#i get annoyed humans have needs just cause it gets in the way
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i did it yall ✋🏽🙂↕️🤚🏽
hybrid! reader x tf141, but they’re nocturnal and ghost HATES it
As an owl hybrid, you harbored incredible hearing and used it to your advantage, along with your night vision. The only issue with this fact was that your animal side was nocturnal. Thankfully, you’d trained your human side to follow the schedule of a regular soldier back in your rookie days, but with more stressful missions coming about sometimes your hybrid side would peek through, giving you instinctual bouts of insomnia, of a sort. Naturally, this led to the captain introducing a curfew for the team, though actually designed for you.
Tonight, you couldnt get an ounce of sleep no mattter how many times you twisted or turned or even ruffled your feathers. It seemed near impossible, a feeling in your chest driving you with an insatiable need to explore and potentially hunt. Your wings spread as you stand, stretching out to their full size before relaxing. You often tucked them behind you, as it was more convenient but with the lack of people around it was more than normal to let them stretch for a bit. As you make your way to the common room, your bleary eyes finally readjust to the surroundings and you instantly notice the clink of a glass as it settles on the counter. Having now rubbed away the sleep in your eyes, you can faintly see the outline of a familiar mask, only the white bone marks showing despite your night vision.
He doesn’t bother waiting for your greeting, stepping out of the kitchen towards where you stand; your wings unintentionally form a curtain around your body— like a blanket almost. “You know the drill, back to bed, bird.” You mentally groan, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm. Of all the people to get caught awake by, the Lieutenant was by far the worst option. Not only was he practically the epitome of stoicism, but you’re convinced that he just has everything against you. Thankfully, it’s not in a ‘hybrids are disgusting creatures’ way, but more of ‘you’re a rookie and you need to be better’ way. After all, your training sessions with him are no joke. Despite that, you aren't particularly scared of him, despite the infamous reputation of the mask he wears. No, not when you know well that the Captain has far more authority over him— and over you too but that’s besides the point.
”But Lt…” You complain, flopping back on the small couch in the common room, intrigued by a packet of biscuits there. “You know I can't sleep, it’s not fair.” As expected, he doesnt take well to your excuses, only rolling his eyes up at you before snatching the biscuit pack. He places it on a higher shelf than usual, ensuring you can't have it. “Don’t care, go back to bed.” He tugs you easily off the couch, pushing you lightly towards the door.
“Aren't you awake too?”
“Do I get sleepy and grumpy during training?” You want to say yes, because you know damn well that he’s acted particularly grumpy once after getting minimal sleep. Then again, he is right about you getting annoyed during training. Regardless, even if you go back to bed, you won't be able to sleep anyways, the instinctual urge will probably just make you climb your walls. “I don't wanna just stare at the ceiling. C’mon, I just wanna walk around a bit. I won't stay up all night.”
He raises a brow at that, knowing damn well what happened last time he caught you up at this time and then he takes another step towards you, causing you to back up. “Told you, I dont care. Back to bed, now. Or i’ll carry you and duct tape you to your bed” He backs you against the door, but you’re desperate now and running on three hours of sleep. That also means you arent thinking sane in the slightest. And so, you cross your arms over your chest, a frown curving your lips.
“I’m telling Price on you.”
”You wouldnt dare.”
He stares at you, almost a challenging glare in his eyes and the bird inside you squirms, almost excited. It’s been a while since you’ve ruffled your feathers properly and this seems perfect. “Watch me.” You grin, and before he can react you’ve turned on your heel and dashed down the hallways. “You little—“
The heavy clacks of his boots start to pick up behind you, but you dont care, wings growing larger before spreading straight behind you in a way that’s almost streamlined. The height of these hallways are too low to fly, so you’ll have to rely on your legs for now. “Get back here—“ He’d growl if he was part animal too, but all he can do is grunt as you turn around another corner. He can see you rapidly approaching Price’s door now, almost barreling into the wood as you quickly knock. Awake as usual, Price calls you in and you turn at the last moment to flash him a cheeky grin before darting inside.
“You basta-“ He huffs as he stands in Price’s doorway, watching you sitting on the edge of his bed as you frown all innocently. “What the hell is going on here?”
He can only grumble, his hand grasping the door frame as Price frowns at him, clearly more amused than anything.
“He’s being mean to me— he wouldnt let me get a glass of water.”
Price looks back at you and then at Ghost, raising a brow at the man despite an amused look in his eyes. He clearly found the situation laughable and even Ghost couldnt retain his anger much longer. Still, he persisted, insistent on keeping the routine.
“They’re the one who's causing a racket. It’s way past their curfew! They should be asleep.”
He whisper shouts, eyes narrowed at his captain behind the surgical mask. Price just sighs, pushing the papers away; it was clearly time they all hit the hay. “You do realise that’s all our curfews? If they have to follow it, we do too. You shouldnt be up.”
“I dont care. They should be in bed—”
Price is about to laugh again when he hears a soft snore in the room, both of their gazes shifting to where you were behind Price’s swivel chair. You were still on the bed but now your lips were parted, hands in an almost starfish position as you laid on your back. His little chase with you had knocked the insomnia right out, leaving you snoring soundly beside Price until the sun shone once more.
#hybrid au#cod hybrid au#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#call of duty drabble#call of duty fanfic#cod x reader#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#cod fic#cod fanfic#cod fluff
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I wish I had 12 extra hours a day for more drawing. I'm not being greedy just half a day come on 🥺🥺🥺🥺
#my number 1 obsession; grinding my bones to dust via drawing for half my waking hours#i get annoyed humans have needs just cause it gets in the way#all I need is art cut out the basic needs fr#yesterday i had to leave my room just to avoid sitting down to draw again so i could actually have a break cause my hand was in pain lmao#i stretch sure but holding a pen for like 12 hours a day for weeks still gets ur hands in the end#plus i mean i do got them disablities lmao#this post is just an excuse to lay down n rest my back I want to get back to my current pieces#i cannot wait to post em#one is flats the other is a sketch they'll be posted as a pair#perfectly phone wallpaper size btw so yah u could consider it my first attempt at a wallpaper#i dont think ive made one before this#rambling in the tags#txt.exe#its gonna be more izu n jun content#using half names so this post aint in the character tags lmao#otome dissection x izu n jun its looking cool so far#the vibe fits them both quite well in different ways honestly#im so normal about them
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Reading MW takes on Twitter is like reading a summary of the Bible from someone who only watched like a Family Guy family special about it
#did we play the same game? did we see the same themes yes themes as in plural#like my god get off ur fucking high horses or stop trying to make a unique theory just to be unique#like if it clearly doesn’t fit the plot it causes unnecessary arguments#people are weird and weirdly obsessed with making like the issues in the game solely interpersonal when it is clearly very institutional#with everything we learn about PE and how hard they make it to seek justice or safety#and ur treating it like the average person is a horrible troll monster#when the game really tries to show you how humans people become bad or can be enabled to do their worse through many different ways#but go ahead make it seem like all the men are like willingly Jimmy’s goon squad of predator enablers pls pls pls just look from another#view point I’m begging yall sometimes it’s good to leave those echo chambers#like taking parts of conversations out of context to make characters look better or worse is literally a tactic Jimmy uses ur using Jimmy#tactics to prove ur point dummy head#side tag tangent I am also very annoyed with how many people really do think Curly could’ve just had changes made to the ship during the#travel like a big point is that they barely had resources to just survive regularly#other than random scrap and wires for serious repairs they def didn’t just have locks laying about nor are the doors outside of medical and#the cockpit are suited to install locks like the whole point of the illusion of choice#is that at the end the options presented were never gonna be viable whether it was because of the time needed to execute them the standards#they were under or their lack of resources all mainly caused by PE no matter how much Curly#wanted to do something there’s very little he could’ve#even the ideas posed we have would have only happened after the assault and done little to actually stop the crash when you think about it#and it’s sad and sounds weird but that’s the case#mouthwashing
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impaled
#nathan being impaled on that tetanus inducing loose steel pipe. tho tetanus is the least of his worries on account of. well u know 🕳#nathan can be a body horror fans best friend if u let him into ur heart. living human crash dummy#i really cant believe he gets impaled. twice.#hole moment!#love turning nathans immortality round in my head. but healing factor....?#thinkin today about how the video game guy tim threatens to cut one of them in half with a chainsaw and simon is like:#[😐nathan u obviously have to volunteer]#but what woulda actually happened if that followed through [probably why it didnt lol]#would the others have had to drag each severed bit of him back to the community centre and let his guts re fuse#fucking hold him together with gaffer tape and plasters. cause i doubt he coulda regrown a whole half#his 'healing factor' only comes into play when he dies. fresh canvas etch a sketch reboot and all that. hes not fuckin wolverine#all the deaths r: impaled on fence. impaled on pipe. beaten to death. blows his own brains out. falls and snaps his neck#but chainsaw... ? one can ponder. fingers to head i can imagine anything image#readin his wiki rn 'his body will never get sick. rot. age. or truly grow old'#may not get sick but he can still shit his guts out. hashtag oblivious lactose intolerant king hashtag milk drinker#forever the worlds most annoying twenty yr old#and then the wiki goes 'the user does not need to eat drink or breathe' ....hello#ive rotated him not aging any further cause it lines up with the whole stuck in his ways. never changing [kelly voice: its just who u are]#but eatin and drinking and breathing??? we know he still experiences hunger [<-kebab]#and he dunks his head in a bucket of water when hes testin for powers with simon. gaspin for air afterwards right#firm believer in the. he suffocated to death several times in the coffin before they dug him up#oh waaait. is it stating this like. he doesnt need foodwaterair. cause it doesnt matter if he dies.. ohhhhhh..... Oh..😃#staring at nathan sleeping in the community centre surviving on bags of crisps from the vendies so hard i burn holes through my monitor#this got away from me. uh. living crash dummy. oil pastel guts and water colour jumpsuit yessir#having fun doin art. expect more hole art. sorryfor putting this in the misfits tag hehe. not really#gore#blood#misfits#my art#chewtoy
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cherry popper — jake
jake x reader
getting your cherry popped by the sweet, popular athletic boy. who is also your best friend
adult content featured, read at your own discretion
[sorry not proof read]
“jake i’m a virgin.”
“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?”
your eyes never looked away from jake sim. athletic, popular and smart. triple kill.
and he was your best friend.
-
studying. that’s all it was supposed to be. jake sim, your best friend, helping you with your college physics course. then it somehow turned into a human anatomy lesson. all because jake couldn’t leave his phone alone for 5 seconds and was sexting a girl during the study sessions.
“jake—yah! would you pay attention? i cannot fail this exam!” you scolded, slamming your pencil down on your notebook.
jake cleared his throat, awkwardly and embarrassingly putting down his cell phone, screen to the table. “sorry.” he apologized with a mumble.
“what’s so interesting about whoever you’re texting that you’d rather do that than help your bestie pass her physics exam?” you pouted, looking at jake with a frown and puppy dog eyes.
“oh well you see—,” jake began, but then his phone buzzed once before. he went to pick up the phone, but you snatched it before he could.
“wait, you—,” he didn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence of, “wait, you might not want to.”
you screeched, face screwing in disgust as you threw his phone to the couch. then, you whipped your head to jake in disbelief, huffing.
“i can’t believe you! you seriously are sexting another girl while helping me?”
“hey, i’m sorry okay? but she sent me—,”
you held up your hand to stop him. “don’t want to hear it jake.” you sighed. “can you stop being a horn dog for like, two hours? i know you have a high sex drive, but i was hoping soccer practice would’ve tired you out.”
you weren’t mad at his sex drive. heck, if he needed to fuck like his grades depended on it, then so be it. you weren’t the one to stop him. but it did annoy you he couldn’t just turn it off long enough to help you study.
“if you can’t focus, i’ll ask someone else to help.”
“like who? jay?” jake laughed, joking.
“heeseung.” you smirked, knowing heeseung was just as smart as jake. and although jake and heeseung were friends, those two also had a competitive streak against one another. especially when it came to academics and girls.
you also knew jake was protective over you. all the boys did, but his was extra. you knew he probably warned the guys that you were off limits.
jake scoffed. “absolutely not, he’ll help you pass with an a minus at max.”
“and you?” you asked crossing your arms.
jake smiled. “i can get you that a plus.”
“jake, you can’t make miracles happen. i just need a minimum b average.”
“you know i like to go above and beyond, baby.” he winked, causing you to laugh.
“let’s just get back to work, okay?”
“okay. only because my phone disappeared in the couch.” he pouted. “she’s not gonna be happy i left her dry.”
you waved it off. “pretty sure she has a box full of toys to help her out.”
“do you?” jake asked.
your head slowly turned to jake as you was writing down a problem. “do i what?” you looked at him confused.
“have a box full of toys?”
your eyes went wide. “oh, uh, let’s focus on the studying!” you rushed out and turned back to your text book, aggressively poking at jake’s book.
after that, during the study session, jake would steal glances at you, wondering if his best friend did have a box full of toys. or even at least one toy.
jake has known you since you were six. growing up next door to one another in australia, it was fun.
beach days, arcade days, walking to school and back home together. watching him freak out over bugs that you had to be the one to get rid of.
you told jake everything. well, almost everything. he was open and free about his sex life with you. however, you weren’t the same.
jake can’t recall you telling him about times you’ve been with a guy in a sexual way. let alone even kissed a guy.
an hour and a half passed, before you two went off topic once again. your brain was fried, and you couldn’t imagine looking at another problem.
“im done for the night, i cant.” you closed your book dramatically, leaning against your couch, head thrown back.
