#so it probably saved some trouble just moving on

[luna0713hunter]

Suguru is a great cook.

You knew your boyfriend was capable of cooking just fine;after all,he survived all his days alongside Gojo,and didn't die from eating only sweets and junk. You'd even heard Shoko mention it offhandedly once.

"Suguru's alright i guess," she had said as she took a long drag of her cigarette, "i think he's improving too. But again, compared to that other idiot, anyone's a great cook."

And that was it. And although you guys have been going out for some time now, it had never crossed your mind to ask your boyfriend to cook for you. And even though you knew Suguru's good at everything he does,you never even guessed he'll be this good.

So he when one night,after a particularly rough mission which has your body sore,and a pained hiss escaping your lips everytime you make a sudden move,you find yourself being carried inside Suguru's small apartment. And if you were in your right mind;and not high on the painkillers Shoko had given you,you would've gotten slightly flustered,just like you always do when you go to his house.

But you're not in your right mind,and your body screams in pain when he settles you gently on the couch;pulling the comforter up your shoulders. Suguru rests his hands on his hips,and upon a full glance at you,he lets out a heavy sigh.

He looks worried; guilty that he wasn't there to help you.

"honey," you call weakly, fidgeting with the loose strand of the comforter and trying for a faint smile, "I'm alright. Please don't make that face."

Sugura sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"you know i hate it when you get hurt."

"but you saved me, didn't you?"

And by the way he clenches his jaw,you know what he's thinking.

I was late.

"hey," you call out with a smile;eyes softening upon seeing his troubled face, "how about you cook me dinner then?"

Because that's how Suguru Geto is;caring and protective. His love is like a gentle river; soothing and calm. And you know if you dont let him do something for you tonight,he might as well forget all about sleeping for a few nights.

So you shift, trying to hide your wince and give him a sweet smile.

"i want dessert too!"

At that,Suguru finally chuckles and nods his head;his face has relaxed slightly and his eyes look calmer.

"alright, darling," he leans foward to fix the blanket around your shoulders; dropping a loving kiss to your forehead, "whatever my baby wants."

So you get comfortable while Suguru busies himself in the kitchen. The TV is showing some kind of competition show,and after half an hour, you find yourself dozing off; probably the painkillers Shoko had given you were starting to kick in. And between the gentle humming of your boyfriend,and the way his scent engulfs you,your eyelids become heavier and your breath starts to even out

You don't know how much time has passed,but you flutter your eyes open,and watch Suguru brushing your hair out of your eyes with a gentle smile. His hair is out of his usual bun,and he looks so soft in his simple white t-shirts and sweatpants. Still dazed from sleep,you reach out and brush your fingers against his high cheekbones.

"hey pretty," his voice is soothing, gentle;as if he's afraid to startle you awake, "dinner's ready."

And when he sits down next to you, holding the spoon out in front of your mouth,you dont bother to keep your eyes open anymore.

That is,until you taste his cooking on your tongue.

Immediately,your eyes snap open,and you whip your head in his direction with blown out eyes.

"you," you swallow your bite and hold your hand in front of your mouth, "you made this?"

It must be the surprised look on face that has Suguru laughing;his eyes crinkling happily.

"that good?"

"its fucking amazing!what do you mean, 'good'?"

You open your mouth eagerly when he feeds you another spoonful,and close your eyes with a loud moan.

"oh my gosh!why have i been missing out on this?!" You give him a teasing glare, "bet you cooked alot for your boyfriend."

"first of all,dont call satoru that;it creeps the hell out me," he lightly nudges your shoulder with his;his smile the softest thing ," second of all,you never asked."

"i never knew you could cook!"

"so," he raises a brow, "you automatically thought I'm a horrible cook?"

"well,i mean,Satoru can't."

Suguru lets out a loud laugh at that.

"that's because he cant cook for the life of his. Besides,he thinks he can live longer with just sugar." He raises the spoon again,and when you giggle,he leans and kisses your full cheek, "but if you like it that much,then I'll be happy to always cook for you."

You stare at Suguru's dark eyes;his young face and sweet smile. The TV is showing some kind of commercial in the background, your body isnt hurting as much as before,and your belly is full of homemade meal. The heat coming off your boyfriend is enough to make your eyes flutter,and a happy smile settles on your lips.

You let out a content sigh,and rest your head on Suguru's shoulder.

"I'll take you up on that offer then."

And as you begin to doze off,you feel his lips pressing gently to the top of your head.

"with pleasure, princess."

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

A/n : canon world?i dunno what you're talking about <(￣︶￣)> Suguru's living healthy and happy with the people he loves and he teaches at jujutsu high with Satoru ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

[jesterofcringe]

I can't take it anymore- Is that an exit door? [Liminal space au] Natalie x Reader

this follows the rules of the backrooms except i have no idea how the backrooms work and didnt feel like writing the entities so its liminal spaces instead :3 i love writing cringe can you tell also people who sent in requests im working on em now they'll be out soon 😋👍 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

★It all started because you were messing around with Natalie and it, once again, got you two in trouble.

★It started with a shove, which turned into a couple of light punches, which turned into a whole play fight. 

★Natalie pushed you hard enough to knock you over, and in trying to save yourself you instinctively grabbed her shirt and the both of you went crashing into the wall.

★Except you didn’t.

★The two of you fell for far too long, as if the wall was never there. Finally, you landed with a splash, your entire body submerged in water.

★You had crashed into a wall, and now you were submerged in water. Because that totally made sense.

★In a panic you scrambled to your feet, rubbing the water out of your eyes. When you opened them, you saw you were in a subway system, water flooded up to your knees.

★Everything got more confusing the more you made an effort to understand what was going on.

★Natalie’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm, “Are… are you seeing this too??”

★“Yeah…” You nodded slow “…I think so.”

★“Subway station, balls deep with water?”

★“Mhm.”

★“Could we like, be hallucinating the same thing?”

★You kicked up the water, splashing her, “Would we be able to feel a hallucination?”

★A heavy silence blanketed the two of you as you shivered and tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

★“Fuck.”

★Natalie started to walk away from you, and you instantly followed after her.

★“Where are you going?”

★“It’s freezing. Hallucination or not we can’t just stay here.”

★She reached back and offered you a hand, which you took in one of your own. Somehow, her fingers were colder than the water.

★Ever since then, nothing really made sense anymore. 

★At the end of the subway there was a door. A door with a faint glow around it. That was the only thing that stayed consistent. A door was always there and it always brought you somewhere new, no matter how different than the last. After the subway station it was a movie theater. Following that was a shopping mall, and an empty parking lot after that one. The doors brought you just about anywhere. You had seen more Walmarts than you cared to admit.

★That wasn’t even the weirdest part. No matter where you were, there was absolutely never any people. Entire amusement parks, attractions moving and all, completely abandoned by human life... Did humanity vanish, or did you?

★“Do you think the rest of the yellowjackets are looking for us?

★It was a random ass question. The last door you guys passed through led you into a gas station and the two of you were in the middle of stuffing a backpack you found with as much resources as you could. Despite thinking Natalie's question was somewhat out of the blue, you couldn't deny the fact that you had been thinking about the same thing.

★“I hope so.”

★ She tossed you a pair of flashlights and a candy bar, “What do you think they’re saying about us?”

★“Probably think we ran away and got married in secret.” You shrugged as you attempted to stuff some bubble gum in the front pocket.

★“At this point we may as well," She ripped open a bag of fruit gummies and offered you some, which you politely declined, "It’s not like we’re ever gonna get out of here.”

★You didn't appreciate the implications of never finding your way out, but you didn't mind the idea of becoming somewhat romantic with Natalie, even if it was due to the fact you two seemed to be likely to die together whether you were romantic or not.

★It was hard to keep track of the days. If you had to guess, it had been a few months. It felt a lot longer than that, though. Time was sort of distorted, although the first few weeks you were obsessed with trying to track how long the two of you had been trapped. Natalie was able to tell the whole concept of time was starting to drive you a bit mad, and the next time the doors brought you some place high up she chucked her watch as far as she could so you would stop staring at it.

★"What the hell Natalie! We needed that!"

★"Knowing the time isn't going to get us out of here! You staying sane, will!"

★You had to really get lucky with the places you ended up. Sometimes you went without food for weeks, sometimes you ended up in places with enough resources to provide for the next eighty years. You never stayed even though you knew you should. You were absolutely desperate to get out. Natalie on the other hand, came to terms with the whole thing surprisingly quick. She was very level headed, her calmness rubbing off on you whenever you started to work yourself up.

★“You’re delusional dude, you need sleep.”

★“I don’t wanna sleep, we need to keep going.”

★“We can keep going tomorrow.”

★“But-“

★“We. Can. Keep. Going. Tomorrow.”

★There was a time you ended up in an elementary school when the both of you were exhausted. You were both too tired to realize you had been walking through the same place every time you found the door. When you eventually did realize it after the third time, Natalie said fuck It, and you ended up spooning on the couch in the front lobby of the school.

★[The next morning the door you passed through led you to a mattress store. You didn’t know who you wanted to kill more, the doors or Natalie. The cuddles were pretty nice though, so you couldn’t stay mad at her.]

[radicalrobotz]

actually why is the new fop cartoon animated like the ppg special from 2014

[kvnis]

Obsessed with ur work ohmygod

May i request :)

How about your bf scara saves u from bullies and when u two get home he fucks the hell out of u to make u feel better about the bullies 🤭🤭

౨ৎ ﹒i love you , don’t believe me ?

── ୨୧：sub!reader x dom!scaramouche

୨୧﹑ synopsis :; you’re so fixated on the mindset of scaramouche not loving you, all because of some insignificant bullies? fine then, let him prove that he loves you.

