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faededaway · 2 years ago

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Aizawa x reader

(reader is a cam-girl, Aizawa is the viewer. I had this prompt rotating in my head foreverrr but a cyber sex Collab pushed me to finally write it down ! I have posted the master list of the Collab on the bottom. Please check it out!)

If someone ever asks Aizawa how it happened, he'd have to say, "it's Hizashi's fault!". After all, Hizashi saw his friend alone and sad. And decided to be a good friend by helping Aizawa cope vicariously. Using a parasocial relationship with a cam girl! (if you could call it that)

"I have preferences", he'd say.

"So does everyone else!", his friend would reply.

And Nemuri, being the sex positive goddess that she is, suggested a website where Aizawa could list out such preferences.

A cam-site where you could find cam performers through meticulous tagging after which you'd be redirected to their personal websites. A way to sort his preferences. To be petty and extra meticulous, Aizawa made sure to select a bunch of tags he was absolutely sure could not have been together.

"Submissive roleplay"

"Edging"

"Good girl"

"Faceless"

"Anonymous"

"Female"

"Nipple play"

"Toys"

"Idle talk"

"Interactive"

"Whining"

And ..... 20 more.

To his absolute surprise, there was only one show which fulfilled all of his... Requirements. Well, at least that narrowed down his choices to exactly one.

And that's how he found you.

There you were. When he was redirected to your page, you were already streaming. The video showed you sitting on your bed with your back to the headboard. It seemed like you had your laptop (he assumed) on one of those foldable tables. You were wearing a black mask and ...normal clothing. Revealing nothing ...yet. Your page was pretty good. Nothing was sketchy about it. A schedule of your lives was posted on the top banner. On the bottom of the stream was the chat box. Aizawa noticed that he could comment without any costs, only thing he needed was a name. Unthinkingly, he put down Shou.

On the right side of your page there was a cute to-do list which said "today's theme". Under that list he saw "your girlfriend video calls you when you're away". He wanted to close the tab right there, but hearing your cute laugh after reading a comment made him decide “5 minutes”.

What he didn't expect was to get hooked on so fast.

Damn the accurate tags! Damn you!

2 hours. You had streamed for 2 hours and Aizawa had been there for every second of it. You started off by talking about your day. Just as a partner would. Just as a partner might. You talked about what you had for breakfast, how many cats you saw on the streets, and even about your shit plumbing! Slowly, you eased into more sensual talk. “You know.... I miss you so much.”

Aizawa's breath hitched. Fuck. It sounded so much like you meant it. Like you said to him.

“I wish you were here to touch me”.

Aizawa was sure his heart had stopped beating.

“I really wanna show you where I want you. Can I?”

After the 100 "yes, please baby" comments, you had taken your t-shirt off to reveal your black cotton bra made Aizawa groan. Something about how you weren't trying to get him off, and how you weren't deliberately trying to be sexy was doing the opposite. It was turning him on a lot.

The stream had ended with you coming after playing with your nipples and barely touching your lower half because “baby don't touch what I can't have” had been commented by the highest tipper.

After that, Aizawa had noted down your streaming schedule and joined in regularly.

Your streams made him feel like you really were his long distance partner. It was like he was having a video call with his girlfriend. There were times you'd ask "can I do this?" "Should I take off my top?" He'd wanted to comment! But commenting anything sexual cost him!

Makes sense. Viewership is free. I should pay to ask to see the things I want.

Though he'd been able to reply for free during the 'casual session'. He'd have to pay to say anything during the sensual session. So pay he did! After being friends with a radio star, he knew better than to get free service.

Highest payers got most priority. When comments were conflicting "Can I cum?" "20 votes: yes" "20 votes: not yet"

He saw himself being the tie breaker by tipping just a tad bit too much just so his "good little girl" could cum like she deserves.

Sometimes you'd have special sessions. If it was a regular's birthday, you'd bake a mini cake and sing them a song on camera. More often than not, by the end of the show half of it would be ON your body, your tits, and places he'd never put them in.

"Please, clean yourself as soon as you can", he'd type after you come off your high. You'd giggle softly, "yes, daddy. thank you for looking out for me, Shou." And blow a kiss to the screen. Towards Shou. All his regrets about using a name too close to his real one disappeared after that.

Then came the gift session. 6 months in, you'd gotten a new feature on your site.

Apparently someone's birthday wish had been for you to open a P.O. box. You'd been reluctant to it for obvious reasons. As friendly as you are, giving away your location to perverts online wasn't exactly safe. Aizawa had almost typed "you don't have to!". When he heard of it.

But you'd found a way for things to be sent to you without disclosing your address.

"It'll take an entire week for the thing to reach me. So please don't send anything perishable. And .... Don't send anything too expensive. I want you to take care of your hard earned money. Okay?" He couldn't see your face. You had your arms on the desk, your chin in your palms. He could swear he heard the sweetest most genuine smile. He'd wanted to see it.

Your face. I really wish I could see it.

He wondered if there was a way to see it.

He'd sent you little things. His favorite book. A sweater when it got colder. Anything he wanted to show you as he went about his day. A picture of his cat, a postcard he thought you'd like, gift cards he'd never use. He was spoiling you like he'd spoil his girlfriend. In his mind somewhere, you were nothing short of his long distance girlfriend. When he saw you ruin your lingerie on screen, he sent replacements right after.

On his birthday, he'd typed "I wish I could see you smile just once".

You'd been silent for a while. His heart was in his throat.

Ah, I should have not said that.

"I wish I could see you too, Shou. Happy birthday! I know your preferences so I'll keep the leftovers in the fridge to eat later. Okay? Won't get any on myself."

You remembered him. And his preferences.... You wished to see him too... He remembers being so giddy for the next few days. So giddy that his quiz papers had even the weakest of students getting 70%. An unforgettable week for UA.

On the 2 year anniversary of his viewership (and the fictional relationship he built up with you in his head), you introduced another new feature.

