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tsumtsumrry · 9 months

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Doctor's Orders

before i say anything else, huge thank you to @victoria-styles for the idea and inspiration, i really hope you enjoy.

WC: 2.8k

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, sexual content (fingering), extremely inappropriate relationship with gynecologist (just a work of fiction if your gyno starts to finger you please call the cops lol)

Your eyes and ears are completely tuned in to the sound of the clock ticking on the wall next to the big flat-screen TV. You obsessively check the time every couple of minutes in anxiety that your appointment will come sooner than you thought.

As soon as you made the appointment you regretted it. You’re an incredibly shy person, you keep to yourself and your two friends that you made in college who never strayed. And you know that it’s so dumb and so childish and irresponsible, but the mere idea of having to go to a place where a person sticks something up your parts is just too much for you.

Your fingers are starting to feel raw from picking at them and you tilt your head up to the ceiling and blow out a frustrated breath. You wish your anxiety didn’t make doing everyday, human things so difficult for you. It’s even worse that the only time you’ve come to the gynecologist, it’s for something you deem kind of embarrassing.

One day, you got home from work, exhausted and irritated, you got under the covers, imagined your favorite sexy scenario, waited for the sparks, and…nothing. Just nothing. It felt like you were trying to finish for hours and hours and you got nothing. And since then, nothing’s been able to do it for you. And for some anxiety-boggotten reason, you absolutely refuse to buy a sexy toy online or anything like that. Some crazy part of your mind thinks that the Amazon driver knows exactly what you would have in there and you can’t bear to see their face when they hand you your package.

So after a grueling couple of months, you finally caved, and here you are, at the gynecologist.

The sound of a door opening tears your attention away from the clock, and your heart immediately drops, a pit forming deep in your stomach. You almost want to squeeze your eyes shut and cross your fingers in hopes that your name isn’t called, but you’re in public, so you don’t. Instead, you hold your breath and look at the lady who just came out, praying that it isn’t you.

She calls your name. You release a breath.

“That’s me.” Your voice comes out shaky. She’s looking down at her tablet as you walk up to her but when she looks up, it’s like she notices your nervousness and gives you a sympathetic but encouraging smile.

She takes you back and sits you down in a chair, “just gonna take your vitals, honey.” Her voice is soothing, like a mother, and you’re glad she’s the person you’re interacting with before the doctor that you’re so scared about. You look around the room as she does her work and you notice, the place is decorated really nicely. As if it had a woman’s touch. You know that more than one doctor works here, but you wonder if yours is going to be a woman, honestly that would make you feel a little better.

She finishes rather quickly after asking you some questions about your medical history and things of the sort, and then her cadence changes, “Is it okay if I touch you?” She asks. You frown in confusion but nod. She places her hand on your arm and squeezes, “I know that this is your first time and I can tell that you’re really nervous, but trust me, Dr. Styles is the best we’ve got. He’s incredibly professional and kind, he’ll make you feel comfortable. And it’s better for you if you relax anyway.” She smiles gently, giving your arm one last squeeze before she picks up her stuff and walks towards the door.

Before she leaves, she turns around, leaning against the slightly ajar door, and shoots you a teasing smirk, “I’ll make sure to tell him to be extra gentle with you, dear.” And with that, she leaves. She’s sweet. And she definitely made you feel much better about the whole thing.

It’s only a couple minutes of just a little internal freaking out before the door opens and your senses are automatically overtaken with a waft of strong cologne.

“Alright…what do we have here…ah!” Your name falls perfectly from his lips, and an involuntary smile graces your face at his apparent goofy nature and the smile only grows when he grins back at you, dimples poking in his stubbly cheeks.

“How are you feeling today? Hannah told me you were looking a bit nervous before. Has any of that subsided or do I need to do some breathing exercises with you?” He quips brilliantly. I guess being a doctor he’s well aware that laughter is the best medicine.

“I’m doing okay, actually. Much better.” Your voice comes out soft, unable to get it any louder than that. He gives you an approving smile and then offers his hand out for you to shake it.

“M’name is Dr. Harry Styles. You can call me Harry, Dr. Styles, or Doc. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m personally fine with it all. I know your name already and…” he blows out a breath with his eyes comically wide “...basically your entire medical history so I think it’s safe to say we’re well acquainted!” You take his hand and shake it softly, a small giggle leaving your lips. You don’t miss the way he glances down at the contact. His hand feels nice. And you know it’s weird to be thinking that about your doctor, especially when that same hand will probably be somewhere near your genitals in the next couple of minutes, but his hand feels really nice against yours. Calloused and sturdy, yet gentle and soft.

You appreciate how he immediately got in tune with how cracking jokes made you more comfortable. It feels like extra effort to you and a warm feeling blooms in your chest at how attentive he is. You can tell that he cares about his patients and takes pride in his job, and it makes you feel so much more comfortable.

“Okay m’darling. Says you’re here for a regular check up. Are you sure there’s no concerns? Nothing we should be worryin’ about? S’more helpful if you tell me now so I know what to look for.” His hand goes out to motion you to lie down on the examination table. You oblige and he grins at you again, waiting for your response.

“Oh um…it’s nothing really just a very minor issue…” his eyes flick down to the movement of you fidgeting with your fingers and he presses his lips together and sighs, he looks up at you for permission before he takes your hands in his and starts to press them out with his.

“This is okay, yeah?” he questions softly, nodding along with you when you nod, “I absolutely need you to relax, darling. This’ll be so much easier if you’re relaxed and calm. Need you to loosen up. Do that for me?”

You nod and try your best to follow his instructions. Something about his hands on yours and his gentle voice filling your ears only makes it that much easier. And you have a feeling he knows that.

“There you go, honey. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better.”

“I just…ever since like a month ago, I haven’t really been able to um…finish. And ever since then I’ve barely been able to get turned on… or wet. Is that normal? Because I was fine before but all of a sudden I just…couldn’t anymore. It just feels like something might be wrong with me.” You let out a huge breath after you’ve finally revealed your problem. And as much as it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, it also terrifies you what his reaction is going to be.

He doesn’t even blink. You imagine he’s dealt with things like this before, and you’re not surprised that he has little to no reaction. It’s literally his job. You figure you shouldn’t have been this nervous to begin with.

“Don’t worry m’darling. We’ll figure it out.” he coos, his thumbs rubbing softly on your knuckles, “alright. Let’s get started shall we?”

You had already put your surgical gown on before he got here so all he has to do is lift the bottom up and get to business. And that’s exactly what he does. He puts his gloves on and lifts your gown on, his brows furrowed in concentration and his lips pursed in a cute pout.

He feels around, brushing his fingers through your folds. You jerk when his fingers brush your clit in a feather-light touch. He rolls his lips into his mouth briefly and you suddenly wish a hole would open right now and swallow you into the floor. You try not to, but you can’t stop ogling his concentrated face. He bites the inside of his cheek and squints his eyes slightly as he takes a closer look, “s’perfect, honey. Everything looks fine.”

“Gotta figure out what’s going on with you though, hm?” He looks you right in the eyes as he says it, his hand resting on your thigh dangerously close to your cunt and you nod quickly, taking deep breaths in as quietly as you can. Something about the way he’s looking at you, handling you, talking to you, it’s got your stomach warming, and your core tingling in a way that you’ve sorely missed. He’s touching you like he wants you.

He gently talks you through the speculum, using his hand rubbing softly on your thigh and his voice to calm you down. After he’s done he praises you softly and heat blooms in your chest.

“Still shy on me?” he teases, turning around. He starts to fiddle with his things on the desk, picking a bottle of lube and squeezing it on his finger. You immediately hold a breath. This is the part where he’ll actually be inside you. All words that you could have said in response to his teasing are immediately stolen from your lips, all you can do is wait there in anticipation as he gets himself ready for you.

“M’kay, darling”, he returns to you, placing his free hand on your thigh, “just gonna check on you. That okay?”

“Mhm.” You feel like an idiot, unable to speak to your literal doctor because for some reason he’s got you feeling things you haven’t felt in months.

“I’d prefer it if you used your words.”

“Yes, Dr. Styles.” You manage to get the words out and he offers you a proud grin. When he pulls your gown up again, he sucks in a breath, his pupils dilating. He looks back up at you and it’s like you can feel the condescension in his gaze before he even opens his mouth.

“Oh honey…nothing’s wrong with you.” He strokes his finger through your folds, eyes honed in on your cunt and a far-away look in his eyes as if he’s mesmerized by it. He presses his fingers at your entrance and you suck in a breath, “you’re okay, honey. S’okay.” He soothes you as he slowly slides his finger in. Both of your mouths part from the tight stretch. A soft puff of breath leaves his lips and a soft moan leaves yours.

The second the sound leaves your mouth, your cheeks flame in embarrassment, you whisper out a slew of apologies and he only shushes you. His thumb on his free hand stroking your thigh soothingly. His finger leaves you until it reaches the knuckle, then it pushes right back into you, ripping a sharp gasp from your throat.

“Shh shh. Just takin’ care of you like I’m supposed to.” He curls his finger up inside of you and a shaky moan leaves your throat. As soon as he hits that sensitive spot inside you, it’s like all of the orgasms you could’ve been having in the past few months come back to consume you tenfold. Your jaw hangs open as he starts to move his fingers faster, playing with you like a damn fiddle.

“How’s that feel, honey? Feels like you’re better already. Made such a mess and you’re already squeezing me so tight.” Every word that leaves his lips goes straight to your cunt, his husky deep voice releases a cage of butterflies in your stomach, and when he coaxes a second finger inside of you and adjusts his hand so his thumb rubs against your clit, it immediately feels as if you’re about to burst.

“Oh god—Dr. Styles.” You shriek out.

“Harry, honey. Say Harry. Say m’name while I’m making you cum.” He demands, his fingers fucking you harder and robbing the breath from your lungs. You manage to stutter out his name and an approving groan leaves his lips, “look at you, honey, following the doctor’s orders. Such a good girl.”

The warm feeling brews in your tummy before it starts to spread and bloom in your whole body. Your body tenses up to brace yourself for the intense amounts of pleasure you know you’re about to feel and a staccato of moans leaves your bitten lips.

“Don’t fight it, honey. Let yourself have it. You deserve this.” It’s amazing how he can expertly coax you through an expressively powerful climax with his words, he knows exactly what to say to you and what tone to say it in to make you putty in his hands, “know you’ve needed this for so long. S’been so hard, hm? Bet this pussy was aching without someone to take care of it. Let me take care of it, darling. Cum all over my fingers like I know you can.”

You can almost taste it, it climbs and it climbs, your stomach tensing and your thighs shaking, each firm rub against your g-spot makes you crumble and it swirls and sparks in your tummy. Light tremors turn into full-body shudders when the build-up of pleasure finally explodes like an earthquake. You moan brokenly, your voice cracking as you gasp for air and let yourself feel the pleasure you’ve been missing.

He talks you through it, leading you through the most powerful orgasm you think you’ve ever had. You instantly feel the tension leave your body with it. He takes away all the pent-up frustration and dissatisfaction with every word and movement of his hand.

It’s when he keeps going that it begins to border on the painful side of painful pleasure. That sexy concentrated look is back on his face as he pulses his fingers faster inside you with a second wind of determination.

A pained whine leaves your throat and your hand shoots out to grab his arm. You attempt to tug him away and squirm away from his touch, but he doesn’t relent. He uses his other hand to pin you down and your other hand shoots up to your mouth so the scream that you let out isn’t heard throughout the whole office.

“Take it. We’ve got to make sure you’re better. Cum again for me.” Your legs shake uncontrollably. You’ve never felt pleasure so intense that it hurts before, and it’s making you feel like your brain has liquified. You fully give in to him, your body submits and you let him play with your body exactly how he wants.

Before you know it, he’s driven you over the peak again. Your head falls back onto the exam table, thoroughly exhausted. He smiles gently at you, so innocent and nonchalant, as if he didn’t just completely ruin you on his fingers a minute before. His pointer finger brushes against your cheek before his hand cradles your face.

“You’re all better then, yeah?” His voice is soft and comforting, it fills your tummy with warmth, and you suddenly have the urge to let him talk to you sleep as he holds you right here on the exam table, “think you’re my new favorite patient.” He whispers with a smirk.

He lets you get up and shakily put back on your clothes. And in all honesty, you’re surprised you can walk right now.

He took such good care of you. You naturally feel indebted to him and you start to thank him but he just holds up his hand and stops you with an incredulous look on his face.

“No need to thank me, darling. Just doing my job.” He assures. “The only thanks I need is you coming back here next time you need my help.”

After all your stuff is packed and you’re walking towards the door of the exam room, his voice stops you. You turn around to face him and you’re met with his gorgeous face. He wears a gentle smile but teasing eyes. When he speaks you immediately know that his words have promise written between the lines.

“Drive safe, honey. M’looking forward to your next appointment.”

#harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine

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rileyslibrary · 11 months

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hii, i love your page, it’s so cute!! i was just wondering, can we have a fic where ghost/the 141 forgets the readers birthday?

tysm,

~ 💖.

A/N: Apologies for the delay, anon! Also, I hope that didn't happen to you, but if it did, happy belated birthday. Here’s your gift, I hope you like it.

———————————————————————

Type, type, type.

That’s all you’ve been doing since this morning.

Replying to emails, developing the recruits’ training programme for the next week, preparing reports, and going back and forth on that group chat with the engineering team about that stubborn drone that refuses to take off but is mandatory for the next mission.

They wished you a happy birthday. Yes, it was through a faceless and impersonal message, but at least they did.

Unlike him.

He’s been sitting across from you all day, doing the same—typing, typing, typing.

Not at the pace you’ve been going, though. He’s much slower compared to you.

His fingers hesitate as they hover across the keyboard, lacking the speed and confidence he usually has in the field. The keyboard feels foreign in his hands—it’s not an MP5, you see.

His eyes, trained for action, struggle to adjust to the screen in front of him. He types, pauses, looks up at the screen, and then resumes typing. Yet his posture remains rigid like he’s ready for action at any given moment.

“Do you need help?” you ask, noticing his struggle to find the right shortcut for copying and pasting.

“I need a cigarette,” he replies, standing up from his chair. He opens the window, turns his back to you, and lifts his mask halfway.

