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acey-wacey · 1 year

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Hi hi! Could I order a scenario of how Jade and Floyd would react to MC hiding behind them because they’re being chased by bullies?? Maybe grabbing onto the tweels (о´∀`о)

I like to think they’d be surprised of someone hiding BEHIND them instead of FROM them lol..

I'm a sucker for platonic tweels! This is my lifeline rn!!

...

Shrimpy Protection Agency

Three of the more troublesome NRC seniors decided that they weren't too pleased with all the attention you were getting, having been in Twisted Wonderland for only a few months.

The students decided to corner you in the hallway, much to your surprise and demand that you apologize for the trouble you've stirred up.

When you refused, they accused you of being disrespectful and threatened to hurt you if you didn't start respecting your upperclassmen.

Through your fear, you managed to slip between the students and make a break for it.

You knew they were older, stronger, and faster than you so you wouldn't be able to outrun them.

Your only hope was to hide.

You frantically searched for a place to hide as you sprinted into the courtyard.

You were hoping someone would be there to stop the upperclassmen from pummeling you but it was empty.

No, not empty.

On the very far side of the courtyard, hidden in the shadows, the Leech twins stood, both looking mildly bored.

"Jade! Floyd!"

They both perked up upon hearing your voice.

What was excitement to see you, quickly became confusion as you ran to them and wrapped your arms around Floyd's torso from the back, shielding yourself from your pursuers.

Jade almost never showed his emotions on his face which made it all the more terrifying when his expression darkened as the bullies followed you to the courtyard.

All three of them stopped in their tracks when they saw the intimidating look on Jade's face, worsened by the wide-eyed and manic Floyd.

It wasn't usual to see either of them, especially Jade, without their signature customer service smile on, even when threatening someone, but when it came to you, there wasn't any pleasantry.

They didn't even try to pretend like your bullies weren't in danger.

"I will give you 5 seconds of silence before I begin my pursuit," whispered Jade, though the attackers heard him loud and clear in the echoey silence of the courtyard.

The one that appeared to be the leader scoffed and nervously chuckled.

"You're just a second-year. I'm not afraid of you. And I sure as he11 wouldn't need a headstart."

"Oh, you misunderstand," Floyd laughed, his eyes still crazed. "Five seconds wouldn't help you for a headstart. We're giving you a chance to pray to every God who'll bother to listen to a pathetic bottom-feeder like you."

"You're monsters!" one of the goons screeched after a few seconds of listening to their panicked breathing. Both twins just smiled in the same unsettling form.

"That bridge was burned a lot time ago, my friend," Jade chuckled menacingly before he went back to staring into the bullies' souls. "5."

"Listen, dude! We were just messing around!"

"4."

"Okay, you're seriously starting to freak me out!"

"Better get on that praying then. 3."

"I'm gonna... tell the headmaster!"

"Oh, I'm so scared. 2."

"Guys, let's get out of here!"

"That little shrimp isn't worth this."

"Only I get to call them that!" Floyd screamed after the goons as they stumbled over themselves to get away.

You could hear the bullies leaving but you still slayed firmly attached to Floyd.

"I'm a touch offended you didn't latch into me that way. Do you trust Floyd more than me?"

You looked up to see Jade smirking at you with his usual calm composure, much opposed to his "predator mode".

"I'm sorry," you sniffled, though you all knew you didn't really mean it. "Next time, I'll hide behind you instead."

"Oh, no, no, no, Shrimpy," Floyd glared at you. You could tell it wasn't directed at you specifically but it was still intimidating. "There's not going to be a next time."

"At least we can agree on that note, brother dearest," Jade mused, brushing a hair behind your ear. "We'll make sure no one will ever mess with you again, Y/N."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, that's a secret," Jade put a finger to his lips and you could see the angry fire behind his eyes.

"You can hug me anytime you want though, Shrimpy!" Floyd chimed in cheerily. You laughed and leaned into his chest.

"Thank you so much. I don't know what I would've done with out you," you sighed and grabbed Jade's hand, tugging him into a group hug. "I love you. Both of you."

Jade wasn't usually particularly affection and Floyd didn't often practice restraint but both of them cared enough about you to just smother you in a brotherly hug, as long as it will make you happy.

Jade and Floyd made eye contact over your shoulder, making a silent agreement to break every bone in your bullies' bodies and make it look like an accident.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #jade leech x reader #jade leech x platonic! reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x platonic! reader #leech twins

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beneatheaven · 6 months

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friends with benefits with soobin

lowercase intended, 1,512 words, haven’t proof read

smut under cut, minors do not interact

another weekend just hanging out at a friends house. this was a more chill and quiet house party. people entering in and out of the house to the backyard, the comfort in seeing your close friends and catching up with them after a week of stressful classes.

what you didn't expect was to see soobin talking to another girl.

not that either of you were exclusive, you just messed around with each other.. a lot. to the point were you both promised each other, this would just between the two of you. he didn't like the thought of you sucking another guys dick, and you didn't like the thought of kissing other girls. so to say you were jealous, was putting it very lightly.

he knew this would hurt you, just seeing him next to another girl, so maybe you were being too possessive, not that he's ever had a problem with that in bed. that was until she leaned in closer to whisper something in his ear, and he flashed a smile at her.

it made your blood boil, what did she say? and what does she want from him. he was yours, kind of, right? running out to the backyard to get away from the sight. it was starting to get too overstimulating with the overthinking.

taking a seat on one of the couple of chairs sprawled outside, taking some time to yourself thinking if any of this was worth it. the idea of you two dating has come up in conversation before. but you had to jump in and say you were too busy for anything serious at the moment. the reality was that, you felt like you weren't good enough for him.

the sound of the sliding door opening and footsteps getting closer to you had broken you out of your thoughts. turning your head to see who had came out, it was soobin. "hey it looked like something happened, are you okay?" he said while coming by to sit to a chair next to you.

"i'm fine, but looks like you were getting comfortable over there." the tone in your voice, he could pick up that you were upset at him. "y/n it's not like that, we were just getting to know each other." his hand finding yours to hold. trying to comfort you, what he did best.

"maybe you can get to know each other some more alone.." you couldn't look at him in the eyes, you felt so frustrated. "i promised you i wouldn't do that with anyone else, you remember right?" nodding your head, he was so patient with you, you didn't deserve him.

"i remember, i'm sorry i just got.. upset." he let out a quiet laugh, he was just so cute. "aw my girl got jealous didn't she?" he leaned into you to whisper "you'll always be my girl." he said as he left small kisses on your neck. he always called you that, and you never had a problem with it, even with the terms you were on.

your heart ached for him, and he felt the same way, he just wanted you to be ready. he didn't want to scare you by coming off to strong or mess up and lose you. maybe it was time to let go and be ready for him. "yes i'll always be yours." turning to him and sharing a sweet kiss.

kissing him felt so sweet and meant to be, there couldn't be anyone else for either of you. bringing your hands up to his face to hold him and deepen the kiss. he reciprocates with his hand finding it's way to your waist. whining into your mouth at the way you pull at his hair slightly, bitting down onto your bottom lip.

"did you miss me baby?" looking at you with hooded eyes "i always miss you." whimpering at him. "don't want anyone else but you soobin, please be mine." a small smile appears on his face. "do you really mean that?" his touch on your waist became softer. "yes, i'm so sorry for making you wait." "i'd wait forever if that's it took." he said immediately. your chest ached at how he made you feel so loved. leaning into kiss him again, your favorite thing ever.

"god i want you so bad, confessing really does something to you doesn't it?" giggling at his words. "we can't do it here everyone is gonna hear." you said as he peppered kisses from your neck up to your ear. "hmm you know how you always wanted to try pubic sex?" whispering into your ear. "mm very briefly, and it'd still be very obvious to everyone."

he started looking around the back yard, anywhere to hide or sneak behind. his eyes landing on a ladder still propped up to head onto the rooftop. there was a flat area, he knew what the next step was. "look, we can go up there." you turned your head to where his focus was. "are you serious?" questioning his thoughts right now. "let me just taste you, and i can take you to my place after for some more..privacy, promise." giving you a quick kiss on your lips. "okay, but just because i know you'll keep your promise."

both of you stood up and made your way over. he helped you get onto the roof smoothly. almost scared you were going to fall off but he held onto your hands tightly. he took off his sweater for you to lay on. making sure this experience was comfortable for you. once he had you under him, he went in to kiss you, one and on your waist and the other holding your face. your hands all over his back, pulling him down closer to you.

bucking your hips up into his would make him moan into your mouth. his sweet moans you loved to hear, all just for you. he removed his hand from your face, bringing it down to to your skirt. hand going under it and pushing your panties to the side."you're so wet for me bay, all for me right." quietly moaning into his ear. trying your best to keep quiet.

coming closer to your ear. "shh not too loud, don't want anyone hearing you do we." shaking your head, he had you so weak for him. running his fingers up and down your folds, lightly pinching your clit, making your knees buckle. thighs clamping around his hand.

he inserted two fingers, thrusting them slowly into you. breathing heavily while looking at his fingers going in and out of you. he would leave wet kisses around your neck, kiss you hard if you were about to get too loud. after a couple more thrust, he took his fingers out to raise your skirt higher and take your panties off. kissing them before putting them into his pocket for later. making your cheeks heat up.

"hold onto me baby." bringing one of your hands to his hair before he brought his lips to your wet pussy. his tongue landing right onto your sensitive clit first, inserting his fingers into you once again. giving it kisses while he thrusted his fingers.

he would go so fast, lapping his tongue on you, having to cover your mouth from your loud moans and whimpers. "good girl, you're so good for me y/n. my perfect girl." gripping onto his hair harder each time his fingers hit that spot inside you. "yea pull my hair like that baby." a loud moan slipping past your hand when he went harder.

he could feel your thighs slightly shaking, you were getting close. "cum on my tongue bay, for me yea?" "yes for you, god yes." taking his mouth off your pussy to kiss you as he kept thrusting his fingers into you. your hands gripping his hair and his shoulders. digging your nails into his long sleeve shirt, the feeling of his soft hair against your hand felt so comforting.

coming down from your high, legs shaking around his hand, chanting his name over and over in a whisper onto his lips. holding him down close to you once again, his closeness was your safe space. he brought his fingers to his lips, licking your juices clean off his fingers. "you came so much, all from going down on you, did you miss me?" catching his breath, you could see how wet his mouth was from you.

"yes, but i don't have to miss you any longer, right?" shaking his head at you, another sweet kiss onto your lips. "no, my girlfriend never has to miss me." smiling up at him. "hmm now can my boyfriend take me home? it's so uncomfortable up here." laughing at how long you both had been up there. "yes yes he will. i'll go down first, and carry you to the car, and wear my sweater to cover you." peppering your face with kisses as he made his way down the ladder. soobin was finally yours.

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #soobin smut #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin x reader

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d-dixonimagines · 15 days

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PROMPT: "Thought you'd be taller.."

I feel like I want to do this one again with a different approach, but I don't know. I envisioned it being something light-hearted and fun, so please excuse my attempt at being funny...! @darylsdelts A/N: It's not edited so there's probably typos

There was a weird buzz of energy going around the camp that you couldn't quite place. The way people whispered to one another excitedly like gossiping teenagers. Eventually you got wind that Daryl Dixon was supposed to be arriving. It was overheard on the radio when your group leader was communicating with Aaron, arranging some kind of supply drop. They had been talking for months and were finally closing on a deal to join forces and create connections.

Sure, you had heard Daryl's name before, but it was strange to see people act like it was some celebrity coming through their town, a behavior you thought was long dead when everything fell. He had been the talk for days, apparently. People telling stories about all the things they've heard he's done, even some you were sure couldn't possibly be true, like blowing up a group with a bazooka? It sounded ridiculous.

He had managed to gain a sort of reputation. He was the lone wolf you didn't mess with. People have said that he mostly kept to himself, some describing him as a grumpy old bear, and good luck if you ever got on his bad side.

You've heard he was mean and intimidating and had a permanent glare, but others say he is kind and had a softness to him. That he had a type of charm that was hard to explain. But it was all the same as rumors go; you didn't know what you were supposed to believe.

He had come to the camp a few times, but somehow you've never seen or met him yourself. It was like he was a myth. A story someone made up, and depending on which version you heard, he was either a scary boogeyman or some kind of hero.

None of that mattered, though. You were determined to find out for yourself who this Daryl guy really was, and if he was worth all of the commotion he seemed to cause.

The sun was just about to set when he and Aaron finally arrived. They were greeted with welcoming smiles and were invited to join you all for dinner. You were appreciative of the large cart of food and supplies they brought, but so far you weren't seeing anything too spectacular. He was quiet, mostly. Handing over crates and stuff, no particular look about him. He didn't look scary, there was no scowl-y expression. So many not a grumpy bear?

As the evening went on and everyone was settled, scattered about around the fire, you sat silently - continuing to watch him. When it was mostly just the two of you remaining, you decided that the silent stalking was getting you nowhere, so you took things to the next level; you approached him..

"Would you like some more?" You offered, extending the kettle of food you had in your hand. He looked up at you for a second before shaking his head, "Nah, I'm good.. Thanks." His voice was gruff, but there was a softness to it, it didn't make sense!

"I'll have some more." Your attention was brought to Larson, a guy from your group, who was sitting close by with his plate stretched out, a friendly smile on his face. Without saying a word, you took a step towards him and practically tossed the kettle in his lap, taking a seat next to Daryl, your back towards Larson.

There was a silence again, aside from the confused mumblings from Larson as he dished himself more food. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were eyeing Daryl, trying to glance at the fire every now and then, but you were failing quite miserably.

"Can I help ya with somethin'?" Daryl finally confronted you. When you didn't respond he continued. "You've been starin' me down since I got here and it's startin' to weird me out..."

You straightened up a bit and put your hands up briefly, an attempt to express you didn't mean anything by it. "I'm sorry. I'm just... trying to figure you out." "Whats'ta figure out, exactly?" he remained calm, but you could tell he had a guard up. Which was understandable.

You have a quick shrug as you tried to gather your thoughts. "The way people talk about you, you're at all what I expected." He gave a sight grunt, like where this was going all clicked. "Should I even ask what you were expectin'?" "Thought you'd be taller.." Your response surprised him a bit, causing him to let out a chuckle. Your shoulders relaxed at his reaction. He definitely wasn't a boogeyman type.

"There were a lotta things you could'a said, but I wasn't expectin' that one," he shook his head a bit and set his dish down by his feet. You could understand where he thought you were going, so many mixed reactions to him, but you were feeling more inclined to believe the positive ones, based on your current encounter with him.

"There was a lot of buzz around here when people learned you were visiting. They talk about you like you're some kind of celebrity. Which, I guess in some sense, you kind of are. With all the stuff you've done, you've made quite a name for yourself."

"Pshh.." he scoffed, "I don't buy into all that. People's opinions don't mean shit." "Even if it's good? People look up to you, from what I gather." He shook his head again. "It's all bullshit. They don't know me or the shit I've done." "We've all done things. Larson here?" you pointed your finger over your shoulder, Daryl's eyes following the direction, "the worst thing he's probably done is kill a rabbit, and that's saying something when it comes to him, and while he's probably not the best example, we all still know he's a good person."

