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dawnwriterimagines · 4 months ago

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The Guilty Plea

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER

Traitors Among Us (Part 1) and Innocents Among You (Part 2)

Verdict Due (Part 4) Clear Skies (Part 5)

Summary: As you're discharged from the infirmary, under watchful eye, you head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

Running your fingers along the raised, pink scar across you cheek, the feeling of it...it really looked terrible. A part of you thought it would disappear, hoped it would, but it didn't. It just became severely more noticeable. Looking at this, you knew you'd always have to think of it. You'd sport this reminder for the rest of your life.

Looking away from it, you find your own tired eyes in the mirror, you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all. You can't remember the last time you got 4 hours, let alone 8. Dark circles still surrounded them but at least the bruising and the swelling had gone down.

You couldn't recognize yourself. Not really.

This woman looked so exhausted, so frail and so goddamn angry. It was accurate, it was how you felt. All of it. So, you supposed that the mirror's reflection was the truth, this was you indeed.

"If you need another day or two, no one will ask questions."

You glance over towards your psychologist, your fucking therapist, a nice little 'gift' sent over by the bureau to check in on your mental state after your ordeal. Glaring at him through the reflection of your mirror, he sighs, putting down his pen that slaps against his notepad, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I'm going to Laswell." Ignoring his statement, you speak. "I'm ready. I'll pack up. Get back to base. Vera had me discharged from the infirmary. I can start ov--"

"Vera?"

"My nurse. You met her," you continued, annoyance spiking at the interruption. Your wrist brace squeaking quietly under the pressure of your fist tightening beneath the table.

"Right..."

"Do you listen to a word I say outside of...my 'trauma'?" You wonder, bluntly.

Your psychologist blinks, surprised, before clearing his throat, appalled. "If you feel I can be more attentive to your state of well-being throughout our process, than by all means--"

"Oh, so 'no'?" you lean back into your seat, a strained laugh leaving you. His lips press together and you continue before he can find the words. "Because whenever I mention leaving this fucking team, you either adjust our schedule for another two weeks or suggest hypnotic therapy, as if I need anyone else digging around to fuck up my mental state."

"I never meant to imply--"

"Oh, you implied it," you interrupted, gritting your teeth. "I know what I want. And I want off Task Force 141."

He taps at the leather of his notebook. "Scars heal, just remember that, Ms. (L/n). The reminders of your experience shouldn't have to haunt you."

"It's not the scars, I've had my share way before this," you admitted, rising to your feet. You exhale deeply that tells to the effort of it, the steel gear hinges along your leg braces shift with your change of position. Still getting use to them. "It's the person."

"Has she changed, you think?" the psychologist begins to write, getting somewhere.

"She doesn't exist anymore."

Finally, placing the mirror down and onto the side table, you pushed off of the table, rolling your IV pole along with you. Passing the chair your psychologist sits on, he closes his notebook with a frustrated huff, looking over his shoulder. "Session over for you already, Ms. (L/n)?" he sighs. "We've still got the hour."

"I'm done," you take the knob in your hand. Turning.

In more ways than one.

"You understand that, informing your captain on your leave is required of you. Have you spoken to any of them, in the last few weeks?" he spoke up, quickly. "I'm sure giving them a space to open up, share from their view--"

"Why should I care--"

"--will give you better understanding, better clarity of the situation they were in--

Appalled. "What the fuck?" Jamming the door closed with a loud, shuttering thud, you whip around. "IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM!" you could just rip your hair out. "Who--who says that to someone?!"

Your psychologist sits there, eyes wide in confusion. "What--"

"Christ, can you hear me? Can you--can you see me? I've got metal plates in my spine, braces holding my knees in place and nerve damage that'll never heal! Who gives a fuck about them!" your skin feels red hot, your face twisted in rage. "I gave my life! My life to this! And then I'm tortured, I'm threatened, drugged and beaten by my own team, my f--my family for eight fucking years..."

You continue with a heavy chest. "And I'm supposed to invite them for dinner to talk and listen them bitch and moan about why they thought it was necessary to beat me to death for two weeks?! Fuck you!" you spat. "I don't owe them anything!"

"That's not what I was trying to say, Ms. (L/N). I apologize, I overstepped. Come sit down--"

"Of course you meant it," you interrupted, mock humor. "Don't be a pussy, own up to it. Revel in your truth. Be tter yet--" you snatch a journal from the cabinet. Tossing it his way. "Make a note of it."