He opens the packet and bites down on the cigarette filter to extract it from the package. Tilting his head to the side, he lights it up and takes a deep inhale.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Shit.” He swears and shouts at the door to “wait a fucking minute.”

He extinguishes the cigarette, pulls down his mask, and returns to his desk. You wait for him to sit down before inviting the person outside to come in.

Two recruits currently assigned to your team enter the room.

“Happy birthday!” says one, and the other repeats the wishes more timidly.

You give them a warm smile and thank them.

Their eyes, however, often drift from you to him. They look like they regretted coming into the office. Like they’d rather be anywhere else but here.

You empathise with them—you, too, were scared of him when you first came to the base.

You decide to relieve them of their discomfort.

“There are cupcakes in the kitchen,” you say, “please help yourselves.”

You can’t tell if they are too excited about the cupcakes or relieved that they now have a reason to escape the trap they’ve gotten themselves into. With a nod, they quickly exit the room and shut the door behind them.

You turn to the computer screen and continue typing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You slightly turn your head towards him while keeping your eyes on the screen.

“Why didn’t I tell you what?”

“That the sky is blue,” he replies sarcastically. “That today’s your birthday, of course!”

“That’s not the kind of thing you go around telling people, Ghost,” you explain, “besides, you already knew.”

He stands up from his chair, and you turn to look at him.

“Why didn’t you remind me?”

“What should I say, Lt.?” You ask, “Hey, by the way, it’s my birthday today, in case you’ve forgotten?”

“Yes!” He insists, lifting his hands, “Yes, you should have told me that! Then you should have added a ‘you fucking idiot’ to complete the sentence.”

You look at him with furrowed eyebrows and a smirk.

He sighs and drops his hands to his sides.

“Come here,” he says, waving his hand for you to come closer.

You look at him, amused, and your smile widens. Yet you remain seated, and lean back to your chair.

“Come here!” He repeats and starts walking towards you.

You stand up, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, locking your arms to your sides. You hug his waist.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers and leans down, planting a kiss at the crown of your head.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” you reply, your words muffled against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, aren’t I?” He murmurs, his lips lingering against your head, “I’m sorry.”

You chuckle and push yourself away to look at him.

“No, you’re not,” you reply, “these things happen.”

He releases you from the hug but keeps his hands on your shoulders.

“Thanks for the cupcakes, by the way.”

“You had one?”

“Two,” he says, letting you go and returning to his desk, “but I didn’t know who they were from.”

You sit back in your chair and continue to type, type, type.

But this time, there’s a smile on your face.

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost cod mwii #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2

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milkzoro · 7 months

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i like to eat human flesh

-> zombie lu 🧟‍♂️ (fem!reader)

warnings: MDNI, smut, blood, sharp objects (knives), murder, luffy is zombie, riding, bondage, ‘feedings’, monster fucking, cream pie, knotting

summary: YOU LOCKED YOUR ZOMBIE BOYFRIEND UP IN YOUR BASEMENT, CAN YOU TRUST HIM NOT TO EAT YOU?

☆彡

you waited for the perfect time, you eyed the blond haired man for thirty minutes before deciding to make your move. trembling in your fingertips as the grip on your knife tightened. there was no time for error, it was now or never. feedings always had you feeling like this, the regret and second thoughts consumed your sorry mind. nothing else mattered to you once you remembered the predicament you were in.

the blond didn’t seem much trouble, he only sat there to chain smoke his cigarettes and chat with the pretty women that passed by. he was predictable, and you used that to your advantage. it was becoming later in the night, all traces of people disappeared, leaving only him behind. you then revealed yourself from the lurks of the shadows. a few deep breaths was all you needed to regain your confidence, you carefully made your way closer.

immediately he noticed your presence and started spewing flirty phrases at you. though, you couldn’t register any of his remarks, you could only just move.

he puffed his cigarette and smiled warmly. “hello gorgeous, mind if i-” you quickly raised your knife to his throat, cutting a line horizontally.

blood mist sprayed across face and you heard the thud of a grown man dropping to the floor, the ensemble shaking you to your core. ‘oh my… god? shit… gotta go. now.’

you rushed to bag the man and disposed of any possible evidence. luckily enough, you didn’t run into any witnesses on your commute back, your small house was only a couple more meters away. the mans stiff body weighed a thousand bricks as you dragged him along, you struggled but feeding your boyfriend was your only worry.

your poor baby, you hated doing this but you wanted to take care of him anyway that you could. the first week was the hardest for the both of you.

luffy had been feeling kind of off these past few days but he told you not to worry, he reassured you that it was probably just something he ate and that he had just a little stomach bug.

that wasn’t the case though, you still have no idea what exactly it was but his little ‘stomach bug’ turned out to be so much more life threatening. one afternoon you came home to him violently shaking and foaming at the mouth, he was hardly breathing. once your rushed to join him on the cold floor he stopped.. almost as if he was waiting to share his last breaths with you. he choked and cried as blood drained from his mouth, he was pleading for you.

“y/n- please… help me.” he stoped, every muscle in his body completely still and shut down.

you laid there with his blood staining your hands as you tried to tell him that he would be okay. hot tears never stopping to fall from your face, you held his dying body.

he somehow turned into a lifeless monster, skin cold and eyes blank, he was a zombie? you never thought it was possible it your lifetime but… luffy…

you couldn’t bear loosing your love, so you kept him.

currently he was tied up in tattered ropes but it always wasn’t that way.

his symptoms weren’t so bad in the beginning, but he started to show dark veins trickling up and down his body, he had also gone non verbal.

you tried everything. how was he dead one second, then up and moving the next? it was a confusing time.

you thought medication would solve your problems but that also didn’t work, he refused to take them. you aslo didn’t have access to pharmaceuticals so you tried advil and ibuprofen, it was a sad attempt but you hoped it would do something.

he began to get worse, he threw furniture and had groaning tantrums when you wouldn’t let him leave the house. he was getting stronger and more aggressive, it terrified you but there was no way in hell you’d give up now.

“luuuu..” you spoke quietly as you entered the room. your boyfriend looked so spent and defeated, his limbs were tied to the arms and legs of the chair but his head was tossed back as whines and breathy groans fled his mouth.

his head perked up at the sight of you, never once acknowledging the body you dragged along.

“baby please eat, you haven’t for the past few days, i’m trying everything… you didn’t like the animals i’ve brought you, please what is it you need.”

you pled with your eyes looking desperately into his own, hoping to get some sort of answer. you quickly realized talking wasn’t going to get you anywhere. your warm hand came to softly hold the side of his cold, decaying face. he closed his eyes and growled. with his reaction, it was easy to tell what he was wanting. he was reminding you so much of the old lu..

his eyes grazed every inch of your body as you saw him struggle in his restraints. he wanted you so bad but he didn’t know how to ask for it, he hoped you would get the hint from his motions.

he’s relearned simple words again from listening to you all day, you spent as much time as you could with him in your basement because you felt he would grow lonely without the presence of society. he’s only really learnt commands like, ‘no’ and ‘please’, but you’re grateful for how far he’s come.

it wasn’t until this moment that you knew what he needed, your touch. the way he looked at you and how he would shuffle his hips up in the chair made you so sad. you’ve had him here, tied up, and he just wanted to touch himself, or rather, you.

‘no’. you shook your head. you couldn’t possibly think to fuck your zombie boyfriend. his icy hand all over you, his pretty lips, the way his cock stimulated you perfectly.. ‘no!’ but the thoughts made you curious and you missed the touch of your sweet boyfriend. seeing him needy and somewhat obedient again drove you insane.

it was almost like it really was him, the tender look in his pale eyes made you emotional.

“luffy~ hi babes.” you touched his icy skin, all fear leaving your body seeing him act so delicate.

“so.. you’re not hungry lu?” you gestured to the brown sack bag in the corner of the room with blood patches staining the outside. he shook his head quickly, low growls muttering through his chapped lips.

“and you’re not gonna bite me if i touch you? right baby?” you kneel down before him feeling up the length of his jeans, playing with the stubborn buttons and zips.

a deep hunger like moan rippled in the room, he moved his hips up again but you removed your hands.

“say something lu- you’re not going to hurt me, right?”

he couldn’t formulate proper words with some of his vocal cords mutilated but you could understand him most of the time. the vibrato in his voice dragged along.

“mmHghhhhgahHh y-y/naahGghhAgg-”

he nodded his head to agree to your previous question, growls and snarls accompanying his eager movements. his moans were like no other, he truly was a monster. though, you couldn’t help but fall apart at the sounds of hearing him call out your name again.

luffy looked so innocent tied up in his ropes, you wanted to take care of him. if he wasn’t gonna eat, you could at least help him feel good. the growing knot in your stomach also wanted to please your helpless zombie boyfriend.

“fuck it.” you muttered. “let me help you luffy, gonna take these off okay?”

you played with the buttons of his pants, struggling to get them off. the nerves mixed with anticipation made you tremble. you haven’t touched your boyfriend in a few weeks, though it truly felt like an eternity.

luffy couldn’t wait either, and it showed when you saw many wet spots decorating his gray boxers.

a gasp escaped your lips as you saw the sheer width of him through the thin fabric. you were unsure if it was some sort of zombified mutation or if it was his pent up frustration, but he was thick.

he was moving more and more at the slightest touches from you but the ropes held his top half relatively still, his whines growing restless. luffy was trying to let you know that he needed you now, he prayed that you understood his intentions.

you finally got his boxers off and your eyes widened, your panties collecting moisture at the sight of him.

his fat, curved cock sprung up with such elasticity, he smacked hard against his torso. he looked so beautiful. so wide and leaky, his tip was black as night fading all the way down to his ghostly pale base. it made you squirm, remembering that he was undead.

he growled again at you, he was becoming more vocal as to say, ‘hurry up’.

hearing his deep moans made your tummy flutter, you rushed to undress yourself. the chill air of the basement made you shiver, you needed him to stretch you out.

you raised yourself onto his lap to line your entrance up carefully with his twitching cock, preparing to lower yourself down slowly.

his devious mind had other ideas, completely ignoring your preparations and fucking himself up to meet his thighs with your ass, bottoming out as he stretched your tight little hole.

“luffy!!!” you cried, you didn’t have the chance to adjust to his width, you sat there for a moment with your face hung in the crook of his neck, tears falling from your face.

it took quite some time but you thought you were ready to move. with tears still trickling, you began to rock your hips. the pain slowly turned into pleasure.

luffy’s thick cock stirred inside you, hitting more spots than from when he was human. you stretched so beautifully around him, making a mess all over his thighs. the combination of his harsh thrusts and semi-automatic dick rutting inside you had you slamming down hard on him, you couldn’t keep your eyes open. you were trapped.

with his arms still tied, he only hadso much to work with, his cock and his drooling mouth. he felt his orgasm coming with the sight of your pretty face finally comsumed with the pleasure of his monster dick. his balls so heavy from not being drained for several weeks, he needed to release in you.

he felt your tight muscles clench around the base of his cock, groaning deeply with you. his thick load ready to destroy your insides.

his devilish urges couldn’t escape, he needed to bite. with the mix of waves of pleasure and the loud whimpers foaming from your mouth, it only felt natural. he lowered his head to the crevasse of your neck as you bounced on his pulsing cock, riding out your orgasm. he sucked hard on your warm skin, wetnesses and drool dripping down your collarbone. the feeling making you dizzy and incoherent, you didn’t feel the pain until it was too late. his suckles formed into nibbles.

your moans quickly turned into yelps, you were still surrounding his heavy cock but almost immediately you recovered from your orgasm.

the taste of your sweet blood filled him, giving him more energy then ever. you felt his cock stiffen again inside of you. “l-luffy! what are you doing! stop it!!” you struggled to move, his cock thickening within your gummy walls.

he was knotted, his tip so large you couldn’t escape. with his mouth still attached, he fucked into you harder. the taste of your rich blood and the ecstasy of your perfect cunt, it felt as if he was alive again.

your screams where ignored as he used your pathetic little body, completely lust and blood drunk.

the mix of feelings confused you, the pleasure you felt in your core was other worldly, but was it worth being fed on? you began feeling lightheaded as he drained you of blood cells, you couldn’t separate from him and he didn’t stop. you went limp on his body, reality started to fade away..

you eventually woke up, the room was quiet and the chair was empty. ‘did he escape?’ panic started to settle in, how could you let this happen? you knew he was a threat!

shuffling footsteps was all you heard behind you, it was hard to move from all of your injuries but he was met with you soon enough.

all his teeth were on display as he smiled devilishly at you, darkened blood painted from his chin to his chest.

he limped closer to you, groans and growls echoing in the confinement of your cold basement.

“luffy- please, don’t do this!! baby!! it’s me!” you tried, as if a pathetic plea would stop such a monster..

*munch munch munch*

he eats you :3

if u like!!! pls lmk i love being praised 🙈

#one piece x reader #one piece smut #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy smut #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #one piece #monkey d. luffy #op luffy #monkey d luffy smut #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons

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takahas · 10 months

Text

Regrets - suguru geto

-> suguru's life flashes before him and reminisces the time he had with you.

It is the summer of Japan 2009, when suguru geto decides to leave jujutsu high.

He meets with shoko, who's taking a puff out of her cigarette as per usual, when he's already been branded as a traitor.

She treated him the same, as if he didn't just massacre a whole village and became a curse user, burst out shocked when he revealed his plans to her.

He was glad that shoko, his dear friend, met him with open arms, didn't question anything he didn't feel open to answer, she let him take his time. That was all that he could wish for.

Even his one and only best friend, satoru gojo, as much as he didn't want to, he did. He tried to talk to satoru face to face, tried to memorise the vulnerable look on satoru's face, his bright blue eyes and his shape jaw. He memorised satoru's kind and friendly expression that he knew the next time they met would end up cold and menacing. Although, he couldn't face satoru the whole time, he couldn't bear to (because he knew he regret his choices immediately)

He knew by leaving satoru like that he would be devastated, would feel as if geto had just torn his limbs off one by one and that almost made geto think twice.

But he knew, knew that he had to try, had to give it a chance and for once even if he had to leave everything behind and start anew, so he placed what he wanted above what satoru or you wanted or what anyone wanted in general.

