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roseghoul26 · 9 days

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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life.

Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are.

Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage.

The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you.

You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him.

You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.

It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be.

It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important.

He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was.

How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this.

You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.

You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards.

You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.

You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice.

Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey.

You almost wished it had torn you apart then.

Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion.

The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in.

Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.

The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close.

The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight.

The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.

However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it.

Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth.

If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought.

Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck.

Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.

The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.

Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name.

With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty.

The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too.

So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.

“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”

Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened.

Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes.

“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone.

You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.

“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”

He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.

“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”

He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”

It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out.

The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.

Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.

Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words.

You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”

One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark.

You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”

Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.

“Can-”

“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.

Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred.

You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame.

“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.”

His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips.

“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched.

But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.

“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.

“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death.

“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features.

“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered.

You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.

If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body.

You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside.

As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.”

When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately.

He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”

You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again.

“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.” Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this.

You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself.

Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand.

“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours.

It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something.

But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.

“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like.

He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you.

He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified.

You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it.

“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.

His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it.

He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it.

You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”

Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs.

Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you.

As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret.

Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.

You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”

This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.

With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again.

“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.

It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.

Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair.

When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks.

You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.

Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat.

“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.

You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing.

Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”

Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans.

He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat.

He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own.

So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring.

“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it.

You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”

His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles.

Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.

With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit.

You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.

“You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him.

You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.

He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke.

You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.

With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.

When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer.

He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now.

“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck.

It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.

A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body.

He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.

Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.

He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck.

“You,” you gasped out.

“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.

Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction.

He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.

“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.

Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.

Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist.

You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand.

His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny.

With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.

It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin.

He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back.

Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry.

The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.

Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.

It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.

“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier.

Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader

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satoruly · 6 months

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𝘿𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎 𝙃𝙄𝙈 𝙐𝙋 .ᐟ.ᐟ

costumes that the jjk men would wear for halloween

includes. toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami

tags/warnings. fluff, no curse!au, i like to think gojo's is a college au too, suggestive, mentions of oral in toji's, gojo is called a slut (jokingly), fake blood.

a/n. i love satoru i swear and suguru's is so cheesy idk if i cringe or not idc i think he's lovely. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune

got a request? click here !!

𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗻 '𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁' 𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘆 ₊˚⊹ 𝘁. 𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼

“I look ridiculous.”

“I bet you don’t,” you spoke from where you sat on the bed, legs crisscrossed as you waited for your boyfriend to come out from the bathroom “Just show me”

He had taken longer than you thought to get ready, longer than you had, but in retrospect, you guess you should’ve seen it coming with the amount of belts you had handed to him and no instructions to work with, you guess it was really on you.

“This was a mistake.” He mumbled through pursed lips once he came out, looking off to the side, his slightly overgrown hair obscuring his eyes. Without the vest and belt, it was practically an everyday outfit for him, a navy blue hoodie with a pair of blue cargo pants. The latter did differ from his day-to-day wear but it was okay, he was gonna wear his New Balance sneakers once you were ready to leave so it cancelled out.

“I want to suck your dick so bad right now.”

“I look like a glorified back-pack”

“Where did you learn the word glorified?” You joked, though only half-heartily because you were too busy staring at your boyfriend’s thighs concealed by not only way too tight pants but by very tight garters. You wished he would keep them on the daily. Luckily though, your primitive brain had no completely taken over and so you were able to process his lack of response to your off-handed blow job proposition.

“Im wearing kneepads like a fucking loser.” He raised his knee to emphasize his point, letting his foot rest on the ottoman at the end of the bed and practically throwing the skeleton mask you hadn’t noticed he had been holding on top of the covers.

You stood up, gave him a once look over and walked towards him cupping his face with your palms. One of your thumbs rubbed the skin of his cheek now coated by a very subtle pink, one you’d only be able to notice if you squinted.

“You don’t look like a loser, personally I think you look very very hot,” you assured him, “but if you really don’t like it you don’t have to wear it, we can find something else for Satoru’s party.”

He huffed, unconsciously leaning against the warmth of your palms, eyebrows still twisted into a frown. “It’s not that, just— you’d really suck me off dressed like this?”

You hummed, giving him a light peck on the lips before trailing your hands down his chest, ignoring the plate carrier that bulked him up more than he already was.

“Like now?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, the usual sultriness it carried back where it was meant to be.

“Depends,” you pondered, biting back a smile at the suggestiveness. “How long ‘till we have to leave?”

He cursed at the number of pockets he had to go through before finding his phone stashed on the back of his pants, eagerly examining the time and then showing the lit-up screen to you. “Like 30 minutes.”

“Then sure,” you looked up at him, not breaking eye contact as you undid his utility belt, letting it fall to the floor before slowly working to unzip his pants. “I’ll be quick."

𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 ₊˚⊹ 𝘀. 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼

“I was gonna buy the tights but the imprint of my d—”

“Okay! We are changing the subject…” You almost slapped your palm over your boyfriend’s mouth before he could continue. Successfully [stopping] Shoko and Utahime from hearing the not-so-safe-for-work details of your costume shopping trip.

Looking back, it was kind of funny. Satoru wasn’t all that fond of superheroes but one singular video of a hot guy on his fyp was more than enough to convince him he was willing to commit to the transformation. In reality, you’re sure he just wanted to wear the tights. That's why he almost cried when all the ones at the costume shop turned out too small to cover his ankles.

He had tried his best to make it work but to no avail and had settled instead for a black pair of cargo pants, and though they weren’t the classic Nightwing tights he had envisioned, you swore they were so much better.

“It’s nice,” Shoko pointed out, taking a drag of her cigarette, directly juxtaposing her surgeon costume. The scrubs and lab coat she wore were likely taken from the faculty of medicine last minute. “Thought you’d use Halloween as an excuse to dress up sluttier though.”

His offended gasp almost made you burst out laughing, the hand you had used to shut him up still muffling his dramatics.

“Oh, he’s a slut alright.” You joked, now resting your hand on his chest and taking a sip of your drink to hide your smile as your boyfriend decided to run with your joke.

“Yeah exactly,” he chuckled, leaning against your head and smushing his cheek in the process and circling one of his arms around your waist. He couldn’t spend a single moment not touching you, and though you played tough, you couldn’t help but lean against his touch every single time. “It’s the energy.”

And it sure was. Even if his current costume was way more tame than the bunny boy one he had chosen last year, he was still giving ‘slut’.

Although you were quick to shut down his previous comment, you’d be lying if you said the mildly accurate costume didn’t do things to you. For one, props to him for making progress at the gym. The loose material stretched out over his thighs every time he made the slightest flexing motion. Sitting, standing, going up the stairs, no matter what he did was a sight for sore eyes. Then, you had the compression long-sleeved he wore. Though it technically was a “costume” and not a compression shirt, it still hugged his arms and chest so deliciously you swore you could moan.

And of course, how could you forget about his ass.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Utahime asked, looking at your pleated pants, loose light blue shirt with most of the top buttons undone, and a pair of sunglasses.

“A slut.” You shrugged, enjoying their confusion until it finally clicked.

“You’re dressed as him!”

𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗹 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻 ₊˚⊹ 𝘀. 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼

“Nope, we need another one.”

Suguru groaned in dismay, so close to banging his head against the door frame as you rejected yet another costume you had suggested, or more so, insisted he should wear. At this point of the day, he was sure his skin was sore from the constant friction of multiple garments’ fabrics.

“Why? I think this one’s good.”

You tilted your head, looking him up and down before pursing your lips. You won't deny he looked good. He always looked good. But, “We’re going to a costume party.”

“So? This is a costume.”

“Yeah but…” You trailed off, wondering if he’d take personal offense for the comment you were about to make regarding his fashion sense. “It kinda just looks like you.”

Now it was time for him to tilt his head in confusion, squinting at you as if to prompt you to elaborate and you sighed before continuing, “Besides the boots, actually, no, you do use those, it's pretty much a normal outfit for you.”

He looked down at himself, eyes meticulously scanning every inch of his body to then look up at you. “I’ve never worn a poet shirt before.”

“But the vibe,” you pointed at him up and down with your hand, “is there.”

“What vibe? Suguru Geto from the 19th century?”

“Ish? Yeah.” You agreed, standing in front of him to fix the collar of his shirt. “You look like you belong in a romanticism painting minus the high-waisted pants, which fyi make your ass look great.”

He chuckled, turning around to stand in front of the full-body mirror next to your vanity to check himself out, subtly taking a peak at his ass. It did look really good in those pants.

“Let me try the necklace and you can decide.” He grabbed the thin chain and gave it to you for help. Holding his hair up, he couldn’t yet again chuckle at the reflection as you tried to stand up on your tip toes to hook the clasp around his neck.

It added some depth, he thought. The white shirt and black pants combo was something he would wear. The added jewellery made it look a little less like him, but the matching earrings were still missing.

“—and I know what you’re thinking, so I got these.”

You stretched your palm in front of him, a pair of new gauges resting on it. Unlike his, they weren’t black, more so a pale golden color.

“They match the color of the necklace and if you want to wear the earrings you can loop them through there.” You pointed out, and upon closer inspection, once he held them in his hands, he could see there was a little hole at the bottom of them. “But you can also not wear them if you don’t wanna, thought it'd be a nice detail.”

“I thought you weren’t sure about the costume,” he kissed the top of your head, mumbling ‘thank you’, and carefully slipped off the ones he was wearing. The way you beamed as he started doing so didn’t you escape him, and it made him all the more eager to try them on even if they felt cold against his skin and were out of his comfort zone. He had never really been a fan of gold on himself.

“Eh, I might’ve been more committed than I let on.” You hugged his waist, looking at him through the mirror as he grabbed Howl’s dangly earrings. He looked pretty. “What do you think? Looks good?”

He hummed, shaking his head slightly and chuckling at the earrings swishing against his skin. He wasn’t used to wearing those, it felt funny. “It’s still missing something though.”

“What’s missing?�� You asked as he moved fully in front of you. He pressed his thumb in the middle of your furrowed brows before kissing your forehead and then giving you a quick pick on the lips.

“The matching promise rings.”

𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻 ₊˚⊹ 𝗸. 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶

“You’ve always wanted to murder your coworkers, now you can pretend you have!”

“I’m never wearing this outfit again.”

“See! You can even make the references, it’s perfect.”

But you had to give it to him, it would be much more of a costume if he wasn’t wearing a suit that closely resembled what he used to wear for work. A fitted black suit, a crisp, freshly ironed shirt and a red tie, everything covered up by a transparent raincoat. And to be fair, the plastic did make a funny noise whenever he walked.

The only missing piece of the costume was the blood, which led you to where you were, standing over old newspapers in case you stained the kitchen floor.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” He shook his head as you walked around him with a bottle of fake blood, excitedly pouring the runny liquid into strategic places for it to look organic like he had actually killed someone. He wasn’t a Halloween nor a dress-up fanatic per se, but the promise of a good costume party had set you off into a never-ending search for the perfect costume until you had finally settled on one. The perfect one.

You nodded at his words, carefully creating a couple of splotches with a paintbrush before you could finally admire your masterpiece. “Now the only thing we are missing is your face?”

“Pardon?”

“We gotta put some blood on your face.” You said sitting up on the counter, careful not to knock down the FX makeup kit you had gotten. Making space between your legs, you pulled him from his belt loops towards you, and automatically, his hands positioned themselves right on top of your hips. Without you needing to tell him, he leaned closer to you, lowering his height just enough for you to reach his face properly.

“That was not part of our deal.” Yet, he stayed as still as possible as you used a smaller dropper to carefully apply the liquid to his temple close to his hairline.

“Close your eyes.” He did as you said, and you proceeded to imitate the splotches without staining his whole face, just his forehead and cheeks. Some of it dripped down his eyebrow and towards his eye, but you caught it fast enough for it to not stain his lashes. Hopefully, that’d be the only ‘liability’ you’d experience for the night, you really didn’t want his shirt to stain. “And we are done!”

You grabbed your phone and turned on your front camera for him to look at himself.

“What do you think?”

He stared at his reflection for a couple of seconds trying to figure out if he liked it or not. While he did so, he couldn’t help but subtly flicker from you back to him a couple of times, looking at your eyes creasing in excitement. The warm smile on your lips was contagious, the way you scrunched your nose when he kissed your forehead as if scared he’d get ‘blood’ on you too cute, and so he couldn’t help the gentler one that appeared on his.

“I like it a lot.”

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months

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Little Ghost

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader Drabble

Thanks so much to @puff0o0 for drawing this and feeding me more ideas for GirlDad!Simon "Ghost" Riley.

(I didn't give the baby a name, I would've opt for Charlotte but idk what y'all want to name your children)

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

Your little toddler asking you, her momma for help. She had several drawings of her dad, you and her. She's been pointing non-stop while babbling at her drawing of her dad, with his mask on.

"Yeah love, that's dada.." You said to her with your head tilted, trying to understand what she was telling you. The little one whined in frustration, she wanted so bad to communicate what she wanted but she was only able to say a few words.