Larson looked up from his plate, his gaze going back and forth between you and Daryl. "It was an accident..." Larson defended himself, a silent look of panic etched on his face. "The rabbit, I didn't see it, it was in the -" "You don't have to explain, Larson, it's OK. No one blames you." You cut him off before looking back at Daryl. "...Why would they blame me..?" "It was a whole thing.. but that's not the point. I'm just saying, the stuff you do makes a difference to people. The good stuff, I mean."

Daryl looked confused for a second, trying to figure out Larson's deal, but brought his attention back to you. "I dunno about any of that. I ain't tryin' to be anythin', I'm just doin' what anybody else would." You nodded, planning on keeping things at that, but there was one thing you couldn't get out of your head and needed answers on.

"I just have one question," you opened. He seemed almost reluctant to agree, but he did with a nod. "Is it true you shot a bazooka at some group? Some people say there was a group of like fifty highwaymen and you just blew them all up." He looked at you for a second like you were insane and let out a sigh. "There weren't fifty of 'em, there was only about eight.." "But you blasted them with a bazooka?" "Yeah?" he responded like he didn't understand what the big deal was. "They were a bunch'a assholes, they had it comin'."

"No, I completely get it," you let out a small laugh. "It's just a crazy thing to think about, you know? A bazooka! Where the hell would you even get one of those?" "Military truck," both Daryl and Larson answered at the same time, causing you both to look at him. "Sorry, I keep forgetting you're there." You almost felt bad. "Anyway, I should get going. It was cool to meet you," you turned back to Daryl and stood up, talking some of the empty dishes. Daryl gave a nod as you walked off.

"... The rabbit incident really was an accident," Larson chimed in after a moment of silence; he was leaning towards Daryl like he was trying to keep it between the two of them. "It was in the -" "Let it go, Larson!" Two other people in the group shouted at the same time. Larson slammed his plate on his lap in frustration as he was interrupted once more and he straightened up. Daryl sat there awkwardly in silence for a moment before getting up himself. He walked passed Larson and gave a quick sympathetic pat on his shoulder. "It's alright, buddy. I believe ya.." Daryl let out an amused scoff as he walked away to find Aaron.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #d-dixonimagines #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #norman reedus

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stupidfuckingwindow · 6 months

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Eyes // Ken

Summary: Ken's fears about you possibly leaving him finally boil over.

Word count: 822

Tw: Hurt w/ some comfort.

Ken loves you. He'd do anything for you, so long as you continue to give him attention and care about him. So long as you don't leave him alone.

He doesn't know what he'd do without you. Ken is frightened by just the thought of it, the thought that he just isn't worth the effort- That you will go, and he'll have no one anymore. He'd have to go back to Barbieland, where everything and everyone is perfect, and he'd have to be, too.

But he doesn't.. Ken doesn't want to go back. Surely, if Barbie- no, Barbara, he reminds himself- managed to make a life for herself in the real world and is thriving, then, he, in theory, should be able to do that too.

So why isn't he thriving like she is? Does Barbara secretly feel the way he does? And, if not, why does he have to feel this way? Is he just not good enough to feel adequate and in place here, too?

Why am I not good enough to feel happy, but she is?

Before he knows it, there are tears blotting out his vision, and Ken has to sit up from the bed you two share in order to rub at them. A whimper is choked out of him, and he presses his palms to his eyes, trying to bury his face in his hands.

Ken knows that it's okay to cry, but he hates it. Sometimes he hates not always being perfect and having all these complicated new thoughts and emotions that he didn't even know existed before this. You're always telling him you love him- that you'd never leave him alone. He knows that you won't. But.. But what if you do? There are just so many possibilities. What if he's just another annoying problem for you?

He sits there for a moment, crying in silence from within his lone company. Ken's breathing is shaky, and he mumbles out an incoherent string of words, attempting to comfort himself and failing. The more the tries, the worse it makes him feel.

Ken knows that he can't really do much of anything to help you out. He barely knows how to drive a car, much less pay bills. And you're always so far away all the time. He can't visit you at work because he doesn't know where you work, and that scares him, too. How can he make sure you're always safe if he can't always be with you?

Sure, you're always back home at the end of the day, but what if you don't come back? What if you're hurt, or scared, or..

Ken's tears pour faster at the thought, and his shoulders shake. By now, he's bawling his eyes out, breathing picking up as he silently panics. "Help," he whispers, to himself, voice breaking. It's a cry that sounds defeated, desperate and begging someone, anything just to hold and comfort him.

The jingling of keys at the front door makes his head snap upwards, towards the direction of the noise. Ken leaps up, already bolting out of your room to get to you. He's so quick in his hasty scramble towards the living room that he forgets to wipe his tears from his cheeks.

Ken nearly trips over himself and then some, fumbling over his own two feet.

Once he does get to you, his arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, face buried into your neck. "I was so scared," Ken admits, as another sob wracks his body. He pulls you closer to his chest, pressing you firmly to him. "So, so scared."

"I thought you were going to leave me! Please don't. Please. Please don't leave me. I don't want to go, I'll- I'm- I.. I'm terrified. I don't want you to go. I don't want to disappoint you. I can't drive a car, or work, and I can't even beach here, either. I don't.. I don't have anything to offer, and-" He interrupts himself with a loud, choked out cry.

His fingers dig into your clothes, balling the material up in his hands. "I'm such a mess. How can you want me?"

Ken slowly pulls away to look at you, his pretty, big blue eyes watering- Irritated and puffy. He sniffles, tears still pouring down his cheeks, and his lip wobbles. You reach out, cupping his warm face in your hands and wiping them away.

He leans into your touch, a heavy sigh leaving him. His eyes flutter shut, and Ken's breathing slows. A soft sniffle leaves him. He takes a minute to regain his breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. When he does speak again, his voice is quiet and it breaks.

His eyes open again, pretty blues landing on your face to just.. Look at you, remind himself that, yes, you are still here and that you came back to see him. "I missed you."

#ryan gosling #ken #barbie (2023)#barbie 2023 #ken barbie #barbie movie #ryan gosling x you #ryan gosling x reader #ken x reader #ken x reader angst #i like my men with big wet eyes #happy birthday goose!

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run2seob · 6 months

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hand kisses

requested head cannons(?) — enjoy ~\(≧▽≦)/~ masterlist

SOOBIN

he would love hand kisses soo much

make him cookies? hand gets a smooch!

you beat him in a game? aggressive hand kiss!

and since you're so used to it, it may seem like the romantic part of it has faltered or left over time

but you still get the same butterflies whenever he mumbles anything against your hand

because he's big on affirming you about things too

bunny is always trying to make you smile :(

you could come into his room sulking and his automatic go to is small intimacy

the way the temperature rises in between you in every word that leaves his mouth is something he could think about for years

the second he mumbles an "i love you" into your hand

those three words brightened your day immediately, and only because they were spoken to you with the most tender voice and doe eyes looking up at you

or because you've fallen so hard that anything he says you take to heart

ahem ahem hence how you fall in love with him more everyday

YEONJUN

this man is so brave or nerdy when it comes to love

there's no inbetween for him??

he's infatuated to the max and either is

a.) dumb in love with all letters capital

b.) dumbly in love whilst trying to impress you

but i'm a nerd lover soo.. of course i'll write about dumb in love junnie

you're the only person he's loved as much as he does. the only person he views in a romantic sense.

so how could he mess this up?

deefffinitely pinned for years

and when he holds you close, your hand in his grasp

he softly pecks your hand and smiles cheekily because he thinks it's embarrassing that his cheeks are growing red

but you're dumb in love too, so you think it's the cutest thing you've ever seen

BEOMGYU

this is my option b boy

dumbly in love whilst trying to impress you?? what is that i see? the name beomgyu?

beomgyu with the best friends to lovers trope is my area so let me lose my voice advocating for this

after endless blind dates with guys who you never find to treat you right, all beomgyu can be is selfish

i mean, if someone you pinned over for years was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting their hair and looking stunning was in your line of sight...

i would be selfish too 🤷‍♀️

and what could he do?

he was set on believing you only set the title as a friend for him

if he had an imaginary red name tag, it would say "friend" in permanent marker just to set him straight

all his flirting attempts (holding eye contact while talking and miserably attempting to wink) went unnoticed or horribly wrong

between you two, there were never any talks about going anything further than just friends

you had noticed how his jacket always found it's way over your shoulders in winter, sure, but is that it?

was he going to take you out to dinner and kiss you under the low-lit lantern above your front door?

the answer: yes. but with how slow you're moving, you wouldn't find that out for a while.

your mind only thought about him as you reached the blind date

only about his touch and voice as you sat alone, waiting

waiting for.. a bit too long.

beomgyu, having turned your location on out of jealousy protection just had a hench to come to your date

what if this date went well? what if he lost his chance forever?

beomgyu probably ran all the red lights just to meet you ><

and was it worth it? yes. because you finally were with someone you loved

TAEHYUN

kang taehyun and intimacy.

i'm an advocate for beom's f2l yeah sure... but taehyun.

pink haired taehyun is forever my favorite because the stylist read my thoughts and gave me the look i wanted

old love.

i mean past marriage and past the "oh i'm so in love" stage

i mean sitting down at a couch with hung up portraits of you two on the walls

i mean scars on your hands from when you were young, hugging each other so tight that your nails dug into the other's skin

neither of you noticed though, both too happy to see each other

youthful love isn't something you two speak about in past tense

you talk a lot about your love, about the two of you and all circulating you

from your old friend's favorite drink being out of stock to a little kid complimenting your hair

it's not the same feeling as when talking with a best friend, but a feeling of caring and understanding

each word that flows off your tongue you know will reach the other's ears

sitting on the couch, fingers tied into his, you couldn't help but reminisce on the love of your teenage years.

you hadn't known taehyun too well, only falling for him from afar

it had been illegal to fall for taehyun, your friend already having an infatuation with him

but if you knew it was a plan for them to set you up with taehyun, it would've spared you oh so much trouble.

sneaking out after curfew for pecks even though you were allowed to date him now and nobody was watching

kisses peppered over each other's faces shown in bright red lipstick (none of you wore it, but who doesn't like putting on a show)

you swore to every year you've been in love with kang taehyun, to every second you grew older

that when he snuck a kiss on your hand and whispered the same words he did in your teenage years

you would never fall in love with anyone but him.

HYUKA

kai's first kisses but he's shy >__<

do you know how in some k-dramas, bullies will lead someone on and lean in for a kiss

and then take a photo?

the anticipation would rise and fall similarly

... hyuka would never bully you. don't get me wrong... i just think that he would lead you to think you're about to kiss and then panic so much that he contemplates running away

like.. seriously contemplates it.

you two have yet to make anything official, instead resorting to taking it slow with agreements from both ends

obviously you were okay with this because you didn't want to force kai into anything he wasn't prepared for

but you were over ready

this was your fifth date, and you finally got to go to the arcade you've been longing to go with

well, not quite. you're not a fan of loud and flashy places

still, you've wanted to go to this arcade with hyuka bad. you wanted to watch his smile grow and his eyes focus on a game he's never played before so he can laugh about it

(and infect you with his laugh which- psst. is what gave you the idea to come)

hands clinging onto kai's sleeve, you walked behind him. the confidence you feigned while presenting the idea was now far lost in your mind

flashing colors surrounded you, but hyuka's smile was bright enough to distract you.

"omo, y/n! look!" he called, pointing to the snorlax claw machine (that you both knew would be rigged)

when has that ever stopped anyone?

the answer should be every time.

or at least this time.

because the thirty minutes and thirty months of money you spent on one singular claw machine flew past like that

"i'll go get more points!" kai shouted over the speakers, running to do as he said.

his little jog made you blush, distracted as you realized you hit the "drop" button

oh?

when the accident makes the claw machine finally pick up a snorlax plushie, how can you be mad?

how could you be mad when kai smiled so brightly at you when you informed him?

and when with that happiness, you were led to the position with his hands on your waist

how one thing led to another, you aren't sure

you weren't sure when he would kiss you back, either

it was honestly awkward. your eyes were closed as you simply waited for a kiss.

waiting for a kiss?? waiting... again??

finally opening your eyes, you feel a peck on your hand, and your eyes widened further than intended.

even without moving your hand, you saw hyuka hiding his shy giggles behind the snorlax plush.

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skemford · 7 months

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Decided to refresh my knowledge of bendy protagonists personalities/quirks and i can say that i forget how distant canon Audrey is from fanon one sometimes

Here's relatively short list with Audrey character analysis+random tibbits (environmental/gameplay/voice lines)

(I'll appreciate if someone will interact+most of it is under the cut!)

1. Her workplace is an unorganized mess

On the right side: a couple of empty teacups, empty paper sheets, unopened envelope, books/notebooks, a toy ball and keys in the middle of the desk, storyboards that are UNRELATED to what she was working on;

On the left side: donut that she kept close to her elbow & storyboards while she was drawing + to-do list for a day

There's no WAY she'll be able to keep anything tidy. If you hc her and Bendy to have a familiar bond post game, she'll be as messy if not messier. Her home might be a wreck.

2. She easily distracts

- Audrey is working overtime and claims that she has "only eight hundred more frames to go" until the next deadline

But was she actually *actively* working?

She has unrelated items on her desk (listed above) and jumps on the first opportunity to get a coffee.

If she really did wanted to have a drink, she literally has a soda machine close to her office doors.

Some brands of soda do have caffeine in them, right? Getting a coffee looks more like an excuse for a walk.

Bonus point: if you'll stay in her office without getting up (for 15 minutes), she'll acknowledge that she has no time to waste and will return to work instead.

- "Well, the coffee's good and all. But this work's gotta get done"

Worth to acknowledge: this girl has "employee of the month" award and some kind of animation award (boris statue) in her office .

Does she stays overtime everyday to finish something? Or other Archgate employees are even worse at their jobs, somehow?

3. She uses dry sarcasm or makes jokes a lot

Honestly, it happens really often and should be brought up in fan content more imo.

Due to the images limit i can't put a lot of examples with screnshoots but I'll quote some of them.

- "i think you and i have very different definitions of alright" (toward Allison)

- "Looks like he's having a bad day" (about dead lost one with the gent pipe)

- "Ok! Yeah! And that totally makes sense" (reaction to an easter egg)

- "That's one leap of faith i definitely won't make" (about the pit in animation alley)

4. Audrey gets defensive when someone starts to talk over her or when she feels overwhelmed

Audrey either will deny what was said or will acknowledge it by being sarcastic

Prominent example of this is her reaction to Memory!Joey at the hotel:

- "Oh,now you knew my father. Well, newsflash! I didn't even knew my father...or my mother. Or anyone else in my family" (after Joey says that she has "adventurous spirit of her father")

- "What? Are you crazy?... Who do you think you are?" (after the reveal of her being created by the ink machine)

+ Similar behaviour can be seen in her short interaction with Twisted Alice (Susie).

Audrey prefers to keep conversation equal between both sides and when it fails to work, she'll either stay silent or will express frustration (which can be seen with her replying "no" to Twisted Alice and not saying anything afterwards)

5. She seems to trust Allison enough to be vulnerable around her

After leaving the spider lair, she'll try to reach to Allison through the speakers

- "Alice? Are... you there?... Alice!"

She'll acknowledge that she feels scared and after Allison won't sound reassuring enough, Audrey's hand will be visibly shaking.

Allison is the only character Audrey has opened to; you'll never see her being that vulnerable with anyone else

(She is honest with Henry but not on this level)

It makes me wish they had more interactions; Allison for sure was really important in early development of the game.