And that's why he refused to say anything to you.

Days before he made his decision, he flinched away from your touches, refused to look at you in the eye during your usual sparings, refused to hold you. He saw it, the hurt flash in your eyes when he moved his hand back, your hand helplessly dangling in the air.

And that one time when he had been walking to his room back from practice, he had heard sniffles coming from your room. He knew, he knew it was him that caused you the pain. He knew everything.

He had wanted to barge in and hug you tight like he always did, when he uttered that he was never going to leave you deep in the nights when the both of you were huddled together under his blankets, clothes that were once worn now thrown onto the floor, the musky smell of sex feeling the air.

He squeezed you tighter and hugged you closer. Even when if he felt the discomfort of skin sticking to skin, the only thing he had on his mind was how much he loved you, how much he had wanted to stay by your side, how much he had just wanted to be yours in a normal life, not as jujutsu sorcerers.

And curse him for thinking this way as he covered haibara's dead body with nanami slumped in the corner, arm covering his eyes as he blamed himself for the boy's death. And that's when it had hit him that no, not in this life.

So he refused to let himself sink deeper in your warmth, refused to second think his choice, refused to see your lips spreading apart as you whispered to him how much you loved him, refused to see the tears spilling on your face (he knew he would cave in and kiss those tears away), refused to see you, feel you.

And that might be one of the things geto regrets as he sits slumping against the wall, right after his battle with the jujutsu high students.

He hears satoru's footsteps getting heavier and finally pausing, hearing satoru crouch down to face him. He tilts his head just a tiny bit, wincing at the pain that shoots through over that tiny action.

If satoru yelled at him, hit him, or even cursed him, he would have felt better, would have felt that everything he chose to do was worth it.

But as satoru gently smiled at him, eyes softening as he spoke to suguru, everything that he did hit him like a wave.

And suddenly, the only thing he could think about was you.

On nights when he felt lost, on nights when he debated going back, turning himself in, he would think of you.

He would think of how much he missed waking up to you, of your giggles, of the way you would have a habit of bitting the lips that he loved to kiss, of the way you would scrunch your eyebrows at satoru as you hid your smile, and of the way you would stare up at him with eyes full of love, as if no one compared to him and the only thing in your mind was suguru geto.

He had wanted to marry you, grow old with you, have kids with you, wake up by your side every day and hear the soft tone you always had that he could never get tired of whenever you called him 'suguru' (he could already tell from the warm pit in his stomach that you would be the death of him)

And suddenly, geto wishes he had bid you goodbye, that he had seen you one last time before he closes his eyes forever.

He smiles sourly to himself and resigns to his fate, until he hears familiar soft padding of footsteps.

He recognises those footsteps as ones that he had heard countless of times during his youth. The sounds continued on and grew increasingly louder until they were directly in front of him and black pristine shoes came into his view.

As you crouched down, the shoes were replaced with the image of your face, your hair having grown from last time and your features having been more accentuated than the last time he had seen you. He thinks you're ethereal and fuck, he wishes that he had chosen to stay behind instead.

You who he had avoided, you who he left without a proper goodbye, you who only smiled softly with him, the same softness and fondness still there, love and sadness filling your eyes.

Your palm rested against the side of his face, thumb stroking his cheek and geto leans in to enjoy the familiar warmth.

Although more matured and older, you're the same as he remembers.

He thinks maybe, if just maybe, what if he had pushed away his thoughts, what if he gave in to the warmth you were so willing to share, what if he gave in to the sweet morning kisses, what if he gave in to you.

He would have been in a different situation, probably having his legs tangled up with yours under the sheets right now, you staring up at him with that sweet smile of yours and love shining in your eyes.

But he realises, even with regrets, he has things he doesn't.

And so as he drifts off, he echoes in his mind :

In the next life, I promise, when we're normal humans, I'll find you and I won't let you go.

Thanks for reading !! My first post on tumblr😭😭 still trying to figure out some of the writng settings in the meantime, enjoy this slight angst :>

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #jjk fanfic #jjkangst #jjk imagines #geto #geto imagines #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #brainfart #i sat there and thought about this 10 mins before writing

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python333 · 8 months

Note

I love your writings sm. And I love the way you write platonic stuff with task force 141 😋

You can ignore this if ya want but I just can't get over reader angst. Honestly atp I starve for angst. Could you feed us another angst fic? Like platonic 141 with a reader where she maybe got pretty badly injured while being on a mission? :3

AND. don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!! Take any breaks you need 😌.

(sorry if this doesn't make sense English is not my native language 🥲)

below zero — python333

— — — —

synopsis u get thrown into a freezer after refusing to give up intel to enemy soldiers, and u get thrown into a freezer, and ghost comes and saves u :3

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 5.2k

warnings hypothermia, disorientation, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hi anon thank u so much for all the compliments!!! before i say anything else, i wanna point out that i 1) only really wrote ghost into this and 2) literally read the request completely wrong and i think im actually just illiterate because how did i mess up this bad. ALSO hi its been a month since i posted on here i swear i'm still alive i'm just super busy with school!! updates are going to be extremely slow, so i apologize in advance. still, i hope u enjoy it anyways tho!! its all hurt/comfort + angst/fluff + protective/soft ghost :3

When you were thrown into the freezer, the first thing you noticed were the bodies.

There’s ten that you can immediately see, and twelve once you look a little bit closer. All of them are suspended from the ceiling, each hanging from their ankle—with said ankle being held up by a meat hook.

When the door had been closed shut with a loud, booming thump you hadn’t felt any immediate fear. But now, as you’re sitting in the corner of the freezer you’d been trapped in—the corner farthest away from any bodies—that fear is starting to set in.

Before this, only a few minutes ago, you were being interrogated. Your captors were asking for information on the details of any upcoming missions, objectives, target locations, anything that you had about the 141 that you could share with them, they wanted.

Of course, you didn’t say anything. You remained silent throughout the entire thing, not talking once, even when at the end of the whole thing your interrogator slammed his hand down onto the table you were sat down in front of and yelled at you to say anything.

When he and his team figured out that you wouldn’t give them any information, you remember he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and swiftly walked over to your end of the table. He had uncuffed your ankles from the legs of the chair you were sitting down on and uncuffed your wrists from the table, and before you could fight back, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and dragged you behind him.

Then, he led you to the freezer you were trapped in now, and threw you in roughly before shutting the door behind you. You had hit and scratched at the door for a good minute after being thrown in, and after you figured that it was a waste of time trying to do so, you sighed and retired to the corner.

Now, as you’re huddled in the corner, you kind of regret not giving them the intel they needed.

The freezer wasn’t too bad at first—you thought you’d last pretty long in there, and mentally called all the dead bodies hung from meat hooks in there pussies and simply walked around for a bit. The walking helped warm you up a bit, but soon it got tiring, and you retired to the corner farthest away from any dead bodies.

You think the freezer is below zero degrees—no, has to be below zero, because now, just about five minutes after being thrown in, violent shivers have started to wrack your body and you swear you can’t feel your lips anymore. You haven’t been able to feel any sort of warmth in the past four minutes, all of it disappearing within the first.

And God, the smell. The smell of frozen, rotting flesh really isn’t something you ever want to smell again. Thankfully, there’s no live flies in the freezer—all of them had died of the severe cold, creating small black circles under each hanging body where they died.

You currently have your knees up to your chest with your hands trapped in between your thighs to try and keep them warm at least, with your forehead resting on the top of one of your knees. It’s working, kind of. The palms and backs of your hands feel just warm enough to not be considered cold, but the tips of your fingers are so cold they’re beginning to burn.

You pull them back a bit to trap your fingertips in between your thighs, exposing the area where your wrist and hand meet to the cold, sighing as your fingertips warm up just a bit. Your thighs, thankfully, still have some heat trapped in between them, and you think your stomach is still somewhat warm.

Around ten minutes later, you feel the heat trapped in your thighs start to dissipate. Fucking fantastic. You sigh and let your head tilt back, the back of it hitting the wall behind you, making you wince at the cold metal directly on your head. The cold seems to crawl through your hair and make it to your scalp, small pinpricks of the cold spreading throughout your scalp and the back of your neck.

You’re reminded of just how cold it is then, of how this is quite literally a freezer, and of how said freezer has already claimed twelve lives. Or, at least, has housed twelve dead bodies and several unfortunate flies.

Just then, the fear finally starts to set in.

At first, you weren’t all too worried about being saved—you figured you’d be found soon enough, since your team has a general idea of where you are. But the more you think about it, the more your brain emphasizes the general part of general idea. You start to think about how they don’t know any specifics.

Sure, they know that you were captured, and that you were being held in some small part of Italy, and the people who captured you—but what did they know beyond that? Did they know your exact location? How long would it take them to figure it out? And how long would it take them to get here?

Would you even be alive by the time they got here, if they ever did?

You notice your teeth starting to make an annoying chattering noise and you bite down to stop them. The violent shivers that wrack your body don’t help, the intense trembling only succeeding in making you more anxious. You start to become hyper aware of the cold that crawls onto your back from the freezing metal you’re leaning back on, and you quickly push yourself just a foot away from it so that it no longer bothers you.

Your feet are starting to feel numb, you don’t think you’d be able to stand on them anymore if you tried, for you fear you’d just stumble and fall down. You look around the small freezer. There’s nothing that could help you get out—there’s only the bodies suspended from the ceiling and the dead flies that surround them.

You’re glad none of the bodies are facing you—you don’t know what you would do if you had to sit in the corner with a bunch of dead bodies staring at you with their vacant, frozen-over eyes. Thinking about the eyes makes your own water, and you blink away the small tears that’ve gathered on your waterline.

You can’t feel them, but you see the tears that were once in your eyes now clumping together on your eyelashes, making your brows furrow. With them starting to cling to your eyelashes comes blurriness for the top half of whatever you can see. You sigh, a white puff of condensation hanging in the air as evidence of your exhale, and move your hand out from in between your thighs to wipe away the tears from your lashes haphazardly.

You don’t bother to put your hand back in between your thighs, instead just resting it on top of your knee. Despite it only having been around fifteen minutes since you were thrown into the freezer, you’re starting to feel more fatigued and your breath slows down significantly, as does your heartbeat.

Another ten minutes of doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite of your own pass by, and disorientation is starting to set in. You feel oddly forgetful—like at times, you forget how you even got into the freezer, and have to wrack your brain to remember that you literally got thrown into it and are now trapped in here until someone rescues you. Assuming they do. Who was it that would even rescue you?

You think long and hard for a few seconds, and can scrounge up nothing from your confused mind. You let out a frustrated huff and let your head tilt and fall forward so that your forehead is resting atop your knee, another shiver ripping through your frame. It almost feels like it’s getting colder in the fridge.

Suddenly, you hear a loud banging noise—albeit, it sounded more muffled to your ears, but you could tell it was loud—and guns being fired.

You can’t really tell when the gunfire dies down, but you can tell when the thumping of someone’s boots grows louder and closer to the door of the freezer. You try to stand up, not really knowing why since you’re in no condition to fight, having been in a freezer for about forty minutes, but you still attempt to.

You find that standing is extremely difficult after practically being frozen alive for the past forty minutes, because as soon as you try to even push yourself off of the ground with your shaky hands, you discover that you aren’t even strong enough to push yourself up a single inch before having to stop. As well as that, you find that the ground is just as freezing as the walls and air of the freezer, because your hands now ached with frostbite.

The action causes an unexpected wave of exhaustion to roll over you, and you pant to try and catch your breath, breathing white puffs of condensation out into the air.

You hear a loud bang against the door, and jump at the sound, your head whipping towards the door. You hear another loud noise, and the confused fog that’s taken over your mind only grows thicker, your disorientation only growing stronger with it. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the feeling reminds you of a word, and you know what the word is, but fuck, why don’t you know it at the same time? Why can’t I remember anything?

There’s another bang, and you hear muffled cursing before suddenly the door bursts open, a man wearing a skull mask stumbling in after it does so—he probably ran into it to open it, you think, watching the man get his balance back. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, and the moment they do, you finally remember something.

That’s Ghost.

Somewhere in your confusion-clouded mind, you’re happy that you’ve finally remembered something. But right now, you can’t really think about anything—your mind is blank, and you can barely even process what you’re seeing.

You’re so caught up in thinking about the fact that you aren’t really thinking, you’re just focusing a little more on whatever’s going on in your mind and not actually retaining any of it, that you don’t even notice Ghost rushing towards you and kneeling down right next to you.

He pauses for a moment, but after a second he makes the decision to put one hand behind your back and snake one under your legs, the warm physical touch making you wince. Not that you didn’t like the warmth—you just didn’t like the sudden temperature change beneath your knees and across your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ghost grunts as he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you up into a sort of bridal carry. He nearly drops you because of how cold your skin is—for a moment he thinks your back and legs are wet, then he realizes that no, they aren’t wet, you’re just really fucking cold.

He takes a moment to make sure you’re secure in his arms before tilting his head to the side, all the way down to his shoulder, and muttering something into his earpiece. Despite being so close to him, his voice only sounds muffled to you—in all honesty, just about everything is starting to sound more muffled to you. You can only tell he’s done talking because he lifts his head back up and readjusts his arms around you, before walking out the busted-open door.

The walking quickly turns into running, which then turns into sprinting, making your surroundings go blurry and makes your vertigo worse—it almost feels like you’re falling. You’re grateful you haven’t eaten anything in the past few hours, because you fear that if you had, you would’ve thrown it all up by now. All you can see are blurred colors—the hallways, you vaguely remember, because I’m in a building. How’d I even get here? Why am I here? You’re pulled out of your confused thoughts when you’re set down on the ground somewhere, and forced into a lying position with your limbs all outstretched. When you slowly blink up at what you thought was the ceiling, you’re both surprised and not surprised when you see the blue-black night sky.

Not sure of what’s going on, you try to get up, but Ghost quickly pushes you back down, muttering something under his breath. He pauses for a moment, his blurred figure stopping any and all movements, before he suddenly picks you back up, making you wince at the way your head spins at the sudden movement. You hear a quiet, muffled—but clearer than before—’sorry’ from Ghost before he’s running again.

