#might make a fanfic out of this i dunno | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loveindefinitely · 4 months

Text

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

03 — MY COMPASS, MY TRANSPORT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

“I have nothing else to live for.”

It’s a truth. A deep, earnest one – and it’s the only option you have.

Without Graves, without your Shadows, you have nothing. No income, no family, no support. You're left with the clothes on your body and the shoes in which you stand, with no hope of finding your footing.

In the darkness, the only light shines from the headlights of the truck, and the red of the radio. It’s silenced, of course, but it serves as a beacon of something between you all.

“I don’t – I have no other choice,” you say, voice trembling. You would not break in front of them, but you could feel yourself cracking; porcelain underneath a harsh grip. Turning yourself so you’re completely facing the two, your expression turns desperate. “I want to help you both, and I want to save Phi– Graves.”

You correct yourself at the final moment, wary of your slip up.

“Save ‘im? From what? Feckin’ charges for war crimes? Getting his ass handed to ‘im?” Soap chokes out, incredulous, eyes wide where they meet yours. He winces when he moves forward too quick, straining his arm.

“He’s…” You look down at your hands, merely watching for a moment as they close into a fist and open again. Blood crusts underneath your fingernails. “He’s all I have. I’m sure he just needs a wake up call, someone to snap him out of it.”

“He tried to kill us,” Ghost speaks up, matter-of-fact, but quiet. As if at any moment, his words will wake up the entire city. If there were any civilians left in it, you supposed. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“...And I had to kill some of my men.”

It’s a confession of sin. Like poison on your tongue, yet at the same time, an anecdote to an evil in your veins. You’d killed your men. You’d… done that.

You still haven’t quite allowed yourself to realise it, not yet.

But if it’s enough to keep you alive right now, so be it. You hadn’t gotten this far just to give up over something as inconsequential as pride.

“Ye will tell us everything you know about ‘im. And’ll help us until we figure out what to do. We’re our own bosses now, Sweetheart,” Soap commands, that fucking nickname of his seeming to stick. You don’t dispute it – not right now, not when this is quite literally life or death.

“I promise,” you say, resolute and stern. There was no time for self-pity or wallowing, only time for action and conviction – something you had in spades. “I’m yours for as long as you need me.”

You hadn’t known how true those words would be – not then, and not for a good while. But they were a prophecy, if such a thing could at all be possible for a woman like you.

Soap and Ghost share a look; a brief, yet important one, before Ghost gives the Scot a short nod. Soap turns once more to you, his face betraying the answer of their silent agreement.

“...So?” You suggest, impatient considering the consequences of the next few moments.

Bringing a hand up to stroke at his stubbled chin, Soap makes an act of pretending to ponder – and it succeeds in stoking the flames at your core, fury burning through you like a liquor-soaked rope.

“I dunno, lass,” he says on a sigh, his ocean eyes betraying a mischief in their depths. “Yer kinda mean to me.”

You might choke him.

Actually, check that, you will choke him. He’s impossible – an arsehole to the nth degree – somehow worse than Ghost in his… foolishness? Was that the right word? Or just straight frustrating-ness?

Seeming to sense your thinning patience, Soap’s hand falls from his jaw with a mirthful smirk, proud of himself.

“If ye say pretty please, ye can join our lil’ duo.” He finishes the statement off with a wink, and you don’t realise that your hands have curled into fists until the sharp pain of nails digging into your palms force you to resort back to your senses.

You let out a slow, loud breath.

Neither of them move a muscle, except for the twitch of Soap’s dimple. You hate that you recognise such a small movement, but you easily blame it on the fact that it’s a drilled-in mentality.

“...Please,” you acquiesce, however quiet.

Ghost’s eyebrow raises. How you’re aware of that, considering his mask, is a props to him.

“That’s not what he asked for.” His voice is a low, husky thing, and the title of guard dog suddenly doesn’t sound so incorrect.

With your teeth gritted and cheeks straining, you mutter out, “Pretty please.”

Soap’s responding smile is nothing short of beaming, and you almost immediately wish that you could take those words back. Was death really so bad? Would it even be a mercy, compared to deciding to share a threadbare camaraderie with these weirdos?

Too bad time control isn’t exactly a well-researched military weapon.

“Let’s go then,” Ghost slaps his gloved hand against the steering wheel, before looking one last time towards you with purpose, “Sweetheart.”

Soap laughs.

You get out and slam the door in his face.

“Och! You feckin’ bastard, lass,” you hear him screech, before the door opens once more and Soap hops out, fuming.

Turning away, you fall behind Ghost, and quickly take a look around at the vast, empty area that is barren suburbia. Not before responding, however.

“Next time you get shot, I’m not taking care of your ass,” you threaten. “And I’m giving the rest of my sweets to Mr. Melodramatic.”

Soap’s returning mock gasp is, in all fairness, pretty comedic. “You have more sweets? Gimme those and ye lovely bedside manners ‘nd I’ll get a cavity!”

Your returning glare could cut steel. “Keep that up, and you’ll end up with bigger issues than a cavity.”

“I think ye are already the bigger issue,” Soap snaps back, but it’s not inherently malicious. It’s… borderline playful, and that sudden thought has you internally slapping yourself.

“Both of ya – quiet,” Ghost warns.

You both shut up immediately.

With wary steps, the three of you go to step up towards the front door, when Ghost swings out a hand, stopping the lot of you in your tracks. The night doesn’t allow for any of you to see well, but he must’ve picked up something that you hadn’t.

The thought is an immediately terrifying one.

“Pressure plates,” Soap murmurs under his breath, eyeing the square linoleum tile. “Nice catch, Lt.”

Ghost doesn’t respond, instead motioning for you to follow him towards a glassless window. Gravel crunches underneath your light footfalls, easily heard in the deathly quiet, as you move to swing your leg over the access point and drop to the floor inside.

Landing with a soft thud, you go to unfurl from your crouching position, before a loud warning shout from Ghost has you freezing.

Flinching where you stand, your eyes dart to where Ghost has flung one of his daggers, the sharp metal splintering a wooden beam further into the dark room. Realising that Soap sits at your flank, you shift your gaze to spot a red light focused in on his forehead – between his eyes.

“¿Quien esta ahi?” An unfamiliar, accented voice calls out from behind the beam. You could slap yourself for being so careless, in not realising that someone else was in here before Ghost had saved your arses.

“Rodolfo!” Soap calls out, relief flooding his tone as he rights his position, shoulders back.

A man peeks out from behind the wood, eyes wide and slightly panicked, before they soften at the sight of the two men behind you. “Soap! Ghost! You’re alive!”

Stepping out from around the beam, he reaches for Ghost’s dagger, pulling it away from where it had dug into the oak with undeniable ease. His appearance is striking, with a set jaw and gentle features – he’s quite pretty, but not at all in a way that you find yourself attracted to the man.

“Affirmative,” Ghost responds, accepting the knife back when the man – Rodolfo – hands it to him hilt-first.

“Good to see you, amigos,” Rodolfo smiles, before his appraisal sets on you, confusion sparking in his deep brown eyes. He looks to the two men at your side for an explanation, hesitant in the way he does so.

“This is…” Soap trails off, before coming to a realisation. “Feckin’ hell. I never even asked for yer name, Sweetheart.”

Rodolfo blinks. Once, twice, before his eyebrows furrow and his mouth settles into an uncomfortable grimace.

You shoot a glare Soap’s way, before gifting Rodolfo a polite, yet stilted, smile. Extending your hand, you give him your name, and then your official title.

“Colonel? Graves’ colonel?” Rodolfo repeats back, utterly taken aback by such an introduction. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, quickly hissing to Soap in unamused Spanish, “¿Has perdido la cabeza?”

“I saved his life,” you interrupt, before any verbal sparring begins. “And I’m on your team. I don’t agree with what Graves is doing – and I’m sorry for what he’s already done. But I want to help you. I swear.”

Rodolfo regards you for a moment, his internal walls still heavily locked in place. But he seems… softer, now, in a way. More understanding, maybe, less hesitant as he slowly appraises you, inspecting you under his critical analysis.

The silence stretches, before the soldier raises his hands placatingly, the left side of his mouth twitching into a smooth smirk. “No accusations from me, Corazón,” he reassures, the pet name sliding from his full lips like butter over warm toast.

“Aye, none of tha’,” Soap warns, and Rodolfo’s amusement deepens. Whatever the Scot is about to say next is abruptly stopped by Ghost’s booming demand from behind you both.

“Anyone outside of these walls is now considered a hostile – we’re a team now. This happened under my watch, and I’d bloody well do good to fix it.” His posture is stiff, hand unconsciously flexing around the blade strapped to his belt as he delivers the order. It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one shot.

You figure he’s stopped speaking, when suddenly his heavy gaze is on you, any ounce of solidarity snuffed out like a match’s flame. “You fuck up once, Sweetheart, and I won’t hesitate when I shoot ya dead.”

