, you wanted to throw up.

"Fella at the bar bought this for you."

This was it. The moment in the night that you looked forward to the least and the moment your friends had been encouraging the most. They insisted that you needed to "put yourself out there more" and “try to get laid at some point”. You were "too uptight" as they put it. Little did they know that you weren't really interested in a quick shag or even a relationship with anyone at the moment. And rejecting someone was always awful. Every time they asked why and having to explain that your job made romantic entanglements extremely hard made things awkward.

"Ooh, this is so exciting!" One of your friends squealed beside you, frantically searching the bar for the culprit. "Which one?"

“Blond one.”

Oh.

"Tall."

My.

"Scars on his face."

God.

Your eyes shot towards the bar and immediately landed on him. Of course he was already looking your way with his drink raised to you.

"Shit." You cursed, silently letting out a sigh of relief that it wasn't someone you'd have to reject but all the more anxious because it was him. A part of you was very excited to see him though.

"What is it? Do you know him?" Another friend asked you.

"He's my lieutenant. Fuck." You stood from your seat, grabbing the drink.

"The one from the shops?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in a minute, guys. I'm just gonna go say hi." You explained, slowly making your way towards Ghost.

"Take your time!"

You hadn't seen your lieutenant since he'd gone over to your place for tea. It was a weird experience. Weirder than the shops. You'd had a couple cups of tea each, shared his packet of chocolate digestive biscuits, which he'd kindly offered to you, chatted a little more and then he'd left. You didn't exchange phone numbers or even offer to see each other again. He didn't because he probably didn't want to and you didn't because you thought he probably wouldn't want to. So you'd gone your separate ways and that was that.

As you got closer to him, you wished you hadn't had so much to drink. You weren't drunk but you weren’t sober either. Kind of just bordering the edges between being buzzed and tipsy.

"Simon."

He turned so his body was facing yours, his large frame consumed the stool he was sitting on. Intimidating and alluring all at once. "Sergeant."

"You really should start calling me by my name." You sighed, stopping to stand in front of him.

"I like calling you sergeant."

"And I liked calling you lieutenant." You shot back, taking a sip of your drink despite your head screaming at you not to.

"Bet you like calling me Simon more."

Your eyes widened at his statement. He wasn't wrong but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. "Thanks for the drink, by the way."

"It's no problem. Thought I owed you for the bourbon."

You hummed in agreement but said nothing.

"Friends of yours?" He nodded towards your table where all of them were watching the two of you interact intently.

"Uh, yeah. First night out since being home so..." You shrugged.

"Having fun?"

"I was." You regretted your words immediately, knowing that you’d been insensitive.

"Ruined it, did I?" He asked but it wasn't malicious.

"No. Just... unexpected."

He nodded. "So, which one's your boyfriend?"

You were surprised at the question. Last time he'd enquired about your personal life it hadn't gone so well.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. Used to have a hamster but he died a few months back."

He blinked at you and said nothing so you rushed off to make tea, desperately trying to come up with a new topic to talk about when you got back to him.

"That's presumptuous of you, lieutenant."

"Just making conversation with you, sergeant." The return of dropping rank had you tingling inside. Might have just been the alcohol though.

You huffed. "None of them."

"Girlfriend then?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Sorry soul you're torturing with your affection couldn't make it then? What a shame." His eyes narrowed, you presumed he was joking.

"I'll ignore that insult. I'm single." Setting your drink on the surface of the bar, you leant your hip against the side but not before taking a step closer to him.

"Lucky for the world then that you're not burdening anyone with yourself."

"Jesus, Simon." You laughed out of shock, struck with his bluntness.

"Had to be said."

"Huh, you really are a charmer." You flashed him a glimpse of your teeth in a small smile, brows raising on the last word of your sentence.

"I try my best.” Pause. “Why are you single?"

"Because my affection is a burden apparently." Repeating his own words back to him seemed better than explaining your depressing void of no romance in your life because of your job. But maybe he’d understand.

"I'm serious."

"Why do you care?"

Simon didn’t strike you as the kind of person who gave a shit about the love lives of people he worked with. So why did he seem so interested in yours?

He didn't answer straight away and when he did, it seemed rehearsed. "You're my sergeant, part of my team. It's my role to care."

"To make sure I stay alive. Not to inquire about my love life." You were properly frowning at him now.

Ghost raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry I asked."

With a sigh, you relented. "The job."

"Go on…"

"Makes it difficult. The job makes it difficult to date. Especially civilians." You added the last bit on with clenched teeth. It didn’t really matter. Civilians were not on your romantic radar.

"Would you want to date a civilian?"

He saw straight through you.

"No, not really."

"Hmm."

You wanted to avoid discussing the topic any further so asked a question to change the subject. "What're you drinking?"

"Scotch that Soap recommended."

"And?"

He swished the glass around, the ice clinking against the side. "Utter shite."

"Figures." You took a long look at his drink. “You drink it on the rocks.”