One on One video sessions just for your highest tippers.

"I though about the best way to do this. I don't want you guys to empty your banks. Some of you are too reckless! I'm looking at YOU, YourDaddySupreme! So, there'll be 1 session every month. You'll have 1 chance to place your bids. I'll set up the bidding in 2 minutes. You can only bid once. I'll stop the bid in 5 minutes. Okay?"

His fingers twitched. He had to get it. He had to be it. $50? $100? $200? How much would he need? $1000? He thought of how much he could afford to give up after his rent and utilities were paid and decided that seeing your face would be worth all the meals he'd miss.

My disposable income, is at your disposal.

"Okay! Times up! I'm not sure if you guys are rich or bad with money.... If this is how much you'll bet each time, then I don't think I'll do it. It wasn't a good idea." You paused for a good while before taking a deep breath and continuing.

Oh, of course. Of course, it'd go this way.

"Don't worry. You won't be billed. You make me question my moral obligations! I don't think I'll be taking anything off today. Actually, hold on. I'll put some more clothes on. Make sure you know I'm upset with you!". Part of Aizawa was disappointed but at least no one else gets to your face either. Is what he thought until he saw his email.

Hello.

If you've received this mail, it's because you were the highest bidder in today's show.... Is what I'd like to say.

In reality, there was no bid. There wasn't going to be a one-on-one session with highest bidder. I just.. wanted to see if you placed a bet so I know you want this.

I only want a one-on-one with my sweetest viewer, Shou. The one who sends me pictures of Sushi (best cat!!), sends me funny postcards, and care baskets for the changing weather. Not to mention the fact that you help me replace my very(very) expensive lingerie every time I sacrifice one! I could kiss you just for this! Shou, you've made me grow to like you a lot! I can't help but feel like you ... Like me. Like... Romantically... Isn't this romance?? I don't know.

Anyway, feel free to ignore this email if I'm wrong. But if I'm right, please reply with a time that is convenient for you. I'll reply with the video call link!

I wish I can see you, Shou.

A ball of nerves,

Y/N (your virtual girlfriend from CamShowzzFortheBuzy.to)

Aizawa was no fortune teller, but he had a feeling Hizashi and Nemuri would be on his case about owing a favor to them forever. For some reason, that didn't make him feel as bad as he thought it would.

Cyber sex master list and post @fuwushiguro <3

🩷Part 2 🧡Part 3

#aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #my first collab!#bnha x reader #aizawa x cam girl (reader)

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sunonyoreface · 2 years ago

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He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 15

An: Took a bit of a break to work on my school stuff, thanks for your patience and understanding! If you can't tell from this chapter, I really missed Soap. Lots of angst to come ;)

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 3700

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of guns.

Soap’s arm brushes against mine as we make our way to an unexpected meeting called by Captain Price. He’s the only stability I have right now. My joints feel weak and unnatural as they carry me through the corridor.

As soon as Ghost landed the helicopter in Ludza, I was ushered off and escorted to a solitary room somewhere deep within the base by a group of men I didn’t recognize. That was yesterday. This morning I’d never been so relieved to see Soap.

He says something along the lines of “It's been dunky's since I last saw ya,” and while I don’t have the slightest idea what he means, I’m just glad it’s him.

His right forearm is wrapped in gauze and looks like it’s supposed to be in a sling. Maybe it was in one for a day or so before he grew irritated from the lack of mobility and tore it off. I don’t know if the new injury is from his previous mission or the attack by the Ultranationalists, but I’m smarter than to ask about it right away.

“So, why did Price call a meeting?” I ask.

“Not sure, but it’s important enough for my whole schedule to change,” There’s something different about his voice. I’m not sure if he’s annoyed or relieved. Maybe neither. Maybe he’s almost as concerned as I am.

The part of the building we’re in is underground. Most of the base is. It’s an eerie feeling knowing that if something went wrong, we’d be trapped down here. But this base is newer and better equipped than the last one. I get the impression that they use Latvia as their main base because it’s closer to Russia. Closer to the Ultranationalists. But I can only speculate. Maybe this is nothing compared to their other compounds.

I can’t stop thinking about Simon – Ghost – I don’t know what to call him. It’s like the names belong to two different people and I never know which one I’m about to encounter. One is reluctantly vulnerable, damaged, caring, and tender. He yearns for more. While the other… is, something else entirely. Ghost is cold and industrial, the perfect killing machine whose all stoicism and no emotional interference. There’s an indifference present with Ghost: he’s witnessed and partaken in so much violence, so much heartbreaking cruelty that every other human emotion is out of reach. They are two sides of the same coin.

I toss a quarter in my mind and pray it lands on tails. I catch it in one hand and flip it onto my palm. Soap opens the office door as I reveal its face: heads.

Dark eyes peer out from behind that damn skull mask. He stands just beside the entrance while Price leans against a table. The only thing on its surface is a clunky, black laptop.

“Sir,” Soap nods to each of them as I duck my head and follow in behind him. The last time this happened, everything changed forever.

“Sit down, y/n,” I know it’s going to be bad when Price skips the small talk. I feel my blood pressure rising. My neck is warm and my cheeks flush. I sit on the foldable chair directly in front of him. The brim of his hat dips as he looks down at me, still leaning against the table. Soap takes his place at the other side of the door opposite Ghost. Their eyes on me heighten my anxiety. “Take a breath darling, you look about ready to fall over.”

A weak, nervous laugh bubbles from my chest. I try and relax my shoulders but I think we both know this is as good as it’s going to get.

“I’d like to thank you for alerting us to the Ultranationalist’s plan, it greatly improved our reaction time. Probably saved some lives,” Price says, but in my mind drifts to the others that were lost as a consequence. “But for our sake, I need to know everything that prisoner told you.”