She had to demonstrate to you what she was referring to in the means of actions, she took her baby blanket on the couch and placed it over her head, somewhat resembling a mask.

You further encouraged her later on by giving her one of Simon's older masks and it seemed to have cheered her up, even though her head was too small for it and the mask's eye hole goes through her head perfectly like a shirt.

That's when you had the bright idea to surprise Simon, taking inspiration from the baby carrier you and your husband bought for your baby (he couldn't do anything but grumble about the fact that it was pink), you decided to make her a mask tailored to her.

It wasn't hard finding the materials, you already had a pink stretchy fabric from your old shirt and that plastic skull decoration you got from last Halloween. Oddly enough you got it because it was similar to Ghost's mask, it was time you repurposed it.

• ──── ✦ Time Skip ✦ ──── •

Ghost finally found himself home after being on a mission for almost two months, he opened the door, prying his keys off them and gently nudge it closed.

He looked around throwing his duffle bag on the ground near the shoe rack, he found himself smiling at the two pairs of shoes there. Yours and what he thought was the tiniest pink shoes, a space unoccupied at the right side to be completed by his pair of combat boots.

"Dada!"

Simon turned his head, looking further in towards your shared home to see his little girl stumbling towards him. Only to his amusement, she was wearing a pink version of his mask. Simon let out a chuckle, a proud boisterous one.

"Lovie, did you make that for her..?" Simon asked you after seeing you turn the corner to almost tackle him in a hug, the amusement in his voice still quite clear. You nodded your head before replying "Well I only helped, our mini Ghostie did most of the work". That earned you a forehead kiss from your husband.

He lifted your little one up after she looked at him and said "Up-py dada, uppies please", her tiny arms gripping his shirt while he carried her. The little mask reminded him of the time you surprised him with baby mittens with skeleton hands printed on it.

You kissed both their cheeks sending your little one into a fit of giggles while she tried to kiss her momma back. Simon just stared at the sight, feeling happier that he's home to his family.

Yeah he's definitely going to bring that pink mask along when he takes the little one to see the Taskforce again..

(The Taskforce interacting with little baby Ghost...)

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon #cod fluff #cod headcanons #cod drabble #cod mwii #simon riley x plus size reader #ghost x plus size reader

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

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Skeletons in the Closet // D. Grayson x gn!reader

Requested? Yep!

Warnings: reader is followed home at night!!! if anyone ever follows you home, you have my consent to beat the everloving shit out of them!!!! your life is far more valuable to a fucking creeps!!!

Summary: While being followed home after work, you get a call from your boyfriend. He sends in some help from a friend. Things are realized.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck fuck.

With your keys clutched tightly between your thumb and palm and your pepper spray poking out from your grip, you hurried down the street with your heart racing faster each step. Another glance over your shoulder confirmed it. You were being followed.

You had to stay late at work because two of your coworkers had the flu and this was the punishment you got for trying to be nice. Fuck this. Fuck capitalism. Fuck the world and having to be scared walking to your fucking apartment.

And just your luck, the red line stop near your apartment was closed for repairs to the platform structure so that meant you had to walk an extra four blocks to get home. Fuck.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden jolt to your system. With shaking hands you swiped your thumb across the screen and pressed it against your cheek as you kept walking.

“Hello?” You really hoped that the person on the other line couldn’t hear the pure, visceral fear in your voice but you doubted it.

“Hey. I was just calling because you never texted that you left work or got home.” Oh. Right. Your boyfriend of three months, Dick Grayson, was a perfect gentleman and he always appreciated a text from you when you got home at night, whether it was from work or a night out with friends. He didn’t care if you were out late partying. He just wanted to make sure you were home safe at the end of the night.

“Right, shit. Sorry. I just got out of work a half hour ago and…” You glanced back at the guy following you and dropped your voice. “Someone’s following me. I’m about ten minutes max away from my apartment and I’ve got pepper spray, but you should know that I-”

“Where are you?” His voice had grown frigid in the time you were rambling and you peered up at the street sign you just passed.

“Avalon and Fifth.”

Dick inhaled deeply and then said something away from the phone, as though he was talking to someone in the background. He moved back closer to the phone and started talking quickly.

“Okay, baby, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to put my friend on the line and she’s going to keep talking to you, okay? And in the meantime, I have another friend in the area and he’s going to come meet you. Keep walking towards your place. Don’t stop moving. Barbara will talk you through it.”

The line clicked before you could say anything and then a calm, pleasant voice filled your ear. “Hi, I’m Barbara. Dick’s told me a lot about you. Did you know he’s kind of obsessed with you?”

The sudden levity of the question elicited a laugh from you as you hurried down the darkened street. You could hear the footsteps getting closer and it made your throat close with anxiety.

“Hey Barbara, what’s going to happen?” you asked quietly.

“Don’t you worry about that. Just keep walking. You’re doing fine. Why did you stay late at work?”

“My coworkers are sick. Flu season and all that.”

“Hmmm, viruses are a bitch.” There was something in her voice that indicated more to her comment than you knew, but you didn’t have time to pry. The closer you got to an ally, the faster the steps sounded until the guy was full on sprinting towards you.

“Fuck,” you gasped as you turned to watch him barrel at you. Before he could get within three feet of you, a blur of black and blue swung down from seemingly nowhere and then Nightwing was standing over him, escrima sticks clutched tightly in his hands.

“Go,” the vigilante barked. He looked back at you and what a sight you probably made. Shaking, phone pressed to cheek and other hand gripping keys and pepper spray, and what felt like tears streaming down your cheeks, you stared back at the mask covered eyes. His chin dipped and you realized that he was inspecting you for some kind of injury. Nightwing raised his head to stare at you once more and then he jutted his chin out towards you in a silent command. The silvery white scar on his lower jar stood out under the light of the street lamps.

“Go,” he repeated. The man below him tried to sit up and the vigilante snapped one of his bludgeons down onto the man’s arm with a sickening crack, eliciting a scream from the man. You almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

You didn’t need another prompting and instead you turned, tucked tail, and sprinted the rest of the way home. You nearly forgot that Barbara was on the other end of the phone until you heard her call your name.

“I’m…I’m okay. I think. I…I’m okay.” Your hands shook so hard as you tried to unlock the door to your apartment that your dropped your keys and cursed under your breath. Scooping them up once more, you tried again and flew into your apartment.

“I’m home. Door’s locked. I’m fine. I…fucking hell. What just happened?”

“Hey, hey,” Barbara said. “Breathe with me, okay? That was a scary situation. Breathe. In two, out three. There we go.”

The fragments and pieces of your scattered brain started to knit an image together of what just happened. As the adrenaline receded, you were able to try and come to terms with the events of that night and one thing stood out to you.

The scar on his chin.

Nightwing’s.

The same scar that you pressed a kiss to in thanks for coffee. The same scar you made sure to pepper with kisses when your boyfriend curled around you and fell asleep against your chest. The same scar that you looked up at when he pulled sweet moans out of your lungs.

“I’m going to kill him,” you hissed.

Barbara barked out a laugh. “Please make sure to film it for me.”

“Oh, I will.” You tossed your keys and pepper spray onto the table just as a shadow passed over the window of your living room. “It’s been nice meeting you, Barbara, but I have to go strangle someone.”

“I’m going to put your number in my phone and we will be getting coffee soon.” You gave her a final goodbye and then stalked towards the window. Your phone tumbled onto the plush cushions of the couch as you passed. Yanking open the window, you stuck your head out and glared at the vigilante standing on the far end of your fire escape.

“So this is why you always make an excuse to not stay the night,” you snapped. Anxiety had turned to rage real quick. Nightwing grimaced and raised his gloved hand to run his fingers through his hair. It was then that you saw the fresh blood that mottled his knuckles and you knew exactly where it came from.

“And also why I make sure you get home at night,” he added quietly. You crooked your finger at him and he complied wordlessly. His footsteps were nearly silent on the old fire escape and you took a moment to marvel at how such a muscular man was able to move so quickly and quietly.

“Is this it? Any more skeletons in your closet?” you asked.

“You know about my family, so no. No more skeletons.”

“I’m going to ask Barbara when we go and get coffee,” you breathed against his lips. Dick paled slightly before he cleared his throat.

“That’s fair.”

“Now get in here and get that suit off. I’m still mad at you but I could really do with a hug right now.”

He didn’t protest.

Tag List: @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @bunny-kawa @khaylin27

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #richard grayson x reader #richard grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine

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magic-hcs · 7 months

Note

So here's a scenario.

S/O is a confident, kind and relaxed person who seems like they can do everything perfectly . But one day the skeleton found out S/O were talking on the phone, responding with only "yes, yes... I know, I'm sorry I'm not good enough ...yes..." while tears falling quietly. Turn out it was S/O's family, always think S/O are not good enough and tell S/O as such, didn't care they hurt S/O's feelings. This is why S/O do everything perfectly, to reach up their family's expectations, and they gain confidence from it, but still feel they are trash when be told it's not good enough by family.

How would Sans, Red, Bear and Syrup react to this situation?

Thank you so much for being so patient with me! I’ve found that I struggled way too much with this for a while, however I don’t give up quickly. I hope it was worth the wait!

Red: UF Sans

Bear: HT Sans

Syrup: US Papyrus

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

Sans: When Sans found out what your parents were like, Sans was speechless. It pains him, knowing that your family treats you like that. He could never phantom being anything but supportive towards his younger brother and Papyrus doing the same for him.

It’s not his business to meddle into your family affairs, so he won’t try to intervene or scold your parents: what good would that do? He could make it worse. No, Sans has a different idea. What kind of idea? Well, he regularly invites you to Paps and his family day/nights. Letting you join and experience this side of what family is; supportive, encouraging, and kicking butts into gear when someone’s being lazy in a caring way.

If your parents bring you down, the skelebrothers will bring you up. Showing that no, you are good enough, that you can do it, that you aren’t alone and that there’s someone standing behind you. That there is someone out there who really cares about you.

✨✨

Red: Red has always admired how you are so confident and how you work so hard. At first he just thought you did that for yourself. Red thought that sometimes you had insecurity spells that would hit you at random times which would leave you timid and a yay-sayer for a few days before returning to your old self. But then he found out what was really going on. And suddenly Red really wanted to have a little chat with your family.

How had he found out, you may be wondering. It was by pure coincidence really, Red had fallen asleep on the couch and you were calling with your parents. Red can be a light sleeper sometimes, and it so happened that it was that kind of day. Waking up to your voice, Red listened drowsily.

“Yes, I’m not good enough…”

That woke him right up. And as he continued to listen to the one sided conversation, Red didn’t need to know what your parents said to connect the dots. Oh, yes, Red was pissed. You won’t be wrong to believe that Red shortcuts next to you to snatch your phone from your hand. His words are an intimidating growl that sends shivers down even your spine despite it not being directed at you.

“sew ya fuckin’ bullshit mouth shut.” He barked, and when your parents tried to speak up again Red continued, “get lost and fuckin’ die in a ditch!” Promptly hanging up afterwards, not even waiting for a reply. Not the best choice of words to get your parents to understand how wrong they are about you and the way they treat you. But Red was too angry to really care. No one treats his mate like this, not even the parents.

Red isn’t that good at comfort, however, that doesn’t mean he’s not there for you to aggressively support you in his own way.

✨✨

Bear: If Bear had feathers, they would be ruffled right now. Bear pretty much shares Red’s sentiment: No one treats his mate like that, not even your parents.

But unlike Red, Bear isn’t one for verbal threats. When he knows you’re talking on the phone to your parents and they talk horseshit Bear will just grab the phone out of your hand - rather gently despite his anger, I might add - and quietly listens to your parents discouraging spiel for a moment. Letting them think they’re still talking to you until they realize that the loud, menacing sound of breathing on the other end of the phone isn’t you.

And when they let it show that they know it isn’t you, Bear hangs up the phone.

(For the longest time Bear didn’t speak back because he would get too angry to form words. And without noticing his breathing would get heavier and louder the longer your parents talked, also because he got angrier by the second. Now he just does it to mess with them.)

The first time this happened, your parents realized it very late. “Did you understand a thing I said?” They had huffed when you didn’t answer their rant with a timid, pliant reply. Heavy breathing was the only thing picked up by the phone. Lucky them or they had heard the grinding of Bear’s teeth as well. Your parents had called your name, unsure, and Bear only replied with his raging breaths. That’s when they knew they weren’t speaking to you anymore.

“You…You-Who are you?”

Your parents felt like they were in a horror movie, it was obvious by the hitch in their breath, by the slight quiver in their tone. It was the first time after leaving the underground and having gone through therapy that Bear felt so much satisfaction by their fear. He relished the feeling. He hung up afterwards.

Your parents have gotten quicker with realizing when it’s Bear who’s on the other end of the phone. And if you try to take back the phone, Bear won’t let you. For his slow, slurred speech and delayed ability to process things, Bear is surprisingly swift and has amazing reflexes. Whenever your parents have called, expect to be coddled and worshipped by Bear the entire day afterwards. Practically pressing you inside his ribcage if he could with his insistence on cuddles.

