#I just thought it was sick as hell and I felt like making a mask

[holeforzenin]

❝​REPAYMENT​❝

Synopsis - Oh no! What happens when the big, massive strong man that saved you during a very dangerous war, wants something from you in return for his bravery?

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!reader

Warnings - Dub-con, mentions of killing people, creampie, ass play, size kink, he stuffs his gloves in your mouth, he's possessive, mentions about keeping you with him. Dark content. this was kinda rushed so sorry for any errors!!

Art credits @umkochannart on twitter!

A/n - I NEED HIM, SOMEONE PLEASE

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Oh my— fuck! Sir, please we shouldn't be doing this, someone might see!” you stammered, legs trembling as your panties lazily pooled around your ankles. You mewled at the feeling of his hard, cold gear slapping against the mound of your ass, making the flesh ripple against his clothed pelvis. You keened as the wooden table dug into your stomach as you held onto the edge for dear life.

His cock was so thick and long—perfectly curved as it stretches open your tight, compressed walls to alter his girth. He grunts, feeling your tight little pussy eagerly fluttering around his invasive dick as you blabber on and on about your little worries about getting caught. Of course, you minded that a stranger man was destroying your pussy, but that was the least of your worries right now. The thought of getting caught and someone seeing your vulnerable self—almost naked, being pounded against a small table in the supply room by a big solider that's fully clothed, except for the crotch of his pants that's zipped down to free his aching cock, that's currently having your cunt drooling—making a mess all over his thick combat pants, made your mind hazy and your cunt throbbing in both excitement and frustration.

“Aww don't worry bout' that darling—I’ll just kill them for you so they won't say anything, will that be better?” he chuckles, his gloved hands digging into your hips as he deeply thrusts himself inside your dripping pussy relentlessly, fucking every single brain cell out of you. For someone who is “scared”, your pussy sure as hell was soaked and aroused.

He smirked under his skull mask at the feeling of your sweet pussy throbbing in tight circles around his cock to his words. “Oh? What a dirty little slut, does my talking about killing people make you horny? Such a sick little bitch, this pussy is clenching around me like it's fucking addicted to my cock, you a virgin, darling?”

Your eyebrows furred together at his sick wordings, you felt on the verge of losing your mind as the feeling of pure pleasure clouded your mind. “No, M’not!” you whimpered out, your tits grazing against the wooden table as your gushy pussy leaked all over his veiny shaft, every thrust had your pussy coating his cock even more with your filthy juices—as if you were enjoying it, or maybe you were?

“Oh yeah? Well, your cunt sure is fucking tight and warm—squeezing me so hard for someone that's a whore, whaddya say I keep you here and split open this little pussy whenever I feel like it?” he chuckles darkly, a huge palm slapping your bouncing ass as it jiggles against him, you moaned, tears prickling at your tear line as his thick, filled balls slaps against your poor clit, creating even more friction that had you seeing stars.

“No! Sir—can't, you promised you'll let me go after this!” you muttered, feeling so stuffed by the big man’s cock. “Shh, shhh I'm just joking with you doll” he laughs wickedly, perverted eyes moving down to where the two of you were lewdly connected. His eyes fixated on your other little neglected hole, which's already coated with some slick from your pussy. He eagerly pulled off one of his gloves and placed it on the table. You jolted unexpectedly when he stuffed a thumb deep into your mouth, he pressed his weighted chest onto your smaller back—getting closer to you as he whispered, “Get it all wet and lubed up, it's for your own good, darling”, you were confused and oblivious to what he'd be needing his thumb for but obeyed him anyways, not wanting to make the big man angry.

You whirled your tongue around his finger, making sure to get as much spit on it as possible. After, you hummed, letting him know that you were done. He pulled his finger out, sticky drips of spit coating him. Your eyes widen with fear when you felt his fat thumb circling your virgin asshole, he spreads the spit all over the shy, fluttering hole before sinking it in little by little. “Fuck! Sir—please be gentle, never had anything in there!” You yelled as you cried out in pain of your untouched hole getting stretched out. He quickly picked up his glove and shoved it into your mouth when there were footsteps heard thumping outside the room. “For heaven's sake, please shut the fuck up or I’ll really kill someone. I'm not joking darling. You’re mine now and I won't let other eyes see what's mine” he said in a stern tone. He hissed lowly at the feeling of your asshole swallowing his whole thumb in, all the way to the hilt.

“Such a tight little asshole, M’honored I’ll be the first one to break open this pretty ass”. Your muffled cries got louder as he pounded his hefty cock harder into your pussy, making it gushing all over him as he fucked out more and more juices out of your body. Soon the pain turned into pleasure as he started wiggling his thumb inside of you, feeling it exploring your tight walls. Your moan grew sweeter and more fucked out as you felt your orgasm washing over you—his huge cock tip nudging against your G-spot bullyingly, making your mind hazy. He felt it—felt the way your pussy grew more wetter and tighter around his length, taking him in all the way in as he pants. “Fuck darling are you gonna cum? Go on baby, you can cum, cum all over my cock, you slut”. He ordered, letting his thumb hooked into your butthole as he uses three other fingers to rub wet circles around your clit.

You moaned out, standing on your tippy toes as you clenched both holes tighter around him, making him hiss as you squirted all over him—your filthy mess splattering all over his uniform and gear as he fucks more and more juices out of your dirty pussy. He groaned loudly as you made a mess all over him—he never had someone squirting on him before, so it drove him fucking crazy. He lands slap after slap on your ass cheeks—making the flesh red as you whimpered. “Such a messy little whore, you really squirted on a random man you don't even know? You really are a little slut, I'm definitely keeping you darling” he laughs out, feeling his orgasm following him. “I’m gonna stuff this cute little pussy so full of my seed, gonna drain it so deep inside you baby, it'll come out your mouth” The whole room reeked of sex as he towered over you, his massive cock snugly engulfed by your little pussy, so tight and warm for him. He moans louder, splitting out a few curses as he pulled out his thumb out of your ass, making your little hole wink at him at the loss of his finger. He used both hands to grip your hips, holding you steady as he used your body as a little fuckdoll, manhandling your little body to meet his cock halfway as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

“No please! Sir not insi-” Too late, hot ropes of warm sticky cum spurted into your poor hole, filling it up as your eyes roll back. “Fuckkk, ohh fuckk yesss, such a good little cumslut for me” he moaned out with ecstasy as he emptied into your warm pussy—after so long.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as he stilled himself into you. He bent over once again, his chest and gear touching your back as he whispered to you. “Don't worry sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you, will fucking kill anyone if they dare look in your direction. You'll be mine forever, pretty”.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Sirens touch~! (Kyle Garrick x male siren reader) 𓊝

WC:.2.1K

Tags: pwlp, anal sex, sex on a boat, monster x human, pheromones used as drugs, fish anatomy mentioned, bottom male reader, seduction themes, siren songs, handjobs, neck biting, blood mentioned 𓇼

A/N: this one is for @creepy141dollie hope Y’ like it, forgive if M’ descriptions of sirens are inaccurate, this was jus my thought process <33

Taglist: @kimisbunny @asher-is-hotxp @silvern1006 @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts

𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟𓆝𓆟𓆝

The air was fogged over and cold- rigidly so, you could almost taste the salt in the air when you breathed in the mist. Kyle wasn’t happy about this in the slightest, the moment price caught wind of makarov supposedly hiding somewhere across the sea, he had the whole task force on a ship on the ocean waters, that included Gaz too. Gaz walked around on the deck, he’d peek his head over the rails and stare into the nearly black abyss of water— god he could only imagine how cold that water must’ve been.

His eyes slowly widen when he sees something beneath the sheets of liquid, it was probably just a dumb fish swimming around. Garrick wasn’t made for the waters nor did he like them, sea sick was the only thing he ever got from it— and was that a person laying on that rock?…oh god the sea must be getting to him.

“I don’t see how sailors manage”

Gaz diverts his gaze to the passing soap, walking by and across the ship watching the other end- like what he was supposed to be doing but something felt off he couldn’t explain it, it all felt weird like bugs churning around in his stomach. He’d just cut it down to the waves giving him motion sickness.

“Are you gonna make it there gaz?”

He nearly jumps when ghost sneaks up on him standing behind him with his mask on letting his gaze pierce through the other male.

“You shouldn’t be so damn quiet- you’re gonna give someone a heart attack these days”

“Relax, I was just gonna ask if ye wanted to swap tasks- ye go to the lower deck N’ keep an eye out”

The man’s British accent creeping through his words only making Gaz sigh and nod, making his way down to the empty deck, his body felt a reaction the closer he got to the waters almost like something compelling him forwards. When the rock he had seen earlier came into view he could’ve sworn he saw a man with H/C hair laying there with a deep blue webbed ear. Before he knew it he felt his chest ache at that sight- why did he feel so much need over a man that probably was a figment of his lonesome imagination.

He leans against the rails, blinking once and frowning when he sees nothing on the rock, he almost feels sadness as the disappearance but before he can mourns it a hand is placed up on the ship from the loading area a few feet from him.

“Who’s there?!”

His voice rings empty in the fog, you slip your way up onto the deck while laying sprawled with a little grin. Tilting your head over almost like a curious cat— you weren’t used to not having your tail but you’d make having legs work. Gaz was practically lovestruck standing in his military gear and yet he felt just as defenseless as a common man before a gun.

“Aren’t you just a mean one?”

Your voice was angelic and he knew that you knew that, the way you slithered up on the deck like some serpent ready for its mean had him in a state of pure lust looking at you— Gaz was a weak man and the years of solitude without touch only made him weaker. Your prime prey, you liked a sweet man who was good at heart but had desperation— you could feed off the lust in his eyes alone.

Gaz started approaching you almost in a trance but you haven’t even used your song on him yet, this was pure free will.

“What the hell are you— a damn talking fish?”

“I’m not a damn fish— I’ll have you know I’m a siren”

You hiss your words at him growing irritated with it all, reaching your hand out to grasp hold of the man and pull him down with you having him beneath you on the deck. your body nude and cold from the see, your cock pressed flat down on your thighs while you click your tongue slowly tracing your cold fingers over his skin, humming your own siren song.

“Fuck, what the hell are you doing”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me, everyone wants me.”

Your hands grip his shoulders speaking statements not questions, your cock was stiffening up when his bulge pressed to your plush cheeks almost giving it a friendly greeting making you push back down against his clothed member, Gaz’s hands roam down grabbing your hips instinctively gripping at the flesh with vigor while he stares up at you in a glossy eyed trance watching how your hands slid off his shoulder down his vest and to his cargo pants, pulling them down with a thud when you undo his tack belt letting it fall on the deck.

Your nails were sharp and pointed leaving chills on his thighs when your nails graze over the tip of his cock having it all wet and coated in pre cum when you finally get it out of his boxers. Your eyes narrow slightly glowing under the dim fog of the late noon sky, the ship rocking back and forth against the waves having Gaz feeling completely under your spell when you hum against his ear and press your lips to the side of his neck.

“God you’re…”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment but his lips quivered and stopped, all men acted that way— you couldn’t count the number of sailors who uttered those exact words to you. Gaz felt different you didn’t want to lure him into a seductive demise, you actually wanted him all for yourself.

“I already knoww~”

you hush him silently with your lips pressed to his Adam’s apple rubbing your sharp teeth to the flesh feeling tempted to just take a bite out of him. Your hand plays with his cock stroking the base and rubbing your thumb flush against the under side of his tip, right where you knew it was most sensitive.

“O-h fuck you’re good at this”

Kyle’s moan comes out strangled like a half laugh when he takes a gulp for the first time in his military years feeling nervous by something that looks so frail, your skin practically glowed sticky from the salt in the sea having your damp body in his lap feeing your bare ass on his thighs making his half lidded eyes just stare at it, he only looks away when he feels the sharp pain in his neck— you just bit him?

“Mhm, you just taste good enough to eat”

“Oh fuuck”

His groan just make you smile having his blood over your teeth like a fresh candy coating making your slit pupils dilate, licking up the blood off his neck leaving him with the mark of a siren when you aim his cock between your wet cheeks, grinning at his expression when his eyes clamp shut from the cold feel of your skin pressing to his manhood. You rock your hips back and forth letting go of his cock and reaching up to his jaw and gripping it tight while you lay hunched over him pressing your bitter and blue lips to his mouth kissing him- making him taste his blood off your tongue while he lays on his back on the deck.

“You want this so bad don’t you?”

“…yes…”

He mumbles mindlessly under you just staring you blankly in the eyes, his lips sloppily responding to yours with your cock standing barely stiff leaning a small pearl of pre cum with your blue webbed ears looking almost like a fin when they flick back and forth in satisfaction. His cock head rubbing between your cheeks and all up and down your crack rubbing against your twitchy ring of muscles.

“Tell me you want inside me- tell me now”

“…I want you, I wanna be inside you so bad”

Your mouth nibbles at his neck some more littering it in red marks having blood smears on his skin while his hips buck up under you making you let go of his jaw when he hisses from how your nails dug into his skin. Gaz presses into you slowly pushing his way inside of your vice, being a siren producing pheromones and natural lubricant around your rim, your holes weee designed to take— you were a being of lust- a Adonis of sex in every way but the name.

“Fuckin, please-“

If it wasn’t for how desperate Gaz was in this moment he may have passed out of humiliation, he hated the way his voice cracked when he begged for you sitting desperate with his cock half inside you prodding its way into the bunny tavern trying to spread and spear you open on his dick, you sit in his lap having your mouth latched on his feeling his moans muffled by your tongue when you bite on his bottom lip leaving little drops of blood mixing into the shared spit.

“Think you may be the biggest man I’ve taken in a very long time sailor”

You lift your hips up and slowly lower them back down on him while you let your hand find its way to his shoulders digging your nails through his gear and clawing a hole in the back of his shirt leaving marks on his rich skin. Your rim milks out the pre cum from his mushroomed head having his hands trembling on your hips while he pushes his spit down your throat.

“I’m not a damn sailor— I’m a captain”

His words come out strangled beneath you when he pulls his lips, tearing them away only to gasp for air. Your nails dig harder letting out soft moans when his cock rubs your prostate just right making you feel warm shrills up your spine having you feeling in a state of euphoria when you ride the man.

Your eyes creep back and you grow slicker around his cock taking it with ease, Gaz lets out heaved gasps beneath you. Not having fucked anything in a few solid years due to his job, his orgasm is on edge but he does his best to hold back not wanting to come too quick but boy if your insides weren’t practically begging it out of him right now.