So I tell him. I like Price and he’s always been decent toward me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared of him. Ghost didn’t plan this thing alone. He’s had a hand in everything I’ve endured and has less of an inclination than Ghost to trust me. I don’t know a lot about the English military, but I know his rank means something. He holds power. If he wanted me to disappear, I would without a trace.

As I talk about the things the prisoner said I hear a few grumbles behind me from Soap. I look predominantly at Price but cast a few glances at Ghost who breaks eye contact every time. His actions are far from reassuring.

“Fucking knew there was a mole,” Soap’s voice is bitter with distaste. Ghost shifts as he casts a warning glare in his direction. My mouth feels dry after talking so much.

“Not now, Sergeant,” Price cautions him. This is the kind of discussion I can’t hear. For all they know I’m the mole.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Y/n there’s one other matter we need to discuss,” his attention turns to me. I feel Ghost’s eyes intensify as he watches my reactions. Did he say anything? My heart skips a beat. The inside of my cheek throbs as I nervously bite down on the flesh. Surely he wouldn’t. Right? But their bond runs much deeper than anything he and I had for that single night. When it comes down to me or Price, Ghost would choose him a thousand times over.

Maybe he did say something. What happens then?

I look from Ghost who refuses to make eye contact to Price who won’t look away. He knows.

“It has to do with information discussed at the safe house,” breathing becomes incredibly difficult. My hands clench into fists. Deny everything. Nothing happened. Nothing.

“Okay,” I sound guilty. I sound treasonous. Ready to be put down by a firing squad.

“Lieutenant Riley said you expressed an interest in viewing our tapes of several Ultranationalist attacks,” Relief washes over me as my shoulders sink into the chair. Ghost didn’t tell him. “Specifically the ones involving your father.”

My eyes lock onto Price. His words spin around in my head and part of me refuses to believe I heard him correctly.

“My father?” Swallowing feels impossible. My throat is sandpaper the whole way down. My head is light and a sudden gust of wind could blow me away like a tumbleweed.

“Affirmative,” he uncrosses his arms to brace his hands along the table. “I have them here,” he tilts his head, motioning to the laptop. I look between him and Ghost who finally makes eye contact with me. He wasn’t lying. There really are videos.

My head starts to shake. “I don’t-“

“It’ll make what I have to say next a lot easier,” Price interrupts. What he has to say next? What’s next? What’s worse than this? How could watching my own flesh and blood commit a heinous crime make whatever he is going to say easier? My stomach turns.

“Okay,” I mumble. My hands are being forced. I don’t want to see whatever footage he has.

“Right then,” He moves away from the table to log onto the computer. Already pulled up, ready to play, is surveillance footage of an Ultranationalist attack. “This was in France. Nine months ago. At a soup kitchen.”

Price clicks play and I watch the scene unfold below. A group of armed men dressed as soldiers enter a packed building with people in line for food and sitting at rows of tables. The camera catches the back of their heads. Sewn to their shoulders is the identifying patch underneath the Russian flag. They line the walls and a staff member starts to approach just as they open fire on the crowd. Two minutes of chaos ensue until every single person is riddled with bullet holes. I feel the bile creep up the back of my throat as I sit there completely stunned at what I’m witnessing. It can’t be real. It can’t be.

As the dust dies down, the line of men turns to exit the building. It’s now the camera narrows in on their faces. Their unmasked faces. Not a single man is trying to hide his identity. No. They’re proud of what they just did. I recognize him immediately, even at a distance and in a uniform completely unfamiliar to me. The man leading the group is undeniably my father.

Devastation snags my jaw like a left hook and I feel my face start to crumple under the pressure. What the fuck. It’s real. It’s too real. The first tear falls and I quickly wipe it away, but I know they saw. I can’t stop my head from shaking. I can’t believe he would do something like that. The same man who raised me. Who I thought was so kind.

“Next one also took place in France. South this time,” Price’s voice remains calm. I feel ashamed. I feel dirty from his actions.

I watch three more videos of similar attacks. In the final one, there’s a closeup of the men involved. It’s the first time I’ve seen my father with a beard, but it’s still him through and through. My own flesh and blood. How could a man do something so horrifying? How could he justify his actions?

My stomach turns and I fight the urge to throw up. Full-body tremors take over my weak frame. I wrap my arms around myself in a small attempt to find comfort. I hate the fact that they see me in such a state. I’ve never felt so vulnerable in front of a group of people before. Let alone a group actively hunting down my family. If I can even call him that.

I wish I was back in that cabin, wrapped in Simon’s arms. He’s known this whole time. He tried to warn me. If only I knew how bad it was going to get.

“It’s a lot,” Price starts. “Which is why I’m going to let you sleep on my next question.”

I nod, still staring at the floor.

“Will you help us lure him out?” I should’ve seen this coming. That’s what this has all been about. Using me to get to my father, maybe even Makarov. Ghost said so himself. But now they want me directly involved. Why?

“I don’t know,” I mumble.

“Think about it,” Price’s answer is short and to the point. He’ll give me time, but his patience is limited.

“Will you kill him?” my voice wavers. It’s a brave question, but I’m not brave enough for Price’s answer.

“That’s up to him,” his voice is resolute. The ambiguity of his answer is anything but reassuring. “That’ll be all for now. We’ll reconvene in the morning. Soap, she’s to stay in her quarters for the rest of the day.”

“Yes sir,” I feel his good arm on my upper back guiding me out of the room before I even realize what’s going on. In the hall, his hand rubs reassuring circles between my shoulder blades. “Do ya want food?”

“No,” I sniffle. I need to get it together before we pass the cafeteria full of men. “Thanks,” I mutter through a deep breath as I wipe my eyes for the last time. I find myself leaning into his touch. There’s a softness to Soap that’s too easy to get attached to.

My eyes are swollen, but at least I’ve stopped crying. Exhaustion seeps into my joints. Just walking feels strenuous.