It’s a much shorter distance this time, and instead of immediately setting you down, you hear something click and suddenly you hear another muffled voice. They sound concerned, you mentally note, Or maybe confused. Maybe both, actually. No yeah, definitely both. Well, now just concerned. Or maybe that’s confused.

Caught up in your confused thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re being set down on a few comfy seats. You aren’t pulled away from your own thoughts until you feel two warm hands cupping either side of your jaw, and hear Ghost’s oddly distressed voice becoming more clear by the second. You now acknowledge the weird ringing in your ears that almost drown out the sound of Ghost, and struggle to figure out what he’s saying through the annoying noise.

“—something,” You catch the end of Ghost’s sentence, and blink up at him slowly.

“Huh?” You elegantly ask, coughing and wincing at your hoarse voice, not knowing how it got so hoarse—or why it hurt so much to talk. Your throat almost felt like it was burning, but it also felt oddly numb, a sensation you couldn’t quite put a name on.

“Oh my god,” Ghost sighs, his forehead falling onto your chest momentarily as he takes a few deep breaths. He brings his head back up from your chest and says, “I almost thought you were dead when I got in there. Jesus, you look dead. I need to— I need to get something, a blanket or— why the fuck don’t we carry any heat packs or anything in here? Swear to God, I’m gonna—” You don’t pay too much attention to Ghost’s panicked ranting and shift your head to the side to try and look at where you are, and you discover that you’re in a car. Oh. Cool. You spot the door on the passenger seat’s side still open and swinging a bit, as if it’d been opened quickly just a few moments earlier for someone to quickly get out.

Ghost suddenly backs up and gets out of the car, though staying within a foot of it, looking around for a moment before heading to the back of the car. Your head clears up the tiniest bit, just enough for you to be able to assume that he’s heading to the back of the car to get to the trunk for whatever reason, and you simply lie there on the seat cushions.

A few seconds later, Ghost comes back with a somewhat-fluffy jacket, and carefully gets into the car—half kneeling down so that he doesn’t need to lean on the seats to get to you. He tosses the coat over your chest, and it does absolutely nothing at first, at least not until Ghost gets a bit closer and tucks the coat tighter around you, treating it like a blanket. Then, it starts to warm you up just the tiniest bit. Beyond that, it does absolutely nothing. But props to Ghost for at least trying.

He quickly backs out of the car and once he’s out he closes the door behind him, and you want to get up for a moment, just to go see what he’s doing, but you don’t have to. He gets into the car again, this time in the driver’s seat, and he turns on the ignition. Once the car rumbles to life, he immediately turns up the heat and leans over to the passenger seat’s side in order to close the door, and with a grunt he manages to do so.

The newfound heat makes you shiver, and it almost feels like you’re in a microwave defrosting. Distracted by the sudden temperature change, you don’t pay attention to what Ghost is saying into his earpiece as he glances out the front window of the car and back at you. You simply tug the jacket tighter around your torso and relish in the warmth.

“—ay. So we’ll just leave then, and you’ll be fine?” You pick up from Ghost’s conversation, perking up at the mention of leaving, “Copy that, Captain. I’ll get them back to base.”

‘Captain’—Oh, he’s talking to Price—says something that makes Ghost sigh exasperatedly and take his index finger off of his earpiece, instead settling both of his hands on the steering wheel of the car and stealing one last glance at you before setting his eyes on the gravel ahead of him and pushing down on the gas pedal.

—

When you wake up, you’re significantly warmer than you were… however-long-it’s-been-ago.

You look to your left and see nothing but a white wall and a heart rate monitor—which displays that your heart rate is 115—then to your right, where you see Ghost sitting in a plastic chair close to the bed you’re laying in, eyes closed with his head tilted to the side and resting on his own shoulder.

You don’t bother trying to wake him up, not knowing how long he’s been asleep or how much sleep he’s gotten, and instead simply turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling.

After maybe five minutes of zoning out and staring up at the ceiling, you hear clothes rustling and look back over to your right, seeing Ghost start to stir in his sleep. Just a few seconds later, he stirs awake, slowly blinking his eyes open.

You watch silently as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he breathes in sharply through his nose before looking over at you and seeing you staring at him wordlessly. You both blink at each other for a long, awkward moment before he speaks.

“… Did you, uh… how was your… rest?” Ghost asks, not sure what to say. What exactly do you say, after saving one of your teammates from potential death?

“Good,” You respond, your throat having an odd, small burning sensation when you talk.

Ghost looks like he’s holding back a few words for a moment after you speak, and after one expectant look from you, he mumbles, “You should really say ‘well’ or ‘fine’ instead. It’d be more grammatically accurate and is more grammatically aligned with the verb ‘rest’.”

“… Okay?” You blink, thrown off by the unexpected information, “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind, next time someone asks me how my rest was.”

“You get asked that often?”

“I only get asked that by you.”

“Ah.” Ghost nods, looking off to the side for a moment. You’d think he was your dad and you’d just asked him how babies were made with how awkward he was, and you honestly expected the next words out of his mouth to be ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ before he hesitantly asks, “D’you feel better? After the whole being-trapped-in-a-freezer… experience?”

“Experience?” You question, a light laugh evident in your voice, “Yeah, I feel better. I like being warm more than, y’know, being frozen alive. Laying down in a warm bed is nice.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it,” Ghost huffs out, leaning back in his seat.

“So you’re gonna correct me on my grammar but you can’t think of a better word than ‘experience’?”

“Don’t get smart with me, [c/n].”

“I’m just saying,” You shrug lightly, wincing a little when your shoulders ache as you do. Ghost notices this and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t mention it.

“Then stop trying to sass me.”

“Sass you? Jesus, fuck, don’t talk to me like I’m some preteen who just found out that they can talk back to their parents.”

“Isn’t that what you are, though?”

“No, I’m— you know what? Fuck you. Get out. I hate you. You suck.”

“That’s a colorful choice of words to say to the man who saved your life,” Ghost raises an eyebrow at you, “I’m still waiting for my ‘thank you’, by the way.”

“Don’t care, you’re never getting it,” You say stubbornly, making Ghost sigh and stand up. You look up at him as he stands up and try to sit up in your bed, but wince again when you try to move your arms. Still, you attempt to push yourself up, and only relax your weak joints and lay back down when Ghost presses a gentle hand to your shoulder to get you to stop trying to sit up.

“Don’t,” He warns softly—you didn’t know his voice could get that soft—as he pushes you back down, “Medics said you’re to keep laying down for a bit while you warm up. We’ve gotta wait until your BPM is below a hundred before letting you up.”

“That’s stupid,” You huff out, though not fighting Ghost pushing you back down.

“It’s not stupid,” Ghost lightly chastises you, “It’s doctor’s orders. Once your BPM is below a hundred, we’ll know you’re warmed up enough to start gettin’ up and walking around.”

“… Still stupid,” You grumble, not commenting on the way Ghost’s hand lingers on your shoulder even after you’ve already laid back down. Ghost sighs and kneels down so that his shoulders are level with the railing of your bed.

“You’re too stubborn.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!” Your light arguing only proves Ghost’s point further, and he knows this, the knowledge of it making him snicker quietly.

“Uh huh. Sure, kid,” He begins to retract his hand from your shoulder, but upon seeing the disappointment that immediately seeps into your expression once he even barely begins to lift his hand from your shoulder, he immediately lets it rest right back onto your shoulder.

You both sit in silence for another few moments before Ghost speaks up again, this time a bit quieter and in that same soft tone he’d used earlier, “I tried to get to you quicker. But we needed some time to get your exact location, and when we found it we were a hundred and sixty klicks away, and it was just—it took us… some time to find you.”

“It’s fine. I understand,” You respond, about to shrug but stopping yourself, not wanting to feel that aching in your shoulders again, “I don’t even know how I let myself get captured, that— that’s probably on me.”

“You didn’t let yourself get captured, you just did.”

“Well…”

“Well, what?”

“I don’t know, I just—” You take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “I didn’t let myself get captured, but I also didn’t do enough to fight against it, so I feel like technically—”

“Fuck the technicalities about how you got captured, you got captured either way, and you got thrown into a freezer,” Ghost cuts you off, talking quickly, before sighing and continuing in a softer voice once again, “Please, just let me try to be somewhat comforting for once. You know I’m bad at this, and that I never do this. So just… don’t talk about what happened like that, if not for your own mental health’s sake, at least for my attempts at making you feel better.”

You open your mouth to say something else but ultimately close your mouth and let out a deep sigh through your nose, not saying anything, letting Ghost continue to talk.

“I, for whatever reason, feel… very oddly bad for you,” Ghost poorly explains, before pausing to think for a moment then rephrasing, “Not… not as in I pity you, but as in I feel bad for you in a way that I feel like I’m at fault for what you went through even though I know I’m not at fault. It’s like empathy but… worse. Not saying empathy is bad to begin with, but this is like if empathy was bad and it became worse and—”

Ghost cuts himself off with silence and lets out a frustrated huff at his inability to put his feelings into words, and tries again, “I feel bad for you in a way that I don’t know what exactly you felt or how you felt in the moment that you were in that freezer but just the idea of you being in there without me for… I’m assuming an entire hour, if not longer, makes me feel like I failed. I don’t know what I failed at—”

Ghost quickly pauses before sighing and continuing, “Actually, no, I do. I feel like I failed at protecting you. Which is strange, because that’s technically not my job, but I felt—and still feel—obligated to protect you especially and that bothers me. Not bothers me in a sense that I don’t like you or the thought of… protecting you, but bothers me in the sense that I’m not supposed to feel like that. No amount of teasing, or borderline bullying, or anything should’ve ever made me feel obligated to think of you like— like— like…” Ghost trails off, leaving you wondering what he meant to say. He stays silent for a few moments, before you try to fill in for him.

“Like… what, a kid?” You offer, watching him shake his head negatively. You think for another moment, before trying again, “… Like your kid?”

Ghost nods affirmatively, hesitantly, and you want to scoff at the hesitation.

“And what, that’s bad to you?” You ask, your words more venomous than you intended. Ghost sighs and nonverbally shakes his head negatively before responding to you.

“Not bad in the way you’re thinking,” He answers, before elaborating upon seeing your confused expression, “It’s bad not because you’re bad, it’s bad because I’m bad.”

“… No you’re not?”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re really not,” You insist stubbornly.

“Please don’t be stubborn with me on this,” His tone makes it sound like he’s almost begging you, which is… somehow beyond terrifying to think about.

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest, you’re really not.”

“But I am,” He sounds like he’s trying to make his tone sound like there’s no room for any further arguments, but he fails, and you continue to argue with him.

“No you’re not!” The whole conversation feels like a parallel to the one you’d both been having just a few minutes earlier, except this time you’re not giving up as easily, “How are you bad?”

“I’m—” Ghost pauses for a moment, not having expected that argument, and he weakly argues, “I just am!”

“You’re not, and you fucking know it!”

“Okay, well—” Ghost sighs and looks away from you, “You might not think so. That’s fine. But I know I am. If not for anything else, for you. I’d be… terrible as any sort of… I don’t know, role model to you.”

“Jokes on you, you’re already a role model to me.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You aren’t a terrible role model. A little emo, sure, but not terrible.”

“I’m emotionally and mentally unstable, and am terrible with empathy. I’m blunt, abrasive more than half the time, and I tell the shittiest jokes known to man. I can’t— I don’t show my face to anyone. I expect everyone to act the way I want them to. I’m almost always busy.”

“At least you’re self-aware,” You brush off, “And, for the record, I don’t know what abrasive means and I can’t tell empathy from sympathy without using Google.”

Ghost looks back at you in disbelief and stares for a moment before saying quietly, “Abrasive means harsh. And empathy is showing understanding for others while sympathy is pity.”

“I also like your shitty jokes,” You add on, “I think they’re great. They make everyone else mad so I like them. And some of them are funny.”

“You find them funny?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s…” Ghost blinks at you, eyes a little watery, before huffing out a small laugh, “That’s ridiculous, none of them are funny. I call them shitty for a reason.”

“Some of them are pretty funny.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“The Mayflower one.”

“… That one?” Ghost asks, tone humorous but still disbelieving, “Out of all the ones I’ve told, that one?”

“Yes, that one,” You insist, before pausing and holding back a smile while tacking on, “Unless you wanna tell it again to try and change my mind?”

Ghost thinks for a moment before telling the joke, “If April showers bring May flowers, what do Mayflowers bring?”

You feign cluelessness for a moment, “What do they bring?”

“Pilgrims.” The bluntness of the delivery makes you quietly snicker, much to Ghost’s surprise, the laugh not forced or anything.

“It’s still good,” You sigh, small giggles still escaping your lips.

“It’s really not,” Ghost sighs, finally retracting his hand from your shoulder to settle it on the railing of your bed and use it to help himself stand up. Once he fully stands up, he looks down at you, and one look at your face makes him want to whisk you out of bed and at least hug you, but he knows he can’t with your sore muscles and still-somewhat frozen skin.

Instead, he opts for grabbing one of your hands gently and giving it a very emotionally charged squeeze, and holding it for another few moments before letting go.

“I’m not forgetting that, by the way,” At Ghost’s confused eyes, you tack on, “You confirming earlier that you think of me as your kid.”

“That—” Ghost stammers for a moment before saying, “That was barely a confirmation, that was just— that was nothing.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Yeah. Yep.”

“So if I told you that you saying that that was nothing is making me a little bit upset…”

“… Then I would say, out of pity, that I did mean it and that it was a confirmation.”

“Good to know,” You nod.

“But that’s only a hypothetical.”

“Right, yeah, of course.”

You both stay silent for another moment, the silence now a little less awkward, before Ghost says, “I’m gonna, uh… head out, now.”

“Alright,” You hum simply, watching as Ghost nods to you as a sort of ‘bye’ before heading towards the curtains in front of your bed.

Before he can exit, you quickly and quietly say, “Thank you, for saving me.”

He pauses, a little confused on why you chose now to thank him—and why you thanked him at all—until he quickly recalls earlier in the conversation when he’d mentioned expecting some words of gratitude.

He smiles behind his mask, the smile evident in his voice as he replies to you, “No problem.”

