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bunny584 · 1 month

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OBSESSED: SHOKO feat THE BOYS (FINALE)

A/N: Well, well, well. Oh how the tables have turned, dear reader. It’s not so easy — juggling two special grades and their personal physician…is it?

S/N: This is it. The pièce de résistance. I was…this is…NO ONE LOOK AT ME AFTER YOU READ THIS. No idea the word count. Long af, though.

C/W:….the trio is their own content warning lol. Mature. 18+, MDNI.

Part I, Part II.

Is this…a dream?

This must be what it feels like to hear Domain Expansion, Infinite Void.

White static coats Shoko’s brain. She’s breathing underwater. Thinking in molasses.

It’s a miracle her legs are working — they’re currently trailing behind you and the boys, back to her apartment.

Her eyes are working, too — they’re attached to the dress rippling and bouncing off your ass. Your hips are a hypnotic pendulum. Swinging back and forth.

Back and forth.

The tailwind from your strut is a bad actor.

Every so often teasing your cotton panties that won the lottery. Kissing up against your pretty petals. Riding along the plump curve of your mounds. Accentuating the intoxicating swell of your hips.

It’s paralyzing.

You are paralyzing.

Satoru’s hand is curled around the back of your neck. His azure glow is so pristine, so bright it refracts off your gorgeous cheekbones. Dampening his Limitless and intensifying his Six Eyes.

Because the first to taste a meal is usually one’s eyes…right?

Shoko can nearly hear the depravity ringing between Satoru’s ears.

Then there’s Suguru.

An arm is draped around your waist, capturing and releasing the hem of your dress every few seconds. Mindless movements. His sniper-like gaze focused on the apartment door at the end of the hall.

Cool. Calm. Collected.

One would think, if you don’t know Suguru well enough.

His normally, perfectly repressed cursed energy surrounds him. Flickering into the air like campfire embers just waiting for the next gust of wind to erupt. Amethyst and graphite swarm around her best friend — the only indicator of his disintegrating self-control.

20 steps left until she is expected to produce door keys. The only thing standing between everyone and you.

This is it.

This is the moment. The one chance you get at ‘doing it right this time.’

15 steps.

There are no more wishes granted. No more genies stuffed into bottles, or whatever. This is it.

10 steps.

Get your shit together, Ieiri.

Do not squander this on the sidelines.

Shoko wires around the three of you. Stepping ahead to slot the frivolous piece of aluminum standing between her and her wet dream.

The apartment door flies open. Satoru’s hand moves on autopilot — deepening his grip around your neck.

His conscious brain recedes. Triple distilled, unadulterated need moves in like a tropical storm.

Silky strands of your hair plaited in his fingers.

Wide, warm eyes locked into his.

Tiny slit in those pouty, siren lips of yours.

He will dismantle you. Piece by fucking piece.

Until you’re a babbling, sobbing brook beneath his fingers. Apologizing for being such a cocktease.

“Satoru…?”

There’s a change in your voice.

Fear? Nerves?

Prey finally realizing who is next on the menu?

Satoru is staring. Fully aware of how disarming his eyes can be. Born with godlike vision and somehow the only thing he can see in the room is you.

His greed is a threat to National Security. DEFCON Level 1.

His mouth ghosts yours. Barely registering Suguru encasing you from behind. Trailing his palms along your thighs.

“Safe word, princess.” Satoru maps every ridge, every teeth indent on that gorgeous bottom lip.

“For when you need to tap out.” Suguru augments Satoru’s command. Gentle nip at the tip of your ear and you moan. Bitten back and clipped.

“Such pretty sounds,” Shoko’s voice is distant. Breathy. Coated in Cabernet.

“I..don’t—”

Satoru slices your protest in half. Rolling your bottom lip under his teeth. Biting and licking his way across your pout. At the same time Suguru drops his mouth to your pulse point.

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” Suguru murmurs into your neck. A filthy fucking whine escapes your lips and Satoru’s fingers go to your nipple.

Hard. Pert and neglected. Desperate for attention.

Just like you.

The way you’re panting into Satoru’s mouth. Listless and loose, bending into Suguru’s presence behind you.

“He gave you an order, baby.” Suguru’s smile is so tender. Almost torturous against your oversensitive skin.

“Don’t…ah..don’t need a safe word.”

A weak declaration against Satoru’s kiss. Earning yourself a sharp twist of your sensitive buds. And gifting him a kitten squeal that makes his cock twitch.

“Ohhhh Suguru, Shoko. We have a brat on our hands.” He muses, hovering his lips over yours. Satoru pets the steel rod between his legs. Already dewy with his arousal.

You are so beautiful, trying to resist their coordinated touch. The sound of Suguru’s large hand palming your ass reverberates throughout the room.

“I’ll teach her some manners.”

Suguru’s voice trails down your spine. Slow and sickly sweet. Like maple sap dripping down tree bark mid spring. He caresses the hot sting from his spanking.

“I—I have manners.” Voice as small as your frame engulfed between the 6’3 counterparts.

“I won’t ask again, princess.” Satoru tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. And Suguru continues sucking kisses into your neck, marking his territory.

“Uh..mmm..god, S—“ Your eyes flutter closed. An earnest attempt to stay present. And not settle into the fuzzy, warm submission they are baiting you into.

“Safe word, now.”

“B—um. Blue? Blue.” Your resolve is about as rigid as cotton.

“Blue?”

“Well that’s not fair.”

Shoko and Suguru’s incredulous reactions intertwine with Satoru’s smug chuckle. A dusty rose high on your cheeks.

You know why you chose Blue. Everyone else does, too.

“Blue, huh?” Satoru presses a soft kiss on your lips.

“To match me? Noted, baby.”

Shoko melts into her couch. Her heartbeat rattles around her skull. With short, ineffective breaths that taste like full bodied red wine. Wet heat surges around her lace thong.

The way you’re writhing between her best friends’ hands is sinful.

Gazing up at Satoru like he is Vincent Van Gogh and the Starry Night above you is the product of his paintbrush.

Incoherent as if Suguru’s fingers put the Sun to bed. Whimpering his name like a prayer.

Adorable, girl.

God isn’t going to save you here.

The pads of Shoko’s cool fingers nearly sizzle against her puffy pleasure point. Slick coating her with just one, two, three long stripes against her sticky folds.

“God...fuck..bring her to me.” The grit in Shoko’s tone scrapes along her voice box. Matching the aggressive pace of her fingers against her needy cunt.

The boys lock gazes with their third. Cavalier smile tugging against Satoru’s lips. Suguru’s brow touches his hairline.

Ladies, first.

“You heard her.” Satoru snakes your arms around his neck and hoists you around his waist in one fluid motion.

“S—sato—“ He bullies his tongue back into your mouth. No more protesting, gorgeous.

Slow steps towards Shoko, so he can drink from your well. A sweet, delectable spell dripping from your lips. And if Satoru doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning after eating your forbidden fruit, then so be it.

Suguru lets himself watch you from a short distance.

His hand can’t stop rubbing his cock. Shamelessly tugging his heavy rod. Burning your little expressions into his mind’s safe. The way your eyebrows come together at the center whenever Satoru bites your bottom lip. Your desperate grabs for air against his relentless kiss.

“Hi, pretty.” Shoko drawls the moment Satoru settles you down on her lap. Her thigh digs into your soaked, gummy core. Glazing her skin with your drool.

“Hi, Sho.” Still panting from Satoru’s embrace. So fragile. A harsh breeze could shatter you to stardust. And Shoko pulsates around nothing.

One hand is firm on your hip. The other tracing mindless shapes on your chest. Leaving a poetic cascade of goosebumps in her wake.

Reflexively, you go to caress Shoko’s shoulders only to be caught by Satoru’s enormous grip. Whipping both of your wrists behind your back. While his other hand toys with the erection straining against his pants.

“She didn’t give you permission to touch, did she princess?” He drops his tone into the shell of your ear.

“Oh, I—“

“Manners, gorgeous.” A gentle reminder in between smearing kisses along your neck. Shoko hooks her index finger along your neckline. One tug and your mouth-watering tits come into full view.

“Fucking, hell.”

“God, baby.”

“Perfect…fucking perfect.”

Satoru, Suguru and Shoko’s praises crash into one another. God took his time with you. Sculpting a fucking masterpiece.

To be praised.

To be worshipped.

To be taken.

Used.

Filled.

“Shoko. I want to hear her.”

Suguru’s command is guttural. Fist snug around the base of his cock. Shameless about the tears of precum falling down his shaft.

Shoko’s fingers work their way down to your pulsing clit. You preen into her touch. Pretty, tiny gasps against her cheek.

“Let it out, baby.” Shoko coos into your ear. Thumbing little circles around your clit.

You bury your face into her neck. Delicious ache swelling between your legs. Grinding along her slender thigh. Honey seeping around your clothed cunt.

“S—sho, mmnngh..fuck..” Desperation fans Shoko’s neck. Bucking your hips with your hands restrained.

“There she is.”

Suguru’s fist slams to his hilt. Now close enough to cup your perky mound. Rippling and bouncing with every jolt. Feathering his finger over your pebbled bud.