“Still on babysitting duty, Suds?” a vaguely familiar voice taunts from across the room. A blond man in full gear leans against the entrance to the dining hall. He’s speaking to Soap, but his eyes never leave me. Chills run down my spine.

“Shut up ya fucking latrine queen, I don’t have time for your shite right now,” Soap shifts to my other side, placing some distance between myself and this man. He urges me to walk with a gentle hand but my feet start to slow.

“You know,” suddenly his voice doesn’t sound so vague. It’s the same man from the transportation van. The one who made crude comments toward us. The same one Ghost shut up by pulling rank. “Rumor has it you knew about the ambush.” The man raises his hand to point at me. Guilt swells in my chest.

There are only the three of us in the hall connecting the offices, cafeteria, and sleeping quarters, yet I’m afraid someone else will hear his accusations.

“Friday shouldn’t have gone down like that,” any previous teasing tone is gone. There’s real anger behind his words. “Our men died because of you,” I freeze at his words. The overwhelming feeling in my chest starts to spill over. Death follows me everywhere. He’s right. They died because of me. Others are still in the infirmary. Because of me.

Does he see my father when he looks at me? Is that what they all see? A contorted excuse for a human, twisted to the extent even mirrors don’t recognize?

Overwhelming anxiety and despair push me to the edge. I feel the tears threaten to fall again. I can’t let him see me cry. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

My feet take off sprinting down the closest hall, toward the sleeping quarters. My heart thunders in my ears, drowning out the sound of Soap calling after me. I don’t care. I need to get away from here. They blame me. They all blame me.

The empty corridor is lined with doors that blur as I run past them. Each leads to a room with a single twin bed. But no one’s here. Downtime isn’t for another while. I don’t know where I’m going. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter I just need to get away. Panic and adrenaline course through my veins. Tears cloud my vision and I can barely see.

When I hit the black object, It initially feels like a wall: hard and unmovable. But then his arms constrict around my torso, trapping me against his chest. I try and push off him which causes his grip to tighten even more. My mind flashes back to that night he held my arm so hard it bruised.

“How did you-”

“Where’s Soap?” Ghost’s unmistakable voice thunders in my ear. He sounds pissed. I blink away the newest tears. My emotions feel scrambled. His fingers press into my flesh. Ghost knows he has me. He doesn’t need to be this rough.

“Simon, you’re hurting me,” my throat is sore as my voice cracks.

His breathing falters and immediately the pressure is lifted. Ghost’s hands clench into fists at his side. I don’t know who he’s angry with anymore. Me, Soap, or himself? Part of me still fears him. Of what he’s capable of. Despite it, I don’t step away. I missed the heat of his chest seeping into my own. I want to feel the tenderness he’s capable of.

He sighs, collecting himself for another moment before speaking again. “Why are you running in the halls by yourself?” Ghost’s voice is significantly softer, but I don’t miss the urgency still present. A large hand brushes down my arm. It’s the only comfort I’ll get for days.

“I left him,” I mumble, refusing to make eye contact.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” I lie. The huff of his chest tells me he knows I’m lying. But there’s no time for him to push further. Feet thunder down the hall as the thick Scottish accent echoes off the walls.

“For fucks sake y/n,” Soap is audibly annoyed, but it’s only surface deep. “You can’t just run off.”

“Sorry,” the words tumble from my mouth. I hate this. I hate all the attention. All the expectations. Having to be on my best behaviour. The lack of freedom. All of it.

“What happened,” Ghost inches away from me as he turns his attention to Soap.

“I took care of it,” his thick words jumble together when he’s out of breath, but Ghost is used to it. What does he mean by “took care of it?”

“Is this something I have to tell Price?”

“Nah, shouldn’t be a problem again,” there’s a slyness to his tone. Soap tucks his hands into the side of his vest and it's now that I notice the red swelling at his knuckles. I watch Ghost’s eyes flicker down to the same spot.

“Right then,” he looks between the two of us. “I need to talk to you later,” Soap nods, seemingly already on the same page. Ghost casts one last glance my way before taking off. Conflict brews in the eyes beneath the skull mask. We need to talk. Question is, when? There’s a strange expression furrowed between Soap’s brows as he watches the interaction. One almost of suspicion.

I get an entire room to myself. I feel spoiled by this most basic accommodation. A twin bed, dresser, toilet, and sink. Like a luxurious jail cell. No windows. Not this deep underground. But at least there’s privacy. Tired feet drag their way toward the mattress.

Soap leans against the doorframe, bright blue eyes closely following my figure.

“What happened out there?” his voice is soft as he reaches for the door, slowly pulling it closed behind him. My eyes flicker from his to the swollen knuckles wrapped around the handle. My brain is foggy. His actions are slightly ambiguous. Does he mean today? Or at the safe house? The door silently latches into place as he blocks the only exit. What does he know?

“Out where?” I force myself to maintain eye contact. My hands nervously fist the comforter.

“The safe house,” Soap’s head tilts as he examines my reaction.

People are quick to dismiss Soap because of his openness towards others. He’s kind and doesn’t expect anything in return. There’s no hidden ulterior motive behind his actions. Johnny is simply a good person. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t done the same thing.

But his kindness, his ability to connect with others makes him better at reading people than the rest of the task force. Next to Ghost, Soap is who you have to be so damn careful around. He’s been right there beside Ghost for more interrogations than I can count. But they’re not always bloody and violent. Sometimes they’re soft. Sometimes they’re done by someone you thought you could trust. The right interrogator will caress your cheek and wipe your tears as they coax exactly what they need from your swollen lips. Soap knows exactly how to get information from different types of people. He is dangerous. I can’t let my guard slip around him. He’ll know.

“What do you mean?” I ask, crawling further onto the bed to rest against the wall. I need to stay composed. For a moment I was certain Ghost didn’t tell Price, but I didn’t even consider Soap. They’re closer than anyone else on the task force. Their secrets have to run deep. Chances are he could know already but wants me to confirm it. Or Ghost lied to him and he caught on. What if my story doesn’t match his?

