#sometimes a home is a person because you can come inside
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can you pretty please write ratio sunday and maybe gallagher with a reader who just brings animals home like one day they come home with just a dirty feral ass cat out of nowhere
of course I can love <33 I love this idea
White Jasmine
sypnosis: one day, you bring home a stray- much to his surprise you found it on the street
pairings: Ratio, Sunday and Gallagher x reader (Separate)
wordcount: 338 (Ratio), 364 (Sunday), 292 (Gallagher)
A/N: fluff and crack? I have NOT grasped enough of Gallaghers personality to write enough for him im so sorryyy
RATIO
"No." he said, nonchalantly as you pout with the kitten in your arms. "Why not? Look how cute he looks!" you said and your boyfriend grimaced as he saw the feral look on the 'kitten' that you held. "It looks like it wants to rip my face off. And here I thought you could use your brain for once." he added and you dramatically gasped, holding the kitten close to you. "How could you say that?! He's not an 'it'! Besides, all he needs is a bath, some food and some grooming. Plus, if he were to rip your face off, then it's because you made him uncomfortable." Ratio groaned in annoyance before you walked right past him, getting ready to help your kitten.
He followed quickly behind in fear for his dozens of books and whatever he has for studies. "What do you even want to name him?
"Emperor Maximillian Pusspuss."
"You cannot be serious."
Nevertheless to say, the two of you agreed on the name Cosine- mostly because that when Ratio tried to explain The Pythagorean theorem to 'an idiot' student (he called him that), the cat responded every time he said 'Cosine'.
After one long day of shopping, you opened the door to your shared house and noticed the lack of sounds from inside. Also, normally, Cosine would wait before the door once you entered, but not today. As you walked through the entire house, you stopped when you entered the bedroom, bringing out your phone to snap some pictures of the sight before you. There, your smart boyfriend laid on your bed with Cosine sleeping on his chest as he read a book. He looked up as he heard the shutter from your phone, "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, putting the book away. You smiled to yourself before walking up to the bed and petting Cosine, causing him to wake up and meow softly at you. "Well?" you took a glance at Veritas before you showed him the picture.
"Preserving memories."
SUNDAY
"Angel, this is the seventh time." he sighed, too tired to argument with you actually as you brought in yet another bird you found in Penacony. "But this one is injured." you said, showing your boyfriend the injured wing of the bird. He got up from his seat and you place the bird carefully on his hands when he stood before you. "Seems like a small fracture," he gently held the injured wing and inspected it before letting it rest beside the bird. "poor little thing." he quietly added before looking up to you. "I don't think we can care for another one, Angel." he said, but you shook your head, practically begging him. "pleaseeeee, the room is big enough for another, it can stay." he chuckled before the two of you began to walk to a distant room at Dewlight Pavilion.
Over the past 2 months, you have brought in six birds before this one, almost begging Sunday every time to help you heal them- after the fifth time you realized he only made you beg because he liked it. Together, with Robin's help, you have taken care of all the birds you have found. Even after they were healed, they chose to stay at Dewlight Pavilion, much like the origami birds that hid everywhere. Every morning, they would greet every with a delighted chirp and sometimes land on your or Robin's shoulder, but never Sunday's for some reason.
"Let me get some bandages and a intramedullary pin." you said, rushing to one of the shelves with the medicinal items. After making sure the bird was asleep for the procedure, you carefully drilled the pin into its bone before bandaging it up. Sunday gave you a small kiss as you placed the still sleeping bird on one of the pillows. "What was that for?" you asked, smiling at him. "I am not allowed to kiss you?" he chuckled before looking at the bird again. "This won't be the last, right?" You nodded and turned to him again. "Does it bother you already?"
"It does not. As long as there aren't too many staying here and you still remember that I'm present, of course."
GALLAGHER
"Here you g- what do you have there?" Gallagher just finished giving you your drink before he saw the stray hound that sat beside you. "Oh- this is Pee-wee." Gallagher remained silent before Siobhan laughed at the name behind him. "Pee-wee? That's his name?" he asked before silently mourning over the given name of that dog. You chuckled to yourself as you sat on one of the bar stools with your drink in hand and the hound also jumped onto one of the stools. "I was kidding, handsome. His name is Dexter. Fits more, don't you think?" you took a sip as he exhaled in relieve. "Oh thank god." Dexter swagged his tail as Gallagher pet him before turning to you. "Where did you get him?" he took notice of the amount of dirt in his fur and some injuries on his ears. "Near Dream's Edge. He was starving when I found him. Can we pretty please keep him?" Dexter barked at your idea and Gallagher found himself agreeing.
However, to what he was not agreeing was to you bring even more stray dogs to the bar, to the point where even the local Penacony monsters were unable to enter and the bar quickly lost customers.
"Ahem, don't you think you kind of... overdid it?" Siobhan asked you and Gallagher nodded, "They need to leave. Especially those who aren't even injured." you shook your head as you sat on the ground with almost five dogs trying to lie on your lap. "I'm unable to do so." Gallagher groaned as he gave up, sitting beside you and letting some dogs also lie on his lap.
"At least get them out of the bar. Argue with the Hotel Staff to let them wander around."
#sunday#Sunday x reader#Sunday x you#sunday hsr#Sunday honk star rail#hsr#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr fluff#honkai#sundayhonkaistarrail#honkaistarrail#gallagher#gallagher hsr#hsr gallagher#gallagher honkai star rail#Gallagher x reader#gallagher x you#ratio#dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio x you#dr ratio hsr#dr ratio honkai#dr ratio honkai star rail#honkai star rail drabbles
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THIS EVENT IS SO CUTE!!🩷🩷😭
could i req childhood best friends dan heng x reader
word(s) is sneaking out
if you want a timestamp, it's 11:42 p.m.
thank you so much!!!
THIS REQUEST WAS SO CUTE i had way too much fun with this this hit 1.5k words which is way over the limit i set for myself... but i do not regret it at all. I LOVE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND DAN HENG AAAA THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING
my 1k event!
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The ringing of your phone is cut off by the automated voicemail message for the nth time in a row. Your neck hurts from how long you’ve been staring up at Dan Heng’s bedroom window, where the lights are off and the curtains are drawn and he’s definitely asleep.
Anticipation makes you bounce on your feet, itching to just break into his front door and shake him awake yourself. Fortunately for Dan Heng’s family, it doesn’t quite reach that point, because your phone suddenly vibrates in your hand with Dan Heng’s contact flashing on your screen.
Incoming call. Jackpot.
“Dan Heng,” you answer the call with no formalities whatsoever, because those aren’t needed after knowing him for so long, “come outside! I’m here to pick you up.”
“What is wrong with you,” he grumbles out. The grit in his voice is endearing and familiar and makes your breath stutter. “It’s— almost midnight.”
“I know, and you’re already asleep? You’re such a senior citizen,” you hear the exhausted sigh he makes at another one of your old-man-Dan-Heng jokes. “There's a carnival tonight. Like, one of the cool ones that only open at 10 o’clock. March just texted me about it, she’s already there with Stelle!”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me earlier?” You hear shuffling, and spot movement in your peripheral vision. Craning your head up to look at his window yet again, you see the flicker of his bedside lamp being turned on (and you can already picture it from how well you know his room—that goofy-looking toucan table lamp that you got from some vintage store years ago for him), and the curtains pull back to reveal Dan Heng in all his half-asleep glory. He looks terrible, bangs sticking up and his corny galaxy-printed sleep shirt all wrinkled. It’s a charming look, though.
“I told you, March just texted me about it! Literally five minutes ago.”
“So, you ran here just to tell me about it?”
“Well, yeah, duh,” your tone is incredulous, because he should know by now that he’s the first person you go to for anything. The first person to hear about your failing grade in calculus, or your embarrassing run-in with your middle school ex girlfriend, or the bitter orange that you had as an afternoon snack. Dan Heng’s call history is probably full of your contact (which is just your name, no fun emoticons or inside jokes, and no profile picture, much to your everlasting dismay), and every call would show that he answers every single one without fail.