“have you kissed a guy yet?”
you lifted your head. “jake, where did that even come from?”
jake shrugged. “just thinking about how you know so much about my sex life, but i know nothing about yours. let alone if you’ve even kissed a guy.”
“i just don’t find the need to tell you.” you mumbled, picking invisible lint from your leg.
“but why? i thought we were best friends?”
“jake, we are. there’s just never anything to tell, okay?”
“okay so tell me,” jake began, turning his body to face yours, leaning his side against the couch, “have you kissed a boy?”
“of course jake.”
“who? where? when?”
“now you sound like me and my girl friends gossiping.”
“i can be that if that’s what makes you more comfortable.”
you chuckled. “it’s fine jake.” you got comfortable leaning on your side to face him. “my first kiss was in middle school when i went on holiday with my family. second kiss was in our upper years,”
“with who?” jake’s eyebrows raised.
you smacked your lips together, “uh, yang jeongin.”
jake gasped, then laughed. “he insisted he wasn’t even going to kiss a girl until he got married!”
“yeah well,” you shrugged.
“is that all?” jake asked.
you looked down, the floor suddenly looking fun. “well, no. there’s one more.”
“who is it? when? tell me!” jake begged, getting on his knees, grabbing your hands in his.
you sighed rolling your eyes. looking at jake you said, “it was heeseung, just two months ago. more of a make out than just a kiss.”
jake let go of your hands. not mad at you, but shocked and surprised. but he was mad at heeseung as he told his friends you were clearly off limits.
“why heeseung?”
“it was at that party you dragged me to, jake. i was bored, you left me to go hook up with a girl, so heeseung kept me company.”
jake stared at you, unblinking. “so what? i’m not around and he takes his chance to get in your pants?”
“jake it’s not like that! all we did was make out, okay? he didn’t want to go further, i didn’t want to go further. it was just for fun.”
“who else knew?”
“sunghoon and jungwon. but i begged them not to say anything.”
jake scoffed in disbelief. “do you promise that’s all you did?”
“yes jake. i don’t understand why it bothers you so much! i haven’t opened my legs like a slut for your friends, okay?”
“i don’t mean it like that—,”
you stood up, now angry for some reason. “it’s getting late. you should go. i’m tired and i am sure you are too from practice. thank you for helping me.”
you walked off to your bathroom, knowing jake can let himself out.
and that he did. he walked out, ready to confront his best friend, forgetting about his cellphone, until he got to his shared apartment with his 2 other roommates, sunghoon and jay.
“is heeseung coming over?” jake asked.
jay and sunghoon were playing video games in the living room. jay answered, “not that i’m aware of? he had a late practice then a study group right after.”
jake huffed. “sunghoon, i have a bone to pick with you!”
“what did i do?”
“you knew heeseung made out with my best friend and didn’t tell me?”
jay gasped like a teen girl. “no!”
sunghoon rolled his eyes, “it wasn’t my business to tell! honestly, it’s none of your business too. just because you’re open about your sex life about other girls to her doesn’t mean she has to be the same way.”
“bullshit! it is my business.”
“you’re her best friend, not her boyfriend. she can be around any other guy without you butting in.” sunghoon stated. “even if that means it’s heeseung.”
jake kept quiet, and just stormed off to his room in a mood. as he laid on his bed, that’s when he realized he left his phone at your place.
he slapped his hands over his face and groaned.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
the next day, you took jake his phone to his apartment. sunghoon answered the door as he was on his way to the ice rink.
you tried to hand it over to sunghoon but he shook his head. “you give it to him. i’m in a rush, and i am sure jake has some apologies to give.” sunghoon patted your shoulder before leaving you in the door way.
you took off your shoes, making your way to jake’s room. you knocked twice, and heard a faint ‘come in.’
jake didn’t even attempt to look up from his bed. “sunghoon if you’re here to just scold me before you leave for the day don’t bother. jay already scolded me about my actions.” then he went on to say that he knew he owed you an apology.
“can you say that a bit louder, i didn’t have my phone recording?” you chuckled.
jake sat up quickly from bed. since he was laying on his stomach, he sat up on all fours in doggy style looking at you like a kid who just woke up for christmas.
“you’re here?”
“well first, you left your phone at my apartment. but now i believe there’s an apology to be owed to me?”
jake nodded, getting off his bed, to walk to you as you stood in his door. he apologized for getting upset about you kissing heeseung.
“whoever you have sex with is none of my business, okay?”
“jake, i—,”
jake didn’t let you finish as he pulled you into a tight hug. “i’m sorry. you can slut yourself out to whomever.”
you laughed, hugging jake back, patting his back. when the hug ended, you handed jake his phone. “i wonder how mad she is.”
jake’s phone battery was at 0%. “well, i guess we’ll find out after it charges.” he laughed.
you and jake decided to watch a movie, in the meantime ‘sidelined: the qb and me.’
“ugh, so cheesy and cliche.”
you elbowed jake. “i like cheesy and cliche!”
he pinched your cheek. “of course you do.”
you stretched when the movie ended. “i could use a nap. all i dreamt about was physics.” you shuddered.
“nap it is!” jake said and grabbed you to throw you over his shoulder, walking you to his room.
he threw you on his bed, climbing in next to you.
that’s when you said, “jake, i’m a virgin.”
“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?” jake laughed. “how does that affect me?”
“well, i was only telling you because of earlier.”
“oh.” jake realized. “my bad. but still, it’s none of my business who you have sex with, unless it’s me.”
you nearly choked on air. “and just why would i have sex with you?”
“best friends have sex all the time.” jake said.
you both were laying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling during this conversation.
“jake not best friends. maybe friends with benefits.”
“and we can’t be both?”
you sat up, looking down at your friend with confusion written across your face.
“jake? where is this coming from?”
“baby, if you think i never thought about having sex with you not once since we were teens, you are mistaken.”
“jake—,”
“why else would i run off my friends and other guys?”
“then why else would you have sex with other girls if you so called wanted me in bed?”
jake shrugged. “my dick could only take so much of my hand, babe.”
you groaned, “jake!” and fell back on his bed. this time, he sat up. he rolled to his side, palm on your thigh.
shivers went up and throughout your body.
truth be told, you may have thought about sex with jake once or twice. it didn’t really bother your head until you heard a girl in your class stating he once made her come so hard she passed out.
you wanted to know what that felt like. or if it was even possible.
“i heard it’s painful.” you sighed truthfully, turning your head to look into jake’s eyes. as usual, he had on his puppy dog look, thick lips pouting.
“for some babe, yes it is.” jake said, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. his thumb then glided softly from your cheek to your bottom lip.
“how badly?” you asked in a whisper, the tension between you two thickening.
“it just depends on the girl, and if she’s having sex with the right partner.” jake replied softly, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips. “for me, making sure my girl is comfortable and relaxed. making sure i touch her in the right places.”
all while talking, jake’s fingertips ghosted along your thigh, hips, sides, up the side of your breasts. your skin cluttered with goosebumps, your breathing fastening, both you and jake breathing heavily, just inches away from each other.
with one last flick from your eyes to your lips, jake slowly leaned in for a kiss, capturing your lips in his.
and more than you could imagine, his lips were so soft and thick. and he didn’t straightly use his tongue. the kiss was so slow and sensual, building up the tension between both of you.
jake carefully hovered over you, so you were flat on your back, your hands raising to wrap around his neck. jake’s right hand went to push down your pants and underwear as far as he could.
you giggled removing your lips. “moving quite fast there, huh?”
jake smiled, “can’t help it baby, been waiting too damn long to be inside you.”
jake kissed your lips once more, before scooting down, taking off your bottoms completely, not even bothering to warn you.
his tongue met your core, and you immediately let out a loud gasp, at the unknown feeling. “oh,” you whispered out.
it didn’t feel bad, but it felt weird. foreign.
“don’t worry baby, it’ll feel good. give me a second.” jake said, and went back to your core, using his tongue, lips, teeth, and soon his finger.
“oh!” you squealed with a gasp, then moaned. your lower half began squirming, causing jake to hold you down by your hips with his left hand.
with him holding you down, the intensity amplified, and your hand went to his soft hair. jake added a second finger, your leg resting over his shoulder.
“too much, jake.” you sighed out.
“gotta stretch you out. im pretty thick, honey.”
“that doesn’t help, jake!” you groaned, in-between fussing at him and how good he was making you feel.
“to be fair, i asked if you had any toys.” jake chuckled, fingers still buried in you. only he was sitting up, eyes looking into yours intensely.
“i thought you were joking around.” you moaned as he worked his beautiful, lengthy fingers inside of you. you could almost imagine how his veins looked on his hands.
“you still haven’t answered my question, honey.” jake said, his fingers stilling inside of you—deep and angled.
“fuck!” you moaned, annoyed he stopped. “yes jake, i have one fucking toy! now keep it moving, please.” you begged, and jake chuckled.
“anything for my bestie.”
jake worked his fingers inside of you, adding a third for a while, getting you used to the sensation. weirdly, not once did it not feel good.
jake could feel you getting wetter and wetter and knew it was perfect timing. he quickly undressed himself, then finished undressing you.
“want me to wear a condom?” jake asked and you nodded. jake grabbed a condom from his bedside table, and put it on with quick ease.
you closed your eyes in anticipation of it hurting. jake noticed, and grabbed your chin in his hand.
“look at me honey.” he said softly and you opened your eyes slowly.
he leaned down, so your noses touched, his tip waiting to enter you. he kissed your forehead once.
“don’t wait for the pain, it’ll hurt more. try to relax for me, okay? eyes on me.”
jake kept his hand on your chin, your eyes looking into his. foreheads touching, jake eased in you slowly, you biting your lower lip trying to not scrunch your face.
“it’s okay, you’re doing so well for me baby.” jake cooed, kissing your lips. “doing so well for your jakey.”
you let out a deep breath, your hands resting around his neck and shoulders, your legs open as he laid in between them, buried. your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.
jake soon finished pushing himself all the way in, causing a low moan of pain to push past your lips. your eyes snapped shut.
“jake, i can’t.” you cried.
“hey, look at me.” jake ordered and you did once more. “eyes on me, okay? you’re okay, i have you. it’s gonna hurt for a bit, but i’ll take care of you.”
“jake but—,”
“do you trust me?” jake asked, caressing your cheek and you nodded.
jake attached his lips to yours, one hand playing with your breast and nipples, as he slowly, inch by inch pushed in and out of you.
the sensation of him playing with your boobs and nipples distracted from his dick rocking in and out of you.
soon you hadn’t even noticed jake was able to pull out to the tip and push back in, your wetness leaking between the two of you.
“my baby just needed some kisses and sweet talk.” jake mumbled against your lips.
jake’s head rested against your neck, and his thrusts became faster and deeper if possible. but it felt good.
jake became a moaning mess, his moans and low growls seeming to turn you on more. he just started throwing praises your way, rolling easily off his tongue.
“good girl. so good for your best friend, huh? always wanted to have your best friend fuck you? not as innocent as i thought.”
jake’s next position had him on his knees, you flat on your back, your legs and thighs resting against the front of his body.
with how powerful his thrusts became, you were so glad no one was here because the sounds of skin slapping was so loud.
your hands reached to grip anything and everything it could. pillows, sheets, jake. jake had a tight hold on your hips as he began to pound into you, literally.
“jake!” you squealed, and felt your stomach tightening. “jake!”
“that’s it baby, say my name, over,” thrust, “and over,” thrust, “and over until your voice goes out.” thrust.
you let out a loud—scream? moan? growl?
your body began shaking afterwards, jake bullying himself back into you after your cunt just kept pushing him out.
soon, jake went still inside of you, a loud moan coming out of his own lips, his grip on your sides tightened.
it felt so hot in his room, both sweaty from the sex. tension was still high, and you knew no way things could go back to the way it was prior to this.
jake removed his dick from you, still hard and wanting a second round. but he knew you had to get some rest before even thinking about another round.
he looked down on the condom, noting no blood, and removed it before throwing it to the trash next to the bed.
“at least you used the trash for something.” you joked. jake laughed knowing you always got after him for his lack of cleanliness.
your heart began thumping hard at the thought of what happens after this. meanwhile jake’s heart was thumping because his body was ready for round 2.
before either of you could say anything, a knock came to your door.
“yo, horn dogs! jay brought us food!” heeseung yelled then laughed.
ah shit.
#fanfiction#enhypen x reader#engene#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen#enhypen au#reader x jake#jake sim#jake sim smut#jake smut#enhypen smut#virginity loss#cherry popper
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This isn't a request, just an idea I need to send in before I forget. Loan shark shark gets the address wrong and barges in to Monster Streamers apartment while they're streaming. (They aren't the one with debt, that's their neighbor)
Your stream is interrupted by persistent, loud knocks. You're about to excuse yourself, when the door bursts open, causing you to jolt out of your seat.
Could it be? The defined jaws, the scarred tail resting on board, muscular shoulders, the elegant, expensive suit...they all remind you of SharkMan - your loyal follower. You've only met him a handful of times, though his looks, you believe, are unique enough that there's no mistake.
"Why, I was just about to open the door," you muster up, reluctantly.
You didn't expect him to be this nonchalant. What's the urgency? He never hinted any kind of intention to visit you.
"Time to pay up," he barks with an annoyed frown.
Isn't it the other way around, usually? Now that you think about it, you have recently commented that he should loosen up a little. Maybe this is his way of joking around.
"Sure, what method of payment would you prefer?"
You wink at him playfully.