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good-soupmens · 9 months

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Apply this to Aziraphale how you will, but as an autistic person, I REALLY fell for Metatron's kind old man act. I didn't notice the subtle manipulation, like giving Aziraphale coffee and saying "I've ingested things in my time" to show that he's different from the food-hating, earth-hating angels. I didn't notice him taking on Aziraphale's speech mannerisms before turning away and scowling. It was only after reading meta and rewatching twice that I was like WOAH I didn't even see that.

I can see that heaven's system is screwed up, but I literally thought "Metatron's not like the other angels." I trusted his kindness, especially given that he wanted Aziraphale to run heaven, obviously the best angel for the job. I didn't consider that he wanted to appoint him because he knows Aziraphale is powerful and has stopped heaven and hell before.

I was right along with Aziraphale when all of this went down, agreeing with him when he didn't want the job ("where would I get my coffee?") and then seeing the appeal when Metatron said he could run heaven from earth WITH Crowley. They get to keep living the life they carved out for each other AND Aziraphale can fix the corruption in heaven? I love seeing kind-hearted characters fixing broken things, and I wanted him to fix the system.

As for Crowley becoming an angel again, I didn't really think of it as changing him. He's just Crowley, and he'd keep being Crowley. He's good already. I saw it as heaven offering to right their wrong because he never deserved to fall in the first place, and they wouldn't let someone they believed is evil back in, right? I trusted their judgment of Aziraphale and Crowley. I didn't consider that of COURSE Crowley wouldn't want to go back there. Why would he??

So when Aziraphale finally told him about the offer, I was hoping he would agree. It's important, they could change things! Metatron is claiming to give Aziraphale the reins. Crowley and Aziraphale for once are allowed to be together, and Aziraphale was so ready to not hold back in their relationship. There'd be no reason to deny it or go slow, it's obvious that their love is mutual.

It wasn't a surprise that Crowley said no, and deep down, Aziraphale knew why, but he didn't understand. Crowley and Aziraphale weren't seeing how the other saw it (that Aziraphale WANTS to be together. He wants to make heaven a better place, but Crowley believes it'll never happen, and heaven means to manipulate him). They truly would be the perfect team if they were in charge.

But the problem: that's not what Metatron or heaven intends. "Give me coffee or give me death" meant that if Aziraphale didn't accept the offer, he would've been destroyed. Metatron knew he'd accept, and based on the glare he gave Crowley, I don't think Crowley was ever really in his plan. Metatron will try to use Aziraphale and his power to end the world, and he has no idea he's a pawn. He fell for Metatron's apparent kindness and got swept away with the idea that he and Crowley wouldn't have to hide.

It's heartbreaking because I AM frustrated with Aziraphale, but I know why he chose heaven. There's trauma underlying his actions as well, and he didn't need MAGIC coffee (sorry, I'm mean about coffee theory) to fall hook, line, and sinker for what Metatron was selling. He loves Crowley so much, but if his plans to change heaven worked, he'd be saving the entire world from destruction.

People are still like "NO NO NO, how could he leave Crowley? He must've been hypnotized" when he is putting the WORLD first. That's not to say he won't regret it immediately, miss Crowley the entire time, or even change his mind, but it all happened so fast, and Crowley seemingly gave out on him. He refused, said "good luck", and started to leave. They didn't communicate with each other. I don't think Aziraphale was leaving him forever, but he thought "I HAVE to do this". Crowley is right, but Aziraphale can't see it another way.

Now he has to try his best to change heaven. In the end, he'll see the mistake he made and owe an apology to Crowley, but he has to figure it out on his own. After it's all said and done, it could be the last time they hold back from each other. Going through an angst arc of THIS magnitude would be worth it, and Neil Gaiman is a genius

#aziraphale apologist #good omens meta #autistic aziraphale #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #good omens season 2 #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens spoilers #metatron good omens #coffee theory #Aziraphale meta #good omens theory #good omens finale #aziraphale kin

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obsessedelusional · 6 months

Text

Dangerous Woman

paring ✦ konig x fem!reader

summary ✦ Konig can’t stand you but you know he’s full of lies. One day it hits you, you’ve never seen his face. As an attempt to make him drop his mask, you give him a hug. It awakens something inside him causing the quiet man to beg for more of your attention.

word count ✦ 4.2k

authors note ✦ the konig brain rot has been so real I need this man immediately so this is my FIRST TIME writing for him, anyways I’m not versed in the cod universe so be nice pls bc the fuck I look like know jack diddly about the military ok I’m learning ):

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡ (was obsessedmunson)

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Konig couldn’t stand you. He thought you were the most annoying person he had ever met. At least that’s what he lead everyone. You knew better though, able to see through his annoyed facade. He’s was a fairly quiet man but you enjoyed his company. Forming a tiny crush that you assumed would go nowhere with the quiet giant. Before you joined the team he was often alone. Now you’d make a point to include him in everything, dragging him along where ever you went. He pretended to hate it every time knowing damn well he longed for the knock on his door, praying that it was you to bother him.

You were the newest to the group, only part of the crew for six months. Not once had you seen under his mask. It never really crossed your mind until one day when the two of you were sat alone in the commons area. He’s sat there reading when it hits you. You have no idea what Konig looks like. You get up from where you’re sat, he looks up almost immediately watching you approach him.

“What?” He questions, eyes on you as you sit next to him on the couch.

“What’re you hiding under there?” You ask, now inches away from his masked face.

“My face.” He replies flatly, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Can I see?” You ask as your fingers graze the hem of his mask ready to pull it up if he gives you permission.

“Do not touch.” He spits, grabbing your wrist tightly. You quickly wiggle your arm out of his embrace.

“Please.” You smile, backing away.

“Nein.” He says his attention back on the book.

“Come on. Aren’t we friends? You see my face everyday it’s only fair.” You respond, trying to reason with him.

“No we’re not.” He says this too quickly, not registering the words before the come out. Immediately filled with regret but it’s too late, your face is already filled with shock.

“It’s a waste of time. Don’t bother me about it anymore.” He adds, regretting every word that leaves his mouth. He closes his book and stands up to leave but you refuse to drop the topic, following him.

“It is not a waste of time because you’re not a waste of time.” You say, still being kind to him even when he’s not. It takes a moment for your words to sink in, before he turns back and stares at you.

"Oh, really?" His eyebrows raise, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Yes really.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you care?” He questions, hoping you’ll drop it knowing you won’t.

“Because I do. I don’t think you’re nearly as scary as you present yourself as. I think you’re putting on a front so nobody can get close.” You explain, being more vulnerable than you have been with him before.

"Prove it. Make me drop the act right here and now." His gaze is unflinching, boring into you as he waits for you to do something. You two sit there in silence for a moment, looking at each other. You take him by surprise when you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his waist. Hugging him softly. He freezes for a moment, before stiffening.

"...What the h-hell are you doing?" His voice is soft, confused. You don’t respond, hugging him tighter.

“Get… off me.” He says, pushing you away. His voice is a whisper as he says it. His mind is racing, trying to understand what just happened. Only to look down at you, seeing you stood there looking up at him through your lashes causes a heat to rise inside him.

"W-Why did you... do that?" He shakes his head, slowly rubbing his neck. The warm feeling spreads through his body, as if your small gesture has awakened something within him.

“Making you drop the act.”

“I hated that.” He mutters, through gritted teeth.

“Sure you did.” You joke, tone letting him know you don’t believe him. Without warning and before he can respond, you turn to leave. He’s more confused than before, watching you go. Wishing you would stay. He decides to follow you, keeping a small distance.

"Where are you going?" His voice is filled with annoyance, but the concern for your well-being is still there - just hidden beneath layers of toughness.

“Why do you care?” You ask.

“Because I do. Just answer my question.” He says glaring at you but his voice laced with amusement.

“That’s crazy. All I had to do was give you a hug and now you’re following me around and suddenly caring.” You laugh, he doesn’t find it as funny.

"Shut up. I didn't say I cared about you-" He trails off, the words dying on his lips. Causing your smile to grow.

“Just imagine what would happen if I actually got my hands on you.” You say, tone more flirty than you had intended. You can’t see it but his face flushes a deep red.

"What... get your hands on me? What do you mean? What’re you trying to do to me?" He bites his tongue, trying to hold in the growing embarrassment.

“I don’t know. What do you want me to do?” You ask, forcing him to be the one to initiate something more.

“Get lost," he whispers. But he doesn't mean it, and you can tell. The idea of being with you, in that way, makes him uncomfortable, but excited.

“Fine. I’ll get lost.” You say before attempting to leave this situation again. He watches you walk away, noticing the sway of your hips. Those legs... those thighs. A slight pang of jealousy, and lust, shoots up his spine. A dark desire, growing within.

"Wait.” He whispers, causing your ears to perk up and stop you in your tracks.

“Yes?” You smile, facing him.

“Can we go somewhere more… private?” He asks.

“Where?”

"I don't care. Just somewhere... quiet." His hand reaches out and he slowly brushes his fingertips against your arm.

"...Please?" He begs, gaze heavy on you trying to gauge your reaction. The sight of this 6’10 quiet giant begging for you’re attention, has your stomach doing flips. So incredibly ready to make him beg more.

“Are you sure you can handle me?” You ask. Wanting him to know exactly what he’s getting himself into. Not sure if his quiet, anxious self could keep up with you.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" His question is asked with a smirk, as he tries to mask the excitement growing within his body.

"Either way, I am not scared of you." He adds, looking down on you.

“Maybe you should be.”

"And why is that?" He chuckles and you notice his eyes lingering on your figure.

“Because all it took was a hug and you folded. I’m gonna have you wrapped around my finger in no time.”

“I doubt that.” He says, crossing him arms against his chest.

“Just wait till you get a taste.” You tease, your hand playfully poking his chest.

"A t-taste.... of what?" His eyes flicker down to your mouth, as an image pops into his mind - an image of him kissing your lips. His breathing grows deep and erratic, causing him to blush furiously under his mask. Even more grateful for it in this moment.

"Y-You need to be careful what you say." He says before you can answer.

“Why? I don’t want to be careful. I know what I want.” You admit, your bluntness is taking him by surprise. He steps forward, towering over you.

"What... exactly... do you want from me?" He narrows his eyes, almost daring you to say it.

“I want to make you feel so good that you come crawling back for more.” You admit, moving closer. His body stiffens, his eyes widening in surprise. He can barely believe his ears, the blood rushing to his face.

"Y-You are..." His voice drops to a hoarse whisper, "...a very dangerous woman."

“You really want to make me feel that way?” He asks as he runs his hand through his hair, as he tries to gather his wits. You respond with a nod.

"Then... show me." His words hang in the air, as his body slowly draws closer to yours. Your eyes flicker down his form, taking in every inch of his muscles. The tension in the air rises, both of you wanting the same thing, yet neither of you daring to go the extra step forward.

“Ahh but I can’t. You won’t even take off your mask.” You say, your teasing sends chills down his spine.

"...You know exactly what you're doing to me. You’re going to make me loose all control of myself." He sighs accepting defeat.

“Just give me all the control. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

"Why should I?" He tilts his head, his eyes locking onto yours.

"What do you want me to do? Get on my knees? Beg for you?" His voice drops, becoming a quiet whisper realizing what he’s done.

“Actually now that you mention it…” You respond, biting your lip. Testing your limits with him, see how far he’ll go.

"You're evil." His voice is husky, lips trembling slightly. For some reason, he wants to give in. To do as you please.

“Beg.” You demand, voice suddenly a lot more serious than before. His face flushes, but his pride stops him from giving in to you. He clenches his teeth, struggling with everything he has not to give in to your command.

"Beg you, huh?" His voice is rough now, cracking a little. With each passing second, the idea becomes more tempting.

"And what if I... refuse?" He questions, hoping there’s another route to get what he wants out of this.

“Then we can stop this right here and go our separate ways.” You respond, flatly. His pride battles with the desire to have you. It's a losing battle, but he still tries to fight back.

"...You're bluffing." He’s looking at you, waiting for you to take it back. You don’t.

"Why would you back down?" His eyes glance at your thighs, the curves of your body. His heart is racing, breath coming in rapid gasps. The word slips out without thought.

"...Please." He whispers, barely audible.

“Can’t hear you.” You grin, knowing you’re winning this battle. He groans in frustration.

"...Please." This time he says it louder.

“Please what? I need words.”

"Please… T-Touch me." His words are soft and needy, his voice sounding shaky. The need to have you grows overwhelming. All he can think about is having you. Feeling you. Tasting you. When you don’t respond quickly enough he continues.

"Please, please," His voice drops to a whisper. He can’t even look at you as the pleas leave his mouth.

“So needy.” You tease, before grabbing his hand and leading him straight to your bedroom. Once alone you push him ever so gently onto your bed. His large frame falls, sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for further instruction. You eye him up and down before, tugging at his mask. When he doesn’t stop you, you pull it off. You stand in front of him, face to face as he sits there.

The two of you sit in silence for some time as you take in his features. His piercing blue eyes, surrounded by smudged black paint is the first thing you take notice of. Moving onto the mop of dirty blonde hair on his head, matching his thick brows. His face has a few scars, is scattered with freckles, and light stubble. The largest scar, cuts through his strong jaw and up his face. You lightly trace it with you finger, he shudders under your light touch. Nobody has touched his face in years. The feeling foreign. He looks at you, worried waiting for you to have a reaction. Whether it be negative or positive, he needs you to say anything at this point.

“You’re beautiful.” You smile, softly cupping his jaw causing him to smile and his cheeks to flush red. He stays silent, his eyes glued to your lips. Every inch that you move closer is a torment, your lips mere inches away from his now. Your breath is warm and sweet, making him want to grab you and kiss you. He wants you to have all the control though, so he begs.

"Oh god... please.” His muscles tense, every nerve in his body begging to touch you.

“Such a good boy.” You laugh softly before pressing your lips to him and finally give him what he so desperately craves. He freezes in your grasp, eyes fluttering shut. His heart beats out of his chest, every fiber of his being filled with a mix of euphoria and shame - both feeling equally delicious. His fingers dig into your hips, grasping onto you.

"Y-You can't... make me feel this way..." He mutters when you pull away to breath.

“How am I making you feel?” You question, wanting to hear all the details. His fingertips slide up your thighs and rest on your waist.