“He’s barely spoken a word since you returned. Something’s up,” Soap steps away from the door, cautiously closing in on the distance between him and the bed. I scan his face just as carefully as he does mine. But I lack the years of experience and training that he has. All I have is my gut. And right now I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s a lie.

“Nothing happened,” I attempt, but it’s apparent my words don’t take when Soap starts to shake his head.

“I don’t wanna do that with ya,” his voice is reserved as he crosses his arms. Nerves start to crawl their way back up my spine. Every part of me feels on edge.

“He was angry I didn’t say anything about the Ultranationalists before the attack,” I mirror him, folding my arms across my chest. It’s true. Just not the whole truth.

I watch as he processes my words. As his eyes narrow and his brows pull closer together. Soap’s sharp jaw angles down as he considers his next words. Something is eating away at him.

“Did he do anything?” I don’t hide the confusion stemming from his quiet words. What would he do? Why is that the first thing that comes to his mind?

“No,” It slips from my mouth in a rush, but I catch myself. “Well, we fought, but that’s it.” The sigh that escapes his chest is heavy and his stance remains closed off. I don’t know if he buys it. “It’s fine. Really. Soap I’m sick of talking about this. I know I fucked up. Every damn thing I do out here is a fuck up. Can we just leave it at that? Please?” I quickly wipe at the stray tear that escapes.

“Don’t talk like that lass,” Soap’s shoulders soften as he uncrosses his arms. His feet risk another step forward, but then he stops. Something about his expression is pained. His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach out and comfort me. My mind drifts to how it would feel to have his strong arms wrapped around my frame, how safe it would feel…

Soap reigns himself in. He knows he’s tiptoeing the line of his assigned duties.

“Can I get you anything from the cafeteria?” He retreats into safer territory.

“No,” I sniffle. “Thanks.”

The heavy Steel-toed boots thud along the floor. “I’ll drop off a plate,” Soap says as he closes the door behind him. The loud clank of the lock rattles throughout the room. The fog clouding my thoughts mutes the aching betrayal throughout my body, eventually lulling me to sleep.

My father planned the murder of hundreds of people. Innocent people. Mothers and children. Refugees trying to build a better life for themselves. Vulnerable civilians unable to stand up for themselves. All for what? Political gain? What kind of a sick bastard views mass murder as a tool for power? I can’t believe I’ve been so clueless. Maybe he does deserve to die. Maybe we both do.

I don’t notice the plate of food sitting on the empty dresser the next time the door opens. Something else snags my attention.

My sleepy eyes narrow in on the dark, ominous shadow looming in the corner of my room.

Someone is here.

Pt 16:

#simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost imagine #ghost fanfiction #cod ghost #cod fanfic #cod imagine #soap cod #soap x reader #cod #ghost mwii #mw2 imagine #mw2 fanfic #call of duty mwii #he knows

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byullielle · 1 year ago

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Kiss It Better // Kim Seungmin x Gn!Reader

Kiss it Better, Rihanna Y/N injures themselves and despite Seungmin's snide and teasing comments about their carelessness, he takes care of them, aiding their swift and fast recovery.

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Physical Hurt/Comfort, Physical Injuries, Est. Relationship, Short and Sweet

a/n: this is me projecting because i got injured and now my leg is out of commission (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) i wanted this to be a chan fic but i figured why not show our dandy boy some love today.

A slight groan escapes your lips as Seungmin unknowingly presses on a sore spot, making you frown down at him while he pressed ice on your ankle. "Clumsy," he shakes his head with a smile on his face, clearly teasing you, "Y'see if you just waited for me,"

"I thought I could do it by myself!" you whine, head falling back against the leather of the couch, helpless to your situation as the throbbing pain on your leg leaves you unable to move, trusting Seungmin to properly wrap it up in order to not mindlessly injure it further.

"Well. Now that we're here, you are going to rest in bed until the pain subsides and completely disappears," he gently places a kiss on the bandaged area while you still keep the pout on your face. "Bu–But it's chore day today," you reason out, "Plus it isn't that bad! It only hurts a little,"

"Not gonna make it worse, now listen to me properly and behave, stay in bed and I'll do the chores," he holds his ground before pinching your nose, a sharp cry pulled from you. "And don't look so sad, I promise it's alright," he sighs before scooping you up into his arms, making you shriek and clamor for stabilization using his shoulders.

"Seungmin!"

"Hey!" he looks at you, a bit offended at the doubt in your voice while whisking you away into the bedroom, "You're welcome? I'm not as big as Changbin hyung but I can carry this much," he pouts before gently setting you down the mattress, making sure that your injury isn't pressing up against the wrong direction. "I- I'm still heavy," you sigh and lean back against the pillow while he fixes them up so that your spine wouldn't suffer through most of it.

"No you aren't," he disagrees before taking the foldable table tucked by the corner of your desk, placing it between your legs, and then placing your laptop on it, like a parent giving a toddler something to distract themselves with. He quietly works to get another pillow from the closet, gently lifting your injured leg up and placing it under.

"Ddaengie," you beckon towards him as he hums and sits beside you. You gently cradle his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips before smiling, "Thank you. But seriously I'm not bedridden,"

"That's going to hurt more," he sighs and presses a kiss on your forehead before standing up, "Just trust me and rest, please,"

You shrug and sigh, finally conceding as you grumble a small and reluctant 'fine'. He hums in contentment before leaving the room, "Text me if you need anything!"

"Will do!"

After a solid two hours of working on and watching stuff on your laptop, you manage to maneuver the table to the side before snuggling in the sheets. It made you sleepy and while Netflix ran, you dozed off on your show.

Seungmin calls you multiple times but the moment he enters the room, he chuckles fondly before quietly entering the room. Crawling into bed with you, he places your head on his lap and simply run his hands through your scalp in the gentlest and most soothing manner he could muster.