The sudden touch and velvet voice above you drags your gaze upward.

And Suguru nearly cums in his hand right then and there.

Misty eyes, drool covered lips. Breathy pants. Angelic features rewritten by lust.

“Suguru?”

“Such a good girl. Keep fucking her thigh like that, baby.”

Throaty praise in return. Suguru rips his hand away from his angry length. Staving off his finish.

Not yet.

They’re not remotely close to being done with you yet.

“She’s so responsive.” Satoru chimes in. Releasing his grip on your wrists.

Your hands fly to Shoko’s face. Melding your mouth with hers. Leaking precious sounds, from your lips and your sopping wet core. His hand kneads your neglected breast, pinching your nipple every so often.

Satoru and Suguru palming at your tits. Shoko fucking your mouth with her tongue. You humping Shoko’s leg like a dog in heat.

It’s too much.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashes into your groin. You nestle into the crook of her neck. Grasping at her thick, brunette locks.

“S-sho, I’m close, I’m—mmgh..”

“It’s okay pretty,” Shoko husks. Her thumb at a perfect rhythm and pressure.

“You can cum, baby.” Suguru rasps, tugging at your nipple at the same time Satoru smacks the supple flesh he was petting.

“Oh fuck oh fuck—“

The delicious sting from their touches sends you over the edge. And the wire seated deep in your stomach snaps. Hips stuttering to an abrupt stop.

The room stills. Satoru, Suguru and Shoko studying your micro movements through your peak. So quiet that the walls have to lean in to hear you and your lovers breathing.

Six eyes laser into your body. Everyone’s appetite for you simultaneously tripling.

Satoru swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Subconsciously aware of the pool of saliva forming. His manhood mirroring the trail of drool running down his mouth.

He’s always been a fan of dessert.

“I need to taste you.”

“And I need a front row seat.” Shoko nibbles at your cheek.

Satoru lifts and spins you around on Shoko’s lap in a matter of seconds. You, still gummy and compliant from your orgasm spread your legs weakly over Shoko. Earning you a chorus of praise from your lust-drunk lovers.

He drops to his knees. His blushing, weeping tip in hand. Pushing your sodden panties to the side. While Shoko cradles your thigh in her hand, holding you open for her best friend.

Your rose blooms in front of him. Dewy with your slick. Candied scent holding all of Satoru’s senses hostage.

“Look at how pretty, she is.” He breezes against your swollen pearl. Your petals quiver, and his dick leaks.

“S—Satoru..please.”

Satoru’s head is spinning. Entirely drunk off of the sight of you like this. Choking back his own pathetic groans.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your ripe folds. And your taste pollenates his mind for an eternity. An addict with his chosen vice.

Your hands magnet to his snowy halo. The melody you sing from his kisses and licks could sink any ship. Echoing in Satoru’s and Shoko’s groin.

Shoko is in a complete haze. Molesting herself numb at the way you undulate against Satoru’s eager tongue. Pitiful little mewls that are worthy of a platinum record.

“Feeling good, gorgeous?” Shoko eggs you on. Quickly sinking into her own threatened orgasm.

“Y—yes..mmgh so..god..” Paper thin squeals from your lips.

Crystals line your eyes in response to Satoru’s tongue fucking in and out of your pussy. Suckling your clit. Figures of 8, and 8 and 8 again until your mind is mush.

Except Suguru refuses to let you get lost at Satoru’s sea. He grips a handful of your hair, whipping your head in his direction.

Both you and Shoko tilt up to see Suguru’s driveling manhood at your eye level. Veiny, heavy. So clearly abused by his hand. Volcanic eruption in his hooded gaze.

“Hands on my cock, baby.”

Barely above a whisper, but somehow your body recognizes his authority.

And you seem genuinely shocked by your visceral obedience. Immediate acquiescence to Surguru’s will.

An approving grin teases Suguru’s lips. Your hands are comically small wrapped around his length.

God, he could split you in half.

Heavy eyelids from Satoru’s agonizing touch, you’re mystical. Gazing into Suguru’s eyes like his soul is nothing but an appetizer. Yours to swallow, digest, play with.

“Ask nicely.” Suguru grunts, as your eyes rake over his leaky cockhead. Longing for a taste.

Satoru and Shoko come to a hush. Her fingers slow. Satoru forces himself off of your folds. Somehow knowing the next words to roll off your tongue will shift their brain chemistry, permanently.

Palatial lashes fan your utterly fucked-out gaze. Swollen lips millimeters away from Suguru’s blunt tip.

“May I suck your cock, please?”

Filthy-nasty-dirty-fucking-vulgar noises fill the room, while you swirl Suguru’s cum covered head around your tongue.

“Fuck. Your lips baby.” He hisses, his hips piston into your pretty, accepting mouth.

“So messy, princess.” Satoru murmurs into your swollen cunt, slipping his fingers past your tight ringlet.

Beautiful gurgles around Suguru’s shaft. Crystalline streams of spit glazing your puffy tits.

You buck into Satoru at a similar, haphazard pace that he strokes his thick rod. Shoko sinks her teeth into your shoulder.

“G-gonna c..gonna—“ high pitched, broken warnings spill from your lips. Just as a blinding wave of electricity surges down Shoko’s legs — curling her pedicure inward.

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

Suguru’s decadent baritone sends both you and Shoko over the hot edge. A cacophony of huffs and whines, coating the walls in your shared ecstasy. Spraying your essence all over Satoru’s face.

He’s slow to stand. Savoring remnants of your peak. He and Suguru exchange sordid glances. Sharing the same thought.

Pretty little doll.

Loose limbed and spent in Shoko’s lap. Hair mused. So deeply entrenched into sub space you’ll need to sleep it off of to come to your senses.

A work of art, you are.

But not quite broken, yet.

“It’s our turn now, little one.” Deep and measured. Thick with want. Suguru lifts you by your arms off of Shoko’s lap.

His back lays flush against the couch. You straddle his muscular lap. Satoru stands directly behind you.

Suguru’s manhood is rigid. You’d have to impale yourself on him to get any closer. Similarly, Satoru’s length makes itself very present along the curve of your spine.

“Look at me.” Satoru’s throaty demand comes from above your head.

Obedience is the only language you can currently speak, so you tilt back. Soaking in the celestial boy behind you. Closer to God than Man, from this vantage point.

“You want to taste yourself, baby?”

A rhetorical question from Satoru, but you still bobble your head in an eager yes.

“Such a desperate little puppy, aren’t you?” Suguru mocks you, taking one of your puffy nipples into his mouth.

“She is.”

Satoru affirms in between spearing your mouth with his warm muscle. Kissing the breath directly from your lungs until you’re air hungry and clawing at his neck. Leaving red streaks on his pale skin.

Shoko has since poured herself another glass of red wine. Settling herself on the long arm of her couch.

‘Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything they do to you in the the most permanent part of her mind.’

Dèjá Vu.

But this lifetime? This reiteration of events? It’s fucking sublime.

Shoko’s lips curl into a cheshire smile against the rim of her glass. Hedonistic on every single level known to man and she wouldn’t have it any another way.

Her eyes flicker down to where Suguru’s hands are eclipsing your hips. And Satoru’s hands are cradled into the small of your waist. Hovering you over Suguru’s cock. The weapon of mass destruction that it is.

“Suguru…Suguru it won’t…” Beautiful little panic ascending in pitch.

“It won’t, what baby?” He teases. Eyes fixed on you like the apex predator he is.

Crimson erupts from the tip of your nose to the tips of your ears. Fluttering away from his quicksand gaze.

“What’s the matter, pretty? Don’t tell me you think you can’t handle—“

“I can handle it—I can…handle it.” You cut Satoru’s taunt down, convincing absolutely no one in the room— including yourself.

But the shred of pride you have left comes forward. Bracing your hands on Suguru’s flexed shoulders. Digging little crescent moons into his olive skin.

He can barely bite back the groan in his throat when your wet heat drags along his cockhead.

Twitching around your opening.

Feigning for entry.

“Go ahead, little one.”

“You can do it, baby.”

“Oh FUCK..GOD.” Your volume is nothing in comparison to the fire incinerating your plush walls. Stretching your womanhood in a way that’s ungodly.

Suguru is blinding.

Flashing lights. Black spots in the visual field. Floaters everywhere kind of blinding. The prior encouragement from your lovers did nothing to soften his blow.

Knowing this would be the result of you trying to work his inhuman length inside yourself, Suguru buries himself in one side of your neck. Satoru mirrors his action on the other side.

Gentle adoration. Tender kisses. Light caresses to dull the pain.

“Such a good girl.”

“I knew you could take it, princess.”

“You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl.”

Suguru rocks his hips in a slow, dreamy pace. Back and forth. Encouraging your body to reset around him. And the pressure. The delicious fucking fullness from his cock is mind numbing.

“R—ready.”

Barely loud enough to register. But Suguru could hear your red blood cells colliding with one another in your veins if you keep him next to you long enough.

“Eyes on me when I’m inside you, sweetheart.”

“Yes sir.”