And, really, if you’re going to be honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), there’s a hopefulness twitching in your fingers tonight, something carried to you through the wind. You’re thinking of the carnival, about the sticky sweet snacks that you’re going to split with Dan Heng, the ferris wheel cart that you’ll be cramped in, the view of the stars from way up there and the tender way he’ll look at you.
Because he does that, sometimes, with no explanation, and you’ve never had the strength to respond in any way but a hesitant smile and a smack on his shoulder and a stupid joke. But there’s a tote bag slung around your arm now, full of money and two water bottles and the weight of your heart.
“Listen,” you tell him after a bout of his reluctant silence, “I brought you a jacket and your scarf, because I know you’re vitamin deficient and you’ll blow away in the wind unless I hold you down. It’ll be so fun if you come with me! Please? And I’ll get you home before your family notices!”
Both you and Dan Heng know that’s a lie, because you have a tendency to drag him out for long periods of time where both of you forget to check your phones. In your opinion, it does more good than harm, because it lets you live in the moment—or so you tell Dan Heng’s parents when they question you about keeping their son out past sundown.
“I’m not vitamin deficient,” Dan Heng tells you, but the argument is weakened by the fact that you’ve had to carry around a spare jacket for Dan Heng since you were both stumbling on your tiny baby legs. He must realize that, too, because you can see the way his face softens as he looks at you from his window, peering down. Despite the minimal light, you can still see the vibrant sheen of his eyes, the way that his mouth presses into a thin line to hold back a smile.
It takes only a moment of contemplation before he lets out a yielding sigh and mumbles, “Okay, fine. I’m coming downstairs to let you in and then I’ll get ready. Don’t be loud.”
“I’m never loud!”
The call ends with a click and Dan Heng slides his striped curtains closed. Circling around to get back to his front door, you made sure to be as quiet as possible and not trample his family’s gardenias. When the door opens to reveal Dan Heng’s beautiful, sleep-swollen face, an overwhelming warmth blooms in your chest and leaves your lungs dry and aching for air. The smile that appears on your face is instinctual, as most behaviors are for you around Dan Heng.
“Hi,” you whisper, really truly whisper, because he told you to be quiet and sometimes it’s good to do what Dan Heng wants (only sometimes). His lips are still tightened into that thin line, and you think, I’ll make him laugh tonight, which is a goal you’ve always set for yourself, ever since you befriended him in first grade with a paper flower and a loud, blatant, childish proclamation of best-friend-ship.
“Wait on the couch,” he directs you quietly, stepping aside to let you in. “Get a water from the fridge and pack it.”
“I already brought two for us,” the apples of your cheeks strain with the force of your smile, and you’re trying not to giggle. The water thing—that was established forever ago, too, just like the spare jacket, and staying out late, and the toucan lamp, and the paper flower. You always shared a water bottle, reminding each other and passing one between your hands until the last drops were wrung dry from it, and then you’d spend half an hour trying to find a fountain to refill it because you never packed more than two on any given day.
“Dan Heng,” you stop him with a hand on his shoulder before he can go back up the stairs to get ready in his room, and he looks back at you with the same look that you were envisioning before. The color of his eyes has gone dim, but in a fond way, in a way that tells you his breathing is even and his pulse is steady.
You take the brief moment where his attention is on you to wrap your arms around him, the sleeves of your jacket pulling him close, warm, tender to you. Your tote bag dangles awkwardly to the side, but you try not to let it stop you from squeezing him tight, letting him know you’re here, right here.
“What’s this about,” he mumbles into your shoulder, hands going up to grasp at the back of your sweatshirt and tug you just a few millimeters closer. A gentle weight sits between your hands and in your chest and you stifle a laugh into his barely-covered shoulder.
“Nothing. Just really happy you’re coming.”
“Okay,” he says, because he’s awkward and awful and so are you, but his hands still squeeze between your shoulderblades and keep you against him. A whistle of wind makes the gutters of the house creak, and you think of the stars that you’ll see from the top of the ferris wheel tonight, glinting in the sky and in Dan Heng’s eyes.
“Let me go so I can change.” His voice is monotone, seemingly disinterested, but you don’t take offense to it, you never have. Reluctantly, you loosen your grip around him, and let him pull back the rest of the way because you can’t bear to do it yourself.
The look, the glimmer, the depth of his eyes are all still there, accompanied by a new rosiness in his cheeks that you know isn’t caused by the heat of your hands or the cold wind outside. You don’t get the chance to laugh at the waver in his mouth as he fights back a small laugh, because he’s already turning back to rush up the stairs, stance wobbling as he tries to hide from his own embarrassment, and it’s so terrible and familiar and you ache with the urge to burrow into this home and make it your own.
Your phone is flooded with dozens of texts from March, you’re sure, but even as it pushes midnight, you take your sweet time walking to the carnival, fingers clasped with each other as your jacket hangs off of Dan Heng—like it always has, like it always will.
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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @flower-yi
event taglist: @confusion-star
fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!
#nora hits 1k#hsr x reader#dan heng x reader#honkai star rail x reader#danheng x reader#honkai x reader#dan heng hsr x reader#dan heng drabble#hsr drabble
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Mike Faist Fluff Alphabet ✢ Headcanons
Mike Faist x Female! Insert Reader
SYNOPSIS! ✦ headcanons based on the ask of these prompts!!
WARNINGS! ✦ None, sfw.
NOTES! ✦ link to template for these are here! no proof reads, lmk if something’s wrong! <3
Mike Faist Masterlist . About Me + Rules .
A — Admiration . . . What Do They Absolutely Adore About You?
One of the things he adores about you is your leniency with everything. Your ability to forgive and be tolerant of certain things is really nice to him, since no one’s perfect and even Mike makes mistakes sometimes. Mike always assumed the worst whenever he messes up something small and thinks you’ll hold it against him, which is so far from the truth. He has to constantly remind himself that you’re not there to belittle him for everything, and it’s okay to tell you things.
B — Body . . . What Is Their Favorite Part Of Your Body?
His favorite part is your smile. You’re a silly person naturally, so a grin is always spread onto your face. He makes you laugh a lot, and you do the same for him. He’s definitely attracted to your happiness. Don’t even be insecure if you’re teeth may be crooked, if your lips look a certain way, ect. he does not care!! Smile all the time!
C — Cuddling . . . How Do They Like To Cuddle?
He prefers to cuddle with you sat up and seated, cause whenever you two do cuddle laying down, he falls asleep. He can’t help it! You’re comforting to be around.
D — Dates . . . What Does Their Ideal Date With You Look Like?
He’s content with anything as long as it’s private. On dates, Mike likes to give his sole attention to you and doesn’t want outside distractions or interruptions. He’s also not too particular with dates, but he does prefer calm ones. Although he doesn’t mind those crazier dates like rock climbing, clubbing, ski-ing ect. he likes ones where he doesn’t have to do much as well. Mike loves having fun, but he’s a homebody too. His ideal dates are picnics at the park, beach, or having a quiet dinner in a cozy restaurant. If your dates mostly consisted of eating inside either (or your shared) homes, he’d be fine with that too.
E — Emotions . . . How Do They Express Emotion Around You?
He’s a honest partner, but he’s not always comfortable with being verbally vulnerable. He doesn’t want to burden you with his issues or thoughts initially, so a lot of the times of when he’s upset, you have to look for any physical cues on him. Similar reasoning from letter A.
F — Family . . . Do They Want One? If They Do, When?
He does, but he isn’t sure when is the right time. With his career and constantly being on the move, he doesn’t know how he’ll want to balance work life and family life. He doesn’t work a office job where he can go in during the day and come back in the evening, he’s an actor! Actors schedules constantly shift and he may be expected to travel. You knew what you were signing up for when you got together with him, so he really wants to leave the decision of a family to you.
He has a great relationship with kids. Because of his energy and kind smile, kids naturally are drawn to him and want to play/hang out with him. He’s polite and super fun, and he’s also good at a lot of things. He’d be a great father, but he underestimates himself.