“Tastes better cold. Less shit.”

“That your second glass?”

"Monitoring my alcohol intake, sergeant?” He asked and you shook your head as he looked you up and down. “You gonna take a seat or just stand there all day?"

"I'm supposed to be going back to my friends." You gestured weakly over your shoulder with your thumb, kind of forgetting they’d still been there until that moment.

His eyes flickered between the table and you. "Think we both know that isn't happening any time soon."

You hated how he saw straight through you. "Do we?"

"We do. Take a seat, sergeant." He nodded towards the stool next to him.

You stood up straighter, making a point to look directly into his eyes. "I like being eye level with you."

His foot hooked around the back of your legs and tugged you closer to him. "Think you'll find that I've still got a couple inches on you."

Your skin flushed hot, he was so close to you. You reached out and tapped his chest a couple times before realising what you were doing and removed your hand. "Think you'll find that you've had a bit too much to drink, sir."

"Simon. Thought we'd established that you can call me Simon." He leant back a little bit, relaxing in his seat. “And thought we agreed that you weren’t monitoring my alcohol intake.”

"Sorry." You squeaked.

"Sorry who?"

With a smile, you looked up at him through your lashes. You already knew what you were going to say. "Sorry... Lieutenant Riley."

He smiled. Actually smiled. It was small but it was unmistakable. "Brat."

He was beautiful when he smiled. He was always beautiful but when Simon Riley smiled… he was radiant.

You lit up at the smile but glowered at the insult. "Simon!"

"It's true." He shrugged, taking another mouthful of his drink and wincing at the taste.

"I'm stubborn. Not a brat."

"Believe me, I know you're stubborn. You've almost died like twelve times because you're stubborn. Had to save you every time." He shook his head as if it were a grievance to him.

"Could've left me behind."

"Couldn't do that. I'm your lieutenant, remember? My role is to keep you alive."

"I'm sure Price would let it slide if you had good enough reason." You thought about your Captain and wondered if he'd let you die for a good enough cause. Probably. But you held no resentment towards that fact.

Simon's head tilted to the side as he watched you think. "Don't think he'd accept brat as a reason, hm?"

You raised a finger to correct him. "Stubborn. Not a brat."

"Definitely a brat."

"Stop calling me that." You whined.

"That was the brattiest thing you've ever said. In the brattiest voice." He glared down at you. "You whined."

"You're such a dickhead, Simon." You scoffed but it was clear you were holding back a smile.

"And you're a brat. Guess we're even."

"Okay, I'm going back to my friends. To get away from this targeted attack." You paused. "Unless you want to join."

"I'll pass."

"I guessed. Do you have any friends? Maybe you could use the socialisation." You offered, wondering whether the man ever spoke to anyone when he was home or if he completely isolated himself from the rest of the world.

"Don't have friends for a reason."

That answered that for you.

"And what's that?"

"Ask too many personal questions."

He had a valid point. People did ask too many personal questions and you could understand why someone like Simon wouldn't like that.

"They wouldn't. My friends. They know we tend to be... private."

"You're a sergeant and I'm a lieutenant. Neither of us are privates." He paused to let the joke settle in. "A little army humour."

"I got it. That was good." You beamed at him, eyes crinkling in the corners at his quip.

"How much do they know of what we do?" He nodded in the direction of your friends.

You thought it over for a moment. "Very little. They know more about my teammates than anything else. Even that is limited."

He stiffened at that. "What do they know of me?"

"My quiet lieutenant with no face. Until recently." You let your eyes roam his features, taking all of him in. He was remarkable to look at really. But you'd never voice that to him.

"Hmm."

"There's more but I won't divulge with you." It was a partial joke to mess with him a little. There was some truth behind it however. You may or may not have gushed about your lieutenant to your friends. But that was nothing really. Just friendly appreciation for the man who outranked you.

"That makes me nervous."

Playing with him was too easy and too fun. "You should be."

"I'm reconsidering sitting with you and your friends now." He frowned but wasn't completely serious.

That surprised you. "You were going to?"

"Maybe." He drank more of the Scotch and trembled. "Christ, this stuff is fucking disgusting."

"Order a bourbon, something you know you actually like." You sighed. "Please do. If they're too much we can leave."

"We?" He was always questioning we.

You rolled your eyes at him. "It's always we. Teammates, y'know?"

A level of unsureness settled over his face. "I know."

"Get used to a lot of we then."

"Don't plan on seeing you again after this." The admittance stung but you weren't going to let that stop you.

"I'm sure you thought that last time as well. But here we are. Are you stalking me?" There was a hint of genuineness in the question. There was no way this second chance encounter was pure coincidence.

He shook his head, waving the bar tender over and ordering a bourbon like you'd suggested. "You're too boring for that."

"You have such a way with words. Really know how to make a lady feel special." You said dryly.

"It's a gift." He scratched at the side of his nose, absentmindedly trailing a finger over one of his scars in the process.