It’s as good of a compromise as you’re going to get from the hulking Lieutenant, but you weren’t made Colonel for your talents in stepping down.

“You forget that I outrank you,” you challenge, chin raised and eyes flinty. “And that I saved your mutt.”

“We don’t have a feckin’ dog,” Soap starts, but when he sees the way Ghost side eyes him, and how you give him an unimpressed look, his jaw drops. “Ye bastard! Shoulda killed ya –”

Rodolfo’s hand wraps around Soap’s forearm, the grumbling man twisting in his hold, but not putting up anything close to a fight. “She’s just stirring you up, hermano,” Rodolfo placates, his large eyes meeting yours with a hint of respect in them. It has you straightening your spine, and your resolve.

“We sort this out as equals,” you state, folding your arms over your chest and bucking your hip. Ghost doesn’t, for a single second, shift your mutual eye contact. “And you will all tell me what the fuck’s going on – and what we’re doing.”

“Alejandro,” Ghost quips, sharp and to the point. Finally, you think, his near-black eyes drift to Rodolfo. “We need him back.”

“He’s the only other lad we can trust out there,” Soap adds, his pout easing slightly. Rodolfo finally drops his hand, clapping it hard against the petulant man’s shoulder with a firm nod.

“Already got a head start, hermanos,” he gestures for the three of you to follow him further into the room, before his calculating eyes glance back at you, “y hermana.”

It’s an unknown, entirely different feeling that erupts inside of your chest at the inclusion. Rodolfo was clearly the most soft spoken man of the three, but he had an intelligence to him that you couldn’t wait to unpack. And he trusted you. Or so you had gathered, anyway.

However.

First things first.

“...Where’s Alejandro? I thought he was Mexican Special Forces?” It was, admittedly, a unique kind of embarrassing – how out of the loop you felt, considering you were a colonel under Graves’ command. You’d heard the man’s name before, but it was usually just paired with barracks gossip and warnings to steer clear. Some joke about how the only one who could kill Alejandro, was the soldier himself.

Moving along with Rodolfo, you’re surprised when it’s Soap who supplies you the answer.

“Your fuckwit of a Commander’s got ‘im,” he curses, the words grating and harsh. Deserved, of course it was deserved, yet it was still odd hearing such disrespect for the man of whom you’d idolised for so long.

Of whom you’d given everything.

Switching a light on, Rodolfo stops in front of a large table, a map laid out across the top of it. Your eyes go wide at the intricacies – focusing as the man leans over and presses a finger towards a highlighted spot, watching the three of you where you stand on the other side. Dust floats near the source of the lamp, and the scent of grime hits you a moment later, a familiar thing.

“Graves is holding him here,” Rodolfo explains, his previously mischievous expression settling into a firm, military-grade frown.

“His own personal black site prison,” Soap scoffs, subconsciously flexing his fingers around the straps of his vest. His focus is utterly devoted to the map in front of him, but his anxiety shows itself through the tiniest of movements.

Rubbing his spare hand down his face, Rodolfo lets out a long, strewn-out sigh. “My men are locked in there, too.”

“Then let’s get them back,” you supply with a small shrug when all eyes shoot your direction.

“That’s obvious, lass,” Soap says, lacking any hint of his previous vitriol when he looks around the room. “How we get ‘em back is the question.”

“By breaking in,” Ghost answers, the retort as simple as breathing.

If you weren’t so receptive to body movements, to the smallest of expressions, you’d’ve missed it. Even then, you doubted that anyone could miss how Soap’s eyes soften when he looks to his Lieutenant, how his breath softly hitches in his throat.

You want to claw out your eyes with a rusty spoon.

By the look on Rodolfo’s face, he feels much the same – until he catches you staring, and then his face twists into something much more cryptic. Like a man trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces, being forced to jam spares into spots that just won’t fit.

“We need weapons,” you startle out, the words surprising even yourself. You don’t go back on them, don’t even think to. “If we want to stand a fighting chance – we need firepower.”

“Who said you’re with us?” Ghost questions snarkily, but when you go to reply, you find that Rodolfo’s moved to the corner of the room, switching on even more lights, displaying a wrought iron door.

Sliding it open, you feel like a kid on Christmas morning as you take note of the supplies within.

Rodolfo shrugs, but the small, smug grin on his face doesn’t dispel. “It’s well-stocked. This is Ale we’re talking about.”

The affectionate nickname is something you store away for later. ‘Well-stocked’ is certainly an understatement – guns of all types line the walls within the room, all types of bombs and grenades along with it.

“Alright,” Ghost huffs out, the closest to appreciative that a man like him can get.

Soap is much more upfront about his joy. “My man!” He laughs, his dimples etched into his features like the light spattering of freckles over his upper cheeks and nose bridge. “We’re gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armoured.”

Digging into his pocket, Rodolfo pulls out a set of keys, tossing them over to Ghost with relaxed shoulders. Turning, shock must be evident on all of you, because Rodolfo lets out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, hermanos y hermana.”

To the far end of the room, within the adjoined stables, is a fully-armoured forward drive of some sort – sleek and black and fucking perfect.

“Alejandro thought of everything,” Ghost admires, and when you look to him, you swear that you can see a hint of hope shining in his darkened eyes. Your heart skips a beat on its own accord, and you’re absorbed by the all-consuming want to pull it out of your chest with your bare hands, just so it never does such a thing again.

“Yeah, he did,” Soap whistles, before turning back around to face your small band of misfits. With a determined grin, he says as if it’s an afterthought, “Let’s go get ‘im.”

With a stern resolve and an even sterner disposition, you walk alongside your newfound teammates, and get ready for the most difficult mission of your military career.

When you’d, stupidly, recklessly, decided to play good guy and helps out the 141 and Los Vaqueros, you hadn’t taken into account how you’d be at the bottom of the totem pole.

While the three men you were working alongside were all considerably close, you were an outsider. At that, an outsider who had, only a few hours ago, decided to swap sides from enemy to ally.

Being paired with Ghost is, arguably, the most gut-wrenching job in your life. By the time that Rodolfo finds Alejandro through the CCTV system, you’re nearly entirely covered in dried blood, and your head thumps with a headache.

Not a headache from war – a headache from the fucking twat with a shitty DIY job for a military get-up.

“You’re seriously the worst,” you grit out, wiping off a bit of Shadow blood that’s been sprayed on your cheek. “I seriously can’t fucking believe that any one of your mates can tolerate you.”

“Who needs ‘mates’ when I have my boys?” Ghost quips back, wiping off his bloody dagger onto his vest, before slotting it back into its rightful position on his belt. His ability to blend into the night, even with the prison lights on, is uncanny – the only tell the white of his stitched-in skull.

You mock a disgusted sound, sticking out your tongue. “You sound like a fuckboy.”

“A what?” And, although it sounds nothing like a choke, you’re sure that it’s an instinctual question.

The sound of a helicopter up ahead has the two of you pausing in your tracks, feud coming to a quick halt. Looking up, you struggle to see the vehicle in the black of night, but you manage to spot the slowly circling heli above the prison.

“Ghost, Sweetheart, what’s yer status?” Soap’s voice trickles in through your comms. Ghost glances at you, before he answers on your behalf, ever the control-freak.

“Comin’ your way.”

Falling into step side-by-side, you focus on the wet gravel underneath your feet, avoiding making any communication with the man to your right.

“Copy. We’re on the move,” Soap replies, before Rodolfo cuts in.

“Heads up on the helo,” he warns. You find that you much prefer him over the other two – in fact, under any other circumstance, you could see the two of you becoming good friends. Maybe, if everything goes well, that could be a possibility – a positive in your world of negatives.

“Don’t think we’re in his line of sight,” you respond, double-checking your route and the helicopter's position in the sky. Rodolfo had warned you all, debriefing in the drive here, that helicopters would likely show up at some point.

Minutes pass, with small comms between the lot of you, when you finally spot the familiar figures belonging to the other half of your precarious team.

Soap and Rodolfo stand at the entrance, before the two turn at the sound of your and Ghost’s footsteps. They both seem to visibly loosen their stiff shoulders, seeing you both uninjured – and if you do the same, you pray that no one notices.

“The door’s locked,” Soap informs you all, gesturing to the steel entrance5.

With a small hum, Rodolfo reaches for the pack on his vest. “We’ll need to breach it,” he explains, but before he can grab a charger, Ghost raises a hand to stop him.

“No, Rudy –” And that is a nickname that you’ll be using later, “Knock.”

Rodolfo seems apprehensive, but he agrees anyway, giving all three of you separate glances. “On me…”

All of you getting into readying positions, Rodolfo knocks on the door, the sound echoing loud enough to have your blood pounding in your ears.

A moment later, a Shadow – one you don’t recall having met – pushes open the door and moves to step outside. However, Rodolfo and Ghost are quick to neutralise him, softly dropping his body to the floor.