6. She's blunt

Through the game Audrey is a type of person who says whatever is on her mind without hiding her intentions too much.

She's emotional and rarely thinks twice (most of her decisions are impulsive or sometimes irrational) which reflects on the way she talks.

It's often slips out through sarcasm when she gets defensive/tries to cope but it's also happens in relatively safe environment (for example, when she talks with Betty):

- "Are you...very old?" (Wilson's mansion, bedroom)

This one liner is the most random question you can say to a stranger; I doubt it was very well thought out from her side

7. Audrey easily trusts people which makes her easy to manipulate

I couldn't skip this one.

When Wilson has created a story about his "poor lost father" as a bait and Audrey did believed in this, there are multiple reasons for "why"

This either could come from her being "goodhearted" or the circumstances being used against her

- She went through whole "father trauma" in one day without being able to process anything & get proper answers:

An idea of "saving" another father (Nathan Arch) who she could've knew more than her own father (Nathan says in one tape that he meet young animators at least once) could've hit her really close to home

- Audrey never actually got a real answer on how to leave the cycle, teaming up with Wilson (who was able to enter and leave) could've looked like the only one way back

(I do acknowledge that writing in DR could've been better at places but if you do think about it in this way,it makes sense)

7.1. She is empathetic

I think that this part says everything for itself and it doesn't need to be explained. Thought, she's the one who decide if someone deserves it.

- She felt bad for hurting Bendy on accident & apologized when she was able to

- When she met Allison for the last time, she "gave" her this name, remembering that she doesn't like to be called 'Alice'

- At the end of the game she wants to try to make the cycle better for everyone.

Twisted Alice (Susie) was included which means that Audrey doesn't hold grudges against her (even with the latest one wanting to kill her previously)

8. Audrey puts her arm through an ink container without hesitation or any side thoughts

IT IS a game mechanic and lore wise you can relate it to her being an ink creature

But honestly? It's in character for Audrey.

We're talking about someone who decided to go to great lengths to catch an aquarium fish (that's kept as a pet) and wanted to use it...for a recipe.

8.1. She doesn't mind eating out of trashcans

If you think that wanting to use someone's pet for a recipe is too weird, you're actually wrong. But eating out of trashcan (when you have other options) may be.

Thought, she drives a line on a food that has flies or other insects on it (like "chocolate cake")...i guess in other cases, it's fine to her.

~~~~~~~

Trivial things:

- Bendy seems to be her favourite cartoon character.

She calls him "little guy" in prologue and keeps close to her storyboards where he's the main character:

In the cycle, she acts joyful when she first stumbles upon the real deal.

- She loves chocolate donuts

- Audrey uses dark eyeshadows (can be seen only in prologue custscene. It's hard to notice at first)

- Her breakfast from to-do list are toasts

- She has abstract Bendy painting in her office

- It can be speculated that she's uncomfortable with being touched (or with someone being physically close), unless, she's the one who initiates it

~~~~~~~~~

#bendy and the dark revival #batdr #bendy #audrey drew #audrey batdr #joey drew #(mentioned)#allison angel #(mentioned too)#my post

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violet-moonstone · 9 months

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THW Rewrite

More headcannons because I have not been able to stop thinking about this franchise for the past 13 years, and I have over a decade's worth of opinions.

I've already posted some of these ideas but ehh it's fine.

While I enjoyed watching it for the first time, THW was disappointing to me for a variety of reasons. (The music was probably the best out the franchise though, I'll say that) Grimmel didn't reach his full villain potential since the writers used Ruffnut's lack of judgment as his key to success instead of him being a capable strategist. (Also they did my girl so dirty. She may be a dumbass, but she's not an idiot!) I don't like that the dragons left after just 6 years. I don't like that all the riders except for Hiccup and Astrid are just played for laughs instead of shining like they do in RTTE. I don't like whatever the hell Snotlout's obsession with Valka was, and I didn't like Toothless' "romance" with the Light Fury. I hate that even dragons can't escape half-developed romance and a nuclear family as the ultimate character accomplishment.

So here are my edits (looking back, there's quite a bit going on, so it may need to be split into 2 movies or a short TV series)

The time jump happens between movies 2 and 3. (I want a full movie with bearded Hiccup and "Homecoming" does NOT count) 10-15 years have passed, so the riders are about 30-35. Zephyr and Nuffink are either little kids or preteens and are getting to an age where they're starting to train dragons.

Astrid is more rough around the edges like she was in HTTYD 1 and Rob/Dob/RTTE, not just Hiccup's supportive gf/wife. Instead of making her softer, motherhood has made her fiercer because she has more people to protect. Hiccup on the other hand is a doting father and can't say no to the kids if they give him puppy dog eyes: heart melted every time.

Toothless finds his original flock(?)/herd?/murder?/unkindness?/parliament? of Night Furies instead of just one "soulmate". Each can have their own personalities and roles in the group while Toothless is the baby. I think it would be interesting if, like Hiccup, Toothless was quite small compared to his peers - potentially explaining why he was on his own and got separated from the group before meeting Hiccup.

Dagur and Heather are brought into a council meeting as Berserker allies. Hiccup greets them in a way that clarifies things for audience members who haven't watched the show. I suppose Mala would also be in it too. I don't dislike Mala but I hate her and Dagur's relationship. More development needed there.

Gustav should be there too, still very much trying to prove himself as a dragon rider and occasionally messing things up.

In terms of the main plot and villains, I'm not too picky, although I've said before that I'm tired of dragon mind-control being the main villain tool. I'm fine with it if Drago comes back as the villain, but if not, the villain should just be dragon hunters or rival dragon riders who use their dragons for conquering/raiding other settlements.

It can hit pretty much hit the same story beats as before but with better character dynamics.

Make Ruff and Tuff more instrumental to mischief and redirection in a way that helps the plot.

Give Fishlegs more credit for his discoveries and record-keeping about dragons.

Snotlout and Eret are together (or implied to be together if that's the best we can get). Snotlout is also no longer Hiccup's rival - he should be his second in command. They can disagree from time to time, but ultimately, his loyalty is not in question.

Fishlegs and Ruffnut have kids who cause chaos with Zephyr and Nuffink.

It would be cool to include a couple characters from other parts of the world with dragon mythology. I understand that Vikings are white but if we have goddamn flying dragons, there's no reason there can't be visitors from other cultures (who aren't villains).

Ending option 1: The movie can end with the dragons going away, but now they've been with the Berkians for over a decade and it just feels more impactful.

The "there were dragons when I was a boy" line can either be Hiccup talking to his grandson after an even longer time jump, or Nuffink talking to his own kids about Hiccup's adventures.

Ending 2: the Berkians go to The Hidden World with the dragons. Hiccup writes a memoir to leave behind. We hear him reading from it at the beginning and assume that means dragons are going to leave, but it's actually a diversion to make people think dragons are gone so no one tries to look for them.

Ending 3: We accept that HTYYD takes place in a different world so we don't have to explain why dragons don't live among us anymore. The movie ends with Hiccup vowing to make the archipelago safe for all dragons and Nuffink and Zephyr take up the mantle of discovering new dragons. The dragons stay and they all live happily ever after, the end :)

I'm tempted to actually write this as a fanfiction but I already got a lot of writing projects atm. We shall see.

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bettsfic · 1 year

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writers' block can have many causes, but one of the most common and insidious is what i call the Bad Faith Audience: the mass of anonymous readers in your head who make fun of and belittle your work. the Bad Faith Audience happens when you're staring at a document, you want to write something, but you think to yourself, "who's going to read this? why should i bother?" it also happens when you restrict yourself: "that's a stupid idea. it's bad writing." that's what's so messed up about the Bad Faith Audience--it's an assumption of a homogenous population of people who somehow get to decide what Good Writing is. "this isn't very good," you think to yourself of your own work. but by what standard are you judging yourself? how exactly have you reached that conclusion? you've built up a non-existent audience of people to attempt to appease. the harder you try to appease that Bad Faith Audience, the more you concede your own ideals and flatten your writing to appeal to the largest common denominator.

you stare at a blank document, and before you've even written a word, you've reached the conclusion it's not worth existing. that it won't be good enough based on an unidentifiable standard. it won't be perfect. and then you don't write it.

possibly you think, "but there are all these writers i admire and i'll never be as good as them." there will always be writers you think are better than you. always. that does not invalidate your work. you have improved from where you began and you will continue to improve as long as you keep writing. the author you admire may be on a different mile marker on their own journey, but you'll get there too eventually. or maybe you won't; maybe you'll walk down a different path than them and be able to acknowledge that their voice and aesthetics are just not what you write, and that's okay. you don't have to be able to write everything. you can admire something and not adopt it into your own goals.

here's a thought experiment that's gotten me to close the curtain on the Bad Faith Audience:

don't imagine many readers. imagine one reader. i call this reader Aunt Janet. Aunt Janet can look down on anything, no matter how lauded or famous. van gogh's sunflowers? "it's just flowers. who cares?" the mona lisa? "she's not even smiling."

Aunt Janet looks at your work and says, "what's the point? go do something better with your time." but the thing about Aunt Janet is that she doesn't know anything about writing or art or music, has no knowledge to help frame her understanding of your work, and so why does her opinion matter? you can never make Aunt Janet happy.

so whenever i think, "i'm not good enough," i ask myself, says who? Aunt Janet says who. and Aunt Janet doesn't know jackshit.

now let's look at the other side of the spectrum: the very opposite of Aunt Janet, the reader who just gets you, gets what you're doing, and loves it. i call this person the Ideal Reader. they're in awe of everything you write. they read your work and leave dozens of keysmash comments in the margins. they can't wait to see what you write next.

Aunt Janet doesn't exist and Ideal Reader doesn't exist either, but in the same way you can define Aunt Janet's tastes by reasons she would hate your work, you can define the Ideal Reader by the reasons they would love it.

Ideal Reader is exceptionally well-read in your genre. they know all the tropes and expectations. they know what authors your work is in conversation with. they have an intimate understanding of where your work belongs and the frame of reference necessary to understand the context of your work. all writing has context; when we dislike something, it's usually because we don't understand its context, and if we were to understand it, it may not be for us, but we can at least understand the kind of person who values it. we can fathom its Ideal Reader and avoid becoming Aunt Janets ourselves by acknowledging that every piece of writing can be loved.

whenever you dismiss an idea as ridiculous or stupid, Ideal Reader is there going, "no, wait, i want to read that." when you can't take your work seriously, Ideal Reader is shaking you by the shoulders saying, "it's serious to me."

now imagine Ideal Reader has a platform. they have authority. they're a BNF who recs your fic. they're an acquisitions editor at your dream publisher. they're a producer asking to buy the rights to your manuscript. imagine Ideal Reader is someone who can champion your work and take it to its highest possible place.

Ideal Reader has been in the business a long time. Ideal Reader is confident and doesn't take shit from anybody. Ideal Reader stands up for what they believe in.

imagine bringing Ideal Reader to a party and introducing them to Aunt Janet. Aunt Janet immediately tries to belittle Ideal Reader: "so you publish books, so what, who cares about books?" "so you have a million followers. why don't you do something real with your time?" "you're a producer? go to med school and do something meaningful."

Ideal Reader is amused by Aunt Janet and her gross misperceptions. but then Aunt Janet goes after your work, and that is too far. Ideal Reader points at Aunt Janet and goes, "you have no idea what you're talking about." and they proceed to list off all the things they value about your work.

imagine the things Ideal Reader would say to Aunt Janet, and write out that list.

that list is your value. it's what you're giving to your community when you share your work. it's why you write.

the sad truth is that you'll encounter far more Aunt Janets than you ever will Ideal Readers. sometimes Aunt Janets are actually very knowledgeable and still demean your work, but it's because they're jaded and insecure and maybe a little pretentious. that's okay. your Ideal Readers, or the people closest to it, are the only ones who matter.

i had trouble fathoming the Ideal Reader for a long time until i published my first story and the editor went wild over it. it was the first time someone i didn't even know read my work and saw merit in it, all on its own. i once got into a pretty prestigious residency and it honestly kind of baffled me, until i got there and found out the woman who ran it was a fangirl. when i workshop a story, usually only one or two people in the group will Get It. the rest will try and they'll mean well, but ultimately they're coming at it from a different context and different personal tastes, and that doesn't mean the work is bad, but that they're not my audience. when my agent offered to sign me, she wrote me this long, lovely email about how much she loved my manuscript, and she appreciated the same things i appreciated about it. becoming a successful writer, however you measure success, isn't about being Good. Good Writing is a myth. there's only the stubborn insistence of staying true to yourself, and the long journey of putting your work in the hands of people you hope are Ideal Readers.

there will always be people out there who will understand your work and champion it. there are people whose personal tastes align exactly with yours. but you'll never be able to find those people if you don't write the ideas that are dearest to you and share them with the world.

#writing advice #the ideal reader also frames my approach to editing but that's a different essay

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armpirate · 28 days

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Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 12

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy.

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 14 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Jungkook moved around the gym, checking that some of the people he was training were doing the exercises as he asked them to. But while he was there physically, his mind was somewhere else -to the point of almost making it seem like he wasn't even there either.

He remembered how he came across Y/n in their landing earlier that day. It was Wednesday, but her schedule for sure didn't seem like one of her regular weekday's schedule. It was later than she usually stepped out of her apartment, and it was too early compared to when she usually stepped out on the weekends to do whatever she did -if she ever left at all. As his smile dropped and his eyes followed her to the elevator, he could point out the small blue bag she was carrying, and that almost was dragged through the floor by how low it was.

Where was she going?

Could it be that he crossed the line the other day and pushed her to move out? But that bag was too small for that.

Jungkook shook his head, trying to push those thoughts and questions away. He didn't care, it wasn't his business. And, if she left, he for sure would throw a party after he finally was able to get rid of her -even if it was only for a few days.

While the thought of Y/n slowly vanished away, the ringtone coming from his phone helped him distract himself from a thought he didn't want to have.

Not again that weird number.

They had been calling him every few days, only to not reply back whenever he answered the call. At first he thought it was someone mistaken his phone number from the one thay actually wanted to call, until later he just thought it was probably someone messing up with him.

He would've blocked it from making any more calls if it hadn't been for the sudden thought of it possibly being someone in charge of those fights. Because, in case they were, he needed to be approachable to keep getting invited to those.

—Who is it? —he answered with a tired tone.

There was a loud sigh coming from his deepest guts, trying to keep his calm when he was answered back with silence -as usual. It was starting to get tiresome to be living in that situation, at least, three times a week.

—Look, you're starting to bust my balls —he barked—. If you have something to say, say it now. Otherwise I'll find where you are and...

—Jungkook —a feminine voice interrupted him.

His body completely froze when he heard that familiar voice, and sad tone. He could've expected anyone else, but her.

—What... —he gulped the thick knot on his throat to be able to speak properly— What do you want?

—I need to talk to you —she softly said—. I know you hate me, I know you want to know nothing about me, but I really need to see you. Please.

—No —Jungkook quickly shook his head—. I don't care what it is you need to talk with me, I don't want to hear it, and I don't want to see you.

—Jungkook... —she almost begged.

—I told you ten years ago, you don't exist to me.

As soon as he was aware of the silence in the gym, looking up to find the three young guys standing in front of him as they listened to his conversation, Jungkook sighed, making his way to the front door.