୨୧﹑ genre :; smut, nsfw

୨୧﹑ cw :; fem!reader, established relationship, creampie, marking/biting, fingering, hair pulling, not proofread.

﹒notes ! ⸜⸜ hihi , i’ve not had a lot of motivation recently, but i managed to finish this after days and hours of procrastination!

you were currently walking back to your house, hand in hand with scaramouche. there were slight tears in your eyes that slowly cascaded down your cheeks in minimal amounts. you looked at the back of his head, admiring the way his hair swayed in the wind.

he squeezes your hand, pulling you more to his side and you almost stumble over your own two feet. you huff, keeping up with his pace.

your mind keeps glancing back to the situation just a couple hours before. you had practically been cornered up against a wall, having no way to escape whilst you practically got berated for no reason. you only managed to get away once scaramouche intervened, yet he couldn’t have prevent their thoughts from infecting your mind.

were you really not up to scaramouche’s tastes? did he even like you? you couldn’t help but frown, his cold nature made everything seem unreadable to you, so you couldn’t decipher the truth from the lies.

you didn’t even realise you were physically frowning until you felt a pinch on your cheek.

“what’s that face for?” scaramouche asks you, clearly referring to your gloomy expression.

you shake your head in dismissal, shrugging him off and saying that everything was fine. he just leaves the topic with an unenthusiastic ‘tch’.

you both eventually arrive at your home, and you unlock the door shakily before walking in. a sigh escapes your slightly parted lips, and you make a move to return to your room.

scaramouche knew how this went; you’d go up to your room, ignore anything and everything and just sleep your troubles away. so, before you even left his range, his arm darted out to grab you by the waist, guiding you down to the couch.

“talk.” he looks at you bluntly, clearly knowing that something was up. he was too observant, and that was probably the only thing you detested about him.

you fidgeted with your sleeves, before deciding to just come clean. “some of the… things they said… i’m starting to question whether they were true or not.”

scaramouche tilts his head at you, observing every little motion you made. he wasn’t missing any details. “what type of things were they saying?”

“they were saying things like… like how you wouldn’t like someone like me…” your face begins to drop to the ground, before scaramouche almost lovingly grabs your jaw, shifting closer to you and easing you down onto the couch with his body.

he shakes his head, his free hand going to your waist and squeezing roughly. he looks at you with disbelief. “and you were stupid enough to believe them?”

you face contorts into a frown, slightly embarrassed. you were so easily manipulated by your peers, and it made scaramouche tease you relentlessly. however, this time, he seemed quite comforting about it.

he chuckles under his breath at your reaction, kissing your forehead and cheek, before trailing down to press his lips against yours.

it was quick and hard to realise it had even happened. if you blinked, you would’ve probably missed it.

“you’re so naive… so gullible,” his hands move to the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping into the band of your underwear while he’s at it. “do you really need me to show you how much i love you?”

you stiffen slightly as he tugs your bottoms down with one swift go, and you’re shocked at the urgency of his advances. you writhed slightly, feeling him already run his fingers over your clothed folds. you were getting wetter by the minute, your slick almost soaking through the fabric entirely. it immediately makes your face flare up with even more embarrassment.

he begins to kiss down your neck, occasionally licking, just to gauge your reaction. every time he does, you flinch belatedly, almost like your brain was taking twice the time to process all the stimulation.

his fingers eagerly pull your panties off and to the side, only to impatiently shove two fingers inside your dripping hole. you almost instantaneously clench around him, biting your lip as a soft moan escapes you.

“i don’t love you… hm?” his breath brushes the shell of your ear, lips barely grazing the nerves. you felt as if you were on fire as he began to make a scissoring motion with his fingers, stretching out your hole for him. “then, what’s this i’m doing…?”

your breathing staggers, feeling the cold drag of his digits inside of you. you whimper as a response, too timid to say anything in reply.

as his fingers work inside of you, scaramouche begins to palm his growing erection. he was growing hard, simply by hearing your soft moans, whimpers and the amount of slick now coating his fingers. he pulls them out, watching a string connecting the tips of his fingers to your hole stretch out before breaking.

your hips jerk up as his clothed cock grinds up against your sopping pussy, desperately chasing the hot friction. you closely watch him with half lidded eyes as he slips off his pants, revealing his length for you. you were now hyperaware of everything around you, feeling the way he breathed against your neck, the way his hands burned their imprint into your thighs as he spread them. it sent your mind into overdrive, overcoming your senses and making you want more of him.

he rests his hands on your hips, slowly pushing his entire length into you. his lips press against yours, silencing your cries as he bottoms out. the feeling of your cunt immediately clenching down on him so needily almost makes him cum on the spot.

his hips languidly pulls his length out of you, until only the tip is splitting you open, before pressing back inside. he admires the sounds you make, the soft, panting breath escaping against his lips. the subtle way your thighs twitch around his waist makes him chuckle out breathily, the warmth fanning against your face.

his pace eventually speeds up, turning from slow grinds into deliberate slams, evidently making you moan out, each and every single time. he always knew the ways in how to turn you limp below him, the ways to make you crumble weakly with each of his thrusts.

a hand rests on the side of your neck, tilting your head with his thumb to make you look at him in the eyes. you eyes are slightly glassy, and when you blink a fresh tear rolls down your temple. his thumb immediately brushes it away, giving you a soothing kiss on the cheek.

“don’t cry, why are you crying?” he lets out an amusing exhale, watching you open your mouth to speak, but only sounds of pleasure coming out. “i love you, you know? dunno how you’re so stupid to think otherwise...”

his words of affection makes heat swell in your gut, and he takes note on the way your hole clenches and unclenches around him. his eyes teasingly narrow at you, glancing down to observe the state of your folds.

you look down alongside him, but you don’t stare for long as your flustered from how wet you are, the lewd sounds reaching your ears. however, you couldn’t deny the way it turned you on. it was awfully shameful, yet you didn’t have to look twice at scaramouche for him to know exactly what was going through your mind. he knew you too well for that.

his thrusts grow harder, faster, deeper, until your body is twitching and begging for release. he was hitting just the right spots inside of you, making your eyes roll and your fists tighten into his hair. you writhe, feeling an approaching orgasm. it’s almost laughable, how he was able to reduce you to such a sight with minimal effort.

he drags his lips along your skin, letting himself take indulgence in the unmarked skin of your shoulder. he eyes you, taking a fold of skin into his mouth and sucking up multiple marks, until your whole shoulder was his own personal canvas, blooming in beautiful marks of red and purple.

you gasp, head getting thrown back at the added sensations. your eyes flutter closed, a loud whine escaping your mouth as you approach your peak. your hands bunch up and tug at his hair, grasping for anything to keep you composed.

your mind goes numb, riddled with pleasure as you came, gushing all around his cock and coating it in another layer of your slick. a proud smirk reaches scaramouches face as he watches your cunt suck him in impossibly deeper while you orgasmed. he shallowly fucked you through it, giving you time to compose yourself before pulling you closer, pressing his hips flush to yours.

he continued his movements against you, letting his lips brush against yours ever so often. a moan exits your slightly parted lips as you gasp for air, sucking your teeth as he brings back the roughness in his thrusts, not caring that you just came. he was determined to make you cum as many times as possible in one night.

“pfft, ‘i don’t love you’, huh?” he scoffs, looking into your watery eyes with his own lust-stricken ones. “how could you think that shit when i make you cum like this?”

you look at him with a pout, before replying to him with a simple hum. all doubts in your mind have been thoroughly removed, and the only thing in your mind was how good he was making you feel right now.

you whip your head to the right, letting his lips gain comfort in the crook of your neck. his tongue swirls its imprint into your flesh, occasionally sucking just to throw you off guard. every time he does you writhe, making his grip on your thighs tighten.

he pushes one of your thighs up to your chest, bending it and manipulating it to throw it over his shoulder, enabling him to thrust his cock deeper into your sensitivity. your noises gradually increase in pitch, and it’s not long before your cumming around his length again. your body flushed numbly, twitching as the crest of your pleasure washes over you. your head lolls limply, and you try to catch your breath as he groans in your ear. the noise did not help with your arousal right now.

you were exhausted, and you firmly believe you can’t go another round. your legs were trembling in his grip as you looked at him with pleading, heavy lids.

“don’t worry, ‘m almost done…” scaramouche mutters into your ear, breathing heavily as he twitches inside of you, feeling his impending orgasm. his bangs were sticking to his forehead, and he uses your neck to latch onto in order to cover up—what he viewed to be embarrassing—his noises.

he moans into your flesh, before the rhythm of his hips falters and he releases inside of you, filling your walls with his sticky cum. you feel the warmth spill inside of you, your wettened lashes glancing over to his face, which he lifted from your neck with an exhale. you could see the flush on his cheeks and the slight sweat on his skin.

his eyes lock onto yours, and he gives you a smirk. he doesn’t pull out; instead, he lifts you by the waist and sits back on the couch, making you straddle him.

he firmly grips your cheeks, not letting you slack out on your shared eye contact. he searches your eyes, sifting through every shred of emotion shown through your pupils. he pulls you down so your lips just barely brushed, before speaking.

“still think i don’t love you?” he looks you up and down, taking in your spend form. he felt a mix of his cum and yours leaking out of your hole, tightening his grip on your cheeks at the feeling. you wince and end up shaking your head.

“n-no…” you meekly admit, thighs trembling around his lap. “it’s just—”

“forget about them.” he snaps quickly, using his free hand to guide your hips up his length, before slamming your body down. you moan out, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your head face downward, hair falling to cover your face. he brushes your hair out of your face, roughly squeezing your cheeks. “‘cause i’m not done yet. gonna fuck that brain of yours silly…”

©2024 kvnis do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my works.