“Stop or I’ll—“

Before he can even finish his sentence your hand creeps up off his back and over his mouth hushing his groans when you feel his cock start pulsing inside you reaching his high and flooding your insides with his semen leaving a warm feeling inside your ice cold body.

“Now you’re gonna be good and help me get off right?”

“Y-yes ofcourse”

He nods his head when you hum your song to him not even giving him time to come down from his orgasm when you remove your hand off his mouth and reach to the hand off your hips when you guid it down to your hardened cock, letting out a hiss when he touches the base. Gaz slowly starts stroking your cock and giving it a firm touches under your tip.

He starts stroking your cock a little faster gripping the base with your cock leaking a mess in his palm having you instinctively pushing your hips back down on his cock with the semen inside

“I’m getting close”

Gaz starts stroking your cock faster making you arch your back getting closer to edge with his hand snaking off your hips to your ass giving it a squeeze in time with his strokes. Pre cum starts oozing drink you all down your shaft making a mess when your voice cracks and your orgasm rushes over you, you grip his shoulders tight with your

“Oh fuck—“

“What is it fishy? You’re actin like this is your first orgasm”

You sneer down at him frowning when he says that, ropes of thin liquid shoots from your tip leaving stains on his gear. Your chest raises and falls rapidly practically glowing with your eyes rolling forwards to look down at him under you, sitting on top of him on the ship, you slowly raise up off of Gaz, semen starts oozing out of you and onto the ships deck, your rim twitches all puffy.

Before Garrick could even say anything to you, you were gone. The water flashed and it was like you were an imagination? Your figure lurked under the water then disappeared into the fog, sirens were never known to stick to one prey forever.

“Gaz? Mate what’re you doin?!”

There stood a flabbergasted soap, his mouth agape standing next to price with their eyes focused on a ruin captain kyle Garrick ‘Gaz’ laying covered in come with his pants around his ankles laying on his back, his cock limp and his eyes lidded clearly worn out.

[namelessgakusei]

Ruler Of My Heart

Mark Grayson x Reader

Warnings: Death, Violence, Manipulation, Mentions of Invincible War

Notes: Gaku torturing Mark. Watch Alien Stage (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Synopsis: Variant!Reader arrives just after the Invincible War, inciting trauma to Mark who recently lost you.

"Make me your god, I can give you everything."

This wasn't meant to happen.

You weren't supposed to die like this.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N) stay with me...! Please!"

He thought you were safe. He thought that you got away. He told you to go! Damn it, don't close your eyes!

Mark thought about flying to the hospital, to get you treated, but the way you grasped his suit made him hesitate. You were saying something but he can't hear it due to the blood rushing in his ears. His mouth opened to speak but all he could do was let out a sob as he held your hand close to his face.

"Please... I can't lose you."

Your last moment is kissing Mark, your bloodied lips leaving a mark on his' as you lay limp.

The war lasted for three days. A lot of heroes died, cities were decimated, and people were hurt, all because of those doppelgangers who made a deal with Angstrom.

Mark felt numb during the funerals, he feels like it's all his fault. Because he held back, because he doesn't want to kill, because of that... you aren't here anymore.

He can't even look at your casket.

During the reconstruction, people were understandably wary of him, too traumatized of the recent debacle. He wishes you were there to tell him that everything will be okay, that it'll pass and he's still the hero [Title Card].

A call from Cecil about an unidentified object en route to Earth snapped him out of his pity party, now looking forward to beat the fool who dared to choose his planet. No more Mr. Nice Guy, he'll kill whoever tries to harm the people he loves.

He found a marble white ship floating by the Pacific Ocean, unmoving but he can hear the faint the whirring of machinery. Prying what he can grab open, Mark readied his fist with a snarl towards the intruder but stopped short at the sight.

There you are, unconscious and dressed in white clothes that made you look regal, just like how he remembers.

But you're dead. Who the hell is this??

Initially, he thought that it was a Thraxan who shapeshifted into your likeness like how Nuolzot did with Seance Dog. He was rightfully enraged once the shock passed. Is this a sick joke? How dare they impersonate you?!

But then you wake up and called his name, confirming that this is real. You are real.

"Mark?"

Mark took you home in a heartbeat. It was a foolish decision, really. Who in their right mind would bring home someone who looks exactly like their dead crush? Definitely not him.

Perhaps it was the clarity that came after, when Mark started panicking. Who are you??? Why do you look and act and...

Why do you look at him like how they used to?

Mark needed answers and you're surprisingly cooperative. Then your story starts to get too familiar. You literally retold your whole life story just as he remembers it. Is it really you? Did you somehow survived? No, he saw you die. How did this happen? Some magic or space-time bullshit?

Mark doesn't care, not when you look at him like he's the most important person in the world, not when you smell the same when he buries his nose to your neck, not when you card your fingers through his hair and laugh just how he loves it.

Ah... You're back.

Mark ignores the warnings that his friends tell him. You're not dangerous! You're you! You're back, so what's the deal, Eve?? Oliver, they're not an enemy, stop arguing with him. You agree with me right, Mom?

Even Debbie finds you suspicious. She saw the funeral and saw you get lowered to the ground, so who is this person who wears a mask of your face? She tried talking Mark out of it but he doesn't listen, begging her to understand that you're just disoriented from the previous events.

Mark remembers how he failed to confess his feelings to you back then, and it became one of his many regrets over the days following your death. But it doesn't matter! You're here now and he'll be damned if he doesn't shoot his shot. With clammy hands and a nervous voice, he asked you out in one of your favorite places, hoping for the best that you'll accept.

Holy shit, you did. Well, more like you were confused as to why he's confessing since you two were together since the start, yeah?

What the hell, sure.

You were clingy, always wanting to be near him every second of the day, not that he minds, he's as clingy as you. You kept littering his face with sloppy kisses, marking him while mumbling that he's yours. Whenever someone gets too close or if he spends too much time with someone else, you're dragging him away for a cuddle session regardless of the situation. Okay, a bit too clingy, but it's fine! Mark lets you do whatever you want to him, partly because he doesn't want to upset you in any way and he's still reeling over the fact that he saw you die.

He loves it when you sing to him before you two sleep, he didn't knew you have such a calming voice. You should be a singer or something! You only chuckle and press a kiss on his forehead at the comment, knowing full well that it's what your job is back in the Viltrumite Empire.

You are an entertainer, someone who sings to provide enjoyment to the people under the Empire. Despite your occupation, you hold quite the power, after all, it was you who handed Earth over to the Viltrumites. You don't understand why your Mark snapped at you for joining the enemy. Why wouldn't you? Shouldn't he also join them? They're his own species! Sure, he's half-human, but Humanity hold no flame against the might of the Viltrumites. It's better to join them than fight, so why is he leading the rebellion?

While you climbed the ranks within the Empire, Mark's down on Earth, battling the agents sent to eradicate the rest of the rebels. If only he snaps out of it and finally comes to his senses. It's pointless! If he just accepts how things are, he can join the Empire! With your influence, he can even live a life of luxury, free of stress from fighting!

But he just had to be stubborn, doesn't he? You love that about Mark too. His resiliency, his kindness, his nobleness— you love everything about him. Aahh, if only he comes back to you... Maybe you can arrange it for him to be your bodyguard when he gets caught? The Viltrumites adore you, so they'll probably agree if you press the issue hard enough.

...Mark just got to die, doesn't he? You look beyond the glass from your room as the slaves bring in his body. A Viltrumite suggested that they let you see him one last time before he gets disposed off, since you kept begging for him to be brought to you. He just got to be stubborn in the end, doesn't he? He said he loved you, so why does he have to go and leave you alone?! Why does he have to protect the people who were ungrateful for his service since the start?! Why did he left you for them? Why? Why??

You don't let it affect your performance. You give the Viltrumites what they want while you wallow in your sadness inside your room. No matter how many gifts you receive from them can make you genuinely happy like you were when you're with Mark. Will this continue forever? Will you just survive?

Then Angstrom Levy appeared in your dimension, it was a mistake on his part, not knowing that the Mark of your world is already dead. When he fled by the strand of his hair after he got jumped by Viltrumite guards, you saw his ability. Portals? ...Of course!

If you can't have Mark here, you'll just have to find another.

And so, you proposed the existence of other dimensions to your masters, baiting them with the prospect of expanding the empire. Gullible idiots. It's a wonder how a mere human like you got this far but you're not going to question it.

It took some time, but they managed to recreate Angstrom's ability. It can only activate for a few seconds and it's unknown whether it really works and opens up in another version of Earth, so everyone's a bit reluctant about volunteering.

Not you, though. This is your chance of finding Mark again! If you die along the way, it doesn't matter! Living without him is death already!

They didn't took you seriously when you asked to be the test subject, saying that you're too fragile and that you better get back to your room since you'll be performing later. Your expression might've done the trick, since you saw some of them flinch. So much for being called an "empire".

That leads you to where you are now, with Mark in your lap, practically purring from how your pet his hair. It's adorable. You'll keep him when the Empire arrives the conquer this dimension, perhaps Debbie and Oliver too, to keep him company. All you need to do is activate the signal in this dimension to secure the connection back in your home, then you'll truly be together.

Unfortunately, you need to repair your ship that Mark previously wrecked, and the GDA has it for investigation. Cecil told Mark that it has traces of Viltrumite engineering but he believed you when you said that you know nothing about it. It's not entirely a lie, you don't have much knowledge about how your ship was constructed, but he drank your words like you're incapable of lying. Try all you want, old man, you can't separate us now.

Your requests are questionable at times, machines that you shouldn't know of is what you ask of Mark, and when he tries to ask about it, you only bat your eyes and insist that it's a surprise. He'd like that yes?

Maybe he should've heeded everyone's warnings. Maybe he should've been more logical. He should've known that you weren't the you he loved.

You only cup his cheeks and smile knowingly, like you had won a war you didn't participated in.

The Viltrumites from your dimension invaded his Earth, bringing the all familiar bloodbath with them. Mark was easily overpowered by the stronger soldiers, the difference in skill and power is evident from their varying experiences. And you, you stand atop the ruined city, untouched by the carnage you brought, looking at him with that innocent face.

He should've known. Those pure white clothes, that calm expression, the change in personality— Mark chose to ignore it, no, you fed on his delusions. You're a variant.

It's his fault all over again. He let you in, he protected you, deluded himself that you're the same person.

What's the matter, you ask, as you practically sauntered over him. He wants to glare, to clench his fists and pummel you to the ground for betraying him, for destroying his world, but he can't. Not when you look exactly like them. When he can see a glimpse of them on your face, your expression, your voice, your smile—

They don't smile like that.

Something in Mark snapped and he lunged forward, hands snaking around your neck as his fists landed on your face. He grits his teeth as he beats you up, his mind going overdrive as he sees himself beating the you of his universe. The you who died in his arms all those weeks ago. How dare you play with his heart like that! He loved you! You...

He stops with a gasp as he looked at what he'd done. A broken, bloody nose, a busted lip, and the deranged grin on your face.

Mark was pulled away by some Viltrumite Soldiers by then, pinned to the ground as they retaliate for him beating up their beloved pet. Before they could kill him, and before you could plead for his sparing, multiple ReAnimen swooped in to save him.

Amidst the smoke, you saw a glimpse of Eve carrying a battered Mark as she flies away.

[cassiesversion]

Beach proposal

Pairing : Spencer Reid

Warnings : None ! (Slight mention of stress)

Summary : Reader and Spencer go on a vacation together. They take a walk along the ocean but maybe this walk had been Spencer’s plan the entire time. Why? He’s going to propose !

Type : fluff

Details : Established relationship, words of affirmation, CM-AU, female reader, no mention of Y/N

WC : ≈ 887 words

————————

It was finally August.

The sun was shining bright and the birds were chipping, the trees outside of your shared house were showing off their green leaves and you were granted a week off work.

Basically, life never felt better.

Well actually, it felt even better when Spencer told you he had booked a hotel room in Liapades in Greece for the two of you.

After twenty minutes of processing the information, you hastily prepared three suitcases, one for each of you and the third one for every single souvenir you're going to buy in Greece. (Lord knows how many there's gonna be).

It has been so long since you and Spencer got to spend time together, without being distracted by work. You crammed in every night when Spencer got home but it was never enough. It's safe to say that this vacation will be a huge relief.

What you didn’t know, is that for Spencer it wasn’t just a simple vacation.

It’s so much more.

—————

Now.

You’re walking around the beach, the cool breeze waves in your hair and across your face.

Both yours and Spencer’s hands are intertwined and even though he’s lost in one of his usual ramblings, you can tell something is off.

“And this is why the Red Sea carries its name. But what’s truly interesting is that…” he goes on. You look at him and this is where his words drift off to little sounds in the background, meddling with the timid ruffling of the water you’re walking next to.

His eyes always lighting up when he rambles seem to deal with something deep that he hasn’t dared to share with you yet. Which is why you hold his hand tighter.

Spencer’s eyes softly look at you for a second before looking back in front of him. You frown but quickly mask it as he finishes his story about the Red Sea.

Once he’s done, you squeeze his hand gently to catch his attention.

“Mhm?” Spencer looks at you again.

“You okay? You seem distracted.” But he doesn’t reply, he simply takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Spence?”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking about work… I’m sorry” he says, looking apologetic enough. He’s fast to look away and stops walking. You come to a halt as well.

“Work? Here? In Greece, with this beautiful landscape before us?” You chuckle.

Spencer looks at you and takes another huge breath, as if somehow there wasn’t any oxygen left in his lungs.

Concern etches your face. “Spencer you’re scaring me, what’s going on?”

“I… I love you so much…” He takes your hands.

You frown once more. “I know… I love you too. Where is this coming from?”

Spencer gathers his courage and takes you in his arms.

“I love you so much it hurts. Like… my chest gets tighter every time I think of the future because it scares me to think that I’m going to crave for a family with you… hell I already do. I want everything with you. But what if… my job comes in the way or… if… my genes…”

He shakes his head before continuing. “I know it’s probably irrational but nothing seems to be rational with you. You make my brain freeze in ways I’ve never experienced before. And it feels so nice to not be overwhelmed by daunting thoughts and only rely on thoughts of you, of your smile, of your voice. I want everything with you, the late night confessions, the grocery shoppings just the two of us, the historical movie dates, and the museum ones.”