He adores the crease between your brows and little hums as you nap but he has to wake you up for lunch. Staring at you wouldn't get food in your stomach after all. He runs his finger through your nose, making it stay there as you scrunch it up before cracking your eyes open. Instead of the warmth your boyfriend gives you, you immediately feel pain shoot out from your leg. You yelp a bit and shoot up, nearly slamming foreheads against Seungmin before your clutch your leg, folding it seemingly such an impossible task. "Son of a bitch!" you curse before he quickly gets up and takes the muscle relaxant on standby by the nightstand before handing it to you. "See," he quietly says, "Drink that first, I'll just go get you lunch,"

You grunt non-committally, twisting the cap of the water bottle off before swallowing the pill down and washing it off with water. He comes back a minute later, food tray in his hand before you help remove the laptop from the small table, setting the food down on it as he hands you chopsticks and a spoon.

It was simple. A bowl of rice, yangnyeom chicken, and a smaller bowl of kimchijiggae. Usually, you did the cooking but your heart swells with love upon seeing the simple yet meaningful lunch your busy boyfriend has made you. "Thank you,"

"I ate ahead of you already," he informs, moving down to the foot of the bed before hoisting the aching leg up his lap. "Tell me immediately if it hurts," he informs before pressing his fingers against your calf, far from the injured heel and ankle. The pressure was nice, not too strong nor light and it definitely did alleviate the pain that was bothering you upon waking up.

You start eating, taking the bowl of rice and scooping chopsticks full before taking a piece of boneless chicken. You slurp on the stew carefully, spices lingering deliciously on your tongue. He simply massages your legs throughout the entire duration of your meal, comfortable silence enveloping you both like a weighted blanket on a winter's day.

After your lunch, you neatly set your utensils aside before announcing you were done. Seungmin kisses your knee before taking the tray, "Wanna sleep more my love?" he asks, running a hand on your head comfortingly, strands of your hair sliding between his fingers. "I'll see, if I start feeling sleepy again," you mumble, closing your eyes against his minstrations. He chuckles and presses another kiss on your forehead.

"Really, thank you so much," you sincerely look up at him, a fond smile immediately playing on his lips, "Anything for you," he presses a kiss on your nose before you pout, "Why not on my lips?"

"And taste kimchi breath? Pass,"

You jokingly smack the side of his arm with a scandalized gasp, "We had the same lunch!"

#skz #skz scenarios #skz seungmin #stray kids seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff

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lauriemarch · 1 year ago

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you romanticize the theatre rehearsal– you love the idea of bloodied shakespeare traded from desperate palm to desperate palm, you dream of the sweat dripping from a dancer's brow like the sun glinting off the sea, but in between all of this imaginary want, you miss the whole point.

you miss the clutter of foldable tables holding laptops and open scripts and the rind of an orange, four empty water bottles and six uncapped pens. two rings of keys and one folded up piece of my notebook paper that represents a letter prop. you miss our running document of silly things people have said in the heat of the moment and you miss the hundred clarifying questions that are asked. you miss the hunger in everyone's eyes, the want, the need, the lust. the unspoken something between my eyes and the boy i love to make laugh– you miss the way he's like that with everyone who has the pleasure to come him across, and i can't bring myself to particularly mind.

and you know what? you do miss the bone-chilling scream of a man who's eyes are ripp'd from his traitor skull (the vocal-conscious yell of a grad actor with voice and speech tomorrow morning), the sharp lines drawn between two bodies moving against the grain of a tango. you miss the magic that settles in-between the creased brow of a determined designer and you miss the silent cheering folded behind a heavy black curtain when the tricky scene change goes exactly as we put it to paper. you miss it. you miss everything, when you aren't here.

but tonight, i'm here, and i'll explain exactly what it all means. i hike my skirt up above my calves and i swiftly collect the rehearsal props littered around the room; someone yells "I'm not a fucking liar!" and we're supposed to be running King Lear. the animosity from blind father to vengeful son never bleeds into our equity 10-minute breaks. we all tune in, for just a moment, and we all feel the same damn thing run through our bones. it's the same, it's the same, we're the same. we to you to me to us to them to zip to zap to zop.

#this is for people who love if we were villains but do not do theatre #i hope the clarification means something to you #what does this mean you ask #i don't know i respond #dark academia #light academia #studyblr #booklr #studying #light acadamia aesthetic #study notes #book blog #little women #poetry #theatre #if we were villains #shakespeare #king lear #william shakespeare

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sharedramblings · 2 years ago

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Just For You

Summary: Cold weather. Dry lips. Larissa.

Author's note: A silly idea made by my silly little mind. The longer this stays on my drafts, the stronger the urge to just delete it completely.

Additional note: Just want to thank @yourlocaldisneyvillain @sapphicsbeloved @saphire-scribbles for letting me know of your thoughts on the last fic! I was having doubts if I should keep it posted so I'm glad you found it alright. :)

And to answer @digital-demise (who I can't seem to tag) yes, that's the game I had in mind. I agree that it's a classic! I love how it challenges the teamwork and dynamics of the players. I'm glad you recognized it.

—-—-

A shiver runs down your spine again so you momentarily stopped checking the paper you were grading. You looked at the fire on your left, still offering you additional warmth in the rather cold weather. You chanced a glance at Larissa, and you saw her still laser focused on her laptop which brought a smile on your face. You love seeing glimpses of her while she's busy.

But before you can fully stare and take her in, you shook your head out of it, forcing yourself to finish the ungraded papers on your table.

Spending the last few hours of the workday on Larissa's office has been integrated on your day for months now. A spare foldable table is permanently stored in her office, waiting until your classes are finally over. This routine started to remedy the unfortunate matter of rarely seeing each other during the weekdays due to work, and also because you always want to accompany her on the walk through her chambers once she's done with the day's workload. The good night's, the handholding, the little squeezes in between, the light conversation, the shared smiles, and the kisses– well, those were just some perks you always look forward to when you reach your destination. You were absolutely smitten, and you took pride in that fact.