"They wouldn't say anything, y'know? Or stare. If you're worried about that. I've come home with my fair share of scars over the years. They understand." You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side to show off an old bullet wound that had scarred over on your collar bone.

Simon's eyes lingered on the mark on your skin but you couldn't quite read his expression. "People always stare."

"I don't."

"No, you don't." He hesitated. "Okay then."

"Wait, really?" You perked up.

"Yes, really. Quickly. Before I change my mind, sergeant." He rose from his seat, grabbing his drink and gesturing for you to go first.

You gazed up at him. It really was easy to forget just how big he was. "Quick question first?"

He didn't seem keen. "Go ahead."

"How long were you here watching me before you sent the drink over?" You really needed to know, to see how out of it you were.

"Not long." Lie.

Your brow furrowed. "How long, Simon?"

"About forty minutes."

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect it to have been that long. "Fort- Jesus. And I didn't notice you?"

He brushed you off with a small shrug. "You were having fun. Guard was down."

"Still."

"Don't dwell on it. I was just going to leave and not let you know I was here." His eyes moved away from you, the opposite side of his eye contact problem showing.

You ducked to the side to meet his gaze again. "Why didn't you?"

He shrugged again.

You offered him a small slip of affection, just the tiniest thing. "I'm glad you didn't."

He grunted in reply, which was more than you were expecting. So, you just gestured for him to follow you towards the table of your friends where you stopped short a couple feet away. You sent a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure that Simon was still, in fact, there and hadn't pulled a Ghost and disappeared. But he was still standing there watching you when you checked. Which meant it was time for introductions... which you sucked at.

"Everybody, this is Simon. My lieutenant. Simon this is... everybody." You frowned at the crowded table in front of you. "You'll pick up names. It's alright that he joins us, yeah?"

“Of course.”

"Yeah."

"Oh, my god, yes."

"Take a seat, mate."

"Where you from, Simon?"

"Manchester."

"Ugh, he's a Manc! Moving on!"

You laughed as you squeezed into the booth with Simon next to you, trying not to touch him too much. "What did I miss? What are we talking about?"

"My husband is cheating on me." One of your friends announced dramatically.

Your eyes widened at the confession. "What? Really?"

"I suspect he is." She pouted, slumping forward onto the table.

"As if. He worships the ground you walk on. As he should. What makes you think he's cheating?" You debated whether this was a good topic to be talking about with your lieutenant sat right there. But then you figured that Simon needed some friends. And what was a better way to make friends than through some old-fashioned gossip?

"Late nights as work. Going to the gym a lot. He's not getting any fitter either."

You winced. "Ah, well that is quite damning."

"Yeah. I'm trying to build up the courage to just ask him about it."

"Yeah, confront him. If he's cheating then come to me. I know how to use a gun and hide a body." You winked at her.

"Sergeant." Simon's warning tone came from beside you.

"I'm kidding, lieutenant." You looked to your friend again and mouthed. "I'm not."

Another one of your friends spoke up, leaning on the table on his elbows. "God, you guys are so formal. Even during leave."

"We don't have to be. He refuses to call me anything other than sergeant. I think it's because he secretly doesn't know my name." You nudged Simon with your elbow and then, realising what you'd done, pulled back quickly. Maybe taking a break from the drink would be a good idea for a while.

"Not true." Ghost shook his head slowly.

"So you claim. Yet you've yet to refer to me as anything other than sergeant."

"It's fun watching you squirm thinking you have to be on your best behaviour all the time." He sent you a sly smirk, his eyes squinting just the tiniest bit.

Your jaw dropped. "I'm asking Price to reassign me. This is bullying."

"Wouldn't let Price do it." He countered, leaning in dangerously close.

"Who's Price?"

The both of you pulled back at the question and answered simultaneously. "Captain."

"Ah, okay. The one with the mutton chops, right?" One friend offered.

You nodded. "Right."

Simon huffed. "That's what you told them about Price?"

"It's his best feature."

"Christ, woman." He groaned, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Ooh, woman's a new one."

A friend volunteered in your defence. "To be fair, she's not allowed to tell us much. She usually gives us one identifying feature of every person she tells us about. So we can keep up."

"I'm assuming Soap is the fact that he's Scottish."

"Scottish with Mohawk. He gets two."

"What's Gaz?"

"Baby of the team."

"Fitting. Me?"

You stayed silent.

"What is it?"

You shook your head. "Can't say. Classified."

"Sergeant." His voice was harsh, demanding.

But you weren’t going to give in. "Lieutenant."

"I won't be insulted." His voice dropped to its familiar bored tone, as if trying to force the idea that it wouldn’t bother him.

That’s not what concerned you however. "Don't think you would be."

"Then why can't you tell me?”

"Just can't." Stellar reasoning, well done.

"I could ask them." He tilted his head in the direction of your friends, who were all watching you completely enraptured.

You didn’t back down, stare hardening at him. "Go ahead."

"Fine." He turned to the table. "What's my identifying feature?"