Pushing through the entrance, everyone except for you shoot a Shadow dead – clearing the room in less than twenty seconds. It’s impressive, how smoothly run the operation is, considering the lack of proper authority or guidance.

You’re the first to spot some more Shadows moving your way, down the stairs – calling it out. “More Shadows from the second floor – watch out!”

This time, you find yourself the cause of two men falling to the ground, blood pooling underneath their lifeless bodies. Your team doesn't give you time to second guess, to mourn, before they’re encouraging you to follow them up the stairs.

“Ale’s up here, let’s go!” Rodolfo urges, his voice bordering on a kind of desperation reminiscent of a boy enlisting for the first time.

Like expected, Alejandro’s cell is down the hall, sat to the far right. Two Shadows guard the steel door, but Soap and Rodolfo are quick to light them up, successfully clearing the entire two floors. You’re ashamed of how relieved you feel, being gifted the small mercies of not having to kill your previous subordinates, unless necessary.

You feel, more than see, Ghost’s heavy gaze on you. When you look back up from the gun in your hands, however, he’s turned completely away – and if you were a less accurate person, you’d have thought you were imagining things.

“There’s Alejandro’s cell.” Stopping at the steel door, Rodolfo adjusts his grip on the gun, before giving you an encouraging jerk of his head. “Open it up, me and Soap will cover you.”

Another small mercy, you think, as Ghost reaches into his backpack and pulls out a set of bolt cutters, regarding you stiffly. “When I pop this lock, you push in,” he directs you curtly, and you bite back a retort. You knew the process like the back of your hand – you had no need for an explanation.

The ‘especially from him’ goes unsaid.

With precise, practised movements, Ghost positions the bolt cutters, and pushes open the door.

As soon as you take one step into the cell, a large hand wraps around the back of your neck, slamming your face into the concrete wall, a blinding pain shooting through your retinas. Letting out a small yelp, your chest rattles as your hands wildly raise in an imitation of surrender.

“Alejandro! Let go of ‘er! It’s us!” Soap calls out, and you swallow unhealthy amounts of air. That hit had taken more out of you than you’d expected – and your harsh breaths were making that incredibly apparent.

The grip on the scruff of your neck slackens when Rodolfo shoots off in quickfire Spanish, “Coronel, relájate, cabron, somos nosotros.”

Your cheek aches and your head pounds as the hand removes itself entirely, allowing for you to take in lungfuls of oxygen.

“Soap, Ghost!” Alejandro bursts out, and as you rise to your feet unsteadily, you watch as he thumps both of them on the back of their shoulders, before turning to Rodolfo with an expression that could only be described as longing. “...Rudy.”

“Didn’t think we’d leave ya, did ye?” Soap chuckles, oblivious to the thread of tension between the two men.

Whatever silent conversation had occured between the two enforcers is quickly cut as Alejandro accepts the shake of Soap’s hand, a feral grin wide on his features. “What took you so long, pendejos?”

“A traitor with an attitude is what,” Ghost inputs, and really, how much self control can a Lieutenant lack? Wiping at your cheek, you let your hand fall once more to your side as you meet Alejandro’s inquisitive gaze head-on.

“I’m Graves’ previous colonel,” you extend your hand, “And I’m your best bet at getting your base back.”

You expect suspicion, uproar, maybe – or at least questioning, similar to that of Rodolfo’s.

Instead, all you’re met with is Alejandro’s manic smile sharpening, and a slap on the back of your own. Ruffling your hair, he uses his free hand to accept the gun Rodolfo’s extending towards him, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Sounds good, hermana. Welcome to how real men fight.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re

708 notes · View notes

skyeslittlecorner · 2 months

Note

Okay, I know it's impossible, but can you do some headcanons about the kings are sick? (like maybe because of angels or sth I dunno :'>)

Then we gotta take care of them (hohoho I fine with fluff or a little bit of smoky situation (^///^))

P/s: Sorry for any grammar mistakes TvT Btw I really enjoy your works (love it :3), so have a great day and take your time (o゜▽゜)o❤️

Thanks dear anon, and hope you have a great day too! 🧡 Them being sick is not so impossible, they are definitely lovesick lmao

We can give them some common cold, why not! That's why we have fanfics. To experiment and have fun. Even so, there are plenty of options for when they might feel unwell. Angel blood, poison, war wounds. But we'll go on the lighter side of regular flu. Sick kings times one, let's do it~

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Satan will never acknowledge he's feeling bad. Do you want to put him to bed? Make him. Actually, making him won't be so hard because he staggers on his feet. Since you put him in bed, you are supposed to take care of him personally. His flu is a game of cat and mouse, he will feel a little better and he will come out of his room, and then he will feel bad again and you will drag him back into the bed. Preferably by the hair, and furious. He would have cooperated a little more if it weren't for the war. At this rate, you'll be curing his common cold for a month.

Mammon is team "spoil me or I will never get better". He even likes being sick, just cut out the 'feeling bad' part. He loves your concern, has all your attention, and you accumulate drugs so much that he hasn't seen such greed for a long time. It's good that you can't catch demon flu, you'll be like his mascot that he cuddles in bed all the time.

Beelzebub? Sick? Be ready for drama. He is NOT staying in bed. Don't even mention needles, he'll be gone before you finish your sentence. If you want him to stay and heal, you have to entertain him. This bastard isn't even afraid of death, what other can you expect? He's feverish, delusional and bored. It is advisable to buy toys. Looot of sex toys. And definitely try it with him.

Leviathan is impossible to decipher. When he feels worse, he will look even better. There is a joke in my university, "what you can't do, you make up for in looks", and he is embodiment of this. Once you understand that he is sick, don't tell his nobles. He's tired, all he wants is being surrounded with them buzzing like bees in a hive. Just lie down with him. Only with him. He certainly took some medicine on his own, so just be there to keep him company.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb beelzebub #whb leviathan #whb mammon #skye's little talk

166 notes · View notes

meowzfordayz · 11 months

Text

when you hop on their back — mitsuri, kyojuro, giyuu, tengen

Author’s Note: feeling silly today hehe. 🤪 Translation: played a lot of Terraria earlier, and should prob go touch grass ~soon. 🥴

when you hop on their back — mitsuri, kyojuro, giyuu, tengen

Kanroji Mitsuri x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader

Word Count: ~500

CW: none

Suggestion Fulfilled: can you write one like when u slap their ass but if you just hop on their back and do not let go for the life of you? (love u btw your fanfics are awesome)

~faqs~

Mitsuri’s absolutely delighted ☺️

Def gushes about how cute you are, clinging onto her back as she putters around the kitchen

“Honey, I’m hungry,” you declare, pouting into her neck

“Wanna get down and cook something?” she offers, fondly squeezing your thigh

“No.” 😇

“Okay!” 😁

And w/o further ado, she gets to work cooking you brunch

She’s got one arm locked firmly around your leg, the other doing its best to make eggs, readjusting you every so often to prevent you from slipping off completely 🥺🍳

Occasionally asks if you can grab something for her, leaning over to bring you closer to the spices, and the particular spatula she adores

Lowkey Mitsuri doesn’t even break a sweat (altho you might 😂)

Accepts his fate

Happily 🥰

“Where are we going?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear

“I dunno,” you giggle, hooking your chin over his shoulder, “To get a snack?”

“Any snack?”

“Sure…” 👀

And that’s how you end up being piggybacked all the way to the corner store, your feet nearly knocking things off the shelves as Kyojuro peruses the options

“Babe, maybe you should put me down?” you squeak as he deftly catches a bag of chips, breath pushed from your chest from his sudden movement

“No, no, no,” he chuckles, readjusting your position, “I will not let you, or the Doritos, fall!”

Thank gosh you visit the corner store ~regularly (snacks are a must w/ a Rengoku in the household) 😋

Otherwise you’d prob be kicked out by now 💀

Flustered, but not surprised

He 100% heard you coming from a mile away 😂

“My love, what if I drop you?”

“Shh, you would never!” you grin, kissing the side of his head, “You’re the best horsey!”

…

And now Giyuu’s conflicted

Should he focus on how warm and soft he feels knowing you trust him wholeheartedly? 🥺

Orrr should he be concerned that you just called him ~horsey? 😭

“Darling?” 💞

“Hm?” 💞

“Never call me horsey again.” 🤠

…

“Alrighty.”

He thinks that’s the end of that, until he feels you whisper against his nape, “Not just any horsey, the best horsey.”