You can see that you only have a few more papers left, and you're annoyed that you have to stop once again. It's still the weather's fault but this time you weren't trembling from the cold, but rather chewing on your bottom lip as you felt how dry it is.

—

You turn your attention to your bag, searching for the short tube that would aid you in your current problem. You checked your purse, it's not there. You also checked the various pockets, hoping you put it there but it's not in any of it. So you decided to look in the entirety of the bag, hands moving your things on the side yet you still came up empty-handed.

You're confused. Where did you place it? You tried again. Maybe second time's the charm.

No, it apparently isn't.

You sighed before facing Larissa. It's a long shot, but you'd still take it. "Rissa? Have you seen my lip balm?"

She glanced at you, head slightly tilted at the side before she hummed her yes. She stood up and walked towards you, stopping on the side of the table in front of you.

"Open up" Her eyes, which seem fixated on your lips, affirms what she was pertaining to.

You gave her a quizzical look, but you decided to do it after a few seconds. She could have just told you where it was so you could have applied the lip balm on your own, but if she wants to do it, then you'll let her be.

She leans down, the pad of her thumb tracing your lips before proceeding to caress your cheek. You hold your gaze up at her, her undivided attention making your cheeks heat up.

You didn't have the time to question why she's leaning even further when her lips met yours in a kiss, your eyes instinctively closing at the contact. A shiver runs the length of your body, now for a different yet very much welcome reason, as her tongue follows the path that her thumb traced on your lips. You let out a hum, your hand shooting up to stroke the back of her hand that's still holding your face. Her tongue claims your mouth, and you allow her to explore, too drunk on her kiss to think about anything else.

When you felt that she's about to pull away, you went to chase her so as to not end the kiss, but the hand in your cheek prevented you from doing so.

"How's that?"

You slowly blinked multiple times, eyes finding hers. You ran your tongue on your bottom lip, still reeling from the kiss. You just stare at her for a bit, your mind yet to form any coherent thought. The slight raise on her eyebrows was what made you talk, "Is that a new brand of lip balm?"

She nods before muttering the confirmation, playing along with what she started.

"I think it's my favorite" She chuckles at that, a proud smirk adorning her face. Despite the smirk though, you noticed the faint blush in her cheeks. She's just as affected as you are.

"It's exclusively yours, darling"

"I sure hope so. I'll fight anyone who dares try them" Larissa laughs at that. Her eyes shimmering with adoration.

You grabbed her hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it. You felt her squeeze your hand before she goes back to her chair.

"Oh, and before I forget, your lip balm is hidden on the stack of papers"

You crane your neck to look, and there it is. The embarrassment flared up the heat on your cheeks. It slipped your mind that you placed it there.

Larissa could have had easily told you where it was, but then again she seemed to have a plan in mind. One that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter widely.

"Thanks. I don't want it anymore, though. I already have my new favorite" You playfully said as you kept the lip balm safe in your bag.

Her answering smirk made you blush even harder. You knew then that you'll be distracted to finish the rest of the papers in front of you, but you'll still try nonetheless.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader

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boneskullravenriver · 7 days ago

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This is my laptop desk that is supposed to mainly be used on the floor or on the bed (you can look up "laptop desk" on Amazon and you'll see a bunch of them, the legs are foldable for storage). However, I needed a proper desk so I can sit on an actual chair because sitting on my bed or the floor was hurting my legs.

What you don't see on the bottom is how I have a foldable step thing with a bunch of books propped up on one side, and a box of beer on the right with more books laid on top to hold the desk up on another. The middle area is where I have space for my legs. I stole a chair from the living room dining table to sit on😂

This whole set up is shoved into the far corner of my small room, but it's cozy. I like it. I moved my laptop away to my night stand that's to my right (you can't see it in the photo because it's a little ways behind me) whenever I want to use the space here for writing because the desk is kind of small and my laptop takes up all the space

That is the notebook I'm using to spit out my novel :) Very messy. But I'm making some progress.

#writeblr #writers community #novel writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writer #writing #writers

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wonopia · 5 months ago

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THE PHOTOBOOTH | 010. YOU CAN TRUST ME

[WC] . 1500 prev ! mlist ! next

misa was now at home, lying on her bed. soobin and her haven’t talked too much but she was still surprised he was able to get in touch.

she brought her attention to the knock on her door.

“saki,” her father said, opening her door, “do you have time to drop something off at your grandmother’s tomorrow?”

“dad,” misa mumbled, getting up to help him, “you’re not supposed to be walking around. is dr. k here?”

“she hasn’t come yet,” he coughed, his hand gripping onto the iv pole beside him, “i wanted to see you, how was the trip?”

she wrapped her dad’s arm around her own as they made they’re way to his bedroom, rolling his iv as well.

“it was great, dad,” her smile enlightened him, “now when i bring you to your room, sit there and wait while i call dr. k.”

he nodded as they entered his small room. the walls were a light brown with building blueprints, wooden buildings– some unfinished in the corner.

she sat him down on his bed before adjusting his iv pole so the tubes weren't tangled. misaki excused herself from the room and dialed dr. k’s number in her cell phone.

“hello,” she said, “may i please speak to dr. k?”

once sunghoon arrived at her house, she welcomed him inside while instructing him where her room was.

“we’ll be studying in here,” misa told him, “it’s my bedroom.”

“are you sure your parents are okay with you being in your bedroom alone with your boyfriend?” he asked, teasingly.

misaki rolled her eyes at him, “we’re working on the floor so start setting up,” she said, “and don’t look in my drawers, perv.”

“hey!” he said, “i’m not that kind of guy.”

“mhm” she hummed, unconvinced before exiting the room.

she strided towards her father’s room, pushing open the door before peeking in.

“father?” she called out in japanese.