There was a moment of silence before someone gave in and admitted it. Traitors. "You don't have one."

There was a split second of delay before he replied. "She doesn't talk about me then?"

"Quite the opposite actually." One of your friends giggled.

Another stepped in. "Talks about you sooo much that you don't need an identifying feature. Just know who her lieutenant is."

"Besides, apparently you usually wear a mask. You have no features."

A raised finger of a counterpoint. "Arguably, the mask is the feature."

Ghost turned to you, almost smug. "You talk about me, sergeant?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Simon. You're good at what you do. I can appreciate that." You sniffed, rolling your shoulders back to force yourself to relax.

"Out loud? With your friends?"

You shot him an irritated look. "Get over yourself."

"Didn't say anything."

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "I know what you're thinking."

"I'm sure you do." He exhaled deeply, glancing away from you towards his drink.

Your own gaze moved back towards everyone else around the table. "Moving on! What else is happening with you guys?"

"Saw your parents a couple days ago. They said they didn't know you were home."

Well, that wasn’t the jollier topic you hoped to move on to.

A fake smile automatically set itself on your face at the mention of your family. "Fuck. What did you say?"

"Lied for you and said you only just got back. Might want to call them."

"I will do that. At some point.” Lie, lie, lie.

"Mhm, your sister had another baby as well. That's what? The fourth niece or nephew you haven't met?" There was a note of condescension in your friend’s voice.

You shrugged, knowing you had a decent enough reason. If your job counted as decent. "I've been busy. And it's only the second."

"We're not judging. Your parents might be though."

"Well, that's lovely to know." You slouched down in your seat. The relationship with your parents was… touchy, to say the least. Desperately seeking their approval for years had left the bond with them strained. And you being away from home so often definitely hadn’t helped the rockiness of it all.

"Also they seem convinced that you've met a military man and are going to come home engaged or married..."

Your face scrunched in disgust. "Oh, ew. What the fuck?"

Simon elbowed you harshly in the ribs. "We're not that bad."

"Share a bunk with Soap and come back to me on that." You snapped back. Your fellow sergeant was a snorer who regularly farted in his sleep. He was like your brother but man did you hate having to sleep in close proximity to him.

"Fair point.” He grumbled back to you. “But why are they under that impression?"

"They know I don't date civilians."

"Or anyone." One of your friends mumbled in her drink.

"Thank you.” You sent her a sarcastic smile. “So they think I'm after a man in uniform."

"Aren't you?" The same friend asked.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw. "In... theory."

"Not in practice though." She carried on, loving the way you were squirming.

"We know not in practice, okay? Doesn't need to be said aloud.” You spared a glance at the man beside you before adding a harsh whisper. “Especially in front of my lieutenant."

"I'm sure Simon is loving this."

"It comes with the job. Family troubles and no love life." He offered some of your words back to you from earlier, shrugging. You were glad of the support from him, even if it was only your own thoughts.

"You got any friends for her Simon? Anyone on the team you think she'd be good with?"

He shook his head. "Nah, not good enough for her."

Wait, what? Not good enough? For you? Since when did he have such a high opinion of you?

A friend of yours cooed. "That's sweet. If it helps, she's great in the sack."

You choked on the mouthful of drink you were taking, slamming your glass back down. "And how exactly would you know that?!"

"I shared a house with you in uni, babes. I remember all those guys coming out of your room with dazed smiles looking as if they'd just had the time of their life." She grinned at you slyly.

Eyes wide. Jaw dropped. Heart racing. "Oh, my god. Please shut up."

"You asked."

"I didn't need such a detailed answer!” You were ignored.

"Although you may be quite rusty at the moment. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

You covered your face with your hands. "For the love of everything that is good in this world, please be quiet."

"I'm just saying. We're all friends here, aren't we?" She laughed, mainly gesturing towards your higher up.

"He's my lieutenant!"

"Wait, Simon, are you single?"

You cut in before it could go any further. "Nope! Okay! So... sister? Baby. Parents? Delusional. What else?"

Everyone around the table chuckled at your reaction but moved on anyway, much to your relief.

"They're hoping you’re home for Christmas this year."

Your hand tightened around your drink. "I hope I'm not."

"Thought you'd say that."

Paying little attention to what your friend actually said, you mumbled to yourself. "That's fucking ridiculous of them. What the actual fuck?"

"We said the same." Mumbled loud enough for them to overhear apparently.

Simon looked confused. "What's the issue there?"

You failed to answer so someone else did for you. "They uninvited her to Christmas three years ago. Hasn't been back since."

"Why would they do that?"

"Didn't approve of her lifestyle."

He turned to you. "Your... lifestyle?"

"Murderer daughter." You bit back, bitterly.

His body tightened with tension. "You're not a murderer."

"Tell them that." You snorted. "Why do they want me home now?"

"Beats us.” Your friends said in weird unison.

"Wish they'd make their mind up over whether they want to disown me or not. It's exhausting trying to keep up."