✨✨

Syrup: Syrup wants you to cut contact with your parents. Not that he says that out loud for you to hear of course. But he still thinks you should. He hasn’t even properly met your parents yet, yet he already doesn’t like them at all. Holds a grudge against them from the first moment Syrup overheard you talking to them on the phone.

Oh, how he just wanted to grab the device, check the number (to find blackmail on them for reasons, he wasn’t a tech person for nothing) and block it. But he didn’t. Yet.

What Syrup does do is side-eying the phone whenever they call you. Trying to listen along and interrupt them loudly when they’re about to say something mean about you. Or try to get you to hang up early by making up all kinds of excuses: Sky needs help with something, Syrup can’t find something, you have to see this, you were supposed to hang out with him today, etc.

There was one day where you were really in a bad headspace when they had called. Syrup had seen red that day. He snatched the phone out your hands and growled at the phone. “fuck off. if you can’t see what a wonderful person your child is, then-then maybe you shouldn't have become parents in the first place.” And hung up just like that, without waiting for a response. His face had been flushed orange from anger and his shoulders tense.

Expect lots of snuggles and sweet, funny memes from Syrup whenever you’re down in the dumps thanks to your parents.

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.

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thebearer · 7 months

Text

autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: target, halloween, carmen, and you. or a short, fluffy work about halloween shopping with target bc why not? 'tis the season.

contains: fluff. that's it lol. mentions to past family memories and some insecure carmen, but honestly just fluff!

“Oh, look at this one!” You coo, snatching the tiny ghost figurine off the shelf.

“Cute.” Carmen muttered, one hand on the obnoxiously red cart, the other on your lower back. “Put it in.” He nodded towards the cart that was slowly starting to fill up.

The speakers droned out some dull pop song, your coffee and his melting away in the drink carriers on the cart. Carmen didn’t usually prefer Starbucks, much more of a fan of the local coffee spot a block over from The Bear. They knew his regular, made it for him as soon as he walked in. No fuss, no forced conversation- just the way he liked it.

But you liked Starbucks, well, in the right circumstance. You liked going to Target, you liked having a coffee to sip on while you “browsed”. Browsed, Carmen had grinned when you told him that.

“You don’t just go out and browse sometimes? Look at things? Window shop to make yourself feel happier?” You’d asked him earlier in the car, head tilting to the side.

“No, baby. I, uh, I don’t.” Carmen looked over at you, his hand still holding yours in the center console. “But maybe you’re onto somethin’.”

Carmen’s lack of decorations was deemed a crime in your eyes, which inspired the trip. Halloween trinkets filling the cart, the sly smile you’d give him when you’d slip another one in, just like you were doing now.

“It’s my treat.” You’d remind him, with a little wink. Carmen let you think that. Like he’d ever let you pay. And miss out on a chance to spoil you? No way.

“Where’re you gonna put all this?” Carmen hummed, watching you situate the tiny ghost next to the plastic cauldron and iridescent ornaments- something you saw on TikTok that you were going to attempt to DIY. “My place isn’t that big.”

“I’ll find a place, don’t worry.” You hum, sliding back in beside him, swiping your cup out of the basket. “You’ve got a bathroom, and the kitchen, and the bedroom-”

“-Bedroom?” Carmen grinned lightly, his hand snaking to your waist while his free hand pushed the cart. “You gonna put this creepy shit in there?”

“It’s not creepy.” You huff at him. “It’s cute, festive. Makes the place feel more… homey.”

Carmen decided then, he’d let you put a full fucking skeleton in his room if it made you feel that way. He’d get rid of all his shit, didn’t need it anyways, so you’d have room for all your holiday stuff. Carmen’s heart fluttered at the thought of what Christmas would look like. Would you put up a tree? He hoped you would. He’d go and chop one down if he had to. Where in Chicago he��d find a tree? He wasn’t sure, but he’d find one for you. If it made you as happy as this did.

“Ok,” You pulled him out of his thoughts, stopping the cart lightly. You plucked the bright orange bag up. “Did you know these are my absolute weakness?” Pumpkin shaped Reese’s, in their bright orange and purple glory.

“Yeah?” Carmen grinned. “This is it, huh?”

“Yes, in any shape too. But I prefer the pumpkin.” You went to set it back, Carmen’s hand grabbing the bag lightly and putting it in the cart.

“‘M more of a Christmas Tree fan.” Carmen shrugged. “You know Cicero- uh, Jimmy-” You nodded, slipping back into his side. “He, uh, he used to bring a bag of these to Christmas every year when I was little. He’d always have to hide ‘em, ya know? My dad… My dad didn’t want us havin’ all that sugar before dinner. Jimmy would come in where all the kids were, toss ‘em to me or Mikey or Richie when he started hangin’ around. Tell us not to get caught, and Merry Christmas, and hide the evidence. We’d eat them before goin’ to Mass, and he did it every year until I got in high school.”

You smiled softly, hand sliding down his back. “That’s sweet.” You hum, squeezing his hip lovingly. “You should get him some for Christmas this year. Return the favor.”

“Yeah,” Carmen scoffed lightly. “Yeah, I think he’d like that.”

A silence fell between the two of you, chatter from the surrounding people, the scratchy-screech of the cart. Carmen’s heart hammered, mind racing. Why the fuck did you tell her that? Fuckin’ ruined the moment. Stupid, fuckin’ stupid.

“Hey, uh,” Carmen’s hands shook lightly, fingers drumming on the red plastic over the cart. “I-I didn’t mean to… ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that, ya know? Ruin the-the… I just, I dunno, you said that and-and I-”

“-What?” You asked softly, brows creasing lightly. “What are you talking about? Say what?”

“The, uh, the thing with Jimmy. I-I didn’t mean to make it awkward-”

“Why is it awkward?” You pressed, setting down the candle you were smelling. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Yeah? I-I just… I dunno why I said it, I’m sorry.” Carmen rambled, a hand falling over his face, hoping you couldn’t see the blush growing over his face.

“Don’t be sorry, Carm. There’s nothin’ to be sorry about.” You shook your head, waving him off. “It’s a sweet story. I like that you told me that.”

“Yeah?” Carmen asked softly.

You nodded, smiling at him. “You know I do, bear.” The nickname rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, calmly- Carmen’s sure he’s going to melt into the floor.

“Here,” You twist the lid off the next candle. “This one has caramel. You like that, right?”

Carmen wasn’t sure how you remembered that. He’d mentioned it once, in passing, that he liked whatever you were burning at your apartment when he was over. It was caramel and coffee, you’d remembered, because you showed up at his house with the same candle the next day. A love present, you’d called it, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t want anything in return, no strings, just buying him something because you wanted to; because he liked it. It was still a new concept to Carmen, how you could love him without wanting anything other than love in return.

Carmen ducked down, the brim of his hat bumping your wrist lightly. “Yeah, I like that one.” He nods. “Smells like that other one.”

“Yeah? Not too pumpkinny?” You tilt your head to the side.

“No.” Carmen laughs, breathy and light. “I don’t smell any pumpkin. Is there pumpkin?”

“Caramel Pumpkin Latte.” You tilt the label towards him. “They’re saying it’s in there.” Carmen hummed lightly. “You calling them a liar?” You giggle playfully.

“No, but I am sayin’ there’s not pumpkin in there.” Carmen snorted lightly, putting the candle in the cart anyways. “Not real pumpkin, anyways.”

“Maybe if this chef thing doesn’t work out, you could be a candle critic.” You tease, falling into slow steps beside him. “Be a candle blogger or something.”

“Candle blogger?” Carmen repeats with an amused smile. “That’s not real.”

You look at him, eyes wide in excitement. “Oh, Berzatto, am I about to blow your mind.”

“No? Really?” Carmen laughed. “You’re fuckin’ with me?”

“No! It’s a real thing, Carmen.” You laugh, pulling out your phone. “There was this woman that, like, went viral because she was going insane about Bath and Body Works not having her candle or something.” You giggle, typing slowly in the search bar.

“That’s fuckin’ insane.” Carmen rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smirk. “Think she might’ve started a trend.”

“Well, can’t do that then.” Carmen shrugged, loading the items on the small platform at the self checkout. “Don’t wanna go up against her, baby. She’s intense.”

“Yeah, good call.” You grin, pocketing your phone, opening the bags while he scanned the ghost. “Guess you’ll have to stick to cooking.”

“Guess so.” Carmen muttered, putting the plush pumpkins in the bag, reaching for his wallet.

“Eh! No!” You click your tongue, eyes flashing at him. “I told you I was buying it.” You put a hand over the card slot, glaring at Carmen with a frown.

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head lightly, pushing your hand away lightly. “You got a number you wanna put in?” He nodded towards the screen.

You pouted, pausing for a moment. “Yes.” You mutter, typing in your number quickly, pivoting your body in front of the card machine.

“You gonna move?” Carmen looked at you, already reaching around to put his card in.

“No, I told you it was my treat.” You mutter, twisting with your phone in your hand. One look at the screen, and you were tapping your phone against the screen. The ding chimed, your smug smile spreading across your lips when the receipt printed.

Carmen was stunned, card still in his hand. “What- How did you-”

“Gotta be quicker than that, Berzatto.” You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Carmen looked down at his card in his hand, shoving it back into his wallet. Maybe Sugar was right, maybe he did need to actually learn how to use his phone. He grabbed the bags from you, swatting your hand away while you pushed the basket back.

“Shoulda let me pay.” Carmen grumbled, walking beside you out the sliding doors. It had started to get chilly, leaves tinging with warm color and the temperature beginning to drop. “Stuff’s for me anyways.”

“Yeah, but I wanted you to get it.” You bump your hip playfully with his. “Besides, I told you it was my treat.”

Carmen didn’t respond, unlocking the trunk and putting the bags in carefully, but the frown didn’t fade. Brows still furrowed and lips still in a hard line.

“Hey,” You call, stopping him before he could close the trunk. “I told you I wanted to buy it for you.”

“Yeah,” Carmen’s brows furrowed. “But you shouldn’t’ve-”

“-Carm.” You groan lightly. “I wanted to pay, ok? You always get me stuff. Let me get this for you, ok?” You say lightly, arms snaking around his shoulders, looping behind his neck. “Let me spoil you, bear. Lemme be your sugar mama.”

Carmen snorts, lips curling in a grin lightly. “Shut up.” He mutters, your lips closing over his in a sweet kiss.

You pulled apart, blushed and swooned in a Target parking lot. “You gotta put the stuff up anyways.” You tease, hands sliding down his toned arms, over his color block jacket.

“Yeah?” Carmen snorts lightly, pulling the trunk shut. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“I’ll be directing.” You declare, pinching his butt lightly, grinning at how he jumped and flushed. Sliding into the passenger side, you lean across the console to Carmen. “I’ll make sure the ambiance is there.”

Carmen nodded, starting the car, eyes bright when they met yours. “Light the candle?”

“Yes.” You laugh. “And I’ll pick out a movie.”

Carmen snorted lightly, his free hand moving behind your head rest while he backed out. It made your tummy flip with excitement. “Yeah? Casper?”

You give him a feigned unimpressed look. “You know I’m more of a Hocus Pocus girl.”

“Right, my bad.” Carmen laughed, hand gripping your thigh lightly, thumb rubbing patterns over the material of your leggings. Your heart skipped. “Fine. As long as you open those Reese’s.”

“Deal.” You grin, kissing his forearm gently.

Hours later, wrappers piled on the coffee table, the candle burning in the kitchen, and the orange lights glowing from where Carmen string them over the TV stand in the living room. One Jack-O-Lantern fleece blanket thrown over both of your legs, your head on Carmen’s while the beginning credits of Beetlejuice played on the TV. Carmen decided right there that you were right. This was more homey. Felt… right and content. He wasn’t so sure it was the decorations, more likely it was the girl who picked them out.

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drabblesandimagines · 7 months

Text

Disinhibited

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Established relationship/married, mentions of sedation, blood, bit of spice, absolute nonsense

Leon looks through the porthole-style window of the metal door to the lab and what he sees makes his heart stop. You - his beloved wife - on the floor, propped up against a row of cages at the far back wall, each wrist zip-tied to the bars above you and your head hanging low, clearly unconscious.

You’d agreed on radio silence when you’d split up, the expectation being you’d break it when either of you had located your objective. It was meant to be an easy job – suspicions that the research being undertaken at this particular oil ring was questionable at best, conducted by a skeleton crew. A USB stick holding the files the two of you had been sent to retrieve is now securely zipped in a pouch on his vest, a handful of guards sacrificing their lives for the cause. Annoyingly, a speedboat had managed to get away with the scientists onboard, but a call to HQ had the coastguard swiftly on their tail.

Leon had started to worry when he didn’t get a reply from his call-outs and had circled back, his stomach in knots. There had been slight pushback from the DSO when you and Leon had started dating, and even more so after you’d tied the knot. The two of you remained professional to a fault, but it had been observed that you worked incredibly well together. It brings both of you a bit of comfort too, knowing you have each other’s back - not one left at home wondering if the other one is going to come home in one piece.