Turning the knob, you leave the room with a slam of the metal door.

---

You were officially famous. On the base, you were now a legend.

A story that would be mentioned and told at lunch for months. Probably years.

First, you were a rat. Next, you were innocent. This was the most gossip any of those in service had ever seen in their years of service.

An interesting reminder to those in service that you weren't safe off duty either.

You learned a few days ago that there was an update put into the interrogational unit, something about how to properly go about dissecting evidence and being on the lookout for enemy spies in the militia.

You guessed you had been told about it in an effort to be appeased by the thought that the head of control paid attention to anything beyond their own noses for once. But, you had little to no faith in a system that's nearly killed you on and off the field by now, so it didn't matter.

You doubted the new rules would be followed though, there was a plethora of things they'd done to you in that cell that were both illegal and unsanctioned. Most of all, that were expected towards an enemy, a prisoner of war at best, and not a fellow marine.

You arrive at the housing quarters, swiping your key card, pulling the handle and entering the wing. Immediately, you're greeted by a dozen eyes, conversations stopping short and clothes ruffling to silence, suddenly whispers fill the space and eyes turn away.

"Oh, god, it's her..." says one man in the far corner.

"Shut the fuck up, man!" came a harsh whisper back.

"I didn't know it was that bad..."

All those eyes on you, makes you pause in your step, looking around at all of your fellow soldiers, the men and women you've served with for years. Many you recognized, ate with, fought beside that turned their backs to you now. Out of respect? Out of distaste, morale, nerves, pity, it all didn't matter. It all felt the same.

The wheels attached to your IV pole suddenly sounded much too loud on the polished flooring, as you walked down the hall as fast as you were able to.

Breathing out deeply, you get to an elevator, pushing on the button, once, twice, three times, just open goddamn it.

With a ding, the metal doors open, and suddenly you're aware that people could be in the elevator, they could be in this elevator, he could be in this elevator. Your eyes flicker down to the floor, your grip on the pole of your iv tightens, your shoulders stiffen, waiting for a blow that will never come.

You stand there as the doors open up, the small space empty, the metal walls reflect only her and a streak of lighting from the ceiling.

Looking up slowly, finally taking a breath, before sliding the iv up and onto the elevator, following it as you press your floor number along the way.

The ride up is fast, a little rumble as it stops, and then the doors open. Faster than you were prepared for.

Peeking out down the hallway, luckily no one to bump into, which you were thankful for. But, it didn't make this hall any less haunting. You'd been cornered in this same hall, you could recall being hauled out of the room after the solid handle of a knife hits your temple.

You don't go down fast enough, whipping around as you stumble to take the wrist of your attacker, mostly for balance, it's Price. In shock, you're unprepared as Johnny's arm encircle your neck, locking you into position as you both stumble backwards onto the floor. He blocks your airways, hushing you harshly as you struggle, feet kicking out and your vision blurring as your team surrounds you. Your family.

That was quite the headache to wakeup with afterwards.

You hadn't quite remembered until now. Being back served as a hell of a kickstart to your memory.

Just a few more reasons to get the fuck off of 141.

Getting off the elevators, the metal doors sliding closed behind you, you make your way down the hall. The polished flooring creates a subtle squeak through the wheels of your iv pole, your hand absently running over the fading stitches along your side.

Passing the shadows of your tortured memory, the doorway of the office was closed, locked.

You pass Kyle's room.

Johnny's.

Finally, you rush up to the next room on the left, grabbing the handle, before beginning to twist, but then you're yanking your hand back as if the metal had burned you. Your back ramming into the back wall, catching yourself, this wasn't your room.

It was Simon's.

You'd spent hours, days, in that room. More than your own.

Why wouldn't you? You were about to get married to the man. You had more in this room than you had in yours.

Sharp breaths leave you, shivering in your effort to keep yourself together, your head goes back into the wall, swallowing down the ache in your chest.

You wait, muscles tensed and your body pressing back into the wall, hoping it'd absorb you if that door opens. Listening for every sound, any pin drop, even an exhale from beyond that doorway. Luckily, Simon seemed to be out for the day.

Hurriedly, nearly running, you steady yourself against the wall as you rush down to the corner of the hallway, finally finding your room.

Turning the handle, it's not locked, it's broken. It opens with ease.

Entering the room slowly, pushing the doorway aside, the crackle of glass beneath your boots as you step forwards, clothes and picture frames laying scattered.