What? He stares at you, baffled. Who the hell just offers themselves like that? Then again...you're definitely cute. And he's never seen a human before. He ponders your offer, arms crossed.
Meanwhile, the chat is in shambles.
LizardKing5: Who the fuck is that? Did someone just break into (Y/N)'s apartment??? SharkMan: Outrageous! Unbelievable! I will be calling the authorities on this SharkMan: BROTHER??? HornyMantis: well tell your brother to stop interrupting my live show HornyMantis: turn around (Y/N) HornyMantis: boobs
[Monster Streaming Series] | [Shark Loan Shark]
#monster streaming#shark loan shark#monster x reader#monster x human#monster fucker#terato#teratophillia
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Self-aware Honkai Star rail characters opinion on you being a streamer.
Characters: Acheron, Jingliu, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio
————
Acheron
“How… irritating” she said her annoyance overtaking her entire mood and body language. Being forced to be on stage for people SHE didn’t nor about NOR care about.
Why must you make her suffer like this? She loves you, with all her being. But why are you airing her out to the world.. those ‘viewers’ of yours.
And that’s another thing. How do they get to watch you? You shouldn’t make yourself a fool for such unworthy humans. Have they even offered you a thing?
“Ayyy~ thanks for the bits and 20”
….you’d allow them your gaze for a mere 20 credits? (Money) either your benevolence shines brighter, or it’s blinding you.
“Chat what do we think of Acheron? I fuckin’ love this woman, she’s SOOO fuckin’ helpful for grinding and destroying the enemies… white bar health… yeah cause that’s what it’s called…please don’t clip that…”
Acheron could feel herself blushing, so she quickly performs her idle animation, leaning against her sword trying to hide the blush and smile slowly forming on her face.
Chatter—“She’s good, but she keeps taking your attention from us :,(”
Instantly her giddiness is sucked away and locked in a coffin as utter annoyance and disdain grips her with an iron fist “Storm's on the horizon, heading towards you”
“That was perfectly fucking timed… did that sound different to anyone else?” Despite acherons slip up, that hatefulness holds her tighter, refusing to let go.
In short, She loves you-she’s OBSESSED with you. But she WILL kill these ‘viewers’ if they stary your attention away from her one more time.
Jingliu
“What makes THEM so deserving of your gaze?”
Jingliu is similar to Acheron, but tripled. Unlike Acheron, she doesn’t bother to hide her hatred for those viewers.
Chat: Yo (Streamer Name) you should-
Jingliu: Your Ready for death.
She says it like a statement and not a question. She hates these creatures who take your gaze off of her, she hates how a measly 5 credits is enough to get your attention.
Your benevolence is your best quality, but also the one that’s easily manipulated, which simply makes her despise the fact that you’re TOO kind.
Jingliu hates the fact that your a streamer more then her not being able to ‘cut the stars’ with her sword. Why must you test her loyalty like this?
Is this even a test or a punishment for her crimes? Either way, this is too cruel. Being forced in the sidelines for a bunch of people who don’t offer you anything of value.
Is her crit damage/rate not good enough for you? Are her stellar jades not of the highest quality? Perhaps her blade needs more… BLOODSHED.
Unlike Acheron, jingliu would VERY MUCH commit crimes to gain your attention. Like breaking the fourth wall, taking an enemies or allies turn to attack, KILLING her allies so that your attention would be on her completely.
In short, she’s a much more blunt and unrestrained Acheron.
Aventurine
“Such Troublesome detractors…”
Out of everyone in the game, he’s definitely the most laid back about your occupation. Mostly due to his luck.
Course he’s annoyed that some no-named randoms are taking the attention from his god off of him for seconds, but it’s really nothing.
It’s extremely lucky that the characters haven’t killed him out of jealousy (see what I did there?) This fuckin’ Avgin gets the most attention thanks to his kit and luck.
Y/n: Thanks for the Dono-
Aventurine: Eyes on me~
Y/n: Ooo~ yes sir~
Aventurine has a UNIVERSAL shit-eating grin while others are glaring death incarcerated soul-sucking daggers into him.
Aventurine would probably join in on the thanks if a viewer sends you money/bits/cheers n’ shit.
Not much to really say here, he’s just laid back to the whole thing.
Dr. Veritas Ratio
“Stop this nonsense. Immediately”
Dr. Raito fuckin growls anytime everytime you boot up the game, cause he knows 99.9% of the time your going to be joined by those brainless viewers.
He’s completely baffled as to why a being such as yourself would degraded yourself to such… idiocy.
There’s only two possible reasons as to why you’d commit such acts. 1. Your benevolence blinds your logical reasoning, 2. You… enjoy it.
Dr. Ratio’s opinion on the viewers is that their brainless insects, he doesn’t even care enough to be annoyed by them, they’re just THAT low level of importance to him.
Y/n: Hey “Streamer Name” who’s your favorite character?
Dr. Ratio: Do you have answers?
Y/n: I- that was perfectly timed.. DO infact have answers. It’s (anyone that isn’t him)
Dr. Ratio: Fail… Get Out!
(If it is him)
Dr. Ratio: Perfect… Twenty Points.
————
What we thinking about this one chat?
#male reader#honkai star rail#self aware hsr#self aware au#romance#streamer reader#acheron#jingliu#aventurine#Acheron x male reader#jingliu x male reader#aventurine x male reader#dr. ratio#dr. ratio x male reader#sahsrau#self aware honkai star rail#unhealthy obsession#yandere characters#yandere x male reader#honkai star rail x male reader#self aware honkai star rail x male reader#sahsr x male reader#sahsrau x male reader
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hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad
ty lovely 💌 fem
“Oh,” you say, “of course.”
You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent.
How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.
“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?”
You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?”
“I heard the engine turn over.”
“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it.
“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”
James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.
“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.”
“You don’t have to go?”
“What?”
“You have rugby today.”
“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.”
James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out.
“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.
James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.”
He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.”
“So it’s definitely the battery?”
“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen.
Your breath gets caught.
“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned.
“I… maybe I did. I think so.”
“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?”
“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.
James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.”
“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.
“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face.
His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car.
James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends.
He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert.
“What are your plans tonight?”
Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.”
“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”
“What do you do with all your time?”
“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.”
You startle. “You and Sirius live together?”
James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?”
“You come in different cars.”
“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.”
James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome.
That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much.
To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…
Well, he couldn’t have. Right?
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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Rating HSR characters in relationships
Title is self-explanatory <3
Characters: Boothill, Dr Ratio, Blade, Aventurine (separately)
⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰
CW: cursing, mostly fluff and some crack
CW Aventurine's part: toxic dynamics, emotional neglect, jealousy, Aventurine in general
Lmk if there's any warnings I should add!
Had to restrain myself on Dr. Ratio I have soo bad brain worms about him rn he’s all I think about
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Boothill
10/10
DO NOT. AT ME. I PROMISE I’VE THOUGHT THIS THROUGH. I know most people who read that will be like “what the fuck Boothill would NOT be a perfect partner” and that’s where you’re right ! No, he would be an awful partner !
For MOST people.
But see, he wouldn’t be just ANYONE’S partner.
If you’re dating him, it means you’re exactly his type and he’s exactly yours. You wouldn’t date a guy like him if he wasn’t exactly what you wanted. He lays out all his cards on the table right away. Your relationship won’t have the chance to even begin if you’re not head over heels immediately bro 😭😭😭
With most characters I can imagine them in a relationship with a lot of different kinds of people. Like for example yeah I can imagine Aventurine both dating someone more reserved and sweet or someone bold and loud. Or someone like Argenti Lord knows that man could love ANYONE (or anyTHING tbh), but with Boothill there’s just a very narrow range of personalities I can imagine him with. Hence the rating cause he’d only be in one kind of relationship.
You guys are a POWER COUPLE I tell you. It’s SICKENING how much you love each other and how well you fit together. Two peas in a pod. I’m gonna throw up.
You both love the exact same things, you both HATE the exact same things, and you are both equally deranged and insane
The IPC hates to see you coming 💀🙏
You’re constantly in a friendly competition to outdo each other. Who has the higher bounty ? (Usually him) Who can drink most alcohol before blacking out ? (You, surprisingly) Who can kiss the other the most times during this high-speed chase ? (You always tie on this)
He swallows a bullet. You say “I’ll do you one better!” and swallow a knife. You are a human and so he needs to take you to the hospital so you don’t fucking die
(You both think it’s funny afterwards so it’s okay)
Even when you guys “argue” it’s never really that serious. Honestly you both think it’s kind of hot…… you argue in a devious, sexy way……. *smirks mischievously*
Sorry I cannot take him seriously
You match his freak <3
Nobody fucking likes you together. Separately ? Sure people like you. But the moment the two of you are in the same room it’s like you merge into one singular, horrible, annoying entity and NOBODY wants to be around to see it 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 neither of you have gotten a lecture about how inappropriate pda can be and also the two of you speak total nonsense it’s incomprehensible to everyone else
Considering putting Boothill on my “do not request” list, not because I don’t like him but because even I don’t understand how the two of you would fit together I can’t write it y’all are that weird
Boothill is for the freaks and he is PERFECT FOR THEM !!!
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Dr. Ratio
9/10
Okay I’ll be honest I’m not very caught up on Dr Ratio (I briefly hated him I only recently started liking him again HELP) so forgive me if there is some mischaracterisation in this I’m working on it my view on him isn’t complete yet 🙏🙏
Though Ratio is very ruled by logic, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions. Furthermore, he views these emotions as important. Logic is not inherently opposed to emotions, and in fact, ignoring them would be illogical.
That is to say, yes, he’s an intellectual man. But he also has a high emotional intelligence 😇😇
Like not in the way of knowing how to cope with them. I don’t think he feels many strong emotions regularly (except for annoyance lol), so I think he in fact gets kind of overwhelmed by them around you and never knows how to regulate them properly HELP
But what I meant to say is that, in a relationship, he considers your thoughts and feelings a lot and makes an effort to prioritise them. He does not want for you to be unhappy.
He values you very highly. He takes all your opinions into consideration and treats them with respect.
He loves you a lot it’s actually ridiculous. He frequently gets annoyed at himself for how much he finds himself downright SIMPERING over you.
And like yes Ratio can be very harsh in the way he speaks but I think that 1, his care for people (including the “fools” and “idiots” he seems to scorn so often) shows and it shows even more apparently for people he cares about, and 2 I think he realises it would be inappropriate to be as rude as he usually is to you. You two are in a relationship, you are not some stranger. He cannot go around criticising you constantly, that would not be a healthy dynamic. Meaning he softens his vocabulary for you.
His care for you is very blatantly obvious. In the beginning I think he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection. He hasn’t ever dated anyone, much less been in a relationship, with anyone before you (I honestly don’t even think he’s had his first kiss 😭😭), so I think his inexperience plays a part in it. But he still shows you as obviously as he can that he loves you, and he doesn’t shy away from vulnerability in private moments.
Bro has researched how to be a good partner trust 🤞
He communicates very clearly with you as often as possible. He hates misunderstandings, and tries to avoid them whenever possible. The two of you are almost always on the same page.
Whenever you argue, he still does not want you to leave the argument feeling unloved. Type to sigh, let his eyes soften and say “I believe it would be best if we both had some time to cool down”, then squeeze your shoulder as he passes you out of the room. Kisses you goodnight before you go to sleep. It’s often easier to talk it out the next day.
The only things bumping him down from a 10/10 for me is the fact that he doesn’t have that much time to spare for time with only you (his schedule is very packed), and the fact that he cannot cope with his OWN emotions 😭 Great with yours because he can logistically figure out how to handle them, terrible with his own because they’re affecting his own mind and he isn’t used to it
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Blade
7/10
Surprisingly high rating for a guy like him but I swear I’ve thought about this ok don’t leave 😔😔😔
I think it takes…. A lot. Like a lot a lot. To break through Blade’s tough outer shell
He hates letting people in so much it’s actually crazy
The closest person he has before he meets you is probably Kafka, and that’s not really by his own choice he would shut her out too if he could 😭😭
(Not to say he isn’t like, calm and polite to people. He’s pretty reserved and just, like, quiet ig usually, he only really gets weird and aggressive when the Mara flares up or he needs to be for a mission. I just mean he isn’t gonna be open and available for basically anyone lol)
It’s mainly difficult to GET INTO a relationship with Blade, but if you do manage it, it turns out a lot sweeter than you’d expect
He’s just a deeply tired man. He is not malicious, he is not unnecessarily cruel. He is worn out and sick of living, of never getting the rest he so desperately craves. He finds some sort of respite in you, and so he treasures you.
He trusts your judgement. He stands by you, no matter what. He’s loyal to a fault once you have him. The worst that could ever happen to him now is losing you. Even when he thinks you’re about to do something stupid (and he always tells you when he thinks it’s stupid), he’ll come with you. Better he’s there to take the hit for you than letting you go alone.
Even with the smaller things, he shows it even more obviously. He cooks you dinner and lunch every day, so you don’t have to. He lets you decorate his apartment, and he never adjusts the things you place in it, even when it clashes horribly with his own style. He lets you drag him along anywhere, whether it be a concert or a park, without complaint.
The main downsides with Blade are that he never, ever, verbally tells you that he loves you. Maybe once during your entire relationship he’ll say it, and probably when you’re on your deathbed, but he usually won’t. Even if you try to pry it out of him.
He can be really mean in the way he says things sometimes, like telling you straight up your ideas are dumb, but it’s always softened by the way he agrees to do whatever you want anyways.