The smile on his lips is no where near as tantalizing as the smile in his crushed velvet eyes.

And for a moment that is going to be on cinematic repeat in everyone’s mind — Suguru thrusts into you like a man trying to repopulate earth. Never once letting you break his eye-contact.

Melodic sounds of bodies smacking together ring throughout the room. Beautiful ripples of flesh, like soft waves during low tide. Your wet sex colliding with his. Him locking you into place because nothing else exists at this moment.

Both Satoru and Shoko’s jaws are slack. Satoru can’t even bring himself to stroke his length thrashing wildly in his hands.

This is hypnotizing.

A motion picture worthy of an Oscar.

You can feel Suguru recreating the shape of your soul. With each thrust. Deliberate. Deep. Ensuring that he will be a part of you, permanently.

“God, ngh Su—fuck..purple..” unintelligible words, incoherent sounds. You’re grasping at rescue from this pleasure.

“Hah..” Suguru’s serrated breaths kiss your lips. “Try again.”

“Suguru, please. I’m cu—I’m pink..pink.”

“Wrong color, princess.” Satoru’s husks above you. Tears of his thick cum streaming steady down his shaft.

Suguru’s bucks into you relentlessly now. Chasing the high you both are riding. Shredding what consciousness you have left. Not that you wanted it, not that you needed it.

“Fuck.”

Suguru’s hips come to a screeching halt. Floating over Shoko’s cushion. Painting your warm walls with his seed. With you filling his lap with your dew. Delirious, choppy intakes of air between your lips and his.

Momentarily forgetting your audience, you instinctively fall into his chest. Every single muscle in your body, suddenly without tone.

Satoru’s mouth is ajar.

Still not completely comprehending the fact that he just came — hands free — watching his best friend rail the conscious mind out of you.

“Blanket, Satoru.” Shoko quietly nudges from her position on the couch.

She can’t blame him for being stunned in place. Her mind is still reeling at the dessert her eyes just feasted on.

“Come here, baby.” Suguru murmurs. Working himself out of you, while Satoru drapes you in Shoko’s throw.

“Thank you.” A tiny chuckle escapes your lips. Cozying into Suguru’s arms. They should be proud of your manners.

And as if you said your cheeky thought out loud, your three lovers break into soft laughter.

“Wait here.” Satoru presses a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. Disappearing into Shoko’s bathroom a moment after.

A small sigh of relief tumbles out of her when she hears the familiar sound of bath water running.

Satoru must’ve done this before. Once or twice.

Suguru, too.

Judging by the way he’s whispering sweet affirmations in your ear. Lulling you to sleep. In his warm, safe embrace.

She’s never seen her friend like this.

“Girls! Bath time!” Satoru beckons from the bathroom.

His voice rustles you out of your post coital daze. Nestling deeper into the crook of Suguru’s neck. Shoko watches the way his eyes rest on your flushed face; stroking his hand along your arm. Intermittently pressing kisses along your hairline.

An enchanting, glass doll they were so eager to shatter just a moment ago.

“Ready, baby?”

Suguru murmurs into your ear. And Shoko just knows he’s hoping for a no. Silently praying for more time with you, pliant in his arms like this.

“Mmhm.” Your puffy lips curl up into a sleepy smile. Glossy-eyed, when you finally pull your heavy lids open.

Suguru’s breath catches in his throat.

Shoko’s heart rattles around its bony cage.

How do you do this?

How do you make it so easy to trip and fall so hopelessly in love with you with a bat of an eyelash?

“…I get it guys, but the water will get cold. And that would be a shame. Because this bath is, perfect.”

Satoru teases from the bedroom doorway. Startling Shoko and Suguru out of the trance you unintentionally put them in.

“You don’t have to carry me!” A half-protest bubbles from your lips when Suguru stands with you wrapped up in Shoko’s favorite blanket.

“Shhh, let me do this sweet girl.” He coos, for your ears only. Navigating around Satoru’s lean stature.

Shoko follows closely behind him, itching for her alone time with you.

“You’re going to let her feet touch the ground, Suguru?!”

Her sarcasm is followed by light-hearted laughter settling around your bodies.

The four of you in tandem like a world class orchestra. Shoko is already lamenting waking up from this dream.

“Not if I can help it.” Suguru sets you down on the kitchen sink. Nudging enough space for his muscular hips between your legs.

He cradles your chin in his hand. Taking as many butterfly kisses as you’ll allow.

“Mmm, goodnight, Suguru.”

His name rolls sweet and soft off of your tongue. Like a dark chocolate truffle, and suddenly Shoko wishes her name was Suguru.

Satoru does too. Judging by the way he yanks his counterpart away from you. His eyes caress your face before his hand does.

“How are you feeling, princess?”

Hushed and saccharine. Doting. As if a decibel too loud is akin to Hollow Purple. Circling his fingers around your thighs.

How foreign.

Shoko can almost taste Satoru’s concern. Attentive in a way that’s inconceivable.

From her vantage point, she watches you ensnare Satoru in those big, helpless doe eyes. Tempting him to fuck the living daylight out of you (again) but also handle you like a butterfly with a broken wing.

“Just a bit worn out, pretty boy.” Said with a dreamy little laugh. And Satoru would chase your voice into the clouds if he could.

He drapes your arms around his neck and you’re putty in his hands.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He grazes the corner of your lips with his. A dull, insistent ache welling between Shoko’s legs.

You’re irresistible like this.

“Unless you want us to wear you out, again.”

“Satoru!” Your tiny, ineffectual fists slam against Satoru’s pecs. Making the trio even more fond of you.

Their muse.

“Alright boys, I can take it from here.”

Unhurried but finite, Shoko shoos her best friends out of the bathroom. Not before Satoru can steal one last kiss from your swollen lips.

In a matter of minutes Shoko is settled in a sea of warm, eucalyptus bubbles. The light sheen of essential oil grazing her skin, still glimmering with remnants of love-making.

Her eyes ride the dips and swells of your alluring lines.

Balmy skin decorated with lust-drunk imprints from Satoru, Suguru and herself. Hand prints. Tiny crescent moons from fingernails. Ellipses of bite marks. A kaleidoscope of red, blue, deep purple. Living, breathing residue of the desperation — the need — you so easily draw from them.

“Such a pretty girl.”

You flush under Shoko’s praise. Newly stroked desire bubbling in the back of her throat. You’re so full of averted gazes and warmed cheeks. Twiddling your thumbs. Tentatively shifting a few paces away from the bathtub.

So shy, now. It’s adorable.

“Come here, baby.” Shoko curls her fingers inward.

“Okay.” Your response high and thin. Feet moving without resistance.

Obedient little doll.

Shoko’s wet dreams couldn’t even come up with a vision this decadent. You’re an oil painting. Soft on the hands, even softer on the eyes.

You nestle in the warm waters between Shokos legs. Her nipples pebble against your supple flesh. Resting the back of your head on her chest. A lock-in-key fit.

Comfortable, serene quiet sheaths the room around you. And Shoko is soaring.

“I like you like this.” She presses a small kiss against your temple.

“Like what?” You whisper.

Shoko’s hands travel up your navel, cupping your sensitive tits. You arch into her touch. Kitten mewls escape you. So responsive.

“Soft.” Your nipples stiffen between her thumb and index finger.

“Vulnerable…a little broken.” Shoko continues. Catching your needy gaze. Pupils blown to full moons. She hovers her lips over yours. Already parted, hanging open. Ready to receive.

“Shoko.”

Such a beautiful, pitiful little whine. Tilting your chin up, chasing Shoko’s lips. But she maintains the minimal distance. Instead, kneading your mounds. Drawing a gorgeous melody of whimpers; squirming beneath her ministrations.

“I like being the one to put your pieces back together,” Shoko teases, dropping her tone. And you draw her in like a moth to flame.

Shoko’s lips slot into yours with ease. Puzzle pieces meant to fit. She swipes her tongue over yours. Nibbles along your puffy bottom lip.

You’re delicious.

And panting, when Shoko finally pulls away. Aurora borealis in your eyes. Sparkling. Expansive.

And even though you are putty in her hands right now. Docile and pliant, hanging on every brush of a finger, every kiss. Shoko is falling.

Free falling.

Without a safety stop in sight.

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darklordofthesimp · 1 year

Text

Six Words (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Summary: After a mission goes wrong, you're tasked with keeping an injured Ghost safe from swarming insurgents. When you almost fail to save him, you realize your feelings towards him makes you a liability. Ghost disagrees.

Prompt: #61 "I don't know how to love you" From my prompt list here.

A/N: I need prompts, my head is empty with nothing but Konig and Ghost SOS.

Category: Angst - Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Swearing - Gun Violence - Themes of War

Missions were the hardest part.

The gunfire over comms, the callouts and the target indications. Every now and then you’d wince at the wounded cries of your colleagues, it was always the younger ones who screamed.

And although it was eery, you were glad to hear them. If they were crying it meant they were alive.

It was the silence that you were afraid of.

“Sunshine, this is Bravo-6. How copy?”

You blinked, flicking your gaze from your rifle’s scope. Car horns blared from the bustling city beneath you, unaware of the conflict happening 40 stories high.