[julietsbody]

lace garters

words : 3,903

tags : 18+!!! mdni! escorts , sex work , reader ! sex worker , vaginal sex , finger fucking , finger sucking , porn with feelings , brothels , oral sex , save a horse ride a whattt

p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!! ( divider by siren4u & gif by drewstarkrs )

billy was a virgin, surprisingly, he didn’t have time for a girlfriend, and the quick fucks from the escorts never enticed him much. many offered, when he would stop quick at towns for a simple beer or to take care of things— he would typically get stopped by the escorts dressed in their gorgeous silks, tight corsets, and sleeves that fall off their shoulders so easily it has your fingers itching with desire to fix it. it would make even the most sane man turn mad, and somehow billy never allowed himself to fall for it. 

not until now, an escort stops him before he walks in a bar, “how old are you, dear?” 

“19, ‘bout to turn 20,” his voice is smooth and sweet, southern drawl sweeping out with ease. 

the girl hums out, tipping out of the way to allow his eyes to another girl standing far behind her, you, “you’re too young for me, dear, you should talk to her. she can show you a good time.”

typically billy would say no, offer a few coins for their efforts and simply walk into the bar like nobody had offered. but something was different when his eyes fell on you, you weren’t like the other escorts, quick to talk to the men and get some money for the events that take within the confines of the motel walls. you were rather looking off in the distance, your position more reserved rather than comfortable. it had him wanting to know more. 

to be fair, billy was bored these days, all he did was travel and go from town to town, never leaving a mark on those behind. other than his wanted posters, which by the way, had an awful drawing on it. how the hell was he ever supposed to get a girlfriend with drawings like that made about him? each step is slow, calculated, as he moves over to you. he notices that mid way, your attention seems forced away from him. 

are you afraid of him? he tips his head in your peripheral, easily looming over you, “darling.” 

your eyes snap to him almost immediately, widening as if you didn’t think it would truly be him, yet you mumble out a, “honey.” 

“lady over there told me to talk to you,” his head tips up, blue eyes piercing into you, even through the deepest of the night. 

“i don’t want trouble,” you finally turn to him, the smell of musk and gunsmoke filling your nose as he bites through the toothpick in his mouth, “i hear you’re wanted.” 

“wanted, but not trouble,” he corrects, smirk tugging at his right lip, “you don’t gotta tell anyone.” 

“wasn’t plannin’ on it,” your voice is so sweet, it nearly has him doubling over. you’re teasing him, clearly, but billy has never backed down to a challenge once in his life, he can bet on that. 

his eyebrow twitches upright slightly, “how much for thirty minutes, beautiful?” 

“you can satisfy me in thirty minutes?” you tease, smile widening at your own joke. 

his head cocks to the side, and he can’t help the way he licks his lips, cockiness coursing through his veins, “i probably could in ten.” 

you can’t help the way your flesh feels like rubber over molten, cheeks flaring to a new maroon that you hadn’t expected. your eyes dare to match his, the lust unsheathed in the teal of his eyes, “thirty will be just a few coins.” 

his hand moves to your jaw, tipping your head up further to look at him with ease, now you have no choice of looking away, “you don’t think i can in ten?” 

“i doubt it,” your skin is hot underneath his touch, despite your bold demeanor. 

“we’ll see.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the motel carried the same smell as it always did, the mix of mustiness, smoke from cigars, and whiskey. billy’s gut churned as you led him to the room that you always rented, surely, he was cocky at first— then he began to worry if he would even be good enough. he was a virgin, after all, and he’s sure you’d been with mostly experienced men. he doesn’t say anything once the door opens, seemingly every worry dissipates as you look back at him with a different look, your lashes flutter over your eyes with ease, the look is more seductive, siren like. 

if you were a siren, consider him the sailors in those tales, lost in the tides and addicted to the song that oozed out your vocals.

he allows you to guide him to the bed, sitting him down on the thin, firm mattress with your hands lingering on his shoulders, “what would you like me to do?” 

“i’d like for you,” he trails off, eyes tracing down your body, “to get on your knees.”

your hands leave his shoulders as you ever so slowly kneel down, every movement is well thought out, calculated, your body flowing in the most seductive ways. despite your lowered body, your eyes still remained up at him, the sudden doe look in your eyes making his legs spread ever so slightly. his hand is gentle when it touches your cheek again, pinky lining underneath your jawline as his thumb threatens against your lips. 

it’s dangerous, the way you look at him, like your gun is being drawn to him with your finger teasing the trigger. 

“and?” you add, his thumb teasing your now open lips. he tried not to flinch when your mouth encased his thumb, the warmth wetness of your mouth enveloping the skin. he finds himself unable to speak, unable to wonder whatever he wants— he wants to be stuck in this moment forever, it was greater than any other treasure he had come across. you were so good at your job, it made him want to know the lengths of your skills. 

“suck me off,” he finally speaks, gentle to remove his thumb from your mouth. 

it was a statement that you were used to, the firm tone, the expectation to get to it immediately— yet you are somehow surprised when it comes from him, it’s less firm, not like a demand but rather an offer, and there wasn’t a feeling of being rushed. for a man who seemingly had no time for women, he surely had a way to talk to them, to be gentler with them, unlike the other men. it was always cowboys who had the better ways of treating women, respectful with every word, or touch. his eyes are heavy on you, the curtains of your eyelashes blinking up to him, your lips tinted a sweet rouge due to a patted on lipstick, and he finds himself pushing his thumb across your lips, smudging the burgundy ever so slightly. 

your hands smooth over the fabric of his pants, fingertips teasing the leather of his belt which accompanied his gun holster as you palmed him through his slacks. the touch of the leather was rich, sturdy and every loop was clean cut, rather than loose and falling apart like many belts you had undone before. you hear him groan as your hand gently pushes against his clothed cock, his back stiffening ever so slightly as a chill runs up it. 

he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly as you undo his belt, your fingertips threateningly close to his gun holster as you pull the leather from the metal to loosen it. a chuckle vibrates from his chest, voice lower than usual, “careful, princess.” 

he lifts his hips as you tug down his pants, boxers following soon after to slip down to his ankles with ease. a hiss escapes him as soon as his hard dick is released to the cold air, with the opposing blow of your warm air on his tip. he was already so hard, as if he had been aching for a day like this. his hand moves to wrap around his base, hips scooting closer ever so slightly. 

“open,” his voice is husky, yet velvety, like the thorn of a rose to the petals. 

you’re quick to allow your jaw to fall slack, tongue smoothing out past the burgundy that coats your lips, as if you expected his next command. he taps his tip against your tongue, biting back the groan that thunders inside his every limb at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle. he allows you to take the lead, your tongue following the underside of his dick, memorizing each vein. when you reach his tip, you press a few sloppy kisses to it that has his breathing roughen, allowing you to open your mouth once more and take his length inside. 

he sucks in a deep breath, a hoarse groan escaping past his lips when he exhales, allowing his teeth clench on the thin wooden toothpick that still remained in his mouth. his head tips back when you hollow your cheeks only mere seconds into sucking him off, his hat slipping off his head and falling onto the plush of the bedsheets. 

his breath becomes ragged with the more you bob your head, allowing the tip to reach the back of your mouth, to the throat. his free hand moves to pass through your hairline, gripping at the beginning of your hair, even through your updo, loosening the tightening of the strands. the muscle in his arms flex underneath his short-sleeved button up, veins popping out every time you reach the base. 

“good girl,” he breathes out, the whimper that vibrates around his cock making his release come quicker than expected, hand bunching up your hair as he has to move you back, off his dick to stop his orgasm. he heaves, noticing the way strips of saliva connect your mouth to his dick. he moves his hand from your hair down to your lips, watching the way your mouth instinctively opens then closes around his fingers, sucking them in with pure ease. 

he allows you to wet them with your saliva until he pulls them out and mumbles a soft, “come.” 

he helps you up onto his lap, the metal of his gun is a cooling sensation on his heated skin as he moves back, reaching under to toss his gun elsewhere. he had his guard down now, despite the large bounties on his head, he was too focused on you, and giving you the pleasure that you deserved. as you straddle him, his fingers dared to touch the bottom of your dress, threatening to raise, “may i?” 

your eyes are tantalizing when they meet his, like the threatens of the deepest lust lie within them, and billy is willing to dive in, “you may.” 

his hair is messy now, like he never took off that damn hat, and when he did— he didn’t bother to fix the hair underneath.

every movement is careful, meant to be more meaningful than a quick fuck, he raises your skirt until his eyes catch on to a white lace garter that’s propped around your upper thigh. so sweet, the purposeful placement of it all, it’s like a prize for whoever gets to raise your skirt. as you sit on his lap, your arms rest on his shoulders, a hand threatening the skin on the back of his neck as his hands move back around your waist, through the silk of the corset to the strings that hold it together on the back. his eyes are stuck onto you as his fingers begin to tug at the tie of the strings, they were in a harsh knot, but billy always knew his way around things. 

kissing clients was typically a line many of the women wouldn’t dare to cross, sometimes not even you, but the way his eyes kept tipping down to your lips had you threateningly close to the now faded line. as the laces of your corset loosen, your head tips down to where your lips barely brush him, you can smell the mint already before even getting a chance. your lips move to close around the toothpick that he kept in his mouth, moving to spit it out and he was quick to chase your lips. as soon as you had spit out the toothpick, his lips finally pressed against yours, allowing your freshly manicured hands to curl through his brunette hair. 

the fresh smell of your rose and jasmine was quick to his nose as he inhaled you up close, tongue teasing against your lower lip ever so carefully. there was a certain thirst that billy found himself feeling as he moves to spread your mouth open with his own, allowing your tongues to both clash, the mix of spit and remnants of mint and a cigarette becoming prominent to the taste. he wanted to drink every word from your lips, to suck in your siren song like his life depended on it. 

when your hips bucked up against him, needy to feel a form of friction, it had encouraged him to finally free you from the confines of your corset. your lips part when he breaks the kiss, his lips trailing kisses down to your jaw, throughout until he meets your neck, the softness of his kisses making it feel as though doves were flying through the confines of your body. when his lips begin to move to suck on the delicate skin, you hiss, “dear, dear, you can’t leave marks.” 