G — Gifts . . . How Do They Feel About Gift Giving? What Are Their Habits When It Comes To This?
He doesn’t mind giving gifts but it’s not his main love language. He’s the type of person where he likes to save gifts for special occasions so they can feel extra special. Occasionally, he might gift you something small and silly to make you laugh but the meaningful gifts are for certain occasions. He also entirely chooses your gifts for your benefit and wants, not his.
H — Holding Hands . . . When/How Do They Like To Hold Hands?
Mike is not a huge fan of PDA, but he’s not completely against it either. This doesn’t mean he’s not physically affectionate with you at all, cause that’s false!! He’s just not the type of guy to make out with you in public or grab your butt in front of friends… (I find those things corny.) Subtle affection like hand holding is great with him! He doesn’t mind holding your hand as you guys walk, sit down, or talk. He’s a private person, but he’s not gonna keep your relationship a secret.
He likes to interlock fingers! It’s comforting to him and if your walking through somewhere crowded, you won’t feel like you’re slipping away. He doesn’t like those hand holds where it’s him holding your hand and you’re not, or you’re holding is hand and he’s not, he likes to keep it mutual. One parter just holding onto the other feels territorial.
I — Injury . . . How Would They Act If You Got Hurt?
If you slip on the floor and fall, he’s gonna rush over and check on you with a smile cracked on his lips. He’s not doing it to make you embarrassed, he just finds it cute, in a way! If it’s funny, he’ll try to hold it in and make sure you’re recomposed. He doesn’t like to see you hurt at all.
Now, he’s not a monster! If you seriously get injured, he’s gonna be devastated! He’s a responsible person and when put in a panicked situation, he knows how to calm you and/or the area down. Not saying he won’t be stressed or alarmed, but he’s gonna take you to the hospital or doctor to make sure you’re alright.
J — Jokes . . . Do They Like To Joke Around With Or Prank You? How?
He definitely does, no question about it. You two joke around and share many laughs with each other. He doesn’t necessarily prank you crazily, but he does in a small way.
If you’re new here, Mike is a actor. A incredible one, and with being a actor it’s easy for him to tell little lies. Sometimes when he says things, you’re prone to believe it based off his face and tone. For example, he’d do those pranks where it’s “My gosh, [insert a celebrity you like] has just died!” and you’d definitely become hysterical trying to find out if it’s true, the whole time he’s sitting there smiling internally as you’re freaking out. He doesn’t keep it up forever though and always comes clean, you’d complain but you’re not actually hurt. If anything, you reciprocate and pull mini pranks like that on him all the time. Yet, he’s skeptic whenever you try since you’re not as good at pranking him then he is with you.
K — Kisses . . . How Do The Like To Kiss You?
Now, a controversial opinion… He just loves those short kisses! Those kisses where he leans down to kiss you on the lips deeply but fast are his favorite. He likes to see your facial expression afterwards, nine times out of ten you’re grinning from ear to ear. He doesn’t mean pecks where it’s so quick the other partner can’t catch it, but the short regular ones. Despite this, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love those long kisses either.
L — Love . . . How Do They Show They Love You?
Quality time is his favorite way! It sucks because sometimes he has to be away from you for periods of time because of his job, but it’s his favorite way of showing how he loves you. Mike can be anti-social sometimes and does cherish his away time, but quality time together is his love language cause it means he’s sharing his space and extra time for you. When you two are together, it doesn’t feel like a chore or obligation to be around each other. He genuinely enjoys your company, he wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t.
M — Memory . . . Favorite Memory Together?
Meeting your family was one of his favorite memories. You come from a big family and they were all so excited to meet him. Some of them couldn’t believe he was this star who could sing and dance as he was so bashful around everyone! He was super polite and warm to everyone. Your parents are obsessed with him and whenever you try to come around, the first thing they ask is “Where’s Mike? How’s Mike doing?”
When he was first invited to a family get together, he was set on making a good impression, and he sure did! He met and greeted everyone, he played with the kids for a little bit, he help set the table when your mother asked, he even sat down with your dad, uncles, and some other guy relatives and they had a drink and chatted. He came to have a genuine good time with them all, and was glad to hear that they like him so much, cause he was planning on being with you for the long run.
N — Nightmare . . . What Is Their Worst Fear?
Disappointing or not living up to certain expectations. Mike can be very tough on himself and underestimates his abilities. If you listen to any peer, actor, or even directors he has worked with, they all have such uplifting things to say about him. How Mike always goes above and beyond in whatever he does. He doesn’t just do this to please others, but he does it to please himself.
Before his career, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for him, so working hard is always the mindset that he lives in. It’s a sense of security for him.
O — Oddity . . . What Is One Quirk They Have?
Most of the time, you can read what he’s thinking or feeling through his eyes. It’s not odd, it’s pretty regular but it’s much more intriguing from him. Mike has heterochromia which means his eyes are two different colors! It’s not something you see often but it’s not uncommon. Not only are they different but he’s naturally handsome as well and as luscious eyelashes to go with his eyes. You’ve learned that whenever he’s listening to something, he might not do the talking but his eyes will.
For example, if you say something totally unexpected, his eyes might widened and he’s gonna blink repeatedly. If you say something funny, he’s gonna chuckle and his eyes will squint. He doesn’t always realize you look in his eyes to read him.
P — Pet Names . . . What Do They Like To Call You?
He likes to keep it simple, he doesn’t do those extra cheesy pet names like “sweetie pie” and “boo boo bear” he can’t stand those!! A good go-to nickname for you is a short “Babe”. If you’re not really into pet names but you do have a nickname that’s known from close friends or loved ones, he can call you that too!
Q — Quality Time . . . How Do They Like To Spend Time With You?
He likes to spend it privately and not too much outside distractions. He wants all his focus on you to let you know that he’s listening and paying attention to you.
R — Rhythm . . . What Song Reminds You Of Them?
“There! I’ve Said it Again” sung by Bobby Vinton!!
I really don’t have any reasoning for it, but this is my selection! Because Mike was into the older movies with Gene Kelly and more, I’d think he’d appreciate that older genre of music too. This is a slow yet lovely song.
S — Secrets . . . How Open Are They With You?
Like stated before, he’s honest with you but it may take some coaxing for him to speak up. He’s good at acting and ignoring something, but after so long he can’t always keep it up, so you’re always bound to find out. As time goes on, he gets better at being more open.
T — Time . . . How Long Does It Take You To Get Together?
Surprisingly, he’s persistent. As much as he’s an over-thinker, he’s not gonna make any decisions he’s gonna regret if he knows he has a chance.
I definitely see you two starting off as friends and slowly falling for each other. It all really depends on the circumstances of how you two crossed paths for how long it takes for you to get together.
U — Upset . . . How Do They Act When You’re Upset?
His first priority is to comfort or calm you down. When upset, you’re not gonna always think rationally and he doesn’t want you to wear yourself out or do anything you’d regret. If there’s a issue, he won’t ultimately take over and help you, but he will assure and offer solutions if you need it. Sometimes, that’s all a person really wants when they’re upset and he realizes that over time.
V — Vaunt . . . What Are They Proud Of? Do They Like To Show You Off?
Despite his humble demeanor, he’s very proud and grateful for how far he’s come into his career. There was a point in his life where he felt like he wasn’t going to get as far as he wanted, yet he’s proven himself wrong.
He doesn’t mind showing you off at all! He loves you and everything you do. The reason he doesn’t have you out there to the public like crazy isn’t because he’s ashamed to be with you, but it’s because he values your privacy and his. Despite this, the instances where you two are put out in the spotlight, he’s making it known that you’re his and he’s yours!
W — Warrior . . . How Do They Feel About You Fighting? Would They Fight For You? Beside You? Ect.