His voice cracks and he holds your tighter “I love the way you braid my hair when you’re bored or how you ask me to read to you while clinging to me when you’re tired or how you take care of me when I’m sick. And if you’d let me, I’d devote myself to spend my life trying to make you happy. I want nothing more than you cherish you.”

Soft tears spill from his eyes “I never thought family could resume itself to one person… before I met you. And I’m so thankful for everything that has happened between us. You’re… You’re the most precious creation this world has ever beared and the most breathtaking girlfriend any man could’ve ever had. So please…”

He gently lets go of you and kneels, his hand meets his pocket and he pulls out a velvety box. Your entire body is shaking and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes.

“Please… give me the honor of being the one I’ll call my wife. Be mine to love and adore for eternity, until death do us apart. Marry me.”

You drop to your knees, catching a sob and hugging him tightly. You nod rapidly. “Yes. Yes yes yes.”

He’s quick to hug you back, his sobs escaping as well.

“I want to be your wife.”

He pulls back only to slide the ring on your finger. It fits you perfectly, the same way your heart fits next to Spencer’s.

You two lock eyes, and this is it. Your fiance, the love of your life, looking at you in a way that reveals more than words could’ve ever said.

This is the relief you needed.

Pure happiness.

You and Spencer are engaged.

——————

Thank you for reading this !!

Just so you know, English isn’t my first language, I hope that was good 😭

PS : this is my dream proposal ! I wanted you guys to share my cravings !!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Larks and Being Sick

Cole

Will still try to push themself to perform, but even they have their limits

Conks the hell out when they’re sick, and they’ll sleep for hours (Perrine thought they died once)

Loses their voice. Thinks they’ll never be able to sing again.

Hand tremors won’t let them play their instrument

Gets flustered easily with a lot of affection and care (like if they have to be spoon fed because they’re too weak to hold a bowl themself)

Tries to deter cuddles because they don’t want to get anyone else sick

Emetophobic, and ends up making themself more sick by stressing out over possibly throwing up

Clementine

Super cuddly when they’re sick (usually SOMEONE gets sick after them because they were cuddling)

Mainly because they get really bad chills, so they just want to snuggle up to someone to keep warm

Quiet and mumbly

However, they will ramble deliriously when their fever gets too high

PILED with blankets (which Perrine will have to confiscate so they don’t get overheated, much to their dismay)

Kingsley

A big whiny baby when he’s sick

SUPER overdramatic

“I’M DYING!!!” “You have a cold.”

There’s sometimes a little bit of a “boy who cried wolf” situation with him, where he dramatizes how sick he is, but the others would never leave him to fend for himself, even after all the stuff he pulls for fun

When he has to be spoon fed because he’s too weak from the sickness, he’ll somehow find the strength to make a joke like “chop, chop, peasant!” (Perrine once considered pouring the water she was helping him drink over him)

When he’s really sick, he’s super lethargic, and it’s jarring to see him so worn out when he’s usually the most energetic in the group

Likes to lay his head into the lap of one of the others so they’ll play with his hair, soothing him

Will sometimes force himself into the lap of one of the others (mainly Perrine because she’s the big sibling of the group)

Perrine

Hates being taken care of, so she will act like she’s perfectly fine (she’s not)

Will refuse any and all help until she physically can’t move anymore—and even then, she’ll be stubborn

Pulls out the “but I’m the oldest!” card whenever anyone tries to take care of her

“You’re sick.” “No, I’m not.” “You’re burning up.” “I’m naturally warm.” “You’re shaking.” “It’s just a little cold.” “You literally just threw up.” “I meant to do that.”

She worries about the others when she’s sick in bed. What if something happens? What if they burn the house down while cooking?

Cuddly when she’s ill, but she doesn’t go out of her way to ask for any affection. However, she certainly won’t refuse any…

Easily becomes a little stir crazy from laying in bed. She also gets bored fast. She’s wasting so much time just laying around!

Wears her mask 24/7 to hide how pale and flushed she is from fever (the mask is making her sweat bullets)

Once threw up on stage and then passed out mid-performance because she underestimated how bad she felt (everyone was in a state of shock. she had to be dragged offstage by Cole and Clementine while Kingsley distracted the crowd)

Another time she was making breakfast for the group and fainted, and when she woke up, she was covered in oatmeal from managing to bring the bowl down with her

Would rather starve or die of dehydration than have one of the others spoon feed her

One time, ALL of the kids were sick at once, but Perrine pushed through it to take care of the others (she felt like death after, but anything for her friends)

[zillychu]

hi hello looks at the tags of ur recent act 5 sif art. i wld LOVE to hear more about the stress level mechanic you mentioned if you perhaps wanna ramble about it 👉👈

I kept putting off answering this ask forever bc I wanted to finish the idea it came with, but idk when that will happen so here we go!

This was a game mechanic I thought of while refining an idea for a hypothetical sequel (two actually, for a trilogy), where Siffrin essentially remains OP as hell. But this does not actually make things easier.

Ramblings about the distress level mechanic, and story thoughts under the cut! This contains spoilers!

Re: In Stars and Wind

(get it. re: because it's a sequel. and also re:wind. wind is important. and there are no loops but Sif rewinds. god I'm so funny)

[[ Act I, part I ]]

Starts as a slow, cute holiday where the player gets to control different party members for each part of the story for different points of view and inner thoughts, to get a better feel of where everyone is emotionally.

Now in Bambouche, the party is traveling together, the atmosphere very much a relaxed and welcomed vacation. We see some of the new, but very mild conflict they have to juggle–how everyone has different opinions on handling their exploding fame, different ideas on where to go next… acclimating to Siffrin’s new demeanor and ailments. 

It's nothing terrible! Siffrin is more susceptible to Crafting sickness now, like an old injury that's fully healed but can get sore easily. Using Craft normally tends to mean lingering fatigue, maybe a nap or two. Heavier usage, and he gets body aches and fevers. 

He's also…different, now. They all know, they understand, they take it all in genuine stride. It's just a bit bumpy when Siffrin brings up something he shouldn't know, references things that never happened, still instinctively reaches for their knife or looks for easy ways to die when they feel cornered. Sometimes he gets unreasonably scared in battle, sometimes unreasonably scary. His power fluctuates from lv.1 to lv.999 (wait, wasn't the level cap supposed to be 99?)

Odile and Isa are the first ones seen discussing how odd that is. They saw those after-images of him running through the House on his own, they know he's strong. Much stronger than anyone could be even with years of fighting Sadness. (How long was Siffrin trapped in those loops, anyway?) Hell, he had the power to become something akin to a god.

They chalk up his moments of weakness to Craft Sickness, perhaps even a new and lingering disorder. They're not worried about it being a bother, they're just worried about what it could mean for him. They've brought it up before, but Sif also looked a bit confused and would say he just felt weak and tired for some reason. They think maybe his ridiculous power back then was only there due to the Wish Craft that no longer exists–maybe they're blowing things out of proportion.

Though all in all, everyone is happy! They're all together, seeing new places, becoming closer. 

At the end, they have a campfire picnic at night. It's then that everyone solidifies they're family now, and Sif is struck by how similar it all feels to that night. The night he wished he had back. He breaks down into tears and they try to comfort him, but he's happy. He tells them about that night now lost in the loops, how everything went right that day. Everyone laughs and cries and it's full and bright, their little campfire shining like a star in the night. They all love, and they're all loved. 

[[ Act I, part II ]]

Despite all the warmth. Despite all the joy and progress they've all made. 

Siffrin is still hiding something. 

Back in purely Sif's POV, we find out there's much, much more to his condition than everyone realizes. 

He struggles with keeping his masks in order, some of them popping up against his will. He doesn't have multiple personalities, but he is a bit more extreme with his personas. He tries to be Siffrin, the rogue, the traveler, the friend. But he's also Siffrin, who endured over a year stuck in a time loop, who aged what feels like eons, whose power now rivals a god's and can barely contain his extreme reactions to distress, to knowing or even thinking his family is in danger.

Sometimes, during a fight, he thinks a Sadness hit a friend a bit too hard–and he eviscerates it, gaze too dead and too cold and he can see the way his allies freeze up. Can see their uncertainty, their waiting fear (just like that time). Thankfully, he can shake it off once he notices they're safe, and they relax when he's “back to normal" easy enough. 

But it isn't just battles when this can happen. Sometimes even doing the simplest most mundane thing can slowly slip the contentment off his face (even if he's still happy!), or habitually slip into masking too hard with unnervingly fake smiles. Sometimes he'll simply order some food only to find the shopkeep staring at him warily.

But that's okay. He's used to acting. His family tells him he doesn't need to do that, that he shouldn't hide anymore. But this isn't the same, is it? He really is happy, he's just covering up some weird muscle memory that'll disappear in time. This is a good thing, actually! He's being more honest this way! Right? 

Like he's being “honest” about the Time and Wish Craft irrevocably etched into his soul now. He's not lying, he really does get Craft Sickness easily now! It's just. It's maybe not all coming from his “injury" of overusing Craft and nearly destroying the world. Not entirely. But that's part of it, so he's not lying! 

(Lying by omission is still lying. Stupid. Useless. Don't you ever learn? When will you learn? Can you learn? Why do you keep repeating the same mistakes–)

They're not the same mistakes though! He's getting better at talking to his friends, letting them know when he needs help. He's changing he's changed too much go back go back go back just like they are!

He knows he needs to tell them if something big happens. And he will! He'd never get trapped in a another time loop and not trust them enough to avoid relying on them. He knows now how much it hurts to see a loved one shoulder so much pain when you can be there to help split the burden.

But what's going on is nothing. It's silly! It's just him being silly. There's no reason to tell them about something they'll probably get all worked up over when it's really not that big of a deal. Friends don't tell friends absolutely everything, they've all admitted as much too! Sometimes you do have to balance little white lies, little secrets. Pick and choose which battles to share, which to keep personal. 

So it's really not that big of a deal! He's figuring out why his body still innately uses Time Craft sometimes and he rewinds the world a bit. 

Okay. Okay that sounds so much worse than it is. Really! He's not stuck in a loop anymore, he doesn't rewind whole days. He'll just. Sometimes he'll get hurt, or really scared, or really upset and the world kinda. Blinks back a few minutes, or hours. Back before the thing that caused him distress. 

They don't need to know about that. It's no big deal. Nothing has ever changed drastically anyway (Bonnie would have just gotten scuffed up falling down that hill, that stomach wound Odile sustained could have been easily healed, Isa would have recovered from a broken fractured leg, Mira could have dealt with that overzealous fan herself) 

It wasn't like he watched them die again again again, he didn't die, the world wasn't ending. Everything was fine!

Did that weird cat just talk. 

[Gameplay changes from here, traveling from town A to town B. There are still a lot of Sadness roaming about, you save a couple people, etc etc]

[[End of Act I]]

[GAMEPLAY DIFFERENCES]

Everything is the same, but has additional statuses now!

Buffs and debuffs have two levels, normal (1 level) and critical (2 levels)

In addition to HP, there's now distress (DL= distress level)

Distress increases with: 

Battle duration

Damage taken (healing proportionally reverses this) (lower HP = bigger increase)

Allies getting hit with Criticals

Allies getting low on HP

New enemy attacks that inflict negative emotions

Distress decreases with: 

Healing

Shields and buffs 

New distress-specific items

New neutral Craft ability: Breathe

Resets to 0 after battle victory

Effects of distress:

When personal distress hits a certain percentage, allies gain certain debuffs and/or buffs (intentionally made to show stress can be beneficial, up to a point)

20%: ATK/DEF/ATKSPD up (1)

40%: ATK/ATKSPD up (1), DEF down critically (2) (most mob fights stop around here)

60%: ATK up (1), DEF/ATKSPD down critically (2)

80%: ATK/DEF/ATKSPD down critically (2)

100%: Cannot act. Essentially frozen, can only be decreased with specific items/skills or battle end.

Siffrin only: 

As personal distress increases, the chance increases that Siffrin loses control of his strength, dealing massive damage 1.5x above a Critical, but at a cost. These are called Overclocked attack/Crafts (haha, get it?)

Overclocked attack: Hits all enemies and your party, lowering HP (including yourself)

Overclocked Craft: Increases both ally and enemy stress (including yourself)

80%: Act 5 Siffrin unlocked. Sprite permanently changed until distress is lowered under 50%. All attacks/Crafts are now Overclocked, and he only has DEF down critically. Allies gain distress 1.5x faster.

100%: Unleashes Wish Craft immediately (regardless of turn order), dealing massive damage to all enemies and allies, and brings HP down to 1. Gains special “Craft Sickness" status, where all stats are down critically for the remainder of the battle. 

This state is Siffrin instinctively attempting to go full bigfrin, but non-fatally stabs themself to keep their mind grounded :)

(You eventually obtain equips and/or Craft skills that minimizes the backlash of Siffrin's Overclocked hits and Wish Craft, making it a viable strategy to intentionally distress him. This has an effect on the story! It's not healthy to burn yourself out to achieve more in life, stop that.)

And that's all I have for now! I'm not sure if/when I'll get the urge to finish things up, but I have a super rough draft. Can you guess what the weird talking cat is about? :) Teehee

[fckwritersblock]

Something More…

Jinwoo Sung x Black Reader

Description: Drabble. Unedited AF. No real plot, it kind of just starts. A piece I was debating on whether or not I should turn this into something more but for now this is what I got.

A/n: I’ve been in my anime bag heavy lately and I just started bingeing solo leveling since I’ve been sick the past few days. Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling angsty. Anywho enjoy

---

“Fuck me?!” Jinwoo exclaimed, disbelief etched on his face as he stormed out of his room, hot on your heels.

“Yes! Fuck you, Jinwoo!” You shot back, eyes blazing with anger. You pivoted sharply, jabbing a finger at him, each step you took toward him echoing with the weight of their unresolved issues. “You think I’m jealous of your newfound success? As if I’m the one who’s been blowing you off and acting different—”

“All of a sudden your the victim” Jinwoo interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he crossed his arms defensively, desperately trying to shield himself from the confrontation., trying to mask his own insecurities with bravado.

“Kiss my ass, Jinwoo! I’ve never needed somebody to come and save me!” Your voice was low and fierce, teeth clenched as you hastily shoved items into your duffle bag, the fabric crumpling under the pressure of you frustration. Each piece you packed felt like a part of your friendship being discarded.