You’re very fortunate that his love for you somehow outweighs his sudden and intense urge to buck you off his back

Jokes on you

Tengen mercilessly teases you, and refuses to let you down 🥴

“Awww, are you too tired to walk on your own?” 😃

“Can’t keep up with my strides?” 😎

“Y’know, this ride’s gonna cost you.” 🤑 // “But Tengen, I asked you to put me dow-” 😒 // “Tsk, tsk, you must wait until the ride comes to a complete stop before disembarking!” 🤗

“Keep your seat belt buckled!” 🤓 (seat beat = your arms hung loosely his neck)

“So what’s it like, watching the world go by in a blur?” 😌 // “Tengen, you’re literally strolling.” 😐 // “But I could start sprinting.”🤠 // … // “Please don’t.” 😭

#headcanons #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kanroji mitsuri #mitsuri x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x reader #uzui tengen #tengen x reader

636 notes · View notes

mondaymelon · 1 year

Note

Remember the one where the boys read your fanfics about them?? It was rlly good!! How abt if they read a fanfic about someone else?? Would they get jealous??

djlajflkdt thank you!! and ooh i can s e n s e the jealousy 👀👀

original fanfic here ✩ (does this count as a post? idk)

xiao: he'd probably act really cold to you for a while or so. he thought he was your favorite, and now here you go, using your scarce time to write fantasies about someone else? he's upset, to say the least, but doesn't even begin to confront you about it.

kazuha: probably the most understanding out of the four - but still not exactly okay with it. i mean, his favorite person in the entirety of the world is busying themselves writing strange fictions about someone other than him. even after he's written all of his poems for you, how could you betray him like this? still, he'll try to understand your point and will probably just act a little shunned.

heizou: goes into detective mode as soon as he finds out. what's the difference between that person and him? what makes them better? he's a renowned detective, both handsome and charming, so why was it that you had decided to write about them instead? he'll count this as his "official" work and probably spend most of his time researching the secrets of the person you dared write fanfiction for... so in a way, this might just be your fault.

scaramouche: pissed. so pissed. after all this talk about "not betraying him" and "always being by his side"... even after all those compliments you threw at him, wishing he'd come home... now you go ahead and shamelessly do... whatever that is? about them of all people? hm, that's strange, how come his ingame model isn't looking the screen in the eye... must be a bug. ah, but now he's angry, and he might just have a thirst for blood. if you don't hold him back, there might just be a character deleted from the game, for whatever reason...

(a/n) im just going to try and be responsible and do a couple reqs because prompt creativity is on an all time low

(dunno if this counts as a post so ima just ✨not✨ add this to the masterlists)

456 notes · View notes

vampbunnis · 1 day

Text

boothill x writer&reading enthusiast!reader!!

wc: 680

tags - fluff!!!!!, hurt/comfort without the hurt, so just comfort, this is my first fanfic EVER!?!?!?, lots of projection, probably inaccurate portrayal of boothill srrie, boothill calls u darlin'/sugar, this is really really messy oops

a/n - the story kinda diverges into them just reading a simple book written by someone else but the idea was that they'd slowly work into reading more n more complex stuffs-- which eventually include reader's works !! tbh i like to think even if boothill doesn't fully understand yet he'd still wanna know what reader is writing. i'll probably rewrite this sometime in the future with the same concept, diff execution b/c this lowkey didn't turn out how i wanted it to ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

he feels bad and a little insecure about his illiteracy!! because he bets you're so so talented in what you do but he literally cannot appreciate what you write :((

sometimes he wonders if you'd be happier if you were with someone who was able to fully understand all of you-- all of your cute rambles about the usage of different literary devices in the books you were reading, all of the times you cried over dystopian novels and heart-crushing personal narratives and profound, emotional sentences that he just didn't have the capacity to understand.

when he sits you down one night and confides in you about this, your first course of action is to comfort him (obviously!!).

"trust me, i don't love you any less just 'cause you dunno how to read," you coo, peppering his warm face with loving kisses. "if i had to be with anyone else, i'd be sad forever knowing you'd still be out there. i love you, don't forget that, 'kay?"

you can see his worry-addled face relax a bit as you remind him of just how much you love him-- but you can still notice the crestfallen look in his eyes. you realize he has been worrying about this for a while; possibly since the first time you told him you were a writer.

you come up with a plan.

he's a little confused the first time you lay in bed earlier than usual with a book in hand, gesturing excitedly for him to join you under the covers. you usually read books on your own, no?

it didn't take him long to notice a difference between the book you were holding and the books you usually read.

he saw a few of the books you'd read previously-- they were thick, way thicker than the book in front of him now, and definitely way smaller in size. the covers also had pretty big differences. the covers of your usual books were much more mature-looking-- like they were meant to be read by adults. this book, however... had a fat, crudely drawn green caterpillar on the cover.

his metallic body slips underneath the sheets, relaxing on the mattress. he protectively wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"what's this, darlin'?" he asks, pointing to the book with his free hand.

"the very hungry caterpillar," you reply, a bright smile on your face. you pause for a bit before speaking up again.

"i feel like i've been making you feel bad by leaving you out of my passion for literature-- i mean, reading, and writing and whatnot. i'm not the best teacher, but i still wanna share this part of me with you."

he has to try his hardest not to explode on the spot.

"'s alright, sugar, 's not your fault," he murmurs, gently caressing your side in an attempt to comfort you. "did 'ya get this book just f'me?"

you nodded, the solemn look on your face suddenly being replaced with one of excitement.

"this book is real simple, so i can read it to 'ya and hopefully you might learn a few things," you smile, giving him a peck on the cheek as you open the book.

since he barely knows how to read, you have to read the entire book out loud to him. that doesn't bother you, not in the slightest. in fact, you'd say it's even more fun that way.

he starts to snicker as the drawing of the caterpillar slowly gets bigger and bigger, eating food in larger quantities as the pages flip.

after you shut the book closed and put it on the nightstand, you turn to him. "how'd you like the book?"

"it was so stupid," he grins. "that [beautiful] caterpillar was still hungry after eatin' all that?"

you burst into giggles, hugging him tighter as you laugh. "mhm, i guess so. it's like me whenever you take me out to get fast food."

"oh, don't compare your pretty self to that thing," he smirks, tucking the both of you under the covers.

#⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 별빛이의 글쓰기 #⊹.(⸝⸝ ˆ ³(⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)˚. byeolhill #boothill x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader

102 notes · View notes

diabolocracy · 1 year

Text

"Problematique media bad because it harms people because mentally ill people or children might read it and try to do it :("

Let's ban Superman, then, since there are many kids who have leapt from high heights trying to fly because they saw him do it in comics or on the teevee. (Fun fact, dunno if it's national, but at least one Canadian province already technically has a ban on all comics/stories of that nature for the reasoning of "someone blamed these stories for their own chosen actions". Not that anyone enforces it, buuuut...)

Let's also ban anime. Remember that (unsupervised, might I say) kid that buried his head in the sand and died because he wanted to be like Gaara from the Narutos? No? Well now you know about it.

Oh, what's that? You like Superman? You like anime...? You don't want these things banned because some people are stupid and failed to give their children the "don't try to replicate what you see/read in fiction" talk? Too bad! Blanket ban!! For the good of the people who clearly cannot be trusted to teach their kids or take care of their mentally ill family!!!

While I'm on this rant,

"Problematique media bad because people can use it to groom others :("

As many people have pointed out time and time again, people who groom kiddies IRL use candy, cute animals, and other small gifts (if they don't just grab Little Timmy and pull him into their car in a drive-by abduction).

Let's ban candy! Let's ban cute animals! Let's ban plush toys, comic books, and all other little nick-knacks because again, people cannot be trusted to supervise or otherwise look after their own children or even provide their brats the most basic safety talks!

"But when I was a kid I thought [thing] was okay because I read about it in a fanfic :("

Well, buttercup, sorry to tell you this, but your parents and teachers all failed you! :) Perhaps this blame can even extend to the government, because when I was growing up there were PSAs on the television about NOT REPLICATING THINGS YOU SEE ON TV OR READ ABOUT IN FICTIONAL STORIES.

EDUCATION IS SUPERIOR TO BANNING.

EDUCATION IS SUPERIOR TO MAKING STRANGERS OR THE GOVERNMENT BABYSIT YOU OVER MOTHERFUCKIN' STORIES.

And that doesn't even stop at all this bullshit about problematique fiction! Unfortunately, rational human beings with a brain have to co-exist with idiots too uncurious and too stupid to learn about anything that makes them personally uncomfortable (like republicans and conservatives and TERFs and neo-nazis and, yes, fanpol, you too--I'd go so far as to call you guys "useful idiots" like fellow queers who fell for the "LGB drop the T" attempt to divide and conquer the queer community bullshit perpetrated by the Christian right and no that is not a bullshit conspiracy theory)!

🙂Anyway, back to making cookies run. Bye

#proship #screaming

527 notes · View notes

theferrarieffect · 2 months

Text

jealousy, jealousy - chapter 3: the boys are back

f1 fanfic: lestappen (max x charles)

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: the twitch quartet decides to hit the games, for old time's sake. and charles finds out that there is a lot more to the guys than they let on...

chapter 3: the boys are back

“Oh my god,” Charles groaned as he ran over yet another virtual patch of dirt. “This is frustrating me so much.”