The mattress flipped and ripped open, springs and cotton cut from it. Your wall of metals and certificates, from acts of bravery and mementos of valor, discarded, later you'd find them in the trash, one with a bullet lodged into the gold.

Sniffling as you leaned down, picking a specific frame off the ground, the only one that hadn't been broken. Laying along the ruined rug, with no care for the glass digging through your jeans, you stare at the still shot of your family.

The only family you had outside of Task Force 141, your father and his sister, military brats themselves, until their retirement. Your mother had passed, or just up and left, days after your 5th birthday, you weren't completely sure, the story kept changing every year. But, these two were the only family you've ever known, ever had, until you joined the military, following in their footsteps.

They'd been so proud when you arrived back after your first assignment, in truth you were heavily traumatized, but seeing them, you just had to smile. Having a family that understood the harsh toll on the line of a trooper, now a lieutenant, it was always easier to bring your troubles to them. But, they were also military nuts so "suck it up" was also a quick go to answer from your aunt, while your father was the smoother talker.

They had met Simon, loved him, his rank, his love for you, his seriousness. They trusted him completely with your heart.

So, when he called them, after the evidence leaked...

They believed him.

"What're you talking about?" You took the handle of the chair in your grip, easing you down into it as your legs do weak at what you were hearing. "I didn't...I didn't do it, Dad."

"Do you know how humiliating and disappointing--how it felt to hear him say that to me, hm?" he says, static crackles on the reciever. "My daughter...my own flesh and blood...working with terrorists--"

"I'm not working with anyone! Are you-" you huff out a breath of disbelief. "Are you even listening to me? I've never betrayed the code. How can you think that way of me?"

For a moment, he's silent. "Alright, then," he began. "Than, what'd you do? huh?"

"What--what..."

"Oh, come on, (Y/n)!" your father yells. "What did you do?! What could they possibly have had on you that made you the most likely target? You had to have had done something, been somewhere, were with somebody you weren't supposed to be with! They didn't just get that information from anywhere."

"What the fuck--" Your expression twists with frustration and misery, running your hand through your hair, pulling at it. "I've sacrificed every part of myself for this job, for this team, what do I have to gain from throwing that all away? They send me everywhere, places you've never heard of, places you'll never hear about and people you'll never have to meet, because of me! Why would you just believe Simon? Why couldn't you just wait to talk to me?!"

Hearing your father scoff at your words was painful. "What reason do I have not to believe him? He knows you, maybe even better than any of us. Besides, he was going to be my son in law--"

"I'm your daughter! Fuck Simon, what about me? You'd believe him instead?"

He sighs. "Listen, you're upsetting Cass. We didn't expect your call. I gotta make this brief..."

"You're upset?" pulling at your hair, sucking in sharply. "I'm the one who's permanently fucking altered here. What do either of you have to be upset about?!"

"Watch your fucking mouth!" he seethes. The anger in his voice isn't new, but the way he spits it at you is. "You did this to yourself, I didn't. Maybe that's what your nightmares were about, am I right? Your guilt?"

Wiping the streaks of tears that had fallen down your face, lips quivering and chest aching with sobs you frustratedly shoved down. "Why don't you believe me?"

"I don't deserve the disgrace that will come with you as my kin, I've lived my part of this war. No daughter of mine should even be in this fucking position," your father spat, disgusted into the receiver. Suddenly, he was the cruel, bitter old man your mother had always known him to be, you wished she had stayed to at least remind you of that. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. "You should be ashamed of yourself, but at least you got yourself out it. The least you could do for us."

"Well--what does that mean?" you spoke, quietly.

"Don't call again..."

"Dad, no--" you break this time, a sob escaping you.

"Me and your Aunt Cass..."

"Daddy please, don't do this--"

"..We've decided to cut ties. We're not taking any heat from this, you're on your own," he finishes, clearing his throat, waiting a moment, listening to the pleads and cries of his only daughter, his once pride. "You take care of yourself. Goodbye, kid."

"Why can't you just believe me? Why?!" you cried.

"Don't come to the house."

"No, no,--" the line goes dead. And staring down at your phone, his caller id going blank and the call disconnecting.

Your phone all of a sudden feels heavy, the device and your hand falling down to your thigh, before the phone slips out of your grip and onto the floor. You sit there silently, until your tears drop up and even after.

Staring at the photo now was haunting in its own way, it was just another painful reminder.