“your rules or brothel rules?” he murmurs against your skin, moving to toss away your corset onto the floor. 

“brothel rules,” you hush out, and you feel his lips curl onto your neck. 

“then ‘m gonna leave as many marks as i want,” he falls back into your skin, lips taking in the skin between his teeth as he moved to mark you as his own. the desire to have a prostitute as your own was a dangerous game, but billy had been a part of many dangerous games before, and now he was pulling all his money in with the unluckiest of cards— yet he still finds himself with the pride of feeling he will win. his lips pause at one of the pulse points on your neck, noticing how your heat beat quickens, and flutters, was this typical? 

he wasn’t sure, but he finds himself praying it’s a good thing. he chuckles as your hands are desperate to unbutton his shirt, pushing each wooden button through the loops with ease, you had done this a million times before, this is the only time your heart is thumping in your chest when you do, though. he moves his hand down to take a hold of one of your wrists, “easy, girl, easy.” 

“you said ten minutes,” you remind him, smile dripping on your lips. 

“mm, i want longer than that,” he helps you unbutton the last few before taking off his shirt, noticing how your eyes trail down his figure. 

“just sayin’ that because you can’t make me cum,” you break into a soft laugh against him, and he can’t help the way a small smile curves his lips as he takes off the dress that you were wearing. your body is alike to the statues you could only dream of seeing in those beautiful stories about gods and women who ruled. women who were worshipped, even as billy knew you for mere minutes, he found himself wanting to kneel at your altar, to worship the ground you walk on. to make you cum would mean more than he imagined at first, he wanted to be that man, to pleasure you in ways others haven’t. 

his fingers slip underneath the hem of your panties, immediately exposed to the wetness underneath as it coats his fingers, “can’t make you cum yet you’re so wet for me, hm?” 

you bite your lip, allowing your hips to sway against his fingers as pleasure envelopes your every thought almost immediately. though billy wasn’t quite sure about what exactly to do, he had heard the other cowboys speak of this, and he hoped it delivered as much pleasure as they said when he dips a finger inside of you. you’re loose around him, wet, yet sucking him in so easily. he’s quick to add another, finding his rhythm almost immediately and getting cocky with it. he dares to let his thumb tease the edges of your clit, as if he didn’t know it was there and he was merely looking for somewhere to place it. 

he notices the way your nails dig in to his scalp, biting your tongue so hard that crimson may bleed from it with ease. 

billy had kissed many women, been on the brink of sex, and yet none have reacted the ways in which you do. they were quick to show how they react, every emotion not blanketed behind a curtain of embarrassment but now, despite it being your job to over exaggerate the pleasure, you found yourself shy to make noise. he moves to allow another finger to push inside of you, the pink velvet of your insides encasing his fingers with ease. he hears you gasp when his fingers threaten to curl, and he allows himself another smile. his thumb moves to your clit again, and that’s when your grip becomes lethal, biting your lip no longer becoming a guard for your moans. 

“please,” you mumble out, whimpering. 

“please what, princess?” you’re putty in his hands, and he’s kneading you with ease. 

“i.. i need you,” you moan out, to be saying this to a wanted man, one who has killed, and committed theft, as well as escaped from prison— it was something you swore to never do. yet you were having sex with him and his touch felt so gentle it was as if it never happened, how could a man so dangerous be so kind? you feel a vein pulse from his neck as he finally pulls his fingers out, his eyes following yours as he moves his hand up to his mouth, allowing his fingers to move in between his lips and the taste of you to savor his tastebuds.

your pupils dilate at the sight of him tasting you, skin warming before you can even realize that you’re moving to take his fingers out, replacing them with your tongue as your mouth presses against his again. his hand falls on your waist, other hand guiding his dick to your cunt as he deepens the kiss to feel you moan against his mouth. your tongues fight for dominance, each movement a hunger of it’s own but yours falls submissive as soon as his dick slides into you with ease. your velvet is tighter around him than he expected, and he feels the vibrations of your whines against his tongue, mumbling a small, “you’re so big—“ against his lips. 

once you reach his base, you pull away from his lips, a mere string of saliva connecting you both like a lifeline. 

now you have the lead to take, your lips connecting with his neck to leave marks on him, you wonder how the other cowboys will react as your hips start swaying on his dick, riding him with ease. will they laugh at him for all the prominent hickeys? there’s no way he could hide it, you’ve heard billy had girlfriends all around in many different towns and parts of the state, what if he went back to them and they saw all the marks? it would trace back to you, you’re sure of it, but something about that fills you with a sense of pride rather than fear. you’ve always adored the outlaws, even though you were raised to be a good christian woman, a good girl. the outlaws were always the sweet talkers, as you were told from the other girls at the brothel. you were told stories about how well they treated the women, their touch being better than most the regulars, their words so dirty you’d only dream of being told it until you had finally heard it. 

now you found yourself in love with the idea of trouble, as you wrap yourself in the silks of his touch and the pleasure he gave you. his head tilts back to allow you more access to the free canvas of his neck, his hand raises, then immediately smacks onto the flesh of your ass. the slap tore a cry from your throat, into the skin that coats his neck, and a plain redness forms around the mark of his hand, branding you. 

somehow, this was more intimate than your previous affairs, even despite the roughness of the sex. it felt like a wild play of ballet, an opera you would only dream of seeing, the gracefulness of each movement and the sweetness that drips like honey off each sound, even the sounds of skin slapping as you ride him. you taste the bitterness of his cologne as you reach the sides of his neck, sucking the pale skin with a need to create marks that last. he’s fascinated by your every movement, if this truly was a ballet, he would find himself in the crowd, watching the dancer move with such purity even during such a lewd act. 

you felt yourself curl as your orgasm builds again, and it seems he is too in the way his hips begin to rock. every movement feels like being coated in molasses, trying to swim through it, the orgasms scorching through your inner thighs to your core until it wracks your body, hitting you harder than it had any other time. you don’t know what it was about him, but you were quick to flutter around him, and that had him pulling out, stroking himself for mere seconds until white stripes fall in messy streaks across your skin. 

he pulls you closer when your lips move so your head tilts onto his shoulder, both of your guys’ chests heaving as if you had just been working out, as if you were running towards danger and felt the warmth of it’s embrace reel you in. it was billy’s arms, his eyes closing for a mere second before they open again, “thought i couldn’t make you cum.” 

you hate the way you smile so easily at anything he says, the way you melt into his touch, the way even though you were merely a one night stand it felt like you wanted this to be an eternity, you wanted him to be a regular. 

“mm, i faked it,” you say with a smile, so clearly a lie. 

you move so he slips out of you, your cunt clamping around nothing as it missed the feeling of him inside of you. soon, you reassure yourself as you stand, convinced he will be returning. poor, poor girl, you were just another victim of the sweet talkers with pretty faces. it worsens as your legs become jelly, and he’s quick to stand, hands fastening to your waist and holding it to keep you balanced. his chuckle turns to a laugh, a deep, hearty laugh, “you sure, doll?” 

you roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, somehow your lipstick remained and it kept the mark staining his cheek as you left your kiss there. then you moved, taking your clothes and putting them on, “goodnight, billy.” 

[hotchfiles]

— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner

fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.

      He knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. What he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. He had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.

      “Darling? What–What are these?” He asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. You’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. It always worked.

      Normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.

      “What’s the only thing I asked of you, Aaron?” You don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.

      Aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. He was so tired. “I know, I’m sorry–”

      “Answer the question, please.”

      “Don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. That’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. If you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.

      First months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.

      He watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.

      This was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. All the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. Just–Teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.

      “We saved two girls today.” Low blow. But it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. To save two thirteen year old girls. Not some futile reason. It had to count for something.

      “I’m proud of you for that, Aaron. Are you proud of me? For the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? Or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” You raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.

      You always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.

      “That’s not what i said–”

      “I know what you said. You want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. That’s not how it works.” You open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “I want you to leave.”

      “You know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” Sore spot. You were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. But he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.

      “How am I a child?” You begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “We had an agreement. You broke it. Am I a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?���

      He knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “I said you’re acting like a child. The one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” Aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “See? proving my point.”

      “How many times do I have to accept you screwing up so I can be seen as mature?” You yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “Same times as Haley? How many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”

      Lower blow.

      Hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. Still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.

      Your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “I’m not leaving.” You wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.

      His eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.

      Damn you for choosing wine.

      Hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “Fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.

      Eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.

      You melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. And you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.

      A pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.

      Aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.

      His lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “I love you, so, so much”. His declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “Please don’t make me leave after this.” It comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.

      “Just shut up and take your pants off.”

      “You know I can only do one of those.” It makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.

      On the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. He drops his head, forehead on your shoulder

      “Fuck—Oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” It isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.

      You kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, Hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. You enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.

      Lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by Aaron’s calloused fingers. You arch your back and moan loudly, “Fuck, yes, and move.”

      It feels like an order and for Hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.

      “Honey, fuck—Please…” His begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.