“If Alex didn’t have his problems in the straight—” Lando’s pixelated face complained from the corner of Charles’ monitor.

George snickered evilly as he clipped Alex’s rear right, even as his own lawnmower spun out.

“GEOOOOOOORGE!!! PLEASE!!! What the fuck, honestly, this guy—”

Charles navigated a turn to the left.

Then someone moaned, except the word moan did not do whatever that sound was justice. Mooed, maybe, like a fucking cow.

“What the—” he heard George say.

“WHAT WAS THAT???” Lando howled.

Charles couldn’t stop gasping. “DID YOU SHIT ON YOURSELF, ALEX?” he barely made out, before emitting an involuntary high-pitched shriek of laughter.

“Whaaaat?” Alex cried helplessly among the din.

“What was this NOISE, Alex?” Charles demanded. A tear snaked its way down each cheek. And then another. And then he realized he was crying, really crying, and he threw down his headset and ran to the bathroom.

“Alex,” Lando growled, “we lost Charles cause of you!"

Charles shuddered over the sink, splashed some water on his face, and ran back to his rig. “Sorry lads.”

“Whatever, Alex ruined any chance we had to keep playing,” Lando sneered. Alex rolled his eyes and flipped the lid off the top of a beer.

“Guys,” George said. “Not gonna lie, this has me kind of emo for the pandemic days.”

Charles felt a wave of relief wash over him. He wasn’t the only one who’d felt so…mushy. The crying might have been instigated by Alex being a complete degenerate, but he was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that he and these three other guys, whose literal job it was to overtake each other on the track, had survived some of the worst days by just…existing together. Playing their games. Laughing when there wasn’t much else to laugh about.

“Aw, quit it George,” Lando said, “you’re gonna make Charles cry again.” George laughed amicably, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. And as the guys said their goodbyes and signed off, Charles’ DM lit up.

GR63 You okay? charlesleclerc haha yeah sry for game again GR63 Lmfao Alex is an idiot not your fault stay on call

“What’s up?” Charles asked, when he and George were alone on the Discord.

George raised an eyebrow. “Just seemed like you were going through it for a second there, that’s all,” he said, in his smooth George way.

Charles was taken aback. George, although arguably a notch above Lando and Alex on the emotional intelligence scale, never was all that close with Charles. He suddenly remembered George being interviewed for his first points in 2021, his normally photogenic face crumpling as he cried. Actually, who was he kidding, the bastard was beautiful even when he did cry. Some people were just immune to blotchy faces and snotty noses, and the Brit’s worst was everyone else’s most fabulous. But perhaps it was that memory that inspired Charles to say, probably against his better judgment, “Maybe I am.”

“What’s going on?”

“Hmm, well…I dunno, do you ever feel like you don’t know what the other guys on the grid think of you?”

George looked thoughtful. “Yeah, definitely I do.”

“Well? Doesn't that stress you out at all?”

“I mean, sure it does. I guess that’s why the whole communication, team bonding thing is important. I just try to be honest with Lewis, we’re obviously not always on the same page all the time, but I’ve never regretted just telling him what I think. Or just asking him what he honestly thinks about—”

Charles realized that George thought he was hinting at drama between him and Carlos. Or scared about the prospect of having Hamilton as his teammate next year. “Wait,” he said hastily. “Just so you know, things are chill with Carlos. In fact, they’ve been pretty great. I’m gonna be sad when he leaves. But I’m not worried about Lewis, either.”

“Oh,” George said, now looking confused. “Then what exactly are you talking about?”

Charles panicked. He couldn’t just tell George Russell, Max, yeah, that Max, has hated me since we were literally children, and for a long time I hated him too. Then we tried to not hate each other, but now we’ve had these just—weird, that’s really the only way to describe it, moments that I keep replaying in my head, and it’s just driving me insane at this point. It’s the rival thing, right? Please tell me I’m actually just obsessed with winning, not obsessed with—

“Earth to Charles,” George said pointedly.

Charles felt his ears go violently red. “Sorry,” he squeaked.

“Jesus,” George said, his face softening. “Are you sure it’s a grid problem, as opposed to, I don’t know, a girl problem?”

“Ah, yeah. I mean, no. I mean, yeah, it’s like a girl problem. But it’s really a grid problem.” What? Charles was pretty sure he wasn’t capable of forming complete sentences at this point.

George folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to ask you a very, very personal question, and you don’t need to answer it if you don’t want to.”

Charles stared at him blankly.

“Do you like guys?”

Charles burst out laughing. George looked annoyed.

“No! I mean, of course I do as mates, just, you know, not like that. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” George said, although his lips were tight at the corners. “Although I wouldn’t say that in front of Lando.”

Charles was dumbstruck. “Lando’s gay?”

“Bi. Didn’t you know? He had a thing for you at one point even. Max shut that shit down pretty quick though.”

Charles didn’t know what was more shocking, the revelation that Lando actually liked men, or that Max had, for some unknown reason, tried to prevent Lando from making a move on Charles. “Max?” he asked weakly.

“I mean, nothing against Lando,” George said. “He was convinced you weren’t straight. Max said a bunch of shit about how long he’s known you and that you were definitely not into guys. And then all the guys kind of realized at that point that you’d never really said anything one way or the other.”

He supposed this made sense. Sure, Charles had dated a few girls in the past, but before he became really famous, and none very seriously at all. And as for boys…never had he even considered the fact that he could be with one. But why was Max so convinced he was straight?

“Uh, hey, George,” Charles said. “Are you?”

George smirked cryptically. “I’m only going to say this because you seem to be going through a bit of a crisis, and I will personally put an end to your rear wing if this gets out, but I did kiss Alex once, a long time ago.”

Charles gaped.

“For absolutely no reason,” George continued. “We were alone at a party winding down, and he was giving me these eyes, and I suddenly felt like I…had to. Like if I didn’t, everything would just be wrong.”

“And how did that go?” Charles tried to keep his voice steady.

“I think it helped that we were a little drunk,” George chuckled. “We just carried on like it never happened for a while, then Alex got together with Lily. Actually, I talked to Lily and she told me that she knew about it. It was casual for him, I guess. All in good fun, just two stupid blokes. So then I knew I could joke about it with him.”

Charles relaxed. So George had just given it a go, and it was all fine. Probably a good experience, if anything, for them. Having a mate you could be that comfortable with…it must have been nice.

Then he thought of something.

“But it was casual for you too, yeah?”

George’s smile faded.

“I don’t know.”

notes: OKAY so i know i said there would not be more ~main~ content till next gp but i made the mistake of watching the twitch quartet stream which inspired this chapter HAHA i have fully given up on following the season and am now taking inspo from past gps

creative liberties were taken portraying the twitch quartet video and when it was made - irl, it was streamed 2020 during pandemic but obviously this takes place in the 2024 season ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also....spicy spicy georgeeee ;) ngl, not sure if we're going to dig into george's emotional turmoil...i love him so much, i might just have to write him his own fanfic.

bonus george advice if you too happen to be going thru some shit <3

71 notes · View notes

winterlogysblog · 2 months

Text

4KOTA FANFIC

Note: I wrote this on a whim so it may not be good, but please enjoy

"Sin, what's wrong?" Nasiens asked, wondering why the small pink fox stopped walking.

Lancelot shook his head and started walking again. "It's nothing, I just remembered something, it's not anything you have to worry about."

He looks like them, the similarities are uncanny. He didn't think of too much in the looks department at first, it's just a coincidence he argued to himself but as days passed by he's sure of it... Nasiens... Nasiens is his cousin. He's the child his Uncle lost a long time ago, an event that tormented his heart and soul to this very day. Sometimes, he considers his heart reading to be a curse simply because he can hear everything, he can hear all the things that he shouldn't hear.

"Anne should calm down now." He changed the subject as quickly as he could.

"Yes, your method might be questionable but it certainly made her let out all of those feelings." Nasiens nodded. "Besides, what happened is quite unfortunate, losing his daughter like that."

Lancelot stayed silent for a while before hopping into the topic that would hopefully lead to his desired conversation.

"What about you? We're told that your grandfather found you in the Gorge, ever wonder about your real parents."

"I don't think my parents care about me anyway, they wouldn't abandon me like that if they did," Nasiens answered, glancing at Sin and wondering to himself what made the fox so chatty today.

"You're so sure about it, why is that?" Nasiens picked up a sudden shift in Sin's tone, it's like he's hurt.

"It's just... I can't help but think that they don't want anything to do with me. I mean, they left me in a forest, they probably think I'm already dead."

"Nasiens... Ever heard of a changeling."

"A changeling???"

"It's a ridiculous 'prank' that some fairies like to play where they would switch a fairy baby to a human baby, the Fairy King banned this practice, however, there are always some thick-headed miscreants who are too stupid to listen."