Verbal or Physical, he doesn’t want you fighting at all! Mike likes to keep the peace in situations and feels that fighting isn’t the way to go. Although, he doesn’t want you to get walked over on and allow yourself to be backed into a corner. If we’re speaking about verbal fighting, he wholeheartedly supports you defending yourself and knows you’re an adult and you should be able to handle yourself. He won’t say anything but he will be alongside you to comfort you. Now, if it calls for it, he will defend you with no hesitation. If someone tries to insult/put you down while you’re not there to defend yourself, you bet he’s going to shut that down. So don’t even worry!
X — X-Ray . . . How Well Are They Able To Read You?
In the beginning of your relationship, it was so hard for him. At times he’d read too much and think the worst instead of coming up and communicating with you. Eventually, he’d get the hang of it all and now he can read you like an open book. He’s memorized your quirks and behaviors whenever you’re happy, sad, angry ect. and so have you for him.
Y — Yes . . . How Would They Propose To You?
Now, what some people may not know is that Mike has a pilot’s license! He wanted to make the proposal memorable for you and him, and he was wondering if he should do something totally different then you’d expect! With some coaxing from friends and his half brothers, they encouraged him to propose to you while flying! With some convincing, he pushed for you to join him on flying out. He assured you’d be safe and staged that his half brother couldn’t be his co-pilot and needed to go out because “he didn’t want his skills to get rusty.” You believed him obviously and followed through and as you two drove out in the air, he popped the question on you privately, handing you a ring box as he drove. You cried tears of joy and accepted his proposal.
( ^ should I turn this into a imagine or blurb? 🫣)
Z — Zen . . . What Makes Them Feel Calm?
Knowing that you’re understanding and listening to him always. There’s a different between hearing and listening to someone. Sometimes, he feels invalidated on his wants and expressions therefore he doesn’t always outright admits to when he has a problem with something. You know he doesn’t like to ask for assistance or help, and will do it himself before anything. That’s why, whenever you feel or get a hunch that there’s something off, you immediately ask him if he’s alright or if there’s anything he’d want you to do. He appreciates it so much, and even if he declines your help and controls your worries, it means so much that you’re wondering how he’s feeling. To you, this is the bare minimum but to him, it means a lot.
#mike faist fanfiction#mike faist x female reader#mike faist x reader#mike faist imagine#mike faist x you#mike faist headcanons#mike faist#mike faist x wife reader#art donaldson x reader#we need mike faist now#mike faist x reader fluff
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25 with planymphia? 🥺🖤
blossoming romance writing prompts:
25. finding comfort in their scent.
Jane knew something was wrong when she closed the door behind her. Everything seemed to be in place, yes, but she trusted her gut feeling when it came to Nymphia.
It wasn’t unusual for their shared apartment to be quiet whenever her girlfriend was left alone — infrequent, but not unusual. Nymphia sometimes chose silence even with her, after a draining day of work or maybe because her thoughts were too loud and she needed to put them in order before coming back to Jane. She would still look for her then and curl on her lap like a cat, answering all conversation starters with hums then nudging Jane’s arm for her to shut up, too.
A silent apartment shouldn’t be enough to worry, yet she still took off her shoes faster than her regular pace, clicking her tongue impatiently when she missed the coat hanger by half an inch and had to pick her jacket up from the floor.
“I’m home!”
Nymphia’s reply of “Jane?” came from their bedroom, and she found herself sprinting there within seconds. There were tears hidden in Nymphia’s voice, a slight extra whine she would recognize in her sleep coming from her girl, and it made Jane nervous. Her girlfriend wasn’t not a crybaby, tears came more naturally to her than they ever could to Jane, but she usually had a good reason to cry.
She found Nymphia on the bed, 80% of her pretty face covered by the red hoodie she had on, one that belonged to Jane and was a personal favorite of hers. Further inspection also showed Nymphia had stolen the blanket Jane wrapped around herself every night, because her girlfriend kept hogging the covers. It was pressed to her chest as if it were a plushie.
Their eyes met, Nymphia’s chocolate color dimmed with flicks of red from crying, her whole face puffy. Jane wrapped her arms around her and kissed the tip of her pink nose, satisfied when it made her girlfriend's tense body relax in her embrace.
She kissed her more, of course, how could she not? A gentle kiss pressed to her forehead after pushing her yellow bangs aside, followed by a peck to her lips and two kisses to her cheeks. Jane would have kissed her for hours, it was actually her plan after coming home from work, except Nymphia’s smile was faltering and she looked ready to talk.
“Can you tell me what happened, baby?” Jane asked in the softest tone she could measure, pulling Nymphia to sit fully on her lap. She watched her girl make herself smaller inside the hoodie and hide her face on her chest, inhaling deeply.
“My mom and I got into a pretty big fight on the phone…” she started, hot tears wetting Jane's uniform shirt. She didn't care. “It was my fault, of course. I can't expect an old lady to change her ways, it's me who should be patient and–”
“And you are,” Jane interrupted. “Your mom knows that, baby girl. She knows how much you care for her no matter the fights.”
Nymphia stayed on crying, so all Jane did was rub circles on her back and control her tongue. She found herself mere seconds away from telling her that crying over it would not fix a fight, and all she had to do was to wait it out until the next day, when she could message her mother and settle things for once.
If it were anyone else, Jane would have given that advice already, and probably would’ve felt pretty good about herself at that. Not with Nymphia, though, not the sweet, anxious soul she had. She felt things too intensely, couldn't handle not being able to instantly work through a tough situation. Jane had to be patient with her.
“I just wish I didn't lose my temper,” she whispered in a shaky voice after minutes of silence. Jane chuckled when Nymphia pulled a face, thankfully earning her another chuckle in return.
“Well, do you think you can fix it next time? Like, talk to her without losing your mind?” Jane asked in a playful tone.
A soft nod was her response. “There you go, baby. You just gotta wait for the next time you talk.”
Nymphia nodded again, and she took her hand in hers.
“So, when are you gonna apologize for stealing my favorite hoodie and my blanket?”
The silly accusation made Nymphia laugh out loud, shrugging apologetically in spite of her smile. “M’sorry, they just… You weren’t here and they smell like you, so they make me feel a little bit better.”
If her heart skipped a beat at the adorable confession, it wasn’t anyone’s business. And if she blushed at the thought of her girlfriend needing her this badly, at least she could bury her face in Nymphia’s hair so it wasn’t visible.
“I can cover you in my scent now, if you’ll let me,” she replied quickly and wiggled her eyebrows, her second nature of keeping things unserious kicking in.
Nymphia kicked her leg as Jane’s hands flew to her waist, but when she spoke again, her voice gave away the laughter.
“Evil.”
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Eden and Ghost NSFW Alphabet (MDNI)
(divider by @chloekistune )
Before starting I wanted to say that this is just a personal thing and that those who are not comfortable can move on, I understand 😌💚 (the SFW version will also arrive) so I advise you not to read below the cut
A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
After sex they certainly prepare a hot bath together, relaxing and cuddling(maybe with some herbal tea)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
Eden: His chest and his eyes (Ghost has a milky factory sorry not sorry)
Ghost: Her breasts (it's canon for me that the man in question is a boob worshiper, regardless of size) and her eyes (when she comes he has this thing of grabbing her by the chin and looking into her eyes)
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Eden:Even though she can't have children, she doesn't mind if Ghost comes inside her, sometimes even in her face while she's wearing glasses.