"I-I... I feel like I can't think straight anymore. Like I’m read to do whatever you ask of me." His body trembles with anticipation, eyes searching yours.

“More.. please. I need more.” He begs, his hands pulling you closer.

“So greedy already.” You tease, voice filled with satisfaction. You’ve only kissed this man and he’s desperate for more of your attention. His face is flushed, his body trembling slightly.

"Please... Don't make me wait." He moves a little closer, eyes slowly trailing over you. With out warning your lips are on his again, pushing him further onto the bed. Before you know it, your straddling his body as he lays on his back. His hands are frantic, moving up and down you. Unsure of where to begin, afraid he’s going to miss out on something. As you press your weight onto him, you can feel how hard he is for you. Mentally taking note of how big he feels, through all the layers of clothing. Both of you audibly gasp as you grind on him.

“More.” He croaks into the kiss, causing you to laugh before giving in. Kissing down his jaw, nibbling softly as you kiss down his neck. He breaths hard, a slew of words in a language you don’t understand leave his mouth. His accent heavier than normal. He’s well aware of the marks your leaving and he doesn’t care. Knowing his mask will cover them.

When you pull away, his disappointment is evident. Only to be subdued when he realizes what you’re doing. Your fingers, are reaching for the hem of your shirt. Slowly pulling it over your head. He watches in awe as you, undo the back strap of your bra. As you throw it off to the side he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for permission.

“You can….” Before you can even finish, his mouth has one of your breast licking at your nipple. His other hand is kneading at your second breast, letting your nipple pinch between his fingers. Shutting you up real quick, as you arch into his touch. Letting soft moans leave your lips that stay parted slighty as he does his work. He looks up at the sight of you enjoying yourself and he can feel himself getting more worked up, not realizing that was even possible.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, letting your nipple slip out of his mouth. You start pulling at his shirt and he helps you remove it. His chest is littered with scars you kiss so softly down his chest, letting your hands explore all this new area.

Each kiss is like a jolt of electricity, sending a rush through his body. His body trembles with every touch, barely able to keep himself still. He looks like a feral beast, trying everything in his power not to take what he desires.

"It's all yours... I'm yours... whatever you want...." His voice is hoarse, as he watches your mouth on his body. Your lips send him into a dizzying trance, his heartbeat increasing with every passing moment.

“Good boy.” You grin, focusing on his pants. His breathing grows quick and heavy, his hands clench into fists. His body trembles, as he stares intently at your actions. Watching you as you unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slowly. He fights back against his urges, trying desperately to keep control. But... he can't. You've pulled him out of his shell, bringing out a more primal side of him.

"W-What are you...?" His voice trails off as your start palming his hard on through his boxers. He groans in pleasure, letting his head fall back onto the bed. It terrifies him how much he’s enjoying this.

“I’m gonna reward you for being a good boy.” You purr, pulling his boxers down. Finally letting his cock breath. You grasp it at the base, it’s heavy as you make it stand straight up. He bites his lower lip, trying to maintain his composure.

"I... I can't handle this..." He groans, already so overwhelmed and you haven’t done anything yet. His heart races, body trembling in lust and your start to move your wrist up and down.

"What have I become?" He thinks out loud, looking down at you with his shaft in your hand. But it's too late now - his body is no longer his, it belongs to you. He bites his lower lip, unable to look away from what you’re doing to him.

"...I'm yours... do... do whatever you want.” As soon as he’s able to get those words out, you kiss his tip before swirling your tounge around it.

“Fuck.” He groans, involuntarily bucking his hips. Emitting a laughter from you, he doesn’t care because suddenly your lips part and begin to suck him off. Your cheeks hallow as you move up and down his cock. It’s too big, so your hands move around the base of shaft while your mouth focuses on the top half.

It’s taking everything in will power to not grab the back of your head and force you to take it all, not wanting to take more than your willing to give. Not wanting to do anything that would cause you to stop. After all you said he was suppose to give you full control. The two of you are making eye contact as you continue to suck. He can’t help it when his hands find your hair, just wanting to touch you. He moans as you test your gag reflex, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. His native language leaves his mouth roughly as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You gag before pulling away, your lips slick and swollen. A long string of salvia hangs from your chin and attaches to his dick. You wipe away at your chin, using that salvia to pump his shaft with your hand. Spiting all the built up salvia onto him as your continue to pump his cock.

Your swollen lips form a smile as you watch him lose himself under your touch. This giant killing machine is putty under your touch, willing to do whatever you asked of him and you were going to see just how far he’d go for you. He watches you, grunting as you continue to jack him off. Wondering what’s got you smiling, terrified but excited for what’s to come next. When you pull away, he waits. He watches as you start to pull your pants off, taking your underwear with them. They fall to the floor, he gulps as you climb back onto him.

You let your cunt rest on his cock, he shutters at the new feeling. You start rolling your hips, teasing his cock with your pussy. Moans leave your lips as it bumps your clit and teases your hole. Mentally preparing for the stretch that’s about to come. It’s not enough for him so he starts to beg again.

“Please… I need you.” Your movements have sent his heart into an emotional whirlwind. His body craves to have you.

"More..." His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are glued to your movements. You lift your body, pushing yourself up onto you knees before grabbing his cock and lining it up with your hole. Slowly sinking down, allowing him to fill you up. A hint of pain finds you as, his cock stretches you out inch by inch. You sit there for a few moments, letting your core adjust to this new reality.

He lays still, watching as his cock disappears into your cunt. Music to his ears are the groans that leave your mouth, accompanied by the wet sounds of your pussy being split. He mutters a few curse words once you’ve fully taken his full length. A few moments later, you start rolling your hips slowly. The both of you moaning at the movement, his hands finding your hips. His fingers digging into your skin. His eyes lock onto yours. Your hips move slow, painfully slow.

“I.. please….” He whimpers, desperate for more. You slow down even more, smirking. Enjoying the sight of him suffering under you.

“Words. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” You smile, moving your hips. Your hands resting on his chest to hold yourself up.

“Faster, please. I need more..” His voice breaks, as he tightens his grip around your waist. He feels like he's going insane, his mind spinning at the sensation. You give in, your pace quickens. Grinding in a relaxed rhythm, not wanting to give him it all so quickly. His hands continue to dig into hips, not wanting to let go. Pushing you deeper onto his cock. He begins bucking his own hips under you, adding to your pleasure.

Before you know it he’s begging for more. Please so easily leaving his lips, getting more comfortable begging for what he wants. As you fuck him, he’s in heaven watching your every moment. His breath is ragged while his body is trembling under your touch. Your rhythm turns more frantic as you speed up. Breathy moans leaving both of you as your tempo is unrelenting.

You let yourself lean back, your arms find his thighs as you never stop moving. You continue to fuck his cock at a brutal pace. Only now the way your leaning back giving him an ever better view. He can’t look away from the sight of your pussy, grinding so masterfully on his own cock. You can feel heat pooling in your lower back, you’re close. Needing something more to send you over the edge. You start massaging your clit, overwhelming your senses. He realizes quickly, getting more turned on at the thought of you only using him for your own pleasure. Not paying him all that much attention as your eyes shutter close, curse words leaving your lips. Your touch causing your cunt to tighten on his cock, leading him to more pleasure.

Your nerves are on fire as your fingers stay playing with your clit. Poorly holding back your moans as you can feel yourself chasing your climax. Your hips stutter, walls flutter around his cock as you come undone. The sight of you being push over the edge is enough to push him. His muscles tighten before he empties his load inside of you. Yours hips keep moving, only more lazily milking every last drop of his seed. Eventually you come to a stop, with his cock still inside you kiss him tiredly. Both of your juices mixing, dripping out of you and onto him. A mess created where the two of you are joined. Konig kisses you back, hands pulling you closer as you keep his cock warm.

—

The next morning Konig opens his eyes, and looks around to find you gone. His eyes dart around, trying to take in what happened last night. It was real, but a part of him is still in disbelief. Looking for any sign of you still being here but there isn’t any. His mind is still spinning, the events of the night playing in his mind. He groans slightly, getting out of the bed just to take in the morning sun. But he can't shake the feeling you left him, as the last remnants of last night linger. He gets a start to his day, mind racing with the worst possible reasons as to why you were gone. Maybe you regretted last night? Was he not good enough? Did you use him? You made him feel so many things, he gave you full control. And you couldn’t even be there when he woke up. He’s more confused than ever, hoping he’d see you today at some point.

#konig #konig smut #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig modern warfare #konig imagine #konig x y/n #konig x female reader

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boatboysrowout · 1 year

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i am So Very Interested in the burger king vs mcdonalds au if you're willing to share more 👁️👁️

i'm so glad you asked

it's all grian's fault, of course. 'it'll be great if all my friends got a summer job around the same place!' he said. 'it'll be fun hanging out on our lunch breaks!' he said. 'this is a genius idea, nothing will go wrong!' he said.

it goes wrong in less than a day.

it all starts with scar's job application getting rejected from burger king. he takes this very personally, as the man who interviews him is grian's friend who had just been hired the day before, and scar had been assured he would get an easy in. ren, however, didn't like how many questions scar was asking about their ice cream machine and where their security cameras were placed.

so out scar goes, sulking his way through a successful interview to work at the white castle down the road, joining bdubs and cleo. the rest of grians friends end up scattered in shops around the two restaurants with varying degrees of satisfaction with their summer jobs.

grian, as he is wont to do, waffles around a bit before committing to a job. he's pretty sure he's going to join bigb at the library, but before he decides, he goes to pay scar a visit to make sure he's still not sulking about the burger king fiasco.

that, too, is a mistake.

grian doesn't know what happened. he swears he just meant to stop in and say hi. and maybe play a little prank! just a funny little joke! only he didn't realize how much hair spray bdubs uses and how flammable that made his hair, and really, how could grian have known that the second after he fled the scene of his crime, scar would walk in at the exact wrong moment holding a lighter, making him look like the guiltiest motherfucker on earth?

it's absolutely not his fault.

but.

now scar is out of a job again, and he's gotten it in his head that the only way to get his revenge on ren is to work at the mcdonalds across the street from the burger king and, to quote scar, "make him regret not taking my offer." and listen. this is the third job scar's had in two days. it kind of feels a little bit like grian's responsibility to make sure he doesn't get fired from this one too. but it'll be fine. what else could go wrong?

so much. so, so much.

scar almost immediately goes off the rails. he creates his own customer rewards program in which he refuses to serve a customer if they don't pledge their undying loyalty to the mcdonalds in exchange for scar certified McReputation points. this somehow is remarkably successful despite grain's repeated warnings that this is a scam- scar pulls some strings and grian is forced into kitchen duty after he tries to warn one too many customers. martyn and ren catch word of this and try institute a similar program, albeit to a much less successful degree. scar, however, cannot let that stand.

grian also cannot let that stand, but this is more due to martyn coming over every day during his lunch break and annoying grian by telling increasingly convoluted jokes all ending with a punchline relating to the mcdonald's broken ice cream machine.

so that afternoon grian and scar pay the burger king a visit. scar goes up to the front counter and gives ren and martyn the longest sales pitch of his life, something about cereal, and while they're distracted grain climbs through the drive through window and smashes their ice cream machine with a baseball bat.

that's the beginning of the end.

ren takes the attack way too personally. he gets naked, makes martyn crown him with a shitty cardboard crown, dubs himself the burger king, and declares war on the mcdonalds.

he and martyn set out to recruit for their army amongst the rest of their friends in the area to varying degrees of success. they first go to visit joel in his art shop, but quickly decide to leave after the first thing they hear upon walking in is a conversation in the back room in which someone appears to be blackmailing joel over something in the basement.

they decide to try impulse and tango down at the arcade, and both of them are so confused by ren's sales pitch they just agree to make him go away (they do the same thing when scar and grian visit them a few hours later).

ren and martyn's visit to the white castle is the worst yet. instead of walking in and recruiting bdubs and cleo with their impassioned speech and thirst for justice, the burger king and his hand walk into an active warzone.

there's smoke everywhere. bdubs is screaming. martyn swears he hears a gun go off. cleo is cackling. someone runs past them entirely engulfed in flames. as ren and martyn make a hasty retreat etho cheerfully greets them from his seat on a bench outside the building, tinkering with something that looks suspiciously like a pipe bomb.

they decide to take a break from recruiting after that.

meanwhile, scar and grian have been busy. they've recruited jimmy and scott from the florists down the road to launch a yelp smear campaign against the burger king, tanking them from a respectable 3.8 stars to 1 star in an afternoon. to a normal human being, this would mean nothing, but they text a screenshot of this to martyn and ren with the caption 'this u?'

martyn and ren have never once reacted to anything normally or proportionality in their life.

skizz, one of their regulars, also takes great offense to this. he insists that this is a devastating blow against the burger king's honor, and vows to get revenge.

no one's sure exactly how he does it, but within an hour he manages to trace one of the bad reviews back to jimmy and promptly doxes him, getting him fired due to the content of his surprisingly popular google+ account.

scar and grian, after laughing hysterically for an hour over the fact that jimmy was a google+ influencer, continue their reign of terror over the burger king by taking a selfie of them next to the burger king drive through menu, which they somehow have relocated to the roof of the mcdonalds.

it's the last straw for ren.

decked out in a red cape made of the burger king curtains and armed with a spatula and the fury of a thousands suns, ren marches across the street to the mcdonalds and challenges scar and grian to a winner-takes-all duel.

a crowd begins to gather, with nearly everybody grian knows save for the people involved in what has been dubbed the white castle war, forming a loose arch behind ren and martyn as they begin to chant for a fight.

grian and scar, who came outside to see what all the commotion was about, both predictably panic at the sight of two men in capes charging towards them backed by a crowd chanting for blood. grian tries to claw his way back up the roof while scar, possessed by the spirit of apollo, does the only thing he can and chucks a potato at ren's head.

that potato hits ren square in the forehead and knocks him out cold.

the crowd goes silent.

martyn, thinking ren is dead, drops to his knees and cradles his unconscious body close to his chest and dramatically confesses his everlasting love, vowing to never leave ren's side and to never stop spreading the tale of ren's 'grey long and strong' bits.

grian, upon witnessing this, realizes to his abject horror that he also has gay feelings for his manager.

he has no idea what to do with these feelings, and the crowd is still chanting fight, and he's experienced a lot of stress and unexpected emotions in the last five minutes, so he really can't be blamed when he turns on his heel and punches scar in the face.

scar, surprised but absolutely willing to go along with it, punches grian back, and they begin beating the shit out of each other in the most pathetic fist fight a mcdonalds parking lot has ever witnessed.

meanwhile, there's police cars and fire trucks with sirens on speeding down the road past them, and someone in the crowd realizes 'oh shit are those all going to the white castle?'

so the crowd immediately abandons the world's worst fight to go see what the hell has been going down in the white castle.

it takes a bit, but, with martyn still confessing his love and sobbing over ren's unconscious body, grian finally manages to land a lucky hit and knocks scar out, sending him crumpling to the ground. for the second time that day, grian realizes with horror what he's done, and frantically tries to run to get a medic only to trip over scar's unconscious body and knock himself out as well.