You can take care of yourself, he has no doubt about that… But, hell, neither you or he are invincible. He swipes the pilfered keycard through the automatic lock and it takes everything within him not to sprint on over to you as the door buzzes – he needs to remain cautious, scan the area for any remaining threats and then tend to you once he’s established it’s safe. He pushes the door open and checks each square foot, gun raised, finger ready to shoot on sight. The lab is small, just the one room – no outgoing doors – and once he confirms that it is clear, he quickly pulls across a medical cart to block the door as an extra precaution, then practically skids his way over to you across the linoleum.

He drops to his knees, placing his gun down by his side and grasping hold of your chin gently to tilt your head up.

“Sweetheart…?”

The first thing Leon takes in is that you’re breathing. He immediately releases the breath he’s been holding in relief. There’s some tacky blood on your temple from a wound that is already clotting, as well what will end up as a pretty nasty bruise developing under your eye. It doesn’t seem right though – you’re too skilled to take something like that…

He pulls out his knife and slices through the first zip tie, freeing your wrist when he spots a very unwelcome sight – there’s a syringe stuck in the crook of your elbow, obviously administered in quite the hurry.

“Fuck.” Leon pulls it out slowly and holds it aloft, squinting at a small serial code within. He presses his earpiece then, and there’s a couple of beeps before he’s patched through to Hunnigan.

“This is Roost.”

“Roost, Condor One. I’ve located Kestrel – unconscious, looks like she’s been injected with something. There’s a serial on the syringe, run it for me?”

“Ready.”

He recites the numbers, slowly, making sure he’s read them right – a slip might be the wrong diagnosis. There is a tense pause as he hears Hunnigan tap away on the keyboard.

“Got a match. It’s a barbiturate, type of sedative. Good news is Kestrel’s not allergic to any of the ingredients. Usually it’s administered via an IV to keep the patient under, but if it was a controlled dose via syringe she should come round soon.”

“Okay. Good.” He cradles your face with his palm, relieved that it wasn’t something unknown or particularly nasty.

“Did you obtain the info?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got the files. Can we get an extraction?”

“45 minutes ETA, Condor One. Meet it at the helipad – side of the rig - if you can make it there with Kestrel.” He looks down at the map and notes the point, as you let out a soft, sleepy mumble.

“We’re pretty close. Think she’s beginning to wake up. I’ll give her a little longer to come round.”

“Right. Just a warning – that drug is strong.”

“Noted. Condor One out.” He presses the button and the connection drops. He grabs hold of his knife again and slices the remaining zip-tie, pressing a kiss to the indent it’s left on your wrist – bastards - before he places it down gently in your lap, and waits.

Leon explores the lab a little further, digging in all the cabinets and drawers he can find. There’s a metal table with some dried blood on it and he reckons after they’d injected you you must’ve hit the deck, or, more literally, the table. He comes up empty-handed of items in search, besides finding your confiscated weapons in a medical tray – he adds them to his own supply, sticking your pistol in his front pocket. By the time he’s finished, you’ve begun to show a few more stirring signs so he makes his way back over, crouching down in front of you to caress your cheek once more.

“Hey, sweetpea,” Leon smiles as you blink repeatedly, trying to get your eyes to focus. “You’re all right, I’ve got you.”

“Huh?” You mumble as the blurs slowly transition into Leon’s face, his features in a mix of concern and relief at you finally regaining consciousness.

“Took quite the hit, huh?” He drops his hand to your waist and you flinch at the contact, causing him to withdraw. “Sorry, are you hurt there?”

“I’m okay.” You eye him warily as you reply, sitting yourself upright a little more.

“Good.” He lets out a sigh, before rubbing the back of his head. “Not gonna lie, you had me scared for a moment. Come here, sweetheart,” he slips his arm around your waist this time, pulling you forward in what he means to be a gentle kiss, but the second your lips meet he cannot resist taking it a bit further, tangling his hand in your hair to deepen it, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to gain access within. You relent and he grins into the kiss, darting his tongue against yours and…

A stinging pain on his right cheek from where your palm has collided. There wasn’t a lot of power behind it, but it still makes him pull back. He opens his eyes in alarm and you’re glaring at him, hot tears threatening to spill.

“You bastard.”

The slap, the name – he’s heard you use some pretty colourful language over the years but never directed at him at least – renders him speechless for a moment, his mind trying to catch up with what happened to sweet reunion.

“Baby, what…?“ He reaches a hand out for you again but you slap it away, or at least you try this time - your co-ordination is all off and all you do is bat the air.

“Don’t call me that.” There’s a slur to your words, almost as if you’re drunk. “Back off, buddy.”

“I…”

“I’m married, I’ve got a husband.” You make a point of looking him up and down. “A husband that could kick your sorry ass into next week if he saw you right now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Leon frowns, thoroughly confused now. “I am your husband.”

You laugh dryly at that. “You wish! He’s, like, ten times sexier than you without even trying.”

He looks down at himself then – he’s in his tactical vest, his usual mission get-up – maybe his hair does need a bit of a trim, but… what are you on about?

“I assure you that’s mathematically impossible.” Leon withdraws a flashlight from his belt and clicks it on, trying to direct it at your pupils. “Does your head hurt?”

“Stop that.” You wince into the light, ducking your head away. He only gets a quick glance but your pupils aren’t reacting as they should – a combination of the sedative and a concussion, maybe? You aren’t going to be a willing patient for him to get a longer look, that’s for sure. “Leave me alone.”

“Uh-uh, you need to listen.” He puts the flashlight back in his belt and cups your face with both of his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m Leon, I am your husband. You were sedated and I think you’re concussed - that’s why things seem a little confusing right now, but you’ve got to believe me, sweetpea.”

You blink again, tilting your head in a curious manner before squinting. A delighted smile crosses your face as you take in his face, as if he hadn't already been in front of you this whole time.

“Hi,” you say, breathily. “There you are!”

“Hey.” He smiles. It is weird to see you so ditzy, however he can’t help but admit it is utterly adorable. “I’m here, darlin'. You’ll feel better in a bit, okay?”

“Nah, I feel great, baby.” You place your hand over his and tug it slightly so you can lace your fingers inbetween. “Hey, have I told you how sexy it is when you wear these gloves? We should-"

Your earpieces beep simultaneously and cut off your train of thought, as you both answer out of instinct.

“Condor One, it's Roost. Helicopter’s 20 minutes out. Thought you’d like to know the coastguard has picked up our scientist friends. Any update on Kestrel?”

“Hunnigan, it’s me!” You chirp. “I’m fine. Great.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Please tell me this is an expected side effect.” Leon comments, dryly.

“Yeah, sounds like it. Kestrel’s going to be like that a little while – I’m sure you can handle her, though.”

“By the way, Condor One – excellent. Love it, love you.” You poke Leon in the chest to really emphasise your point. “Roost – makes sense. Kestrel, though? Kestrel’s such a dumb name. I want a cooler one.”

“We don’t pick them, you know that.” Hunnigan replies, tapping away at her keyboard – Leon assumes she’s sending intel to the helicopter medic about your apparent state of mind.

“Well, we should. I'm changing mine." You declare, boldly. "My new codename is gonna be… Mrs Kennedy.”

“You don’t mean that, sweetpea.” Leon shakes his head in disbelief. You’d kept your surname when the two of you had got married – antiquated tradition that didn’t mean anything to him or you – hadn’t ever been an issue. “You don’t like it when people even mistakenly call you that.”

“Mm, that’s not strictly true." You pause to bite your lip and look up at him. "See, I’d really like it if you’d call me that next time we do that thing where y-“ He covers your mouth then, pulling you into his side. He’s now painfully aware of where you’re going with that sentence and it’s not something you - or he - will want recorded on the comms transcript for this mission for all time.

“Okay, Roost, I think we’re gonna head off now to the extraction point.”

“Wise.” The connection cuts out and he lets go of you, about to apologise, but you’re already distracted, looking down at what your hip bumped against when he grabbed you.

“Hey, that’s my gun,” your hand ghosts across his crotch as you try to take it from his pocket. He’s quicker though, grabbing hold of both of your hands and twirling you into his embrace, pressing your back into his chest and crossing his arms in front of you.

“Yeah… Best if I keep hold of it for now, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“But it’s mine-" You protest. He steps you forward, leaning his chin on your crown as he directs you towards the door.

“You can have it back when you’re feeling a bit more yourself, I promise. Just let me look after you for now, okay?”

“Fine,” you huff out, allowing him to manhandle you forward with no resistance. “Where we going?”

“We’ve got a helicopter to catch.”

Satisfied that you’d forgotten about your gun, he settled for just holding your hand tightly as he tugged you up the stairs and to the helipad, keeping an eye on the horizon. It should be here soon – then maybe they could flush whatever it was in your system or you’d sleep it off in the helicopter. You’re not a big drinker – you get a little tipsy off a glass of wine – but this as if you’ve downed a whole bottle, your filter entirely wiped out.

“Leon…” You drawl, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Uh-huh?”

“I’ve been thinking about the debrief…”

“Don’t worry about that right now, darlin’. Let’s just get ourselves home first, huh?”

“No, not that one.” You bite your lip, before your hands slide round and down to his ass, giving it a squeeze and then tugging at his belt to slip below. “I have a different kind of de-brief in mind, if you get what I mean…”

The helicopter blades whir in the distance at last and he thanks his luck, pulling your hands back to around his waist and away from his boxers.

“Don’t you want me?” You pout, pathetically, pushing yourself into his chest. “I do,” he hums, “but not like this, sweetheart. When you’re more yourself we’ll talk, okay?” He presses a kiss to your crown and wraps his arms around you, keeping his eyes focused on the helicopter’s approach.

You feel as if you’re hungover – head throbbing and nauseous as you wake. You’d dozed off in the helicopter ride back, vaguely aware at some point of Leon carrying you out and a sharp sting in your arm before you’d fallen asleep again. You’re in the med bay back at HQ, an IV in your arm connected to a bag of fluids and Leon’s sat cross-legged in a chair by the bed, typing away on a laptop.

“Hi.” You mumble and his blue eyes meet yours, his smile creasing the corners of them.

“Hi there. How you feeling?” He closes the laptop and puts it to the side, shuffling closer to you.

“Like I drank way too much. What happened?”

“Those scientists injected you with a pretty strong sedative and you whacked your head. Mild concussion – headache might hang around a couple of days, I’m afraid.” He hesitates then, curious. “Do you remember the lead up to that at all?”

“No.” You shake your head and regret it when the room spins. “I remember us splitting up and then everything’s a little hazy…” Patchy recollections of conversations circle through your mind. “I think… I remember saying some… things. Weird things.”

“If you count telling me that your husband is ten times hotter than me, then yes.”

“What?” You have to laugh at that one.

“Oh, yeah. Then you tried to get them to change your codename, before finally trying to make debriefing have an entirely different context.” He smirks as your face loses colour in embarrassment. “Didn’t think you had it in you, sweetpea.”

“I… I didn’t.”

“Oh, you did." He licks his lips then, maintaining eye contact. "I've been looking up some of the side effects of the sedative – apparently it can disinhibit you something rotten. Got me wondering though - you keeping some secret desires from me?”

“N-no.” You’re a terrible liar - a poker face in front of enemies, but you always crumble within a second in front of Leon.

He gets to his feet then, circles the bed to clamber in the opposite side of the IV drip and pulls you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Cos, as I told you at the time, I’d be very happy to revisit some of your ideas when you’re feeling better…" He moves his lips down, whispering in your ear. "..Mrs Kennedy.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x 400 Followers Event.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you

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evilminji · 2 months

Note

We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.

Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra

Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.

Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.

Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.

Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.

Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .

I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.

Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.

Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.

Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.

Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.

Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master

Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.

(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)

Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp

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lucid-loves · 2 months

Text

First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 3

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.3k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, eventual smut, virgin reader

TW for this Chapter: roofies/drugging, attempted assault

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: It’s the night of the party and everything seems to be going well at first. However, after a close call, Ghost decides that he needs to keep you safe by any means necessary. You don’t oppose any of his ideas.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

The dress felt tight around your waist as the maids zipped you in. It flowed out in other places, but the cinched waist was so tight that it made it almost hard to breathe. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to this. Your mother always picked out party dresses that showed off your figure. Forced a figure sometimes. You did always look beautiful at the end of getting ready, though you were always eager to undress by the end of the night.

As the maids finished styling your hair, the door to your temporary bedroom opened up to reveal a man that you almost didn’t recognize. If it wasn’t for the skeleton-jaw face mask, you would’ve mistaken Ghost for a different man. A warm blush crept along your cheeks.

His dirty blonde hair was stylishly tousled in all the right places. His navy eyes seemed brighter without the black warpaint and full balaclava as well. There was a scar cutting through one of his bold brows, but it only made him oh so much more ruggedly handsome. All of that combined with a simple, black suit had your heart fluttering.

Ghost was feeling the same way as soon as he saw you in your formal dress. A rather modern, yet elegant dress perfect for a modern yet elegant princess such as yourself. He had to clear his throat before speaking lest his voice would crack due to light nerves. “Almost ready?”