Ghost: Him everywhere, he doesn't care where but he basically loves her nectar
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Eden: She is a domme and loves shibari (a Japanese practice that includes ropes for those who don't know) and sometimes with him they doing that
Ghost: He is a nuru massage enthusiast, he loves having oil massage sex
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
Eden: She had several experiences before Ghost, all in which she didn't feel in perfect control of the situation
Ghost:He had some experience but less than Eden, due to his job
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Eden: Lotus and 69
Ghost: Missionary(especially if he is on top, holding her legs on his shoulders) and the full nelson (this in my opinion is Ghost's favorite general position)
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
It depends on the situation, they can have moments in which they are serious because they are touch starving and moments in which they laugh like two idiots (my idiots <3)
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Eden: She has slightly hair on her pussy, it doesn't bother her
Ghost: He has some hair but being blond they are very little visible (yes, including below) and it doesn't bother him when he eats her out
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
They are very romantic, Eden above all tries to reassure Ghost as much as possible, she wants them both to be at ease (they always have the key word) and Ghost loves being able to hear Eden's words of reassurance because they make him feel safe
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Eden: Eden has no problem with masturbation, alternating manual masturbation with sex toys
Ghost: He also used masturbation very often...but he prefers Eden to do it for him (she behind him jacking him off, maybe even with a fleshlight from time to time)
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Eden:
Sensory deprivation and it's a bit of a contradiction but for Eden seeing her partner or her wearing a blindfold is something that excites her at a certain point
Light bondage because it allows her to have control
Voice kink because Eden loves Ghost's voice when he begs her not to stop
Ghost:
Edging because he loves to test Eden and see where she can go (they are both switches even if Eden is slightly more dominant)
Breast/nipple worship man loves boobs, end of story(especially after they retire and Eden have nipple piercings)
Praise kink because Ghost needs reassurance and when Eden does that by calling him my big boy it's something that makes him proud
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Probably in their home but if I had to choose a different place I would say it was when they happened to do it in that bathroom in the Los Vaqueros military base, both of them didn't mind, especially thinking about the proud sense of belonging to each other
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Just a word, a look and a caress in both cases is enough to make it clear that they both want it. They don't need much (although Ghost gets very excited to see her wearing his favorite Everton shirt)
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Eden: the wax kink because since fire is one of her phobias, if she tries that it reminds her of what happened to her as a child
Ghost: The breath play because it reminds him of when he was buried alive
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Eden:She loves both receiving and giving, she literally wants Ghost feel appreciated (and she is very fond of foreplay)
Ghost:He loves to give, he would stay for hours and hours between Eden's legs until he becomes pussydrunk
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
They are both slow and sensual, for them every moment is important. Every caress, word, kiss must be done in such a way as to make the other feel pleasure. The only time their sex was probably faster and rougher was in Las Almas, when after much back and forth they finally decided to get back together.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Eden: For her there are no problems, if there is a hasty situation and he asks there are no problems for her
Ghost:He's not a fan of quickie things but sometimes he just happens to do something quick
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Yes, they love risk (in the case of doing it in a public place) but if both agree (consent is always the key word)
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Eden: She has a lot of stamina, she could last for hours thanks also to her training
Ghost: This man is full of muscles so he can last several rounds too (sex with Eden always ends with them getting super sweaty, sex session are better than gym)
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
For both of them yes, sometimes to spice things up they like to use sex toys. Dildos, fleshlights, shibari ropes, remote stimulators. They love to vary.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Eden: Of the two, she's the one who loves to provoke, she knows Ghost likes her and sometimes she purposely wears things and speaks in a certain way to provoke him.
Ghost: He's not the type to provoke, he's just a guy who's standing like this🧍🏼♂️
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Eden:It depends on the circumstances but she's not very loud compared to Ghost, more this thing of whispering in his ear and moaning
Ghost: He's the grunting type, the type who tries to hold back but eventually fails and gets loud
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Eden: Mh I think a random HC is the one who the first time they decided to have sex she wanted to have a session with him with her psychologist to try to understand what he didn't like, what triggered him
Ghost: One of the first times they did it on the sofa he accidentally grabbed the lamp and made it fall. They were laughing for half an hour with him still inside her, another thing is that he likes to put a thumb in her mouth between the act and letting her suck.
X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
Eden: trimmered on the side, a little dark blond hair in the upper part, she has small breasts, 34a, a tattoo on her groin
Ghost: 8 cm, with large balls and little fat. No trimmer as the hairs are blonde
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Eden: medium, it all depends on how she feels
Ghost:Also medium but slightly less than Eden, there are times he prefers cuddles to sex
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
After sex they always go for a bath but if the session lasted a long time they fall asleep immediately (sometimes even with him inside her)
#x: fire and gasoline#oc:eden“spectra”park#pairing: ghost & eden#call of duty oc:eden “spectra” park#call of duty oc#call of duty#simon ghost riley#cod oc#original character#cod mw2#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost x eden#ghost x female oc#ghost x ofc#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#cod modern warfare#ghost simon riley#ghost smut#call of duty smut#cod modern warfare 2#ghost mw2#ghost mw3
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I keep thinking about the mechanics for how to make kazumaji happen outside of adrenaline fuelled lovemaking , like obviously majima isnt going to solicit him for an actual relationship because whatever they have going on is already more than he expected to get because majima isnt a wanting man he gets dealt his hand then he plays (plus hes waiting for someone else , he cant leave and have his story end with kiryu , they both know this) , kiryu isnt a wanting man either i mean not for his love life but you know this guy fights like hell to get what he wants. He doesn’t exactly have a problem pulling girls but its the commitment after thats the issue , he always has someplace to be thats not here no matter how suave and charming he is youre gonna be wondering why he ghosted you for three years then find out he just got released from prison the point is that he doesnt follow through. Once youre done with him then youre done and very rarely is he gonna come back (unless he wasnt actually done with you). Majima offers to help him out in osaka and kiryu says no no no see ive left you behind i have to live this next chapter of my life properly now , without you. He has this inability to understand that people want to spend time with him thats not him helping them / repaying him a favour / working together to achieve a common goal. You literally cant assume he’ll be around you really have to cling tight or he’ll find some reason to fuck off and by then you cant even ask him to stay because Shit is it a good reason. Y0 nishiki got so so fucking close to showing kiryu he didnt need to have any redeeming qualities for people to like hanging out with him. He didnt need to be fun or like to party or entertaining at all , just him sitting quietly on a nearby barstool and maybe clapping along is enough to make his night fun as hell. Im sure kiryu realises that he can be distant and lack initiative , im sure this self awareness has convinced him that hes an undesirable long term romantic partner , and majima fucking up big time with mirei also forces him to internalise the fact that hes not a good partner either. So the two of them have to really really Really want something to start it because otherwise theyd be gracefully and expertly sidestepping any mention of commitment , pirouetting around the word “partner”, assuming they’ve made things clear when no discussion had taken place. They dont figure it out because its obvious to everybody thats not them, all the thinly veiled offers to be useful to each other, the leaning forward when they speak to each other , the open mouthed kisses with tongue , they want each other. More than one time , more than This... but how does one communicate something they havent realised yet ...
#Yakuza loveblog#now hear me out .. kiryu only asks girls out but he wont say no if a guy (he likes) solicits him (if its a guy he doesnt like hed be like#EW !! no !!! <- using his homophobic voice) so bear with me. kazumaji can happen the moment kiryu realises that majima is a girl#i like tht kiryu isnt interested in long term relationships but also hes kind of horny. a barker would be like Hey ! you look like you have#big muscles / a deep voice / masculine energy Sir do you want to HAVE SEX ? And kiryus like Now you got me interested#girls will sexually harrass him but guys on the street will tell him shit like Im a straight man but ....#anyway i believe that majima has to get the ball rolling before kiryu can take it the whole way because he decides that he loves this a lot#i think that they should book a hotel room in osaka for about two to three hours (kiryu is not going to risk doing it in the orphanage) and#kiryu loves him enough to tell him i cleaned my ass for this <3 and when majima is sack deep he asks if kiryu has had any girlfriends since#leaving tokyo (he cares a lot. he would be happy if kiryu got a girlfriend to take care of him) and he laughs and asks him how the hell hes#supposed to get a girlfriend while taking care of nine kids and besides .. he only likes him. right now kiryu only likes majima ...#i think he might cry from being told that. i really think he likes kiryu a ridiculous amount and it made him melt to hear that#sometimes a home is a person because you can come inside#and the only thing kiryus waxing is poetic hashtag bush nation#im not done. sorry for signing off. i believe that majima doesnt get jealous he might get a bit melancholy but he wont lash out because#kiryus ‘seeing some other girl’ he would totally ship them forgive my phrasing hed be the best wingman ever he would also drill kiryus#partner like hiiii so this is the lucky lady <3 and conduct a full background check on her just to be safe. kiryus precious to him he#gotta scare her a bit. let her know just how important kiryu is to him and how sharp his knife is haha take it easy though. hope you make#him happier than i could. i think their relationship will always skew one way with majima knowing everything about kiryu and kiryu knowing#very little about majima. he would be surprised to learn that majima is divorced. he was surprised to know that majima had a brother#in a better universe kiryu would have been able to identify saejima by description alone. as it stands i think he might have had an inkling#looking at ... ‘suzuki’ and thinking majima had a brother in prison .. hmmm ... somehow this guy reminds me of him ..... somehow#anyway he knows majima doesnt like to talk about it so he forgets his past and takes him as he is now. doesnt ask where all those scars on#his wrists came from. doesnt ask about his ex wife. hes content to exist as they are and majima knows kiryu wont ask and he feels bad about#it because he thinks kiryu should know .. but the words dont come out and kiryu is always so understanding ...#i think saejima makes majima talk but thats cause hes big on communication. he squeezes it out of majima and he cries hearing what he was#put through and majima comes out of it raw but lighter. see saejima is his best friend but kiryu is his special baby boy the dont need to#they dont have to say anything theyre just here for the company#okay im done hii hiiiiiiiiii hiiiiiiii hi
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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rotten to the touch; luke castellan
series masterlist
wc: 3.2k
pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.
warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’
notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain
You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.
It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.
It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.
Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.
But everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.
But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?
Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.
You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.
During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.
He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.
Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.
Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.
Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.
The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.
But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.
An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”
“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.
You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”
“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”
You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.
The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.
Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.
To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?
They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:
“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”
You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.
“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.
Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.
The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.
He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.
“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.
“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”
It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”
You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”
His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”
You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”
The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.
“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”
“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.
He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”
It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”
He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”
“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”
Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.
But when you play, you play to win.
“You don’t know that,” he dares.
“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”
However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.
He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”
All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.
“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.
He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”
The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.
“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”
His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.
“One of?” You challenge.
“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”
You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”
His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”
There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.
His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.
His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”
“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”
Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.
He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.
“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.
“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.
He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”
“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.
He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”
Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.
It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.
He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.
After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.
“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.
“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”
You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”
“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”
“Thanks, dipshit.”
“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”
The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.
The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.
He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”
He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.
After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.
He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”
And damn it, you really do believe him.
#perrie’s fics#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo x reader#pjo series#pjo tv show#luke castellan smut#pjo#heroes of olympus#charlie bushnell#i like sexy evil people making out okay.#maybe will make a part 2 to this series because i’m just so fascinated by their weird little dynamic but we’ll see#i kind of hate this but WE MOVE ANYWAYS!!
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“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.
He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.
I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.
- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.
Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’
Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.
That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.
- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.
But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.
- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.
Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.
- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.
Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.
- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.
Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]
MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.
His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.
- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.
It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.
“Didn’t think you’d call.”
“Didn’t think I would either.”
He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.
- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.
So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.
Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.
Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.
- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.
Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.
- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.
He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)
He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.
Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.
LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.
- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.
GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.
#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#cod x reader#call of duty smut#cod smut#141 headcanons#headcanon#drabble
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you
but keeps it to goodnight
because love will take some falling
and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
#nosebleed club#sorry stephen not ur fault#just like. thinking#writeblr#spilled ink#warm up#every time nat is like - oh let me get that for u#im like .... this is a trick right like ur gonna be mean now bc u did something nice rn#so obviously if ur being nice now either u did something mean and im about to learn about it#or you're going to BE mean#or ur gonna hold this over my head forever and i'll never get a nice thing ever again?#and every time nat is like .... babe i just actually like u#lesbian jesus story is 100% real btw. she also told me not to be an event planner#literally changed the shape of my life
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The great thing about having no internet for a couple of weeks is, you get so much stuff done. I've made great strides in my fight against invasive plants in the pasture!
^ This large rock used to be lost in a sea of broom, you couldn't even see it.
It's a lot more fastidious now that I'm uprooting plants one by one with the root slayer instead of clearing the whole area with a brushcutter, but hopefully they'll no longer be able to sneakily bide their time underground and then grow back even stronger from their intact root system.
I took some in-progress pictures—don't these invasive plants look like a retreating army?
We've had a tiny bit of April snow—I don't know if I can call it that, the air just felt icy and wet and tangible, if I opened my mouth I could feel snowflakes fly into it but nothing was actually falling on the ground. It felt like being repeatedly enveloped then dismissed by clouds that had made plans to drop their snowflakes elsewhere.
But every time I saw Pandolf he looked like a starry night, so there really were snowflakes in the air!
It felt very satisfying to come home with my face and hands all numb and warm up by stuffing entire wheelbarrows' worth of broom into the wood oven then throwing a match. Ever since I've learnt that this plant attracts ticks, burning it has felt like defeating two enemies at once. I listen to the lovely little crackling sounds of a broomfire and picture hundreds of ticks popping like popcorn.
My animals didn't enjoy being stuck inside snow clouds all day—I saw the llamas use their shelter for once, and Pandolf politely asked to come in and sit by the fire instead of staying out to collect more snowflakes in his fur, so I think they were all already in spring mode in their minds.
Merricat also (less politely) asked for shelter, but Merricat treats every instance of wet weather like a national scandal that I personally failed to prevent.
Even the hens wanted to come sit by the fire, and when I said no (you are hens), one of them ignored me and walked in, resolutely, clucking for the younger hen to follow her, like "let me teach you how it's done".
You know when you want to eat a crêpe in a crêpe restaurant in Paris and the waiter looks baffled that you envisage to buy food in his food establishment and he says no that won't possible, and you're like these people over there are having coffee they're almost done we'll just wait inside for their table!, and (with mounting horror) he says no no no if you really insist on giving us your money then you must wait in the street for the privilege, and watch the diners through the window like little orphans, and then your more assertive, confident friend militantly walks in anyway, encouraging you like, come on he's not gonna call the police, we're about to pay 12€ for 1 crêpe I think we can wait inside thank you very much—because a dismissive aristocratic aplomb is the only attitude that'll get you a table in a crêperie in Montparnasse sometimes? It was pretty much this dynamic. Between me and my hens.
#crawling along#my internet came back this afternoon! i had lost all hope#the icy snow clouds solidified the little particles of internet in the air (i think)
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Steddie where Eddie moves into a small house in a retirement mobile home park. He is the youngest guy there and is pretty handy. All the old ladies in the neighbourhood start to talk about him when he begins to offer his handyman skills to them as well.
One day after finishing up winterizing Mrs. Harrington’s water supply to her trailer she invites Eddie inside for some tea to warm up. Winter hadn’t hit yet but it was already nippy out she told him. Once inside she invites him to come over Sunday night to join her and her friends ‘book club’. At first Eddie politely declines but once she explains to him that its all the old ladies in the neighbourhood sitting around drinking wine, smoking joints, and gossiping he’s in.
Enter Steve who visits his grandma every Sunday for dinner and sometimes stays for her gossip sessions with all the other bitties in the neighbourhood because the snacks are always great. Steve is surprised that week when the door bell rings and a hot long haired pierced man covered in tattoos is standing there instead of another old woman handing him her coat and cane. Steve sputters for a moment but then his grandmother is coming up behind him explaining this is the young man who fixed her water supply for her.
“Well um, thank you for that.” Steve nods awkwardly, watching over his shoulder as his grandmother waddled away back to her friends. “You didn’t have to come though, sorry if she twisted your arm about it, she’s stubborn.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with a small chuckle.
“It’s okay I really don’t mind.” Eddie smiled easily, inching his way into the house and Steve’s personal space. “Smoking weed with a bunch of old ladies and gossiping about my new neighbours sounds like a great way for me to spend my Sunday.” He winked.
“I- yeah it is pretty fun.” Steve agreed having not moved at all. “The snacks are always great too, you’ll have to try Betty’s blondie cake it’s always my favourite.” Steve leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.