—I don't know how many times I need to tell you: you're dead to me —he roughly said—. Stop trying to reach me out. And don't dare show up in front of me, never in your life.

—But...

He ended the call before he could hear what she had to say. She was a total stranger, or so she worked hard to be one for him. He didn't have the patience, nor the strength to deal with anything that had something to do with her.

Not in that moment, not in that lifetime.

Ten years ago he erased his mother from his life, and it'd stay like that for so much longer.

The silence was so heavy that she was sure it'd take a toll on her own balance if she ever tried to get up from the table. That house was usually so cheerful and happy, so carefree and safe, but there was a strange feeling in the air that day. She thought she'd get used to it, or that she'd be mentalized by it when she got on the bus. It was always like that once a year, and she couldn't ever get used to it.

It was always like that when they returned from the cemetery.

The smile that was always on her mother's face because of Mitchell also turned into a straight line, and her eyes reflected the pain she went through exactly five years back in that exact same living room they were sitting at.

Noah's death was difficult to handle for most of them. Even Mitchell was devastated when his wife broke into a broken cry when the doctor walked to her with the heartbreaking news that her son didn't make it out of the surgery. His brain was so damaged that nothing could save him and the surgery would only put him in a thin line between life and death. Yet all of them took the risk, because there still was the small glimpse of hope that made them believe Noah would make it out alive.

It wasn't like they had any other choice either way. He entered that vegetative state after the ambulance picked him up, that didn't matter what would happen, he wouldn't ever be the same again. At least, with the surgery, they all thought he'd wake up again.

—I'll prepare some tea —Mitchell softly said, covering his wife's hands with his—. Do you need something else?

Instead of speaking, Y/n's mother shook her head slowly, not moving her eyes from the concrete spot on the floor she had been fixing her gaze on for the past two hours.

—Do you need anything? —he turned to the two girls sitting on the couch opposite to the one they were sitting at.

—No, thank you —Y/n answered with a tiny smile.

—No.

Despite both saying the same, Hannah's tone was condescending, along with the annoyed look she gave him and that made Mitchell uncomfortable. It was usually like that. For some reason, her sister always had a tough time whenever she had to deal with their mother's husband. It didn't matter what he did, it didn't matter what he said, Hannah would always show off how much she disliked him.

—Could you, at least, make an effort today? —Y/n asked her with a weak voice.

—I didn't do anything.

—Mitchell is having a hard time as we all are right now. You should stop being a bitch to him at least for one day.

—Girls —their mother finally spoke, with the first weak warning.

—Well, I'm sorry, but I don't understand what he's doing here —Hannah ignored their mother—. Isn't it enough to celebrate Noah's death anniversary, but I also have to sit here with someone that has zero to do with this?

—Nothing to do...? —Y/n had to stop herself after she tried to understand what her sister was saying— He's married to our mom, he's been in our lives for so long, he was close to Noah, and you're asking why he's with our family? He's part of our family —she pointed out.

—Oh, dad can't show face here, but Mitchell can?

—Dad abandoned us, he left us behind and didn't care about what we went through. But Mitchell did care. I'm sorry your privileged ass never had to go through any of that.

Hannah had always been the lucky one.

When their father left, without looking back, without caring about all the debts he left pending on their mother alone, the whole stability of the house fell onto her shoulders. Hannah was too busy living her uni days to ever know what it was to see their mother at the edge of depression every single day, with the smile and the spark in her eyes disappearing as time went by. Hannah kept going to college, while Y/n and Noah left their studies aside to help their mother when she wasn't able to go on. They did everything they could, they worked every job they found, and it still wasn't enough.

Debts and bills were being paid, but their mother was in such an awful state that it made them both worry about her health every single day -and that it was only hidden under the carpet when Hannah came back home for some holidays.

She never had to live any of that, because she was always protected from it since she wasn't even living at home. Their mother could pull up an act for a few days.

At least until she met Mitchell, and everything started to seem a little bit brighter every day. Thanks to him Y/n and Noah were able to leave those poor jobs, and she was able to go back to studying; and, most importantly, he gave their mother the wish to live every single day again. He was there when he needed her the most, of course he had every right to go through that mourning with them.

—Y/n! Hannah! Stop —their mother finally got them to stay quiet.

—Hey —all of their eyes were on the man who was waiting by the small arch that connected the living room to the corridor—. I think it'd be better if I stayed in a hotel this week. Hannah is right.

Y/n looked at her mother, trying to get her to react to what was happening, only to see her pressing her lips together with a nervous look in her eyes.

The previous years Hannah didn't even attempt to show up there for that time of the year, she barely even checked on their mother during that day, and the first time she dares to celebrate such an important day, she expects the only person who's always been there to leave.

—Honey, take care, alright? —he kissed his wife's head.

The silence that invaded the house the second after Mitchell left was so heavy and thick that turned twenty minutes into feeling like hours. It was even worse than how it was before he left, which made Y/n wonder if Hannah's problem was actually him or there was something else.

—You always have to be such a drama queen —Hannah rolled her eyes—. It's your fault he left. If you hadn't said anything, nothing would've blown out the way it did.

Y/n bit her lip, nervously trying to hold back all the painful words that were sharpening on the tip of her tongue. She could've said a lot of things, she could've turned that moment into one big fight that would've only made their family distance even more. It wasn't like Hannah cared either way. After that week, she'd probably leave back to Malaysia and forget about everything she'd done there at that moment.

It was like that during her college days, and it would be like that in the present.

—I can't believe you're going to blame me for what you did —she scoffed—. And I can't believe you're selfish to make this day about you either. No one gives a fuck about how you're feeling if it has zero to do with Noah. I don't give a fuck. You've always done this, and you show zero regrets after —her eyes rolled, trying to control the teardrops that were forming in her eyes—. And I can't believe you'd rather do what she wants than standing up for yourself —she turned at her mother—. What's the worst she will do? Leave? That's nothing new. She's just like dad, so I bet it's just a matter of time.

—Stop —her mother finally spoke, standing up to face the two of them—, the two of you. This is the only day I needed you to be supportive, and you ended up fighting about who's right and wrong. It isn't the moment for you to discuss these things, yet here you are doing it.

—So, to keep a peaceful day, you'll just do whatever she wants? —Y/n looked at her mother in disbelief— I understand what you want, but kicking someone out of their own home and dictating how people should mourn isn't the way either —her tone was calm—. And if this is the way you're going to do it, I can perfectly do it like this back in my house.

At first, it just seemed like a threat, until Y/n started picking up her things, only stopping to look at her mother. If Hannah was going to stay there, the best thing she could do was to leave and let her mother have the peaceful day she was seeking -and that she deserved.

Her arms wrapped gently around her neck, giving her a soft hug before she stepped back to hang the strip of her bag over her shoulder.

—I'll call you tomorrow —she assured her.

Her mother didn't try to stop her, or to understand why she was leaving that hostile place the house had become, she just let her go, seeing her body disappearing behind the big main door.

On her way back home in the bus, Y/n kept wondering if she had taken the right decision and if she wouldn't end up regretting it shortly after she arrived back in the city. Her family hadn't looked so broken since Noah died. And suddenly all those feelings were coming back in her system slowly, getting over all of her thoughts and reactions before she could avoid it. Although she held them in, keeping her eyes from dropping the tears piling up and her mouth to let out that whine she had been holding back.

She had enough that day, she just wanted to close herself in her apartment and let everything that happened throughout the day die in her pillow. She just needed a calm night after such a stressful day.

She pressed the button of the elevator a few times, seeing no reaction from it. Usually, the light of the button would light up and would emit a sound to let it be known the lift would arrive to the floor shortly, but it didn't react that night.

Actually, there wasn't the slightest hint of it moving.

Tiredly, she looked up at the stairs at the left of the metallic huge box, giving up trying and just getting to her floor by walking. It was tiring, it wasn't what she actually needed, but it was better than waiting for something that wouldn't happen.

She remained impassive when the click of the door behind her reached her ears after she got to her floor, thinking that ignoring him would be enough and would get him to leave.

—Is the rule only for me? —he teased her— You should have got here with the elev...

—Are you glued to the door? —Y/n asked, still walking to her apartment.

—I wasn't waiting for you —he replied back—. I was just making sure you followed the rules you imposed. You can't be so unfair. If it had been me, you'd have set it all on fire. Am I wrong? I bet you're so used to doing whatever you want that you just don't care about what others' feel.

She didn't care about his words, she had learnt to turn his voice into a blank noise when it was convenient for her. And in that moment, she didn't want to waste energy fighting with him over something so stupid as the division she made on the floor.

But her silence, and how she didn't turn to him to confront him, didn't go unnoticed by him. It just wasn't the way she usually reacted.

—Are you okay?

Stopping a few steps away from her door, right when she was ready to sneak her hand inside her bag to reach her keys, she broke.

It was all silent, and suddenly he heard a snort that hinted at what was happening. Her shoulders shook in rhythm with her hiccups while she cried, and Jungkook suddenly panicked at the idea of him being the cause of it.

—Hey, it's not that serious —he started walking to her—. I was just being an asshole to you, like always —his laugh sounded nervous.

His hands moved over her body without getting to touch her, trying to think what could be the best move he could pull right there. He didn't want to be invasive, but she clearly needed somebody to comfort her. But what was the right way to comfort her?

She just needed some support, something that made her feel like things weren't going as bad as she thought, she just needed something stable among that chaos. Her hug took him by surprise, having his arms hung in the air for a few minutes as he tried to realize what was going on.

He had never had to comfort anyone, he had never had to hug somebody to wash the pain away, and he never had someone doing it for him either, so hearing her sobs and feeling his plaid shirt getting wet on his shoulder by her tears was a new experience that he didn't think he liked.

But he did.

His arms slowly wrapped around her shoulders, while his palm rubbed against her upper back to comfort her, trying to get those powerful whines and continuous tears stop. Her face was hidden in his chest, and only then she noticed how the musky scent from his cologne was more powerful than the tobacco stink impregnated on his clothes.

She didn't even know he smoked.

She actually didn't know anything other than the little war they had going on, and some of the small things she had found out casually. Finally feeling calm enough to break some sense into her mind, with realization hitting her like a truck when she wasn't blinded by how lonely and hopeless she felt. She was so fooled by how good that embrace felt that, for one second, she forgot who she was hugging like her life depended on it.

—If you tell anyone about this, I'll make you eat your own guts —she threatened, with her head still hiding in the fabric of his shirt.

—I won't tell anyone —he assured her.

Jungkook didn't feel the need to hear her explanation, and it somehow made her felt relieved. Because he gave her a safe space where she didn't need to justify herself. He was just there, confused at how he wasn't feeling awkward about it, but warmed but how he was of help.

—This feels... weirdly good —she admitted.

—Uh-hum —he nodded—. Although... maybe...

While he tried to speak, Y/n could feel one of his hands sneaking all the way down her back, having her step back and pushing him away before he could reach the place he had aimed.

—You're a jerk.

—I thought it'd help make you feel better and forget about everything.

—Oh my god, you're sick —she whispered, slowly going back to her usual self—. At first I thought you were an asshole, but now I'm really convinced that you have a disease.

—Could be —he seemed to be serious for one second—. Maybe I need some of your medicine.

There was no reply back to that comment, other than the sound her door made against the door frame.

—Oh, come on. I was just trying to cheer you up.

Although she wasn't angry at him, or disappointed. She wasn't even disgusted. Instead, she found herself smiling.

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

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tonberry-yoda · 10 months

Text

Liar - Spiderman Noir (f!reader)

notes - Here is the Noir fic I promised from the poll I did! Sorry it took so long, but I hope the wait was worth it because I think this is a pretty good one!! I hope you all enjoy and stay super hydrated! <3 word count - 1,272 tag list - @cerezzzita <3 summary - You live a double life, one where you act like you work at a jewelry store and go home to your boyfriend Peter, and one where you are a criminal, trying to run from the infamous, Spiderman. It's hard to live like this, but a hell of a lot of fun.

You hung up your long furry coat and sighed, shaking the rain out of your hair. "Peter, darling?" you called.

You pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag from it. You noticed that Peter left dinner for you in the fridge. You smiled at the sight and pulled it out on the counter.

"Peter?" you peeked your head into your shared bedroom and saw him fast asleep. You quietly walked over and placed a small kiss onto his forehead.

You were tired, to say the least. Peter didn't know a lot about your job, but you didn't know a lot about his, so what did it matter? He said he worked on and off with the police, so the last thing you wanted to tell him was that you stole things, worked for a mafia-like gang, and tried to kill Spiderman on more than one occasion.

He was your everything, simply, and you didn't want to ruin that for either of you. So, you lived with him in peace and tranquility, telling him that you worked at a jewelry store in Manhattan, nothing more.

You quickly ate your dinner and crawled in bed with peter, wrapping your arms around him as he slept. He smiled slightly, which made you smile as well.

"I love you, Peter." you whispered.

"I love you too." he muttered back.

Honestly, you would do anything for this man.

---

The next day, right before dinner, you found yourself hanging upside down, falling for one of Spiderman's traps.

You blew a piece of your hair out of your face and looked at the man in front of you, completely unamused.

"What do you want?" you asked him. "A kiss? Because I'll have you know, I have a handsome man waiting for me at home."

"Very funny," Spiderman scoffed. "Those earrings are nice. Where'd you get them?"

"The jewelry store." you smirked.

"Nice try, liar."

"I'm not lying. I did get them at the jewelry store."

"More like stole them."

You giggled. "I still got them from the jewelry store, didn't I? Stole them or not, I was still telling the truth."

Spiderman pinched the bridge of his nose and you just laughed at him.

"Hand them over." He held out his hand.

"I'm a little tied up."

He groaned and took them off himself along with your necklace and fur coat.

"Not the fur coat." you pouted.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Nope, not a thing."

He let you down from the trap, making you fall flat on your head. You complained as you sat up.

"I'll ask you one more time," he said. "Anything else?"

"Nope. Not a thing."

"Those heels?" he pointed down at your pair of sparkling heels.

You shook your head. "Actually bought these ones myself."

"I don't believe you."

"I'm telling the truth!" you clearly lied, an evil smile painting your lips.

"Fine, take them. But either way, you won't get to look this nice in priso-"

You threw down a smoke bomb and took off, leaving the heels behind.

"What a pain in my ass." you muttered.

Peter was probably waiting for you at home having already made a nice dinner for the two of you, and you would be late again, shoeless and smelling of smoke.

Your car was on the complete other side of the city, you figured, and Spiderman was probably waiting by it to get you anyway, so at this point, you were screwed.

Luckily, you didn't have to travel far to get home, but by the time you did, your feet were stained black from the New York ground and your hair was definitely a mess.

You tried making yourself look as presentable as possible and opened the door.

"Peter?" you called.

"y/n?" You looked up to find Peter at the dining room table with a nice dinner laid in front of him. God, you were an awful girlfriend.

"Sorry I'm late... and look like this. My car got jacked and I had to walk home. And I wasn't going to do that in heels."

Peter just chuckled at you and walked up, cupping your face with his hand. "Oh, darling, you look fine. I'm sorry to hear that." He pressed his lips to yours quickly and you smiled.

"I just feel bad that I'm always late." you admitted.

"You're a busy woman. I can't blame you." he said. "Now sit! Let's have dinner."

You sat down at the table and told Peter lies about your day while he told you about his.