Another frustrating thing is how he cares very little for his own wellbeing. It’s a regular occurrence for him to come home with guts spilling out of his abdomen, and it’s really uncomfortable to see even if you know he can’t die. He can still feel pain, even if he’s learnt to cope with it well. It’s scary to see him so hurt so often.
But you wouldn’t get into a relationship with him if you didn’t already know all this, hence why I rank him so high. He’s a lot better than you expected when you met him, which means you’re effectively in a better relationship than you’d have hoped 😭😭
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Aventurine
4/10 💀💀
I love him so much (my content is mostly Aventurine centric) but holy fuck man,,,
I have never and will never sugarcoat it Aventurine is TOXIC. Like GENUINELY. I wouldn’t say abusive but he can be really cruel. He gets lost in his own head and takes it out on you in ways he doesn’t really mean to. Aventurine is not a good person.
He’s fucked up in all sorts of ways and it’s no surprise it could easily destroy any relationship
Trust issues ? Jealousy issues ? Commitment issues ? Attachment issues ? Insecurity issues ? Mommy, daddy AND sister issues ? Every kind of possible issue you can probably imagine ? Yes on all fronts, bro’s the full issue package 💀
It would take a very special kind of person to endure in a relationship with him (I would not be able to do it if he was real I’ll be so honest)😭
When things are good, they’re really good. He can be so fun and playful and sweet and he loves to spoil you and everything that belongs to him belongs to you. He loves you more than the air he breathes and he’d do anything to make you happy
The issue is, most of the time, things are not in fact good.
I keep mentioning it but his relationships are always such a push and pull. A game of hot and cold. One second he clings to you and begs you to never leave him, and the next he won’t respond to your calls or messages.
Even worse, sometimes he’ll be outright mean in order to push you away, insinuating you’re “holding him down” and that you’re “wasting his time”. You’ll find yourself questioning if he actually does love you, because what sort of person does this to someone they love?
(It keeps him up at night when he treats you badly. He hates doing it, but he needs you to hate him as much as he hates himself.)
Usually he’s a really smart guy. Even when he does stupid things (things like making a purposeless high-risk gamble, playing Russian roulette), he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. (He does it because he kind of hopes he’ll actually die this time.) But with you, he loses all his composure and can’t really think straight.
He feels safe with you, and that scares him. He’s a danger to your safety, and it’s better to push you away, make you hate him, than it is to let himself be happy with you. His life is beyond saving, so all he can do to you if you stay is drag you into his mess. He can’t fix himself, not even for your sake.
He lies to you, he neglects you (sometimes for weeks at a time), he builds up new walls between you constantly, but at the same time he gets insecure and jealous when you hang out with others. Only when you threaten to leave him does he finally start getting his act together, because he realises that now that he’s had you, he couldn’t bear to live without you (even if he knows that’s very selfish of him).
He gets better with time, but I really, really doubt he’ll ever be fully healed. It doesn’t help that his job wouldn’t really allow it, and he can’t leave the IPC through any other means than death.
I originally ranked him as a 3/10 (diabolically low rating I know 💀💀) but I bumped him up one because he will get better. If you stick around long enough, he’d probably make it to a 7/10, but since that would take like over 4 years of being in a relationship with him I felt it would be unfair to rank him much higher 😭😭 At the start he really fucking sucks dude I’m so sorry my condolences
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3
#[boothill]#[dr ratio]#[blade]#[aventurine]#[by me]#boothill x reader#dr ratio x reader#blade x reader#aventurine x reader#veritas x reader#veritas ratio x reader#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine hsr#hsr aventurine#reader x aventurine#reader x boothill#reader x dr ratio#reader x blade#blade hsr#hsr blade#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#dr ratio#veritas ratio#boothill#hsr boothill#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr x you#reader insert
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I am sure you are all aware of the current state of the fandom. I have done my best to avoid all of the controversy, but seeing how others have voiced their concerns I would like to as well.
I, as an artist, do not feel safe in the Rain World fandom.
I have expressed this in the past, but I have been the victim of false pedophile and grooming allegations with the use of manipulated and doctored screenshots. I do not have the words to articulate just how psychologically damaging it is to have an entire fandom turn on you in an instant. To have your social life destroyed. To have hundreds or even thousands of people celebrate your downfall, simply because you annoyed them, because now they have a "reason" to. Watching this fandom gleefully parade around shaky evidence and happily participate in this type of behavior is sickening to me. It makes me worry that someday, I will annoy someone enough to have another false allegation made against me, and I will have to go through that again. There is a part of me that believes I would not survive such a thing. I am not trying to be dramatic when I say that, but people need to realize that "internet drama" can cause serious harm your mental health. I still have PTSD nightmares related to the callout post made about me from 3 years ago. This is not something you can just “get over”.
People need to remember fanartists are not paragons of grace, nor are they perfect. The fact that the internet has allowed people to dehumanize artists into "content machines" that must never slip up rather than human beings who are messy and awkward and can fuck up at times is sickening. I do not feel comfortable in a fandom that jumps at the opportunity to harass someone over a mistake, that stirs up a witchunt over what boils down to miscommunications. A fandom that treats every situation as black and white and doesn't wait for all the evidence to come out.
I believe nyuuronfly put it best in their post:
"It is not inspiring to sit around and get attention in an atmosphere where the more attention you get the more you know many of the eyes that are looking toward you are searching for a weak point to go after."
I understand revealing a lot of my trauma in this post is a potentially stupid decision, but I believe my story can help make people realize the genuine harm callout posts cause. It is not fun having to deal with constant paranoia that hundreds of people are praying on your downfall. I have considered not posting about, or simply deleting my rot au many times because of worry that someone will think it's too “dark” or “problematic” and decide I am the fandom's #1 punching bag for months.
As of now, I will not be deleting, nor will I stop posting art. But I have considered it many times, and this behavior as of late brought me the closest I've ever been to doing so. I love rain world and frankly, I don't want to feel this way about the fandom! I want this place to be positive, I want better for this game. I'm not mad, just disappointed.
TL;DR:
PLEASE for the LOVE OF GOD stop reblogging callout posts.
Fanartists are PEOPLE. They are giving you FREE art. Treat them better.
You are not immune to false screenshots, mob mentality, and black and white thinking.
Rain world is a gorgeous, creative, and deeply moving game. Please, let's work to make this community reflect that.
#rain world#rain world downpour#0303emily#pansear doodles#fuckshippingcontainer#rw#dibz rambles#feel free to reblog#i want people to see this and understand how damaging their behavior can be
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Ꮺ˖˚₊ leeches, [ logan howlett x vampire!reader au ]
summary — logan howlett lacks of patience (and he can also be a nice little blood-bag while losing his temper). 8k+
warnings — 18+ mdni, fem!reader implied, blood kink (keep in mind you’re a vampire! not twilight but more of a true blood kind?) downright filth im sorry, dead dove do not eat, smoker!reader, endless tension, manhandling, praise kink, kind of porn without plot (LIES CAUSE IT HAS ONE THO??) my boy's into paaaaaain can't help it it's canon, age-gap at first (reader is her 20's but again, vampire), public sex (it just happened), daily reminder to wrap it before you tap it, p in v, choking, filthy mouth, pet names.
side notes — thought this could take place after days of the future past? au cause why nottttt ,,currently on ovulation season so bare with me,,, been a little mia cause i’m surviving aka going through the worst semester of my life at uni? internships are breaking my ass currently so well, here i am just existing, also, english’s not my first language and everyday i’m grateful for it, so any mistakes i’m not sorry in advance lol i’m also too lazy to correct once published,, feel free to send more logan requests since i've basically been a slut for him for a while now (i'm rotting in hell).
He could swear the mansion got ten degrees hotter when you came in.
It’s inevitable. It’s this thing you carry, the way you move — Graceful, elegant, almost compelling as the air fills the room. It’s not public knowledge that you’re not a mutant itself, yet you’re presented like one, like you have healing factors and age painfully slow, but human after all, a subtle lie, one that can harm no one.
It’s safe to say you catch his attention in the most annoying way: How couldn’t you? All you do is this weird seduction he’s appealed to, whether you’re conscious or not it’s just captivating, an invisible force that even when you ignore it is there, there waiting for the perfect moment to flood every time you happen to be in the same room.
Captivating. That’s the word.
The room becomes smaller after, the air grows thicker, and it’s almost like a ticking bomb, the way you wouldn’t even look at his face while he’s noticeable pinning after Jean Grey, the mystery that surrounds you and he cannot seem to resolve no matter how much time he puts into it.
It’s like he's the plague. You don’t really try to exchange more than just a few words, only when it's needed and you cannot avoid him any longer, and he didn’t say anything at first, keeping his distance too cause he don’t see how you’d become friends, cause after all, what he could have in common with a girl that doesn't surpass the twenty years?
But soon he's upset about it, even when he doesn't really say anything out loud, it's a spike he cannot reach under his skin. You seem to become friends with anyone but him, mutant kids in your history lessons, the rest of the team, even the damn mailman when he delivered a package — You'd say hello like it's a long time lover or so, greeting people like they mean the world to you.
He has students now that are asking for a transfer from his class to yours cause it seems you're fun to be around, more like he is, and he fucking hates it.
It's fair to say it's been getting into his mind lately. That thing you do with your hair, twisting it in your index finger on a lock as you speak, the subtle red glow in your eyes he always catches by mistake, not enough fast to stop looking at you, pretending he didn't even see in your direction at first.
Tension. Logan just happens to hate tension.
In fact. He's almost sure your problem is personal, that you might hate him enough to act like he didn't exist at all, enough to avoid him like he was not there.
That's why it's just so weird.
When he finds himself walking down the hallway to the kitchen and he smells this cherry-scented aroma that settles under his nostrils, he changes the direction he's walking to, to instead, follow the path to the person that was silently smoking outside. Hiding. Maybe, a student he'll have to scold like the old man he was turning into.
No smoking in the mansion!
However, as the night is just settling, he doesn't recognize a little mutant, but instead happens to recognize you in the middle of the gardens of the mansion, close to the maze; escaping the comfort of the inside to enjoy a self-rolled cherry tobacco he has smelled before in the air. He's a victim mostly, cause his legs move on it's own as his mouth go dry, approaching you in silence.
"What do you want?" you ask when he's halfway there. And your tone is just cold as ever, not an ounce of feeling as he contemplates your side profile, the way the tobacco sticks out of your parted lips, seated on a bench hidden between bushes and trees — "Is Scott bitching about the smell going into the mansion already?"
No. He's not. But he doesn't have enough reasons to explain exactly why he's outside if you asked, why, all of sudden, he followed the scent of cherry knowing it was you the only one who carried a colts package in the pocket of every single jacket you wore, constantly asking Storm if she could hold on to the bag of filters for you while you rolled in the worst moments.
It's distracting, to say the least.
"Yeah," he quickly says, lying cause in reality he hasn't seen the guy in the whole day, yet it sounds like something he would say. "Do you happen to have another one of those to share?"
You don't talk much, hand reaching his as you offered him from your tobacco without a single word, the same that was placed between your lips and now was on his in what seemed to be something more intimate than what he'd like to admit, the cherry taste filling his lungs as they weirdly enough, shared a cig.
"Aren't you too young to be smoking?"
You laugh, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine cause he has never heard a sound quite like it, nothing that resembles that throaty, raspy sound that came out of your lips in amusement thanks to his words. He, out of all people, has never seen you like that — "And how old you think I am?"
He seems to think about it for a second, carefully picking his next words. Logan knows that women and their age are a tricky thing, you cannot say a number that's too compromising, nor act stupid and say something that's clearly not correct — "Not a day over twenty-two."
The answer pleases you, and he just knows he's wrong, but you don't seem bothered by it, instead, you nod pretending he's right, like he just got the answer right away.
He can see why everyone's switching classes now. Cheeky bastards.
"Twenty-two is not young at all, but i'm twenty-seven though," you say, and he scoffs at the statement, seeking for any change in your heartbeat, any sign of a lie. The strange thing happens when he cannot pick any heart at all, any sign of pulse.
"You are pretty young still," he says, against his age, you’re just starting out living—. "You don't look like you are twenty-seven at all."
"Cause I age slower than the rest," it's a practiced lie. One you know from repeating the same explanation over and over again, the priced answer of why you haven't changed a single bit in the past few years and made you a mutant — "I never looked my age."
Such a fucking liar. He doesn't need any heartbeats to confirm it cause deep down you are a terrible actress, he can see it so clear, how you're calculating every answer, thinking about the correct thing to say, the normal thing to say.
"Is that your thing?" he asks, playing pretend almost as bad as you do. Tilting his head to the side as he questions you — "Age slowly?"
"I have healing powers," you explain as he tossed you the joint once again. "My saliva kinds of help healing wounds. It's pretty boring."
"Boring" Logan repeats. The word itself sounds so damn fun in your lips it's contradicting. "That doesn’t sound really boring."
There's a moment of silence after that. Where you smoke in silence taking in the taste of the cherry, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that your lips also touched the side of the cigar he was smoking before, the plain lies you've been repeating over and over the last ten minutes.
It's almost infuriating. Makes his blood boil without question, he surely endures your treatment of silence, but being lied to? That's a whole different level.
“How old are you, kid?”
Your brows furrow in response, a clueless face. You are pulling out this show once again Logan don’t buy for a damn second. Something about the scrunch in your nose, the way you dismissed your own powers as if they weren’t enough. He knows it’s all a lie. He knows it even when he doesn’t really know you at all, when it’s the first time you’re truly speaking to him after your arrival to the mansion almost a year ago.
“How old you really are?”