Eddie beamed back at him, eyes roving all over Steve’s face before pausing at his lips for a second then darting back up to his eyes. “Lead the way then big boy.” Eddie bit his lip at how red Steve’s face got, he decided to push it slipping his hand into Steve’s.
“Yeah- uh sure yeah.” Steve nodded dumbly staring at their connected hands for a moment before snapping out of it and tugging Eddie along. “Everything is set up in the living room, I just got the fire going to so it should be warm.”
By the end of the night Eddie and Steve were melted into one another on a small single seater in the corner of the room. They watched as all the ladies gathered their coats one by one as their husbands came to collect them.
“It’s sweet.” Steve sighed unprompted, his head lolled against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie made a questioning noise so he continued. “Seeing their husbands come walk them back home at the end of the night. They aren’t annoyed that their wives are giggly and a bit wobbly they are just happy they are happy and want to be there to take care of them.”
“You are a sappy stoner Steve.” Eddie teased, he moved his hand over and dropped it onto Steve’s thigh giving it a squeeze. “Can’t say I blame you though, it is very cute to see.” Eddie sighed before unsticking himself from Steve’s side and making his way to the door himself. “I better get going, no husband to come walk me home”. He blushed at the implication of his own words.
“I’ll be your husband.” Steve blurted then immediately turned red. “I mean- I meant that I uhum-“
“You can walk me home Steve.” Eddie smiled wide and teasingly. He looked his arm through Steve’s and tugged him through the door, waving goodbye to Mrs.Harrington with a promise to be back next week.
The walk was short considering Eddie was only 2 houses down and one across. They kept their arms looped the entire 3 minutes they walked, and once they reached the door Steve still hadn’t let go.
“Well goodnight.” Steve spoke first, ducking his head away. He took a deep breath then looked back to Eddie determination on his face when he spoke. “See you next week?”
Eddie smiled but shook his head, “I was hoping sooner, how does Wednesday sound?” He moved in closer his hand sliding down to Steve’s waist.
“Wednesday is great I love Wednesday.” Steve nodded frantically then cringed. “I mean I don’t actually love all Wednesday’s just this one because we are-“
Eddie cut his rambling off with a kiss. He leaned in and connected their lips, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.
Steve melted into the kiss, his body going lax in Eddie’s hold, “Thanks for saving me from embarrassing myself further.”
“Anytime sweetheart.”
#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#stranger things ships#steve x eddie#stranger things#stranger things one shot#meet cute#strangers to lovers#flustered steve Harrington#eddie munson has peircings and tattoos#eddie munson knows how to flirt#confident eddie munson#gay steve harrington#steve harrington pov#handy eddie munson#gay eddie munson
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Name
✨Stellar the Hedgehog✨
Age
Varies based on what age I draw her, but let's say 16!
Pronouns
She/Her
Basic Description
The product of Project Stellar—a secret government operation aiming to perfect Project Shadow—Stellar is a genetic experiment combining the DNA of the Ultimate Life Form and the fastest thing alive. Designed to be a living weapon, Stellar was born in a hidden facility where she would have been raised to be an unstoppable weapon for the military. Thankfully, Shadow the Hedgehog (with help from Rouge the Bat) discovered her existence, destroyed the lab, and rescued her as an infant. Shadow then went on to begrudgingly inform his long-time rival, Sonic the Hedgehog, of their newfound child, seeing as she was technically just as much Sonic's problem as she was Shadow's. From there, the duo (along with help from their friends) raised Stellar as their daughter, sheltering her from the knowledge she was created to be a force of destruction for her masters. Along the way, Sonic and Shadow found themselves truly falling for one another, dissolving the barriers they had placed between one another as rivals, finding new appreciation for each other in their new parental roles.
Stellar herself is a bright, warm-hearted person. She has a strong sense of justice and never shies away from standing up for what is right. She takes after Sonic in personality, always cracking jokes and finding it hard to sit still. Despite this, she inherited Shadow's finesse and ability to plan out her choices, not to mention his abilities to utilize chaos energy. She has a love for figure skating, ballet, and make up (thanks to Auntie Rouge!), but don't let her feminine side fool you, she is not afraid to get her hands dirty! She would love nothing more than to spend her day smashing badniks into the ground with her skates if her dads would let her! Stellar loves both of her parents dearly, but sometimes wishes that they wouldn't be so protective of her. After all, what could they possibly have to be worried about?
Extra
✨Stellar's favorite color is red.
✨Her favorite food is chili dogs.
✨She is bisexual.
✨Her favorite flower is lavender, because it reminds her of home!
✨She learned how to skate from Shadow.
✨She calls Shadow "papa" and Sonic "dad".
✨She desperately wants to make her family and friends proud.
✨Her best friend is Camellia the Cat, the daughter of Blaze and Amy.
✨She loves racing Sonic, but is frustrated he always lets her win.
✨She can be VERY impulsive when angered, much like both of her parents!
✨She is SUPER dense when it comes to romance. She has no idea ✨Camellia has been in love with her since they were little!
✨The inhibitor rings she wears keep her powers under control, but they also prevent her from truly mastering them.
✨Her powers are designed after collapsing stars/black holes. Extremely destructive to both herself and everything around her.
✨She has no awareness to the extent of the latent power inside her.
#my art#sonadow#shadonic#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#shadow#sonic#stellar the hedgehog#fan kid#fan child#sonic oc#character ref#sonic prime#sonic art#sth#sonic fandom#sonic x shadow#shadow x sonic#sonic x shadow generations#sa2#fankid au
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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)
Summary: During the mission somewhere in Austria, König takes an interest in TF 141 medic. Little did he know, she's Lieutenants Riley's girlfriend.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐
A/N: Possessive/Protective boyfriend Ghost? Yes, double and give to the next person.
Also inserted Hank/Connor "lieutenant" reference, I just find it funny.
Y/C ━ Your Codename (have fun, pick something babes)
Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!
Warnings: nothing, reader is eastern european coded (we deserve more recognition as reader inserts ꃋᴖꃋ )
Word count: 1.8k
The tree line of the thick forest melted into the base of the rocky mountains. Your gaze traveled across its pointy shapes and up higher - there hadn’t been a single cloud on the sky that day, causing a slight heatwave.
You let your body slightly wag as the car passed over surface bumps on the earthen road. The dry lump grew in your throat as the dust hovered all over the convoy and all you could think of was a sip of cold, mineral water.
Soon, you reached the small town in Austria, secluded from the ring roads. The cars were parked near the surrounding forest at the entrance of the village. Lieutenant Riley's sight crossed with yours as he helped you get out of the truck.
He could be such a gentleman sometimes.
A handful of soldiers gathered near the vehicles - some of them wearing a KorTac patch on their shoulders, the other ones (from your unit) a Task Force 141 badge. But besides those sigils, none of them were wearing full battle gear.
There was no active fighting against the enemy at the moment. It was just a careful chase after the terrorists - following their footsteps, interviewing associates, gathering proof. Because at the end of the day, the military (or army related organization) cannot shed blood over a defamation.
But KorTac and TF 141? Quite an unusual partnership between the two groups, right?
━ Ghost, Y/C you’re goin’ with me ━ Captain Price announced, adjusting his hat as he closed the car’s doors behind him. ━ Gaz, you’ll stay here, is that clear?
Captain heard a firm ‘yes, sir’ from your teammate Kyle who was to stay at the parking spot. Meanwhile the KorTac colonel gave an order to his soldiers in German. “Such a tough language” you thought to yourself. Only two of his people went along the wood road with the rest of you.
The Colonel.
Exceptionally tall, Austrian man who served many years for his country. The one you found yourself in on the latest mission.
Each time you wanted to look at him while Colonel König was speaking, you had to chin up. And even though, a black hood with a red paint on it covered his whole face besides his cold, blue eyes. He was lowkey intimidating with his massive size, but just like your captain, the Austrian’s rough looks didn’t reflect his character. At least to you and your comrades he was quite nice.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same about his teammates.
You didn’t have to walk for long as the isolated, one floor house emerged behind a hill. By the quick peek at that building and the noises coming from the inside you knew, it felt like a warm home.