You felt bad lying to him, but he was the most normal thing you had in your chaotic life, so why not enjoy it?

Suddenly - in the middle of dinner - Peter perked up, looking in a rush.

"Is everything all right, Peter?" you asked.

"Y-Yes, doll, everything's fine. I actually just remembered I had something I need to deal with at work. I feel bad for leaving but... I'll be right back."

Peter left the house, leaving you alone in the dark kitchen, only lit by a candle on the table. You scoffed and blew out the candle, walking over to the door to slip on some shoes. You needed to go on a walk and blow some steam.

And just your luck, as you weren't even a couple hundred feet from your house, you saw Spiderman.

"What do you want?" you pushed past him.

"What are you up to? Crime?"

You laughed. "I have a life outside of that, you know."

"Oh, I know." he chuckled. "But it's more fun to chase after you and believe that you don't have an ounce of good in that body of yours."

You turned around, shocked. "Are you flirting with me, Spiderman?"

"Maybe. Would you like me to?"

You hadn't even noticed that the two of you ended up in an alleyway, your faces inches apart.

"I have a boyfriend." you said, putting your hands on his chest.

"I know."

"Then stop." you whispered.

"I'm sure you're boyfriend won't mind." He slowly began to move his mask up, showing his lips first and you sucked in a breath.

"I'm sure he will." you said quietly.

You nearly passed out when Spiderman took off his entire mask though and two thoughts were going through your mind: God, he's hot and I'm going to slap the shit out of Peter.

You wrapped your arms around Peter and smiled. "So, how long has this been going on?" you asked him.

"Well," he gave you a quick kiss. "When we first became enemies, I wanted to start dating you as Peter to get more info, but I fell in love along the way."

"Oh, how awful."

"I guess we were both lying to each other, then."

"I don't mind though." you admitted quietly, pulling him in for a kiss. It wasn't really lying anymore since the two of you knew and to know that your enemy this whole time was your lover made something course through your veins that you liked.

"So what was it you had to deal with?" you asked, playing with Peter's hair.

"Something blew up downtown."

"Fun."

"Maybe for you." he laughed.

"True. I do like when things blow up."

Peter smiled at you and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

"Shut up."

Peter held your waist and moved his mask down to only where his lips were showing. He gave you a long kiss and then vanished when you opened your eyes.