Nasiens gasped. "That's horrible!!"

"I know." Lancelot nodded.

"But, what does that have to do with... Do you mean to tell me that..."

"Don't jump to conclusions yet. I'm not certain, but it's a possibility."

"But, the others didn't tell me anything about this."

"They most likely didn't think of it that way," Sin answered.

"Then, why did you?"

Sin deeply sighed. "It's your magic... Mix Venom, it makes you completely immune to poisons right?" Nasiens nodded in response

"Immunity to poisons is rare in humans, it's commonly found in fairies though, and also one more thing... your scent."

"What about it?" Nasiens fiddled with his fingers, his curiosity about what Sin had been talking about turned to nervousness.

"A faint natural smell of Jasmine, quite interesting for a human."

"It's just a hunch, but you may just be a fairy, my friend." Sin chuckled. "But, what do I know!! It's your choice if you trust me or not."

Nasiens lowered his head. "The fairies in the forest also pointed that out when I was young but... I can't be a fairy!! I can't even fly or have wings!"

"Flightless fairies are surprisingly quite common, and as for the wings... I've been told that the Fairy King was once wingless."

"Sin... what exactly are you trying to say to me?"

"I dunno, like I said it's a hunch, you're found in a forest filled with fairies after all. It could be that your parents just lost you because of this stupid prank, fairy or not."

Nasiens smiled a bit, he didn't understand where it came from but he couldn't help but be glad at the idea of it. But a small thought did cross his mind.

"How do you know all this?" Nasiens asked.

"I'm acquainted with the Fairy King, he's quite knowledgeable about a lot of things."

"Really?! That's amazing!!"

While they're in the conversation of Fairies, Nasiens asks Sin a few things.

"What is he like?"

"Who?" Sin turned to Nasiens.

"The Fairy King, what is he like?" Nasiens asked.

Sin smiled warmly which Nasiens never thought was possible. The fox hopped up and rested on Nasiens' shoulder. "He's the kindest King I know." Sin started talking.

Nasiens smiles as Sin talks, seeing him like this makes Nasiens look at the creature from a different angle, Sin seems happy and cheery, Nasiens doesn't expect the ever-so-serious fox to laugh and giggle as he tells these stories.

"You seem to be more than acquainted with him you two seem to be rather close, for you to act as you do."

Sin chuckles. "I'll probably introduce you guys to him someday."

"Okay, you don't have to go that far." Nasiens sweated nervously.

#Nasiens and Cousin Lancelot #nnt fanfic #4kota fanfic #nanatsu no taizai #four knights of the apocalypse #mokushiroku no yonkishi #seven deadly sins sequel #seven deadly sins #4kota #nnt #nanatsu no taizai mokushiroku no yonkishi #lancelot #nasiens

54 notes · View notes

magnolix · 1 year

Text

twentieth floor | kny fanfic . fem!yn

+ pairings: CEO!tengen x secretary!reader

+ tw: fem!reader, fem!yn, aphrodisiac use, against the window, on desk, oral, fingering, toys, size difference, cursing, spanking, orgasm denial, photography

+ word count: 2k

+ author's note: I started writing this at midnight so sorry if it goes on for too long T^T, might make a pt2

"Take a seat," His voice was stern as he gestured to the seat across from his desk. You nodded, walked over, and sat down, taking a deep breath as you did. He sat down in his chair and crossed his legs, looking down at you with an icy cold glare. "shall we begin?"

About a day ago, you had received word from a friend that there was a nearby job opening that only had three requirements to try for the position: show up early, and dress nice. This alone wasn't a problem, the building for the tryouts was nearby and you had plenty of nice clothes from clubbing with your friends. The problem you were dealing with was the third requirement.

You hung up the phone and headed to your closet. The ad was asking for, what you assumed, to be inexperienced with a secretary experience which is exactly what you were. The interview was in forty-five minutes and you needed twenty minutes to get there. You put on a nice, black, long respectable skirt, a pretty, white button-up, and some nice high heels, and grabbed a bag before heading out to the bus.

"What kind of workplace asks for you to be "virginal"? The hell does that even mean?"

"I dunno, but it pays really well."

"How well?"

"125k a year I think."

"Say no more."

It was obvious to say you were excited, you had been wanting to get a new job since your last one so this would be a nice change of pace.

You got off the bus and walked into the building. It was tall and had a large vinyl record symbol on the side of the building. You made your way into the main lobby, a beautiful entrance filled with elegant seating, tall pieces of artwork, posters of albums the company had produced, and near the front desk, a tall painting of the owner of the establishment. Tengen Uzui.

You checked your phone and walked up to the front desk, showing them a picture of the ad your friend had sent you. The lady at the desk, a pretty young woman with deep black hair and violet eyes. She looked up at you with a smile and pointed at the stairs.

"Top floor, walk all the way down the hall. Once you see the others get in line and wait your turn." She handed over a small bag and a small cup of water. "Before you go in, take this."

You nodded slowly, a little confused but not concerned. You walked to the stairs and sighed seeing how high up it was. No way were you going to go up 20 floors walking. You pressed the elevator button only to be met with silence as the doors didn't open. You silently cursed the gods above before you started to begrudgingly climb up the stairs to the twentieth floor.

"What is it?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

By the time you made it up, your legs are trembling. You were tired, sore, and debating whether or not you should call it off. But with the pay being so good you forced yourself to go on.

You walked down the hall and turned the corner to see about ten other girls waiting in line. Almost all of which were dressed as if they were going to go clubbing. Three whole hours went by as girls went in and came out either tired, crying or with looks of disgust. But finally, once the last girl came out, it was your turn. You had a sip of water and opened the bag to find a small white pill inside. You shrugged, took it, and walked inside.

The office was gorgeous, just as you'd expect. A massive glass window looked out across the entire city with tinted panes that kept the outside unable to see it. The floor was a white and gold marble tile that made the room cold. In all the corners of the room were tall, exotic botanical plants with deep green fronds and leaves. On the walls were shelves holding up books, trophies, awards, picture frames, and other little souvenirs. And there, in the middle of the room, leaning on the window behind a large, dark wood desk, was the CEO of the company. Tengen Uzui.

You bowed for a moment before walking up and waiting patiently for him to speak. He was massive, 6"6 and ripped. He had red makeup on his left eye that looked like a flower or the rising sun of japan. His pants were black and tight, showing off his thighs and leaving just enough room for him to be comfortable. He had a thin, white, long-sleeved button-up and perfectly showed off enough of his figure to anybody close enough. His fuchsia eyes seemed to notice you making glances at him.

You squirmed a little in your chair, your skirt felt damp. Maybe it was just sweat? You ignored it and smiled. "Thank you for putting time into your schedule to see me." You smiled. Uzui seemed taken aback by your kindness before offering a genuine smile as well.

"Please, don't mention it. I should be thanking you for reading the paper. I'm happy such a beautiful young woman like yourself saw the advertisement." You looked away shyly, blushing like a madman. He chortled and leaned back in his chair.

You paused and squirmed a bit more in your chair, something was definitely wet. Oh god, did you start your period? You weren't supposed to start for another week. You chuckled nervously.

"Now then, tell me about yourself. What working experience do you have?"

"I worked with the labor union for a while and then the little coffee place down the street for a month. After that, I worked as a secretary for the Shinazugawa Company for a while before I got laid off."

"Why were you laid off?"

"They didn't tell me-"

You crossed your legs and sat on the side of the chair, trying to keep your dress from getting damper as you spoke. "I know how to use a printer, a cash register, and a fax machine--" "A fax machine? It's not the 1800s anymore, why would you be using a fax machine." "My manager was a little old-fashioned." "I see..."

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I-uh, I'm fine."

"Wonderful," Uzui smiled. "Now then, what are some good skills you have?"

As the interview continued, Uzui asked you questions about your skills, how you worked in teams, how you solved problems, etc. But it wasn't until the last question you really had to think.

Uzui grinned and stood up, towering over your tiny body, his figure casting a shadow over you completely. "The next question I'm going to ask you may be personal, and once I ask it you have two choices. You either keep up with me and manage to get the position, or..." He slowly walked around to your side of the desk, leaning down and whispering into your ear. "You leave and never come back here ever again.." His hot breath sent a shiver down your side.

"Any partners?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you have any partners? Boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, fiance?"

"I- I've never-"

"Have you ever had sex before?"

You were confused, what was he asking of you. His hand was just behind you and the back of your chair and you couldn't stop squirming. Was this because of that pill you had taken earlier or was it just your nerves? You didn't know what to do.

You are away from him, exposing your neck and hiding your blushing face. You knew you couldn't let down the chance of a big paycheck like this, you'd never hear the end of it from your friend. But at the same time, he was asking something so personal, could it be a health thing? No, those girls who had come out earlier looked exhausted. You knew what you had to do. Slowly, you turned your head to face him before speaking.