The headline of the local newspaper the next morning reads as follows:

...anyone wanna ask me about my last life mall au

#this is the new dumbest thing ive ever written #anyway thanks for asking. so sorry to inflict this on you #i had to cut so many scenes from this bc it was just too long so if there's any characters or scenes youre curious about hmu #more specifically: Ask Me About The White Castle Pipe Bomb C Plot #shoutout to lew for helping me plot this out. ill never forget u #third life #desert duo #renchanting #grian #gtws #renthedog #martyn inthelittlewood #cats words

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mydarlingbat · 21 days

Text

I freaking love this issue so freaking much. The whole concept of Batman Europa is absolutely amazing. It's fun. It's worth the read. Lets just point out that Batman has called the Joker his partner at the very beginning of Batman Europa #2 which leads me back to what I was saying in the relationship between Batman and Joker, that Batman always acknowledge that they're partners. Moreover Batman tries to pick a fight with the Joker while he's just talking to him. I mean give the man a break. He's not even trying to hurt Batman in this comic. He's behaving himself reasonably well, although we can't ignore the reality of Batman allowing the Joker to prefer himself as Batman's sidekick too.

Now when he grasps the Joker's arm. We know it's not a firm grip. The Joker easily jerk his arm back, and then Batman reaches over to grab for his hand possibly again? Though he doesn't get to say anything else, because Nina interrupts them. I do feel like Batman needs to feel like their some Kind of contempt between the two of them, or a little disputing to feel like it's their usually pattern. It's their dance. He doesn't like to see this side of the Joker, and especially have to acknowledge it. The way the Joker keep informing to Bruce that they'll die together, and Batman doesn't even want to hear that. It got me laughing so much.

Batman complimenting how fast the Joker is in this panel is just life. If that clown can move that fast you know he could have killed Batman, and he's infected too.

Now the Joker just murder someone again, and Batman still works with him after this! And on top of that Batman trusts him? Like how???

Batman doesn't even sound mad that the Joker just murdered someone? I mean he's actually just like yeah, let's finish up this journey. He doesn't even mention it later in the comic.

Batman thought he was going to die, but the Joker saves his life, and he doesn't exactly want to acknowledge it, but he does anyways.

I just love this page. The Joker eyes are to the side, like he's not exactly sure how to function right now. He doesn't know how to fit this into their relationship. I mean I love it. The awkwardness that's establish between both of them is so obvious. I can't stress enough of how much I admire this page. The way Batman doesn't even want to look at the Joker. Oh my god the way the Joker refuse to look at the Batman for a little while. The tension is thick. Batman's 'shut up' line is practically for the Joker when he says something true or something plain stupid. Batman constantly says shut up when the Joker says things about Batman caring about him, but the Joker tells Batman he loves him all the time, and Batman doesn't say shut up. I don't want to hear that, but Batman denies his own feelings towards him, so Batman despises the mention of him caring about the Joker. He tries to shut it down rather quickly. Batman and Joker feel the need to lay out some sort hostility, when they're not doing their usual routine, so the Joker tells Batman he regrets saving him. He's not happy about it. That makes the tension between them settle down a bit, but right after this the Joker saves Batman once again in Batman Europa #3 The Joker also immediately jumps back to Nina, to avert the attention somewhere else, which works.

Batman still isn't exactly ready to look at the Joker, but the Joker goes over to have a conversation with Batman. Batman responds hostile as always, but Batman doesn't deny the Joker request exactly. He just reminds the Joker that they're dying, and the way the Joker gently and cautiously rests his hand on Batman's shoulder, making sure he's alright with him touching him right now is adorable and actually is nice.

The fact that the Joker has to turn around to say those sweet words to the Batman. Let's me know they're not too familiar with this kind of thing.

Batman now is comfortable enough to let the Joker freely touch him again. Batman doesn't deny it. He also doesn't inform to the Joker that they will never be friends, because deep down Batman knows that the Joker is his friend. It's just my opinion.

#batjokes #batman and joker #comics #batman #batman x joker #comic books #dc comics #the joker #batmm #dcedit #words

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bas-writes · 3 months

Text

your blind date is waiting for you...

A suitor is awaiting for @stuckinthewrongworld who as her dream date wanted to go to the beach. I hope you will spend lovely time together!

female reader | ~850 words | modern AU

Your date isn't really the type of guy who holds all his thoughts and emotions on a silver plate. You know him for quite a long time now and he still remains one big mystery—big enough for you to wonder at times if you actually know the guy you're seeing. It weirdly suits him and after a few attempts to solve him, you've grown to accept that it's just his nature and that you won't be able to look through him even after decades.

That's why you're not entirely sure where you two are heading until the very last moment, when the crowded bus you're taking finally reaches the coast and continues its journey along the shore. Until it reaches the final stop, you remain right by the window, your face almost plastered to it as you're swallowing the views, impatient and excited. Thinking back, you did mention you would love to go to a beach again, but the topic seemed to die right as it started, immediately forgotten by your always busy boyfriend.

You must give him that credit, his attention to detail and good memory far exceeds your own. And he knows how to utilize them to bring the best out of surprises he has for you.

Law helps you get off the bus and, still holding your hand, such a pleasant change after his usual, dry, and reserved, approach to public physical demonstrations of affection, leads you away from the public beach, place where the crushing majority of the crowd moves. It's too cold for a proper beach day and you haven't taken the right equipment anyway, so you don't mind, trusting the surprise still unfolding. He clearly has the spot in mind, your part of the act is to follow his guidance and enjoy the views on the way.

When he finally decides to get down from the boulevard, you two are almost alone. The extreme introvert he is, Law feels the most relaxed and confident when there's no one gazing at his back—and indeed, his approach changes fast in comparison to his behavior on the bus and earlier, when you made your way through the city. His face is so serene he almost doesn't seem himself. It's unfair you must divide your attention between this spectacular sight and the sea you've waited for so long to see.

Law sits straight on the stairs to undo his shoes and roll his jeans up, then insists for you to lean against him, so you could deal with your sneakers and socks without getting your pants dusty. Sand under your bare feet might not be hot but it's still quite hard to walk, even with the help of his arm keeping your balance in check. It feels awkward at first, to depend physically so much on him. Neither of you are used to it but you refuse to let go once you've wrapped your arm around his elbow and let him control the pacing. From afar you might look like an older couple and the thought of it almost has you giggling. You bite it back—though, looking at a faint smile tugging at his lips, you kind of regret restraining yourself. You usually do so around him when you feel you don't have a good reason for laughing. When you have no explanation for your behavior, he seems to be lost whenever you do so, and as he has never given you even the faintest suggestion that he prefers you not giggling, the atmosphere tends to turn awkward when he can't find logical reason for your behavior, and then you both need to work your way around it. You don't want to interrupt a date that's already unrolling so well.

But who knows, maybe today you could be able to make him laugh?

The wind tugs at your clothes as you slowly wander along the shore. Despite the weather, the sea itself is not cold, so you let the waves lick at your calves. Your pantlegs, even if rolled up, are soon soaked at the bottom, but neither of you tries to move to the safer part of the beach.

"I even like the weather but...I wouldn't really call it a good one for a date," you muse as a particularly high wave forces you to jump away and Law curses at some of the splash reaching his hoodie. "Why today?"

He doesn't answer until you reach a puddle of algae and other sea trash. He leans down and digs through it, still shielding you from the waves, but focusing mostly on his task, until he finally finds what he's been looking for: a few colorful seashells hidden in the wet debris.

"Yesterday's storm must have thrown a lot of treasures all over the beach." He carefully pours them into your palm. "We might even find some amber."

Hand still wet, Law traces the line of your collarbone, then the curve of your neck towards your chin. He tilts your head slightly to the back, your eyes meet and you almost gasp at the amount of warmth and love you find in his as he leans close to speak against your lips before kissing you, "I'd love to make a seashell necklace for you."

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law imagine #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #bas writes #op #trafalgar law #blind dates #female reader

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sinsandsweetness · 9 months

Note

Good morning beaut! 🧸🥺

I'm loving. your fics <3

Could I possibly have a stepdad! rick x plus size! female reader <3

I do have some more stepdad!rick in the works but here’s a little something for u in the meantime, my love <3

18+ under the cut

The wet kisses on your inner thighs send butterflies right to your core. Painted fingernails already tangled in his hickory curls. Your back arches off the bed as Rick’s lips make their way up and down your body. Kissing every inch of your tummy, your hips and your panties. Pretty, pink lace, hugging every curve so delicately, leaving very little to the imagination. And no matter how much you whine and beg, he refuses to take them off.

“They’re just so pretty, baby. Wouldn’t want to let ‘em go to waste, would you?” He mumbles into your thigh, eyes fluttering shut as he goes to suck a dark hickey into your flesh.

“Ugh,” you groan. The grip on his hair, tightening in frustration.

You don’t really care if they go to waste or not. You’re soaking through the damn fabric at this point. Every feather light touch is heightened from the hour of teasing you’re being forced to endure. Rick having taken full advantage of the fact he has you to himself for the weekend. Your mom is on a two day trip to Oceanside with a few other women from the community, some kind of self defense workshop that Rosita was putting on. Whatever. You didn’t care. Staying home with your stepdad sounded a hell of a lot more fun.

And in this moment, despite what feels like some kind of never ending torture, you’re absolutely right. It is fun. Rick mouthing at your cunt, over the lace of your panties, his tongue only further dampening the arousal coated lace in between your legs. He rarely gets to take his time with you, and though he feels like he’s savouring the moment by prolonging your orgasm, you want nothing more then for him to rip the lace off your body and eat you out until you scream his name.

You’re whines must be getting your hint across because he speeds up his pace a little. Which you make sure to thank him for with a drawn out moan of his name. It helps that his skilled tongue knows exactly where you’re sensitive bundle of nerves is pulsing for him. Begging for his attention. And you’re more than a little shocked at how fast your orgasm is actually building, given that fact that he still hasn’t taken the pretty panties off yet. The friction of the lace against your clit is different. Stimulating you in a way you aren’t familiar with. Wet lace rubbing up and down your cunt as he eats you out through your panties.

But before you know it, you’re legs are coming in on his head like a pair of earmuffs, head shooting off the bed as you gasp for air. He keeps going, nose grinding against your clit while his grip tightens around the fat of your thighs. Tummy twitching and legs shaking from the intensity of the climax.

When he comes up for a kiss, you can taste your cum on his lips. He pushes your legs open and positions himself between them. Hooking a finger under the soaking fabric, pulling them to the side and lining himself up. Immediately smirking when you start to whine,

“Really? Just take em’ off, Rick. Please.”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at your attitude. His hand comes up and squishes your cheeks, forcing you to look right at him.

His voice is low, and his stormy eyes darken. Suddenly, you start to regret giving him any attitude.

“Maybe I should gag you with em’, huh. That’d quit your whining, wouldn’t it? Why can’t you just be grateful and take it like a good girl?”

Yeah, you definitely regret giving him that attitude. And unfortunately, you’re almost positive that no amount of “I’m sorry, daddy. I’ll be good, daddy,”s will be enough to dodge the bullet that you’re about to get hit with. But hey, it’s worth a shot, right?

#rick grimes smut #Rick grimes x reader #Rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes fic #rick imagine #rick Drabble #rick one shot #stepdad!rick #rick daydream #rick grimes x plus size reader #T’s daydreams <3

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filthyjoetini · 6 months

Text

Stumblin' In

a/n: Hello loves! I'm back! And this time I've pre written 3/4 of a story...who is she?! I don't know her. Soooo...this little story will have four parts and is (very) loosely based on something that happened in Venice when I saw Joe...(still not over it tbh...heh). Thank you to my warrior editor and influence for this story @barfightzanddiscolightz. <3

warnings: none

wordcount: 1.9k (she's short)

part 2 - part 3 - part 4

You blinked rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the brightness that suddenly overtook the previously dimly lit screening room of the cinema you were sitting in. Your brain just wasn't made for such quick changes, especially while it was still processing what had just happened on screen. The film you had chosen to watch was one of those arthouse indie productions that attracts all kinds of people from all walks of life.

Slowly you pushed yourself out of the plush seat and stretched your arms over your head. Your ever-weary limbs and joints popped, and you feared that one of the at least 50 other people in the room had heard it.

Taking your time, you picked up your trusty leather jacket, which had once belonged to your father, and pulled it on. You shoved your hands into its pockets to retrieve your mobile phone. As you checked your unread messages, your eyes moved from the screen to your Dr. Martens-clad feet. You had undone the laces, wanting to be as comfortable as possible. Shrugging, you began to walk down the aisle, the laces whipping your jeans-covered calves, shins, and other seats along the way. You told yourself you would tie them once you had reached the atrium.

With your face almost buried in the screen of your phone, you stepped to the top of the stairs and began your descent. Not even three steps down, you stumbled over your now tangled shoelaces and instantly lost your footing. With a small yelp, you practically flew down the stairs, right into the back of someone's legs. The abrupt stop sent your phone flying down the hallway and past the curtain, as your head snapped back, slamming into the steps. The impact made your breath catch in your lungs and you let out a small whimper.

"Oh my God! Are you alright?"

With blurred vision and eyes refusing to cooperate, you tried to make out who was speaking to you. You knew it was a man from the voice, but his features were a mystery in the blur. Your eyes not working the way you wanted them to made you let out a frustrated sigh. You began slowly blinking your eyes, hoping for a clearer perspective, before giving up and closing them completely.