The table laughed at that. Simon did not. But did he laugh at anything?

“I’m gonna get another drink. Want one?” He looked down at you, pointing vaguely at your almost empty glass.

“Uhh… sure. Thanks.” You smiled at him, which he obviously didn’t return. After briefly asking everyone else if they wanted anything, which they declined, he stalked off in the direction of the bar.

Once he was a few paces away, one of your friends practically launched herself halfway across the table and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "He's gorgeous, babes."

You decided to play coy. "You think?"

"You don't?" Her brow was raised in disbelieving accusation.

The coy act was dropped pretty quickly. "Oh, I know he is. Just didn't think you would."

"Well, I do. And he’s definitely your type, absolutely perfect for you. Plus he so likes you."

You scoffed. "No, he doesn't."

"He fancies the pants off of you!" She insisted.

You didn’t buy it. "I can guarantee that he does not."

"He can't take his eyes off you!"

"He has a staring problem." You shrugged, it was true.

"Yeah, the problem is that he can't stop staring at you."

You thought about it. Yeah, he stared at you a lot. But he stared at everything. Didn't mean he stared at you with... feelings or whatever your friends were implying. Just that he had a staring problem.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley does not like me." It was a finalised statement, one that you believed wholeheartedly.

"Open your eyes, babes. He likes you."

"Do you like him?"

Avoid answering. "Not allowed to like him. He's my lieutenant."

"That doesn't answer our question."

Shit.

"Maybe a little." You pinched your fingers together, there was no point lying to them, and shook your head. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"Why?"

"Because, say he did like me, he'd never admit it. And I'm not going to push him into anything. I'm just glad he's talking to me and accepting my attempt at us being friends." That was true. You were loving how he wasn’t completely rejecting your friendship. He maybe wasn’t embracing it but he wasn’t pushing you away either.

"That's so sad, babes."

"Cheers.” You deadpanned. “It can't happen anyway."

"Why not?"

"Relationships aren't allowed. Makes us a liability. My captain would reassign one of us as soon as he caught wind of it. And it would be me." The thought of Price reassigning you was horrid. You loved your team more than anything.

"Simon said he wouldn't let your captain reassign you."

That was true, he did. "He was joking... I think."

"I don't think he was. That man stares at you like he's ready to eat you. It's like listening to Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen in real life!"

Groan. "You watched Dirty Dancing again, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is that Simon looks at you with hungry eyes. And don't judge my love for Dirty Dancing." Two of your friends nodded in agreement with her.

"I'm not. I'm judging your favourite song choice when Love Is Strange by Mickey and Sylvia is clearly the superior song on the soundtrack." You said as you downed the last bit of your drink, thankful Simon was bringing you another one. Your mouth was dry and the initial buzz was wearing off. You’d need more alcohol if this interrogation was going to continue despite it probably not being the best idea.

"Blasphemy!” She declared before quietening herself. “Oop, we gotta be quiet now because he's coming back over. Simon!"

He froze in his tracks, a glass clasped in each large hand. "Yes?"

"Can you settle a debate for us?"

You froze too, wide-eyed. They weren't going to ask about him staring at you, were they?

"Sure...?"

You smiled at his unsure tone. Big, scary man who got shot at for a living was terrified of answering a little question.

"You've seen Dirty Dancing, yeah?"

You relaxed.

"I have."

Surprising.

"Which is a better song? Hungry Eyes or Love Is Strange?"

"Oh, I... uh-"

"Leave the poor man alone." You laughed despite being a little curious about his music taste.

"I always liked She's Like the Wind."

That shocked you to your core. "Patrick Swayze fan?"

"Used to have a mullet just like his." He placed your drink in front of you. "Here you go. You look surprised."

"I always am when you don't disappear. And when you admit to being a Patrick Swayze fan." You snorted, taking the drink from him.

"Learn to have a little faith, Sarge." He sighed as he sat down next to you again, an inch closer than before you were sure.

A burning feeling settled in your chest at the nickname. Sure, it was only a shortened version of your rank, and a common one at that, but it was something. Not sergeant. Not woman. Sarge. You decided to let it slide to see if he’d ever do it again of his own accord.

"Your name's Ghost for a reason." You sing-songed, the image of his mask flashing through your mind.

"I'll give you that. But remember, Simon here."

"Still weird."

"Still Simon."

You chewed the inside of your bottom lip before asking your next question. "Patrick Swayze?"

"He was blond."

"Like you, you mean?"

Hesitation. "Yeah."

You hummed and thought about him with a mullet. What an odd thing to admit to you. But you’d never complain. If Simon was willing to offer you little tidbits of silly information about himself, then you were going to absorb every single one and treasure them forever.