"Well?"

"I...I..."

"Yes or no, baby, you can be honest."

His lips met yours, they were soft and easily opened your mouth letting his tongue enter. Your surprise was muffled as he dominated your face, gently bringing up one of his hands to hold the back of your head while the other placed itself right on the edge of your inner thigh. You could feel his thumb exploring your body as you gave in to his touch.

"N-no."

"Good girl."

Suddenly, your thighs twitched open after his thumb found a special spot near your folds. You moaned into him as he rubbed your clit in tiny circles. His hands felt so warm and the fabric made you sensitive as you were touched.

Uzui pulled away as you gasped for air, feeling cold as he took away his hand from your thighs. You held onto the table trying to control yourself before you saw him starting to take off his shirt.

"Mmm~"

"You alright?"

"Don't worry, the glass is tinted, they can't see inside." He unbuttoned his shirt all the way until there was one more button left, he then walked over, picked you up, and sat you on the desk. There was a fire in his eyes, a type of flamboyant passion you'd never seen in a man before. He grinned and used his hands to fully spread your legs.

"Strip."

You did as he says, undoing your shirt and rubbing your thighs together. Uzui quickly stopped you, placing his massive hands on your thighs and keeping them apart. As you finished with your shirt and took it off you paused when it came to your skirt.

You tried to stand up but he wouldn't let you. You looked at him nervously as he cocked his head ever so slightly before pushing you onto your back and pushing your skirt up. You tried to close your thighs but it was to no avail. Uzui seemed to purr as he hooked a finger around your panties and slowly pulled them to the side. Your pussy twitched at the sudden cold they were exposed to.

"Should I take off my-"

"If I say strip them you fucking strip."

"Beautiful... absolutely beautiful." He traced his thumb across the slick of your folds. The man licked his pointer and index before slowly inserting them into your pussy getting a nice squelch from your folds. You moaned and attempted yet again to close your legs only to receive a hard spank on your ass.

"The next time you close your legs you get punished, is that understood?" You nodded as he began to push and pull at you, making sure that you heard each and every lewd sound your body made. You tried to fight it by looking away but he always called you to look back at him like a master to his pet.

This went on for what felt like ever as your body learned the way his fingers felt inside of you. You would feel your insides tighten every now and then making him stop and wait until you had calmed down. Sometimes he would ram his fingers into you causing one or two of his knuckles to slip inside and make you moan.

After a while, he pulled away and fully undid his shirt, casting it to the side and finally unzipping his pants. He locked eyes with you as he did making you feel even smaller as you lay breathless and exhausted on the desk.

He walked over to you and leaned down, looming over you as his bulge pressed against your wet cunt. With one hand, he held onto your chin, kissing you and grinding against your sensitive lower half. With the other hand, he held onto your hip and kept you in place. You could feel his torso move against your as he whispered into your ear.

"Brace yourself~"

363 notes · View notes

tqxky · 9 months

Text

Rosita Espinosa dating headcanons!! :P (fem!reader)

~slight NSFW!!! Minors DNI~

Okay i don't even know where to start

She's the jealous type girlfriend for real. She'd get so upset seeing other people touch/flirt with you and will definitely remind them that you're hers. (Inspired by a rosita fanfic i read a while ago🌚)

She'd act really tough in public, but as soon as the 2 of you are alone together, she couldn't keep her hands of you. LOL

Very overprotective, whoever hurts you gets a piece of her mind, she's gotten in trouble many times for doing things to defend you

Can be very submissive, would beg you to have fun with her and other stuff

But she can be very dominant too. It really depends on her mood, LMAO (i seriously don't know whether she'd be submissive or dominant, but in my eyes, she's a bit of both)

Will sit with you for hours listening to you talk about the most random stuff, purely just to listen to your voice

I dont know why, but Rosita really seems like the type of girlfriend to walk around the house wearing barely anything

Will sneak up behind you just to hug you from behind, covering your neck with hickeys

Enjoys placing hickeys in places that are visible, just so people know you're not available

Like i said, she's very overprotective. You guys are pretty much an unstoppable duo. If someone messed with one of you, the other will definitely do something messed up😝

Once again, very hard to decide, but i feel like the majority of the intimate things really depend on her mood. One moment, she is the most romantic, sweet, passionate person ever. The other moment, she'll be very rough with you

Takes aftercare very serious, she'd pretty much do anything for you lmao

If she wants something, she's gonna get it. She will literally pull you aside to a more private spot just to fuck your brains out

She'd definitely call you "baby" a lot, i just know she would

(My friends headcanon, and mine tbh) Will speak Spanish to you while fucking you, dunno while, she just would

Teases you in public a lot. She'd definitely "touch" you in public, too🤭 (upcoming fanfic? Yes😈) i can just imagine her randomly moaning in your ear just so show you how horny she is

Would randomly grab your ass, for sure

She'd do pretty much anything to make you happy, you're her whole world

(According to my girlfriend) Rosita likes getting her ass ate🤭

Very touchy in public

Doesn't care where you guys are, she'd fuck you anywhere, during runs, in the woods, she'd even pull you in another room to fuck you knowing damn well there are other people in the house

With you 24/7 just to make sure you're save

If you do get hurt, even if it's just a tiny cut, she'd do anything to make sure you're fine

She'd kill for you

He likes cooking with you SO MUCH, and even if she's not cooking with you, she'd be standing there just to see you cook. She'd give you hugs and kisses and other stuff (you would end up not finishing the food and just making out or fucking her instead🤭)

You, her and Tara are an amazing trio together, bffs🤞 (though you and Rosita are a bit more than bffs LMAO)

I dont have much else LMAO, might make another part if i get more ideas😘

__________________

I finally posted something again😙 Rosita seems like she'd be such an amazing girlfriend😭 i will probably make headcanons for other characters, too (please request characters too if you want headcanons for them :3) Im currently writing 3 stories, Rosita x reader smut, Enid x reader smut and Tara x reader smut, i hope one of them is coming out next week but i cant keep promises, requests are open!! Have an amazing day <3

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #rosita espinosa #rosita espinosa x reader #rositara #twd rosita #maggie greene #maggie rhee #enid rhee #michonne #twd spoilers #headcanon #headcanons #tqxky

117 notes · View notes

sugawhaaa · 11 months

Text

Gaon one-shot

"I may or may not have lost my ring"

Paring::dom!Jiseok x sub!fem!reader

Warnings::smut

Word count::1,034

Genre::established relationship, smut, fingering, soft

~Not proof read~

A/N:: I cannot believe how many notes I got on my emo boy beomgyu fanfic!!!! And it such short time?!?!?! Tysm 😭

Song to listen to while reading::

Jiseok's fingers went in and out of you faster than you ever imagined. He kept repeatedly hitting your G-spot making you moan continuesly. As his fingers reached deeper and deeper into you, you felt your body getting tense and warm.

"Jiseok, I think I'm gonna cum," you barely moaned out as he curled his fingers in the most star seeing way possible.

"I want to see how good I make you feel baby," he smirked as he whispered in your ear, his hot breath present in your ear. Lord and behold you came with a moan. Jiseok praised you more than you thought he could as his fingers basically just stayed in their place inside you. Once you calmed down jiseok took his hands off of you and went to snuggle you in your bed. As he was pulling up the blankets his eyes widened as he looked at his hand. Meanwhile you had your eyes closed and were focused on sleeping. Gaon frantically looked through the bed making you open your eyes "Jiseok what are you doing?" You grumbled.

"Well…I may or may not have lost my ring," He said as his cheeks started turning red.

"When did you last have it?" You said sitting up.

"Before you came for the third time…" he said, biting his lip nervously. Your jaw dropped.

"Do you think it…?" You said resting your arms around your stomach as Gaon nodded his head.

"Maybe?" Jiseok said before biting his lip nervously again. You started panicking. "Will it come out if you go to the washroom?" He said with a little bit of hope in his eyes.

"No, that's not how it works," you laughed.

"I didn't think so," he sighed "well then there's only one way to get it back," he said, getting on top of you again.

"What do you mean!?" You said closing your legs tightly.

"I don't want a metal ring stuck in your body for the rest of your life!" He exclaimed.

"I can get it out myself!" You said tucking up your legs. Gaon's face seemed shocked and red. You blushed and looked away from him.

"I just think I have a better angle…"

"What!?!"

"I'm just saying!!"

The two of you bickered before deciding Gaon was right. You hung your head low in embarrassment. You watched as he inserted two fingers back into you. You bit your lip harshly as his fingers searched around your insides. You tried not to moan as much as possible, it was embarrassing! All he was trying to do was get his ring back, but instead he was over stimulating you. You felt yourself already starting to cum again, the way he curled his fingers in an attempt to feel the ring made you see stars.

"I have an idea…" Gaon said as he pulled out his fingers depriving you of your release. You tried to cover up the fact that this whole situation feels amazing to you.