Using the bed frame to stand to your feet, your grip on the frame is painful as you squeeze it, the glass cracks audibly.

"Bonnie..."

Whipping around at the sound of John MacTavish's voice, you back up a few steps at the sight of him, your back hitting the edge of your desk.

He reaches out as you stumble, before his fingers curl back into his palm as you find your balance, his hands receding back to his sides. He doesn't enter the room, just lingering just beyond the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room, guiltily.

"I didn't know--we didn't know you were out," he speaks quietly, as opposed prideful personality that translated into his voice usually.

You say nothing.

In the dark, your eyes are wide and your shoulders are tensed up, he can see the glint of your leg braces, the iv pole at the side, the scar beneath your eye. You looked terrified to see him.

"We were coming back to clean up today, just got back from...from a mission..." he stutters on his words, shifting his feet.

"It's been a week."

His lips press together hearing your voice. "I know..." Johnny glances around at the room he'd let those officers destroy, it hadn't been them, but they might as well had done it. "I know...we just...didn't know it was so bad."

"Really?" your voice is mockingly sweet, drawing out the word. "You didn't know? Well look..." you hold up your family photo, the light in the hallway catching on the glass. "You missed one."

Your hand dropping, the heavy frame comes down just as fast, ramming into the ground, the glass practically exploding on impact.

Johnny flinches, the photo of your family...He looks back to you, surprised. "Bonnie..."

Snatching the next closest thing from your desk, a ceramic cup. "Oh, wow, can't believe you guys missed this one," you chuck it into the wall. It breaks on impact, the remains scatter along the flipped mattress and onto the floor. "That used to be my favorite mug by the way."

The Scotsman worriedly steps forwards, 'Lass, I'm sorry--"

"FUCK YOU!" you spat, coming into the light. You're sure you look deranged, and you didn't care. You could've wrapped your hands around his throat, killed him right on the floor and you wouldn't have blinked. "It doesn't mean anything! 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', over and over and over again! As if you shouldn't be! Your apologies mean fuck all."

"I know...I know," he breathes. "But, I've gotta say it anyway, bonnie. I should've believed you, there was no reason not to. I know that now. I just--"

"Believe me!" you cut him off with a yell. "Trust me! Fucking 'HELP ME'!" you screamed with the same fever as your days in the interrogation room, that terrible cell, the cold, the burn and pain. "I cried it all to you, to all of you, and nobody came. Nobody came for me," you breathe in sharply. "It doesn't matter what you should've done. You didn't do it!"

Johnny's eyes are red, he opens his mouth, closes it and then swallows down whatever chokes him up as he looks at you. "I should've came for you. I wish I did. I wanted to, Bonnie..." he steps forwards, and you recede back away from him, your eyes narrowed with violence. "I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you. For not coming to help you. For laying a hand on you. I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I'm sorry..."

I'll never forgive myself... "That makes two of us," you assured.

Johnny's eyes widen, before they close, his guilt ever consuming. He can't help but understand, to respect your decision, to know things can never be ok again. "(Y/n)...."

Grabbing hold of the nearest thing, a pencil cup, you hurl it at Johnny. He doesn't put his hands up, flinching as it hits him, the metal clinking against his kevlar, eyes closing then opening, he stands still. "I don't forgive. I don't accept your apology. I don't fucking care about it!" with each sentence you throw something else his way, a broken frame, the trash bin, a pillow, the CD player.

His hand has to come up for the knife you unsheathe, a memento from one of your missions, it's rusted, ancient probably. But, you hadn't given it up to a museum or to pawn, you had nearly died on this mission, saving Johnny ironically. You had to keep it.

Seeing the weapon, his defensive position is instinctive but his hands drop just as fast, he understands, you need this. You deserve this. "If you need to..." he speaks. Your eyes flicker up to him, away from the knife. "If you need to, I get it..."

And you need to. You really fucking do.

Your grip on the knife is dangerously hard, it hurts.

Looking at Johnny, he'd been your brother in more than a few ways on and off the field, he had been your comfort, your friend, your family. You had bled with him, held onto him as he carried you from the battlefield, joked, laughed, screamed and cried. You've loved him for years.

He'd had a rough few nights you could see that. He was quieter, reserved. Almost as terrified to see you, as you had been of him.

And you could kill him right now and never bat an eye.

And so, throwing that knife was so fucking easy.