You laugh at the question once again, and he just knows it, knows it when he sees you barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon, the act you always keep up, a web of tangled lies you have to be into— “Told you i'm twenty-seven already, didn't you hear?”
“Is it now?” he asks, amused by the sass, exhaling the smoke of the low-quality tobacco he doesn't understand why you're so invested in when passed it to him—. “Cause you don’t seem very convinced, it really sounds like bullshit to me.”
You're almost offended. By the look you give it's like the worst mistake he could ever make, yet you remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of an honest answer yet. Testing his patience like he did have one to begin with.
"Is that why I can’t hear your heartbeats, darlin'? Cause you age so slowly?”
The nickname scratches a part of your brain, and you hate him for it. The word rolls out of his tongue with an accent, smoking your cherry tobacco cause you happen to be nice.
“You can’t?” you’re good at faking it suddenly, at least, that's what he thinks when your brows furrow in alleged curiosity, stiffening your back, uncomfortable. “How weird.”
“Damn right it is” that's when you realize he knows you are lying. Even when you don’t talk much, even when you act all stiff and bothered when he’s close, he knows that you are fully invested in lying. In whatever twisted little lie you've planned, like it was your real life and not something you made up. “Are you going to tell me truth, then or do I have to find out? Does the professor know that you're lying?”
The smoke lingers in the air.
“How old are you?” he asks once again, demanding an honest answer this time — "Thirty? Thirty-five?"
You find his questions annoying, mostly cause he won't stop until he gets an answer, one that pleases him enough to leave you alone, the other part cause you happen to like the playful banter you two keep going, dangerously much. You don't hate attention it's clear, what you do hate it's the way he seemed to see pass the lie, to demand more even when he has no right to.
He enjoys being the one who's right though, Logan cannot help it. He's pleased to catch that look on your face who says everything but nothing at once, to have you where he wanted, almost at the edge of admitting a truth.
Is it payback because you've been stealing all of the little mutants from his class? He's jealous cause kids like being around you? It does not make much sense, but he is fully invested. Questioning all.
Even when you're outside, it seems like the air grows thicker. And Logan finds himself seeking for your breathing, cause he don't know nothing, nothing about you more than the fact you don't seem to have a heartbeat, or pulse and now, breathing.
“If you really are that eager to know, i'm a hundred and twenty-seven” the words float in the air for a while, and he's sure you're just messing with him, cause there's no way a pretty little face like yours had endured a century. “I've been alive for quite a while.”
He doesn't fully believe it first. Of course he doesn't. Logan's sure you're messing with him also, distracting him about your real age.
“And I supposed this do come from you slow aging powers” He tries to give you a point there, but it's difficult to be serious when you're just playing with him—. "How so?"
To be honest, you do have a little temper yourself, you've learned to stand up for yourself most of the time, so when you happen to notice he's teasing you, that he doesn't really believe you, you adopt this attitude of defense he notices as you shift over the wood you're seated in.
"No, it doesn't" you steal the joint from his hands to have a smoke yourself. "You really aren't as smart as I thought you were, huh?"
Do you happen to have a dead wish? His muscles tense beneath his shirt, and in contrast of his problem, you can hear it all. All the sounds his body makes when he's all bothered just by the beat of his heart, that annoying sound his bones make each time he moves.
"What are you?"
"That's it," the praising goes directly into his chest, the tone you use to tell him he's going in the right direction it feels just so right he forgets why he got mad in the first place—. "That's what you should be asking right there."
It's almost a shame having to admit he would also switch classes. That he would also go through all the paperwork himself without a second thought and that right there, is pathetic, but you're smiling at him as if you're encouraging the man to try harder, to find the answer himself, and fuck — He's old, too old, he's tired, he's in a bad mood as fucking usual, and he happens to dig a drink in the quiet of his own room, but he's pulled by something as equal as devastating as the gravity force, shoot towards you in pure need to have some answers even if he has to make you spit them.
"I find it strange, cause when you don't have a heartbeat, you aren't usually alive" Deep down he's fascinated, hazel eyes glues on your face trying to understand. He feels like he has it in the tip of his tongue waiting to leave his mouth as a catastrophic answer, but he doesn't find the right words.
"That's cause i'm not," you state it like it's something obvious. And just as he knows you're lying, this time, he knows you're telling the truth, blowing the smoke in his direction just to bother him — "Why do you think i'm teaching history after all huh?"
He hasn't seen it all, it seems.
Yeah.
He's losing it after that night.
It’s known that Logan has sleeping problems, but that night specifically he thinks about something else rather than what usually torments him, a truth he also has to keep a secret now that he's learned more about it.
See, Logan doesn't expect you to be really dead. Much less to hear what you are and have been hiding this whole time from the rest of the people in the mansion — He also learns that you feed on blood, that vampires are a common thing in the world and that he shouldn't, at least, be that surprised when he's a mutant in a world full of humans himself.
You are a folklore myth on small villages, stories in Rumania and horror character in films, so you don't blame him when as you spoke, he finally understands why you're so damn attractive, so damn seductive as you explained more about your way of living, some memories you've been keeping to yourself since being a vampire was so damn solitary, memories he listens to cause he knows what it's like, to be misunderstood, to be eternal, to be alone as well.
It makes the two of you grow closer by the next weeks. You now talked during broad daylight about random shit at first, about the war sometimes, about your condition as he refers to when people is around, eaves-dropping on what you two are talking so invested in. Friends.
Simple as that.
And it's safe to admit also that in the course of the next days, Logan Howlett is a fucking mess, and he knows it, but he won't do anything about it.
He won't flirt cause he knows you're a hell of a woman, in every good sense of the word, that he's way too damaged for a vampire even, for all kinds of people out there, and as much as he'd like to say anything, he values your attention, how you switched the attitude of acting like he didn't exist to be a friend, one that you came to share secrets with a cherry aroma glued in their skin.
It gets him insane, to the point he's no longer spending much time with Jean and people start to pick up on it as if he didn't have enough headaches already. He doesn't care. Shit you are not bothered by what people say, and to be honest, he cannot seem to care either.
At first, he's reluctant of keep on talking to you as normal as it is. He's not really invested in religious themes, but he sure admits you're a sin by all meanings, a religious experience of some kind if anyone asked him — He agrees with what he has heard also in the hallways. Innocent conversations of teens and their platonic crush on their teachers. You are pretty hot.
He's so interested in knowing more about you, about the nights you spend in Rumania, when you leave to Canada, the different lives you've lived across the years. He finds himself looking forward to share his stories too, weird enough, cause he's over two centuries himself and he just craves to talk about it with someone who also gets him in a deeper level, that weariness that fills your body when you age so long.
You got the best of immortality, and instead of feeling envious, Logan finds himself attracted to you so much like he's never been in his whole existence. Not at the point it happened with you at least.
By the end of the first month he knows your little treats. You use a lot of sunscreen, and avoid activities outside as much as you possibly can with those classic, tiny black sunglasses that hided you from the rays of the sun, always in the shadow so unapproachable; how you'd usually dismiss food offerings from anyone who's kind enough to even offer you something, and when you haven't fed well during the course of the week, you'd become the most maddening woman he'd ever met.
Maddening.
"What wrong with you, Leech?" Leech. You've been in such a bad mood lately that when he's seating next to you in another random smoking session outside, your fingers twitch, clearly pissed at the nickname after saying multiple times you don't like it.
"I'm not in the mood for plays now."
He can tell from before. When you talked to him that very morning and stared at the collar of his flannel for what it seemed a good, nice minute, he realizes the same moment that you were staring at that pulse point in his neck, where the flesh blood was pumping in his blood flow: You're hungry, as any living creature would be and at your own manner, in constant control as you fight the sense of hunger.
So instead, the mutant ask, like he always does when he’s curious about something that involves you:
"When did you last feed?"
"A couple of weeks ago."
That would explain it. You don't talk much about your meal plan, he knows the professor is in charge of all of that. You've told him about blood bags and hospitals, but he's not really aware of how constant you need to eat, how the blood supplies most of your energy, makes you stronger, gives you vitality, so Logan at first, don't really know what its like to not drink any blood in the course of two weeks.
"What happened with the blood bags from the Hospital?"
The mention of blood out loud seems to triggers you. A groan escaping your lips as you can swear you feel the taste in your mouth — "Don't know. Haven't seen a single one this week, Charles said something about next week, problems in the bank I guess."
You're clearly worked up. It's a new look he hasn't registered before, your hair is tangled in a less-composed look, and there's a slight shake in your hands as if you're going through withdrawal, deprived for what you needed the most.
"And animals?" he questions, trying to find a solution. “Can’t you eat a cat or something?”
"Like shit i'm going to feed from a fucking animal," you're almost immediately grossed out, scrunching your nose at the idea. "I can barely handle being so close to a damn human but animals? I'd rather fucking die this time for real, no waking up."
"That bad huh?" the mutant asks, taking a sip from the beer he sneaked outside, chucking lightly afterwards. "So you're a leech with elegant taste, huh? Of course you are."
"Clean blood is rare," you explain, rolling your eyes. It's inevitable. He knows you hate the nickname so much that he insists to keep on calling you that way just to get a reaction—. "Humans nowadays taste like dirt. They consume drugs among other substances, pills, food supplements, even damn vitamins, don’t get me started about blood diseases cause it gets me in a bad temper. Every single thing affects on your taste, even what you eat. It's all registered there. Clean, good blood is rare to find. Call me elegant, call me picky. It's a damn fact."
"And what about mutant blood?" he questions. And it seems like a mere phrase at first, one with no subtle tones, he’s usually curious about your nature so you don’t pay much attention as he spoke—. “You’re picky about mutants too?”
“No, i’ve never had a mutant before.” The truth is, you hate feeding from people, the act being something so intimate, so damn personal, you refrain yourself. Killing humans, picking a next victim to fed on, is considered now a treat you don't appreciate from your kind, making you steal from hospitals and any kind of blood bank before Charles offered you help. You haven't fed from a mutant, cause you avoided everyone equally, but you don't want to be rude about it. “You all smell different, but i’d be lying. Maybe yes, i’d be picky about it too, feeding is something intimate.”
It's an undeniable admission, and now that he's trying to be in your position, he would also be picky about someone's blood. Logan remains stoic cause he’s suddenly filled by the thought of something else, a glimpse of his own weird creativity he forces himself to push aside, to really suppress now that it's not the time or the moment.
“How do I smell?” It's too late to stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he asks her. And at first, is out of pure curiosity. He has never encountered a vampire in his life until you, let alone had someone talking about the subtle tastes of the blood being undead, so he doesn't want to let the opportunity slip — Of course he wants to know if an over two hundred mutant like himself would be as remotely good as a fresh, clean bag from the hospital.
"You stink like wet dog," he surely deserves it after all the times he’s been calling you a leech — "Like those cigars you tend to smoke, alcohol, and musk. It's similar as wood. That smell you got when you're in a forest and it's not raining but straight pouring."
"Is this a way of telling me i'd taste bad, peach?"
You make a mental note to let him know after you like peach way more than leech.
"If i'd found a human smelling like that, you won't be hearing from me anytime soon" you're just messing with him. A playful banter you enjoy more than ever, the distraction you needed to think in something else rather than the blood bags you craved so deeply — "Hell, i've would just walked the other way."
"So i'm taking you won't be feeding from me anytime soon."
It all takes a dark turn there. You're very aware of the tension the last month now that you talk to him in daily basis, but it’s just mere tension, nothing that ever goes beyond the limit. Logan has never said something to flirt with you despite the million chances he got, and he always remained like a friend, one that you enjoy spending time with now. Cannot be blamed when you're taken aback.
“Cat got your tongue, kiddo?” Man. You're about to whine about the name before you remember he is indeed, older than you are. Vampire or mutant.
"You want me to feed from you?"
He seems so willing when you ask. Even when you teased about his smell calling him a wet dog. He just seems so eager to let you just do it, try a mutant for the first time.
"Yeah," he dismisses it like it's not something so deep — "I doubt Charles is going to let you take a bite since you could clearly kill him, and I'm not sure the others would be pleased with the idea of you sinking your teeth in them, so yes. Me, leech."
Logan Howlett doesn't really smell bad. And you don't know why cause he has all the ingredients to fucking stink, yet, you'd call him interesting. That's what you thought when you find his pulse point again, the vein in his neck you looked earlier in the morning, thinking just as the same you were thinking now.
Of course you would feed from him. Is it a good thing to do? No, in any other circumstances you'd decline. He's your friend.
Now? You’re having a hard time.
"So I'm guessing that you're pleased with the idea, then," Real talk?, you just want to hear him say it. He doesn't talk much usually, but now that he's very vocal about what's on his mind, you have to take advantage of it—. "I'm not sure either. But I do think Storm may be interested too."
He seems content with the response, taking a long sip from his beer before adding — "Please, go and ask her so you're less annoying."
You're almost completely sure he doesn't find you annoying. You also don't care about Storm. And maybe he knows you're not going anywhere, that you're not moving.
"You really want me to bite you?"
"I dunno now, princess" he looks at you pleased now cause he got you where he wanted to, cause he managed to awake all the interest now that you're looking at him "Are you going to pull a Dracula on me?"
"No, i'm not going to suck you dry if that's what you're asking."
Logan chuckles. He's a damn masochist. It's been like that as long as he can remember. It may have to be with his healing powers cause he likes it more than usual, but the idea gets to his head soon enough, all falling so damn fast: Your breathing would be against his neck and he'd take the bite like a damn champ.
"Yeah I can handle you," he says, aroused. "You're not gonna hurt me if you take some blood. I'll be fine and you won't be a pain in the ass."