“I knew it, I knew you always thought I was weak. That I needed you to save me. Without Y/n, poor helpless Jinwoo would be—”

“Oh, go to hell!” Your voice rose, filled with raw emotion. “That’s never been me and you know it. Who has had your back the entire time? Who has done everything in their power to make sure you come back to your sister alive? Me! Who has encouraged you, pushed you to see how bright you shine in the world before you even became…” you flailed her hands, searching for the right words, “whatever the hell you are now? Me! And you have the nerve to make it seem like your new found power is my problem?!”

“I didn’t mean—” Jinwoo tried to backtrack, the realization of his words crashing down on him as he saw the hurt swirling in your eyes.

“Yes, the fuck you did!” You practically screamed, her voice breaking with emotion. “I couldn’t figure out why you’d been so distant, so cold. Even now you’re standing there trying to hurt me. Me! But now I see it’s because I’m not constantly stroking your ego!”

“Y/n,” he pleaded, reaching for you, but you recoiled, your anger a shield around your heart. Jinwoo wanted to de-escalate the situation, but it was too far gone.

“I’ve always been in your corner, Jinwoo! I’ve always been your biggest fan!” Your voice trembled, the raw vulnerability beneath your anger breaking through the surface. “ Somehow you’ve become this power hungry hunter who won a little bit of attention from some girl and you let it change everything! I always thought we’d… I thought we meant something more.” You paused, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat, fighting to keep your composure. “But I know better now. As much as I want to blame you for making me feel…making me believe, I fucking knew. I always knew, I was foolish to think you could ever love me the way that I love you.”

The confession hung in the air like a heavy fog, and Jinwoo froze, the weight of your words crashing over him like a tidal wave. He hadn’t prepared for this moment, and the paralysis of shock rooted him to the spot. His mouth opened, but no words came—he couldn’t even move as you snatched your keys from the counter, your expression a mask of pain and fury as you gave him one last look before turning to leave.

“Y/n, wait!” he finally managed to stammer, but you were already out the door, slamming it behind you with a force that reverberated through the stillness of the apartment.

Silence enveloped him, the chaos of the argument replaced by a deafening void. He remained rooted to the spot, his heart racing as disbelief and guilt waged war within him. He could hear the soft sound of footsteps approaching and turned to see his little sister, Jinah, standing in the doorway, her expression a mix of disappointment and concern.

“Oppa… you screwed up,” she said softly, the weight of her words sinking deep into him.

“Yeah, Jinah… I screwed up,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, the gravity of his actions settling heavily on his shoulders. He felt like he had lost not just a friend, but a part of himself, leaving him hollow and yearning for a chance to make things right.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Rest is the Mission

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sick Reader

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy, I wrote this because I’m sick right now and feel like crap sooooooo enjoy :) I don’t know if I would label it a Poly fic go it’s gonna be with the boys

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

You’d felt it creeping up on you for days—a scratchy throat, a dull ache behind your eyes, and a fatigue that weighed heavier each morning. But you brushed it off. A cold wasn’t going to stop you. Not when your team needed you.

It wasn’t until today’s training session that the sickness became impossible to ignore. Each step felt like trudging through quicksand, and your vision blurred as sweat beaded on your forehead. You pushed forward, determined not to falter, until your foot caught on uneven ground and you stumbled.

A strong hand caught your arm. You blinked up to see Price, his piercing gaze scanning your flushed face.

“Right, that’s enough,” he said firmly. “Out with it. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you croaked, your voice betraying you. “Just a little tired.”

Price’s expression darkened. “Don’t lie to me, love. You’re burning up.” He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead and let out a low whistle. “Bloody hell, you’ve got a fever. Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“I can handle it,” you protested weakly.

“Handle it?” Soap’s voice cut in as he approached, eyebrows raised. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck, lass. You’re handling nothing but bedrest from now on.”

Before you could argue, Ghost appeared silently at your side. His gloved hand replaced Price’s on your forehead. He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“You’re a liability to yourself like this,” he said bluntly. “Get to bed before you collapse. I’m not dragging your sorry arse off the floor.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though even to your own ears, the words sounded pathetic.

“Enough.” Price’s tone brooked no argument. “Soap, take her to her quarters. Gaz, get some water and medicine. Ghost, you’re with me—we’ll cover her workload for the day.”

Before you knew it, Soap was steering you back to your room, his arm a steadying presence. “You’re lucky we like you, hen,” he teased, though his eyes were soft with concern. “Otherwise, I’d leave you to learn your lesson the hard way.”

By the time you were tucked into bed, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, making it impossible to argue further.

---

The next few hours were a blur of fever dreams and muffled voices. Each time you stirred, one of them was there.

Price sat by your bedside, a warm mug of tea in his hands. “Drink,” he ordered gently, his tone softer than you’d ever heard. He waited patiently, his steady presence grounding you as you sipped.

Soap was a constant whirlwind of energy, refusing to let the atmosphere grow too heavy. “Y’know, I once caught a cold on a mission in Siberia,” he said, perched on the edge of your bed. “Nearly froze my arse off. Thought I’d lose my nose to frostbite.” His exaggerated tales pulled weak chuckles from you, and he grinned, satisfied.

Ghost was quieter, but no less attentive. He lingered in the corner of your room, his masked face unreadable, but his actions spoke volumes. He adjusted your blankets when you tossed them off, refilled your water without being asked, and made sure the room stayed cool to help bring down your fever. Once, you woke to find him sitting on the floor beside your bed, his hand resting lightly on your arm. The touch was brief, but it sent a wave of comfort through you.

And then there was Gaz, the self-proclaimed team medic for the day. He bustled in and out, armed with medicine and a determined expression. “Take these,” he instructed, handing you a handful of pills. When you hesitated, his brow furrowed. “Don’t make me pin you down, because I will.” His fierce protectiveness made you smile, and you took the medicine without further protest.

---

You’d hoped the worst was over, but as you sat up to sip the tea Price offered, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you. The room spun, and nausea coiled tight in your stomach. You barely managed to set the mug down before leaning over the side of the bed.

“Easy, easy,” Price said quickly, his large hand resting on your back. He steadied you as you breathed heavily, fighting against the rising bile in your throat.

“Soap, get a bucket!” Price barked, his commanding tone snapping Soap out of his half-asleep state.

“On it!” Soap scrambled to his feet and darted out of the room, returning moments later with a small bin. He handed it off to Price, who placed it in your lap just in time for you to heave into it.

“Shh, you’re alright,” Price murmured, rubbing slow circles on your back. “Let it out, love. You’ll feel better soon.”

The nausea subsided after a few minutes, leaving you trembling and exhausted. Price set the bin aside, careful not to spill it, and handed you a damp cloth to wipe your mouth.

“Sorry,” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

“None of that,” Price replied firmly. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. We’re here for you.”

Soap crouched beside the bed, his brows drawn in concern. “Poor thing. Looks like it’s hitting you harder than we thought.” He reached for your hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Don’t worry—we’ll get you through this.”

Ghost silently pressed a cold compress to your forehead, his gloved hand steady. The coolness was a relief, but the pounding behind your eyes continued, relentless and sharp.

“Headache?” Gaz asked, his voice soft.

“Bad,” you whispered.

“Alright. Painkillers it is,” he said, heading for the door.

When he returned, he coaxed you into taking the pills with a few sips of water. “Good. Now close your eyes and rest,” he instructed.

---

The pounding in your head eased slightly as the day wore on, and the nausea subsided into a dull ache. Each time you woke, one of them was there—Price’s steady voice soothing you, Soap’s jokes lightening the mood, Ghost’s silent care easing the worst moments, and Gaz’s gentle persistence ensuring you stayed hydrated and medicated.

When you finally woke the next morning, the sunlight no longer felt harsh, and your stomach was calm. You looked around to see all four of them still there—Price in a chair by the door, Soap curled up on the floor, Ghost leaning against the wall, and Gaz sprawled on the edge of your bed.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you whispered, “Thanks, guys.”

Price stirred, his sharp eyes meeting yours. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” you admitted.

“Good,” he said, standing and stretching. “But don’t think for a second you’re jumping back into work. You’re on bedrest until we say otherwise.”

Soap cracked an eye open and grinned. “Aye, we’ll pamper you whether you like it or not.”

“Get used to it,” Gaz added, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Ghost didn’t say anything, but his gloved hand briefly brushed your shoulder as he passed, a silent promise that they’d always have your back.

For once, you didn’t feel guilty about accepting their care. You knew they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[crushmeeren]

࿐ megumi’s turn! dabi’s version can be found here. again, this is short and sweet so I could focus on editing, but I hope the pacing wasn’t too fast. it’s also softer than I intended it to be, soooooooooo enjoy. :D

⇢ ⇢ �� FEM READER ⋆

࿐ master list link ࿐ kinktober master list

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ hints of hunter/prey, stalking, mask kink, breath play, a mixture of degradation and praise, yandere (ish?) vibes.

⇢ ⇢ megumi art by saucy britt ! ⇢ ⇢ @sikuthealien

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Megumi’s your boyfriend, but he’s a bit too obsessed with you. He starts pretending to stalk you at night while wearing an oni mask to drive you even further into his arms and see him as your protector. It backfires when Megumi doesn’t realize that you found out it was him almost immediately. Nevertheless, you’re going along with it because you’re just as delusional about him.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Whenever someone asks you “hey, what do you love about Megumi?”, well, a plethora of amazing things fill your mind. You could, and would, write love poems about that man for days.

But, there are two quirks of his that you love to mention.

First off, Megumi is truly horrendous at keeping secrets. His apathetic attitude may not broadcast that, but he’s a gossip. Only those closest to him know that it’s his guilty pleasure.

Secondly, if you looked up the definition of obsessive personality, Megumi’s pretty face would be pictured there.

You’re not complaining, no, you’re so in love with your boyfriend it makes you sick. It’s just, for as long as you’ve known him, he’s never had the ability to keep a secret. Not even to save his life. You’re privy to much more restricted info involving Yuuji and Gojo than you ever thought you’d be.

To piggyback off that, he’s also constantly worrying about your safety. He checks in on you often, and he gets this stormy expression whenever you refuse to take his concern as seriously as he wants.

The pathway to and from your work is all but seared into your brain. You’ve walked it alone so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. So you’re not quite understanding why now, of all times, Megumi has deemed it unsafe. You’ve remained unscathed thus far.

And that’s why, when your sweet, obsessive boyfriend began stalking you on your way home from work late at night in an Oni mask and hoodie to cover his hair, you felt…. flattered. Were you creeped out? No. Should you have been? Probably. There’s no denying that the thrill of it gets your blood rushing, and the adrenaline high gives you goosebumps. You enjoy it, for lack of a better word.

Megumi, you assume, is more than likely trying to make a point. As misguided as it may be. When you first saw the masked man the night after yet another argument, you reasoned it was too much of a coincidence to ignore. At that time there was no proof connecting him to Megumi, but you had your suspicions.

When he asked about your walk home that very night, his forced nonchalance raised a red flag for you. Still, you didn’t mention you thought it was him. You did however snuggle close to him and rant about “your stalker”, begging him to protect you. Megumi sure as hell resembled a self satisfied cat when you did.

Afterwards, Megumi ended up pinning you to the bed with your knees touching your ears, whispering about how he’ll kill anyone who touches you. Now he does that each time you mention seeing “the stalker”, on your way home. A win - win, truly.

Granted, you were still wary about whether it really was him or not for the first few incidents. Then he made the mistake of hiding just around the corner of the alley you frequently pass and you caught a whiff of his extremely familiar cologne.

Not to mention you found the exact same Oni mask peaking out from under his bed a few days later. It looked as though he shoved it underneath in a frenzy, confident that it would suffice as a hiding place.

It didn’t.

You pretended you hadn’t seen it, waiting until Megumi went to get snacks from the kitchen before casually kicking it further under the bed and out of sight.

Safe to say, you’ve been allowing this to go on for much longer than you should have. It’s been almost an entire month. You’re curious to know if Megumi has any hunches that you’re aware it’s him, if only because you haven’t mentioned hide nor hair of filing a police report about it. Which would be the next logical step that any sane person would take.

In the back of your mind, you distantly wonder if you should be concerned that Megumi is so obsessed with you that he’s willing to go to such lengths to push you further into his arms.

You end up shrugging it off because you can’t judge him too harshly. You probably would’ve ended up doing something similar sooner or later if he hadn’t beaten you to the punch.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Things come to head one night as you’re heading home.

The moon is bright, the stars are beautiful, but it does absolutely nothing to tame the trail of fire you’re leaving in your wake.

Work had been… enraging, to say the least. Your insufferable coworker had been on shift with you, and you’d seriously rather shove bamboo shoots under your nails than work with them.

They’re selfish, incompetent, a pick me, and you can’t fathom why your management keeps them on staff. Those motherfuckers.

After you had angrily tugged your coat on and gathered your things, you stormed out the door after having a rather heated conversation with your manager. You hadn’t checked your phone all night, and it completely slipped your mind to text Megumi when you left, as you usually did.

About halfway through your fuming journey the light of the street lamps bounce off of something shiny and it catches your eye. Your heart beat falters, head snapping towards the alleyway only to see a figure lurking in the shadows. Peering straight at you. The person is clothed in all black, hoodie securing their hair, but once you spy the Oni mask, you realize it’s Megumi. Again.

You roll your eyes, your only recently fading irritation sparking back to life. You exhale harshly through your nose, stuffing your hands further into your pockets and speed up. You are not in the mood to deal with this. The distance sound of sneakers scuffing the sidewalk as someone walks briskly has your fingers balling into fists.

Normally, the cold blooded thrill of being stalked switches your adrenaline into lust, leaving you drooling for Megumi by the time you get home. But currently it’s twisting into something ugly. The sensation of eyes constantly being locked on you has you desperately wanting to crawl out of your skin. It’s overwhelming, and not in a good way.

You speed up once more, jaw tightening to the point that your teeth may crack when Megumi matches your pace. You’re this close to breaking out into a jog as you turn the last corner to your block, but your ears start to twitch at the sudden absence of footsteps.

You whirl around ready to give your boyfriend a piece of your mind, but you freeze when you realize he’s gone. You grind your teeth in irritation because he obviously slipped away without you noticing. Clicking your tongue behind your teeth, you practically stomp past the last few houses toward your shared home.