      “Aaron—I’m… Fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

      The praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.

      “Yeah? Like this?” The way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.

      His movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. Your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “Yes, fuck—“ You’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “Aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”

      He would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “I can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” His lasts broken words before letting himself go.

      You don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.

      “Aaron?”

      “Yes, sweetheart?”

      “You can stay.” He looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “But if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, I’ll chop your dick off.”

      “You like it too much to do that.” His grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “See?”

      “Bite me.”

      “Gladly.”

[alexisomnias]

— "HEY, HEY CLASSMATE!" . . .

⤷ you’re their seatmate!

angels notes: can be read as platonic or romantic

featuring the DORMLEADERS

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

—riddle as a seat mate is kinda a pain in the ass

—Especially during his first year; boy would scold you for breathing too loud!

—Upon second year though he’s a lot more mellowed out

—Your one of the only people who WOULD take a seat next to him, and in exchange he helps you with things you don’t understand.

—He also won’t speak a word if you copy off his homework… just don’t make it too obvious!!

—He’d also save you if your late to class by making up an excuse or such, but shh don’t tell him you know how down-bad he is for you.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

—goodluck getting him to even show up to class

—if he does he’s literally only coming for you. he’ll ask you to take notes for him and stuff but wont complain if you don’t

—in the end he does only show up to class because your next to him, so be sure too show up yourself!!

—if he catches someone else in the seat next to you he is LEAVING, or kicking them out, no way is he sitting through the class without you by his side

—he’s not that awful of a seatmate: he’s familiar with the material so if he's in a particularly good mood he’ll help!

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

—boy probably made a deal with some student to ensure he’s always sitting next to you. doesn’t matter what class he’s there

—totally believes in unassigned signed seating so will talk off someone if they take HIS spot next to you

—definitely helps you with your homework. in fact he encourages you to come to him for help (he wants you to know you can use him as a shoulder to lean on)

—also will make up an excuse on why your late, except its hella valid

—probably shares a textbook with you ngl, and definitely shares his notes

—definitely will share his school supplies. need an eraser? he has 3! a pencil? heres a newly sharpened one!

—probably will try extra hard to show off, he wants to impress you

—(he’s also extremely vigilant on whether his handwriting is neat or not when your next to him!!)

KALIM AL ASIM

—he’s such a fun seat mate. though he’s very distracting LMAOO

—definitely gets you both in trouble for talking during a lecture (he doesn’t care though, its you!)

—completely forgets about taking notes because he just wants to chat with you

—probably has been moved in class

—will buy you a thousand pencils so you never have to sharpen one LMAO

—drags you into group projects with him and stuff, he’s pure at heart, really!!

—actually pretty insightful, he’ll exchange answers with you, and go into convo about how you came up with such an opinion or answer

—“hey this is [name]’s seat!” he says to this poor clueless student. he’s your desk warden aha!

VIL SCHOENHEIT

—Vil is actually a good seatmate! he shows up on time, always hands in his work. has academic plot armor (has he ever failed??) and he’s willing to help! though he’ll still make you do it yourself

—he brings you snacks during class! only healthy ones of course, but he feeds you and he’s super sweet about it too! Literally that one friend that always shares their food for lunch

—definitely someone to look up too, and he’ll teach you concepts or help you catch up if you fall behind. He's your personal free tutor, he uses these sessions as excuses to see you, not gonna lie!

—he may occasionally scold you based on how you present yourself, especially if you are lazy with it, but its all out of care! He'll fix it himself anyway. He personally loves running his fingers through your hair.

—not seatmate behaviors :P he cares

IDIA SHROUD

—hes more of a text mate tbh

—bro will send u messages on twstcord and get you caught 😭😭

—he doesnt even show up in person hes just there to listen atp

—even then he ADORES listening to you talk, and although he really doesn't need help with homework since you know he's there?? he'll still ask you to bring homework to him because he's petty and he wants to see you.

—and if he invites you to a "study session" its really just him stammering over his words and playing video games

—oh god, he also imagines physically sitting next to you in class, and reenacting scenes from a shoujo! actually, nevermind... too many people...

MALLEUS DRACONIA

—Malleus finds you interesting. you have enough courage to sit next to him? how interesting

—literally the only one in class who doesn't sit like 5 kilometers away from him. He immediately grows a liking to you because of that.

—he’ll talk to you in class unknowingly getting you both caught LMAO, except your the only one getting in trouble unfortunately.

—he’ll have in dept conversations to you about certain topics, and almost always has an answer to give you in class

—he’s an encyclopedia, and he LOVES helping you! ask and hes already explaining.

—probably gets distracted by staring at you in class. Not sneaking glances, full on dazedly staring at you (in a totally not menacing way). he just likes looking at you! don't mind him!

—a sweetheart really, also super possessive over your seat. he ensures he's always on time to class so he can see you and sit next to you, and he’ll get all pouty if he cant.

[faux-ecrivain]

Yan babysitter

(Fourth official post)

(This one is a bit shorter than my other posts)

“Don’t worry I’ll take good care of them!” He placates your parents as they leave, waving them off and slamming the door shut when your parents have gone far enough.

He turns to you, with a rather fierce glare and shoos you off to your room. 

Yan babysitter that wants nothing to do with you, that only took the job because he needs the money. 

Yan babysitter who thinks you’re too old for a babysitter, but he doesn’t care, your parents are rich and that’s all he needs to know.

Yan babysitter who did not anticipate you to be such an irresponsible nuisance. (What’s with the weird cultists that keep knocking on the door and where’s that strange whispering coming from??)

Yan babysitter who quickly discovers that maybe this job was more than he bargained for, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive of his job.

Yan babysitter who, somehow, ended up trapped in another dimension and is trying to escape. (Turns out cultists don’t take too kindly to the door being slammed in their face)

Yan babysitter who is sure he’s going to die here in this strange dimension.

Yan Babysitter who regrets ever taking this job and swears that if he ever gets out he’s never coming to this house again.

Yan babysitter who faces the horrors of this other dimension, each monster warping his mind and easing him into insanity.

Yan babysitter who’s so close to escaping, but then he gets trapped by some weird otherworldly creature.

Yan babysitter whose life flashes before his eyes as the creature nears.

He closes his eyes and can only hope that this won’t be dragged out, he can feel the creature approach, and he can do nothing but curl up into a ball and beg for mercy.

However, death doesn’t come, no, just when the creature unhinged its jaw and prepares to (quite literally) devour Yan babysitter, he’s saved.

Yan babysitter who’s stunned whenever you rescue him and when he tries to express his gratitude you dismiss his gratitude. (This happened a lot, you tell him, you even suggest that it was your parents intention to sacrifice him.)

Yan babysitter, who from then on, is absolutely obsessed with you (he treats you like a deity, swearing that he’ll serve you forever.)

You brush him off, as you are used to saving irresponsible babysitters from the jaws of doom, then your try to ignore his constant rambling about you being a deity. (Because you aren’t, you’re just a normal person with magic powers) Yet, no matter how much you ignore him his ramblings don’t (Maybe you should’ve left him in that other dimension)

He takes your indifference as a sign of shyness, his mind warped by the brief time he spent in that other dimension. (Seriously, he’s going to need major therapy when he leaves this house) He decides to dedicate his life to protecting you or at the very least repay you for saving his life.

Which then leads to him following you around, intervening in everything you do and then isolating you from those he deems a threat. (Mostly your friends)

Somehow, in less than two weeks, he has threatened half of your neighborhood and caused almost all your friends to go missing. 

At this point, it occurs to you that maybe Yan babysitter is a danger to your lifestyle and you should probably get rid of him. Which marks the beginning of your attempts to erase him from existence, however this doesn’t sway him, and he somehow believes that the person targeting him is actually aiming for you.

So, now, you’ve got an overprotective babysitter watching your every move and probably hiding in your walls. (Maybe you should have let him rot in the other dimension, less trouble and you wouldn’t have had to explain to your parents why the demon in your basement is still hungry)

Yan babysitter who promises to always protect you and to be by your side forever. (He’s such a nuisance)

(Sorry for the short post, I was somewhat distracted by the tv when I was writing this.)

(Regardless, enjoy this post and feel free to comment)

[reflectionsofacreator]

“You know, it’s generally not the best idea to sneak up on a vigilante. Let alone someone like me,” Red Hood drawled as he rest his hand on his gun holster. 

The floating teenager chuckled at him, and it sounded tired. “Yeah, I’m not known for ‘em, sorry.” 

He was about the same age as the girl with the undercut, maybe around seventeen to nineteen, and the dark bags on his pale cheeks were highlighted by the glowing toxic green eyes that stared straight at him. A fringe of white hair floated around his head like it was moving through water, just barely hiding how his ears swept up into a point and when he grinned at Jason, all his teeth were pointed. He was wearing a black body suit that Nightwing would be jealous of, with white accents that highlighted his lean, masculine frame. 

“You with them?” Hood asked, and jerked his chin in the direction of the van. 

“My sisters, yeah,” the guy said with a shrug. The motion seemed a bit wrong somehow, but Jason couldn’t figure out why. “Sorry, I know I should have better manners than this, but things’ve been… uh. Bad. I meant to bring you a gift and ask if they -- if we could stay here, but uhm…” 

“A gift.” Red Hood stated, and didn’t move save to cock his head curiously to the side. 

Green Eyes rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and lifted up his other hand in a half shrug. “Sorry, I don’t really have much to offer, and I’m so sorry about messing up the vibes of your haunt. You probably felt us for hours, huh.” 

He didn’t react to that, save to let his considering noise drag through his vocoder and render it a staticky, low pitched hum. It unnerved a lot of people, but surprisingly the teen only winced and didn’t look scared. 