A/N: Simon with a mullet as a teen because he wanted to be Patrick Swayze when he grew up is canon to me now.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost riley #ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley fanfiction #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #ej’s fics #ej’s writing

[aerowolf]

the mercs realize it's your bday and you didn't tell anyone because your family doesn't do birthdays

I’m so sorry this is a mess between British and American english. I have an American parent and a Canadian one so it messed me up lolll

if didn't include a Merc you wanted, feel free to request and I'll try and add them :]

includes: Miss Pauling & offense classes

cute platonic, gn!reader

warnings: n/a, this is basically all fluff

You'd rather not make a big deal of it being your birthday, even though it is you were taught that birthdays aren't a big deal and your family never really did them.

You kind of wish someone would care but you feel guilty about that so you choose not to tell anyone about it

The only one of these who actually knows it's your birthday is Miss Pauling, who’s seen your personnel files

Miss Pauling

She knows it's your birthday, and instead of ignoring it she decides to at least discreetly make it a good day for you

She arrives on base for a routine inspection, clipboard in hand, but once she's done with the main thing, instead of leaving, she comes to your room

"I saw that it's your birthday today. I don't know if you celebrate, or anything, but, uh, I thought you'd like a gift. Maybe."

She hands you a box, inside are some candy bars and a plush of a bear

"I know it's not exactly the nicest thing, and I know it's kinda... stereotypical... but, y'know, I thought you'd like something. So, happy birthday. From me.” She’s really shy about it, you get the feeling she didn’t--probably still doesn’t--really get to celebrate birthdays either. 

She offers you a ride on her motorbike, something nice, on the open road--away from this base for a little while. You accept, taking a seat behind her, enjoying the open air--though it is pretty hot out. You guys talk, just enjoying the time.

She smiles at you as you get back. “Happy birthday. You deserve it.”

You thank her and even give her a hug. It’s nice that you got this for once. 

Scout

He has no idea whatsoever that it’s your birthday. He’s interacting with you like usual, teasing you, just hanging out. You’re happy as you talk that day; he’s always good at making you laugh and smile.

At some point he notices that you’re a little down, as much as you may try to hide it, he can tell. You’re his friend, and even though he might act like he doesn’t care sometimes, you know he does. A lot.

You tell yourself you don’t want anything on your birthday, that it’s easier if no one knows, but secretly, you do.

“Hey, what’s up? C’mon, ya know I can tell when something’s wrong.” 

You tell him it’s nothing. 

“You sure? Really? You’re kinda… I dunno, sadder than usual.” After he asks a few times, you finally come out and tell him. You don’t say much. Just “It’s my birthday.”

“No kiddin’? Well, why didn’t ya tell me?” He comes off pretty strong. You feel kind of apologetic for mentioning it, and look away from him. “Aw, hey. Y’know what--it don’t matter. I’m gonna throw you a party like you ain’t never seen, believe me.”

You try to tell him you don’t want a party--well, you do. Maybe. No you don’t. Well, sure. But not a big one. He’s really sweet and enthusiastic about it. “Someone like you deserves a big birthday--but if you don’t want it, dat’s okay. Ya know, we could just hang out, or somethin’. You n’ me, yeah?” 

You tell him you’d like that a lot. You both find a quiet spot in the base where you can just talk. He messes around, too, and pops in a Tom Jones record. 

He’s a little shy, a little embarrassed, but he even sings happy birthday to you. He just seems glad no one can hear him. He doesn’t have a gift handy for you, but he ends up scribbling you a quick doodle of him telling you happy birthday. It’s misspelt, but the drawing is cute, and you keep it. “I hope ya had a good day. I’m just sorry I didn’t know sooner.” You tell him that it wasn’t his fault, how could he have known? 

After all is done, he gives you an awkward hug. You smile and return it.

Soldier

He’s a little crazy so he’s just hanging around base, today he had the idea to strip and cover himself in honey, so everyone has had to convince him to please not do that, and now he’s just moping around, muttering about how anti patriotic this all is.

You sit next to him and mope as well. Unlike him, no one knows the reason you’re moping. To anyone else’s point of view, you’re just comforting him--for whatever weird reason. But he sees that you’re just as sad as him.

“What’s wrong, maggot? Is there someone who needs to see my fists meet their face?”

You tell him no, no one did anything. You’re a little intimidated by him, and you don’t see much reason to tell him anyways. But it’s nice sitting with a friend. 

“If it’s not a person, then… it must be an object! Give it to me and I will destroy it immediately.” He’s being as sweet as he can, you smile and shake your head.

You sit there for a bit, smiling as you watch the other mercs come and go. Today isn’t a bad day, just a little sad. Later, you plan to find some kind of sweet treat to eat alone.

Soldier stands up, at attention, and points at you. “MAGGOT, AS YOUR SUPERIOR AND SENIOR, I ORDER YOU TO TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG!”

With a sad smile and a chuckle you finally tell him.

“Your birthday?” Soldier seems genuinely surprised. He places a hand on his chin and thinks. “We cannot go without celebrating! This is momentous!”

Although you try to protest, he turns to the base, stating to every other merc, “LISTEN UP! IT IS Y/N’S BIRTHDAY AND WE WILL CELEBRATE!” 