“I believe so. We are just doing some finishing touches.” You explained, familiar with the maids’ routine when it came to pampering you. As the last tendrils of your hair were in place and jewelry was secured on your person, you graciously thanked the maid for all of their help. Many of them fawned over you, admiring both your beauty and their finished work. The compliments made you blush, but you remained humble. You wouldn’t have looked nearly as good without their efforts.

Ghost escorted you to the ballroom where the party was being held. Before you opened the doors though, you paused to take a deep breath. You were nervous to meet so many people, especially the man that your parents wanted to marry you off too. You didn’t even realize that your hands were trembling with anxiety.

Your bodyguard noticed, though. He began to notice almost everything about you since the night you played piano freely in the moonlight. “Everything is going to be okay, Princess Y/n. I’ll be watching over you the entire time. If we need to leave earlier, we can do that as well.”

You let out a shaky breath and gave him a light smile. Though, it was hard to look at him with how handsome he was. “Thank you, Lieutenant Ghost. Truly.”

As soon as the doors to the ballroom opened, all eyes were on you. Every man, woman, and child were watching your every move as you entered the party. Everyone was dressed formally. A small orchestra played live music for the party. Plenty of flowers, tables, and silver platters of champagne were available everywhere. Your parents eagerly waved you over to where they were, a decently handsome man in their little group. That must have been the bachelor.

“You look ravishing, dear! Very pretty in your dress. This gentleman here is Duke Theodore. He has been waiting to meet you.” Your mother played up, taking care to ensure that her loving, motherly facade was set firm. No one was the wiser except you. You could tell that she disapproved of something in regards to your appearance based on how her gaze on you became icy. Thankfully, your father was a little warmer with his honest approval, a proud grin on his face as he took in your formal wear.

The Duke held out an open hand, a gesture that you couldn’t refuse in front of your parents. Once your hand was in his, he raised it to his lips. The feeling of his chapped lips on the back of your hand made you tense up. Ghost, who diligently watched from a safe distance, felt tension too along with a steady fire that rose from the pits of his soul. While he promised that he wouldn’t let this guy touch you, he had to obey the etiquette here. You had told him that you approved of the common greetings already as well.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess Y/n. I’ve heard many good things about you.” Duke Theodore tried to converse. Every word out of his mouth was sickly sweet, disingenuity clear as day to your ears. You knew immediately from the way he looked and spoke to you that he saw you as a prize. Already, you knew that you hated him.

If only you could call him out. Instead, you kept up appearances and faked a smile like you have done for every party guest since the day you were forced to attend these vanity projects your parents loved. “It is lovely to meet you as well, Duke Theodore.”

“Princess Y/n has many talents. She is very diligent with her studies, is committed to learning the piano, and always does what she is told!” The queen chimed in, pitching you to him as if you were a product to sell. Duke Theodore’s cold eyes lit up a little at the reveal.

“Is that so? It seems like she is indeed a proper young lady then. I am excited to get to know her very well.” He replied, his subtly sinister smile making goosebumps run up your arms.

He attempted to reach for your hand, eager to pull you in to drag you to the dancefloor. However, a strong, firm hand stopped him. When he looked up, he was startled to see a pair of cold, angry eyes that stared daggers into him. Ghost had finally come to your rescue, finally keeping his word. His tone was equally spine-chillingly cold. “All party guests will refrain from touching the Princess unless it is for a simple, common greeting or if she permits it first.”

Your heart swelled as your bodyguard protected you directly. No verbal warning first with a lack of bite. Ghost’s grip was firmly on the Duke’s wrist, ready to break it if he really wanted to. And God, did he really, really want to. From the moment he dared to kiss your hand, make you have goosebumps, Ghost wanted to break every bone in his fucking hand.

The king and queen quickly tried to save face. Your father gestured for Ghost to let go, to which Ghost slowly did. “Pardon our daughter’s bodyguard! He takes his job of protecting her very seriously. Lieutenant Ghost, this man is trusted. There is no need for such aggressive protection.”

You fought the urge to defend Ghost. To pipe up and reveal that you requested his protection like this. However, one look from Ghost told you that it was fine. He was expecting this kind of push back from your parents. And he wasn’t going to back down. “This protection is absolutely necessary, your Majesty. Unless the princess herself approves, then no one will lay a finger on her more than what is just basic courtesy.”

Some eyes from party guests began to watch the scene unfold. Any amount of drama brought them in like buzzards to a corpse. Already, gossip began to erupt through little whispers.

Clicking her tongue, your mother saved the scene, not wanting this to turn into a real altercation. “Let’s all calm down now! You know, we just love our daughter so much that we decided to hire such a devoted bodyguard. He comes from a military background, so it isn’t his fault that he can’t let a little loose for the night.”

“I see. Well, thank you for your service, Mr. . ?” The Duke awkwardly laughed, also trying to salvage the situation that would make him seem like he was innocent in all of this.

“Lieutenant Ghost. You will address me by my title of Lieutenant.” Ghost subtly threatened.

While everything went down, you just stood complacent behind Ghost, unsure of what to do or say. Truthfully, you were loving the way Ghost was protecting you at the moment. How he was sticking it to both your parents and the man that you already didn’t trust. Saying so in front of everyone was sure to get you into serious trouble with your parents later, though.

While it wasn’t fair that Ghost had to fight your battles for you, you had no choice. Especially not during a party.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, for protecting me so diligently. I should be okay now.” You finally reassured, your response to the ordeal graceful as you praised Ghost for his work while also catering to the pressure on your shoulders.

Your parents seemed satisfied with your response. Duke Theodore especially seemed happy with how you handled your words. Before backing off though, Ghost looked at you, searching for any sign that you want him to just whisk you away right now. He would do it in a heartbeat if you so much as looked hesitant to continue the party. When you seemed sure of yourself, he finally backed off, retreating to his safe distance.

Party guests returned to their conversations, disappointed that drama didn’t unfold more to gossip about. However, they did spread compliments on how well the situation was handled. Of course, praise of your parents’ devotion to protect you didn’t fail to reach their ears, inflating their egos.

“Well then, shall we dance with your consent, Princess?” The Duke offered, his tone slightly bitter now that he had to ask first. Not even wanting to touch him again with a ten-foot pole, you instead made a graceful excuse that should take up most of the one hour you had to be here for.

“My apologies, Duke Theodore, but I must refuse your offer for now. I think it would be wise to partake in a few hors d'oeuvres to gain some energy for dancing. I would hate to only give you a single dance if you wish for more.” You cleverly excused, quite proud of yourself for such a simple plan.

Thankfully, the bachelor and your parents seemed to buy it. Duke Theodore grinned as if he won the lottery. “Of course! How considerate of you, Princess. We shall eat and enjoy some private conversation then.”

Your parents split off to socialize with the other guests while you and the Duke grabbed some plates and drinks to take to a private balcony. Normally, you would have refused to converse in private. However, Ghost presence, even from a little distance, made you feel secure. There was no doubt in your mind now that he would run to your rescue if you needed him. He would be listening to the entire conversation anyways without the bachelor knowing it too.

The night air was crisp and cool, providing a comfortable temperature for what was a late summer season. Stars painted the sky as far as the eye could see. Music from strings, winds, and brass traveled out to the balcony, setting a rather easy mood. While you nibbled on the small hors d'oeuvres on your porcelain plate paired with a golden flute of champagne, Duke Theodore tried his hand at conversation once more.

“So, Princess, how far along are you in learning the piano?” He started innocently enough.

“I know the basics along with some simple classical pieces. I hope to one day play more complex pieces such as Fantaisie by Chopin.” You lied as if it was second nature to you. Hidden behind a red curtain just near the balcony entrance was Ghost who listened to you lie with ease. A part of him was proud of you for keeping such a secret. A part of him also felt rather giddy at the realization that he was probably the only person in the world that knew your secret.

He wanted to keep it that way.

“Ah, a classic and known to be a difficult piece to learn. I’m sure that if you keep up with practice, you will learn it in no time. I myself am a fan of Nocturne in E flat Major. A very romantic piece. Do you appreciate romance, Princess Y/n?” He continued, his tone shifting from polite to mischievous subtly that you picked up on immediately.

Treading carefully, you answered. Though, you did avert your gaze to the stars as you felt uncomfortable looking him in the eyes. “I do enjoy romantic pieces greatly. Clair De Lune and Gymnopédie are a couple of my favorites. While they may not be overly complex pieces to learn compared to some, there is beauty in simplicity.”

“Right. Love does not need to be so complex. I am happy to hear that you can appreciate the simplicities in romance. I take it that you prefer it when people are straightforward then?” He pushed, his tone hinting at something you didn’t like.

“I do like it when people are straightforward, but there's also something to love about complexities. Noticing extra efforts to create beauty should be recognized as well. The melody must match the harmony, after all.” You elaborated, hoping that he would pick up the hint that you weren’t such a simple woman to win over. You expected him to put in a real, kind effort into earning your affections if he really wanted it.

He didn’t get the hint. “You are quite right. I will be upfront then. I am curious to know how far your romantic knowledge extends to.”

You nearly choked on your champagne. “Pardon me?”

Ghost was close to stepping in, not liking Duke Theordore’s insinuation whatsoever. In fact, he wanted to punch the guy right in the jaw. Before he could intervene, however, a server bumped into him. Champagne spilled all over his suit while crystal glass shattered on the marble floor. The server profusely apologized, pulling out a handkerchief for Ghost to use.

Distracted by the sudden mess, he missed some of the next pieces of conversation you were having with the inappropriate bachelor. “You don’t have to play coy with me, Princess. I bet you haven’t even had your first kiss yet, let alone more than that.”

Panic started to rise in you, your stomach tying itself into knots as your instincts screamed for you to get away from him. You were baffled at how nonchalantly talked about your romantic life. “This conversation is incredibly inappropriate, Duke Theodore! I-”

“You are to be my wife soon, so I don’t see how this conversation is inappropriate. Early? Sure. But I just want to make sure that my wife truly is a virgin. Don’t you think that is fair?” He justified, a malicious smirk on his lips.

Just as you began to protest some more, your head suddenly felt woozy. Your vision began to turn fuzzy and your strength dropped like heavy weights. It suddenly began to get hard to stand, your hands holding yourself up on the balcony rail. A pair of hands landed on your shoulders, making your blood run cold. “You know, if you won’t tell me outright, I don’t mind checking myself. I think I would like to finally have that dance you owe me now.”

Your brain blacked out for a moment, your body following along with the bachelor without you knowing. No one bat an eye, not even your parents, as he guided your body out of the party, figuring that the both of you were simply already madly in love with each other. Besides that, they did trust the Duke to remain gentlemanly. He was a Duke after all.

When Ghost finally managed to get the server to fuck off, his heart dropped when you were missing from the balcony along with the bachelor. Blood ran like ice through his veins. He ran to the balcony, calling out your name as if doing so would suddenly make you reappear. When he noticed your half drunken champagne glass still on the rail, he examined it carefully.

His eyes widened as he noticed tiny flecks of powder that haven’t completely dissolved yet float with the bubbles. An untrained eye wouldn’t have noticed the powder whatsoever. Especially not a princess that wasn’t exposed to the outside world. His mind raced to dangerous places as he scrambled to look for you.

Reentering the party, he tried to look through the crowd for you or that damned duke. After trying to see through the crowd, he grew frustrated. There were too many fucking people at this party! Your life was in danger and your parents invited so many people to their fucking palace!

Having enough of it, he pulled out his pistol that he kept hidden under his suit jacket. With a booming voice and gun aimed, he gave orders. He didn’t give a shit if he made a scene. “Everyone get down on the ground now! That’s an order!”

There were screams of panic as everyone dropped like flies, obeying the command as their lives depended on it. Now with better vision, Ghost was able to scan the crowd better for you. When he still didn’t see you, he nearly became weak in the knees from devastation. To no one in particular, he called for witnesses. “Where did the princess or the duke go?! Someone answer me now!”

“Please, Lieutenant! Let’s just calm down and-” The king tried to take back control only for Ghost to fire his gun into the air as a warning, the sound echoing throughout the ballroom. He didn’t care if he was terrifying everyone. Traumatizing them even. All he cared about was finding you before it was too late.

“WHERE?!” He demanded, this time louder and more aggressive.

“Th-They left! They went out those doors!” Someone finally spoke up, pointing to one of the exits that led to a long hallway.

Ghost wasted no time weaving through the crouched crowd to storm the hallways. As soon as he entered them, he heard nothing but silence. He called your name again, hoping to a god that you were conscious enough to hear him scream for you. There was no way you could have left the palace yet. With how huge this place was, there was still time before Ghost could figure that you were truly gone. His hands shook at the idea before he clenched his fists tight over his gun that he still carried. Leaning into his earpiece, he called for extra security to search for you. No one was to come in or out of the palace no matter what.

He didn’t think he would be this shaken up on the off chance that you were harmed. Now that it was happening though, it was like a living nightmare.