“Bravo-6, this is Sunshine. Loud and clear, over.”

If Price was raising you, it meant that the fight would soon be moving into your arcs of fire. You settled in behind your rifle, resting your cheek against the stock. You’d already accounted for the distance and thankfully the wind was steady enough that adjusting your weapon sight hadn’t been difficult to calculate.

“Sunshine, you’ll have company soon, 42nd floor. Clear them out.”

“Copy that, Bravo-6.”

The windows had already been blown out, providing you the clearance to take your shots, so you waited, watching the elevator and stairs with your finger curled lightly against the trigger. However, when someone had finally come busting through the door, you hadn’t expected it to be Ghost.

Jesus. Ripping your finger off the trigger, your heart raced, its panicked beating echoing in your ears like a church bell.

You hissed a curse beneath your breath, what the fuck was he doing in the red zone? Bravo team was meant to herd them onto the 42nd floor so you could clear the board, not pay a house call with them.

“Ghost, what the fuck are you doing?” You snapped into your headset.

You watched him throw himself over a bench on the far side of floor, tucking his body behind it for cover. He turned his head to the window, presumably to where he knew you were nested.

“Shit’s gone sideways, change of plans. I’ll distract them, you shoot ‘em.” His voice was ragged and rougher than usual. Small groans were woven into his words and as you looked at him a little longer, you realized that he was pressing a hand to his stomach.

Ghost had been shot.

Your heart dropped.

“Incoming!” He shouted, twisting his body to face the bench rather than away from it.

You hissed, moving your sights to where they should have been- at the doors. Instantly, you realized there were too many of them, he hadn’t cut down as many as he should have and now it was a race against the clock. Kill them before they killed Ghost.

You got to work, falling into a frenzied rhythm. Spot and shoot, spot and shoot. You forced yourself to not check on your teammate huddled into the corner, to not see if he’d been turned to minced meat.

One by one, they fell. And one by one, anxiety had begun to claw its way through your chest. You had a sniper rifle, not an LMG, it was near impossible to clear this many people before they’d be able to reach him.

“Fuck! Fucking shoot, Sunshine!” Ghost roared through your comms. Your breath was unsteady now. One after the other they fell and one after the other they pushed towards the little bench Simon Riley was hiding behind.

You said nothing, unable to talk, unable to think, only able to shoot and shoot and shoot.

“I’m getting overrun here!”

You pushed your scope to view Ghost. There were four of them on him already and so many more pushing ahead. Your heart dropped as the sounds of your shots became hollower, the tell-tale signs of sound echoing through your mag, you were coming up on empty.

Then there was a dull click where there should have been a ‘bang’.

“Reloading!” You shrieked, dumping the mag and scrambling for a fresh one from your body armour. All the while you watched Ghost fight on the back foot, offense became defence and fluidity became manic.

He was going to die.

And it would be your fault.

“Covering!”

You held your breath.

Soap slid through the doorway, shooting before he’d even had a good look at the scene before him. He knew there was too many of them, he’d heard the radio chatter and he’d heard your panic.

You could have cried at the sight of him.

You finished reloading, repositioning yourself with a newfound hope fuelling your body. Between the three of you, the rest of the insurgents had been light work to clear out. It was a massacre, a sight that would traumatize most with bodies piling along the floor.

But all you could think of was Simon.

You heard his groans as Soap helped him to his feet, muttering comfort beneath his breath the way only Soap could. “Come on, LT. You’re pretty banged up, let’s get you home.”

As the adrenaline began to seep from your body, leaving you shaking and quiet, your mind began to spiral.

Nights spent on the roof, revelling in each other’s company but not saying a word. The short tit for tat banter that you’d fallen into. The drunken nights you’d sought each other out, to chase the nightmares with touches neither of you would remember in the morning.

You’d almost let him die.

Ghost straightened as best as he could, leaning against Soap as the Sergeant held him up. They both came to a stop by the window near the exit, the battered soldier pausing to gaze out across the buildings. And although you knew he couldn’t actually see you, it felt like he was looking straight at you.

“You did good, Sunshine.”

The words were genuine, almost soft if it weren’t the ragged breathing from his injury.

You bit your lip.

When you didn’t respond, the pair continued on, disappearing into the elevator and leaving you to suffer with your thoughts.

_______

The cold, night air always helped to clear your head.

You were sat on the rooftop, legs dangling off the edge of the building as though it were just a normal bench. Your chest rested against the railing; your arms folded over the top of it.

Your mind was a mess.

How had that mission gone so wrong, so fast? Logically, there wasn’t much more that you could have done. You were on the trigger constantly, a body dropped every two to three seconds, a good enough pace when you were constantly switching targets.

But you weren’t fast enough.

“You’re not gonna jump, are you?”

Your body jolted, gripping the railing tight with a gasp so you didn’t fall right off the edge. Ghost stood beside you, clad in a pair of soft black trousers and a hoodie that was drawn over his head. You swallowed your anxiety when he lowered himself to sit beside you.

You’d seen him without that jumper plenty of times, twisting against each other in the dark with alcohol on your tongues. But seeing him with it, seeing him look like any other man preparing for bed, made your heart soften.

“No.” You rasped, answering his quiet joke.

You both fell into silence, but it wasn’t comfortable like it usually was, at least not on your end. You were stressed, the tension rising in your chest to suffocate you. You forced your eyes to remain on the horizon, observing what you could under the moonlight.

There was a nudge by your hand and you glanced down. The man held out a cigarette and a lighter and you forced yourself not to look at the unlit one hanging from his mouth. It was an unwritten rule, when he rolled the mask above his lips to smoke, you would avert your gaze.

You took the cigarette with a sigh and a soft ‘thank you’, perching it between your lips. You lit the smoke, drawing the first drag to keep it alight and Ghost softly took the lighter from you.

“Didn’t know you were out of hospital,” you said, taking another draw. You blinked away the head-spin from the nicotine, feeling the stress melt from your shoulders.

“If you’d known you wouldn’t be up here,” he said simply. You clenched your jaw, hoping he wouldn’t push the subject. You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face, watching for any tell-tale sign to say that he was right.

But you just took another drag.

“You’re avoiding me,” Ghost finally said outright.

Your heart stuttered in your chest and you made an effort not to crush the cigarette between your fingers.

“I almost got you killed.”

The officer’s breath came out in a short huff, the equivalent of a laugh for the sullen character. “Don’t flatter yourself. We fucked up; you were on clean up.”

Your heart was racing now, but you knew what the problem was. You knew why you were beating yourself up over something that wasn’t really your fault. It was childish and it was immature and one day it might just get you both killed.

You’d become a liability. It was your duty to inform him.

“I’m going to apply for a transfer out of the 141.” Your sentence rang like the toll of a church bell, echoing between you. You couldn’t believe you’d finally said it but you’d known for a while.

“What?” Ghost shifted beside you, twisting his body to stare at you front on.

“I’m going to get someone killed-“

“Is this about today?” Ghost questioned and you risked a glance at him. His lips were curled in disbelief and he flicked the cigarette off the roof. He dragged his mask back over his mouth, but his eyes still flashed with incredulity. “Get the fuck over it, it wasn’t your fault.”

“It’s about you, Simon!” You snapped.

Ghost fell silent.

“I’m fucking compromised,” you stood to your feet, flinging your cigarette over the railing. The soldier followed in suit, towering over you instantly. “I can’t be in a situation like that again- what if I’d have failed? I couldn’t fucking breathe, I couldn’t think-“

His hand came to rest against your shoulder and your words guttered to a stop.

You peered up at him in surprise, meeting that dark gaze. For the longest time, you’d always thought Simon had dark eyes, the blackest you’d seen. The breath left your body when, on closer inspection, you realized they were fucking blue.

For a long moment neither of you said nothing, silenced by the sudden display of affection. There was no end goal, no reason for him to be touching you. No high to be chasing, no bullet to push you out of the way of.

He was trying to comfort you.

He took a sharp breath. “I know.”

You blinked at him, opening your mouth then closing it again. He’d understood. He knew what you were saying, he’d known all along because Simon had been fighting the same thoughts.

When his fingers tightened against your shoulder, your lip trembled.

You wanted to hold him. You wanted to see him.

You knew that you could do neither.

“I don’t know how to love you,” you whispered, “I don’t know how to feel like this and work with you. Watch you get shot at. Be the one to make sure you don’t die.”

Simon shrugged, his gaze never leaving your face, taking in your features as though committing it to memory. He had no words of affection to give you but you could feel it in the way his thumb rubbed against your skin ever so softly, a ghost of his touch.

“You’re smarter than me, Sunshine. You can figure it out too.” His words were careful, and you blinked up at him from where you’d hung your head.

You can figure it out too.

When he pulled his hand from your shoulder, you felt the cold of his absence. But his words had set a fire in your chest that kept you burning.

Six words from Simon Riley were enough to set your world ablaze.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 ghost #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

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vexwerewolf · 29 days

Note

Not the original asker, but how would you make NPC equivalents of PC mechs? Some stuff feels fairly intuitive, but there are some others that I'm less sure of/not sure how to do.