"Hey! No! Open your eyes!"

You sluggishly opened them again, your vision still as blurred as before. Lifting your arm, you tried to touch the man hovering above you. The movement sent a jolting pain through your arm, up your neck, and into the back of your head.

"Ouch.", you hissed.

"'Yeah, ouch.”, replied the still blurry man. "Please focus on me, can you do that for me?"

"Yep.", you lied. You couldn't focus on shit, because in addition to your blurred vision, your head was throbbing like you'd been hit by a freight train.

"Okay. Cool. You hit your head pretty hard. Can you move your legs?"

You made slow, jerky movements with your legs, wiggling your toes in your boots, not realising he couldn't see them.

"Okay. They work. Good! That means, no spinal injury.”, the man said, obviously relieved. "I'm going to move you now, is that alright?"

You nodded and immediately regretted it. Your head hurt like hell. How could a carpeted step hurt so much?

Warm hands slowly pushed under your arms and knees and then suddenly, but slowly, strong arms lifted you up and close to an even warmer body. As gentle as he was, the movement of your body was still very uncomfortable and made you whimper again.

"I know. I'm sorry.”, the man who was now walking spoke softly. As you both passed through the curtain into the even brighter hallway, you turned your head towards the man's chest to avoid the glaring overhead lights. You pressed your face into the fabric of his top and inhaled deeply. He smelled damn good.

"...is there a room I can take her to? She hit her head on the stairs when she fell. Also, could you call the A&E, I think she has a concussion."

"Sure, follow me please.”, a new feminine voice said and then there was a static crackle. "Henry, can you please call A&E, we have an injured woman with a suspected concussion."

"Copy. A&E is being called.”, came back Henry's very staticky voice over what you assumed was a walkie-talkie.

A few moments later you heard a door open and were carried very carefully into a small, office-like room.

"You can put her on the sofa. The paramedics will be here any minute."

Gently you were lowered onto the sofa. Gone were the strong arms and the warmth, and you began to shiver. Your eyes slowly began to focus, and you could finally see, though still blurred, the man who had been helping you. He was tall and handsome. His dark blonde hair was curly, and his face had a very patchy five o'clock shadow. But the most striking thing about his face was his huge, baby cow eyes, which were currently wearing a worried expression. Your gaze moved slowly down his body. He was wearing brown trousers with black loafers and a beige cable-knit jumper, topped off with a very expensive looking black trench coat. Visually, he was the exact opposite of you. You had opted for your usual all-black autumn outfit.

With a small but noticeable smile, you closed your eyes for a second and another shiver ran through your body. Unexpectedly, you were suddenly covered by a blanket. Slowly you opened your eyes to see that it wasn't a blanket, but the man's trench coat.

"Thank you...", you whispered. You were surprised at how weak your voice sounded, but the drowsiness that was slowly creeping up on you made it difficult to speak. Your eyes closed again.

"You're welcome...hey! No! Don't fall asleep!"

"But I'm so sleepy."

"I know, but you can't."

The man's voice was very close now, and as you felt hands cupping your face, your eyes shot open again. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was kneeling beside the sofa and his own eyes held yours in an equally steady gaze.

“You literally can’t fall asleep because you took quite the tumble there, Humpty Dumpty and I’m 99 percent sure you incurred a concussion.”, he explained with a grin. "Besides, you keep moving your head when you should be holding it still. If I have to hold your face to keep you awake and mostly still, I will gladly continue holding it."

You didn't respond to him. You just kept staring at him and he had the audacity to just stare back at you with his big, wet, brown puppy dog eyes.

A few moments later there was a knock on the door and two paramedics with a stretcher made their way inside.

"Hello there! You must be our patient.”, one of the paramedics said as he made his way over to you. He then looked down at Mr. Baby-Cow-Puppy-Eyes and spoke again. "Sir, may I ask you to move so we can examine her?"

"Uh... sure.”, he replied, taking his hands off your face, slowly rising to his feet. You groaned weakly as his fingers lightly brushed your jaw and he let out a soft snort before turning to the medic. "I was just trying to keep her awake. She fell down the stairs and hit her head on one of the bottom steps."

"Thank you.”, the second paramedic said, moving in to examine your head and neck. Your rescuer stepped back and moved to the corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest to wait. He was still in your line of sight, so you looked at him occasionally to make sure he was still there, and every time you did, he smiled sweetly at you.

"Ooookay.", the second paramedic said as soon as she concluded her examination. "You have a mild to moderate concussion and swelling on the back of your head. We need to take you to the hospital for a 24-hour observation."

You frowned at her, and she smiled sympathetically. "Do you want your boyfriend to come with us?"

"Who?" you asked, a confused expression on your face.

"Him.”, she said, pointing to the corner where your knight in a cable-knit jumper was standing.

"I'm not her boyfriend. I'm the one she collided with.”, he chuckled and shook his head.

"Alright, I'll take that as a no.”, the paramedic grinned at him and then down at you. "Are you ready to be hoisted onto the stretcher?"

"Um...", you started, then suddenly panicked as you softly patted your jacket and jeans pockets. Your mobile phone - you didn't have it on you. "Wait! My phone! It must have slipped out of my hand or pockets when I went all humanoid egg earlier..."

Your reference to the handsome man's earlier statement made him burst out into laughter.

"She hasn't lost her sense of humour. Good.”, the first paramedic said with a chuckle, and began to lift you up by your feet, while the other paramedic assisted him by simultaneously lifting you up by your torso. The coat that still covered you was about to slip off your body if you hadn't grabbed it as if it were your lifeline. In a way it was your lifeline, for you were still cold, and the weight of the fabric did an excellent job of keeping you warm.

"I'll go look for it. Just give me a second.”, expensive trench coat guy announced, and quickly slipped out of the room.

Not even five minutes later he returned, waving your mobile phone in the air.

"Here you go.”, he smiled, handing you the phone but not letting go of it. "Please keep me informed about your condition." Just as he started to remove his hand from your phone, he added: "And you can keep my coat for now, but I want it back at some point."

"OK. I will, and you'll get it back... at some point.”, you promised, as the two paramedics wheeled you out of the small room. Halfway down the hallway you suddenly realised that you didn't have his contact details. How were you going to let him know how you were?

"Wait! Stop!", you shouted, making yourself jump more than the two people you were addressing. "Can you please turn around?"

"All right, but just for a second. We really need to get you to the hospital.”, the male paramedic explained impatiently, and they both turned the stretcher around and were about to push you back when you saw him standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"I don't have your number!", you called, waving your mobile.

"Check your contacts.”, he urged with a wink, before pushing himself away from the wall and walking the other way. "Keep me updated!"

"I will!"

The two paramedics turned the stretcher around again and began to push it hastily towards the cinema's delivery entrance where the ambulance was parked. All the while, you unlocked your phone to see if he had really left you his number. He had to have. How else would he get his coat back?

Quickly, you opened your contacts app and there it was: a new entry.

Next to the emoji with the bandage on its head was his name:

Joe.

Grinning to yourself, you locked your phone and put it to your chest as the ambulance sped off to the hospital...

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @littledemon-lilith @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @miserybeans @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @captainonaboat @josephquinnsfreckles @emilyslutface @alessxaa

crossed out = couldn't tag

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn fanfiction #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x y/n #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #rpf #rpf fanfiction #rpf fic #Stumblin' In

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everydayyoulovemeless · 10 months

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any thoughts on how companions (dlc included) would react to a kid sole survivor? like if shaun was their baby brother and nate+nora were their parents?

Fo4 Companions With A Child!Sole

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » None

MacCready doesn't know what to do when he sees a kid walk straight into the Third Rail with nothing but a vault suit and a weapon they surely don't know how to properly use strapped to their side. He'll go up to you before you even get the chance to do anything else in here. He's so worried that someone in Goodneighbor will try to get you hooked on something, so he'll take you straight to Diamond City, even if he hates most of the people there. You remind him of himself when he was that age and he wants to make sure you don't do anything you might end up regretting. He almost adopts you in a way, never really leaving your side out of fear that you'll get hurt. MacCready will do whatever he can to help you reunite with your brother and will be on your side no matter what ends up happening.

Nick feels awful for you. You've lost everything yet here you are trying to gain some semblance of it back. He can't help but want to try and give you some kind of closure for everything you've gone through and will drop everything to try and track down Shaun with you. He's careful with his word choice as he doesn't want you to loose all hope, but he'll tell you the truth if leads end up empty or if there's nothing more he can really do. Nick's not going to lie and tell you everything will be okay, but he will tell you that he'll be there to help you feel better when everything is said and done, no matter how it all plays out.

Cait hates the idea of traveling with a kid, she's so scared that you'll end up like her. She'll do her best to be as closed off as she possibly can so none of her personality rubs off on you, and then she'll take you to an area safer than the combat zone. She doesn't care where it is, as long as you end up in the care of literally anyone else. After that, she'll leave and you'll never see her again.

Danse would immediately take you under his wing and train you to be a soldier. He wouldn't want to shelter you in any way, instead, he'd try to teach you survival and how to live out here in the waste. It'll almost feel like you're in the boy scouts as he'll teach you how to tie knots and make knives and whatnot. He'd hate if you ended up being swayed by the wrong people, or worse, if you ended up dead. He's constantly reassuring you about finding your brother and with the Brotherhood's help, you'll have nothing to worry about.

Preston would be quick to add you to the Quincy group. Something about you being so young and so determined makes him feel all sorts of ways. He's so incredibly appreciative you came along, although, he refuses to make you general, if anything, he'd just promote himself to that position while he takes care of you. Him and Sturges would teach you how to use a hammer so you could aid with rebuilding some of the settlements, but also to just give you a distraction from everything you experienced in the vault. Preston will be super understanding and kind toward you, and the Quincy survivors will begin to feel like the family you never got to grow up with.

Codsworth feels dreadful when he sees you walk down from the vault all cut up and bruised... and alone. He cleans you up and puts you down to sleep. Now that you have no parents he feels that it's his duty to fill that missing role for you and will constantly be doting on you just like your mother would. He finds it so noble that you want to find where your brother was taken and will do everything he can to ensure that you stay healthy enough to be able to continue forward, even if sometimes he struggles to find anything non-irradiated for you to eat.

Piper will be like an older sister to you, giving you a bedtime and occasionally making you attend the school in Diamond City. She's even more determined to get security to start looking into synths and the Institute when she hears you're story and will look into it more deeply while you're in class or busy hanging around Nick. She doesn't care that you're a kid or that this isn't the world you're used to, she's still prepared to defend you and have your voice be listened too.

Curie thinks it's amazing that you've come so far with next to nothing. Her Miss Nanny instincts make her want to travel with you if nothing else than to keep you safe. I don't think she'd have too much of a concept of how dangerous it is for a kid to be wandering around in a wasteland and would probably just treat it as any other normal day. You and her would learn a lot together as you wandered the Commonwealth and it'd probably be the most wholesome pairing on this list as you both still hold that childlike wonder and curiosity.

Strong thinks you're a good enough leader for making it all the way to the top of Trinity Tower with your size, and would agree to follow you just the same as if you were an adult. He thinks your goal in finding your brother is dumb and useless, saying something like "Won't find, Shaun most likely dead". He's got no remorse and if you ever cried in front of him he'd start insulting you. Nonetheless, he'll try to raise you as a mutant and convince you to start doing more mutant-like things. Someone would have to step in and get you or you'd grow up to be a cannibal.

Hancock freezes when he sees a child walking around Goodneighbor. This place isn't for you and he'll go up to you, take your hand, and lead you up to the Old State House to question you about why you're here and where you're parents are. He'll escort you over to Diamond City and hand you off to Nick. He knows he's a bad influence and would rather you be with someone who can actually help you with you're case rather than drifting around in Goodneighbor where anyone could snatch you.

Deacon hates that you joined the Railroad. It just isn’t the place for a kid to be around and he’d rather hand you off to any of the other companions, however, he can’t help but think of how good a kid spy would be or how badly he's always wanted to raise a kid. He’ll try to shelter you and keep you away from violence as best he can while also telling you jokes and teasing you about being the “youngest looking 200 year old” he’s ever seen. He has mixed feelings on it, but he does end up teaching you how to lie really well and get away with things you normally wouldn’t have. Deacon loves having you around, but he can’t help but feel you don’t belong in an environment like this and will almost certainly hand you off to someone else if he feels that it's beginning to get too overwhelming.

X6-88 isn't all too sure how to feel. He's not sure how you managed to make it all the way to the Institute, and he isn't sure why Father would just release you from the vault with nothing going for you. He thinks it's incredibly admirable of you to care so much about your brother and has high respect for you even if you're just a kid. He'll ensure that you'll never have to scavenge for food or water or any other resource ever again. Everything will be taken care of by him and he will make sure that you're 100% safe if you continue traveling the wasteland.

Dogmeat will be slightly more protective over you, sticking closer by your side as you wander around. Sometimes he'll even bite your shirt and drag you into some bushes to avoid a swarm of mutants or raiders. Besides that, nothing will really change with him.

Old Longfellow doesn't know why you keep hanging around him, but he doesn't mind all that much. He'll buy you some apple juice or something while you sit with him in the bar maybe even a sip of his beer and just listen to all your tales and stories of the Commonwealth. He'd end up just accepting that you probably won't leave him alone and just escort you to wherever you want. He might even take you on a boat and teach you how to fish if he likes you enough. One thing you can trust when traveling with him is that he'd never let anyone on the island take advantage of your young age or naivety. He's constantly on the lookout for anyone who might want to influence you in a certain way and will quickly put an end it if he sees it happening.

Gage can't help but laugh at his own expense when he sees a kid walk out of the Gauntlet and into the Cola-Cars Arena. How the two of you seemed to end up in the worst situations will always be funny to him and he hated that he had to be the one to announce you as the Overboss to everyone else in the park. He already knows Nisha is going to tear his throat out when she hears the news. He doesn't really expect you to live for very long and thinks you even being here is an absolute joke, but he'll treat you like he'd treat any other Overboss and would be amazed if you actually got the power working again. In fact, all of the other gang leaders would be. It'd almost be like having a bunch of older siblings defending you at every turn.

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