As your bodyguard continued his search for you, you drifted in and out of consciousness inside a private gallery room. Pieces of valuable art ranging from portraits to landscapes hung along the walls around you as you lay down on a classic chaise lounge. It felt like white noise was flooding your senses. Your limbs tingled like static electricity.

All you could think about in your moments of consciousness was how you wished Ghost was here.

A finger traced up your cheek, catching a tear you didn’t even know you shed. Out of the corner of your blurry eyes, you watched Duke Theodore lick the salty tear off his finger. “No need to cry, Princess. You should be happy. Not only do you get to lose your virginity to a man with a high pedigree, but you will experience life outside these walls right after. I know that you have been stuck here your whole life. You must be dying to leave, at least for a little while.”

“There are some people that are dying to meet you too, you know? People on the outside. They aren’t unreasonable people. They just have different views on how this country should be run. If they meet you and your parents give them the power they seek, then you and I will be free to do whatever we wish. Of course, as my promised wife, I will make sure you are taken care of. As long as you agree to my own needs.”

You felt fingers lightly trace the length of your neck to your collar. You felt disgusting as he treated you like not only a piece of meat to eat, but as a bargaining chip too.

From outside the hallway, you could hear the echoes of Ghost calling for you desperately. Duke Theodore must’ve heard him too by the way he sucked his teeth. “That bodyguard of yours is quite a thorn in my side. I suppose that’s what you get when you are up against someone from the military.”

As you heard the calls get louder and closer, you began to muster up your strength. You didn’t have much of it from whatever was in your champagne, but you were trying to save as much of it as you could nonetheless. With the right timing to use it, it could save you.

Right when it sounded like Ghost was shouting from right outside the door, you spent your energy on calling for him right back, hoping that he could hear you past the thick doors. “Ghost!”

Surprised by your sudden outburst, Duke Theodore clamped his hand over your mouth. “Damn it! Your mother told me that you always did as you’re told! Shut up!”

That one scream for him as all Ghost needed to pinpoint where you were. The doors to the gallery were kicked in hard, the doors swinging open as if they were loose on their hinges. Gun aimed at the duke’s head, Ghost suppressed the urge to just shoot him dead right then and there. “Get down now before I fucking kill you!”

Blood draining from his face, the duke slowly lowered himself to the floor. More security rushed in, guns and handcuffs ready. Once the duke was apprehended, Ghost immediately turned his attention towards you. You were barely hanging on, fighting another blackout as your bodyguard appeared in your vision. He sighed in relief as your dress was still in place on your body. Though, the stray tears on your cheeks told him that the duke did more than enough damage already.

“It’s okay, Princess. I’m here. You’re not leaving my sight again.” He soothed, that strong, Manchester-accented voice giving you more comfort than you ever imagined. He gingerly picked you up off the sofa in a princess carry, holding you close to his chest that hammered away for you.

You let your head lull against his shoulder, sleep overtaking you once more. As you drifted to sleep, Ghost gave the security detail some strict instructions. The duke was to be detained for interrogation along with that server who bumped into him as a distraction. All party guests were allowed to leave after leaving all of their contact information with the team for future interrogation. Captain Price was to be contacted immediately to be informed of what happened and to send backup.

In the meantime, the lieutenant was going to watch over the princess and make plans to leave for a safehouse.

With the security detail all set up with their orders, Ghost left them all to settle you into your bed. He didn’t mind that he had to carry you a bit of a way to get to your bedroom. He could carry you around the whole palace several times before getting tired. He was just relieved to have you in his arms, safe with him.

Finally, you were back in your bedroom, away from the chaos. Carefully, Ghost tucked you into bed, not bothering to call for a maid to help undress you or let your hair down. He didn’t want anyone but him near you right now. He didn’t trust just about anyone now. Not even your parents.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the feeling of his fingers grazing your cheek waking you up for a brief moment. Your voice came out as a whisper as light as a breeze. “Ghost?”

“Yes, Princess?” He immediately gave you his attention.

“Please, don’t leave the bedroom tonight. . .” You managed to request, your words slurring as the drugs still took their toll on your body.

Taking your hand in his and taking off his face mask with the other, he revealed his whole face to you. Your vision was still fuzzy, barely making out most things in the room, but you saw his face as clear as day. You knew it was a sign of trust. For the both of you. You nearly cried when you saw him like this. He gave your hand a squeeze. “Wouldn’t even think about it, Princess.”

The way he called you “Princess” was soft, loving, and determined. He said it like it wasn’t just your title. It was your name.

You drifted off to sleep once more, leaving Ghost to begin planning the move to a safehouse. All while holding your hand and sitting right by your side the entire night, he planned his next move.

You woke up with a migraine and a dry mouth. Your eyes were slow to adjust to seeing clearly, your first sight being your bodyguard sitting in a chair right near your bedside. His attention turned towards you as soon as he noticed you awake, skull balaclava back on. “Morning. How are you feeling?”

“I have a headache and I feel dehydrated.” You answered honestly which Ghost was grateful for. He liked how you were blunt about your physical ailments. It meant that you knew the severity of the situation.

“I’ll get you some water and some medicine. Some breakfast will do you some good too. You haven’t had anything since those appetizers from last night. Do you remember what happened?” He questioned, careful with how he asked for your memory.

You took some deep breaths, trying to remember what happened last night. All you could see when you closed your eyes were bits and pieces. Visions of Duke Theodore, drinking champagne on the balcony, and then nothing but darkness. Eventually, you shook your head. “I don’t think I do. I’m sorry.”

Ghost shook his head. “No need to apologize. Perhaps it’s better that you don’t really remember. The duke drugged you and took you away from the party. Before he could assault you or take you out of the palace, I managed to find you just in time.”

Your heart dropped as you heard what had happened. Now that he mentioned it, you did remember more of what happened, but it was still mostly a blur. “I see. . . Thank you for finding me in time.”

Again, Ghost shook his head. He couldn’t forgive himself for this. “No. I don’t deserve your thanks. I should’ve kept a better eye on you. I shouldn’t have gotten so distracted. Hell, I should’ve have even allowed your parents to throw a fucking party. I was supposed to protect you and I failed. I owe you an apology.”

It broke your heart how Ghost beat himself up over this. Yes, the situation was bad, but you could never hold this mistake against him. Neither of you knew that this was coming. The royal etiquette wasn’t meant to make protecting you easy either.

This time, it was you who took his hand in yours. “I don’t expect anything that I say will make you feel better, but I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened. I wouldn’t want anyone else to continue to protect me as much as you have. What needs to happen now?”

Ghost looked at you like you were an angel. While it would still take him a while to forgive himself for what happened under his watch, he was still grateful for your forgiveness. The fact that you still wanted him to remain your bodyguard meant the world to him too. You trusted him, even if things went wrong.

Now more than ever, he wanted to protect you. Not as a lieutenant doing his job, but as a man that has fallen for you.

“We are going to move to a safehouse. Captain Price has sent Sergeant Soap to come help file reports and take testimonies while me and you begin to pack what we need.” He determined, ready to whisk you far away from this marble hell.

“What about my parents?” You couldn’t help but ask. Surely, they wouldn’t approve of this.

“They won’t know where we’re going. I don’t care about their approval either. I tried doing things their way. Now, we do it my way. Do you have any issues with this?” He considerately asked, though his tone was rather jaded.

Your heart leapt within your chest, your stomach turning into a full butterfly house at the prospect of you finally leaving the palace walls. You tried to hold back your excitement as you shook your head. Ghost saw how bright your eyes got, though.

He lifted your hand to his mask, kissing the back of your hand through the mask. The gesture made you blush like mad, not expecting him to do something like that. The truth was that Ghost has been wanting to erase that duke’s kiss off your hand like this for a while now. “Good girl. I’ll have one of your maids start getting you all set then.”

Your heart nearly beat out of your chest as he praised you, the moment replaying in your head over and over. Even after he left the room to allow you some privacy, you couldn't stop thinking about it. It lit something up in you. A feeling that you only read about in banned books.

This seemed more like just infatuation or fascination at this point. Yes, you admired Ghost for his work ethic. His powerful build and handsome features were nothing to scoff at either. His tattoos that decorated his sleeve held your attention more than any piece of art in the palace too.

Now? Now it felt like more. Now it felt like your heart skipped a beat every time he called you “Princess.” Now your hand ached to keep holding his, craving the strong warmth that he gave you. Now you wished to play the piano for him every single night to capture his attention. Now it felt like you wanted him to call you a good girl through a husky whisper straight into your ear.

You buried your reddening face into your feather-filled pillow, feeling the heat radiating through your whole body. Perhaps you always had a little crush on Ghost since meeting him and understanding his true character. However, now it was definitely more than just a crush.

You have fallen in love with your bodyguard.

Taglist: @angel-anna @ghostlythots @maiyatheprettiestprincess @cum-tea-and-towels

Please comment that you would like to be added to the taglist for this story! You can just say "please add me to the taglist" and that would be enough :)

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mi-ni-me · 2 months

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Hooooooomygawd. This is exactly what I was ranting about in my last post! I should’ve been posted this, but of course everytime I try I get immediately distracted and start scrolling or completely forget and walk away doing something else 😅. BUT HEYYYYY IM HEREEEE, and I’ve decided this week’s spread is underfell based since that’s what most doodles I had were🌚. So let’s just jump right into it,,

1-4.)First off an Underfell! Papyrus spread cause I luv him and I wanted to have one to match his brother. I’ve been planning on doing spreads for each skeleton but obviously that’s going to take a little longer than planned lol! My underfell papyrus has no eye-lights, not because he’s blind but because I like it best aesthetically. I also hc he wakes up early to go to the store, but is still grumpy cause it’s 5 am…even though it’s his personal routine he did to himself🌚. Though! He wears sweats and that’s the ONLY time you’ll catch him in some sweats. His primary weapon is a sharp ended bone for easy access, he’s 6’6 with his heeled boots on, which are inspired by a certain someone. Finally, he has a stinky lazy cat named Doomfanger, I personally don’t like cats but I’d try for him,,

5,6,7.)HOO doggy I needs him😩 my uf!Gaster otherwise known as “Ego” n some background info for him and the boys when they were younger. He was the Royal Mad Scientist and very smart yet incredibly self centered, his experiments sons Sans and Papyrus stay home until he gets back after long hours and can be gone for days at a time. Though his oldest, Sans is very responsible they still wish he didn’t work his hours. Finally, before his disappearance into the core, his sons were both visiting before everything went down, Dr.Gaster, who after finally achieving SOMETHING within the core is faced with two incredibly difficult choices, he who is OBVIOUSLY MAD!!!!!??! Decides to instead leave his children in order to see the truth. This without a doubt is one of the first of many hardships young Sans and Payrus face.

8,9,10.)Last but not least a cat study page for Doomfanger since I found out I wanted to draw a cat without knowing how to draw a cat whatsoever, so I practiced!! Doomfanger is stinky cause he doesn’t like baths, lazy from lack of discipline (surprising but Edge can’t even yell at the poor thing.), and greedy from overeating, does this sound like someone we know?🌚 He has a scar across his left eye and half his fluffy tail is almost bare leaving only fluff at the end. Doomfanger doesn’t get along well with his uncle, which many find odd as they’re incredibly similar, too bad they don’t see it themselves. (Bonus Edge holding kitten Doomfanger, the beginning of a deadly friendship. And yes this one is noticeably newer than the others but it’s on the same page and fits the theme so let’s assume it was there from beginning 🌚😂)

#my art #undertale #sans #underfell gaster #underfell sans #underfell #underfell papyrus #paprus #self insert #doomfanger #uf!gaster #me w uf!papyrus #2023 #traditional art

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crusty-chronicles · 8 months

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Airheaded S/O Headcannons #11: Luffy (One Piece)

I feel like Luffy would thrive with an S/O who's just as, if not more, stupid than him.

And he genuinely cannot tell you're not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Combined, you and Luffy have one semi-functioning braincell

And 90 % of the time, Nami has it

"LUFFY FELL OVERBOARD AGAIN!!!"

And there you go jumping right in after him.

"I'M COMING CAPTAIN!!"

Ussop and Chopper are standing by the railing horrified and screaming with everything they've got because 'YOU CAN'T SWIM EITHER!!!'

"How did their bounty increase by 20 million!?!?" Nami exclaimed having seeing your newest wanted poster.

Luffy, who was walking by and heard, suddenly had stars in his eyes.

"Really!?!? They're so cool 🤩"

And Nami is smacking the back of his head as hard as she can

"DON'T ENCOURAGE THEM, MORON!!!"

This man loves you with his whole heart and has known you since you were both children

Ace had found you sneaking out Dadan's shack with a huge pile of food and captured you.

"What do we do with them?"

"We could kill them." Sabo suggested.

"Excuse me, I really need to use the bathroom." You wiggled against the rope binding you.

"Like that's gonna work on us!"

"No, excuse me for being rude and leaving. You guys are funny but I really need to pee."

And they hadn't realized you'd already torn through the ropes until you got up and walked away.

They are completely dumbfounded and a little impressed.