Somehow, your relationship had gotten more daring. And you kinda liked it.

~~~~~

into the spiderverse masterlist | pinned post 2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

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bangtaninborderland · 2 months

Text

Risk It All (27)- Temporary Goodbyes

Genre: Chishiya X F!reader | eventual smut | angst

Warning: none for this!

A/N: ignore me spam posting these 😭

Prev | Masterlist | Next

It had been four days since AN and Kuina had arrived, you'd spent the first catching up, the second discussing the borderlands, and the third making a run to the closest store which went surprisingly well considering Chishiya had to explain the way from home and the fourth dragging Chishiya from bed to join the land of the living once again.

His wounds had healed enough to walk around, barely....

"I said no Chishiya." You slammed the cupboard door. "It's too dangerous."

"If I don't go my visit is going to run out." He retorts. "There are no choices here."

You huff, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. "We don't even know if we need visas anymore."

"I'm not risking it and I know you won't either." You know Kuina and An can hear everything, it's not like the walls are thick but you're thankful they let you both have your privacy. "We don't know when the next game will start."

You pull out a packet of rice and pour it into a pot. "Don't use terms like 'we' when you decide this all on your own."

"I did but you shouldn't expect any different." You can practically hear him shrugging. "I have to leave today."

"You can't even walk let alone win a game!" You shout, the bag of rice ripping open and spilling everywhere. "Fuck."

"Let me help." Chishiya says, limping over to you. "Just sit do-

"Stop trying to baby me! I can handle a bag of spoilt rice Chishiya. You can't handle an adult conversation where you discuss something as important as joining another game yet you can help me clean up unimportant messes?"

He frowns. "That's not what you're mad about."

You know it's not. "Whatever just go away."

"I'm leaving to enter the game today." He reminds you.

"I know."

"Are you going to join?"

You shake your head. "I don't need to, not yet."

He nods. "How many days on your visa?"

It hadn't been something you'd begun to worry about, the time was more than enough. "I think 11"

"I'll be fine." He mumbles.

You hate that he seems to understand why you're upset. "I know you will."

"You're scared." He points out as though it's not obvious.

You forgo cleaning the rice in favour of pushing your way into his arms. "I'm terrified, what if you don't come back?"

"I will." He reassures you, his hand hesitantly brushing against your waist. "Don't think about pointless things like that, if I die you just keep going."

"Don't say stuff like that!" You smack his arm, tears threatening to fall. "You can't die Chishiya."

"Why?" He asks, pulling back a little to look at you.

The words are no more than a whisper but you knew he heard them considering how close your bodies were. "Because I need you."

He laughs, shaking his head. "You don't need anyone, I don't need anyone, you want."

"Fine then I fucking want you okay. Is it so bad I want you to be safe?"

"I will be."

It's easy to ignore the way your nose grows stuffy as you shed a few tears. "You don't know that."

"I do."

"How." You mumble into his chest.

He looks the the ceiling as though genuinely considering his answer. "Because you don't know how to fix the power generator if it goes out and I'm pretty sure if it does you'll die which although seems great because I'll never have to hear you complain again is more trouble than it's worth considering the fact there's a great chance you'll follow me to the afterlife, which by the way I don't believe it, and you'll continue to be just as irritating there too."

You push him away in favour of going back to clean the rice. "I should have let you bleed out on the doorstep.

"You wouldn't do that." He laughs

You ask him. "Why are you so sure?"

"Because I fucking need you." He imitates you.

It's almost like a reflex when you throw the broom at him. "Fuck you."

"Can't, don't have condo-"

Kuina pushes past Chishiya, opening up the cupboard containing the canned food. "This looks fun but I'm hungry."

Chishiya glares at you whilst you hold back a laugh, your chest shaking as you try to be quiet.

"Can't wait to leave." You hear him mutter as he sits down at the table.

Kuina looks at him before pointing to the hall. "Door is right there."

"Great, now I won't get lost." He thanks sarcastically.

You watch them bicker as you tip the dirty rice into a bag, a smile on your face as you force yourself to forget the fact that in a few hours, the house that had become somewhat of a temporary home would be lacking one crucial person.

Lunch passes by as no more than a blur, the food you'd helped Kuina make sitting practically untouched on your plate by the time everyone else had finished. "You weren't hungry?" An asks, taking your plate as you'd asked.

"Not really." You force a smile. "I'm going to lay down for a little I think my head is starting to hurt."

You don't wait for a response from anyone before you pull yourself up, walking directly to the bedroom and closing the door behind you.

It turns out that forgetting Chishiya would be gone was harder to forget than you'd ever imagine.

You don't ask who it is when there's a knock on the door, your instincts know who it is before they walk inside. "You're being a crybaby."

"Fuck you." You know it is probably ineligible from the way your face is buried in the pillows that you and Chishiya share but you don't care. "Go away."

The bed dips as he sits down."I'm not going away, not until later."

"Stop making jokes."

"Look you're right, I could die but I won't and if I do you'll be okay. I told you not to fall for me, not here but you didn't listen and this is what the outcome is. I won't baby you and tell you that it's going to be fine because we both know what could happen but I'd rather not leave here with you being sad and depressed." You force yourself to look at him despite how awful you must appear.

"Because you'd struggle in the game if I was sad?"

He snorts before schooling his face when he catches your expression. "I wouldn't let it affect me so no but afterwards it would be annoying."

"If there even is an afterwards." You say aloud with it thinking.

"I haven't lost a game up to now and I won't anytime soon so stop being ridiculous and come and show me how to play this stupid card game you kept mumbling about ." He pulls the blanket off you.

You manage to smile at the way he remembered the conversation you'd had two days ago. Chishiya, still unable to get out of bed, you'd wanted to try and keep him company, but despite your 30-minute pleading session for him to let you teach him a few of your favourite card games he had refused.

"Chishiya?" You grab his hand before he opens the door.

He spins on his heel to face you. "Yeah?"

"Please don't die on me."

"I won't." He smiles, pulling the door open.

Kuina and An are already sitting around the makeshift table, the deck of cards in the middle with various snacks dotted around the floor.

You take a seat on one of the pillows, Chishiya sitting beside you. Kuina catches your eye, mouthing an "Are you okay?"

You nod with a smile, despite knowing you looked sad. You wanted to enjoy today, even if it was for a short while you could pretend like everything was normal. "Isn't it morbid playing card games considering where we are?"

You laugh at the question An asks as she shuffles the cards. "Not really, I think it's kind of ironic."

"Idiotic more like." Chishiya scoffs.

You and Kuina both roll your eyes at the comment, An seemingly unbothered as she hands you the pack of cards to which you deal out equally. "So the name of the game is called cheat but some people call it-"

"Bullshit." An finishes.

You raise your eyebrows at her. "You know it?"

"Of course I do." She laughs. "I'm the best at it."

"I doubt it."

You both laugh, as Kuina and Chishiya stare at you both in confusion. "The game also has another name, some people refer to it as "I doubt it."

"Ohhhhh!" Kuina claps. "Now I get it."

"Okay forget this im going to sleep." Chishiya makes to stand but you pull him back down by the pocket of his pants.

"Sit and shut up." He raises his eyebrows in something akin to shock before huffing and sliding back down into his previous position. "So as I was saying, the player to the left of the dealer, which would be Kuina, starts by placing between 1-4 cards face down in a discard pile in the centre. The player must state what the cards they have placed down are but they do not have to tell the truth. They do however have to keep the value the same. For example, I could say I have the 3 kings but place down 3 of the clubs... are you all following?"

You wait for all three of them to say yes before continuing. "The other players can call "cheat" or "bullshit if they think the player is lying about the value of their cards."

"So what happens then?" Chishiya asks, looking at his cards.

"Well, I'd say Kuina, for example, were to say that if you were to call cheat you would have to show your cards to everyone. If Kuina was right you would have to pick up all the cards in the centre, then it would be Kuina's turn to go. If Kuina is wrong, the person on the left of the player, which would be me, will go next."

"And if no one calls the bullshit thing?" You almost choke at hearing Chishiya cuss but you hold it back.

"Well I would take my turn but I must declare the value of my cards to be only one up or down from what you have said yours is." You answer him before turning back to Kuina and An. "For example, Chishiya says his cards were kings. I would have to say mine are queens, kings or aces."

Kuina nods enthusiastically, smiling at her cards. Her body angled away from the rest of the table. "I get it, so how do you know who the winner is."

"The person who gets rid of all their cards first is the winner."

Chishiya hums. "Who's going first?"

"An?" You offer.

"Sure." She smiles, placing down one card. "I have the 7 of diamonds."

"Bullshit." Chishiya spits with a grin the second she finishes her sentence.

You can't stop yourself from laughing at how his face falls when An turns over her card, the 7 of diamonds. "Don't forget to pick it up."

"Go away." He huffs, picking up the card as though it's tainted.

The game passes like that, thankfully no arguments arise despite a near miss when Kuina calls Chishiya a liar because "you're a bad liar your face looks weird when you lie." Only for him to respond with "Your face looks weird all the time but I still believe you when it's necessary."

You'd had so much fun playing, the memory of your sister beside you as you silently remember the way you used to help her cheat at the game against her friends. She would always call you her eyes.

"I have to leave soon." Chishiya whispered as he pulled you aside, Kuina and An still at the table packing up the cards. "I need to be there before I miss my opportunity."

"I know but can't you stay just a little longer?" You ask, fighting the urge to lock him in the bedroom and prevent him from leaving.

"I can't risk not getting a place in the game. I'll be back but I have to leave soon."

"How soon?" You don't need him to answer, the sickening feeling in your stomach tells you what you need to know.

He looks to the floor. "In the next thirty minutes."

You bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to cry. "Okay."

"Fuck." He huffs, grabbing your wrist. "Come with me."

You let him pull you into the bedroom, waiting until he closes the door to speak. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to come back but if I don't the generator won't hold out with all three of you using it for an extended period of time. If it comes between saving yourself, Kuina or An you know what to choose."

You ignore the subtlety of his message. "You'll come back it doesn't matter if the generator won't work."

"I will but if I don't."

"But you will." You insist.

"I will."

"Chishiya?" You whisper, taking a step closer.

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

He takes a step closer, closing the already small gap between you. "Are you incapable of making your own decisions?"

"No?" You shake your head.

"Then don't ask."

If you could freeze a moment in time this would be it, his hand resting against your hip, albeit awkwardly. His lips pressed against yours, your body ignoring the need for oxygen by supplementing it with a need for him.

He is the one who breaks the kiss, his eyes mapping out your face before smiling a little. "You'll be fine."

"You have to come back."

His tone was definitive. "I will. I should leave now, don't come out until I leave. I'll tell Kuina to come in here."

You so badly wanted to beg him to stay, the fear that he was walking into his death was almost crushing and despite how final the words felt you'd hate yourself forever if you missed an opportunity to say them. "I love you, please be safe."

"Tell me when this is all over." He places a light kiss on your forehead before extracting himself from your hold and leaving the room. You watch as the door closes behind him, the silence in the room is deafening without him.

You tried so hard to ignore the sound of the front door opening and closing, so so hard, but you couldn't, you couldn't stop yourself from hearing him leave nor stop the tears you'd been holding back since early morning.

He was gone and you, you were truly realising just how lonely the Borderlands were.

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love-toxin · 2 years

Text

knowing me, knowing you - eddie munson & steve harrington

plot: new boyfriends eddie and steve overhear jason trying to ask angelface out, and they know they have to rescue you--not just because they're your friends, but because they can't let him steal you away from them and hurt you...even if you're not theirs, yet.

cws: established steddie, hurt/comfort, throuple, tw: homophobia, derogatory use of 'queer', bullying, threats, manipulation, jason's a huge dickhead, protective steve, mild violence, confessions, jealousy, threeway mutual pining, friends to lovers, eddie pov, fem reader.

word count: 2.6k

"...So we should go on a date, then. I'll take you to dinner."

Eddie sidles up quietly against the wall, risking a peek around the corner to check before he waves Steve over. Yep, Wheeler was right–there you are, leaning against the school outside with Jason fucking Carver, who cannot physically get any closer to you without it being considered a felony.

"No shit," Steve pokes his head out over his boyfriend's, whispering incredulously because Eddie knows he can't believe it either. Of course, the one person in the school that they both despise the most is making a move on you. Steve rubs Eddie's shoulder, hoping to soothe him as the two of them watch from their position of relative safety.

"Um, aren't you…aren't you and Chrissy..?" Jason shakes his head at you, but he's still smiling like he's still got it all under control.

"Nah, she…I heard she's been sleeping around. So I dumped her–girls like that aren't worth it. Not like you."

"That's not true!" Eddie whispers–he knows Chrissy, she's a sweet girl, and she definitely dumped him because he made one too many awful comments about her appearance. What a fucking liar. But he maybe says it a touch too loudly, because Jason's brow raises and just as he turns to look around, Steve grabs Eddie by the collar and yanks him back around the wall to hide. But once they hear you start talking again, they both slowly sneak a peek once more, knowing that Jason's eyes will be on you and you alone.

"Thank you, uh, I'm flattered, but…"

"But? Is there a but? C'mon, just one date." Such a pushy bastard, it's annoying enough to Eddie, but looking up he can see that Steve's practically got steam coming out of his ears. You fidget with your sleeve, the bag slung over your shoulder swaying as you do so while you try not to look him directly in the eye. "You're so cute when you get shy. C'mon, babe."

Oh, that "babe" is almost enough for Eddie to go fucking berserk, and he can feel that Steve is feeling the same–but they both agreed not to intervene unless it was totally necessary. They might be totally whipped for you, but they're not your babysitters and they both know that if they start acting like it, you'll just end up resenting them. Plus, the three of you are good friends right now, and you're one of the very few that doesn't think them dating is weird or somehow related to the devil, so to mess that up would result in a lot of nights moping around and watching sad movies in each other's laps that neither of them are emotionally prepared for at the moment.

"Y'know, we could even do some more stuff if you wanted…a little birdie told me that you have yet to lose something." You look scared. This is nowhere near good. Steve's hand digs into his shoulder, hard.

"Um…I-I…"

"It's okay to be inexperienced, babe. I can show you how to do it…show you how to make love. You can trust me–even if that's all you want, I'll let you use me for it." How manipulative can he be? Eddie knows there's no way you would ever do something like that, but he can also see now that Jason really just wants to get into your pants. Figures, he doesn't deserve your kindness or any part of you, so he's just scraping to get whatever he can, like a rat–and it gets worse when Jason starts touching your face, trying to get you to look at him. Steve quietly growls a "don't" from above him, kind of like a dog getting territorial. It's kinda hot, if he's being honest…focus. He has to focus.

"I'm not a virgin,"

You finally breathe, your eyes flicking up to meet the blond's whose hand is still on your chin.

"And you're not my type. Sorry." You gently push his hand away, and wait with shaky hands for him to back off. But both Eddie and Steve's anger increases when he just dips his face closer to you, almost like he's gonna kiss you–Eddie has to put a hand on Steve's chest to stop him from lunging forward, whispering a "Stevie, calm down!" quiet enough that neither you nor Jason notice while you're in your own little world.

"What do you mean by that? Explain it to me, so I can understand." His voice is low, but angry, fury simmering just below the surface like he's close to blowing up. But if he thinks he can just intimidate you into doing what he wants, then he's got another thing coming.

"What…What is there to explain? You're a bully. You're cruel. I saw what you did to Gareth's hand," Your brow furrows–god, you're so pretty when you're mad–and Eddie finds himself breathless as you raise your hand to your chest and push him, just hard enough for Jason to take a step back with an incredulous look on his face. "And you're always calling my friend a freak."

"Who, Munson? He is a freak! Why would you even want to be friends with someone like him? You're too good for that."

"No, I'm too good for you." Jason just shakes his head in disbelief, a scoff on his lips. Eddie's chest is so tight, heart beating so fast at the protectiveness in your voice as you say his name. "Eddie's my friend. He's sweet, and he would do anything for his friends. He's nothing like you–and that's why I like him."

You like him. He's on cloud nine right now, he wouldn't even notice if the world was ending. All his dreams are coming true, even if he never imagined Jason would be involved with them at all.

"You like that queer? Are you fucking serious?"

"Shut up! You're a cunt, Jason!" You shove him again, hard this time, your words spit with venom and your fists shaking with anger. But he's so proud of you for stepping away, you're so mature, and you don't even look back at him as you start walking towards the side of the building where they're hiding–until you stop suddenly, and Eddie realizes that Jason's grabbing you by the wrist to drag you back to him.

"You do not walk away from me, you understand that?!"

"Let go of me! I'm gonna tell-" Jason slaps a hand over your mouth, and yanks you close enough that your faces are only a few inches from each other. Too close.

"Who's gonna believe you?" Your eyes widen, and it is far past the last straw. Steve is shouldering past him and dashing towards the scene before Eddie even realizes he's gone from his side.

"Hey!"

With the kind of strength that befits a former high school athlete, Steve runs up and wedges himself between you two so he can shove Jason off, breaking his grip and sending him stumbling back while your friend stands protectively over you. You look a little dazed, confused, but when Eddie hustles over to take your arm in his and soothe you, it sets in that you're safe and you gladly melt into his embrace. You're so warm, and you're scared, but…he just can't help thinking about how soft you feel against his chest.

"You touch her again, and I'll make sure you regret it."

"The fuck are you doing here, Harrington?" Jason spits, flushed and clearly jumped up from getting interrupted. Eddie doesn't even want to think about what would have happened if Wheeler hadn't tipped them off, what Jason might have done to you if they weren't here–but if he somehow wasn't sure before that he always wants to be there for you, then he absolutely does now.

"Oh, y'know, hanging out. Seeing some old friends. Defending pretty girls against creepy douchebags. Whatever strikes my fancy." Jason's eyes slide over to Eddie, who feels and probably looks a lot braver with Steve in between them. He can feel you tense up against him when Steve says that, and he pulls his arms tighter around you to hug you closer. It's relieving to feel that you're comfortable with him, enough that you're clinging to his jacket and subtly nuzzling even deeper into him.

"What was that you said, again? 'Who's gonna believe you'? I think the school counselor would love to hear that. Probably would have to let the basketball coach know, though. And you can say bye bye to the rest of the season." Steve sounds so confident when he's ripping him apart, it's honestly kind of…well, it's not something you might find attractive, but Eddie certainly does, and by the awed look in your eyes he can sense that you feel the same. "Gimme a reason, dude, cause I would love to kick your ass right now."

Jason looks between all three of you, frustrated and wounded by the blow Steve's managed to deal him, but the intensity only lasts a couple seconds. Because before long, he's made his choice, and he brushes you all off and stalks away with his hands shoved in the pockets of his letterman jacket.

"Oh, Jason! Almost forgot!" Both you and Eddie are surprised to see him actually stop and turn his head when Steve calls out to him, his glare violent enough that all three of you can almost feel the holes burning through you. "You ever get near my boyfriend again, or Hellfire, or her, I'll rip you many, many new ones. You just gimme the word, big boy."

Jason says nothing, just spits, and gives all three of you the finger which Steve gladly returns before he turns and disappears through the door into the school. By the time Steve moves to walk back towards you two, Eddie's loosened his hug to let you slip out, but you're still clutching at his arm like it's a pier in a storm.

"Don't be scared, honey. You're okay." Steve affectionately rubs your head, ruffling your hair a bit in the process. But he's a lot more gentle than when he does it to Dustin or the other kids, careful, and fortunately so when you've still got such a disturbed expression.

"I..I thought he was gonna.."

"He won't. Stevie's got us–look how strong he is." Eddie smiles over at you, and rubs the hand you've got gripping his sleeve so you can feel his rings against your skin.

"Did you, um…I don't know how much you heard of that.."

"Well, we got to hear you call him a cunt. That was fun." Your eyes turn back to Eddie, big and doe-like, and god, there's rarely been a time he's wanted to kiss you more than he does right now. "...And I heard what you said about me."

Fear strikes across your face, and you quickly avert your gaze from him like it's too much to even meet his eyes. He hates how shaky you still are, even when the danger has passed–he never wants you to be afraid of him, scared of what he's gonna say next. Ever.