Johnny's eyes close as you do just that, fists clenching and teeth biting down on his tongue to prepare for the pain.

The ancient weapon whiz's through the air, the sound is sharp and he knows it will cut through him like butter.

The thud rings in the room, and Johnny's eyes blow open wide, holding his breath as he collapses to his knees, before turning to you.

You dig into the pile of clothes that had been cast aside, a pair of sneakers and a new shirt. You don't look at him a single time as you take it all, stuffing them in a bag, and leaving the room, passing him completely, a limp in your step.

Johnny releases a pained breath, tears finally leaving him as he looks up, the knife lodged into the frame of the doorway, just barely missing him. The sleeve of his uniform ripped open.

He sits there in the quiet, destroyed room. A testimony to the relationship he's destroyed between you.

Part 4!! OUT NOW

#simon riley angst x reader #cod angst #tw torture #tw angst #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost angst #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty

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s1m0nth3swag · 8 months ago

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Francis Mosses x GN!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.

The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.

The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.

Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.

A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?

Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.

You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.

"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.

Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.

"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.

When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.

Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.

Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #x reader #gn reader #thats not my neighbor #milkman x reader

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no-144444 · 1 month ago

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mi señora - f.colapinto

Day 7 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: you and franco barely know each other, yet he's obsessed with you. could this turn into a budding romance?

pairing: franco colapinto x fem!wolff!reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Franco was flirty. You’d been warned before he even joined the paddock that he was. Never did you think it would be so annoying. Day in, day out, he’s sitting there fucking with you, trying to make you laugh or swoon or, whatever. It never worked, obviously. It didn’t matter either way, you tried not to notice it.

“He’s in love with you,” Alex chuckled as he leaned on your desk in the garage.

“We met last week-”

“He’s in love with you!”

“We’ve barely spoken!”

“You’re my race engineer,” he laughed. “You two speak all the time!” “Yeah, about racing. How could he even know what I’m like?”

“Y/n!” Franco’s voice rang out in the garage. It was late, you didn’t know why anyone would still be here except you and Alex to run some last minute checks, well, because Singapore was unforgiving at the best of times. “I was looking for you.”

He rested a hand on the back of your chair, smiling at you. “Hi,” he grinned, his eyes boring into yours.

“Hi,” you smiled back. “Everything alright?”

Alex smirked as he watched your exchange. It was so clear that Franco had a crush on you, and you didn’t even notice.

“When are you heading back to hospitality? I can walk with you, no?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “In a few minutes, just helping Alex with some last minute stuff. You can join us walking back if you want-”

“Count me out, I’m not listening to your third wheeling,” Alex smirked before leaving the garage.

“Well, I guess it is just you and me then,” he smiled.

“Just you and me,” you sighed, nodding. You shutdown your computer and grabbed your bag (only for him to take it off of you immediately and hold it for you), and the 3 minute walk to hospitality began.

“So, what do you like to do outside of racing?” he asked.

“Well, I like to read, I like to ride my dirtbike, I like playing tennis, I like mountain biking” you listed. “That’s kind of it,” you shrugged.

“You have a dirtbike?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Danny got it for me when I was a teenager, I was always around the paddock with my dad so he just decided to get me one, and we usually go out together. It’s a nice way to de-stress after the season,” you explained.

“Are you and Danny close?”

“Yeah, he’s like a dad to me,” you nodded. “What about you? What do you like to do outside of racing?”

“Well, I like to hike, I like to watch movies, and I like your company,” he smirked. You laughed.

“You need to stop doing that,” you chuckled. “People will think we’re together or something.”

“And being with me would be so bad?” he feigned hurt as you laughed.

“No, but it would ruin your chances of getting an actual girlfriend,” you teased.

He scoffed. “The only ‘actual girlfriend’ I want is you.”

You were quiet for a minute. Why had he said that? Why did he feel the need to say that? Why was he so pretty and perfect and smooth and charming? Why would he put you in this awful predicament?

He turned to you and you both stopped walking.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but it is true, I really like you. If you want me to stop I will stop,” he told you.

“I don't want you to stop,” you answered, your eyes stuck to his like glue.

He broke out into his perfect smile and nodded. “Alright,” he blushed. “So you’ll go out with me?”

“I’ll go out with you,” you chuckled.