Well except for Luffy who had been watching because he wasn't allowed to talk to the 'captive' during 'interrogations'. Whatever that meant.

He's getting up and chasing after you with a huge grin.

"Hey! Come back! I wanna be friends with you!!!"

And Ace and Sabo are the running after him before he can catch up, lecturing him about leaving weirdo people like you alone.

"I mean what kind of person just tears through rope and walks away all unbothered????"

"Me! I do that!"

Cue the screams because how did you manage to climb the treehouse without the ladder???

You meet up again several years after you all had set sail.

Ussop spotted something floating in the water shortly after the crew already left from thriller bark.

A person to be exact.

A person on a wooden plank.

And before he could inform anyone about it, Luffy was already stretching himself over to the castaway.

His eyes bugging out when he saw who it was.

"Y/N????"

Your expression matching his.

"LUFFY???"

"Long time no see. How have you been?"

And the crew is peaking over the Sunny curiously. Because who the hell was this that their captain seemed to be very friendly with?

Friendly than usual considering he his arms were wrapped around you several times, picking you up and swaying you.

"The pirate life is hard. My ships keep sinking. Say, mind if I hop on yours for a while?" You asked hopefully.

There was something even more hopeful in Luffy's as he set you down.

"I've got a better idea. Join my crew!"

"I don't kno- IS THAT A FREAKING SKELETON?!?! HELL YEAH I'M IN!!"

The crew warms up to you almost instantly considering you have the same bright personality as their captain.

And the ones weary of you (Zoro, Nami, and Ussop) become convinced when they see you fight and pull your weight.

"Hey, Luffy! Can we try that one move we used to do when we were smaller??"

All you get is a nod in return before he slingshots you towards a Marine ship.

The result?

You basically cannonballing into the side, only to reappear on the deck as it sinks. Reaching back for Luffy's hand as he lifts you up and flings you towards another. Jumping on after you to join the fight.

Your teamwork is practically unbeatable.

And the fact that you can keep up with Luffy perfectly cements your place on the Sunny.

It's no secret Luffy loves you.

And it's no secret you love him back.

The Pirate Empress Boa Hancock?

She's cool, he guesses.

Shirihoshi the mermaid princess? The most beautiful woman in the world?

She's a huge crybaby.

You? An idiot who broke the aquarium after tapping too hard on the glass to get the 'pretty fishy' to notice you?

You're his.

He doesn't make a big deal out of the way he feels.

He doesn't get all blushy or nervous around you

Instead he feels pure happiness and the most at peace he's ever been

Luffy will not try to court you the way a certain cook might court the ladies on the Sunny.

No big or grand gestures

Also not shy showing you affection.

He's known you for so long that gestures like that come naturally.

Holding hands to explore a new island?

Check

Wrestling with you on the deck of the Sunny?

Check

Sharing and stealing food from each other's plate?

Check

Trading around Shanks' straw hat on the daily?

Double check

The closest he'll get to confessing is at a time where the two of you are alone in the crows nest together.

"After I became the king of the pirates, let's keep having adventures together." And he'll put his signature strawhat on your head.

"Who says I'm going anywhere? This is the ship of dreams right? Well my dream is for us to stay together forever. So make it come true, captain."

It's at that point he realizes he'd follow you anywhere you asked him to. The same way you were following him now.

Will Luffy baby you?

You're insane if you think he will.

Because it's just the two of you encouraging each other to do stupid shit.

Actively trying to outdo each other

Luffy catches a huge fish?

You're jumping in the water because you saw a shark.

You broke into the kitchen at night to steal from the fridge?

Luffy is lugging it out so you two can have a midnight snack in the middle of the deck.

Both of you are being chased by Pacifistas?

It's a game to see who can destroy more.

"Do you think if I start training after I eat I'll throw up?" You asked.

"Let's test it out!" Luffy encouraged.

Only to find out that yes, you will in fact throw up training after eating.

"Well now we know!"

Luffy will call you the most bizarre nicknames he can come up with.

Get used to: Meat stick, pork chop, swimmy (because you cannot swim for the life of you), cannonball, and some messed of version of your name. (Think of how he calls Law and Kidd, Traffy and Jaggy)

But occasionally, in the rarest moments known to man, he will call you his treasure.

Luffy will get incredibly jealous if someone outside of the crew talks to you.

With the Strawhats, he doesn't care. You all need to get along anyways.

Brook wants to play you a song to see if it's okay?

Fantastic because you two have the same taste in shanties.

Zoro wants to train with you and see if he can make his attacks any stronger?

Hell yeah! Kick his ass!

You're Sanji's taste tester?

Sneak him something out will ya?

Franky and Ussop want to test out a new invention on you?

So cool!!!!! Tell him what it does when you're finished!!!

He's over the moon with you spending time with them.

But if it's a marine, another pirate, or just a random citizen, he's fighting them.

He's incredibly immature and will not let anyone get too friendly with you.

Luffy will bite, and he will not let go until that person apologizes and leaves.

Man or woman, doesn't matter.

He's throwing hands, gum-gum gatling all the way.

Second gear if he's pissy enough.

All in all, you two don't need a brain to be able to tell you love each other.

Next Up: Uryu Ishida

An: I'm back baby. 🫶 (Also yes I watch one piece in dub pls don't bully me 👉👈)

MASTERLIST

#luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #monkey d. luffy #one piece #x reader #x y/n #airhead s/o #stronk s/o

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wintersera · 9 months

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rockstar!winter x f!reader

notes: completely self indulgent as you will be able to tell from all the screaming- i’m blaming that clip… drove me insane LIKE ACTUALLY INSANE

cw: dom winter, sub reader (OMG SURPRISE), daddy kink, is calling reader a ‘whore’ degredation? it’s also not proofread i just wrote this on autopilot-

word count: 0.8/0.9k i forgot….

showing up to your girlfriends performance for the first time ever was going to be the death of you.

the lights were dim, loudness of the bass shaking your skeleton? you didn’t even know that could happen. it was a bit overwhelming for you because honestly... you weren’t even into rock that much even though your girlfriend is a rock genius.

it was definitely worth your time. seeing the spotlight shine on her while she plays with her guitar. and in all seriousness you didn’t really give a shit about the music AT ALL. your focus was completely on her fingers, the way she was tapping and strumming the strings had you in a trance, and oh my! you’re panties are soaked through.

you didn’t even last one second into the song thag was playing, all that was in your mind was her fingers, oh my god her hands, her fingers should be in me right now, i want her fing- yeah…

“baby you did so good on stage” running to the back of the stage. you just couldn’t wait anymore

“of course, you were there. i had to put on the best show for my girl” standing there with sweat dripping down her face. “did you like my guitar solo? dont tell my fans, but i practiced it just for you”. your girlfriend, minjeong, was so sweet. the main guitarist of the band aespa and the hottest person to ever cross this universe. whatever you did in your past life must be crazy to bless you with such a fine ass girlfriend.

“no one is in this room right?”

“what are you implying y/n?”

“oh nothing, i just wanted to say that you looked so hot on stage daddy” seducing her by slipping the string of your top down your shoulders.

not expecting that, she dropped everything she was holding right at that moment and cornered you. locking the door just in case one of her bandmates decide to waltz in. “oh don’t you dare start this now. not with those skimpy ass clothes you're wearing” now you knew wearing a mini skirt and a tight top would do you justice even tho your ass was so cold waiting outside the venue 😭, and well today you couldn't help being turned on, seeing your girlfriend work her guitar with her skillful fingers on that electric guitar had your pussy throbbing.

“turning me on after my performance, oh my baby is such a whore for me” hiking up your skirt to reveal you pretty much soaked thong “and you’re wearing a thong? all dolled up for me? you’re so kind” tugging the thong that rubbed your clit all in the right ways.

“a-anything for you daddy” god you turned her on so much. she just wanted to fuck your pussy so hard rn, and thats what she’s doing 🤭 pumping not one but three fingers into your sopping wet hole while she messily makes out with you, her tongue dominating over yours with ease. the noises you were making were anything but holy, thanking the interior designers for the very good choice of making the room sound proof because god, you are literally screaming out her name, moaning, groaning, literally all the noises are coming out of your slutty mouth. and if the noises coming from your mouth weren’t enough to show that she had you wrapped around her fingers (PUN NOT INTENDED) your wet pussy definitely showed. sticky, wet sounds were definitely escaping out of you. oh my god she was making you so unbelievably wet, your juices literally spilling all over the floor coating her hands and dripping everywhere on your legs.

AND SHES NOT FINISHED WITH YOU, breaking your kiss to make you face the wall and bend over so she can see your pussy in full view!!! her licking your lips before she fully makes out with it. licking and sucking so violently on your clit it makes you squirm and buck your hips into her face, while also shoving her fingers back into your pussy, slamming them into you without any mercy. it doesn’t really take that long to make you cum, with the whole build up during the concert you were pretty much standing there in awe on the verge of cumming JUST BY SEEING HER PERFORM?? she’s so rough with you but that's how daddy minjeong likes it anyways, seeing you turn into her personal sex doll and treating you as such as well, slapping your ass as you're bent over like a whore, repeating to you that she’s “your daddy”. she would open the door to show the entire crowd her lovely baby being finger fucked with a stupid slutty fucked out face, but she’s overprotective like that you know.

when you finally, cum it’s so violent yet so so so good. legs shaking, BODY SHAKING, you’re on the verge of blacking out as you’re hitting the walls screaming “daddy- ah, daddy m-minjeong your fingers feel so good” biting down on your lip as you feel the ecstasy course through your entire body.

of course once you’ve had the most craziest orgasm of your life, you fall to your knees.

picking you up she just smiles at you, kissing you on the lips then whispering in your ear “let’s continue this at home”

#wintersera #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader #aespa x fem reader smut #aespa winter smut #kim minjeong #fem! reader #kpop smut #girl group smut #gg x reader #kpop girl group smut #girl group x reader

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fanfic-obsessed · 5 months

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Ten Years in Two months

While the meat and potatoes of this idea comes a bit later, it does require some finangleing beforehand. Some of the beginning does feel a bit contrived, because it is. In order for the dominoes of the plot to fall right later, we do have to force them into shape now in a series of improbable actions.

Bear with me for a bit, we’ll get there.

There is not really a particular point this starts, save that it is after Padme becomes pregnant (though well before she realizes she is) but before the Umbara arc (or ignoring the Umbara Arc), for no particular reason other than I want Waxer there. A mission is assigned to the 212th to escort Padme Amidala and her retinue to a neutral world for negotiations with the Separatists. They are taking with them commander Ahsoka Tano (the in-world explanation being that she was on Coruscant catching up with course work and they would rendezvous with the 501st, who were on a campaign in that region).

On the way to this neutral world, from the perspective of the rest of the galaxy, the 212th in its entirety vanishes for two months.

From the perspective of the 212th they become trapped on an uncharted planet for 10 years.

For the rest of the galaxy those two months are enlightening into Anakin Skywalker's particular brand of instability. Without the tempering influence of the bonds to his Master and Padawan, compounded by the fact that his secret wife disappeared as well, Well…his attempts to find them could, in the best of lights, be described as unhinged. He did not fall in at this time, for he was given no reason to make that choice (and falling to the dark, into evil is very much a choice. One does not fall by accident, after all), but he made it very clear that the war, protecting innocents, the Republic, or even the lives of his own men meant nothing compared to finding Padme (occasionally he would remember to make it seem as though he was focusing on finding Obi Wan or Ahsoka, though he never quite remembered to include the rest of the 212th). His obsession presented itself in such a way that even Palpatine was reconsidering some of his plans (he still intended to break Anakin into Vader, but he was now inclined to let Padme-and maybe even Ahsoka; Obi Wan was always going to die-live on as a stabilizing influence to his ultimate apprentice).

He was swiftly removed from command of the 501st and had to be kept partially sedated for at least 6 of those 8 weeks.

With the 212th for the first few months, from their perspective, they tried to contact the rest of the fleet. Tried to contact anyone. Tried to escape from their orbit around this one planet, thankfully habitable and with an abundance of edible food. However, though they did not know it, the planet was out of sync with the rest of the galaxy.

Over the period of about two years they shifted from living mostly on the ships with just enough people on the surface of the planet to keep everyone fed to a more permanent settlement on the planet with a rotating skeleton crew up on ships to keep everything running.

Padme found out about her pregnancy pretty early on, and with it came the knowledge that her relationship with Anakin was not the secret she thought it was. Nor was the relationship forbidden like Anakin told her. The marriage was forbidden, because of the Oaths Anakin swore as part of the Jedi Order and how they conflicted with the traditional Nabooian Wedding vows (though she also finds out that the Jedi Order would have helped revise both sets of vows so they did not conflict). Even beyond her own misunderstandings of the Jedi, she started to see the many places where Anakin either deliberately misunderstood his own culture, or deliberately misled her.