“Yeahhhh I was kind of afraid of that,” he huffed. “Okay. My name’s Phantom. I promise I’m not trying to mess with your haunt, I’m just… trying to keep an eye on my sisters after everything that happened. Keep em safe, you know? I swear they won’t get into trouble, we just need a place to live.” 

“What about you? You going to get into trouble?” Hood asked and shifted his stance to be about ten percent less threatening. It worked, because Phantom brightened, literally his eyes flared, and he looked a bit more at ease. 

“Me? Naw, I’m just going to haunt my sisters and that’s it. Won’t get into trouble, I promise.” 

“The fuck you mean, haunt your sisters? You some type of ghost or something?” Hood huffed. 

Phantom winced. 

“The fuck.” 

-dry wine rebirth, ch 1

Summary

Learning that the new family of maybe-metas had their dead brother for a ghostly protector was not on Red Hood's bingo sheet, and Jason getting roped into a date with one of the sisters was even less on that damn thing. But something's off with the Nightingales, they're running from something, hiding, and it was the same thing that killed their brother, Jason's sure of it - and Phantom's ominous warning that he might be next is getting under his skin.

Hm. Hm. Yeah no, I don't have a defense for this. I got sucked into this niche little crossover. I dunno how much brainspace this is gonna eat, but have what I've gotten so far.

[hobie-enthusiast]

— cw; making out, suggestive themes, implications of death

thinking about hobie brown who would impulsively get a new matching piercing with you after a night out in the city. he brings you to a friend of his who does his piercings, someone he trusts. he tells them to do whatever they want, as long as the two of you match. he offers his hand to you to squeeze when you’re being pierced, and after, he’s absolutely obsessed with how you both look.

thinking about hobie brown who’s protective of the things he loves, especially you. He doesn’t trust many people, especially those he doesn’t know. it's little gestures, like pulling you close to him by the arm or waist or walking on the side on the street the road is. he couldn't imagine something happening to you, he has a strong urge to always keep you safe. that's probably why spider-man always happens to show up when you get into some trouble alone.

thinking about hobie brown who drops several hints he’s spider-man. he doesn’t like lying to you, and even though he isn’t, it feels like he is. so he waits for you to ask or put the pieces together. if you never do, he doesn’t outright tell you. he would never want you to think he’s doing it to impress you or be famous. not that you would think that. but if you do, he’s honest and even offers to let you be his partner-in-crime, its perfect.

thinking about hobie brown who always wants to hear about your interests. even if it’s something he doesn’t know or understand the excitement over. he wants to hear every detail you know. he wants to know and understand where your excitement comes from and what you love about it. he will just sit there with such a love struck grin, eyes never leaving you or your lips moving so passionately.

thinking about hobie brown who lives for post-show make out sessions. after his band plays he always takes you to the back of the venue, holding you close to him as he kisses you like there's no tomorrow. he's addicted to you; the way your hot bodies press together, the way your lips feel on his, the way he can make you unravel from his hands settling on your waist. it's like a drug he's never going to get enough of, especially when his leg slots so perfectly between your thighs to rile you up. after he's always a panting mess, eyes lidded as he laughs, yet the laugh is a low chuckle from the way you practically drag him home.

thinking about hobie brown who would not hesitate to interrupt a canon event to save your life. whether it's in his dimension or some other variation of his, he doesn't care. the second he notices your life in danger, he's saving you. he can handle a heavy and hard scolding from miguel. hell he can ever handle being kicked from the spider-society for good. but nothing comes above saving your life, and he is a firm believer in that.

thinking about hobie brown who is obsessed with the way you play with his hair. his favourite way to fall asleep is in your lap, your hands tangled in his wicks, treating them and him like the most precious thing in the world. it's like some sort of spell you put on him, and he will never get enough of it. you start scratching his scalp or weaving your fingers through his hair? he's asleep in minutes. he's very protective of his hair and who can touch it, so letting someone he loves see him so vulnerable is always enough to relax him and coax him into getting proper sleep.

truly just thinking about hobie brown.

[wosoimagines]

Swap - Jessie Fleming/Reader

just a little something for you guys that i've had an idea about for way too long (thank the USWNT v Canada game for this cause it made me remember how much i love Jessie)

prompt: Jessie and R have a long standing tradition of trading jerseys, but someone gets in the way of that.

warnings: none

words: 1,256

(Y/N) POV

I grinned as I found Jessie in the crowd. I knew that the game didn’t actually end the way either of us wanted, but at least neither of us could be that upset since we didn’t lose.  

“Swap with me?” 

My eyes darted away from where they had locked onto Jessie to turn to Eriksson. I tilted my head in confusion. I had never actually talked to Eriksson before other than some light trash talk on the field. 

“You want my jersey?” 

Eriksson softly chuckled but nodded. 

One of the best centerbacks in the game wanted my jersey. 

It was still surreal that there were other players out there who would seek me out to get my jersey. 

“Well, I feel like it would be fitting considering how much trouble you give me during these derby games and when you play against Sweden.” 

“Oh.” 

I still didn’t make a move to take my jersey off though. My eyes darted to where Jessie was talking to a couple of her teammates. 

“So, how many of her jerseys do you have, and you still haven’t told her how you feel?” 

My eyes snapped back to where Eriksson was standing. She was watching me, but I knew that she was aware of who I was staring at. 

“I don’t know,” I shrugged as I ducked my head. It honestly was too high of a number to count now. We had gotten into the habit of trading our jerseys at least once a year when we played each other, and, honestly, even when we didn’t play against each other nationally, we still saved each other a jersey from the year. “We just kind of started as teenagers and never stopped. It’s our little tradition now when we play each other the first time of the year to swap.” 

“How about this,” Eriksson started, causing me to look over at her, “you go tell Jessie how you actually feel about her, and I’ll wait until the next time we play to swap with you.” 

I huffed a little at that. It wasn’t that I didn’t mind telling the world about Jessie and me, but Jessie was such a private person that I didn’t mind keeping our relationship from the world. Besides, our family and most of our friends knew. 

Well, at least most of my friends knew. If Jessie’s captain didn’t even know then I wasn’t sure who all on her club team knew. I didn’t even know if any of them knew. 

“I’d much rather just break tradition.” 

Eriksson raised her eyebrows at that.  

It wasn’t often that I would turn down a challenge. But if Jessie’s own teammates didn’t know, then I definitely didn’t want to risk them and the fans finding out about our relationship because I took Eriksson’s challenge. 

“Didn’t think it was like you to turn down a challenge.” 

“Not usually, no,” I said as I tugged my jersey over my head. “But there are some things that are better left the way they are. My friendship with Jessie isn’t one I’m going to risk for a jersey.” 

“Wouldn’t she be more upset that you’re not trading with her?” 

I shrugged at that. Jessie probably would be upset with me initially, but I figured she would probably get over it pretty quickly since I knew neither of us would be required to go in tomorrow. We always had the day after derbies off. 

“I’ll trade with her next derby. And maybe you could convince Harder to trade with me the game after that?” 

“I’ll mention it to Pernille.” 

I grinned at that as Eriksson finally pulled her own jersey off. I had been wanting to trade with Pernille Harder for quite some time, but I never had gathered the courage to ask the forward I looked up to. I handed mine over to her as she handed her jersey to me. I wasn’t surprised either when we were asked to pose for a picture with each other. 

Once the picture was over, I shook hands with Eriksson. 

“You should still tell her,” Eriksson said as she pulled me closer to her. “I think you might be surprised with how she feels about you too.” 

“We’ll see.” 

Eriksson gave me a pat on the back before she was off towards Harder. I sighed as I shook my head. I turned to try and find Jessie; I wasn’t surprised to find her still with Nimah as they talked with Lotte and Leah. I grinned as I weaseled my way in between Leah and Jessie, but it dropped a bit as Jessie’s eyes darted down to the jersey in my hands before looking at me. 

I didn’t pay too much attention to the conversation that the three English players were having as it was obviously more about their next camp. I nudged Jessie before nodding my head towards the tunnels. 

Jessie glanced at Nimah before she nodded. I smiled a bit wider at that as the two of us split off with waves to our respective teammates. Jessie stayed quiet as the two of us headed toward the tunnel. 

“So, my place or yours?” I asked. Jessie tilted her head to the side as she looked at me. “Well, normally the winner takes the loser home, but we drew.” 

Jessie slowly nodded at that. 

“Didn’t realize you still wanted to come home with me.” 

My brow furrowed at that. I had no real idea why Jessie would think that I didn’t want to go home with her. 

“Considering you swapped your jersey with someone else. Thought you of all people would keep with tradition.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“You swapped with someone else.” 

I rolled my eyes at that.  

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” 

I huffed because I was sure that we were attracting quite a bit of unwanted attention from fans. I grabbed onto Jessie’s arm as I dragged her into the tunnel finally before heading toward a more secluded area of the Emirates. 

“Look, I did it for you.” 

“Doing it for me would have been swapping with me.” 

“Are you jealous?” 

Jessie scoffed at that as she began to shake her head. 

“You are!” 

“Am not!” 

“Are so!” 

“You can sleep on the couch then.” 

I rolled my eyes at that. I knew that Jessie wouldn’t actually make me sleep on the couch, especially since we hadn’t been able to spend time with each other in the same place since the winter break. Facetime and phone calls only went so far. 

“She wanted me to tell you how I felt,” I admitted. Jessie raised an eyebrow at that. “Eriksson. I told her it was tradition for us to switch jerseys and she told me that I could switch with you if I told you how I felt. I didn’t want to put you in the spot where you either had to out our relationship to your teammates if you haven’t told them or where you had to act like you rejected me. I know you want to keep us private from the public eye. So, I figured I could just swap with Eriksson this time and we’ll swap next time.” 