Megumi better be ready to argue when he shows up.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

As soon as you get home you toss your stuff carelessly onto your bed and return back to the living room. Dropping down onto the couch, you sit stiffly, shoulders tense as you perch yourself on the edge.

A part of your brain scolds you, telling you that your boyfriend doesn’t necessarily deserve all the built up rage from the day. Megumi isn’t innocent though, and he does play a part in the chaotic mess you’ve created, so it’s obvious you need to talk to him.

It doesn’t take much longer for Megumi to show his face. The door creaks as it opens and closes, your palms starting to sweat the closer he gets. Megumi calls out to you in greeting, but the silence is deafening when you don’t bother to reply.

Megumi rounds the couch and freezes when he eyes your tense posture. His face is carefully blank, eyes flitting over your figure as he gingerly sits down next to you. You barely spare him a glance, Megumi’s brows pinching in concern as you return your stare to the TV in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” His tone is apprehensive as he rests a large palm on your knee, slender fingers squeezing reassuringly. You stiffen under the touch, unable to stop yourself from glaring hotly at him.

“Why the fuck have you been following me?” Your tone drips with venom, the slightest bit of guilt brewing when Megumi’s head jerks back as if you slapped him, lips parting and eyes widening.

Okay, so you definitely didn’t plan to get to straight into it, but evidently you can’t hold your tongue.

“That’s not, I mean —,” he starts to fumble over his words as he tries to come up with something convincing. His fingers dig into your knee and you sneer slightly, shifting to grip his wrist so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“Megumi,” you warn. “I know you’ve been following me. I found the Oni mask under your bed. Tell me why. Now,” you stress the last word and lock your heated gaze with his. His dark eyes flit back and forth across your face as he stays stiff for an ungodly amount of time. Just as the silence is becoming unbearable he wilts in his seat, sighing as his chin touches his chest.

Some of your fury fades when he lifts his head and looks at you with such sad eyes, a small frown on his mouth. Your hold on his bony wrist loosens considerably.

“I just,” he pauses, pursing his lips as he searches for the right words. “You make me feel, okay? Too much sometimes, and I get worried about your safety. I wanted you to see how dangerous it can be for you to be out there alone. I need you to need me, the same way I need you...” he mutters, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he averts his gaze.

All the fight drains out of you, chest welling up with a warmth so intense it burns the tips of your ears.

“Gumi,” you say softly, moving to tenderly cradle the side of his jaw. He leans into it, eyes hopeful as he reaches up to place his hand over yours. “I do need you. You’re the only one I trust to protect me. You didn’t have to stalk me to get your point across,” you say with slight amusement, resting your forehead on his.

Megumi sighs softly, lids lowering. “I wasn’t going to keep it up at first, but then… I started to like the thrill of hunting you down,” he admits, sparking the tension between you. The warmth in your belly turns you gooey as you process his confession.

You hesitate before answering shyly. “I…liked it too.” Megumi’s expression shifts into something more humorous, a faint smirk quirking his lips.

“Oh?” He teases. You bite your lower lip, trailing your fingers feather light down the side of his throat and his breath hitches.

“Yeah,” you whisper, catching Megumi staring at your mouth with a dark hunger. He smoothes his hand up to your inner thigh, inching his face even further into your personal bubble.

“I want you,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. You moan lowly, tilting your head to get the perfect angle. Soft lips meet yours slowly, repeatedly, and the slick noise of it makes your pussy ache to be stretched by his cock.

You make out with your boyfriend until you’re seriously debating crawling into his lap and riding him right here on the couch. Delicately, you place your hands on his chest, the soft t-shirt brushing your palms, and you push to break the kiss.

“Go get the mask, Megumi.”

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

It’s a rush to see who can get naked first.

Your clothes, and Megumi’s, are scattered along the floor of your bedroom. Megumi had eagerly pulled the mask from his back pack, and now you’re in bed spread out on your back, watching Megumi with bated breath as he slips it on.

Megumi has settled on his haunches between your thighs, adjusting the mask until it fits comfortably and covers his entire face. You have to bite your knuckles as he looms over you. He plants his hands on either side of your head while you stare up at him with stars in your eyes.

You’d practically begged him to make it rough, not wanting much, if any at all, foreplay involved.

You gently run your hands down the soft skin of Megumi’s taut stomach, fingers brushing over the thin patch of dark hair that leads to his cock. You wrap your fingers around his shaft, the decent weight of it against your palm turning you on just that much more. His hips twitch involuntarily when you squeeze playfully, slowly stroking as he moans your name.

Too soon he’s snatches your wrist away, causing you to pout up at him. He shakes his head and tugs your hand away from his dick.

“Turn over baby,” Megumi instructs, backing off enough to allow you to wiggle and shift freely until you’re flat on your belly. Your cheek squishes into the mattress, hands resting by your head, and your blood starts to sing when Megumi straddles the backs of your thighs.

The tingling sensation in your fingertips reminds you of the first time you had sex with Megumi, and it’s as if you’re experiencing that night all over again.

Your stomach clenches when a hard cock suddenly nestles against the swell of your ass. The smooth, warm skin dragging back and forth as Megumi rolls his hips for the friction.

“Are you gonna fuck me like this?” You ask excitedly. A sharp swat on the ass is your answer, a startled gasp ringing out as you fist the blanket.

“I never said you were allowed to speak. Bite your tongue unless I tell you otherwise, whore,” Megumi says coldly, spanking you once more to get his point across. You capture the tip of your tongue between your teeth and nod vigorously, your skin already warm to the touch and swelling.

The insult has your cheeks on fire from the inherent shame, but it feels incredible. Besides, you know he’ll be calling you a good girl soon enough.

Megumi shuffles down, rising up to his knees as he uses a thumb to spread your pussy open. It’s a slow press as he tries to work his cock inside you. His tip’s on the edge of popping in but then he slips, sliding down and bumping your clit instead. The jolt of sweet pleasure startles you, causing you to shove your face into the blanket and moan.

“Sorry,” Megumi snickers, but the bastard doesn’t carry an ounce of remorse in his voice.

He readjusts his angle, lining up his cock a bit better and then he’s sinking a quarter of the way into your tight pussy. It burns, you’re nowhere near wet enough to take him, and you think you could cum from the sensation alone.

He rocks his hips and steadily inches himself the rest of the way inside, using rolling motions until he’s pushed in to the hilt. Megumi decides to stay there, cock jerking and applying firm pressure to your cervix.

You hiss on your next inhale, a stab of pain making itself known. The feeling blends with the pleasure of being stretched so well and your pussy flutters involuntarily. Megumi gasps softly, supporting his weight with palms pushing against your upper back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight like this. You were made to take my cock,” Megumi praises, voice rising in pitch when you wiggle underneath him. You whine quietly in agreement, remembering to stay silent, and an approving hum comes from behind you.

Megumi looms over your back, fingers closing around your wrists to effectively pin you to the bed. He draws his hips back and snaps them forward powerfully, pelvis smacking loudly against your ass.

He builds up to a rough pace, the unyielding grasp on your wrist has your fingers going numb. Your boyfriend mercilessly pounds you into the mattress, cock pushing so deeply you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You cry out endlessly as overwhelming pleasure swells behind your bellybutton. You struggle to get free, but Megumi doesn’t allow you to budge.

If Megumi is making any noise, you can’t hear it over your own cries. Well, except for the few husky moans that spill unabashedly from his mouth before he can stop them. When you start to cum you shout his name so harshly into the sheets that it wrecks your voice. Your boyfriend curses hotly, slipping his cock free completely and flipping you onto your back before you can blink.

He pushes one thigh to your chest and shoves his cock back into you, his other hand latching around your throat as he leans in close.

“What the fuck did I say about speaking without permission?Are you deaf?” He snarls, the angry, distorted expression of the Oni mask becoming much more threatening in your fucked out state.

“I’m sorry,” you wheeze, both hands flying to grip his forearm.

Megumi clicks this tongue and squeezes hard briefly before shaking himself free of your hold.

“You’re sorry?” He sneers, pressing his palm to your face and covering the entirety of your mouth and nose. He completely cuts off your air and your eyes go wide, a burst of panic building in your chest. You can’t fucking breathe. “I’m going to teach you a lesson about listening to me. If you don’t want to pass out baby, you better cum on cock before you run out of air.”

You fist the sheets until you’re sure they’ll rip, eyes rolling back as Megumi fucks you into the mattress. The intensity of the situation and lack of oxygen fills your brain with molasses, ears ringing as your sole focus remains on cumming.

Mercifully, your pleasure starts to crest and peak into that familiar edge, the one that’s similar to the anticipation right before the big drop on a roller coaster. The smooth glide of Megumi’s cock continuously splitting you is more than enough to dangle you over the edge.

Your chest starts to heave, lungs burning as no air makes it way inside. You fumble with Megumi’s wrist, tugging desperately, but he whispers muffled encouragement through the covered mouth of the mask.

“C’mon, you can do it baby. You’re almost there, I can feel it. You’re such a good girl. Make that sweet pussy cum for me and I’ll let you breathe.”

The backs of your eyes start to sting, heart thumping so hard it pulsates throughout your entire body. Your vision swims and your thighs tense, Megumi’s nails biting into the sensitive skin on the underside of your thigh. White hot pleasure suddenly crashes into you, flowing like warm honey. The base of your skull digs into the mattress as you cum with a muffled scream.

Megumi immediately frees you and you gasp loudly, throat like sandpaper as you swallow oxygen the same way you drink water. The sensation of air filling your lungs drags your orgasm out ten fold and you start to push at Megumi’s chest when it gets overwhelming.

“Megumi,” you all but sob, pleading as you stare up at him with glazed eyes. He drops your thigh as he sits up, slipping his cock free with a hoarse groan as he strokes himself quickly. His lean body sags with relief as he cums, streaking your pussy and stomach with white.

He lets go of his still twitching cock, tip leaking pitifully onto the blankets, and pushes the mask off to throw it haphazardly aside. He pants harshly, cheeks scarlet as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair to keep it from sticking to his forehead. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to regain your bearings. You’re sure a headache is on the horizon as you rub your eyes with your knuckles.

The air in your room is humid and stuffy, the only noise being you and Megumi trying to catch your breath. Your boyfriend eventually slides off the bed to find his discarded shirt from earlier. You stay limp as he helps get you clean, Megumi opting to crawl up beside you and lay on his stomach afterwards.

He twists his head towards you and you mirror his position. Your entire being feels like jelly and you sigh contentedly when Megumi rubs a soothing hand up and down your back.

“Are you alright?” Your voice is scratchy as the adrenaline wears off and sleep starts to seep into your limbs.

Megumi snorts. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one who’s half asleep.”

You punch his shoulder halfheartedly and he laughs. “Whatever, can we go to bed now?”

“As long as you promise to take my concerns more seriously.”

“Fine, only if you promise not to stalk me through the streets like a lunatic.” Your eyes drift shut as you speak.

Megumi huffs. “Deal.”

“Keep the mask though, gumi.” You crack open an eyelid to smile playfully at him. Megumi lets out a startled laugh, but he agrees not to throw it away. He snuggles in close and kisses the side of your cheek several times.

[rafes-slut]

Nowhere but Here

Pairing: soft reader x rafe

Warnings: worried reader, injured rafe, mentions of violence and angst

summary: rafe had been ignoring your calls and messages getting you worries until you arrive home and find him bloody and bruised at your poarch waiting for you

────୨ৎ────

She had been looking for him everywhere.

The Wreck, the Figure Eight docks, that stupid stretch of sand where he and his friends used to post up and drink for hours. Hell, she had even swallowed her pride and checked outside Tannyhill’s gates, half-expecting to see his truck parked there like usual. But there was nothing—no sign of Rafe Cameron anywhere.

And the worst part? It wasn’t like he was just busy. No, it felt deliberate. Intentional.

Like he was ignoring her on purpose.

The thought sat heavy in her chest, a slow burn of frustration that twisted into something more desperate the longer she went without seeing him. They weren’t anything official, they never had been. But they weren’t nothing either. That was the problem.

The last time she had seen him, it had been after one of their usual fights. Sharp words exchanged between even sharper glances, his hand gripping her wrist just tight enough to make her breath hitch but not enough to make her pull away. Because that was the way it always went with them. Push, pull. Pull, push. Until one of them finally snapped.

And now, after all of that, he was just… gone.

By the time she got home, the sky had darkened into something ink-black and heavy, pressing down on her as she trudged up the driveway. She was exhausted. Defeated. She didn’t even want to think about Rafe anymore, let alone waste another second searching for him like some lost puppy.

But then she saw him.

Slumped on the steps of her front porch, head tilted back against the wooden railing, one arm draped lazily over his knee. And he looked—

“Jesus, Rafe,” she breathed, her stomach twisting at the sight of him.

Bruised.

His knuckles were split, blood crusted and dried along the ridges of his fingers. A nasty cut ran along the edge of his cheekbone, still fresh, and his bottom lip was swollen and busted. He looked like he had been through hell and back, and yet—

That familiar, cocky smirk still managed to find its way onto his face when he saw her standing there.

“Took you long enough,” he rasped, voice rough and ruined from whatever the hell he had been through.

Her jaw clenched. “Are you serious right now?”

She stormed toward him, her anger fueled by the sick worry that had been sitting in her stomach all day. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Rafe. I thought—” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “I don’t even know what I thought.”

His smirk twitched, faltering for a split second before settling back into place. “Didn’t know you cared that much, sweetheart.”

She wanted to hit him. Or maybe she wanted to kiss him. It was always hard to tell when it came to Rafe.

Instead, she crouched down in front of him, eyes scanning over every injury, trying to ignore the way her hands ached to touch him, to make sure he was real. “What the hell happened to you?”

Rafe exhaled sharply, tipping his head back against the railing again. “Just a little disagreement.”

“Disagreement?” She scoffed. “Yeah, looks like you really won that argument.”

He chuckled, but it sounded more like a wince, his hand coming up to press against his ribs. He had to be hurting. Bad.

Her stomach twisted again. “Who did this to you?”

Silence.

His jaw tightened, eyes flicking away, a rare moment of hesitation that only made her heart pound harder.

“Rafe,” she tried again, softer this time.

But he just shook his head, exhaling slowly before finally looking at her again. And for a moment—just a moment—that mask of his slipped, and she saw it. The exhaustion. The weight of whatever fight he had been in. Whatever had been haunting him before that, too.