He makes it his personal mission to decorate for a party that very evening, even gets a cake and everything. He makes every other merc sing happy birthday with him. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

You give him a big hug, and he is surprised at first, but proceeds to give a gentle laugh and hug back.

Pyro

You see Pyro colouring with crayons and coloured pencils on their break, and you sit by them. You don’t really understand what they’re saying a lot of the time, but you enjoy hanging out with them. It’s a long period of silence before you join them in colouring. Regardless of your artistic skills, they’re impressed and encourage you, and are very happy when you show them what you’ve been working on. 

After a little while you get kind of bored and sad. You’ve tried to enjoy this day but it’s another bittersweet birthday. You’re happy to hang out with Pyro though, even though they don’t know what day it is.

Pyro notices that you’ve stopped colouring with them, and that you’re looking at the ground instead, messing with the cracks in the floor.

“Huddah hrmmf mmmrph?” You don’t understand what they’re saying exactly, but you smile at them. They seem to be asking what’s wrong, why you stopped, why you seem so sad.

You hesitate for a moment before finally confessing. They seem to mostly understand what you mean, and they lean back, thinking. 

After a few seconds, they stand up and help pull you off the floor. They point to their room, and you follow them. It’s an odd combination of scorch marks, colourful drawings, weapons, and art supplies. They lead you to a wardrobe and pull out a box. 

Surprisingly, you can see that it's fully wrapped. Did they somehow know it was your birthday? Do they keep these gifts on hand for the mercs?

You won’t get an answer, but they excitedly push it out and offer it to you. “Huddah hmmph!” They sound almost like they are smiling behind the mask. You take the box and open it. It’s got crayons, pencils, and… wow, that’s a drawing of you and them.

You smile, almost ready to tear up, and thank them. You give them a hug, and you notice that they’re hugging you back even harder. Maybe they don’t really understand, but this is sweet.

#Merc x reader #tf2 x reader #platonic tf2 x reader #platonic x reader #pyro x reader #platonic pyro x reader #scout x reader #platonic scout x reader #Soldier x reader #platonic soldier x reader #miss Pauling x reader #Pauling x reader #platonic Pauling x reader #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 hcs #tf2 headcanons #ivy speaks #ivy writes tf2 #tf2 fluff #fluff headcanons #my writing

[valenishere]

Sagau Idea

I'm not that good with writing YouPoV's so there may be some odd usage of they's and thems then switching to "you"'s. this'll be stock full of typos so be warned

Mentions of injury, implied murder, blood, and implied cult

It's been a long while since I've gotten into Self-aware genshin aus, reading the fluffiest scenes to straight up gore. And theres this concept I saw about where the creator (basically, you) can make any oc come to life and help them out. (this one read it s really good. They also expanded on it go read it too its a really neat build-up on it. this one)

And as a DnD enjoyer as well... there's this idea thats been brewing in my head whenever i think back to it.

What if in Imposter!au where they're being constantly being hunted... after getting cornered in one of the nations (in the Chasm for example) they get desperate and try out an idea they don't think would work.

While resting after being in the brink of death(again) in a place Teyvat has helped you conceal, your thoughts wander. You think, why is there even a Creator? There isn't supposed to be one. That kinda concept just disrupts everything they know about the game. It's a ridiculous concept. In your delirious state, you think, "I wish that just disappears... Then i wouldn't be..."

Then you remebered the curious ability you've recently unlocked in your "adventures". The ability to create characters, with some limitations. It took you quite a bit to adjust to your newfound ability and its caveats, resulting in a few heartbreaking loss on the way.

But as a DnD player, overcoming the death of your beloved characters quickly is a mental fortitude you've developed. And it's handy that you've already made a few characters for your past sessions before landing in Teyvat. It saved you from being one-shotted right from the start.

Although now... You're down to only one left.

"... I'm so tired..."

The mental stress of being in a constant state of danger, paranoia, hunger, pain, and exhaustion have worn you down to a point where you can't even think up of more characters to make up for the one's that have recently passed. You slipped up so bad because of sleeplessness that your last capable party of characters died and a hole was speared through your gut too.

As you lay bleeding on the cold ground, with only a talking mushroom to keep you company, you wrack your brain to put together a proper character but... you really can't. You can't even think straight. Not with the recent information you've found out.

The so-called Creator is now creating their very own characters, their very own people/army, through alchemy, and is now sending them after you, thus increasing your hunters by double. And on top of the already powerful vision-holders (of course they're powerful, you made them that way), you figured... "Ah... I'm fucked..."

Knowing you might as well be as good as done now, you didn't even bother bringing out the last of your characters to heal you. It's not like healing yourself will make you forget about this lifelong trauma--

... Forget?

...

A fleeting thought.

A dumb fleeting thought. A very dumb one at that.

One that will for sure backfire in your face if you do it wrong. And quite frankly, it could spell the end for this world, even for the one they call Creator.