IPS-N

IPS-N mechs are probably the easiest, since there are many mechs that are close to being 1-to-1 NPC approximations of IPS-N mechs.

Blackbeard - One of the easiest, since the Berserker NPC is basically just a Blackbeard. It has the Chain Axe, it has the reckless speed and it has the inability to properly determine between friend and foe. It doesn't have the Blackbeard's enhanced Grapple shenanigans but those aren't really appropriate on an NPC mech anyway.

Caliban - Give an Assassin the Devil's Cough Shotgun and Explosive Knives.

Drake - Take the Bastion, increase its HP just a little, remove the Rotary Grenade Launcher and give it the Scourer's Thermal Lance, except make the Thermal Lance do Kinetic damage instead of Energy.

Lancaster - Another easy one. The Support NPC is just a slightly slower Lancaster. It has a Latch Drone, it has Restock Drones, it has Whitewash, it's got all the fun stuff.

Nelson - Yet another easy one. The Cataphract does pretty much exactly what the Nelson does, just with added trample.

Raleigh - This is much more difficult - so much so that for In Golden Flame, I created an entirely new NPC class, the Slinger, just to simulate it. If you don't have IGF, start with an Assault. Remove the Assault Rifle, Combat Knife and Hunker Down. Take the Drum Shotgun from the Goliath and call it a Hand Cannon. Give it the Archer's Impending Threat optional.

Tortuga - This one's fairly simple. Take a Sentinel, upscale it to Size 2, give it Punisher Ammunition and the Bombard's Siege Armor.

Vlad - Take a Berserker, give it the Nail Gun optional, and then give it the Bastion's Near-Threat Denial System.

Zheng - Take a Berserker, give it Juggernaut and Retribution, remove Aggression, remove the Chain Axe and replace it with the Demolisher's Demolition Hammer.

SSC

SSC mechs also have a lot of parallels, so it's pretty easy to model them.

Black Witch - Probably the hardest mech to model with existing NPCs. I created another whole new class, the Lodestone, just to simulate these guys.

Death's Head - Take a Sniper, cut the damage on its Anti-Material Rifle to 6/8/10, strip the Loading trait and permanently give it the effect of Deadmetal Rounds (shots become Line 20 instead of Range 25).

Dusk Wing - Literally just a Hornet.

Metalmark - Take an Assault and give it the Operator's Fade Generator.

Monarch - Depending on the exact flavour of Monarch you want, you can do two things. Either take a Rainmaker, scale it up to Size 2 and give it Atlas Missiles the Ace's Missile Swarm, or take an Ace, scale it up to Size 2 and give it Missile Swarm.

Mourning Cloak - Literally just a Specter.

Swallowtail - Literally just a Scout.

HORUS

HORUS mechs are where we need to get a little bit more inventive. This shit ain't natural boys.

Balor - Take a Hive, give it Electro-Nanite Cloud and the Berserker's Harpoon Cannon, then give it the Exotic template and choose Regenerator. Or, if you have No Room For A Wallflower, just use the Lurker NPC.

Goblin - It's a Witch.

Gorgon - Take a Sentinel, scale it up to Size 2 and give it the Archer's Impending Threat and Suppress reactions.

Hydra - There's not really an NPC that simulates a mech deploying 800 drones and honestly that's probably for the best.

Manticore - Give a Berserker the Superhot optional, the Cataphract's Capacitor Discharge, the Sentinel's Combat Shotgun and the Operator's Self-Erasure.

Pegasus - Do not attempt to simulate me, ha ha.

Harrison Armory

Home stretch here.

Barbarossa - Take a Goliath, give it the Ultra's Short-Cycle Lance or the Bombard's Bombard Cannon.

Genghis - Literally just a Pyro.

Iskander - This is just a Seeder.

Napoleon - Why does this mech exist

Saladin - Scale up an Aegis to Size 2.

Sherman - Take a Scourer and give it Emergency Vent.

Tokugawa - Take a Berserker and give it Superhot. Make its Chain Axe do Energy instead of Kinetic, and instead of Shredding on crit, make it do a couple of Burn damage.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #mecha #mechs #lancer npcs

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petsdenonne · 11 months

Note

hi!! may i request some arkham knight jason smut with a lot of oral? 👀

Should’ve listened

Pairing: ArkhamKnight!Jason x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Gun against jaw (for a second in a non-sexual scene), Oral, brief mention of church, semi-public sex.

Word Count: 1,426

Summary: After zoning out at a bad time, you come to learn that maybe it isn’t bad after all.

Authors note: oh my god, I forgot how feral I am for AK!Jason, like ugh, I went down a little rabbit hole of research to refresh my brain after writing so much RH!Jason and I’m sure glad I did. Thank you, Anon 💕 Gonna have to play Batman: Arkham knight again even though I’ve already finished it.

✨MASTERLISTS✨

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

Your breathing faltered as the air got caught in your throat at the sight of him, your heartbeat ringing loudly in your ears. You had heard others talking about him, and you’d seen photos and videos in the media, but none of them had quite done him any sort of justice.

You couldn’t even see his face, it being covered by a full helmet with bat ears and an LED panel front, yet you were still intrigued.

The way he walked and carried himself, the way his body language demanded respect, and how his voice came out all husky and modified through the modulator had a dampness forming in your underwear.

You shook your head a little to try to clear the thoughts swarming your mind, thoughts you definitely should not in any circumstances be thinking about the Arkham Knight-

“Did you just shake your head no?” His voice abruptly cut in.

Oh, shit.

Your head shake had been a lot stronger than you had intended for it to be, causing him to think that you were disagreeing with what he had been saying to the group of mercenaries present tonight, which you had zoned out of to focus on what his hands might feel like on your body, so you had no idea what you had even accidentally said no to.

“No”

“No? Are you sure?”

“Maybe?”

Scoffing he pushed past a couple of people to get to where you were standing in the back row, looming over you as he closed the gap between you intimidatingly.

“I said that I am going to hand-pick people present here for my personal squad tonight, and you thinking that you have a say of your own makes you target number one, you shaking your head no, thinking you have freewill means you’re stuck to my side tonight… Say no to me again, and I’m going to make you wish you don’t even have a head to shake next time. Am I clear?”

“Yes” You said under your breath, distracted by how close he was to you. If you were brave enough you could reach out and touch him, run your hands along the armoured plating on his chest.

“Excuse me? Speak up” You only registered what he had said as you felt the cold barrel of his gun press into the underside of your jaw, the metal digging into your skin a little bit.

“Yes” You repeated, this time a lot louder “Yes, you are clear.”

—-------------

Oh, of course, the one day you mess up and get forced to stick to Arkham Knight’s side is the one where he decides he is going to stand on a random Gotham rooftop and overlook the city.

You’d never really been that fond of heights, not since you’d fallen off that wall at school and broken your left arm in three places. This must have been God’s way of punishing you for not going to church since you’d flown the nest.

To your right, you could see him in your peripheral setting up some sort of equipment quickly and gracefully like he had done it a thousand times before, which you realised he probably had when you turned to look at what it was and saw that it was a sniper tripod. His fingers worked smoothly to set up the rifle and attach it to the joint. As a bone-biting breeze blew through you, you began to rub your arms a little to try to generate some sort of warmth, walking over to where he was working as you began to feel a little dizzy from how close you were to the edge, you really didn’t need to be fainting and going over.

The thought made you dry heave a little which caused him to stop working momentarily. His hands paused as if he was listening to see if you were going to throw up.

“Sit” He instructed bluntly as his hands again began to move, a small tut under his breath as one of the parts didn’t quite click in as it should.

Blinking a couple of times you stayed standing for a few seconds before you immediately began to move so your arse was on the asphalt as he turned to look at you, even though you weren’t able to see his eyes you could feel them burning into you.

“Good” a small huff sounded through his modulator “Now stay there. I don’t have time to scrape you off of the pavement”

You don’t know why you did it, but you scoffed at that statement. As soon as it left your mouth you could feel the air around you tense up, oh shit.

“Excuse me?” Standing up, he walked over so that he was towering over you. Making you feel like an ant against him, the flickering LED display of his helmet causing a sense of unease to burrow deep into your gut “Up. Now. Get over there.”

—--------

You knew the Arkham Knight liked to punish those who went against him, liked to torture them until they were so out of it that even prayers and begging wouldn’t pass their lips anymore, because they knew they were already in hell.

When he told you to get up and move you were convinced you were about to go over the edge of the roof, he said he didn’t want to scrape you off of the pavement, but that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t cause the mess himself. You hadn’t ever pictured his punishments as…this.

The cold night’s air that had been cutting at your face earlier on was now cutting at your bare arse and pussy, soothing the aching handprint now present on your behind, the firm smack noise and burning sting making you aware that the handprint was now a pair. His fingers lightly rubbed against the growing welt to soothe it a little before tracing down the back of your thigh as he knelt down behind you, making you bend further over the air conditioning unit that was currently supporting your body weight.

“Keep your head forward” He demanded, not wanting to piss him off more you obeyed, keeping your eyes locked on the city view as you heard his helmet release and slide off of his head, there was a slight heavy noise as he placed it down- fuck.