She swallowed hard. “Come inside.”

Rafe’s brows lifted slightly. “Didn’t know I was invited.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, standing and grabbing his arm to help him up. He winced but didn’t argue, letting her guide him inside.

The second they were through the door, she turned on him again. “You should go to a hospital.”

He scoffed. “Not happening.”

“Rafe—”

“Drop it, alright?” he muttered, dropping onto her couch like he had done a hundred times before, like it was his own damn house. “It’s nothing I haven’t handled before.”

Her jaw clenched. He was impossible.

But he was here.

And she wasn’t about to waste another second pretending she hadn’t been worried sick about him all damn day.

She moved toward him, grabbing the first aid kit she had stashed in the cabinet. “At least let me clean you up.”

Rafe eyed her for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, with a slow nod, he relented.

She worked in silence, dabbing at his cuts, patching up what she could, trying not to focus on the way his eyes stayed locked on her the entire time. It wasn’t until she pressed an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against the cut on his cheek that he finally hissed.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, hand twitching like he wanted to grab her wrist and stop her. But he didn’t.

She ignored the way her stomach flipped at the nickname. “Hold still.”

He smirked again, despite everything. “Knew you liked bossing me around.”

She rolled her eyes. “I liked it better when I didn’t have to play nurse for your dumbass.”

“Please,” he drawled, watching her through heavy-lidded eyes. “You love taking care of me.”

She glared at him, but he wasn’t entirely wrong.

When she was finished, she sat back, arms crossing over her chest. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Rafe exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Some guys jumped me.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

He shrugged like it didn’t matter. Maybe to him, it didn’t. “Got on the wrong side of them.”

“Rafe—”

“It’s fine,” he cut her off, voice low. “It’s done.”

But it didn’t feel done. It felt like there was so much he wasn’t saying, so much he was holding back. And yet—

He was here.

Not anywhere else. Not with anyone else.

She inhaled sharply. “You could’ve called me.”

His lips pressed together, something flickering behind his eyes. Then, quietly—

“Yeah. I know.”

It wasn’t an apology. Rafe didn’t do apologies. But it was close enough.

[rookiesbookies]

Alright you sexy hoes that read my writing. I start a demon AU at some point last year and I never really touched on it again. I started it bc of an ask, it’s on my au list which is linked on my masterlist and it’s pinned on my profile. I had a friend who read a BL comic called ‘Dear Door’ so fuck it, i’m using that as a basis for this AU. Totally shifting from the og piece from the AU basically.

I thought I’d be a mean little writer and give you Ghost tho… because why the fuck not.

So here’s some Demon!Ghost x Fem!Reader

A reaper. Of all the things she chose to summon, she chose a reaper.

The problem with summoning demons- what the grimoires don’t tell you, is you don’t sell your soul for a deal. You give up your body and bind yourself to the demon you summon.

She felt the searing onto her skin, forcing her to kneel in front of the summoning circle. Summoning circles were only one-way doors. They brought the demons to this plane of existence, it could not send them back.

A mark burned on her mid thigh just under her sundress. It made tears prick her eyes.

The man- demon before her stared down at her with angry brown eyes behind a skull mask. He was tall, taller than she expected, and bulky. Most importantly he was silent. 

She tried to gather herself and breathe as she spoke. “My mother, please do not take her. Do not let them!”

He uncrossed one of his arms. He bent down to one knee and harshly grabbed her thigh. “You have no idea what you’ve done to yourself, have you?” He growled in a British accent harshly. Like a wolf gritting his fangs at her, his voice was deep and gravely, like he left his vocal cords unoften used.

He examined the mark, a fresh door sigil. He hadn’t had a door in centuries. Reapers were the least summoned of all demons.

“My mother, she-!”

“Shut up about your mother, door.” he growled.

There was a silence between them.

“What did you call me?” She whispered.

“A Door.” He spat. He shoved her leg away and grunted, standing up straight. “Get up.”

“What- what’s a door?” She said quietly, scrambling to her feet. 

“Where is this woman,” he grunted, ignoring her.

She scurried ahead of him and led him to where her mother lay sick in the bed. 

“She’s fine,” he grumbled. 

“What,” she whispered.

“Your mother is fine.” “The doctors said-”

“The doctors must’ve been dramatic then,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “She’ll live.”

“Then I summoned you for no reason,” she breathed out.

The reaper nodded. He pulled a cigarette seemingly from nowhere and lit it with his finger tip. He blew the smoke in her face which made her cough. “And now you’re stuck on my way home,” he said lowly.

He grabbed the back of her sundress, took her from the room before he threw her onto a couch. 

“I’m going to send myself back and you’re not going to complain,” he said quietly, parting her legs. He pulled off a doily from the dinner table not far from his reach and shoved it in her mouth. “Just be quiet and don’t fight it.”

She raised a brow and sat up, pulling the doily from her mouth, “what-”

“Do you want me to spell it out? Do you want some sort of princess treatment for your mistake?” he spat out, surprising her, his hand gripping her chin. “You gave your body up when you summoned me, how I need to use it to get back. You made yourself my gate between here and Hell. Sit on your hands and take it like a good door.”

Her eyes widened, “o-ok.”

He shoved the doily back in her mouth, a single finger twisting in the gusset of her panties before pulling them down her leg. He grumbled about woman anatomy under his breath. 

She yelped quietly when one of his cold fingers slipped in. He twisted it around like he was looking for something which made her squirm. His other hand planted on her chest and pressed her into the couch.

“Stop moving,” he barked. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

His finger pressed on the roof of her cave and she let out a whine.

“There it is,” he grunted, thumb pressing against her clit while his middle finger joined his pointer. He held her still and the pads of his fingers rubbed circles on the gummy spot of her insides.

She just laid her head back as her legs twitched slightly, she whimpered into the doily when his thumb rubbed opposing circles on her clit. He shoved her legs open wider with his elbow. 

“Focus,” he growled, fingers picking up their pace as the mark on her thigh began to glow. The pads of his fingers pressed up a small bit more, adding more pressure to her insides and she let out a choked whine in the doily as the mark glowed bright and she clenched around his hand. 

“Next time, only summon me for a real issue,” he spat.

When she looked around he was gone, like he had never been there. The mark on her thigh stung a small bit and she was slippery between her legs, hidden under her sundress. Her panties were on the floor next to her as she panted.

“What the fuck,” she said breathlessly, adjusting so she was more comfortable on the couch. Breathing deeply as she tried to stabilize herself. She decided she was going to nap here for a moment.

It wasn’t until days later when she was thinking over it, trying to get herself off that she realized she could get herself off like that. Her fingers didn’t reach as far and all she could think about was how it just felt like she was fingering someone and not getting fingered. It made her frustrated and agitated.

The next time she summoned him she had been at work in a small storage closet.

“This better be a real-”

She shushed him. 

“My ex has lost his mind,” she whispered, pleading. 

“Fine,” he opened the door and walked out, she followed in toe. His steps were heavy against the laminate floor.

When Ghost saw the man coming at him, yelling and cussing at the woman behind him, Ghost grabbed him by the collar and threw him to the side, getting the woman in her car without a word. He climbed in the passenger seat for the ride back to her house.

When they returned he practically drug her in by her collar. 

“Ghost-”

“Simon,” he corrected flatly.

“What?”

“Simon was my name when I was human,” he spat as she fidgeted with the lock on her door. The anticipation of having his fingers on her was driving her wild.

When he got her cracked open against his hand again, he began to grow frustrated.

“Why is nothing happening,” he growled as she clenched around his hand. The sigil was glowing, but the door wasn’t opening. 

“I’m not,” she gasped out, “I can’t-”

“What do you mean you can’t?” He growled, one hand holding her knees open and the other massaging her sensitive parts as she was sprawled on the bed under him. Her pants and panties discarded on the floor to the side while her shirt and bra stayed on. 

She just whimpered in response as he removed his damp hand. The sigil faded back to it’s dark color and he pulled her to the edge of the bed. 

“So used to fucking yourself on your fingers, suppose it’s not enough now,” he growled. He put her hands so her fingers wrapped around the headboard before he shoved a doily in her mouth again, “hold it, and stay.”

She groaned frustratedly and flopped her head back on the pillow. The doily was her mother’s and it tasted like dust. 

He put one of his knees up on the bed and unbuckled his belt, pulling himself from his pants. “Now you’re going to be real good and be quiet. I have a meeting with Price to get to,” he growled and she nodded with closed eyes. 

She whimpered quietly into the doily when he rubbed his tip back and forth, gathering some wetness so it wasn’t too harsh. What she wasn’t expecting to hear was him spitting on it.

If there wasn’t a doily in her mouth, she’d tell him there’s lube in the bedside table. 

Her mouth was drooling when she felt the soft stretch off him sliding in. He put her left leg, which was practically hanging off the bed, over his shoulder and she moaned as he did small thrusts, inching in until he was to the hilt. 

“Stop clenching,” he spat as he moved into her, “it’ll just make it more uncomfortable.”

Her whine was muffled by the lace in her mouth and her hands white knuckled the headboard. Her eyes wouldn’t focus as she tried to adjust. 

He did a test rock and her eyes snapped open before falling back half lidded. His fingers found their way down to her clit and he flicked it gently, making her whimper, before rubbing on it. He pushed up on it so he had access to more of the nerve endings as the pad of his thumb rubbed it. His fingers resting over her pelvis. 

He started thrusting, low ruts that rubbed his tip back and forth inside against her gummy spot.

“Just needed to be filled, didn’t you,” he spat in a degrading tone, “don’t get much use, do you?”

She whimpered at his words. After a moment the sigil was glowing brighter, he didn’t change his pace as she started to flutter around him.

She tried to pathetically grind her hips against his and his hand pushed her abdomen down, putting pressure on her walls and making her moan into the doily. 

“You’ll take what I gave you,” he whispered harshly into her ear, hand still pressing her abdomen down, her walls clenching as she got closer.

Just as she hit her peak he disappeared and she groaned uncomfortably, angrily pulling the doily from her mouth with a growl. 

Of course he’d leave just as she got off and leave the orgasm unsatisfying. Did he not feel pleasure? Did he not understand how terrible that was? For all she knew he got off on it. Getting her barely over the edge then leaving was almost as bad as not touching her at all.

Of course.

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, check out my AU list for more like this. Don’t forget to leave me a comment (i always try to respond) or a request in my inbox (i also try to respond to these when I can), a reblog, or even just a like to let me know what yall want to see! I love all my beautiful readers so much!

Special thank you to my mutuals @shotmrmiller and @ohmygraves for looking over this and making sure it was good *muah* I love you both you beautiful people.

[seventiesweetheart]

hiii~ how do you feel about writing something about ghostface x reader (either billy or danny) inspired by "sweet serial killer" or "queen of disaster" or thag line from cinnamon girl "if he's a serial killer then what's the worst that can happen to a girl who is already hurt?" IDK I JUST WANT LANA DEL REY FT GHOSTFACE 😭

𓆩♱𓆪 sweet serial killer.

ghostface! billy loomis x fem! reader

INSPO. happiness is a butterfly by lana del rey | “if he’s a serial killer then what’s the worst that can happen to a girl who’s already hurt?”

WARNING. mentions of gore and violence. yandere billy. ghostface breaking into her house. manipulative behavior. fluff! no smut in this one :>

A/N. so sorry anon, this came in so late >< but i hope you like it !!

for a whole week, y/n has done nothing but cry and mourn the loss of her best friend, casey becker. she’s avoided coming to school cause the poor girl couldn’t stand not being able to see her in the hallways. no, she couldn’t bear it, even after her friends have insisted on her being there.

billy and stu were so determined to keep her company, always showing up with new movie rentals and her favorite comfort foods. they hated seeing the poor girl so broken, even if one of them do believe casey deserve what she got for constantly stealing y/n's attention away from him.

but no matter what billy and stu did, it was never enough to fill the void. the horrific image of her best friend's intestines strung around the tree outside her house haunted y/n. who would honestly do such a sick and cruel thing?

y/n sobbed uncontrollably at the thought, her body trembling as she wrapped herself tighter in her (fav color) fleece blanket. she curled up on the couch, her knees drawn to her chest, feeling small and utterly alone. the dim glow of the tv cast flickering shadows on the walls, reflecting off the tear tracks on her cheeks, her eyes swollen and her nose red and runny.

it was already 1:00 a.m. on a saturday, and she remained wide awake in the dimly lit living room, staring blankly at the romcom billy had picked out for her. the lighthearted scenes on the screen felt like a mockery of her current state. but at least it kept her company.

her parents were out of town, too busy sailing away in some vacation beach while their daughter was drowning herself in her own misery. she would never admit it to her friends but it does get lonely isolating herself in her house. and it’s even more frightening to think that whoever killed her best friend still hasnt been caught. besides, who knows? she might be next—

suddenly, a loud ring pierced the quiet, making y/n jump slightly from her position.

who the hell would be calling at such an ungodly hour? the muffled noise from the tv only added to the eerie silence that she was now acutely aware of as the phone continued to ring incessantly.

with a slight pout, she realized the phone wasn’t going to answer itself. and so she mustered all her courage and stood from the couch. it was most likely just her parents checking in; they must be worried sick after hearing the news about the masked killer.

her soft knee-high socks touched the cold hardwood floor as she carefully padded toward the sound. realizing it was coming from the kitchen, she drew closer, the ringing growing louder with each step.

the kitchen was quieter and darker, the only light coming from the moon casting a glow through the window. with trembling hands, she reached out and picked up the phone situated on top of the counter, her pulse quickening at the unknown caller's silence on the other end.

"…hello?" her soft, timid voice asked as she waited for a response.

“hello, y/n.” the voice was low and gravelly, y/n fought hard not to end the call right then and there.

“w-who is this?”

“i’ll answer your question only if you answer mine first.”

y/n face twisted with confusion but she didn’t think too much about it. this is probably just a silly prank call, nothing serious.

“okay… what’s your question?”

the stranger paused a few seconds before finally asking, “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“i-i’m not really a fan of scary movies.” was the only reply y/n could come with cause it’s true. she despised them. plus, if anything, the recent events had only intensified her aversion to them.

“that’s ashame, never even seen a single one?” the voice prodded.

“nuh uh,” the girl shook her head even if she knew that the stranger obviously couldn’t see her right now.

the voice chuckled softly, “cute.”