He acts so gruff about it but you hear the sound of his heartbeat already high enough to wake the entire mansion, his labored breathing since he suggested the idea himself. He digs it, strange enough. Thrives on the idea.
He's a grown man already, and he can take a little leech like yourself.
It's clear you're hungry, cause it doesn't take much for you to accept, nodding like you're defeated, like you just lost the war entirely, cause there's no many options here to take and even if it were, you are now interested in have him more than any other blood bag. In fact. To hell with the hospital.
"Okay."
It's a simple answer, and it sure works with him as you get close to him, the bench you always used to sit now seeming so small as you look around confirming you guys really are alone—. "You won't tell anyone?"
It's something stupid to ask, cause after all that time he has never said anything, keeping your secrets as if they were his own, saving you from weird questions people get sometimes as they didn't know much about you. He's clearly not going to say nothing at all.
"Are you going to stop whining for a second and just eat darlin'? Cause I might change my mind here."
He's feeling overload soon after.
You don’t need a formal invitation to lean closer to his neck.
There's no way to describe it also cause he has never seen something like that, never felt a similar sensation more than when he's fucking, the cold touch of your fingers in his chest, taunting the vein in his neck without a previous warning before leaning in even closer than before—. "Stay still" you demand, face close against his bare skin, only one goal in mind. "Don't move for a minute. Just-"
You cannot finish the sentence, and Logan can experience the sporadic pain of the bite first hand when your teeth finally sink in his neck, piercing the flesh so easily as you let the blood fill your mouth. He grunts at the sharp pain, his face contracting momentarily before it's replaced by a nice wave of pleasure, one that hits him right in the guts as he grabs you by the nape of your neck, pushing you against him, almost demanding you to be closer, to keep on taking what you want, what you've been craving for two weeks.
When did he turned into this perverted sick? Getting off by something so primal as the fact you're feasting on him.
The feeling of your lips and the clear suck you gave when feeding are sending him into a spiral, and to be honest, he didn't expect to be so devastated by you, by the way your fingers stay against his chest to prevent him from moving, pinning the mutant between the wood bench and yourself so he won’t move, won’t do anything unless you want him to,pressing on the wound to draw more blood out.
"You heal so damn fast," you complain, looking at the traces of your bite with an unpleased face as they disappeared on his skin as fast as you created them.
"Then bite me again. I don't care."
You chuckle before leaning once again, and you can feel how the air grows hotter than how it was usually, the shift on his breathing as you bite him again, pressing on the wounds once again just to suck.
And you’re hungry, it’s the whole deal. His taste differs from what you believe at first, a huge change from what humans taste like, from what you’re used to deal with in hospitals. There’s a subtle taste of alcohol yes, but it mixes good with the sweet taste of honey, the weird taste you cannot put into words. It must be a mutant thing for sure cause it’s thicker than usual, a mix of flavors that explode in your tongue.
The headache you suffered from the whole week seems to dissapear as you drink in, feeding the monster you responded to in your stomach, demanding you to make him bleed more, to satisfy yourself until you can’t have any more.
Logan, on the other hand, is really fighting against his very own war.
You’re already close enough, but he just wants you damn closer, as much as he possibly can. It’s clear that well, it hurts slightly, but he has endured much worse, means nothing when it’s the pleasure that comes with it who strikes on his body, the light sucking, the idea you’re full of his blood, that you are not on trouble as you were before thanks to him. All because of him.
He's not used to acts on his impulses, but he does it anyway.
"C'mere" he says in a strangled voice, Logan's having no trouble moving you around, grabbing you by the hips to make you straddle him, keeping you glued to his neck as he doesn't want to disturb you—. "You really are a pretty leech, huh?”
You hum against his skin, pleased at the contact, and when he realizes you’re not complaining about his actions, he let his fingers grip your tights, keeping you against him.
You can hear him making this sound, quite like a moan but not exactly when you’re licking the holes you left in his skin, he does heal fast and don’t need any of your help when you’re done, but you coat his skin with your saliva anyway just to speed up the process, cause you want to do it, looking down to him after to check if he’s pale or nearly dead. You never really know.
And Logan himself is just fine cause his fingers gather the blood under your lip when he takes the sight of you sitting in his lap as the pearly white rays of moonlight makes your skin shine, and he pushes them inside your mouth so you don't waste any drop of what it can be considered food.
"So what's the final verdict?" he asks as his hands are now grabbing your tights, there's something so intimate about the moment, so personal, hot as he presses his fingers against the flesh of your muscles, he understand what you said before—. "Do I taste like utter shit?"
"Well, i’d need another taste to have my final decision" he laughs, and he don't really laugh often so the unexpected sound sends a shiver down your spine now that you’ve heard the sound quite a while now—. "Not much, just a little."
“Have you fill then, peach” He encourages you. “I want you full so you don’t whine the rest of the week.”
You don’t have any heartbeat, but if you did, it would be ragging in your ears at his words. At the warmth he’s spreading like a disease on her body that, despite being dead and cold, you can feel more than ever.
“I like peach,” you admit, this time pressing a soft kiss before directly hurt him—. “Leech is annoying.”
He’s going to say something, tease you about it maybe but he’s interrupted by the nice feeling of what he considers are your fangs tearing his skin apart, familiarity hitting him all sudden as he moans, a rough sound that comes from the deep of his throat, hands coming down to squeeze your ass, making you gasp against his neck when you experience the aching need physically forming in his pants.
“Still,” you say, concentrated on not allowing the wounds to close. But at the lack of complaints on what he's doing, Logan’s hands kept wandering around, making you move against his now clearly stiffed cock—. “Fuck’s sake I said still.”
“Stop being a damn brat. You can eat while I move you,” he grunts annoyed, shoving you against him, the friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your shorts is enough to keep you quiet: Feeding from a stranger and feeding from a person you’re attracted to are two different things, especially in the position you find yourself in. “You don’t have to do anything. Quit whining about it.”
In response, your fingers press against the wound, not caring if it hurts or if it bothers him, but just enough to get him to bleed more and prevent the cut from closing, lapping at the blood that gathered over his collarbone, staining his white tank before you could even avoid it.
Your fingers grab the fabric just to pull it slightly down so it won't bother you, and the deep sound his chest make when he mocks about your desperation is stuck on your brain for the next couple of minutes, indulging in his taste, shutting up the rest of the world.
A moan comes out of your lips, muffling it against his skin. You're too zoomed out to hear it, but he's on a hell of a ride too, moaning as he demands more. It's been a while since the last time you did something like that, combine the pleasure of something as primal as eating with a mundane activity like sex, so you kind of forgot how good it felt, blaming yourself from depriving from something so needed.
"Do you always get this turned on when someone bites you?"
"No" Logan answers as you finish. He's rock hard beneath you, and he lets you know it when he's controlling the movement of your hips, working you against him at a slow pace—. "See, the woman i'm trying to seduce don't usually bite me, nor make me their main dinner plate."
You whine at the friction.
He looks down to the cause of all his damn problems just to notice his pants being damped with nothing but a physical form of need, soothing the uncomfortable fabric of his blue jeans — "So wet for me already, you’re making a damn mess, do you always get this turned on when feeding?"
Cheeky bastard.
He's using your own words against you, and you cannot be less bothered as you laugh softly, licking your lips only cause you know there's dried blood in them, drowned in his smell, the honey taste that lingered in your mouth.
“No, I don’t.”
At the sight, Logan's hand grabs your jaw in a rough movement, making you look at him before making you kiss him, deepening the contact as fast as you give him the chance. His tongue is soon invading your bucal cavity as he takes control of it, slow, intense and needy, as if he was holding on so much time before giving in to his own desires.
It is something like that.
You don't need to breathe in daily basis, but there's a burning sensation in your chest of wanting, of infinite lust you've been also experiencing by yourself.
The old mutant can taste his own blood in your mouth, a metallic taste as he keeps on kissing you until your lips are pink and puffed. He has thought so much about it that now that he has the opportunity, he devours as if he's a starved man having his first meal in what seems are ages.
"You didn't tell me if I tasted bad."
You think about it for a second.
"I'm afraid you're a rare breed cause it doesn't make any sense" You don't need any help now moving, cause you're rolling your hips on top of him at your own pace, allowing him to use his hands for something else—. “You have all the ingredients to taste like shit, but it's nothing but the contrary, even better than the fucking blood bags.”
“Sounds like your going to make me your meal plan, darlin. I’m here offering you a hand and you just take everything,” — “Such a greedy little vampire.”
He doesn't seem to care though, same as before he's nothing but willing to let you take everything as much as he tries to bark about it. He's more worried about his hands now that they're sliding down your oversized shirt, tracing patterns over your stomach, his touch so hot against your usually cold temperature.
"Logan," you whine,— "Someone can see us out here."
"Now you care about that?" his hazel eyes are a shade darker when he speaks. "After you're nice and full of my blood?"
His hands are big enough to take your whole cunt, allowing his digits to roam over the fabric of your underwear, almost thanking you for using those loosened pajama shorts he has seen before that very night as he just takes the fabric and pull it to the side.
"Nobody is going to see us. It's late and everyone's sleeping, leech" he teases you, and you cannot bring yourself to care about the nickname at the feeling of his hand taunting you from over the fabric—. "If you can bite me here outside, you might as well take my cock here too."
You cannot battle against that. You're deep in whatever spell he puts you into, giving in to the attraction and the tension that now needs to be taken care of. Logan's fingers touch you in nothing but experience, cause he knows how to please after so much time alive, how much pressure he needs to apply to leave you plain dumb, pliable for him.
"D'you think I need to stretch you out before fucking you?" he asks against your neck after leaving a reasonable-sized hickey in the zone, he likes the idea of people finding out about what you've been doing with him the next morning. "Or you're a big girl and can take me all by yourself?"
He'd like to take your time with you. Thoroughly enjoy you as much as he wants to, let everyone know you're his now, that you're shuddering thanks to him only, but he's too needy for that, too deprived of you to take his time.
"I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours and talk to me," he demands, coming up to look at your face while torturing you, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit from over the underwear—. "I'm not properly touching you yet and you're losing it already, peach. C'mon, you can talk to me still."
"I can take you," you say in a strangled voice. "Please Logan, please."
It's the plea of your tone that gets him, the soft begging of an ache he can only soothe, your face while you ask for more, not aware of anything else but him.
"Please what?"
"Please just fuck me already," you ask in frustration—. "I just need you to fill me up for a damn while."
You are starting to love the sound of his laugh. The deep sound he makes when he’s really enjoying something, his voice in damn general.
"Be a good little vampire" He says in a gentle tone. Logan’s trying to be kind even when his touch is so rough. "Unbuckle my pants and take my cock out. My hands are busy now, and you can do it yourself."
He is busy indeed. Toying with your underwear being the only thing that’s keeping him from the direct contact, pushing the fabric against your hole as it works as a barrier, preventing his digits to fuck you as he’d like to. He’s busy keeping you in place, preventing you from downright melt as your hands came up to unbuckle his belt first, the sound of the metal as it moves filling the air for a couple of seconds before you put all your attention in the button of his jeans, the zipper coming down with the force you’re using.
“Yeah baby,” he praises—. “You’re doing so good, keep going.”
When you pull the fabric of his briefs down, he’s already leaking for you, pink head, slightly curved to the side, moaning, erratically how much he needs your hands on him, how you're wet and ready for his cock. You close your fist around him, stroking slowly as your hips lift up enough to position yourself on top of him.
He’s big. Damn fucking right he is, you’d expected it from before cause sometimes you swear you can see his full length in his jeans, but taking him in your hand is a struggle but itself.
“Are you going to take me yourself or do you need my help? I know you can.”
Despite his words, he does help. Grabbing the black fabric of your underwear to finally make it to the side, the tip of his dick pushing against your clit before he's the one to place it in your leaky hole, forcing himself slowly, giving you time to take him in, inch by inch.
“Good girl," he says, head rolling backwards for a brief moment as he experiences the warm sensation of your walls surrounding him, clenching against his cock as he keeps one hand on your hip, helping you as you lower yourself over him. "Let me look at you.”
His fingers grab your jaw, squeezing you as he makes you look back at him, pushing you once again as you holded a loud moan. He's stretching you at his need.
"One more time," he begs. "One more time and you got it, peach. You're almost there."
Jesus fuck. You can feel yourself getting dizzy. You've drank a lot of blood and you're now overwhelmed by this intense pleasure that formed in your lower stomach, gathering there and waiting for the perfect moment to explode—. "Fuck I-"
Logan's pampering you with kisses as a mere distraction, his lips travelling through your neck to your collarbone before you're finally seated on top of him, a muffled moan you need to shut filling the calm of the night.
"Fuck you're tight," he exhales, and he's lost in the sensation, the way your velvety walls welcome him inside. He stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust, to make you the one who starts moving on top of him.
You can see his veins popping up. All over his chest and coming down to his shoulders and his arms, and god gracious — He smells so fucking good you’re tempted to ask if you can have a bite again.
The moment feels longer than usual, the seconds pass slowly as you stay there. Logan’s hands are just touching your skin from under your oversized t-shirt, taking in the low moans you gave him, the almost perceptible whispers as you get used to him, to his size.
He likes the intimacy of it, the bliss. Man you look so pretty in his lap when the light of the moon is stripping you all to his eyes, even if you’re fully dressed an he’s seated in a damn bench, he cannot enjoy it more, pulling you in for a needy kiss, one that is rougher than the first one and leads you to move inevitably.