Holy shit.

Your focus was interrupted by the feeling of his tongue gliding through your folds, teasingly skipping over your clit as he went. You could feel him gripping onto your thighs as he repeated the path a couple of times before he finally focused in on the bundle of nerves. Closing his lips around it he began to suck, gently at first but quickly growing in force. A whimper-like moan left your lips, causing him to spank you again “Shut up.”

Without his helmet on you could hear his voice for what it actually was. Liquid gold.

A thick Gotham accent with a husky tone to it, you didn’t really care for the specifics of his voice too much, you just know it added to the growing pressure in your stomach.

Whilst you had been distracted by what he sounded like he had decided that he was done being soft, and was now going to eat you like a starved man.

His tongue lapped at your wetness before pushing deep into you, his calloused thumb moving to circle your clit to help you reach your peak faster. Hard breathy moans vibrated into your pussy as he went, causing you to moan louder than before, but this time he didn’t silence you. Because this time he would be a hypocrite.

As you tilted your head down slightly to try to not lose yourself you could see that he had unbuckled his trousers and the tact straps that usually kept his pistols on his thighs so he could pull his trousers and boxers down to his knees, his hard cock currently trapped in his tight fist as he pumped in time with his tongue moving in and out of you.

The sight made you hit your high, releasing over his mouth and chin as you let out a strangled groan, after a few short moments you’d hear a similar noise but deeper, more masculine, before the asphalt where he was kneeling was glazed in his own spend.

“I think you should be a brat more often, Doll” He said as he kissed your inner thighs.

His boyish cocky grin would be ingrained in your brain until you died.

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#dc #jason todd #red hood #arkham knight jason #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood smut #arkham knight x reader

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

Note

Hi! I hope you're well.

I have a request that may not be achievable and thats okay! Really, its just a thought.

What if the reader is a new recruit to the team and has the nickname 'Reaper' due to her skull Balaclava and skill (https://www.tumblr.com/men-wearing-masks/652072573328392192/skull-mask-week-day-47?source=share) from her other teams.

They're mainly a sniper but are amazing at everything. They're smaller than the rest of the team (I'm picturing an afab) but they're silent and bring death with them.

For example; Ghost is noticeable by his naturally intimidating presence but Reaper cannot be noticed unless you're actually looking for them, and when they pass, it feels as if a cold shiver has gone down your spine.

I picture this being a Ghost x reader because they're just as good as ghost, if not better, and everyone teases him about that. Making jokes about how reader is on top because a Reaper is higher up the chain than a ghost. Then I feel like on a mission reader gets sick of it, but in an attempt to be 'part of the team' they make a joke that's sexual in nature about her being on top which just sets ghost off.

If you don't do anything with this, totally understand, hope this wasn't just a silly rant though 'xD

Much love,

🔳

ok, sorry this took me so long to respond to I was trying to flesh it out but I hope it fits what you imagined

warnings: typical violence, death

“Hostiles are taken care of, you’re clear for entry” You call it in through your comms, you’re sat high on a hill, hidden from view by the dark as the team infiltrates.

“Copy Reaper, moving in”

You walk as Ghost and Soap make their way into the building, changing your sight to check in on windows.

“I’ve got eyes on two, south east window”

No response

“Alpha team I’ve got eyes on two, how copy?”

The comms are silent, you don’t think you just move, sprinting down the hill before you’re in front of the target building, you can hear the echoes of gunshots.

“Soap I’m at the entrance, what’s going on in there”

You hear someone inside yell, deciding to rush in to cover, you make your way through the rooms, clearing them before heading up the stairs to follow the noise. You see muzzle flashes at the end of the hallway, you slowly make your way down before turning into a room, Soaps backed against a wall struggling with one of the men, you raise your gun to fire but your arms are quickly pushed away,

“Reaper, on your left”

You struggle against the man in front of you, using your foot you kick at his knee knocking him down, your knife raising to plant in his neck before you pull it out, throwing it across the room, it lands in the shoulder of the man strangling Soap, he screams in pain and Soap is able to push him off to kill him.

“Thanks”

You nod your head, “Where’s Ghost?”

“We split down a hallway, comms went dead a few seconds after”

“Why do these always turn into rescue missions”

“Maybe he likes being saves by you”

You roll your eyes at him, picking up your gun and advancing around the building, there’s no sign of Ghost in the rooms.

“Stay inside, I’ll search the perimeter” You say

“Stick to the shadows” Soap winks

You make your way outside, creeping around the dark spots of the yard as you slice through the few remaining hostiles, you come across Ghost in the garage, he’s focused on some computer as you approach.

“Thought you went missing”

Your presence surprises him,

“Clear the building?”

“No thanks to you”

“I did my part” He gestures towards the two dead men on the opposite side of the room, “Got what we came for, let’s go”

You meet back up with Soap at the front of the house, making your way to the rendezvous point,

"You better thank your God that Reaper was here to save your ass LT"

"I was fine"

"Not counting the hostiles swarming you" You jump in

Ghost glares at you as the three of you make your way onto the heli for evac. Arriving back at base Ghost is practically silent, sparing you few words during your ride while Soap talks your ear off, there's something off about Ghost but you can't place it, you decide to leave it be.

The base is bustling when you arrive, people running everywhere, your attention being drawn all around until Price shouts for you,

"Reaper, need you on the next car out"

"Just me Sir?"

"Just you, need the best" He nudges your shoulder, you turn to see Ghost standing behind you, fists clenched at his side,

"You've got competition LT" Soap jokes running past you, Ghost walks away without a word, leaving you standing alone.

Your mission was a success, in and out, just you with Price covering from the sky. You managed to clear the building without being detected, sticking to the shadows as you dropped hostiles one by one.

Your muscles ached arriving back, simply wanting to shower and sleep except Soap had forced you invited you to join the team for a drink, figuring it was an easy way to fit into the team you accepted.

The team was already a few drinks down when you arrived, Ghost catching your attention as he sat in the corner, leaned back in his chair.

"There ya are" Soap shouts from across the pub, hollering you over to their table, you sit and he hands you a beer, you feel the cool glass against your warm palm, eyes darting around the room.

"So is there something about the masks that the rest of us don't get?" Soap asked, pointing between you and Ghost, you tilt your head in question,

"No, no correlation"

"Just coincidence?"

"Just coincidence" You nod

"Well just seems that LT's been knocked down a peg since you showed up, no longer the scary lad in a mask compared to you"

You glare to your side, you can see how Ghost's face contorts under his mask, fumes practically coming from his face,

"Ghost is just as good as me"

"Ghost can't do what you can believe me," Soap laughs, taking another sip of his drink

"That'll do Johnny" His voice booms in your ears,

"You think you're better than me Ghost?" You say, suddenly filled with courage, he doesn't afford you a response, he simply stares back at your masked face.

"You do" Your words are cut off by Johnny

"Is it that mask?" He turns to Ghost,

"What?"

"S'that why you're always buggin' Reaper, you like them, some sort of mask kink?"

Your eyes go wide at his words, your chest suddenly feeling tight,

"You like a strong woman LT?" Soap laughs

Ghost's next movements are quick, he stands from the table practically knocking over everyone's drinks before his hands are at Soap's throat, Price jumps to pull him off but it's no use.

"Keep your fuckin mouth closed Sargeant"

Soap sobers up instantly, nodding under Ghost's grip before being released, there are murmurs around the pub as Ghost exits, the air is thick with tension.

The rest of the night was quiet, the men keeping their jokes to themselves out of fear of Ghost somehow hearing. The next day on base was even more awkward, strange tension between the team had unfolded as Ghost barely spoke a word to anyone all day.

A few hours later you make your way to the gym, completely surprised to see the Lieutenant there you eye him as you enter, setting up on the large mat in the centre of the room.

You watch as he moves to stand in front of you, his stare pinning you down,

"Ready?" He asks, you nod before lunging at him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you dig your feet into the mat trying to push him backward.

You grapple for a few minutes, both of you refusing to tap out, intent on proving you are better than the other, you manage to trip him and he falls with his back flat on the mat. Your legs move to straddle over his torso, your arms pinning him down as you cover his form, your heavy breaths filling the air.

"Guess I really am on top" You laugh

Without a second thought, he thrusts his hips, throwing you off him so he can flip your form, pinning you against the mat, you're caged under his form as he pins you flat, there's no chance of getting out. You writhe against his grip but he doesn't falter, simply staring you down,

"Give up?"

"Not a chance" You continue to struggle against his grip,

"You're just gonna tire yourself out"

"Using weight against your opponent is cheating"

"It's smart, you're small but quick, and I'm more than double your size"

"Get off" You huff

"Tap out"

"Admit I'm better than you"

He laughs at your words, releasing his grip before standing, he lets you get up, your hands rubbing at your wrists as you move across the room, you turn around and he's in front of you. He forces you back his strides pushing you back until you collide with the wall, you tilt your head from him, his mouth inches from your ear, you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin.