... But it's not like you have anything else to lose.

And so, within the dim light of the mushroom, you painstakingly start to write. Word for word, cramming everything information you know, as deatiled as you can make it into bringing it into life. A character you've never tried making before. Something that could possibly end your suffering. Or make it worse.

You honestly don't know if you're doing it right. After all, you've never tried something like it before.

"What are you making this time?' the ever so curious mushroom asked.

You grin, a manic look in your eyes. "Either my stupidest... or my brightest idea yet."

It's not long befere you finished. You gaze upon your finished product and you have to say... it's even more fleshed out than your best characters. And that quick sketch you drew... you swear those hollow eyes are following you already. That may be just the blood loss talking.

"That's... one ugly worm you've drawn..." The mushroom hums, like it can just see the monstrosity that you've created.

You chuckle breathlessly, looking almost solemn with what you're about to do. Well... it' not wrong. But...

"This is my kid. Their name is... Falseh. Get along well with them... okay?"

0===|>>>>>.

The very ground trembles as the Lord of Geo strides through the dark tunnels, a dark look in his eyes and a spear in his hand. If his presence wasn't enough, the murderous intent rolling off of him in waves is enough to deter any beasts from crossing his path.

The imposter was last seen slinking around the depths of the Chasm by one of the Tianquan's agents. Although failing to execute the imposter the first chance they got with their incompetence, Morax have to commend the Qixing for being able to find them even in the depths of the earth.

For some reason, the land seems to reject his commands from time to time now. He was baffled as to why his beloved Maker is hindering him in fulfilling his given mission but he's just been informed that the land defiance of him is due to the imposter infecting the land with their vile abilities.

Now, he's even more hellbent on making sure to drive his spear through the imposters heart and presenting it to his Grace. He won't miss a second time.

His eyes sharpens as a he a cavern just up ahead, soft blue light spilling through entrance. Tightening his grip on his spear, the power of Geo gathers in his other, ready to skewer someone five times into death if he so wishes.

He steps through the entrance and immediately lands on a figure, leaning prone under a giant glowing mushroom. He relaxes a bit. He recognizes this place. It's a bit close to the Land of Verdure, Sumeru. He needs to be careful. He can't be caught flaunting his power on another Archons domain after all.

Approaching the figure, he gets a bit surprised as they twitch, looking up to him through their hair. They try to talk, but all they can manage are quiet wheezes.

'Oh. They're still breathing. That's good.' Zhongli kneels down beside them, looking them over. They look like they've been dragged through the Abyss and back. Their midriff is bandaged heavily but it's already bled through, forming a pool of their own blood below them. He frowns lightly. It must be quite a big injury if it's bleeding this much.

Wordlessly, he holds a hand over the injury and channels his power. He's not the most profficient in healing, but he should at least be able to stop the bleeding.

Mere moments later, he have plugged up the injury and the figure is now able to stand up.

"Th-Thank you so much Rex Lapis!" they bow down. Or at least, they bow down the best they can without opening their wound. "Any longer and I would've surely perished..."

Zhongli waves them off nonchalantly as he starts to walk back out the way he came. "It's best you get back to the surface. Your injury needs to be properly tended. And I can see that..."

His eyes drifts to the scattered bloody bandages and practically empty backpack. "You've run out of supplies. It is a virtue to you mortals to know when to give up. Remember that."

"Y-Yes sir Rex Lapis sir! I'll get back right away!" they start to quickly collect their things, haphazardly stuffing the bandages and handbook into the bag, being careful of their injury.

The Lord of Geo just watches for a moment before completely leaving, trusting that they won't make any stupid mistake and go back post haste.

After he has left, you pause in your packing, leaning against the mushroom and slowly sliding down with a shaky breath.

"Y-You... didn't you say he and the entirety of the world was hunting for you?" The mushroom hums in confusion, sharing your tension. "What was that? Heck, he was the one that put a hole through you and he healed you!"

You chuckle breathlessly, the manic look intensifying in your eyes as it dawns on you that it worked. That stupid idea of yours actually worked!

And if you can get to the Creator... you can make this whole concept disappear altogether. Forever.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see it. A large mass of hairless flesh writhing about, multiple tentacle-like appendages potruding out of it. It's slithering it's limbs about, coiling around the mushroom and and back again, and around you as well.

But when you turn your head to actually look, there's nothing there. All you can hear is what seems to be muffled humming, an eerie tune listlessly flowing through the air (but somehow, the sound is the most comforting thing ever).

"Oh it's nothing. I think... he just heard something that made him forget."

#chaotic blabbing #spreadingchaos #genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #sagau impostor au #sagau brainrot #sagau x reader #genshin isekai #A Creature That Sings A Song That Makes You Forget #shi its already 2 in the morning #I wrote this half asleep so dont be surprised if it doesnt make sense #Falseh is pretty easy to figure out #hint it starts with a false and it has multiple heads that can sing #its a homebrew guy but i really like 'im y'know