His cock pushes past that nice spot inside, and the friction is enough to make you move again, rocking your hips at a slow pace for a few seconds. The sound of your moans is silenced by his demanding kisses, and now that he knows you can handle him, his grip on your hips turn more firm now, squeezing the skin there so he can control your speed, the rythm of your movements now faster than before.
“Shh, don’t whine” what he lacks of vocal usually, he pours it all in just fucking, talking you through it when he feels you’re being too loud—. “Do you want to wake the others? We can’t have them seeing you like this, all fed up and cock-drunk.”
“Let me bite you again,” you ask soon enough. And it takes a lot to do it, cause you’re doing it out of pure greed, cause you can’t have enough.
“Take whatever you want, leech, just don’t make me faint” he jokes, his panted breathing betraying him as he moans, incredibly interested in the idea—. “Want to be conscious when you cum all over my dick.”
Logan’s sure your eyes glisten in a red color as you lean over his neck. And this time is less affectionate, much less gentle as you finally bite him again, teeth piercing the flesh so easily his hips jolts against you in response of the sharp pain your fangs create, the warm sensation of his blood in contrast of your cold touch, tongue-licking all you get from him.
And fuck it feels good.
He shrudders beneath you, shaking his head just slightly at reflex of pain before continue working his way with you, placing his hand between your tights as he lets his fingers rub on your sensitive clit, just enough to make you bite on his neck harder, the lewd sounds of your cunt taking him between holded moans as you suck on his neck.
“That’s it taking me so good,” He praises — “You like that, princess? Like how you’re full of me?”
You hum against his skin. The blood coates your chin as it goes down through his chest, staining his white tank for a couple of seconds before the holes your teeth made finally closes on their own.
It’s pure ecstasy. He can feel it when you clenching around his cock, cheeks red from his blood going now through your system, his vitality, his energy.
You can feel him fucking everywhere. So when you kiss him it’s all teeth, bite and his blood.
The pleasure’s taking control of you now, and Logan’s dizzy from the blood loss, his body covered now in sweat as his words slur together, not threading any coherent thought.
“That’s it,” he says, making you bounce of his cock. “Gonna’ have you in my room then, all spread out f’me.”
His hand wrap around your neck tightly, keeping the direct contact as he chokes you. Shit. You don’t need to say a word. Logan already got you.
“James-” he’s too deep to question why you’re using that name with him. How you facade is crushing down now as you let go.
When your body trembles on top of him he’s already cumming too, the squeeze on his cock sufficent to fuck him up personally, his bruising grip on your hips shoving you as deep as he possibly can as his release hits him like a brick falling from the damn sky.
He lets you work for it, ride each second of your high, milk him dry as a white circle of his own cum mixed with your juices coated the base of his cock, his underwear now slick with your orgasm.
He’s struggling to breathe, to properly say something as you’re finally coming down from your peak, looking at him through half lidded eyes.
“Did you called me James?” he questions, and you’re a damn bad liar, cause he knows imediately you’re hidding something cause of the look on your face—. “Do we know each other? From before.”
You don’t know how to respond at first, at least, cause you cannot lie in a position like that now.
“Well uh. It’s quite a long story here.”
Before you can continue he gets up, making you wrap your legs around his hips before stsrting to walk to the mansion.
“Logan-” you say in a strangled moan yourself, still sensitive as he’s balls-deep inside you.
“It will be less than two minutes, leech” he responds gruffily,— “Need to get you into my room so I can enjoy you the rest of the night, and you can tell me all of it.”
He don’t care if he’s bloody or a damn mess as he squeezes your ass climbing up the stairs, much less if anyone see the two of you in that state.
“I want to hear all the details, Cause I have a weird feeling that this has happened before.”
You cannot find a reasonable excuse to say no as the man’s already reaching the second floor.
Logan’s fucked after that night. When he learned about all that you were before, weirdly connected to you through the decades.
It must be the bite isn’t? Shit. He’s more in sync than ever now that you’ve been feeding from him a lot the last few weeks.
Ah. You fucking leech.
my masterlist
#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlet smut#logan x reader#logan xmen#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett#jimmy howlett#xmen smut#cryptfile // x-men#minors dni#minors do not interact#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett x vampire!reader#deadpool 3#xmen days of future past#deadpool and wolverine
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Cute Meet?
Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))
Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.
Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-”
What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not. And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.
Simon was enchanted at first glance.
Ghost decides he could be, too.
A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.
Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.
“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.
“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.
He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?
After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.
“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.
Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.
But they both decide you’re theirs.
#simon ghost x reader#cod x reader#141 x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you
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Wanna know what I want to see more of in the Timkon Fandom? Good boyfriend Tim. I'm not saying fics that are 'Kon going through shit, and Tim is just there to be the 'good boyfriend that you could replace with literally any fucking character'
Im talking about Tim recognizing his anti social, pushing away the people he loves tendencies and realizing that he cannot act that way to Kon. I want Tim to realize the way the Kon love, and that he needs to put effort into making Kon feel loved. Like a lot of people that ship these think that they could just get together and tgat would be it, but like they would both have to effort into maintaining the relationship, and making the other feel loved and wanted.
Like I want Tim to start showing Kon more casual affection. Like throwing in the occasional pet name, holding hands more often, being more tactile, etc. Because kon thrives off of being reminded that he is loved. But like Kon would be thrown for a fucking loop every time Tim does something like that, because he knows that Tim is doing it for him, and that makes it 10 times more important. But like also vice versa with Kon acknowledging that sometimes Tim will throw his entire being in a case or project, and that's just how he is. Like I want Kon to understand that Tim is obsessive, like that's just a part of him and sometimes he just needs a bit of space to finish something before he can be a regular human again
It just, it annoys me that a lot of people that ship them don't think that their contrasting personalities and behaviors would ever cause any issues in their relationship. Like I wanna see more domestic timkon, where they have to work for their shared happiness
#Like I want them to have the domestic bliss#But it's not going to happen overnight#I want more fics where they are happy together#I say that but most of my bookmarked fics are the ones where they suffer#timkon#domestic timkon#tim drake#kon el#red robin#superboy#dc comics#robin#batfamily#conner kent#dc robin#i swear i'm normal about them
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notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt
reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.
"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."
"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"
"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."
you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.
till you notice and shut that shet down.
"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."
"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."
"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."
you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.
"you wanna what you fucking freak?"
"excuse me-?"
"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."
"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."
and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?
"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."
"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"
"NO!" *141*
it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.
but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.
it turns out that you definitely have some perks.
you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.
in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.
"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."
*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*
"Nothing."
*recruit tries again.*
"Nothing."
it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.
what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.
that gets shut down real quick.
you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.
but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.
before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.
"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."
"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*
"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"
perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.
it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.
ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.
a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.
#boowrites#notsobaddasssoldier!reader#notsobaddass!reader x ghost#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#simon riley#john soap mactavish#captain john price#john price#johnny soap mactavish#notsobaddass!reader x 141#notsobaddass!reader#notsobaddasssoldier!reader x 141#captian price#captain john price x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john soap mctavish x reader
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Prologue | AO3
Previous Next
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“So… why did you volunteer yourself?” Stephanie asked once the other three had left, watching Jason move to sit on the floor and lean against the wall next to Jazz while Leslie gave her a check up as well.
“...In case any of the kids were up for ungluing themselves from each other long enough to take a shower,” Jason responded as though it were obvious. He actually still had questions he wanted to ask, but the offer for a shower was still an option.
“Wait, you have a shower here?” Tucker’s interest was immediately piqued, head snapping over to look at Jason.
“Dibs,” Sam spoke quickly, raising her hand halfway once more.
The claim for the first shower caused Tucker to gasp, head snapping over to stare at his friend in utter betrayal. “SAM! How could you!” he gaped.
Sam just met his gaze with a neutral stare, not lowering her hand. “Dibs,” she repeated, earning a snicker from Stephanie. None of them could blame the kids for wanting a proper shower, it wasn’t like there had been running water in the abandoned apartment complex they’d been staying in. The entire plate of burritos Stephanie had brought in was also already gone, so they also knew the kids were ready for actual meals again.
“Okay, let me just get the blinds pulled over the windows outside this room, and then I’ll come back to get you for a shower,” Stephanie agreed, amused, but also looked over to Jazz to double check. “If that’s alright with you. I don’t think you’d all fit in there, and I’d rather not move Danny.”
The idea of them being out of sight made Jazz anxious, but she could also understand their want for a good shower. She wanted one too. Baby wipes and rain water could only do so much for them trying to keep everything clean. Danny may have been in some sort of stasis, but they’d still tried to keep the environment around him clean considering he had open wounds. Everyone that was there was being a lot nicer than she first thought they would be though, the unmet expectations were making it hard for her to react quickly. It wasn’t that they made her think they were trying to get them to let their guard down. Jason and Damian had been way too blunt for her to believe that they were trying to be manipulative. Or if they were, they really sucked at it. It was just too unexpected right then. “...Okay,” Jazz agreed, wincing slightly as Leslie dabbed an alcohol swab on a small cut on her arm.
“Yessss,” Sam cheered, earning a small laugh from Danielle as Stephanie left the room to get the windows covered. This was one safehouse that they could relocate if needed, but would rather not have to do so if they could help it. So anything they could do to keep their guests from knowing where it was located was necessary.
And since they had somewhat brought up the topic of reestablishing rules and boundaries, Jazz looked over to Danielle to make sure she understood what was expected before an incident came up. “Dani, can you stay in your human form unless someone needs protection? And stay visible, don’t phase through anything, and no overshadowing. Don’t give them a reason to kick us out by snooping, okay?”
Danielle hadn’t been expecting to essentially be told she was grounded to her room, but a room other than her own, and let out an annoyed groan. “Uuuuugh, fiiine,” she dragged out, shifting forms again and sagging in theatrics. “Just don’t let me get bored,” she pushed, reminding them that Dick had loosely promised to bring them things, and then also added for good measure, “And I’m only going to behave as long as you guys actually help Danny. Got it?”
It was a fair enough trade, and Cass gave a simple thumbs up at the demand. It was too soon to tell how much help they would be for Danny, but they were still a much better resource than being homeless and broke. The Phantom kids seemed to be willing to at least try to let them help at least.
“I think we have some cards somewhere around here. Maybe a board game or two. If not we’ll bring some with the food,” Jason commented, not wanting the kids to get too bored either. There were all kinds of messes caused simply because a teenager was looking for entertainment. And maybe playing some games with them would help them loosen up.
“Do you have any comics?” Danielle then asked. The games sounded promising, but comics were always nice too for when she had no one to play with.
“...We’ll see,” Jason half agreed, grinning slightly. At least the youngest knew what she liked.
“I’ll take it,” Danielle hummed, leaning back on both hands and kicking her legs slightly as Stephanie returned to beckon Sam to follow her.
“Don’t steal all the hot water!” Tucker called after them as they left the room, despair saturating his tone.
“That’s why I’m going first. You’re the one that takes forever,” Sam retorted, waving her hand dismissively without turning back. It earned a few more snickers before the group left behind settled into a semi uncertain quiet, both from exhaustion and simply not knowing what to talk about with the particular set of people there. The only one who made comments was Leslie, and it was only simple commands to support her checkups.
Eventually Leslie finished making notes on the tablet she had, and turned to look at Jason and Cass. “Aside from Danny the rest of them don’t look too bad. The showers were definitely a good idea, it’ll help clean all the cuts they have. But otherwise get them a good meal and some rest and they should be fine.”
“Good to hear,” Jason acknowledged, planning on letting Bruce and the rest of the team manage the food planning and check in schedule for Leslie. “Just send everything to Oracle. Do you need an escort?”
“No, I’ll manage,” Leslie dismissed, tapping on the tablet to send all the files to Barbara. “I’ll be back after dinner to check on the boy again. Call me sooner if necessary,” she bid, picking her bag up and leaving the room to head back to address other patients that needed her attention.
A few moments after Leslie was gone, Stephanie and Sam returned with the latter wearing a clean pair of spare clothes that had been stashed there. Stephanie seemed to be quite happy about something too, and when Jason saw the shirt Sam was wearing he understood why immediately. That was an old shirt, being memorabilia from Stephanie and Cass’s shared BatGirl uniform. But it was always fun to see fans. Though he did wonder if that was the case or if there was another reason.
“Cool shirt,” Tucker commented when he saw Sam. “What’s with the bat symbol?”
The question caused the three of Batman’s team to pause, Jason realizing he was about to get one of his questions answered. Did Tucker just not recognize the specific symbol? It wasn’t that obscure, he should at least recognize it as something related to Batman. Right?
“Not sure. It was the only black one, so I grabbed it,” Sam responded, tugging the shirt away from her enough to look down at the emblem again, momentarily forgetting what it looked like exactly.
Jason watched Stephanie and Cass’s expressions fall a little, and almost snorted.
“You don’t… know who that symbol is for?” Stephanie asked, sadness starting to creep into her voice at the revelation that Sam had only picked that shirt because it was black.
“Nope,” Sam confirmed, heading over to the stool she’d left before and sitting back down to dab at her hair with the towel. “Should I?”
It caused Stephanie to pause, and then give a shaky laugh, but Jason didn’t miss how Jazz’s gaze moved to look at the red symbol on his own chest, half hidden by his jacket. “N’no! I guess not. It’s a pretty old shirt anyway. No one has seen BatGirl for a while now anyway.” Stephanie shakily dismissed, tucking her disappointment away for later when she could properly express it.
“BatGirl?” Sam repeated, getting a wry grin. “Is there a BatBoy too?”