"I-I…Eddie, I…I don't want to ruin what we have. And I…Steve, I'm sorry I-" Your voice is trembling, and even though your head is turned away he can clearly tell you're on the brink of tears. But that's when Steve pipes up, a hand brushing your cheek as he guides you to look up at him.

"You had a crush on me, right?" You stutter, taken aback by his query, but he just keeps going. "You were younger, I remember. I was a senior. You used to wear your hair like,"

He motions around his head, trying to charade his way into describing it before his hands land on his hips.

"Like that. It was cute."

Eddie knows you're not nearly as close with Steve–you would definitely be considered friends, but you mostly know Harrington through him and you haven't spent much time together alone. Before they started going out, that fact would relieve him. He didn't even know that you and Steve knew each other before you all started hanging out.

"Listen, Eddie's not gonna say it, but he likes you. And I like you. And from what I can tell, you might feel the same. So," He raises both hands up to show he's being vulnerable, and steps around you to stand closer to Eddie's side. "If you don't, that's totally cool. We can pretend none of this happened–but if you do, and you don't mind sharing, well…we can stop running after you like lost puppies to make sure you're okay."

You're speechless, clearly. Your eyes dart from one boy to the next, searching for some sign that they're gonna burst into laughter and admit that it was all an elaborate prank. But all Eddie does is keep stroking your hand, until you slowly release it from his jacket and let him take hold of it.

"Is…this really happening? This isn't a dream, right?" You're the one who's incredulous now, and the two of them look between each other as a spark of fear ignites. It's just now occurring to Eddie and his boyfriend both that they might have made a huge mistake by saying this right now.

"I…y'know what, now I'm thinking this might have been a bad time to say all that. I'm sorry, I just, seeing you scared like that-"

"Did you mean it?" You interrupt Steve's near-frantic babbling, your eyes now intense in a way that Eddie has to mentally slap himself to not find as incredibly hot.

"Well yeah, of course. We mean it, right Eds?"

"Damn right." You look between the two of them. Are you still questioning, he wonders? Will you walk away, thinking they were liars this whole time, just waiting for a chance to make fun of you?

"Do you…wanna get some dinner?" Only now does your question come out as meek, soft, just like the absolute goddess that first came to Eddie to ask if you could get something from the theatre while Hellfire club was in session. He still remembers that day so fondly, the way the club members teased him for how gently he spoke to you and how he paused the game for a whole ten minutes just to explain what they were doing to you. And the first time you got frustrated with him, yelled at him for something stupid he did that he doesn't even remember anymore, and how whipped he realized he was when he witnessed how forceful you were when you were worried about him.

"Oh, like…now?" Steve's voice breaks him from his reverie, he didn't even realize he was staring at you, or that your eyes flicked over to stare right back.

"Yeah." You bite your lip. Mercy.

"Yes," Eddie sighs, his eyes totally fixated on you, like he's already lovesick. "Anywhere you want. I'll pay for yours."

"Think again, Munson. Keep your money, I'll cover everyone's. C'mon, beautiful." He snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face to bring him back to reality, drawing a giggle out of you in the process as he loops an arm around your waist and leads you away towards his car. He might have been left behind, if he wasn't still holding your hand–you give him a tug to pull him along with you, and he hurries up to walk on your opposite side from Steve.

It might be impossible to tell what's gonna happen next, what you're gonna say when you all sit down at a booth at the diner and have the conversation that he's been waiting so long to have–but it doesn't matter, none of it does. Because all those nights of lying awake with Stevie and talking to each other about you, about how perfect it would be to pull you into their little universe with them…now, it might be possible for it to all come true. There's a chance. And that's more than either of them could ever ask for from an angel like you.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #steve x reader x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #eddie's angelface #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #2k

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oisins-stuff · 1 year

Text

Little Person

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

lo'ak sully x metkayina (slightly autistic coded) male reader

warnings; nothing severe- mention of insecurity/not fitting in, sorta mental health mentions but in a gay way

summary; "One person in a sea // Of many little people"

no use of y/n

lyric inspired (Little Person by Matt Maltese), color thingy used?? {please tell me if the color idea is good or not}

I'm just a little person

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Lo'ak sat on the shore as the village settled down for the night. Him and his family had been there for a little while, so he found out that the ocean looked beautiful at night. The boy that soon walked past, however, made the ocean seem like another plain thing. You were beautiful, even if you didn't look all that unique. Lo'ak watched as you sat on one of the bouncy, netted pathways and dipped your feet in the water. As much as he wanted to say hello, to try to make a friend, he didn't think he should. He was already seen as a freak- demon blood- what would happen if he humiliated himself?

One person in a sea

Of many little people

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He thought about it for a few moments; even if he did somehow embarrass himself, it's not like he'd see you that often. There are a ton of Metkayina in the clan, what would it hurt? Lo'ak slowly approached you, trying his hardest to not seem like a nervous mess, because he had no reason to be. "Hey." he finally forced the words out as he stood in front of you. You looked down at the stranger just as the eclipse started and the ocean began to glow. "Hi." you stopped kicking your feet in the water and scooted over, silently inviting him to sit beside you. There was a long silence as you two look at one another, staring as if the other is a rare specimen. After a while you broke the silence, "You're Lo'ak, right? From the forest?" He nodded.

I do my little job

Live my little life

Eat my little meals

Miss my little kid and wife

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You and Lo'ak continued to talk for a few days, becoming decent friends. It was nothing exciting, life went on as usual, but it wasn't boring either. He was a nice addition, he made things fun. You never planned on making any more friends; your social group was already enough for your standards. You weren't very out going, but you couldn't really remember if you were born like that or if that's how you ended up as you grew older. Either way, you were okay with it. Your simple life was alright, it was better than being miserable, so that meant it was good, right?

And somewhere, maybe someday

Maybe somewhere far away

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Lo'ak had been deeply upset by the sudden uprooting of his life, literally moving continents one random day. He knew it was what needed to be done, but that didn't mean it wasn't painful. It was more than just moving away from everything he'd ever known; it was the fact that he had to because of what happened before he was born. He felt like he was born into this fate- like he'd always be a part of his parents past war - and it was true. He faced the consequences of the things before him, but you made it better. You made almost everything okay, and you didn't even try. You were funny, you made him laugh, you knew what to do to help. You were one of the few people who understood what it felt like to not want to acknowledge an issue, to distract yourself instead, and you helped him do that. Even though he had to travel far, far away from his home, you made it worth it. In a way, he left home to find a better one with you. You made any place feel like home.

I'll find a second little person

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That pathway by the ocean had become your spot. Whenever you two needed something, you'd go there at night. It was a safe spot, it was where you had your deepest conversations. It was where you'd met, where you'd gone from strangers to friends. Lo'ak decided that this would also be the place you went from friends to something more. He accepted how he felt, because there was no way a friend would make him feel like this. He sat patiently waiting for you, ears perking when he finally heard you. You sat gently beside him, letting him start the conversation. "I think... I think we need to talk." he muttered after a while, looking down at the glowing ocean. "What's up?" you sounded calm, but really, you were terrified. Losing him would be the worst thing to happen, especially with all the war. You two needed each other, and that need was so strong that not having him would genuinely be unhealthy for you.

Who will look at me and say

"I know you

You're the one I've waited for

Let's have some fun."

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Lo'ak took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. His voice was almost shaky as he spoke, "I think there's something more than a friendship between us." Although his words were literally meant to be a confession, your heart dropped. You'd never really opened up like you were about to, but the words almost spilled out. "Lo'ak, I think there's something wrong with me. I don't think I'm the way I should be." you didn't look at him as you spoke, instead you watched the stars. Lo'ak didn't speak for a minute, so you continued. "I'm not like the others. I don't mean that in a fun way, I mean I really don't fit in, and I can't. I'm weird, I'm quiet, I don't talk to people, I don't get them, and they don't get me." maybe this was your way of confessing. Maybe your fear of being different was so deep, that it would be a part of your biggest confession. "Maybe that's why I feel the way I do. Because you get me, Lo'ak. Maybe... maybe I like you the way I'm supposed to like a girl." the familiar silence settled between the two of you again, but this time it was different. Lo'ak finally spoke up, his eyes fixed on the shimmering water ahead. "I'd rather not fit in than pretend I don't feel the way I do. I... I don't think I care what the others think, I like you like I should like a girl." It was almost impulsive, but you hugged him. You hated hugs, they were always so forced, but it wasn't like that. He hugged you back, and there seemed to be some level of relief shared between you two. Such a relief, a calming effect, that you fell asleep right there in your favorite place.

We'll take a road trip way out west

You're the one I like the best

I'm glad I found you

I like hanging around you

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Things didn't change much for you two, besides the occasional kiss and label as boyfriend instead of friend. You weren't bothered, though. The fact that you didn't act differently was actually comforting, it meant your connection was so deep that it didn't matter what you labeled it as, it didn't need a label. The idea was cute, though. As much as you didn't want to admit it, the dates Lo'ak would drag you to were cute. If anything; Lo'ak calling you his boyfriend made you want to become his husband. Even if you couldn't have children, it didn't matter. You loved one another so deeply that it was impossible to convince yourselves otherwise, and that made everything you had to go through better.

(I'm sorry for not writing for literal months; I've been so busy with moving and school and my surgery and school and moving and and and)

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emotionallyattachednerd · 2 months

Text

Play Nice | Cyberverse Dead End x f!robot | Dub-Con | NSFW 18+

Word count: 2900+

Warnings: Dub-con, smut ( touching, fingering, first time, spike in valve and rough interfacing ), piercings, angst and au where decepticons win. NSFW 18+.

Notes: I really wanted to write someone from Cyberverse, and I have a weird obsession with this guy. I wrote him being such a jerk and controlling as he messes around with an autobot, so just a heads up that this is again dub-con. Eat at it! 🥰

☕ Coffee

The end of the war resulted in the autobots surrendering to the decepticons, not the way they expected it to go, yet it happened. Now they were prisoners of war, spoils, the strongest sent off to the mines to work while the weaker looking ones were sent to the sale yard and sold off to the highest bidder. That was the autobots fate, no choice given, and there was nothing they could do about it.

You were a femme, not built for war, simply a desk clerk, so it was no surprise to you that you ended up in the sales. Looking around yourself you notice most either fought against their retrants, some putting on a brave face and accepting their fate, while you on the other hand, you were utterly petrified, and you failed to hide this from anyone.

Warm lubricants continually stream down your cheek platings while your frame quivers uncontrollably, anxious whimpers sounding from your lips while you keep your helm bowed low the entire time. The decepticons in charge of the sales relish your fear, taunt you, even touch you, but they didn't force themselves on you, because you were one of the few with your seals still intact, and that was apparently a high demand through the sales. According to them, you were worth a lot. Not that it made you feel any better in the slightest, quite the opposite, it only made you feel degraded and ailing.

No help was coming for you, that's the reality.

Once shoved out onto the platform the bids were placed, the number climbing higher by the second while you stood there trying to tuck yourself into the smallest ball possible in your standing position. It's horrible, you want to escape, and you day dream in that moment that an autobot will swing in and save you, taking you away from the abhorrent nightmare.

Then it happens, the final bid is placed, and it's over. You've been sold.

Your cuffed servos are grabbed and you're tugged forward, optics meeting pedes before your chin is gripped between firm digits and you're forced to look up at the winning bidder. Piercing white optics bore down into your meek baby blue optics, looking rather pleased with his purchase holding a stretched smirk.

"You're mine, autobot." There's something about his voice that sends crawling shivers through your frame, on top of that there is no hint of kindness, and this makes your spark chamber clench tightly against your pulsing spark.

Most of it was a blur before you found yourself pulled into what you assume was where he lived. Very luxurious, fine dark decor, pointing out that he had high ranking, not that made you feel any better. He just purchased you, like property, and called you his.

"Relax, autobot." That rusty yet silky voice hits your audios. "If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have spent a ridiculous amount on you. How you behave is up to you."

He comes back over and disables your cuffs. Finally, you're able to rub your sore wrists and not feel so tied down. You willingly meet his gaze and he still has that smug grin on him. He looked pretty damn proud indeed.

"The names Dead End. I'm one of Lord Megatron's favourite soldiers, so you should be very grateful with the life you'll have, but that all depends on you, if you're going to be a good femme and play nice, or to be a brat and give me a nagging headache. So, what will it be?"

The fight in you is gone, if it was ever even there before, you just don't have the strength or bravery to fight him. That would be stupid anyway.

"I'll be good." You barely manage to speak, but he hears it.

"Smart femme. Now, let's have a close look."

He grabs your servo and pulls you towards him, causing you to lift your other and hold it against his chassis while a frightened squeak left you. He lets out a light chuckle that vibrates against you and you bow your helm submissively. Weak and pathetic , that's all you are.

You bite back a whimper when you feel his servos dragging down across your waist and behind over your aft, digits gripping into your soft armour causing a soft creak to sound from the contact. He was mapping you out, feeling your frame, touching what was rightfully his now. His curious servos continue to roam, up and down over again, a long sickening dread flooding through your tanks.

"Stop." You barely whisper, voice meek and frightened. "Please."

"I don't think that's you showing me good behaviour. I didn't buy you so you can boss me around." He narrows his optics at you, boring deeply, making you cower under his dominating shadow.

"I'm just scared." Your spark was hammering rapidly against your chamber, as was your processor swirling wildly.

"I already said I'm not going to hurt you, so you shouldn't be so scared. Interfacing is fun, and you'll understand why soon. Like I said, you're mine, and we're doing things my way." Dead End continues his touching, admiring your frame and mapping you out, before he tilts your helm up to look at him again. "I hope you weren't lying when you were asked if you were a virgin and said yes. Are you still sealed?" His words dripped with a foulness, yet the air is clean.

"I-I am."

"So I'm not going to discover any unpleasant surprises?" He speaks so crudely, almost pouting a little like you were lying.

"No, no, I'm not lying, I promise." Meek, shuddering, your fear and anxiety corrupting through your entire frame and processor. How did it come to this? Losing the war, sold off like property, and now you're forced to do whatever this decepticon wanted.

His touch against your cheek plating was silky, in a sickening way, and he continued to caress the area with affection, before he took hold of your servo and pulled you towards the berth. The moment of dreaded truth. "Play nice for me, femme. Lay on the berth, spread those thighs, and retract your panel. I'm going to take real good care of you."

You don't want to, but you have no choice, and you let out a shuttered vent before moving towards the berth, a heavy sickening weight corrupting your spark chamber. Once on your back you find yourself staring at the ceiling, servos clenching against the berth covered in silks when you feel his weight crawling closer, his cold shadow looming over you.

Dead End likes the sight of your innocence, a growing hunger roaring through him with pride while he observes his new autobot pet. After everything, he's earned it, a prize to keep, and he was going to do what he liked with you. He'll teach you, have you moaning and begging for him, that was his promise.

Giving a silent prayer for yourself, you then spread your legs, taking a deep vent in and retracting your panel. Your helm turns on its side to avoid looking at him and that aggravating smug smile of his. Accepting this fate was your only option, that didn't mean it was going to be easy.

A startled yelp erupts from you when you feel his servo bluntly between thighs and cupping against your exposed valve. Your instincts kick in as your thighs close and you grab hold of his servo, trying to pry him away. He easily shoves your servo away and pins his weight on you.

"Don't do that."

Then you feel his knee pad pressing up against your valve that creates a surprising moan from you feeling your valve react from the contact. This makes you cover your mouth, optics wide and face heated with embarrassment that such a sound was made. You didn't mean it, or did you? He heard it, very clearly, and he seemed to really like it.

"Does that feel good? I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me. I'll have you making all sorts of sounds soon enough, it'll be fun." Dead End continues to rub his knee up against your valve while watching your reactions, relishing your confused growing desire that bursts from your face, no matter how hard you try to hide it.

Turning your helm to the side, all you can do is let it happen, even though this wasn't something you asked for, you can't deny the new bubbling pleasure pooling around your valve. Your sensitive node pulses, growing thrills rushing through your entire frame, dainty whimpers turning into low moans as you feel the pleasure he was creating in you.

Dead End's knee pad is already soaked with your fluids, and he grins with a happy greed filling him, drinking up your positive response. Leaning closer he tilts your helm to look back at him, before sealing your lips over his for a heated kiss.

Sure, you've been kissed before, but nothing like this. His kiss was hungry, dominant, and you feel his glossa invade between your lips causing you to let out a muffled whimper, before he lays himself between your thighs more snug and starts to grind his heated panel against you while devouring your lips.

He knew what he was doing, and he was bringing out all the forbidden pleasures from you. You hated it, but you also feel yourself liking it much to your scared confusion.

With shaky servos moving onto his shoulders, you start to kiss him back, innocently. He likes your response, letting out his own moan and deepening the kiss. Money well spent he thought to himself.

Your mind starts to blank while kissing him, slowly falling in sync with him and simply forgetting just how you ended up here, before your mind snaps back to reality when you feel his spike, now extended out, rubbing up against your valve. Breaking the kiss you shyly glance between your pressed bodies and let out a skittish whimper at his embellished spike.

Dead End had piercings, two frenum ball bars and a little ring at the tarped tip. He looks down as well with you and lets out a low chuckle. "Like what you see? These babies are going to become your obsession. Only my spike will be able to ever satisfy you."

Is that true? You don't have time to think too much before feeling his servo against your valve again and a digit being pushed in, prepping you. The small invasion causes you to let out a wince, clenching around his digit with dimmed optics. It hurts.

"As much as I do love a tight valve, you're only going to hurt yourself even more if you don't relax. Spread your thighs a little more, and ease your thoughts. I'll take care of you."

Listening, you do as says, trying to allow him to stretch your valve, feeling his digit curling against your inner channel and another slowly rubbing against your node, earning a skittish moan from you.

"That's it, good femme. You're a quick learner." Dead End praised before hooking his other servo under you, lifting your hips and aft up a little and shifting closer, before adding a second digit.

Another wince leaves you, before feeling his lips against your neck, nibbling against your soft cables, enough to distract you from the slight burning ache as he stretches your valve with his digits. He knew how to get you aroused, and that worried you.

Was this the fate of autobots? Sold off to the highest bidder? You knew Megatron was cold, but slavery? Were you a slave or his whore? Was there a difference? The overwhelming questions make you whimper softly, and you've been distracted so much that you didn't realise his digits were gone, only to feel a pressure against your valve.

Dead End decides it's time to claim his prize. He coats his spike with your fluids and starts to nudge your entrance, watching as the tip pushes through, along with the metal piercings. He lets out a gritted moan feeling you clench around him, before meeting resistance and smirks. "Good, you weren't lying."

You're tense, scared, embarrassed, you simply couldn't answer him. It hurts as he continues to press forward, seal slowly tearing, before he nudges through and you cry out, servos gripping tightly at his arms as he continues to push forward until he's fully flushed.

The pain wasn't as terrible as you imagined, but it still stings, and your emotions are running high, confused by the tingling thrill slowly boiling, there's a buzzing arousal slowly flooding through you.