"You may be better in the field" He pulls back to face you, his dark eyes glued to yours as your body stands still, "But I'm always on top" You can see his smirk under his mask as he leaves, you're frozen in your spot, his words replaying in your head.

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diejager · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Cw: none in this chapter.

Series masterlist

Laswell had informed their Task Force after the briefing that a newly appointed sergeant, both she and Price had specifically chosen them, picked them from the mass of qualified and unqualified soldiers in the SAS to join the Special ops Task Force 141. It had taken Laswell a few days to have the transfer approved by Lieutenant General Shepherd; which he did.

They had a week to prepare for their arrival and the mystery sergeant that they would share barracks and bunks with them. Soap had droned about their gender, their name, their callsign - Winter, Price told them when he searched for them in the Mess Hall - and their personality. Gaz and Roach both shared his excitement, remembering that the last time that someone new joined them - Roach - was a few years or so.

They seemed like young high school girls gushing about a cute boy or a pretty girl they saw walking down the hall, so much excitement and mirth.

When the time came, Soap had forced Ghost to meet them at the landing site, wanting to be the first team in the base to greet their new member. Ghost grumbled behind the trio, a brooding figure following his brothers. He was guarded, eyes glazed over with wariness as he waited behind the 141 once Price met up before the aircraft landed.

Time seemed to stretch as they watched it land, engines stopped before the cargo door opened slowly. Ghost could hear a low thank you with steady steps echoing around the hatch, his mind swam with everything he had read about them - her, you.

Ghost had asked Price for your file, wanting to know who he would have to meet and work with, suspicion and alert for any dangers that you would bring. He remembers reading it over and over again days prior to your arrival, committing every little piece of information to his mind. Your name was (Name) (L/N) - callsign Winter - a woman with a long list of successful deployments as a sniper and infiltration specialist, both things he saw worth in; however, the added note of combat medic made your skills twice as important.

None of them were well versed in medical care, finding the knowledge of basic care enough to push past the dangers of bullets and grenades. If you were as skilled as your file implied, Ghost would be able to stop worrying so much about Soap or Roach getting hurt by acting recklessly - something they seemed to be prone to.

You approached them with such ease, light on your feet even with a tactical vest being weighted over by a duffle bag, black and in pristine condition. You turned to wave at the pilots and whoever had accompanied you one last time, walking until you were faced with Price. The tilt and smile you gave was innocent, taking the hand Price gave you and shaking it firmly, still smiling.

"It's nice to see you again, Captain," you spoke with respect.

Your voice was soft - perhaps too gentle for a battle-scarred and hardened soldier in the SAS - and would be easily missed between hardy men.

"Winter, welcome, " he returned with a nod, a smile hidden under his thick mustache and wrinkled eyes squinted in recognizable joy. "Meet the team."

He moved, facing his Task Force with his head held high - pride, Ghost could tell he felt proud of his little, dysfunctional family - and let them greet you. "Soap and Gaz," his head cocked towards the smiling men, the Scot and Brit fighting the urge to swarm you with a warm welcome.

Soap, the Scottish, SAS sergeant, shook your hand, feeling the significant difference in size between you both. He dwarfed you by a head, standing sharp and tall with the same boyish smirk and boisterous personality that drew people in: "Soap MacTavish, nice t'meet ya, Winter."

Gaz, the olive-skinned man followed after Soap, voice silky soft with his softer British accent than Price. He shook your hand with a similarly boyish smile, shorter than Soap, but still standing over you. He shook your hand with more finesse, gentler than his brother:

"Gaz Garrick, a pleasure, Winter."

A masked man with gentle, caring green eyes stepped into the place Soap and Gaz were previously in, gloved hands moving in swift gestures. He was signing to you, perhaps he was mute or simply preferred signing over talking.

"Roach, he signs," Price cautioned you, watching your reaction to the young sergeant.

They all were, wanting to gauge your expression at the news that one of your new teammates would use BSL. Although most knew the basics, complicated words being a bit more complicated to learn, they wanted to know whether you'd ridicule Roach for his choice or do nothing of it. It was the kind of protection that grew within the team, a family protects their own.

Your head tilted right, eyes wide as a smile stretched your cheeks, you raised your own hands and greeted the mute sergeant, Hi Roach, it's nice to meet you. He practically beamed, hands moving to shape each letter in a quick sequence, matching the pace of your sign, somehow too quick for the rest of the team to catch. You know BSL, I haven't seen anyone with fluent BSL in a while, his mask wrinkled with the smile that spread over his lips.

I have a friend who was born mute, learned it to talk to her.

They watched your silent conversation, understanding a few snips here and there, but the rest seemed to pass on quickly. Now, they knew you'd do fine with Roach, both being so fluent in BSL (Ghost doesn't remember finding any notion of your language skills in your file, perhaps some information was withheld by you or someone, or you hadn't bothered telling anyone of your fluency since most soldiers spoke fine with their rumbling voices).

After he pulled away, the last member left was Ghost, his tall, towering figure that stood over you like an impenetrable wall of muscle. He was silent, eerily so that you'd beat that most privates on base would shit their pants if they met him.

"Ghost," were his only words, a curt nod and a glare before he left, his back so broad that the shadow he cast on the cemented ground stretched on and on like a beast in hiding. His voice was deep and gravy when he spoke his name, his callsign was like the summons of a demon, a Ghost.

"Don't mind him, L.T's like that ta everyone. He'll warm up to ya," Soap promised, strutting to your side, and slinging an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer to him. "How 'bout I show ya round? You'll be bunkin' with Roach, that fine with ya?"

Roach reaffirmed his testament when you turned to him, asking him if it were alright with him, having to share his barrack when he'd been sleeping alone for a while.

I'm fine, I'll finally have a roommate to brag about, his shoulders shook with a muddled chuckle.

Tag list (reply here if you want to be tagged): @lauraliisa @iirosietumbles @thefairybird @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @tayaisback @deadpoetsandhoney @ghost-reine @raidenmylove @sollucifer @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @mandythemint @static-knight @suzuyamitsuki @rk111 @shuttlelauncher81 @discowizard88 @v1naco @imjustabebeh2003 @tbrfic @hotchlover @mstosi

#x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost fanfiction #ghost call of duty #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #soap mw2 #mw2 x reader #gaz mw2 #price mw2 #task force 141

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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tempest-toss · 2 years

Note

🖼️ any parents amongst you?

[Assuming "You" means the council s a collective, so One will answer]

"What an odd question to ask. But nonetheless, I shall provide an answer. I have no more parents connected to me. I know they're both alive but for all they know I've been dead for at least 15 years.

I think Three has a father still, he mentioned getting a letter from one a while back.

Five's are obviously dead. She was the one caught in the time anomaly, not them, so they've been dead for over 500 years.

Six was the only egg found in the nest. Since no other Glyocklen has been seen before, during, or after the birth, I can assume they're gone.

Seven is in a similar boat as myself, and the same could be said for Eight, Eleven and Thirteen

Two, Four, and Nine are colleagues who don't divulge much about themselves, and especially not to me. If I make a guess based on their physical age, then I would assume Two and Four's are dead, while Nine still has at least one.

Ten has both parents alive, but due to their toxicity and otherwise abusive attitudes towards both himself and his sister, he wants absolutely nothing to do with them.

Twelve had parents, but they are both now dead.

Hopefully this was adequate enough, Grey Face"

-- One, "The Archivist"

#Archivist #Western #Noble #Werewolf #Child #Dragon #Sleeper Agent #Quiet #Alchemist #Gamer #Commander #Swarm #Sniper #One #Two #Three #Four #Five #Six #Seven #Eight #Nine #Ten #Eleven #Twelve #Thirteen

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tragedyslut · 17 days

Text

♡ dad, would you wash my back this once? ♡

✶ [ j.miller ] ✶

♡ FATHER!JOELMILLER X FEM!TEEN!READER ♡

🩷 SUMMARY — he abandoned you for ellie, you thought youd never forgive him. alt timeline<3 intentional lowercase, no proofreading 🪽

your father joel miller was a vain man. after the loss of Sarah, he wasn't the same. which, was an obvious thing. having the last name miller gave you a 'higherachy'. people respected you. but the name didn't mean anything to you.

not anymore.

after ellie came around, joel was never there for you. even less than he used to be. the memories of before the apocalypse swarmed your brain. in some ways, you were jealous of ellie. she got the father figure you never did.

in other ways, you were worried for her. you were only 2 years older than her, 16.

joel had his third chance. you hoped that he wouldn't fuck things up like he did with you.

you still lived in jackson, in you and joels house. you would sleep in his old bed whenever you missed him.

you two had left the quarantine zone with and met Ellie. then, you three resided in jackson for a while. Joel promised that he would deliver ellie to the fireflies and be done with it.

but he broke that promise. he left with her in the middle of the night, only telling Tommy that he was taking ellie to a lab in Colorado.

well, to make a long story short, ellie died in that lab. you knew joel would never forgive himself, and apart of you wanted that. he wanted him to feel as much pain as you did when he abandoned you for some girl he barely knew. you did feel bad that ellie was dead, obviously. it isn't her fault that your dads a prick.

after ellies death, joel returned to jackson. you had no idea he was coming, and when he came you just happened to be on guard duty. you were a sniper, thats what you were good at. and you hated being on the front lines with a pistol, it pissed you off.

though today you wished you had just taken the front lines. approaching the gates, was your father. he looked.. broken. upset, to say the least.

you sighed, putting your rifle to the side and hopping off the gated wall to to unlock the gate for him.

he saw you and immediately looked like he was going to cry. it had been months since you last saw each other. though, your stoic expression didn't falter as you simply locked the gate behind him.