“I get it the next time though,” Jessie said as she poked at my chest, “and I guess you can sleep in the bed with me since you did it to make sure that our relationship stayed out of the public eye.” 

I grinned at that. 

“Does that mean I finally get my kiss from you?” 

[tarjapearce]

Mama's Pick up Lines (Pt. 1)

Warning: Fluff, a bit of rizz ~

Summary: Mama looves rizzing up Miguel.

(In honor to Valentine's day a lil blurb jskjs)

If there was something that you loved, was watching Miguel a flustered or surprised mess. Mostly of the time he was the one that always provided the right amount of rizz to have your cheeks flustered or a trembling mess underneath him.

But this time, you were set into switching the roles. Sundays meant he'd spend the day at home, being a dad and a husband. Your perfect chance.

You'd grown to learn the sound of his heavy steps, and he approached, probably to serve another cup of coffee. As soon as he entered the room, you rushed to close the kitchen's curtains, leaving the space a bit darker, he quirked a brow at your sudden energy ourburst.

"Mi reina?"

"Hm?"

"You okay?"

He put the cup on the counter island, reaching for the coffee machine.

"Yeah... Just... These damned suns are too bright today."

"Suns?"

His brow knitted together in brief confusion, "There's only one sun, mi vida."

If something had him baiting, was inaccurate science facts. It ground his gears to no end. A total nerd through and through.

"No, no. I mean, one is outside" He blinked at your words, truly wondering if you were kidding or not

"And the other one is about to get himself some coffee."

It took a couple of seconds longer for it to click on his brain. You giggled at his speechless reaction, but his wide and unbelieving eyes and the bashful smile he gave said it all.

With a giggle you kissed his reddening cheek, letting the compliment to sink in properly.

-----

Miguel wasn't one for crafts or anything that involve glitter or intricately cut shapes. Hands too big for  the scissors. The living room's floor filled with paper and other material's leftovers.

And still, he would never say no to his kids. He was helping Benjamin to cut some things for a gift to one of his classmate's school birthday party

You entered the room, watching him.

"What are you doing?"

"Uh... wrapping this, apparently?."

"Oh, can I do that? I wanna wrap it."

He dropped the scissors in the coffee table, grateful that you were to save him of some stress. But to his surprise, your legs went around him, clinging on him and securing around his waist like you'd do in the privacy of your room and kissed him briefly while he was sitting on the couch

His brain froze for a moment, and he blinked as you removed your legs off him, an impish smirk on your face.

"Wha... What was that?"

"I asked if I could, so I wrapped it."

You ran away with a screech before hearing the hefty steps tailing after you. You were so in trouble.

----

Miguel was picking the vitamins for the kids in the monthly shop of them, He had Rosie secured to his chest within the pink baby carrier, bee shaped pacifier on her mouth, staring at everything that moved.

"I think..." he mumbled while taking another look at the list, "We've got them all."

Benjamin was helping Gabriella to pick the snacks in the other aisle.

"No, not all of them."

He frowned.

"What do you mean?, We've got complex B, Omega 3, your biotin, Iron, melatonin for us and the kids." He pointed at each bottle as he spoke

You shook your head. "I haven't had my vitamin D yet"

And oh boy... His face went through the five stages of grief in a couple of seconds, specially when you purposely bit your lip subtly. Cheeks flushed as another couple gave silent titters as they passed by you both. They had heard it all. He heaved a deep exhale and waved a warning finger to you, a deep shade of pink in his ears.

"Compórtate. O no te la doy." (Behave, or I won't give it to you)

----

Sometimes, you'd wake up earlier than everyone and would find him in the kitchen, brewing his coffee or chugging down his water bottle after running some laps around the block.

You'd get some cereal and waited for the kids to join. But you frowned and scrunched your nose at the taste of the cereal.

"You alright?" He sipped the coffee.

"No. This milk tastes weird."

His brow quirked, ready to see the carton for any expiration date

"That's why I rather yours."

He spat the gulp of coffee as you laughed silently to then smirk

"You ok, Papa?"

"Ya vas a ver." (You'll see.)

-----

"Miguel, mi amor, can you get me the salt please?"

You wiped Rosie's chin off the smeared puree, he turned around to grab the little square shaped salt container, and you seized the chance to take a soft hold of his chin and turn his head around to give him a deep smooch.

"Hey"

He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat as Benjamin and Gabi jeered.

"Papa's got pink cheeks!" Benjamin teased, and Rosie gave a bubbly laugh

"See? till got it."

You definitely did.

[melodic-haze]

Personally how touched starved do you think Arlecchino and Furina are? Like one has been alone for 500 years and the other killed her best friend and probably doesn’t think she deserves love.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: Arlecchino x Reader, Furina x Reader

☆ — TYPE: SFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Oh I think they'd be VERY fucking touch starved, except the two are like. On two different sides of the scale

On one end, you've got Furina. On the other end, you've got Arlecchino. What they're on a scale of? How "vocal" they would be in terms of it

Furina would be on the VERY vocal side, and by that I mean she WILL monologue to you about how she needs your touch or else she will PERISH from a lack of you-contact

Furina puts the back of her hand on her forehead, "My beloved wants to leave me be! Oh, you torture me..."

"Babe, I'm literally only going to get a glass of water."

"You forget my domain over the element!" She moves to throw herself onto you, wrapping her arms around your neck and causing you to laugh as you caught her, "I can satisfy your needs easily!"

"At that rate I'll be better off taking a shower!"

"It gets the job done!"

But she's not vocal for no reason :((( 500 years spent in self-isolation in order to save her people takes a HUGE toll on you so the moment Furina had realised that she doesn't have to do the whole song and dance all over again, she just can't help the want—the need—to basically be attached to you

It's not just because she wants to make up for lost time after FINALLY being able to do so, but also because she's scared that one day it'll all just go poof and disappear in a distant dream. She doesn't speak of her troubles until either she decides it herself that she should or one of the members of her Salon Solitaire (Crabaletta lol) decides to conk her for it

Sometimes she'll ask if she's being a pain in the ass bc she IS aware that she's constantly wanting for you to at LEAST be near her which. If you say she is then I need to sit you down personally and slap you in NOT a fun way

Meanwhile, Arlecchino on the other hand, is VERY quiet about it. She won't say anything, nevermind doing anything. She'd restrict herself from clinging onto you as much as she'd like to

You were a vision to her, a lovely sight to see and a lovely voice to hear as you recounted your day's events. Even when you did something so mundane, something that isn't necessarily something special, Arlecchino still looked at you with such adoration.

She almost didn't notice her hand inching closer towards yours from her warm daze.

Almost.

Before she could draw it back unnoticed, however, you turned your head at just the right (or wrong) time.

"Arlecchino? Is there.. something wrong?"

..She shakes her head instead of admitting her desires, "No, my apologies, darling. I was rather captivated by your tale. Do tell me more about your friend's predicament."

And so you do, but you couldn't help but notice the longing look in her eyes.

It takes a while before she starts warming up to the idea of letting herself actually do SOMETHING. And that'll take a lot of time, patience and encouragement from her❗️❗️❗️ But trust when I say it's worth it bc she practically treats you with so much more affection and devotion than the literal archon she serves HAHA

She doesn't thinks she deserves to show physical affection, to touch you, to truly worship you and your body in every way she can—not when she has the power to hurt you, not when she's killed off the person she had cherished the most all those years ago :(

You gotta reassure her that everything's okay and that you won't disappear bc once you've done that? She's SO TOUCHY she will NOT go through the day without havign some form of contact with you

She won't do it as much in work though she has a reputation she wants to keep lmao

[shanastoryteller]

Hi Shana, happy holidays! Would you mind writing something about the Nie brothers, maybe with time travel? (Your time travel AUs are always so so amazing <3)

a continuation of 1 2 3 4

Father is courting.

Nie Mingjue is trying not to be resentful about it but he's mostly failing.

It's been over a decade since his own mother died and nearly five since Huaisang's had. It's not improper, or unexpected, even. Their father is still young, just over forty. Why shouldn't he marry again? A larger family is more security for their clan.

Except it's not even more heirs he's after, because the person he's pursuing is a man and maybe the most improper thing about it is that he's some random wandering cultivator that no one has heard of.

Wei Cheng looks too young for their father except the way he acts and moves doesn't feel match his face, which means some random cultivator has achieved a level of cultivation sufficient to slow down the aging process.

There are full senior disciples that can't do that. Father hasn't even achieved that. Why should this nobody be able to do it?

His and Huaisang's mothers were young and powerful and beautiful, selected from the strongest families within their clan and offered to the clan leader.

They both died.

"Are you still out here brooding?" Huaisang asks.

Nie Mingjue regrets telling Huaisang about this place more and more every day. "Missing your shadow?"

He rolls his eyes. "You have to be nicer to A-Ying." Why should he be? He's just waltzing into their lives with his stupid dad and Huaisang is just a kid, he doesn't know what any of this means, he just knows that Wei Ying is fun and likes getting in trouble with him and encourages all of his worst habits, why wouldn't they get along - "He's going to be our brother and Dad is really not going to put up with you being mean to him once he tricks Wei Cheng into bowing to him."

Nie Mingjue stares. "You - how did you - did someone say something?"

He wrinkles his nose. "Who would need to? Look at him. Wei Cheng spent like twenty minutes yelling at him about the junior disciple archery curriculum and Dad just say there and nodded. If Wei Cheng had any family besides A-Ying he'd probably just save himself the time and approach them with a marriage contract." He tilts his head to the side. "Maybe he should do that anyway. A-Ying would totally sign it."