“i already answered your question, so answer mine.” she doesn’t know where the courage to say that came from but she immediately bit down on her lip in fear of sounding too confrontational.

“that’s right! and here’s your answer, sweetheart,” the call ends abruptly and all she’s left with is the beeping noise of the telephone.

furrowing her brows, she slowly puts the device back down onto the charging station, unsure of what to make of the conversation. but she decides to push it out of her mind as she backs slowly from the where the phone was.

but suddenly, a hand clamped tightly over her mouth, cutting off her gasp. her eyes widened in shock as she felt a sharp metal press threateningly against her throat.

“make a sound and i’ll gut you up just like your poor best friend.” the voice behind whispered menacingly.

y/n couldn’t stop the flood of tears from pouring as she felt the arm around her and the solid chest behind her guide her out of the kitchen. a warm breath brushed against the back of her ear and down the side of her exposed neck as she weakly tried to clutch onto the hand that was still holding the knife.

of course, billy wasn’t actually going to cut her up. he wouldn’t even place a single scar on the poor girl’s skin. he just needed to threaten her enough to make sure she complied with whatever he wanted. and right now what he wanted was to guide her back to where she was and keep her wrapped possessively in his arms.

“i’m going to let go of your mouth now, sweetheart. but you better not scream, understood?” he warned carefully.

he unwrapped his hand from her mouth, revealing her flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. billy couldn’t help but pause to admire her vulnerable appearance as she weakly leaned against his chest, her angelic eyes brimming with tears and wetting her fluttery lashes.

her pouty, petal-soft lips looked so dangerously tempting. in that moment, billy felt a primal urge to claim them, to stain them with his blood soaked violence, a violence so diametrically opposed to her sweet innocence.

but he couldn’t bring himself to taint her with his darkness—not when she looked so fragile and dainty in his arms.

© 2024 seventiesweetheart | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.

[ichangedmycornyahhname]

Miguel O’Hara x spider-person!reader

Summary: Reader returns to the web of life after a run in with another spider person. Miguel of course isn’t too happy to hear about them interfering with other dimensions.

Warnings: smut- slutty smut | Miguel using his fangs and Talons to tease | Backshots? 🫶 | A little degrading | Choking | Kinda fluffy ig? | Miguel might be outta character but whatever

She gulped, hands fiddling with one another as she walked through the twisting cavern where all of the other spider people resided. She knew she had screwed up, but she wasn’t about to let someone punch her and get away with it. Even if it may or may not have screwed up a timeline or two. Typically she’d find a way to avoid such a thing, or at least fix it. But this time, he had found out before she could do anything.

It’s not as though she didn’t like Miguel. In fact, the two had flirted once or twice. But it would seem their little fling was merely that. A fling. Which is why she was expecting a harsh lecture from the man.

She entered the lab he stayed in, the bright red, blue, and yellow lights beginning to overstimulate her eyes. Yet the large dark figure standing amongst it all is what kept her attention. “How many times do I have tell you?—“ He turned around, the lenses of his mask narrowing as he glared down at her. “You don’t go off without back up. Now you’ve gone and messed everything up Y/N.” He wasn’t wrong, and she knew it. That was why his words irritated her so. Her brows knitted, her twisting into a frown as she spoke up.

“You go out without backup all of the time Miguel. So how is this any different.” Her snarky comment seemed to do something to the Spider-Man, because he now found himself curling his hands open and closed as he inches closer to her. “Is that your excuse Y/N?” His curt response didn’t come as any shock to her, and all she could seem to do was shake her head and cross her arms. “That’s what I thought.”

That little comment only added more fuel to the fire. Her eyes narrowed beneath her mask, her arms unfolding as she turned around and began to walk away. She wouldn’t listen to his idiotic comments. Not today. Instead she attempted to excuse herself before she said anything she would regret. Although it would seem to be too late for that. In an instant she found her body being pushed against a cluttered desk, her cheek smushed against the cool metal. Her wrists were pinned beside her head, large firm hands grasping each. “Miggy— what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m getting sick of that attitude Y/N. Always rolling your eyes and making stupid jokes.” She jolted, the soft graze of a needle drawing her attention. Except, it wasn’t a needle. It was the small talons on his finger tips gently pricking at her suit. The odd feeling brought an even odder feeling within her stomach. And soon she found herself trying to look back at Miguel who was currently teasing at her shoulder blades with his fangs. They were sharp and prickled her back in just the right way. “Miggy..” She sputtered as her back arched, hips curving up in an attempt to get even the tiniest bit of friction. “Sit still.” Was all she received.

His hands traveled down her body, slowly trailing down her back, following the slight curve of her spine until finally his hands remained firm on her ass. His thumbs grazed over her bottom, squeezing and fondling as his kisses along her back trailed down. “Oh crap—“ Cool air slipped into her suit as the crotch area was torn through the middle and something warm intruded. Miguel’s finger rubbed circles around her sensitive area, the soft fabric of her panties drawing a chuckle from him. “So quick with comebacks, and now you’re wiggling your hips for me like a slut. How cute.” The sarcasm in his voice almost made her tell him to shut up, but his tongue interrupted before she could get another word out. The warmth of his tongue felt unfamiliar, as did the resounding slap that echoed through the place. Her ass stung, a whine leaving her as his thumb rubbed circles around the stricken area. “You’ll be fine.” He grumbled before he began to lap at her cunt. His tongue worked at her clit, licking and slurping lazily. And while he wasn’t even trying, she found herself humming softly at his touch. He continued to lap at her while using his hands to keep her in place. “Damnit wait-“

For once Miguel actually listened. His tongue no longer pressed pleasantly against her body, and he instead stood from his knees. “I didn’t mean literally- I just-“

Smack

A yelp of surprise bounced off the walls, her head lifting as Miguel’s hand remained stuck to her behind. A small smile was on his lips, the lenses of his mask narrowing ever so slightly. She knew that look. Miguel lifted one of her legs, hoisting it onto the table so that one leg was up and the other supported her. The bottom half of his suit was pushed down to his upper thighs, his happy trail peeking beneath the upper half of his suit. His meaty thighs flexed as he moved himself closer, and that’s when she felt the soft tip of his cock. It rutted against the side of her thigh, precum sticking to her skin as his hands found the small of her back. “Keep your legs spread like that. It might be a tight fit.”

-

“Miggy please! I can’t-“ Papers that had previously been on the metal desk were low strewn about, littering the floor. Her cheek was pressed against the desk, Miguel’s hand tangling in her hair as his heavy thrusts drew a moan from her each time. She could hear his hot breaths, and feel the way his abs flexed against her back as he leaned against her. Miguel’s fangs pricked at the top of her ear, his harsh pants making her clit throb. His hand that wasn’t occupied with her hair came down to squeeze at her curves, just as her pretty cunt squeezed perfectly at his cock. She gushed around him, squelches filling the room as he continued to pound into her.

Miguel was growing rougher, needier. He slipped his cock out and lifted her from the desk. Her feet met the floor, shaky and uneasy. “Spread your legs a little more. I won’t fit if you don’t.” He demanded as he kicked her legs apart a bit more. His hands returned to her body, one finding her neck while the other rested on her lower abdomen. “God, I was hoping you’d act like a bitch so I could’ve fucked that attitude out of you..but seeing how you melt for me..” His cock slipped back in, his hand trailing down from her stomach to her clit. He gave it the occasional rub, synchronizing it with every thrust. The act only drew more moans from her, her head lulling back onto his chest. “If you keep groaning like that I might cum mi amor..” His words, while a warning, only lured her in. She began to roll her hips as best she could, the friction causing Miguel’s breath to hitch. “Fuck you’re really are my slut huh? Cmere.”

His hips fucked into hers, the resounding slaps of skin being drowned out by their moans and groans. His cock throbbed inside of her as her orgasm caused her to tighten up. “Oh crap miggy…” She cursed under her breath. “Yeah I know baby..” He responded as his lips found hers, a slow sensual kiss ensuing. His finger swirled at her clit as he slipped his cock out, now fucking her thighs instead. The combined stimulation had her hunching over, her legs shaking as her orgasm crashed over her. “Y/N you’re spilling all over..fuck me.” Miguel groaned out, his head falling back as he bit back a moan. With his jaw clenched tight and sweat sheening his forehead, he came. Spurts of white decorated the messy desk, along with Y/Ns spider suit.

“Well fuck..if I would’ve known that was all it took to get you to fuck me then damn..” She chuckled breathily, her hands grasping at the desk as she attempted to steady herself.

“Shush, don’t ruin the moment..” Miguel placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck, a groan leaving him as he wrapped his arms around her torso. “You’re still in trouble.”

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 182 }

saturn.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: unedited; mentions of drug use and near o-erdose; smoking; drinking; parental neglect.

{ stuck in this paradigm | don't believe in paradise | this must be what hell is like | there's got to be more, got to be more | sick of this head of mine | intrusive thoughts, they paralyze | nirvana's not as advertised | there's got to be more, been here before }

anonymous said: I have an idea I know you really like to write about a certain type of reader so you don’t need to do anything But I just adore a reader thats nice and caring but only on the outside. Someone who pretends to be ditzy and clumsy but in reality is anything but that. A wolf in sheep’s clothing basically. I’d imagine only certain people could see who reader truly was but just didn’t care or no one believed them. As for the reason reader would behave like this, I would assume it’s related to childhood trauma that lead to trust issues and consistently feeling unsafe. This would lead to them seeking to manipulate others and pretending to be someone their not to keep themselves safe. This would be a great thing to write about because reader could finally let their guard down and show their true self in front of their lover because they trust them. Whether this reader is a high ranked hunter or not, it is all your choosing.(but i will point out that society and the media can be easily manipulated. And they would love a rare “friendly” s-rank.) I could see this reader being with many characters, but you’re the writer so you can choose. As for how would this character get with another, it would depend on who you are pairing them with. For someone more introverted, they could catch readers interest for some strange reason and that could lead to reader keeping an eye on the character. For more extroverted and bold characters, the character could just see through readers disguise and be interested in reader. I know you love fluffy things so this is just an idea. I’m just a sucker for characters being healed by their significant other.

jinwoo sung felt like he was on top of the world when he managed to capture your heart.

being known as the 'sunshine hunter'; you truly lived up to your nickname as you retained your gentle and kind aura, practically radiating with positivity.

he truly admired your strength, being labeled as a rare, s-rank hunter who wasn't pompous and treated everyone as your equal. your smiles were filled with a saccharine sweetness, and the more jinwoo observed you, the more he became utterly captivated by you.

your honeyed sweetness was enough to trap him, keeping him mesmerized as his heart was settled within the palm of your hand.

so it came as no surprise when he confesses to you, leaving you the tiniest bit shocked before ultimately accepting his feelings for you.

how could jinwoo not feel like he was in heaven, being able to obtain someone as kind and sweet as you? how could he not feel lucky at the thought of being able to hold you within his arms each time he came home at night?

you held his heart and soul-

and jinwoo could only wish that you felt the same way when it came to him.

{ ... }

your life felt like it was becoming more exhausted with each smile you gave your co-workers and peers.

how could they not see your strained smile or the way the light seemed to die within your gaze as each word was forced from your parted lips?

how could they not detect the fake sweetness within your tone?

how could they not see how much you were drowning?

as you donned your hoodie and mask, wishing to avoid all fan contact while making your way home, you thought about the man you shared your apartment with.

the man you were dating...

your boyfriend-

jinwoo...

a strange sense of guilt fills you at the thought of him.

you had accepted his confession despite knowing how, deep down, he was attracted to the mask you always wore-

if he ever knew about your true self, then he would surely leave you.

growing up, you didn't have what many would call a 'happy childhood.' your mother admitted that you were an accident that never meant to happen; that when she slept with the man who would help shape you into a full human being, she got drunk and forgot to use protection.

when she found out that she was pregnant with you, she admits it to being 'too late' to have an abortion as she begrudgingly gave birth to you.

sure, during your younger years, she fed and dressed you; sent you to school when you were old enough-

but all the attention she gave you was the bare minimum.

during your teenaged years, when you could better understand just how neglectful she was, you did everything you could to make her start caring for you. during school nights, you would purposely stay out later than usual, going out with the 'bad group' of people.

you tossed aside your virginity carelessly to a mutual classmate and had your first cigarette with him (coughing all the way).

you tried your fair share of illicit drugs and nearly overdosed when you mistakenly took too much of it-

but all you received from your mother was an icy glare as she told you how much of a parasite and an attention seeking whore you were-

needless to say, the moment you were 18, you left that home and never looked back. by some miracle, when the gates began to appear all across the world, you found that you were pretty powerful and could fight these monsters during these raids.

it was thanks to the appearance of these gates that you felt less useless, your mother's neglect and hurtful words slowly morphing into the back of your mind as you swore to yourself to never reveal your true self ever again.

not wishing to be ridiculed and hated for who you truly were, you put on an intricately made façade; one that was filled with wide smiles and constant words of praise from you. you walked with confidence, (like there was not a single thing wrong with your life), with your head held high, never once revealing your exhaustion or depressed state.

and for a while, things went well, with you even being labeled as the 'sunshine hunter' as people flocked to you, adoring you with every press conference you held while asking for pictures and autographs at every chance by your fans.

you basked in the attention, greedily devouring it all as you used it as a substitute for the lack of love you received from your mother.

but lately, your persona was cracking when you managed to capture jinwoo's heart with your mask of light.

perhaps he was the one good thing in your life that you truly didn't deserve. he was everything that you weren't:

he had loving parents and a little sister that adored him;

he was powerful; far surpassing you as a hunter while being able to summon what seemed like millions of shadow soldiers-

you felt like such a damn sham for capturing his heart-

and it was tearing you apart.

what were you supposed to do when he sweetly gazed at you with his gentle grey eyes, asking you to move in with him?

how could you possibly disappoint the man who genuinely loved you?

the man that you were also genuinely falling for.

the emotions and memories were becoming too much to bear, with your steps quickening as you fought back tears. you knew that jinwoo had placed some of his soldiers within your shadow and would see you at any point and time (hence why you had your hoodie up and a mask on).

but there was only so much such flimsy coverings could do, and eventually, your face would remain bare for him. jinwoo would see the pain in your eyes, and the mask you had so carefully crafted would disintegrate into dust.

pursing your lips, you felt grateful that you arrived back at the apartment you shared with jinwoo, taking the elevators to the top floor as you angrily wiped away your tears.

you could no longer keep lying to jinwoo and the world.

you had to come clean and leave him first, admitting to him just how exhausted you were at pretending all the time.

before jinwoo ever came into your life, it was easy for you to keep up your bright and sunny persona, since the moment you came home, you were able to peel off that faux layer of your psyche while basking in who you truly were.

pessimistic.

cynical.

hard to love.

truly the exact opposite of who jinwoo was.

so while your relationship and romance was still growing, you knew it was best to cut it off while it was still in its early stages.

once you returned to the momentary sanctuary of your apartment, you tossed aside your mask and brought down your hood, taking long strides into the kitchen to grab two cans of ice-cold beer. cracking one of the aluminum cans open, you take deep swigs from it, draining it within a few gulps as you belched and tossed aside the can within the bin.

opening the second beer, you step into the bedroom and took out a suitcase, haphazardly filling it with your clothes and undergarments. you didn't care to try and make everything fit, wishing to leave before jinwoo ever came home.

getting tipsier by the minute, you drain the second beer as well, head spinning while looking down at your suitcase already half filled with your clothes. you consider opening up another beer when you felt the air shift around you.

a bored expression paints your expression, taking yet another sip from your beer when jinwoo appears behind you.