" .. y/n. look. im sorry. " joel immediately tried to blurt out. you shot him daggers.

" you broke your promise. i don't care how sorry you are. " you said, trying not to burst into tears.

joel sighed, knowing he couldn't change what happened. he had found that out too many times. with sarah, then ellie, now you.

he went forward and hugged you, not caring if you tried to push him away. but to his surprise, and your own, you didn't.

" kid.. i know. i fucked up but- i want to make it up to you. i want to be here. " he mumbled, you just shook your head.

" you can be here. but i ain't your kid anymore. "

that night, you two were in joels old house for the first time in ages. it felt so right, but so wrong. you stayed in your room the rest of the day, sobbing. you didn't care that joel could hear you, the walls were that paper thin that he could always hear you moving even the slightest bit.

he stood just outside the door for ages, wanting to come in and comfort you.. but he couldn't. he knew that. you needed to come round yourself.

he spent that night cooking your favourite dinner. once he was done, he came and knocked on your door.

" .. y/n. uhm. i cooked dinner. you should come down and get some. "

he said loudly, but he didn't hear anything in response. he hesitantly stepped into the room, and saw you curled up in a ball. you had cried yourself to sleep. he couldn't stop himself, he immediately went over and took you into his arms. he held you so tight. he never thought he'd be able to do that again.

he held you for hours, the idea of dinner being long forgotten. when you woke up and felt him holding you, it only made you start crying again. but not out of pain or sadness, but relief.

" its okay baby girl.. ive got you. i promise. " he said, just glad to have you in his arms again.

that night, you couldn't sleep. you missed him. you had this horrible feeling that he would leave again in the middle of the night. so you got up, creeping into his room. you stood in his door way, until he teared his eyes open, staring at you.

" kiddo? you okay? " he mumbled, sitting up.

" dad- can i.. stay in here tonight.. just this once? " you whispered out.

he nodded, letting you climb into bed with him. he held you all night, just enjoying being back with his daughter. you both knew that this wouldn't be 'just this once', but in a way that was a good thing. you both wouldn't ever be apart again. he wasn't leaving.

#SoundCloud #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #joel x daughter!reader #joel miller #dad joel

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zoeykallus · 11 months

Note

aloha zoey! i hope you're doing well :) i am wondering if you're still taking requests, could you write something a little angsty with a happy ending with crosshair. maybe the jedi!reader and him were in a relationship before he joined the empire and it completely broke after it was revealed his chip was never removed. and so now they're trying to reconcile now that he's back? thank you so much ❤️

Aloha Anon!

I cooked something up for you 😊

Crosshair x Jedi!Reader Oneshot - What Are You Afraid Of?

Warnings: Angst/Fluff

______________________

The moment you part ways is so surreal, so devastating. Crosshair has left the team, switched sides, and in your last encounter, you barely escaped with your life.

You look back once more from a safe distance, seeing him in the distance with the other troopers as they swarm out, looking for you. Your heart is heavy, heavier than you could have ever imagined.

It's hard to accept what has happened, hard to understand that Crosshair is no longer your Crosshair. The realization that he has succumbed to his programming hits you like a slap in the face. There is nothing you can do but turn your back on him, stay away from him, if only for your own safety.

The thought that you have lost him is crushing, the feeling overwhelming. But you have to move on, adapt, you can't just give up everything because of it.

With the Bad Batch, you've been around for a while now, and Crosshair's split from the team has hit you all hard. But you hold yourselves together, holding each other up in unsettled, dangerous times.

You've all made your peace with the situation, one way or another. You haven't heard from Crosshair in a long time, so it's all the more surprising when you receive a coded message from him.

"It's probably a trap," Echo says seriously.

Hunter sighs softly, crosses his arms in front of his chest and nods, "Probably."

You say quietly, "But he asked us for help. What if he really needs that help?"

Wrecker agreed with you, "We have little choice but to take the risk. We can't ignore Crosshair."

Tech frowns and says, "We could, but would surely regret it sooner or later"

You look from one to the other, sensing the mood in the room, feeling how torn your teammates are. Your own feelings are far too wild, erratic and intense for a Jedi, but you can't help yourself. You still miss him, your grumpy sniper.

No matter what the mood, you know you will answer this call for help.

It's a strange feeling as the Marauder lands, perhaps because Tech makes a soft landing for a change. Even his flying style seems thoughtful today.

Your heart is still racing, you can't really control your emotions, outwardly you can, but inside there is an excited, yet anxious restlessness.

Suddenly, you feel Hunter's hand on your shoulder and hear him say, "Take a deep breath. We don't know what to expect, we need to keep a clear head, just in case. I know how much it would mean to you if Crosshair were to come back, but you can't let that get to you, none of us can."

Of course, he had noticed your restlessness, his senses were actually not unlike that of a Jedi, perhaps even superior in some situations.

"I know," you say softly with a nod.

As the ramp opens, and you can already see the tall, slender figure of Crosshair approaching in the distance, you still can't help it, your pulse racing, tingling in your nerve endings. For a moment, a vibration seems to go through the ship, a few objects suddenly float up into the air.

The men look around, startled, then you hear Hunter's gently admonishing voice say your name. You pull yourself together, the floating objects fall down again, here and there you hear a soft clatter or rumble. The vibration in the ship's walls stops.

"Sorry," you say meekly.

The figure comes closer, and it's clear, the way he moves, the stature, the posture, and last but not least, the modified, unmistakable sniper rifle on his back. This is undeniably Crosshair.

You open your mind, looking for other people in the area, but all you sense is the unease, the caution, the uncertainty Crosshair feels. Then his gaze seems to fall on you, and you feel a strong pull, a longing coming from him that you didn't expect.

Hunter says softly, "I can't sense anything other than Crosshair so far."

Tech adds, "Scanners show nothing so far either, just a small shuttle, presumably the one Crosshair landed here with"

You nod and say, "I don't sense any presence other than his and ours so far either"

Finally, Crosshair stops at the end of the ramp and one by one of you, come out of the Marauder, you wait until the end. Your steps are slow, deliberate, and you watch for any reaction from him.

He slowly removes his helmet, you see the scar where the chip had been before, look at the unfamiliar short cropped gray hair.

"You look different," you say softly.

Crosshair blinks and says, "You haven't changed at all."

What you feel is so intense, so much so, that you let the men talk among themselves first, discuss and work through unresolved issues, waiting for your moment.

Hunter and the others go back into the Marauder, it's a done deal, for now Crosshair is to travel with you again. Crosshair and you remain standing outside, no one complains or asks questions, the men know you both have your own thing to work out.

"It's good to see you again," he says quietly.

"Likewise," you say, searching his gaze and your feelers for what's going on inside him.

He's unusually nervous, something you haven't seen from him before, at least not like this.

"What are you so afraid of?" you ask curiously in a calm voice.

He blinks, gritting his teeth, he still hates it when you look through him so easily. But after a sigh, he admits, "That maybe you can't forgive me".

You smile softly, perhaps a little mischievously.

"So you care what I think?"

He looks at you seriously and grumbles, "I always did, you should know that."

"I'm not angry at you, never have been. Sad and angry about the situation, yes, but not necessarily at you," you say honestly.

He takes a deep breath, takes another step towards you, stands so close to you that you almost touch each other.

You state in an almost whisper, "You're still attracted to me."

Crosshair nods, you know his heart is up to his neck, but he seems perfectly calm on the outside.

"Is it still mutual?" he asks quietly.

You nod.

"It is."

You flinch, almost startled, as his hand reaches for your chin quite unexpectedly, his lips descending on yours. He kisses you, intensely, and you feel the longing behind it, the relief, the affection, the intensity of his personality.

His free hand has clawed into the fabric of your tunic, as if he fears you might pull away. One hand on your chin, the other on the fabric of your clothes, he holds you tight. But what really holds you captive in the kiss is all the emotion he's radiating at this moment.

There is also something deeper, the will to be close to you, to have you all to himself, that winds around and through all the other sensations of his, like a bond that holds you both tight.

When his lips break away from yours, you are both quite breathless. Your knees are soft and almost buckle away, but he pulls you back up, his hand still on your tunic.

He smirks, "My kisses are still blowing your mind, it seems."

You grin cheekily and say, "Don't flatter yourself."

Crosshair laughs softly, "Still a little feisty, are we?"

"As you said, I haven't changed a bit"

With a relieved sigh, he pulls you closer to him with both hands and engages you in another kiss, this time much more tender.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

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@starwarsnerd111

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x jedi reader #tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair tbb #crosshair x you #crosshair the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #star wars crosshair #bad batch #soft crosshair

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