"Yes?" You said as he started sitting up again.

"Why don't we use a metal tracker?" Jiseok grinned and you smacked his arm.

"Not funny Jiseok!" You said while laughing.

"But seriously, if I dunno you cum again, it might be easier to find it," he said waiting for your approval of his plan. He wasn't wrong. It would probably help, it's just a matter of how much you have left in you. You nodded.

"That's true…" you said, putting a finger to your chin "what are you waiting for?" You smiled at him and he nervously went back to searching. Jiseok's facial expressions changed very quickly as he explored you. How is this so difficult? I mean there's only so much space that it could've gone…Unless it was already out of you?

In the middle of your thought Gaon harshly pressed against your core making you release a loud moan before biting your lip again. Your eyes squinted shut as he repeatedly hit the same spot. With no luck of the ring he decided to go deeper. Your legs jerked, causing you to almost close them entirely before Gaon put his hand up to your thigh stopping you.

On impulse Jiseok started licking the inside of your thigh. The sensation of his warm tongue on your skin and his fingers so deep inside you they could reach your stomach. You grabbed his hair and tugged on it harshly. You muttered something under your breath that couldn't be heard by Gaon. He kept on reaching deeper inside you, you didn't even think it was physically possible to reach that far. You came all over him, soaking the sheets. Saying you came would be an understatement in this case.

Gaon looked up at you in shock as buried your face in the pillows.

"Was that supposed to happen…?" He said as he crawled up to you. You nodded with your face still in the pillow. Gaon seemed slightly worried that he did something wrong so you assured him.

"I squirted…it means you essentially did extra good,"

His face lit up at your words.

"What was that? Can you repeat that last part?" He said with a smirk as he leaned closer to you. You smacked him as you both laughed.

"Oh did you find your ring?" You said sitting up. He shook his head and you sighed. "I'm sure it's fine…well go to the doctor tomorrow," you shrugged. Gaon nodded as his head rested on the other pillow with his eyes shut. He seemed tired. You tucked his hair back behind his ear and kissed him on the head. "I need to run to the washroom. I'll be right back," you said, getting up and putting some shorts on.

"Okay," Gaon mumbled. As you started walking to the doorway you stepped on something cold and circular. You looked down and saw Jiseok's ring. You picked it up and examined it.

"Jiseok!" You shouted making Gaon sit up and look at you.

"What!?" He said with panic written all over his face. You harshly pointed at the ring you were holding up for him to look at, with a stern face. He chuckled nervously with a shrug as you sighed.

Disclaimer~this is a complete work of fiction and is only intended for the imagination of Villains :)

Thank you for reading!!!♡

#xdinary heroes #xdh imagines #xdh smut #xdinari hero fanfic #xdinary heroes fluff #xdh #xdh fluff #xdh x reader #xh gaon #xh jungsu #kwak jiseok #o.de xdinary heroes #xdinary heroes gaon #xdinary heroes smut #xheroes #xh #Spotify

192 notes · View notes

piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 4 months

Note

I mostly lurk and don't read a lot of ofmd fic (short ones, no au) but one I haven't seen much of is hurt/comfort where Stede is the hurtee/comfortee. I know Ed gets the most comforting but, IMO, Stede deserves some too, poor guy. I do like hurt/comfort a lot, so if you are moved to write something like this I would love to read it.

I remember an expression from back in the bronze age of fanfic, h/c, and slashfic that "if he's smaller or blonder, he's toast." Stede meets both those requirements, LOL! Anyway, thanks for asking for asks. Enjoy your posts and fic.

Yesss, Stede needs some comfort!! Bon appetit!

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic!

Ed didn’t realize what had woken him up, at first. The sunlight was just beginning to creep in through the curtains, and Stede’s shoulders were shaking. Stede was crying, little hiccups and hitching breaths as he tried to stay quiet, and Ed was reaching for his hand before he opened his eyes.

“Sorry,” Stede mumbled, squeezing Ed’s fingers with one hand and rubbing at his eyes with the other. His voice was creaky and wet, and it made Ed’s chest feel tight. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Ed couldn’t say Stede hadn’t woken him up, because he had. It wasn’t his fault, it just…was. He thought he would’ve felt it, no matter how hard Stede tried to hide it. He would have felt Stede’s pain in the air itself. “I’m glad you did,” he said instead, and it was true. He never wanted Stede to have to cry alone again. “What’s wrong?” Stede’s bottom lip trembled. “Have a bad dream?” Ed guessed. Slowly, Stede nodded, and Ed repositioned them, tangling their legs together under the blankets and pulling Stede into his chest. Stede pillowed his head on Ed’s bicep, one hand slipping under the covers to rest over Ed’s bare hip, tracing little nonsense patterns onto his skin. “You can tell me about it,” Ed said softly. “You don’t have to. But you can if you want to, you know I’ll listen.” Stede stared up at the ceiling, pursing his lips. “Might make you feel better,” Ed offered. Stede’s hand had gone all still where he’d been rubbing circles over Ed’s hip. “You listen to me talking about mine,” Ed went on. “It’s not fair, for you to just go on pretending you’re not having them. You don’t have to - no talking required here! - but you can. If you wanna.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Stede said carefully, his eyes flicking away from Ed’s. He sighed up at the ceiling. “Hardly seems fair. You have more right to bad dreams than I do-” “Stede, babe, it doesn’t work like that.” Ed reached up with his free hand to pull his hair, still in the ponytail he’d put it up in before bed, over his shoulder. The gesture accomplished what he’d set out to do, and Stede got his hand in it immediately, gently running a hand through his hair. “It’s not a competition. We can both have bad dreams, doesn’t mean you’re trying to…what, steal all the attention?” “Well,” Stede wheedled. “You listen here, Bonnet,” Ed said, lowering his voice to be all fake-menacing, “you better let me give you all the attention I want, or there’ll be - I dunno, consequences?” “Oh, no, not the consequences,” Stede pretended to whine. “Yep. I’ll eat all your dessert tonight,” Ed vowed. “So, if you feel like you wanna, you better talk to me. If you don’t want consequences. Because I’ll do that.” “Oh, I don’t doubt you would,” Stede chuckled, but he still looked hesitant, so… “How about this,” Ed said. “You could always make it into a story, if you like. Pretend you’re talking about someone else? Might be easier.” “I could try that,” Stede conceded. Ed hummed softly as Stede thought, enjoying the feeling of Stede’s gentle hand in his hair. “Once upon a time,” Stede began, “there was a very, very selfish man-” “Hey.” Ed gently poked Stede’s ribs. “What have we decided about this?” “Ow!” Stede squirmed away from Ed’s fingers, then flicked the tip of his nose in retaliation, and they both burst into giggles. “Seriously, though,” Ed said through his laugh.

“Fine, fine!” Stede huffed. “Once upon a time, there was a man who really wasn’t terribly or unusually selfish, if you were very generous with your definitions and were also feeling charitable on the day you decided to describe him.” “That’s better,” Ed allowed. “Thank you.” Stede gave him a small smile, but his eyes were getting distant, again. He had a faraway look Ed didn’t care for. “And that only typically selfish man once hurt someone he loves very badly, and he was almost too late to ever see him again. And he worries that he might just keep hurting him, because there’s something - something rotten in him, and it hurts people. He’s trying to be brave, and strong, and he’s trying to believe he’s not broken. But he’s not all that brave, and he’s not all that strong. The end.” Stede’s voice went all weak and shaky at the end, and Ed let out a breath through his teeth. Talking it through, when it came to the two of them, was usually a bit of a weepy affair. But it didn’t always have to be. Ed was getting better, at trusting Stede, at trusting himself, at knowing what would make Stede feel better. “Not all that strong?” Ed playfully squeezed Stede’s bicep. “C’mon, mate, have you even seen these guns?” Stede laughed, gratefully burying his nose in Ed’s neck when Ed threw an arm across his waist to hold him close. “Seriously, babe.” Ed leaned forward for a sweet little peck of a kiss, only pulling back far enough to brush their noses together. “You’re, like, the strongest guy I know.” “Ed, I wish you wouldn’t tease me-” “No teasing here,” Ed promised. “Seriously, you blow me away. You’re so thoughtful, and kind, and you’re so you all the time-” “That might actually be part of the problem.” “No, Stede, don’t you get it?” Ed cupped Stede’s face in his hands, making him hold eye contact, making him listen without looking away. “That takes a lot of guts, man. You never let anyone tell you who you should be, and I admire the hell out of you for it.” “Well, that’s…” Stede tried to hold back a smile, obviously flattered. “You’re so sweet.” “Not just a pretty face, huh?” Stede laughed, pressing his forehead against Ed’s, and Ed leaned in to meet him for a kiss that tasted like home.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics #actually managed to keep it to exactly 1k words. clap

55 notes · View notes