"sarang, are you alright?"

you don't respond to his term of endearment for you, choosing instead to turn your back to him as you finished the rest of your beer. already able to picture jinwoo's concerned expression as he steps closer to you, he calls out your name, ready to reach out to you when you face him and slap his hand away from you.

you refused to let the pained expression on his face fill you with guilt. "sarang-"

"don't fucking call me that!" you snarl back at him, tossing the empty can of beer to the side, not caring that it landed against the pristine floor of the bedroom. since jinwoo came home anyways, you figured you could do with just half of your clothes.

as you zip up the suitcase, you were ready to head out when jinwoo steps in front of you, preventing you from leaving. confusion was written all over his face, and he kept shaking his head at you, "what is all this? if something is wrong, or if i have done something to upset you, then you need to tell me instead of storming out."

feeling the effects of the alcohol giving you the much needed liquid courage, you let out a boisterous laughter, shaking your head as you struggled to calm down, hands clutching at your abdomen as you ignored the tears streaming down your face.

"it's not you, it's never your fault, jinwoo. no, it's always been me that was the problem."

taking advantage of your strength as an s-rank, you shoved jinwoo aside, and due to him being so caught off guard, he moves away with little resistance.

letting out a string of whispered curses, you were close to reaching the front door when jinwoo warps in front of you once more, blocking your escape. his eyes were glowing purple now, "what is going on with you-"

by now, your emotions were at a boiling point, making you shove at jinwoo's chest as his back lands against the door. hurt and anger was seen against his glowing eyes when he takes a hold of your hands, forcing you back into the apartment.

you struggle against him, trying to free your hands from his tight grip, but to no avail. jinwoo continues to gain up on you, making you step backwards as you felt the back of your legs get caught on the couch.

you land against the cushions with an audible gasp, jinwoo hovering over you as he kept you trapped against his body and the couch. your eyes weakly shone with hatred for him, but deep down, you knew you could never hate him-

you just hated the thought of losing him-

and that was enough to leave you crying, your emotions no longer able to be contained. your sobs were painful, wracking through the entirety of your form, making jinwoo's gaze soften considerably for you.

as you wallowed in your tears, jinwoo takes this chance to hold you in his embrace, using his free hand to roll your suitcase back into your shared bedroom. once jinwoo places the suitcase against the wall, he continues to let out soft coos of your name, pressing comforting kisses against your hair as he got into bed with you.

both of your forms lay down against the plush mattress, and as jinwoo kept pressing soft kisses against your skin was when your tears begin to slow. unable to help yourself, you clutch to the front of his shirt, knowing that you had to tell him the truth-

that jinwoo deserved to know the truth.

"i've been living a lie for most of my adult life."

you notice the way jinwoo stiffens in response to your words, yet still, he remains quiet, allowing you to continue.

"my childhood... and well, how i grew up in general wasn't pretty. my mom outright stated how much she despised me, a-and, i never was loved by her."

the memory of her disdain and neglect was enough to send a fresh wave of tears, but you pushed through the painful memories to continue your confession to jinwoo.

"that's why, when i was able to awaken as a hunter, i decided to never reveal my true self. i had to be a monster if my own mother couldn't love me for who i was. t-that's why, i figured it was easy to capture everyone's attention with a honey sweet personality-

but that's just not who i am... i never was overly positive with a heart of gold. i've got sharp edges around my heart, like glass from years spent feeling like i was nothing because of my mother, and i just- i can't do it anymore.

that's why you deserve someone who is truly bright and sunny... someone who isn't fake like me, someone-"

yet you weren't given the chance to finish your statement when jinwoo takes a hold of your chin, keeping it still when he presses a searing kiss against your lips. such an affectionate and intimate touch was enough to make your breath hitch in response as you automatically kissed him back.

jinwoo smiles against your lips for a brief second before pulling away from you. he frames at your face with two hands, using the pad of his thumb to caress at your features while telling you, "how could i ever think of abandoning such a pure heart like yours? and your mother truly was foolish, never realizing just how perfect and loving you were. she never deserved you, sarang, not the other way around."

his words make your eyes widen in response, "w-what?"

yet your boyfriend simply hums, holding you even closer to him as he allows your head to rest against his chest while kissing your hair, "i'm sorry, as your lover- as the man who loves you more than anything else in the world, i'm sorry for never realizing your pain.

from now on, you don't have to worry about your persona anymore. you don't need to be anything but you, my love... and i promise to accept you wholeheartedly... unconditionally."

your mind was spinning. was this really happening? was the man you had come to love really willing to accept you for who you are?

with eyes quickly filling with tears, you bury your face even deeper within his chest, "you won't hate me when i'm not smiling all the time?"

"nope."

"and... you won't get mad when i voice my anxieties and cry a bit...?"

"never." jinwoo reassures you with yet another whisper, pressing a kiss against your temple when he tells you, "from this moment on, you never have to hide your true self... for i already know that i'll love you regardless... you're my entire universe, and i can't see myself ever leaving you when you are all that i've ever wanted."

being filled with emotion, you allow your tears to freely fall, calling out jinwoo's name in a loving manner as you lean up to press a kiss against his awaiting lips, heart no longer surrounded by glass as you felt it slowly beginning to open up before pounding for the man that held you so lovingly within his embrace...

a.n. - this story was a long time coming, since it was a challenge for me to write. yet still, i hope you readers enjoyed this. and please, do listen to 'saturn' by sza. it is such a gorgeous song, and sza's vocals sound so airy and dreamy 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[spookieloverslittlemind]

How protective are they…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

a/n: it’s grey and rainy outside yk what that means

Michael

Is this a joke. Michael will literally kill anyone who breathes your air if you ask him to. In fact, at the start of your relationship you had to set a boundary by telling him not to kill every person you encounter, unless you give him the clear (given those kills aren’t his own random kills, he allows you to set a rule of “don’t just kill everyone”). This stems from him walking out your front door, following the mail man one time. Michael is the epitome of the “me and my bitch don’t argue she tell me shut up and I do” trope when it comes to you except his version of shutting-up is putting down the knife. That said, you’ve got plenty of time to stop Michael because he’s only ever walking after someone, so there’s not much danger of him accidentally killing the wrong person. When, however, you do give him the green light to commit murder in the first degree…Michael’s all over it like a bad rash. You’ve never seen him walk with more purpose than when you’ve sighed and said “fine” to him killing someone. Once, you made the mistake of telling Michael he was allowed to threaten but not kill - you were very specific - man who’d been bothering you at work. At first, you thought the guy was just off sick for a couple of days out of pure fear from his encounter with Mike. Then you started seeing the missing person posters. You had one of them on the dining room table when Michael next came to visit and he just tilted his head with the closest expression he can pull to resemble 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 behind the black eye holes of his mask.

Pinhead

Is this a joke. Pinhead can and will summon a portal to any circle of Hell of his choosing to forcibly grab any mf that tries you in any capacity via chains and drag them to eternal suffering. He doesn’t even have to be there to witness the crime before he’s playing judge, jury and executioner that omniscient bastard. He’s very calm and collected about his protectiveness unless someone actually hurts you, in which case he personally handles their eternal torture. Pinhead doesn’t have much of a concept for politeness but the first time he felt the energy of a cashier being less than friendly to you he summoned a portal and you had to rush home to explain that any poor soul working in customer services suffers enough and should not be sent to Hell for being less than happy working in a different kind of Hell for minimum wage. Thankfully, Pinhead brought them back and erased their memory (and injuries) so that trauma never really happened and he learned a valuable lesson that day x

Brahms

Is this a joke. Brahms will not hesitate to kill anyone that sets foot in the house unless you give him a full briefing on, like, your sister coming to visit or something. He’s more lenient with women coming over because he likes watching you smile as you talk to them from where he resides behind the walls but men? Hahahaha. You’re funny. Real funny. You should try standup. ‘Cause you know who’s standing up whenever a man’s voice is heard. And you know who’s killing them with his bare hands. It’s rare anyone has the opportunity to upset you because you’re trapped in Brahms’ mansion, but he’s the kind to track down the exact piece of paper that gave you a paper cut and tear it to shreds. Burn it. Eat it. So it’s fair to say Brahms is very, very protective. It’s a good thing he’s not allowed out, really.

Art

Is this a joke. Like everything about him, Art’s protective nature is…unique, but he’s definitely got it. He’ll watch someone upset you until it makes you cry and then flay a man, type beat. If anyone physically hurts you then yeah, they’re dead, but apart from that he likes to test how far someone will go to upset you before he steps in to act their punishment. Surprisingly, Art’s a lot more laidback than others on this list when it comes to not wanting to kill every person you come in contact with; he’s more prone to jealousy, really, because if he sees someone else making you laugh anywhere close to the amount he makes you laugh, he will want to gut them. And he probably will when you’re out of the room. And he’ll dispose of the body before you get back and mime something about “oh 😱 they had to go ☹️👉🏻 suddenly 🤭” and then you never hear from that person again, for reasons Art pretends he doesn’t know.

Sun and Moon

Is this a joke. Sun is incapable of withholding Moon if you get even mildly disrespected in any given circumstance they’re so protective of you, just hearing about you being upset is enough to get Moon appearing. Sun’s the type to remind you that you are safe and he (and Moon) will never let anyone or anything hurt you. Moon’s the type to shout at and throw toys that have hurt you or tripped you up in the Daycare. Sun is very good at comforting you and cheering you up after the fact, but it’s Moon who handles the punishment. He’s been known to leave the Daycare out of working hours to hunt down “naughty” people, and because you’ll feel guilty about it he deliberately doesn’t tell you the things he does, except to say “they will not upset you again…🌚”

Is this a joke. This servant to God has dedicated her life to cleansing the world of heretics and you think she won’t disembowel every soul that blasphemes in the presence of God’s purest gift to her? She may not have a sense of humour but you, my friend, are hilarious. Marta doesn’t understand petty offences of someone being unkind to you, unless you explain it to her, but as soon as she comprehends the fact you are even remotely unsettled by someone’s presence…God has whispered that person’s fate in her ear, and she won’t hesitate to bring it forth. Marta is not someone you can reason with, so people very quickly accept that to harm you, your spirit or your purity in any conceivable way, is to sign their own death warrant. You can’t stop her, either, because unfortunately when you say “they hurt my feelings”, God sends her a telepathic message that’s the equivalent of “🫵🏻👁️👁️👉🏻🔪”

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Sick | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Summary: He gets sick, other times he would have push it down and go on with his work. However he cant denied the feeling of being cared of.

Warnings: SFW - Soft!Salesman -

The Salesman hates being sick. All of it its a terrible way of a reminder that him as much of a monster as he is, its also human. A human who between changing temperature too much in one day ended up with a fever.

It was alright the first day. He did not kiss his wife directly already feeling the sickness coming in. Besides a good medicine would just make him feel like new. 

And while on the book it did. He was only a Man who could not resist the nature of his wife. Who after noticing him coming home too tired, with his eyes half open and with a few sneezing made him shower and then made him a hot soup. Not even that, he was directly feed by her.

He got wrapped in a blanket like a burrito and got new medicine. His dear wife thought on calling a doctor for him but he was able to calm her down saying it was a small flu.

Still...after she got a face mask (a petition of him since he did not want her to be sick) and got to cuddle together him falling asleep on her as her hands caressed his hair...

He called in sick saying he would not be able to show to work and that a remplacment would be needed. Of course the organization found it...odd. Their best Recruiter never called in sick, never left a day without it being done.

But their recruiter was also never in love before and had never a devoted person taking care of him. Warming IP the house, checking his fever, giving him food and tons of water (really he never got to drink that much in a single day) and reading for him.

This was (besides his nose being full of mucus and the sneezing he would get) paradise. He felt like he was being watched by an angel. And his dear wife was so quick to catch up if he was feeling just a tiny bit bad. Maybe not only him was good at reading others.

"Here, this is for the pain in the muscles" Your sweet voice said giving him a pill with a glass of water "im going to make you some orange juice too later. Not too cold since I dont want your troath to get sick too" Your voice said and he nodded taking the medicine in one go

"Thanks Love, I dont think I would be able to take care of myself like you do" The Salesman said in a tone that showed how truly vunlerable he could be. All his life was him alone. Battling dron the down to top. And even at the top he still did fight alone.

But not anymore. Not with you in his life. He could never be more grateful for it. The only good thing in it, much more than he deserved.

"What are you thinking?" You asked seeing him go silent and his eyes get that look when he is planning something.

"Just about how much I love you and how lucky im to have you" He says giving a sincere smile and making you blush "We should go out once im out of this cold. Maybe some hot springs?"

"Mhm, that would be good. We should have a small gateway for a few days. You have seen more stressed too"

The Salesman could just nod. He had been more stressed lately and while he tried to hide it form you it was just too much. And you cared for him and were able to see the small changes that give it away.

"You are a perceptive one my Love"

"Course Im" you said head high "More for the man I married"

"Right, your caring nature its only for me" He mentioned in a possessive tone making you laught.

"You know it" You responded giving him a small kiss on his head "Others can burn in hell but never you"

Even if both knew he was down to walk in hell once he dies he will enjoy the touch of an angel like you from now.