Nie Mingjue has a headache.

And at this rate, he's going to have two.

[mockerycrow]

“don’t you dare lie. i can see it hurts, so show me.” with gaz or soap

if it's not too much trouble I would like to sob please

also congrats on 400 followers!!!!! :)

400 Follower Celebration

(ENDED JUNE 15TH)

—“Don’t you dare lie. I can see it hurts, so show me.”— With Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Summary: After falling from a great height through an unstable floor, you end up with bruised ribs and a deep gash in your side that needs proper medical attention—but you’re almost at your destination with your team, so you say you’re fine.

A/N: I’m almost at 900 now?? thank you everyone 😭 also, your callsign is “Cinder”.

[WARNINGS: Medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, descriptions of wounds, physical hurt/comfort.]

You groaned as your ears rung, your body feeling unnaturally heavy. You blinked slowly and everything felt like it was far away and moving in slow motion, and your body felt unnaturally wet.. and hot. You let out a dry cough as you accidentally inhaled the misty debris, no doubt not doing your lungs any good. You looked around as your mind remained blank, whatever happened shocked you enough into a dazed state for a moment. You lay your head back down and you close your eyes tight for just a moment to try to regain feeling in your face, and pain bloomed from your neck and shoulders. Luckily, your helmet saved you from a major concussion and possibly a head injury. The ringing slowly faded until it became background noise, and you hear a voice talking into a radio and distant gunshots, as well as little parts of the destroyed floor above you falling to your level. “Cinder? Cinder do you copy??” Price. It’s Price’s voice, you vaguely catalogue that, but you don’t understand that you should probably respond. Your try to take a deep breath, but you find your chest being restricted, so you look down.

Oh.

There’s several large pieces of debris on top of you, a big piece of structural wood laying across your chest while pieces of concrete re-enforcement pin the wood down onto you. You should probably move that.

You lift your arms and you distantly feel that your side and your back is wet, your hands getting a good grip on the wood and grunting, you push the debris off yourself, moving your head to the side as some of the concrete rolls off the wood near your head. You let out another dry wheeze, feeling an ache in your ribs. For some reason, every sensation just feels.. so far away right now. You blink slowly as you sit up, glancing around the rubble that you’re sitting in the middle of. You touch your side and your body instinctively flinches, and your mind yells at you for touching your side, even if you don’t feel anything yet. You pull your hand back and your hand is wet with your blood, coating your palm like you just swiped your hand across a puddle on the street.

That isn’t good, now is it?

Oh, you should probably say something on comms. You use your clean hand to reach up and press a button, and your words are slightly slurred. “M’here, all good. Just.. got the wind knocked outta me.”

“We’ll have you checked out when we reach the safehouse. RV with us at the yellow house.”

“..Copy.”

You bend down and pick up your rifle that had been forced out of your hands, wincing as the pain in your muscles and your side is beginning to catch up to your brain. Despite wearing a vest, it seems like something managed to cut through to your side. You can’t help but look around and you press your lips together when you see rebar sticking out of different places; partially above you on the remaining slabs that haven’t fallen down to your level, as well as rebar stuck in large chunks of the concrete. It smelled like pure concrete too, if that makes sense. You hum when you know that your wound must be bad enough to soak through the vest, but you don’t want to stop and wait around just so they can slap an oversized bandaid on your side. You can do that later at the safehouse yourself.

You take a deep breath which leads to a cough, your hand coming up to brush some of the white dust from the infrastructure off of you. You get yourself out of the collapsed building and grip your rifle correctly, pointing it in front of you with your finger near the trigger, scanning your environment. All you see is ruined civilian buildings with dead enemy soldiers lining the streets, and unfortunately a few normal civilians, too. You take another look and you see the yellow house in question, but it’s a ways away. “Eyes on the yellow house, five, maybe six klicks out.”

“Copy, the perimeter is secured. You know the drill. Over and out.”

It admittedly takes you longer than it should’ve to get there. As you made your way to the rendezvous point, part of the adrenaline in your system began to stop pumping, which made you intensely aware of the gash in your side, the bruises forming deep within your muscles, and how heavy your body feels overall. It was not looking good.

After dragging yourself through the eerily quiet and bloody streets—you did have to stop a couple of times—you finally managed to get to the yellow house. ‘You know the drill.’ Find an alternate entrance other the main door, knock in a specific pattern, then wait for the door to open. You get yourself to the entrance of the house and you lift your arm, trying to ignore the way it feels like gravity is pulling on it more than usual, and then you knock the pattern you and the team agreed upon a while ago. It takes a moment before Soap opens the door with his rifle pointed at you, and you raise my hands. Soap lets out a sigh of relief and lowers his rifle, stepping to the side. “Steamin’ Jesus, looks like you’ve been through hell, aye?” He comments as you trudge your way inside. You grumble and wave him off. “Something like that.” You reapond, your voice hoarse. You make your way into the biggest room of the downstairs, which ends up being the living room. You scan the room and see Price, Ghost, and Gaz. “Saw you were in the building that collapsed. You broken?” Price grips his rifle harsher as he walks over to you, and you shake your head. “Nothin’ I can’t handle, Cap’.”

Gaz walks over to you next, his finger pointing at your bloodied side. “You sure ‘bout that? That doesn’t look too good, Cinder.” You avoid looking anyone in the eyes in fear that they will see past your already shaky facade, and you shake your head yes. “I’m.. I’m sure, just a bit tender.” This isn’t good, because the pain is managing to hit you harder and harder now. It’s like your gash is a spot where someone branded you and the burning hot sensation won’t leave for a long time, and when it finally does?—only pure pain will remain. Gaz scoffs and grabs your rifle from you, causing you to furrow your brows. “Hey, what gives?—“

Gaz then leads you over to a chair nearby and forces you to sit down, and he then puts your rifle and his rifle on the dusty table. “Let me see,” He scans your face with hardened puppy eyes, his fingers going for your vest. You shake your head and try to push his hands away. “Kyle, I am fine—“

“Don’t you dare lie. I can see it hurts, so show me.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for you to argue, so you put your arms down. You bite your lip and mutter, “I would’ve survived to the safehouse.”

Gaz wordlessly undoes the straps and clips of your bloody tactical vest, and pulls the weight off of your body. You hiss and close your eyes for a moment, hearing shuffling, probably Gaz putting the vest down. You feel his fingers pull your shirt from being stuffed into your waistband, and you hiss from the shirt dragging against the gash. You open your eyes and beside you is Gaz and Ghost—Ghost, who is setting down a medical kit, and he eyes you before speaking. “You wouldn’t have, Sergeant.”

Everyone goes silent from that, and you’re aware of the heaviness in the air due to Ghost’s observation. You opt to look at Gaz who has worried and troubled eyes as he cleans the gash, and you try to ignore the way you’re bleeding onto him. “Shit, Soap, come over here and help me.” His voice is slightly trembling and you feel guilt bubble in your gut. Gaz should never sound like that, especially not because of you..

Soap jogs over and grabs gauze, helping Gaz to soak up the blood and clean your gash. “It’s going to need stitches..” Gaz mutters, making eye contact with you. You take a deep breath and nod. “Quickly.. please?”

Gaz looks back at your wound, breaking the slight tension, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Of course.”

[positively-mine]

Alternate way of Leona finding out you’re a female

original post, & credits to @y2ashlee for their idea!

tags: slightly ooc Leona, afab reader, I think that's all lmk if there are others!

a/n: I'm finally back and writing YAYYYYY

ok firstly let’s establish some context, since you and jack are both first years and spend time together, Leona can smell your scent on jack when he returns to the dorm

doesn’t take much notice to it

not for long though because he recognises that scent when he’s rudely awakened from his relaxing nap by someone stepping on his tail 😒

and he takes a serious offence to it, like a personal vendetta (I take him as someone who likes to be/ is petty)

so whenever he sees you expect some snarky comment like “hey, it’s the magicless herbivore” or “it’s the trouble maker with the little kitty” and blah blah blah just Leona things

and sometimes when he’s realllly in a bad mood he’ll threaten you with “move before I send you running away with your tail tucked between your legs 😾”

yea…but keep in mind this all before he knew that you are a girl, just him being a pissy little kitty

so when he finally overblots and you swoop in to save the day does he start being a little more nicer to you

Which means less nasty comments and more sarcasm

A win is a win

but imagine to his surprise when one day he overheard from one of his underclassmen (jack) that you’re a girl

he probably overheard the both of you talking in the garden as he was within earshot

why wasn’t he at his normal spot you ask?

well a group of students started walking around his territory to look for ingredients obviously

and they wouldn't shut up so instead he decided to move and save the trouble of talking to them

but you didn't know that, certainly not when Jack came over to tell you to be careful (again) as you've been letting your guard down

else you want MORE people to find out you're girl

too late because Leona's in the bush behind you but hey

and I kid you not when I say his eyes almost bulge out

wait so you've been a girl all along??

every single interaction that you've had had together crosses his mind immediately

and all of them are his not so pleasant behavior towards you

a shiver immediately runs down his spine

if Farena and his wife finds out how he has been treating you he's sure they would give him an ear full

yea no way he can fall asleep now

so now he's just awkwardly laying in the grass waiting for you and Jack to leave

and the next time you see him he's so very docile

he simply nods his head at you and keeps quiet

I mean you and the others definitely find it strange and suspicious but don't comment further on it

and now he's not sure how to treat you because WHAT IS HE SUPPOSED TO DO AFTER TREATING YOU SO BADLY

so now you have to deal with Leona's sudden change in behavior and awkwardness until he gets used to you again