Another exchange of looks between Cass and Stephanie. Was that a joke? “No. Just Batman and Batwoman,” she answered, deciding to err on the side of Sam being serious.
“Well, there is, but BatBoy never worked with the other bats,” Jason pointed out, amusement saturating his voice.
“That name was from a baseball bat though, not a bat bat,” Stephanie argued.
Jason shrugged at the distinction, but wasn’t able to comment further before Tucker spoke up again. “Okay. So who’s Batman again?”
The three team members stopped to stare at Tucker, having to take a moment to register if he was putting on an act or not. When it was determined he was either impossibly good at pretending, or actually earnest in his question, Jason barked a laugh while Staphanie’s eye twitched. “You’ve been on Gotham for two months, been to the dark net, and are still asking who Batman is?” Jason asked, incredulous.
“What makes you think I was on the darknet?” Tucker defended quickly.
“Where else do people even hear about Lazarus water?” Jason retorted just as fast.
Tucker’s mouth pursed as his eyes scrunched, realizing he wasn’t going to get his way out of that one. “............ Okay,” he relented. Fair point. Good game. “So are we talking about an actual person, or the folktale boogeyman? Because the internet sources aren’t clear on that.”
Jason wheezed slightly at the comparison, filing that away in his mental box of topics to tease Bruce with.
“He’s the one we’re working with to help Danny,” Cass answered this time, feeling just a little miffed after the mutual disappointment she had suffered with Stephanie. Once again Jazz’s eyes flicked to Jason’s symbol, this time in understanding.
The comment caused another pause as Tucker realized he probably shouldn’t make fun of this guy. “...Alright. Cool cool. That answers a lot,” he rambled, hoping his comments didn’t affect the kind of help they were going to receive. “I think I’ll go take that shower now,” he excused, jerking to his feet and waiting momentarily for Stephanie to escort him out of the room.
“I have to ask now,” Jason started once they were out of sight, using this as a way to get another one of his questions in that he’d stayed around in the first place to try and get answered. “Where are you kids from to think Batman was a fairytale?”
He didn’t think that they would take the question well, considering how secretive they were being about other things. But to his pleasure the other two girls just looked at Jazz, who seemed to have relaxed a little more from the more easy going conversations. “...Amity Park,” she answered, watching to see if Jason, or more specifically Cass since she could see at least part of her face, had any sign of recognition before adding, “It’s in Illinois.”
That was unexpected. “That’s quite a ways away,” Jason commented. He’d never heard of Amity Park, but Illinois was definitely not a ‘took a wrong turn at the gas station’ ways away.
“How did you end up in Gotham?” Cass asked now, concern pinching her brows.
The three girls fell silent, but this time it was easy to tell that it wasn’t out of reluctance to share information. The looks they gave each other were more seeking to see if either of them had an answer rather than if they should say it. And Cass and Jason could also see some painful memories hidden in their expressions.
“Dunno,” Danielle finally admitted with a shrug. “We were fighting, then stuff blew up, and next thing we knew we were here.”
Oh, that didn’t sound good. Jason had been suspecting that the event that had led them to Gotham had been what had put Danny in the state he was, but stuff blowing up and relocating people was never a good thing. That was definitely something that was going to be relayed back to the others, and he really hoped they didn’t have to get people outside of their usual team involved.
“My ID and debit card don’t work here either,” Jazz added, sounding a little bitter and some of the prolonged stress starting to resurface. “Everytime we tried to buy something they told me my card was declined. And when I found a bank that happened to have the same name as the one I’m using, they told me my ID was fake.”
“...So you started stealing to get what you needed,” Jason connected. They were good kids in a bad situation. That was all. Jazz didn’t answer, though it didn’t seem to be because she was reluctant to admit they were stealing. She just seemed concerned about something else. “Don’t worry, we won’t turn you in. We usually deal with people who are much worse,” he assured as a subtle prod to get her to reveal what she was worried about.
Jazz gave a mirthless noise of amusement. “...What are you? Some kind of secret government street sweepers?” she asked. It was phrased as a sarcastic jab, but both Cass and Jason heard the secrets that were being hinted at.
Jason just barked a laugh. “Hardly. We’re independent. Sometimes we work with the police, but most of the time they’re pissed off at us too. Can’t imagine wanting to touch anything government related either. I don’t think they’d like me.”
There was a hesitant release in part of what had the girl’s tense, and Cass couldn’t help resting her hand on Danielle’s shoulder. “You are all safe with us,” she assured shortly. She could see it in the way they behaved during this topic. It wasn’t that they were suspicious of conspiracy theories or something similar. They disliked non-public government organizations because of personal experience. They had been hurt by them before.
The girls didn’t respond verbally, but Cass could see the change in their demeanor. They were a little less wary, and a little more hopeful. But that was enough interrogation for now. She knew her team would have plenty to work with from what they already had, and there was no need to stress the kids out further. So now it was on to a batter topic, and Cass took out her phone. “What foods do you like? We will have them prepared for dinner,” she asked, deliberately making her own demeanor more at ease to facilitate a response.
“Ugh, I could definitely go for some roasted butternut squash,” Sam responded almost immediately, sagging slightly on the stool.
“Oo oo! Can I get fried chicken? How much are we allowed to have? Can I have like five chickens?” Danielle asked, raising her hand high and bouncing on the table slightly.
“High metabolism?” Jason asked, just to double check she wasn’t just exaggerating and would actually eat the food if they brought it.
“Mhmm. I bet I could eat way more than you could,” Danielle nodded with a slight challenge.
“I bet you could,” Jason accepted with a chuckle, not even going to bother taking her up on that challenge.
“And the rest?” Cass prompted, typing a message to Alfred on her phone.
“...I’m okay with most anything,” Jazz answered when they looked her way, her hand straying to Danny’s hand again as she couldn’t help thinking of his favorite sandwich.
“Tucker will eat anything meat,” Sam provided for their remaining friend. She had already stolen the first shower from him, she could be nice and make sure he got something nice to eat.
“Got all that?” Jason asked Cass, glad to have a happier note for the kids to focus on now. After Cass gave a thumbs up, Jason shifted to stand again, raising his hands over his head in a mild stretch. “Good. Then let’s see if I can find those cards,” he announced, heading for the door.
“No poker,” Cass spoke up quickly, narrowing her eyes Jason’s way.
“I’m not going to play poker with a bunch of teenagers,” Jason huffed, mildly offended that was the first thing Cass would think of. There were so many other games to play with face cards anyway. And hopefully it would be enough to keep the kids occupied at least until dinner. And while they were on house arrest duty hopefully the others would figure out where these kids had come from, and how to help them. He could take some time while looking for the cards to send his own report to the others at least. Explosion relocation, anti government organization sentiments, non usable ID and debit card. It was starting to sound like they weren’t actually from the United States at all. But knowing their luck, it wasn’t just a case of country hopping. Hopefully they weren’t from a completely different time period or something. That always made things messy. Hopefully this Amity Park was just a tiny village in Illinois that was out of touch with the world compared to a big city like Gotham, and these kids were just country bumpkins that would be easy to get shipped off back home once they were all better.
There was no cost for hoping for an easy solution, even if Jason knew it wasn’t going to happen.
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This is my first time drawing either of these girls X'D Also I hope I got the right symbol for the shirt. I'm new and there's so many symbols
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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, @fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics, @honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl
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“You gotta starin’ problem or what?”
“Huh?”
You jump at the sound of his voice, his words hitting you like a jolt of electricity, recognition that he’d caught you gazing at him washing over you like a bucket of ice cold water, sending a chill to your spine. The suddenness finds you trying your best to look nonchalant, moving your arm out from under your chin where it supported your head while your eyes tore into him, daydreaming. You brain fails to catch up with your movements in time, leaving you to smack your forehead directly on the desk, earning you a few strange looks from classmates around you.
“Geez, you’re clumsy. You’ve got your work cut out for ya if you wanna make sure ya don’t die down here.”
You glare at him, rubbing the newly forming mark adorning your skin. “Aren’t you supposed to make sure I don’t die down here?”, you ask incredulously.
“Sure”, he shrugs at you, “but it ain’t my fault if ya get mauled cause you were too busy staring into space.”
You try your best to look annoyed, but ultimately end up frowning, holding the affected area with your hand, choosing to look straight down at your desk. Anywhere but at him.
You hear a loud sigh, one you were sure was accompanied by eye rolling though you didn’t see.
“Lemme see ya.”
“Huh?!”, you shift in your desk, blush apparent as you try to hide your shock. “R-Really, I’m fine Mammon!”, you say, trying to shoo him away with one hand.
But of course, that doesn’t stop the second born as he bats your hands away from your face, replacing them with his own as he moves you bangs to the side to see the extent of the damage.
He makes a small ‘tch!’ sound under his breath and suddenly rises to his full height, standing up and sticking a hand out to you.
“C’mon”, he says. One word, super matter-of-factly. By his tone alone, you can’t tell if he’s annoyed, uninterested, or upset by this turn of events - but it was definitely one of the above.
But, by the blush on his face, you can tell that was far from how he truly felt.
“We’re goin’ to the nurse’s office. Can’t have my human gettin’ all banged up.”
He avoids looking at you while saying it. You feel yourself heating up at the phrase, heart beating faster, excitement and fear rising in a beautiful mixture of the two. You reach your own hand out to take his own, eyes shining in anticipation-
“I mean, then who will be The Great Mammon’s servant?”
Ah. There it is.
That’s right.
Mammons not into you. There’s absolutely no way he would be, right? You’re just an obligation to him, maybe an acquaintance at best. You’re not even sure you could call him a friend. If he’d even let you call him a friend.
He’s only caring- pretending to care - because he has to. He has to or Lucifer will have his head, right?
He notices your hesitation and takes your hand in his own, surprisingly gently.
He has to…right?
Days have passed since then, and though you still feel like Mammon’s actions were forced, a little part of you wants to believe. Believe that he meant it, believe that he cares about you, believe that he could maybe feel some type of way towards a human. That type of way.
You’ve been enamored by him from the get go. And though his attention was given more as a favor than as an act of kindness, you still vied for it, craved it.
You find yourself putting a little more effort into your appearance, hoping to catch his eye. Hell, you even consider maybe tripping and falling in the hallway, or bumping into a desk. It did work the first time…
Weeks pass and you don’t have to fake an injury to see if he’ll look your way. No, you didn’t have to do a thing. Belphie’s got you covered, currently holding you over a stairwell by your neck, claws digging into your skin, puncturing it in multiple places, causing more blood to drip down your body onto the tile floor below. Your pain being drowned out by your current and urgent need to breathe.
You hear the sound of multiple screams and gasps, Lucifer’s stern voice threatening his youngest brother, a clear sound of panic being hidden within. Asmo’s worried wails calling out both your and the seventh brother’s name, Beel’s confused and tired voice, happy to see his twin but not understanding why you were being attacked. Surely, the person attacking you, that couldn’t really be his brother, could it? Satan’s fear, actual literal fear, something you never see in the fourth born, showing through his shaking voice. Levi’s hyperventilating, his breath not being able to quite stabilize due to the scene before him.
And Mammon.
You hear every emotion in Mammon’s voice.
You hear his unbridled rage, screaming his youngest brother’s name at the top of his lungs. His worry, calling out your own name the sight of your bleeding, mangled body as Belphegor drops you to the floor and you collapse in a heap. His sadness, running over to you and scooping you up, a shell of your former self he just saw ten minutes ago, perfectly fine. His regret, not being there to protect you, not hearing your screams. How long had you held out fighting against his brother . If only he was fast enough…
And finally, the sound of his spirit breaking, clutching at your shoulders, trying his damnedest to shake you awake as your pulse began to fade. Covering himself in your blood as he held you to his chest and shook.
You use the last of your strength to reach out, caressing his face, causing him to look up with tears in his eyes, startled. He grabs on and clutches to your hand so tight, you’d think it might break too.
“Hey. I finally got you to look at me”, you sputter out, smiling at him before you take your last breath.
Except it wasn’t your last breath.
Thanks to Barbatos, you’re still alive. Timeline manipulation was something you didn’t like to think about too deeply, or you’d start spiraling.
But all the same, you stood there, alive.
As your corpse disappeared from his arms (and this timeline), Mammon rises to his full height, grabbing you fiercely and pulling you tight to his chest, breaking down with you in his arms.
It wasn’t long after that he finally told you how he really felt about you.
Now months and years have passed, and you couldn’t be happier, and neither could he. The second born loves you more than you could ever know.
So, the next time you hear him say to you -
“You gotta starin’ problem or what?”
You don’t shy away. You reach a hand out in the middle of class to caress the back of his neck, uncaring about your classmate’s judging looks.
“Of course I do. How could I not stare at The Great Mammon.”
He blushes, trying to hide the smile of his face as he shoos your hands away.
“That’s right, shouldn’t a servant always be lookin’ at their master?”, he asks with a cheesy smile, bolstered personality returning to him.
“That’s right”, you smile back. “That’s why you’re always staring at me, right?”, you tease right back.
“Shuddup.”
Ah. There it is.
That’s right.
Mammons into you. There’s absolutely no way he wouldn’t be, right? You’re everything to him, maybe his whole world at the very least. You’re not even sure you could call him just a friend. He’d let you call him more than that for the rest of time.
#besties I did not proof read this#I’ll do it in the morning maybe#kit’s playhouse#obey me#om#omswd#obey me shall we date#mammon#obey me mammon#obey me nightbringer#obey me mc#omnb#mammon x mc#mammon x reader#obey me Drabble#om drabble#om mammon#omnb mammon#om mc#obey me x mc
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