As you approached the building, you heard a child’s cry.
Price knocked at the front door and soon after a man with dark bags under his eyes opened them slightly. He was peeking through the crack.
━ Jakob Hausner? ━ The Captain asked with a playful smile under his mustache, his thumbs interlocked with the gear straps over his chest.
━ Ja, wie kann ich helfen? [ger.: Yes, how can I help?]
━ Can you ask him if he speaks english? ━ John looked over his shoulder towards König, asking for a favor.
━ Yes, I speak english ━ master of the house answered with a thick accent, before colonel could translate. ━ What do you want?
He wasn’t trusting at all, well, how could he? You were all strangers at his doorsteps, two of your partners wearing scary looking masks. But it all had a purpose - they were supposed to look… intimidating, yes?
A loud wailing made their ears hurt, it was that damn baby again. Jakob sighed loudly, his shoulder collapsing as he opened the doors a little bit more.
━ We just want to talk about the company you were working for. ━ Price continued talking.
━ About them again? ━ Mr. Hausner frowned his eyebrows and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Poor man was exhausted apparently. ━ Okay, okay, ja, come in.
The man let you all inside, however König told his soldiers to have a look outside the plot - to make sure it’s safe here and you’re not being watched. Poor Jakob wasn’t even fully aware (because of his state) that he let in a group of military people inside of his home.
As soon as you crossed the hallway into the dining room with a big, wooden table, you noticed a struggling toddler in a children’s chair. The girl was crying, her face red from the tantrum.
━ I’m sorry, it’s just my daughter, she… she doesn’t want to eat her–. Lina, bitte. [ger.: Lina, please.]
Being a parent. Must be tough, huh?
Not when you were forced to babysit your siblings or cousins since you were a teenager.
━ She’s not hungry. ━ You noticed the way the little girl pushed her plate away and how she tried to climb out of the seat. Christ, that man really had to be exhausted. ━ Can I?
You took a few slow and calm steps towards the sitting child - a warm smile painted over your face. Even your boyfriend Ghost was slightly… surprised? Seeing you drop the apathetic shell, then becoming more warm and gentle towards the little girl.
━ She’s our medic ━ your Captain explained to the worried father ━ let her take the kid and we’ll have a talk. In peace.
Mr. Hausner let you take care of his unsettled daughter, so they could have a conversation about his former employers. You took the girl out of her chair and placed her over your left hip, pushing it outward.
━ Come, Lina ━ you addressed the girl by her name, even though she probably couldn’t understand what you were saying ━ let’s leave the stinky men alone, ja?
You left the dining room and entered the seemingly endless garden behind the house. Since you took that girl in your hands she already began to calm down, perhaps a woman's touch was all she needed?
“Where was your mother? Was she at work working a long shift? Did something happen to her? Did the bad men–” your thoughts seemed to take a rather pessimistic route, so you had to quickly change it.
You didn’t know much German. Well, you didn’t know any at all.
Fuck.
But at that moment you were thanking the heavens that your father watched movies about Hans Kloss or war on a regular basis. You were happy that your father was taught some phrases and somewhere in your subconsciousness he passed them to you.
You sat on the wooden bench somewhere in the garden not far from the building. Then, you placed the child on your lap and began talking to her - mostly in your mother tongue. Then you added some words in German that you knew, like:
━ Schau, schmetterling! [ger.: Look, a butterfly!]
Soon you grew more comfortable around the girl named Lina, even though there was a language barrier. Without your knowledge, your legs began to bounce her, pretending she was riding a horse.
If anyone would point that out later, you would certainly deny it. You, getting soft for a child? No, no, no.
You were so occupied with entertaining her that you didn’t even notice a looming, black figure in the corner of your eye. Watching the scene from somewhere nearby.
König was standing just next to the doors, leaving against the white plaster on the outside walls. He listened to your attempts to speak German, finding it… adorable?
Never did he meet a woman in his profession so empathetic and gentle. Especially the one who managed to catch his attention. Let’s be honest, most of them were cold blood murderers and he was a colonel - he couldn’t let himself have such a luxury of having a family.
Until now.
His imagination began to play a nasty and stupid trick on him - just because he saw you speaking German with a kid. What if it was you to take care of his children? Were your hands usually this delicate? Would you care for him as much?
The tall soldier was intrigued by you and his dreamy stare exposed him for it.
━ Don’t even think about it. ━ Ghost voice snapped him back to the reality. The British soldier emerged from the building the same way the colonel did after the conversation came to an end with Mr. Hausner.
Simon Riley wasn’t a fool. He noticed all the little peaks at his girlfriend other soldiers usually would take, she was in fact a pretty thing. So it didn’t take much to notice that the tall guy from KorTac took a liking of you. Too much liking in Ghost’s opinion.
━ Verzeihung [ger.: Excuse me] ━ König apologized, flustered slightly by obviousness of the situation. He instantly understood the reference. ━ didn’t know she was… taken.
━ Yeah ━ British lieutenant scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark irises didn’t even dare to stare at him. His eyes were on you ━ she’s very much taken.
There was a dead silence between the two of them - for a short moment, before Ghost gave you a heads up.
━ Y/C, we’re moving.
The rough and firm tone of Ghost’s voice made you snap back into reality. You were in the middle of something, right? Yet, you almost jumped on that little bench painted in floral patterns.
━ Coming, lieutenant. ━ You declared quickly, before putting the little girl over your hip again and heading inside of her home.
Ghost was a few steps ahead and so you had to pass the massive figure of König to go inside again. You pressed the child’s head into your cleavage as she was a little scared of colonel’s hood.
Well, you would be too, if you saw his cold stare in the middle of the night from under that veil, right?
━ Don’t worry, he just looks scary. He won’t bite. Isn’t that right, sir? ━ You sent him a polite smile as you tried to comfort the petrified girl. Your hand caressing her golden locks.
But he was speechless at the moment. He couldn’t form a simple sentence. A fucking grown ass man. “So fucking pathetic”, he thought to himself. Your lips twisting into a wide smile for him. It wouldn’t be easy for him to erase that sight from his memory. König would have trouble falling asleep that night, thinking of you.
A/N: ♪ Two big guys and they grab on my thighs ♪
#reader insert#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost mw2#konig#konig mw2#konig cod#könig#könig cod#könig mw2#könig x reader#konig x reader
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“When he was born I took him see his grandfather. I brought him to the construction site where he worked, so they could meet. But my dad didn’t even make an effort. It was the same thing I remembered from my childhood. Never once do I remember: ‘Oh, let’s go to the water park.’ He’d spend all his money on friends and girls. And when he did come home he was always screaming, always hitting. For every little thing: if we didn’t brush our teeth, if we didn’t help out enough around the house. He treated my mom bad too. I tried to stop it. When I got older people would have to physically separate us. The anger is in me too. It comes from the inside. I’ll start to get mad, and suddenly it’s all over me. But whenever that starts to happen, I think: ‘I’m not going to be him. I’m not going to be him.’ I’ll walk away and calm down. Then I’ll come back and apologize. I’ll say: ‘What you did was wrong. But it was also wrong for me to speak that way. And I promise not to be like that again.’ I try to show him respect. Even though he’s a kid, he deserves the same respect as any person, even more, actually. Because an old person knows what’s going on, and he doesn’t. I always say goodnight with a kiss. And I just try to be as patient as I can. Always, always, always. I can read the way he is. Like, he doesn’t need to tell me if something is bothering him. Because I can see it in his face. He’s a super kind boy. I haven’t noticed any anger in him at all. Not at all. Sometimes I worry, that I need to push him a little harder to be tougher. Because he’s just so kind, I mean, look at him. Look at him.”
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Polluted
Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.
A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)
Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer
Word count: 1.9K
Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.
You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.
Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.
"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."
His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.
You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.
"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"
You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.
One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.
"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"
His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.
"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."
You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.
"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"
You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.
You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.
"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."
Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.
"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."
You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.
"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"
Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.
"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.
Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.
"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom.
You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler
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