"Nice and snug, perfect." He coos from above while looking rather proud. "Not so bad, hey? I'll have you overloading over again, you won't be able to help yourself."

You feel his ridged spike stretching you fully, pulsing through your channel along with the cold metal piercings. It causes your frame to quivery in ecstasy followed by another low whine, then he starts moving, withdrawing himself and thrusting back in, working himself at a steady pace while letting out his own moans.

Soft gasps leave you after each thrust, feeling his length and the metal piercings rubbing along your inner channel, him grinding down against your node in a luscious way. The pleasure bubbles rather quickly in you, and without even realising you clench your thighs around his rocking waist, drawing him closer as your servos hold onto his supported arms holding himself up.

Those piercings are oddly nice, an added stimulation through your channel that makes you let out light moans, falling into the forbidden pleasure that corrupts you. Something's happening, and you weren't sure what it was, but before you can think more about it your whole frame suddenly erupts with a bursting overload, frame trembling as your silky valve is soaked with sticky fluids as your back arches, followed by a sweet mewl from your vocals. At first you're confused by what just happened, never having felt like that before, and it's Dead End's amused chuckle that catches your attention.

"Already? Slag, knew I was good, but that was something else. Bet you've never had an overload like that before, not even by touching yourself." His words sink in and you're scared again.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" You're cut off by his digit against your quivering lips.

"Relax, you're not in trouble. You'll learn to control your overloads, and you've got a pretty good teacher. But I think you've got a second one in your still." There's no time to answer before he starts moving again, firmly snapping his hips against you that creates loud moans from you and tightly holding onto him.

All control was gone. Instantly, you cling onto him while letting out lingering loud mewls against his neck, unable to hide anything or keep quiet, rejoicing in the blooming pleasure quickly sparking through you even more. To feel such a luxury buzz, tingling from your sensitive valve, it leaves a confusing allure that you can't help but enjoy. You didn't want this or ask for it, yet it happened, and there's a small deep part in you that is glad it happened. Is that wrong?

"Beautiful fragging sight you are, perfect tight valve, singing loudly, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist." Dead End grunts through his smug proudness. "There will be even more pleasure once I give you your own little piercings. You'll be a dazzling sight."

There's no response from you, because you can't. The room fills with the sounds of both your moans, metal slapping together, the added creak of the berth under his rough movements as he grunts harshly with each thrust with your squeaked gasps. You feel it, the second overload about to pop in you, and he senses this before pressing his body more against your smaller body, grinding himself firmly against you over again and letting out growing heated vents. He's not far off either.

Then it happens. His warm fluids fill you, spike pulsing rapidly as his piercings press against your compulsing channel. His movements don't slow as he starts to rub your node with his digit, and that's all that's needed for your to fall through your second overload and clench around him even more tightly than before, a high pitched mewl sounding as you continue to hold onto him, before his movements finally slow into soft jerky thrusts.

Soft moans of pleasure is all that's heard from you, optics hazy and shuttering as your cooling fans kick in to help cool your quivery heated frame. Your thighs and servos still hold onto him, as if he's all there is, you just can't bring yourself to let go of him.

Eventually, he stops, and savours your valve a little more before removing himself, watching as his spike is extracted and leaving your gaping valve with nothing to clench onto. Your juices and his fluids soak between your two and the berth, and he's rather proud of the sight.

"Perfect. Leaking so much, good response from you babe."

Shame fills you. Allowing him to make you feel like this, to give in so easily, it makes you feel even more weak and pathetic. He notices this and caresses your cheek plating, surprisingly tender, affection even.

"You've got nothing to worry about anymore, I promise that babe. In time you'll see I'm not a terrible guy, and this life will grow on you. We're going to have so much fun you and I." Suddenly, his lips are over yours once again, slowly deepening the kiss between you two, and you give in yet again.

Yeah, plenty of fun.

#transformers #valveplug #tf cyberverse #dead end #reader insert #dead end x reader #autobots #decepticons #au #dub con #smut #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fandom #sugarrusheag

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brotherblaze · 1 year

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JAILBAIT³ —simon 'ghost' riley

▹ simon 'ghost' riley/gn!reader

▹ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

▹ synopsis: it's time to go home and Ghost finds himself realizing there's never enough time to spend with you.

▹ cw: suggestive themes, a sprinkle of angst

▹ wc: ~3,5k (idk what happened)

▹ please don't try to 'educate' me abt what 'jailbait' means especially if you haven't even read the fic

You pointedly ignore the rookies working out as you step into the gym.

Even when you pass the ones Ghost had scared shitless just days earlier, you keep walking, ignoring the familiar pull of desire to antagonize. The idea of messing with them is chased away the moment it arrives but yet it tries to linger. One last laugh at their expense, one last display of power that hinges on the existence of the hulking mass of a man you call your boyfriend (one that wouldn't even exist without the ties that bind you to him).

But between the desire to antagonize and the desire of spending money that isn't your own, Simon (and his money) reigns supreme.

Ghost has retreated to the very back of the gym. He's sitting on the floor, stretching, when you come into view. It's like he's drawn to you like a magnet, his sixth sense of your presence is honed to nigh-perfection because he's already looking in your direction when you see him.

He's shirtless, though still wearing his balaclava. For a moment, you allow your eyes to trail his impressive physique, the scars and burns and bruises a collection of constellations that make up Simon Riley.

"Men are being sluts again, nature is healing." you place your hand over your heart, glancing up as if to thank a higher power and Ghost can't help but roll his eyes at your antics. "I'd also love to see you all oiled up, by the way, or with a collar and a leash—either works, honestly. Just like, a little something to think about."

"Too much of a good thing..."

You don't reply immediately and Ghost can practically see the gears turning in your head, brows slightly furrowed, nose scrunched and lips parted. "A large piece... will split your mouth." A moment of silence, and then a look of disappointment. "Why do I even bother trying to translate proverbs? I hate English—horrible, ugly language."

It's not that he's laughing at you, or your inability to translate ("Shut up, Colonizer, how many languages can you speak?" you'd hissed at him once and Simon had promptly bit his tongue because you know seven languages and how could he ever compete with how effortlessly you speak them?) but because he likes your ability to slip into a wholly different language so effortlessly. You jab him in the calf with the nose of your shoe.

"What do you need?" Because you wouldn't set foot into a gym voluntarily if it's not the first thing in the morning just moments after the cleaning crew has left. Something about the mixture of sweat and the scent of axe body spray making the inside of your nose ache. He eyes the black surgical mask you're wearing.

"Why would I need anything? Maybe I just wanted to see my boyfriend who is very handsome, by the way." You bat your lashes, the flashy fake lashes fluttering. They're heavy but it's worth it for the dramatics.

Ghost raises a pale brow.

"Fine, I may be here with a proposal." You unlock your phone with one hand and pull the false lashes off with your other. You hand your phone to him, a picture pulled up on the screen, and dig into your pocket for the lash container. "You get a blowjob—I'll even negotiate swallowing—and I get a cowboy Ghost Rider figurine. Something-something, save a horse, ride a cowboy—speaking of, did you know that Russia's Catherine the Great is rumored to have died because she was fucking one of her prized stallions and the horse collapsed on her?" You carefully place the lashes into the lash container they came in and slide it back into your jacket pocket.

"Baseless rumors, I take it?"

"Well, duh; power-hungry men hate women. She died of a stroke. On one hand, girlboss, on the other hand, ew, a monarch. Glad she bit it." You level Ghost's gaze. "I will rejoice the day the British monarchy falls."

"I'll make sure to have streamers and party hats on hand." He stands then, and you extend the black towel thrown over your shoulder. His 'thank you' is clear but low and only for your ears. "You get everything done alright?"

"Yeah, as much as my non-existent security clearance let me do. Server maintenance was boring, nothing riveting which, y'know, is good. Then, I cleaned all the gunk out of Price's laptop and lectured him about clicking on random bullshit on the internet and he was like," you lower your voice to imitate Price, "'I was there when the internet was made' like okay, you living fossil. And then I didn't wanna bother you 'cause you were getting in the zone or whatever so I asked Johnny to come to the grocery store with me 'cause I wanted ice cream and I wanted to spend some time with Soap before I leave, so we went to the grocery store—"

"Breathe."

"And this mean old lady was at the store and I got the low-sugar kind of ice cream and then we came back." You take a deep breath and hold up a plastic baggie with ice cream and a few disposable spoons. "You want ice cream?"

"Did you fight an old lady again?" There is mirth to his tone, eyes crinkling at the corners. Smiling; he's smiling. The corners of your own mouth quirk up.

"Maybe. Rendezvous in John's office?"

Phrased like a question—but it isn't one. He's learned your patterns well enough, he knows when something is a request and when something is a question. You never give him time to answer a request, just state it and leave. Even now you pull away from him, muttering something to yourself as you make your exit.

Soap is the one who beats you both to Price's office. Price looks up from the papers on his desk when Soap enters, wearing the look of a man who's seen his own demise in the form of a human being. He says nothing, only visibly shudders before he collapses onto the worn leather couch in Price's office.

"I saw Jailbait verbally eviscerate an old lady."

Price laughs, actually laughs at that, laughs like he hasn't in a while. But he keeps his joy short, cutting himself off when he notices Soap's bewilderment. He's looking at Price with the utter confusion Price himself felt when he first heard you talking to a group of friends on a video call. "Still fighting with old ladies?"

"'Still'?"

"Jailbait used to babysit for this young single mother in the building. The old hag living next to her and the kid had a habit of running her mouth about everyone, but especially about those two back when she was still alive." Price winces. His chair creaks when he leans back slightly. "Jailbait never had anything nice to say about that hag. Supposedly all hell broke loose when they overheard a gossiping session. Whatever they told her seemed to get the point across. Never heard a peep again."

"She was a bitch and she deserved to know," you announce, standing in the doorway of Price's office. Ghost's tall stature looms behind you. You step in, discarding the lid of the ice cream tub in your hand into the trash. "I take a lot of pleasure in telling shitty old people to fuck off. 'Respect is earned' or whatever."

Ghost plants his weight next to Soap and you seat yourself in his lap. You hold the tub of ice cream out to him and pick up one of the spoons. The second one is passed to Soap and another to Price.

"You ate half of it," Ghost says, balaclava pulled up to his nose as he stares at the contents of the tub.

"I only ate the melting parts. Oh, and," you point your spoon towards Price, "I think she died; saw somebody moving furniture out of her apartment when I was leaving."

"I was away for five minutes." Ghost stabs his wooden spoon into the ice cream. It's soft. "Ever think she died because you were speaking in tongues?"

"Shut up, Colonizer, your Spanish has the thickest English accent I've ever heard." The tub of ice cream travels to Soap who digs his spoon in, and then to Price, still sitting at his desk. "By the way, I need Simon tonight and tomorrow morning, so there better not be some last-minute sudden mission bullshit." You spit over your left shoulder three times and Ghost frowns at the action.

"Did you spit on me?"

"No, but I can spit in your mouth if you ask nicely."

Ghost jabs his fingers into your sides and you yelp. A litany of curses escapes your lips, all of which Ghost ignores. He turns to Price, instead, pointedly ignoring the jab you try to deliver into his thigh.

"I'm seeing Jailbait off. Plane leaves at six."

"Our company that bad?" Soap jokes. He spots the slightest hint of a smile on Ghost's lips before it disappears.

"No, but the person who decided to put a base in the fuckin' desert is an ass and I need to see the sea." You level Soap with a look. "I would put you in my pocket and take you with me if I could. And Price?"

"Can't wait to hear where this is going to go."

"This better go on my CV 'cause I want to flex at my high school reunion in five years. Also, call me if they ever start building Evas 'cause one, I want to be there and two, I want to be immortalized by being one of the first people to work on it."

There's a faint 'what the fuck is an Eva' from Price. You throw your feet off Ghost's thigh and stand, stretching out the knots in your back. Ghost's knee bumps Soap's and he motions towards you with his eyes and when Soap looks at you, you're motioning for him to stand.

So, he stands, back as straight as a board. He can feel the weight of Ghost's gaze.

"MacTavish," you begin with a smile, "if I ever get to program an Eva, I'll fight tooth and nail so you could be my pilot." The curl of your lips is soft, all kind. It has his heart stuttering in his chest for a moment before he collects himself and returns your smile.

"It would be an honor."

You pause just as you're about to step forward, a small flicker of hesitation in your posture, then wrap your arms around Soap's torso. His gaze falls on Ghost, mind reeling back to the threats Ghost had made to the rookies and yet he only nods once. Soap slowly wraps his arms around your shoulders and relaxes into your hug.

"You're... pretty cool, I guess. Hangin' out was fun." It's a whisper against his chest.

"Yeah, you too." His own volume doesn't differ much from yours.

You move first, pulling away from him, and step back., turn on your heel to walk up to Price. His chair groans when he stands and pulls you into a tight hug. There are words exchanged, just like you did with Soap, too quiet to be heard by anyone but the two of you.

Soap spares a quick glance at Ghost whose gaze is pinned on you. There's a softness in his posture, slightly slouched, hunched shoulders. Like he's tired. It disappears the moment you pull away from your hug with Price and Soap spots the shaky smile you put on. There was no trace of Ghost, just Simon, Simon who is now buried again as Ghost's back straightens and he stands, tall and looming.

Ghost takes your hand in his when you leave.

He keeps you securely at his side as you make your way down the long gray hallways of the building. People walk past, minding their own business, some of them offering greetings, and Ghost's reply is always a nod of acknowledgment.

"Maybe once you get better at Spanish we can visit Alejandro and Rudy."

His announcement is sudden, voice a bit too loud and gruff to be Simon and it almost has you stumbling over your feet. You look up at him, and he's already looking down at you, an eyebrow raised.

The gaze you level him with is one he knows all too well; he can already feel the sigh of adoration-flavored exasperation in his chest.

"Wow, you have friends?"

"Pain in my ass."

And yet he still lets you sleep on top of him like a poor man's weighted blanket, head resting over his heart.

He doesn't want to wake you up.

You'd rolled off him in the middle of the night and he'd grabbed your arm to keep you from rolling off the cot entirely. He's spent the time since awake, staring at the calm rise and fall of your chest while you sleep like a corpse. (He finds himself somewhat jealous of your ability to sleep so soundly.)

Simon Riley lives in the shadows, the saturated grays of the world. He can't ever show you off to everyone who'd be willing to look, can't talk about you to anyone who would listen lest you be taken and used against him. His fingers are stained with blood and no matter how hard he scrubs he cannot get it out from underneath his fingernails.

And fuck, you deserve so much better than him; you deserve someone who'd immortalize you in their art, in poems and letters and paintings, marble statues carved in your image in museums where people from all over the world can marvel at your beauty—fall in love the same way he has.

His chest aches and his throat is tight and he tells himself the pain is in his ribs. He tells himself the pain is there because he was shot at.

He reaches out, fingers skimming along your thigh, his touch featherlight. You swat at his hand and bury your face deeper into your pillow.

"You've got a plane."

"No."

Simon grabs the back of your exposed thigh with his cold hand and you squeal. Your hand makes harsh contact with the bedframe and you swear loudly in a language Simon doesn't understand. Your voice is much lower in this language, and he's always liked this tone so much more than the one you use when you're speaking English. This one has a roughness your English lacks.

Briefly, he ponders over taking classes to learn it.

You grumble as you gather your things and follow him out to the car.

The ride to the airport is silent.

You're dozing off in the passenger seat, elbow propped against the window and cheek resting on the back of your hand. The town whizzes by outside, with very little sign of life at this hour. All the traffic lights are blinking yellow.

The car rolls to a stop at an almost empty intersection with a stop sign. A car is approaching from the right.

"I uh..." you pause, closed fist pressing against your eye as if to chase the sleep away. Your voice is still gravelly. "I got to talking about my past relationships in therapy last week. Realized I've met most of my exes at Halloween or masquerade parties—and I've always had this weird... disappointment, I guess, like, the moment they take the mask off. Even if they're objectively good-looking." You look at him. "But I don't get that with you."

Simon doesn't say anything; doesn't want to. Doesn't want to shatter the peaceful atmosphere of your confession, doesn't want to ruin it with his callous words and awkward sentence structure because every time he looks at you, his tongue feels like lead in his mouth and he forgets how to string his words together.

He just watches the car on the right cross the intersection and presses his foot down on the gas pedal.

"I always want to see you again." And you reach your hand across the console and hold it out for him. Simon takes it. His thumb traces circles against the back of your hand. Your grip tightens, three squeezes. He reciprocates the action.

The traffic lights stop blinking yellow. The roads become more lively.

Simon parks the car in the airport parking lot. He kills the engine, and it's silent again, neither of you making any effort to move, to get out and step into the brightly-lit airport.

Gently, you untangle your fingers from his, and trail up his arm, the column of his neck, the curve of his jaw. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. An audible exhale leaves him and you smile, the taste of it bittersweet on your tongue.

Simon leans in, his nose bumping against yours, his breath hot on your lower lip when he exhales.

His lips are chapped and his mouth is desperate and he steals the breath from your lungs. Teeth sink into your bottom lip and you whimper, the sound immediately swallowed by Simon's greed. An apology to your lip is the swipe of his warm tongue, his piercing knocking against your own tongue. He makes you dizzy, head swimming with nothing but him and his touch.

He breaks the kiss first; you have a flight to catch. Time. Time—it's always like he doesn't have enough time with you, one of you is always rushing somewhere, always away.

"Fuckin' hell, Riley," you say between deep breaths, waiting for the world to re-align on its axis. "I'm getting you a lip scrub the moment I get home."

His laugh is a low rumble and then he's kissing you again.

Too little time with you.

He takes your hand in his as you walk through the airport.

He stands a few feet away as you're checking in at the front desk, your manicured fingers tapping against the steel counter. You pull your black surgical mask down at the lady's request and flash her a quick smile, then another towards Simon who can't help but mirror you from behind his own mask.

("Airports are hotbeds for disease," you'd said, hanging him one of the surgical masks in your bag, "not lettin' someone's grandpa cough in my mouth.")

Just a little while later you're standing next to Simon, watching your neon yellow suitcase take off on the conveyer belt.

You find a quiet corner away from the prying eyes of the world. Simon wraps his arms around you, pulls you against his chest, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers clutching onto the back of his jacket as if you're trying to claw your way into his skin and hide in the space between his ribs.

His grip is tight, fingers digging into your flesh so hard it'll bruise. Sometimes he doesn't know his own strength, the little crescent-shaped scars on your hips a witness to his prowess. He'd looked heartbroken, hands shaking and jaw clenched tight, begging, pleading you to tell him when he's too rough.

But it's nice—his hands feel like safety.

When you part, he pulls your masks down to place another kiss onto your lips and the world tilts again. You clutch onto the lapels of his jacket to keep yourself upright.

And then you part again, for the final time, and Simon watches you disappear from sight as you turn the corner towards the departure lounge.

He lingers at the airport for nearly an hour until his phone rings.

"You make it okay?"

"God, people love to try my patience. Some lady approached me and asked if I could switch with her so she could sit with the rest of her family. So I ask which one her seat is and she goes 'oh it's in economy', I just laughed in her face. Now her husband is glaring at me. Like, fuck, buy your own business class tickets, who the fuck is gonna swap business for the ass end of economy?"

He listens, lips curling slightly when he tries to imagine you telling a middle-aged woman to fuck off.

You exhale, adding another swear under your breath, venom-laced and sharp as a knife. He can vaguely hear people talking in the background. The call stretches on, neither one of you wanting to hang up so soon.

"Simon, what do you call the wife of a hippie?"

"Copy. Behave."

"Me? Always." He can hear the grin in your voice and it eases the ache in his chest, his heart thrumming like it's a captive hummingbird desperately searching for an escape. When your voice rings out again, it's small, with a hint of an uncertain tremble. "Don't... d-word."

"Not even death itself could keep me from you."

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod x you #cod x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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