In fact it became obvious within the first six months that every culture represented in the ships (The variety of cultures from the natborn admiralty, the Nabooian Delegation, The clones, and the Jedi) all had some misconceptions about all of the other cultures ranging from the humorously minor to massive misunderstandings (One of the minor misunderstandings is between the Jedi and the Clones on names and numbers. The Jedi believe that they are making sure that they are calling the clones what the clones want to be called instead of their designation. The clones think that the Jedi as a whole are uncomfortable with their designation AS names-Which yes but also no-so even though most of the clones prefer a name to their designation, even the few that want to use their designation are told by the other clones that the must choose a name to use around the Jedi).

Obi Wan takes over Ahsoka’s training and the gaps that Anakin had left become very obvious; the place where he taught her something that was outright wrong even more so. About three months in, Ahsoka tells Obi Wan about Anakin’s ‘training’ of being surrounded and fired upon by the 501st. One of the few things that Anakin was right about was that he Jedi would not understand, nor condone, that training. Ahsoka had not realized how disconnected from her own culture she had become in her short time with Anakin. How isolated he had made her from her people. Though she and Obi Wan were the only Jedi, she felt closer than ever to everything she had grown up with as he took on her tuition.

In month 8 Obi Wan, who was looked to as the leader, arranged for a series of times to address the misconceptions held by an for each culture present. When it became clear that they were cut off for the long haul, he helped the variety of people to start to live instead of just surviving. And at the beginning there were a number of natborns among them that were anti clones, or anti Jedi, just as there were many clones that were anti nat born. But with only about 1500 people in total (1300 clones, about 50 natborn officers and support staff, about 150 senatorial support staff) there were simply not enough people to support those kinds of prejudices. It is hard to say that the clones were not human when you listen to the stories of decommissioned batchmates during one of the remembrance ceremonies. Or hate the natborn lieutenant that got drunk and cried all over you about the pregnant wife they left behind.

The twins were born with a village of aunts and uncles, and though they are the oldest, they were not the only ones. Sache, one of Padme’s former handmaidens and part of her senatorial retinue, entered into a relationship with Waxer and Boil, having a child with them that was a year younger than the twins. Many relationships formed and broke apart during those years.

Ahsoka and Padme ended up co parenting the twins, with Padme being called Mom and Ahsoka being called Mom Ah. It was the twins who insisted on their names from their earliest ability to speak.

In year four Cody and Obi Wan get married. Though theirs is not the only relationship that develops, nor the only one with healthy communication, their relationship does highlight to Padme how unhealthy her relationship with Anakin actually was. (It should be noted that, although Anakin’s instability and actions were flashier, this is not Anakin abusing/coercing the poor innocent Padme. In this they are toxic together, both acted in unhealthy ways that compromised their own morals). Padme was able to see how Cody and Obi Wan did not use their love for each other as a bandage for deeper wounds. That CodyWan did not become all consuming; each man had friendships and hobbies and duties separate from each other (even with the friends they shared, they did not act as a single unit, inseparable from each other). The other relationships she saw only drove this point home.

At some point in those ten years she tells Obi Wan of what happened on Tatooine, just before the start of the war. And Obi Wan, eyes betraying his grief and horror at the massacre of the Tuskens asked her why she absolved Anakin of his crimes (By technicality, as a senator Padme did have the authority to absolve Anakin-so even if Tatooine becomes part of the Republic, and the crime is reported, Padme’s actions mean that Anakin cannot be tried under Republic Law). Padme cannot answer him.

Though it does take time, Padem is eventually able to meet Obi Wan’s eyes again after the revelation.

6 years in, Ahsoka and Padme realize that they have fallen in love. Driven by the Jedi teachings for healthy and open communication (though many cultures value open and honest communication, few need it in the same way as the Jedi who are all some degree of Empath), they talk about what was happening. Neither is sexually attracted to the other, but they do want to date each other. But Padme is married to Anakin. And it might have been six years, so they do not know if Anakin even still lived, and if did, he had likely moved on (both of which are reasonable assumptions) but being together without first speaking to Anakin felt too much like giving up the idea that they would find a way home. So they agreed to wait until they were ready to give up that idea.

They had not given up by the time that the 10 year mark rolled around.

In year 7 the chips begin to deteriorate. The material they were made up of were not meant for the extra years of use, plus the method Helix used to stop the accelerated aging (discovered within 5 months of actually having time) created an enzyme as a byproduct that had no effect on the clones, but accelerated the deterioration of the chips. The first three chips were removed after the clones involved complained of migraines. All the documentation in the computer banks (the archive of what was readily available, instead of what was stored on the galaxy’s version of the cloud) of the ships said the chips were to inhibit excess aggression. No one had any reason to not believe the documentation, not even with the realization that the chips were not in the right place for what they were supposed to do (the assumption is that the Kaminoans, for all their genetic know how, just do not understand near human neurology enough to have put it in the right place). Obi Wan met with Helix, the head medic, with Cody after the removal of those first chips. Obi Wan assumed that he did not know about the chips because he had not been on the council when the order was put in. Helix is able to confirm that all of the clones have these chips and what they are supposed to do (according to the literature) and that some were beginning to deteriorate. After it becomes clear that the removal will not hurt the clone, they make the decision to remove all of them. However, believing them to be behavioral modifiers (if incorrectly placed), and as they did not have the optimal equipment to decode them, they all left it at that and put the Chips into storage and basically forgot about it.

Just 15 days shy of the 10th anniversary of their arrival to the uncharted planet, whatever grip that was holding the ships bound to orbit the planet vanished (The planet was in sync with the rest of the galaxy- it is a window of time that is six hours long in the larger galaxy, or 15 days long on the planet) Still not able to raise communications to anyone outside of the planet’s orbit, not knowing how long they would have before they were stuck again, and fearing that they would be cut off from anyone left behind (no one had forgotten that the planet had not registered as there until they were trapped), everyone was loaded onto the ships along with all of their food stores and the 212th left the uncharted planet.

As soon as they hit the galaxy at large again, alarms began to shriek. Every system that communicated with the central systems (basically everything outside of life support) experienced a fatal error upon reconnecting with the galaxy’s central system. It takes 4 days to fix. They have to reset all of the internal clocks/calendars in their computer systems to a date and time two months and 3.5 days after they became trapped (the last 24 hours of that time was spent inputting random dates into the system).

NOTE: There is a very important reason for this. Computers are very black and white about some things, and communicating between computers is often validated on specific information to make sure that both systems are dealing with the same information at the same thing. Current Date/Time had to be validated for the purpose of navigation. Galactic/Stellar drift is very real, and in the mapped regions of the galaxy that drift is precisely calculated. It is impossible to keep a real time map of every object in the galaxy, instead there is a systematic ping that goes out at specified times (Twice per Galactic Standard year) remapping every object in the known galaxy and correcting the location in the centralized system. Then Navigation computers calculate how long it has been since the last ping to figure out where everything is and a safe route. That only works if the current date time matches the current date time of the centralized system exactly (some of those object movements, even objects large enough to damage the largest of ships, can be measured in microseconds).

No one realizes why this is an issue. The entirety of the 212th believe that 10 years have passed (born out by their time keepers, which had ticked along for ten years) and yet to the larger galaxy only two months have. They absently notice that by the time anything is working again the planet they were on had vanished.

A message is sent to Coruscant, to the Jedi temple, but it is a hesitant thing. Deliberately vague in details. Obi Wan has no idea what 10 years has done for or to the war effort. The response is almost immediate, a call from the Jedi council. The very first question out of Mace Windu’s mouth is a cranky sounding ‘Where in the Force have you been for the last two months?’ (Look Master Windu is absolutely ecstatic that they are safe and not dead, but he has spent the four days helping to keep Anakin contained-the sedation began to wear off faster now that he could feel Ahoska and Obi Wan in the Force again-, the last two months realizing that Obi Wan ran about a third of their side of the war, and had been in the middle of sleeping for the first time in weeks).

There is quite a bit of confusion as both Obi Wan and Mace were absolutely sure the other had lost it over how long the 212th had been gone (Obi Wan: we were trapped for ten years; Mace: Bullshit! You’ve been gone for 2 months). It is Ahsoka’s appearance that convinces Mace that something more is going on (he would not know the children, and Ahsoka is the only other one for whom 10 years-or 10 years and 5 months for the clones- would make a huge visible difference). Mace is able to convince Obi Wan that they really have only been gone two months and the 212th makes its way back to Coruscant, reeling over the disconnect (The Lieutenant who spent the last 10 years mourning over the missed moments with their wife and unborn child…hasn’t even missed the birth).

The mind healers who have been dealing with Anakin nearly weep in relief at the news that Padme Amidala is with the 212th and safe. They know that Anakin needs many much therapy still but they have hope he will actually pay attention now that his wife is back.

The 212th, now a community in a way that they had not been, returned to Coruscant. They do not split in the ways that they would have before (before relationships and children) and peer at the lives they had left behind that they no longer quite fit the shape of.

The lieutenant brings home their best friend (a clone who had not picked their name before the mission, but decided to go with 29, which they picked to reference the number of a decommissioned batchmate) to meet their wife, only for some of the wife’s family make an awful comment about flesh droids and being a pet (thankfully their wife was equally embarrassed by her brother’s behavior).

Obi Wan, Cody, Padme, and Ahsoka go to the Jedi temple, to the Jedi Council (the twins, like the rest of the children, were left aboard the Negotiator in the care of their extended family). They speak of the planet where they had been trapped and the lives they grew there.

Padme took the time to apologize to the Council, formally, for the violation of their beliefs that she and Anakin had perpetrated by marrying as they had. She could admit that while Anakin had not told her of any Jedi traditions for marriage, or really any traditions they might be violating by marrying, she had made no effort to check either.

As an afterthought Obi Wan told the Jedi Council about the chips deteriorating, but that they did not appear to be doing anything anyway (To which every other member went: “What chips?”). Upon being asked Obi Wan calls for Helix to get a chip or two out of the storage closet they had been forgotten in. Which was then promptly handed to people with specialized equipment for decoding bio mechanical chips.

After the latest round of sedation has worn off Padme, Obi Wan, and Ahsoka go to see Anakin. They are told that before Anakin can be released he needs to be assessed by three different mind healers. They go intending to tell Anakin of the twins. Padme also goes with the intent to test the waters about the possibility of separating (She does not know that her and Ahsoka dating would go anywhere, nor are either of them even thinking of it right now, but even leaving that aside Padme has realized that her and Anakin are not healthy together). Things do not go quite as intended.

At first Anakin is so happy to see all three of them, he exclaims over Ahsoka being so grown up (she is now 24, now older than Anakin). It rapidly becomes clear that Anakin expected he would be released immediately, now that they were back. There was a small blip, a frown and a strange heaviness when he realized that all three of them were backing the healers that he needed to be assessed. Anakin also did not like how close Ahsoka and Obi Wan were, oh before they vanished he would joke about Ahsoka being their shared padawan, but he preferred it when Obi Wan’s lessons unintentionally reinforced the idea that Ahsoka was better off with Anakin than any other Jedi.

There were a few moments when he could speak to Padme alone, and the way he spoke left Padme feeling cold. There was nothing overt but it all reinforced a possessiveness that Padme realized she did not want in her or her children's lives. They leave without telling Anakin about the children.

Padme tries six more times to go and talk to Anakin about separating. At best he acts like he does not hear or understand her words. At worst he starts ranting about Obi Wan trying to steal his wife and needing to be sedated.

Regretfully, and with the backing of both the Jedi and the 212th community, Padme starts the process to get a divorce. Nabooian traditions insist that a couple that wants to divorce must meet with a Nabooian marriage counselor first, to see if reconciliation is possible. Setting this up takes several months as, upon being informed of proceedings Anakin had a second breakdown. His connection to the Force was such that the Jedi needed to block the connection lest he become very destructive. Only the Force Blockers left him not coherent enough to attend the session with Counselor. In the end the Jdi built a special room just to block Anakin’s specific connection to the force for them to meet in. Traditionally the divorcing couple meets at least 5 times before permission is given to divorce. It took one meeting for the Counselor to grant Padme her divorce.

The 501st had not been assigned a new general by the time the 212th returned, and Ahsoka was almost ready for knighthood. She took command of the 501st for a total of 4 months, it was too uncomfortable and too much like she was replacing Anakin (made weirder by the fact she still wanted to date his soon to be ex wife and was helping to raise his children). In the end Obi Wan ended up taking direct command of the legion, with Cody taking the lead of the 212th. This also made everyone uncomfortable, thankfully the war ended three months after that (the revelation of what the chips did had the council contemplating finding the planet that 212th had been stranded on).

Palpatine had been indiscrete around someone who he had assumed would back his power play for an Empire. To be fair, in another world that family would have been high ranking imperial with very human centric tendencies.

Palpatine had not expected a Lieutenant of the Galactic Navy, member of the 212h or not, to whip out a slug thrower and shoot at a party when Palpatine had admitted to knowing about the slave chip in the clones' heads.

To be fair, neither did the Lieutenant.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #fanfiction prompt #obi wan kenobi #star wars au #anakin skywalker #codywan #bamf obi wan #Anidala critical #sheev palpatine #Not for Anakin Fans #anakin critical #Order 66 did not happen #jedi order respected #jedi order

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