He stared at you for a moment longer, then pressed his lips to yours in a soft, comfortable kiss.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

francocolapinto

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, and 876,938 others

francocolapinto: mi señora

comments

merecedesamgf1team: Come to my office right now- toto. -> user35: HAHAAHAAH -> fernandoalonso: he just wants to talk I'm sure

user56: WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO BE HAPPY?

landonorris: SINCE WHEN? -> francocolapinto: last night? -> charlesleclerc: that was fast.

y/ny/l/n: ❤️

alexalbon: I FUCKING KNEW IT

lilymhe: cuties ❤️

danielriccardo: shit now i have to meet him!!!! -> y/ny/l/n: YAY DANNY COME TO THE WILLIAMS GARAGE PLEASE

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto fic #franco colapinto social media au #franco colapinto smau #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfic

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atskiruma · 2 years ago

Text

his attempts at courting you

expl: he finds himself thinking about you more often, wanting to seek you out consistently, and giving you numerous gifts every day to see you smile

a/n: it has come to my attention that the last ff i wrote, (snow day) was not very well depicted for all readers to enjoy, i want to apologize for that and promise that i will get better at trying to make sure everyone is able to read it and enjoy it, my writings are targeted for all | unfortunately, i can not edit it right now seeing as there's a poll going on, but once that poll is finished i will change my wording in the ff

ask me anything masterlist

second person writing no pronouns used

Zhongli often felt himself thinking about you more often while he was working around the parlor. Even seeking out your name in conversations and listening more attentively when someone was speaking about you. It didn't confuse him though, he was aware of his interest in you.

You opened up the warmth in his heart and welcomed him kindly every time you two saw each other. It made him happy to see you happy, and this was evident when flowers were delivered directly to your door one sunny afternoon.

"These are for you," The mail lady said before turning around and walking away to do more deliveries. You didn't even get to ask who they were from before she was gone. Staring down at the bouquet of tiger lilies in front of you, you could only assume that the bright orange and black colors could depict a certain someone's hair color.

It was a nice piece on your kitchen counter and went well with the other decorations spiraling around your house. That was, until the next morning, you were greeted again with another gift. A bright orange vase to compliment the tiger lilies you received the other day. It was funny, why was he going out of his way to send you such nice gifts?

You finally managed to confront him when you saw Childe and Zhongli sitting together on the seats of an outside cafe. Walking over and waving to the both of them. They greeted you back, and small talk was given for only a couple minutes.

"I actually came over here to thank Zhongli," This caught his attention, and he turned to look up at you, "I really loved the flowers you sent and the vase goes really well with them too!" You said while smiling.

He nodded back at you, seemingly collecting himself extremely quickly at the fact you figured out so quick who it was. "I'm glad you liked them," He said.

"I came to give you this in return," You said," "I know it's probably not as extravagant as the ones you gave me, but I like it." Handing over the small gift box, he opened it and smiled softly at the item. It was a small keychain, nothing special, and it was decorated with a lovely orange seem.

That same keychain would be hung up right next to his bedframe, along with variant letters you sent him on the table accompanying it.

Diluc was someone who took courting another person seriously. He found it tradition since his father had spoken so much of it when Diluc was younger. He always wanted to treat the one he loved with respect and be as much of a gentleman as possible.

This was why you were taking a stroll with him through his grapevines on a sunny afternoon. He offered for you to come down to the Winery a couple days ago and you had just gotten around to accepting his offer. His hand rested on your back as he took you through multiple different paths and explained everything. As you strolled, he talked about things concerning the vine, his profits, the seasons they needed to be planted, etc.

You smiled at him, knowing it was something he took dear to his heart, and listened very attentively to what he was saying. In reality, Diluc was really hoping that all he was talking about didn't bore you in any way.

Then, the next couple of hours were spent sitting in his large dining room, eating food made by the cooks in his home. It was nice, and you were very happy that he wanted to spend this much time with you. Diluc even found himself watching you eat here and there, asking you if the food was good or if you needed anything else in the time being.

After everything was over, and the night sky shined over the two of you as you stood outside his doors, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your hand. Telling you how much of a pleasure it was to have you here, and how he wished you could stay longer.

Diluc even offered to walk you home, tediously not taking no for an answer, he reached down to take your hand and hold it the whole walk home.

Alhaitham was very closed off when he first met you, he was closed off with anyone in general. He found it strange that you always seemed to be there when he was thinking about you, and when his eyes would try and search a room in the akademiya for you.

He realized that something had to be done about this, so, he did what any other raging nerd would do, and researched about it.