“come in, saki,” he said, waving her in.

she closed the door behind her before walking over to sit on the stool beside his bed.

“i have someone over right now,” she told him calmly, observing him, “my boyfriend.”

“ooh,” he smiled, “my saki has a boyfriend?”

misa smiled sadly at him while nodding, “yes, i do.”

“do i get to meet him soon?”

She nodded, “of course, you will,” she assured him.

“well you know the rules,” he pointed as a way to tell her to follow them, “no doing naughty stuff in my house, don’t eat my snacks, and leave the doors open.”

“yes, father, i know.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

misaki and sunghoon continued to do they’re school work, simply unbothered. they were using a small foldable table on her bedroom floor. they have been consistently working for about 3 hours. it was now 4 pm and it was around lunch time.

“are you getting hungry?” she asked him, her eyes glued onto her laptop followed by the clicking of keys.

“no..” and almost as if it was queued, his stomach began to growl causing the two to pause what they’re doing and glance at his stomach, “haha, maybe a little.”

“we could get food in a little bit,” she nodded, focusing back on her electronic device, “i could cook something for us.”

“what are you craving?” he asked, looking up at her.

“do you want some stir-fried ramen and tteokbokki, maybe even some pancakes too.”

for a moment, it was silent between the pair.

“hey misa,” he began, her eyes looking up at him, “where are your parents? i’ve never asked about your personal life.”

hesitant, she licked her dry lips, laughing dryly, “no, youre good. um.. my father’s here, he’s just.. a little sick. as for my mom..”

he watched as her eyes averted down at the table– he couldn’t tell if the look in her eyes was sadness or frustration.

“she doesn’t live here.”

he paused, wondering if it was okay to continue asking questions, but proceeded anyways, “what about the boy in the picture frames?”

loss at words, her hand reached for the back of her neck, feeling a her heart ache for some odd reason.

“is he your brother? you guys looked happy.”

“we were,” she uttered out, “yes, he is my brother. he.. he and my mother live in busan. it all happened in fourth grade when my mom put him in a summer camp and.. divorced with my father and left.”

sunghoon could feel her pain even though he couldn’t relate at all. just looking at her, he could tell she was in pain, he could tell she was hurting.

“i stayed with my dad and i never saw them again. i had contact with my brother but after a while he stopped responding,” she smiled sadly, “my father got sick 2 january’s ago, he was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. he’s not prone to death but the chances are still high.”

“are you and your brother twins?” he asked, quietly.

she nodded, peering up at him, “on the college viewing trip, he reached out to me. we weren’t able to meet up or anything but i’m currently in contact with him.”

the atmosphere was thick and full of a sad feeling, something you couldn’t shake off so easily.

“okay, haha!” she laughed, cheerfully, “enough about me.”

A knock on her door, made her jump the slightest.

“saki?” it was her father, he peeked past the door surprised to see a boy there, “oh your friend.. boyfriend is still over. i’ll leave you be.”

“wait no, father,” misa got up, going after him before bringing him back into the room.

sunghoon stood up from his spot, noticing her father’s state. he was frail, fragile, and most of all a resemblance of misaki. he could see where she got her personality, and was able to notice how much she envied him.

“hello, i’m park sunghoon. it’s nice to meet you,” he bowed, a smile on his face.

“wow,” mr. choi gaped, “you’re very tall and pretty, perfect for my daughter.”

misaki quickly covered up his words with a fake laugh as a sign for him to stop– her father still looked up at him with fascination, almost gushing.

“you.. you have the skin of an angel. how amazing,” he mumbled under his breath.

sunghoon blushed at the compliments, “thank you, mr. choi.”

“let’s take this to the kitchen,” she interrupted, ushering her father out the door– his gaze still on sunghoon, “father, snap out of it,” she whispered quickly before turning back to smile at sunghoon, “you guys can talk more at the table.”

a while later, misaki began cooking up they’re dinner. she listened to they’re conversation, and they got along almost immediately. she couldn’t help but feel sad, she wasn’t actually dating sunghoon and to her father they were.

an alarm went off, scaring the three, “father,” she called out, “you have to take your medicine, let’s go.”

“i’ll watch the food,” sunghoon added, making his way to the kitchen as the two made they’re way to a room. he assumed it was mr. choi’s.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

they were now sitting at the small dining table. misa beside her father and sunghoon on the other side of the table. He watched as she cut up the enoki mushroom egg pancakes for her father, putting it on his plate in a beautiful way.

“thank you, my saki,” he gleamed, “it looks great!”

“yes, it really does,” sunghoon agreed, “thank you.”

misaki looked at him, they’re eyes meeting and she could see the genuineness in his eyes. She smiled sheepishly, blushing infuriously.

“let’s.. let’s just eat, yeah?” she stuttered, stuffing the noodles in her mouth.

“so sunghoon, you do ice skating,” mr. choi started, “you should teach misaki, she is absolutely horrible at it.”

“dad,” she groaned, mouth full of food, she covered herself with her hand.

the boy laughed at them, “sound’s fun, i would love to take her ice skating some time.”

“well you have my approval.”

for the rest of the night, it was laughs and giggles. mr. choi seemed to love sunghoon. it wasn’t until after, the guilt sunk into her but she pushed it aside and decided to live in the moment.

“father, i’m going to walk him out,” she said, “i’ll be back.”

“thank you for having me,” sunghoon thanked after putting his shoes on.

“i hope to see you again, park sunghoon.”

with that, they left the house. they were waiting outside for sunghoon’s mom.

“thank you for trusting me,” he said, they’re eyes meeting for the millionth time tonight, “it’s not easy to trust somebody.”

she took this moment to stare at him, truly thankful for him, “thank you for letting me trust you, but you could also trust me too, sunghoon. i hope you know that.”

note: extra chapter td cus i'm chapter's behind in posting haha. love you guys <3

open TAGLIST. @coffeeprincejaehyun @hoonatic @i03jae @lilifiedeans

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