You also found it odd when you'd see him looking at you from across the library, or holding the door open for you whenever you'd walking behind him. Alhaitham always seemed like the guy who only cared about his own, yet he was so evident in helping you out here and there.

Helping you when you'd be confused about a book, rewording your essays to make them better. Alhaitham seemed to want to assist you with almost everything. This was no different than today.

You found yourself back at the library looking down at a long-written parchment on the forest rangers' activities. Trying to figure out how you could make this work in the essay you were conducting on Sumeru's forest.

This was when you heard the chair scrap right next to you, and looked up from where you had originally been focused. Alhaitham took his seat next to you, slightly taking up more space than necessary with his manspreading.

"Do you need help with that? It looks like a longer report than usual for you."

"Longer than usual?" You shot back, "Are you saying that I'm not capable of reading this?" His eyes widened a bit and he instantly tried to retort his original statement. "No, no, I thought- Well- You know you usually read shorter reports in order to get more details. I didn't think you'd take something this large to account."

His confession made you smile, and you leaned in closer, "How'd you know how I like my reports?" At the response with your cheeky grin, a blush formed on his cheeks before he looked away.

"Scholars are supposed to be attentive, it's natural to know a few things you prefer in order to work best with you."

The response he sent back your way caused you to roll your eyes and turn back to what you were originally doing. "To answer your question, no, I do not need help, but thank you for offering."

That didn't seem to make him budge, because he kept sitting there watching you copy down and write words from the book.

"You misspelled climate."

The sound of a book colliding with his head echoed throughout the library.

Ayato enjoyed your company, a lot, so much that he seeks you out anytime he and his sister go down to festivals or strolls through the city. He always wanted to start up a conversation with you, and if anyone else walked by anytime he'd be down there, Ayato would be right next to you listening with a smile at whatever you said.

Ayaka loved you too and found it amusing that her brother was so interested in you. She often found herself trying to spark up conversations with you, asking if her older brother proposed yet in a joking manner.

You laughed it off, Ayato was nice but you were sure he had other rich and important people to concern his love life with. He was just a very nice man to talk with here and there, and you didn't seem to notice that you were one of the few he'd actually seek out.

That was, until, every time he saw you, he came with some form of jewelry or expensive item to give you. Asking you how your day was, what you were doing, and if you wanted to come to spend some time up at the estate with him.

"What about Ayaka?" You said with a tilt of your head in confusion. He smiled back and said, "I'm sure she'd rather stay down here and explore more of the shops.

Ayaka would have loved to come along, but before she could even turn around, the two of you were already heading back up to the estate.

He catered to you, made sure you were comfortable, and even asked if you'd like anything from his personal chefs. It was a bit much to handle, seeing as you weren't used to living so luxurious, but he was very nice about it all and understood.

The catering didn't stop after that day either, more and more people began to wonder why the Kamisato siblings were spending so much more time outside their palace. Ayaka once mentioned that you loved a certain color, and the next day Ayato was handing you a box with that color, and a necklace with the pearl containing that color too.

He even found himself marching over to you when he saw someone speaking to you in a more flirtatious matter. Moving next to you and asking if everything was alright while his hand wrapped around your own.

#ayato imagines #diluc imagines #alhaitham imagines #zhongli imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #diluc x reader

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prodkatsu · 1 year ago

Text

youtuber ⨾ suna

youtuber!suna who roasts people on his channel, reacts to various things, gives his review on many topics and sometimes shows the mundane things in his life.

youtuber!suna who is a well known content creator and has almost 2 million subscribers.

youtuber!suna has a big fanbase because boys admire him for his attitude and think he's cool while girls love him because he's pretty and well spoken.

fans of youtuber!suna go batshit when they get to know their favourite youtuber is in a relationship. they calm down when they see how happy suna is in his relationship and how nice you are.

youtuber!suna likes to keep his private life aside but he loves it when you support him from behind the camera or accidentally appear on the video.

youtuber!suna keeps the shots of you mindless coming into the room he's recording and asking him about dinner.

youtuber!suna never publicly talks about you but during livestreams on instagram if people ask him about you he'll reply to them.

youtuber!suna makes you sit by the camera where people can't see anything except your shoulder or your legs that are draped over suna's lap while he caresses them.

youtuber!suna who is sharing his views on a topic and he would ask you about your opinion and would listen to them intently.

people know what you look like because of your various accidental and sometimes intentional appearances on youtuber!suna videos.

youtuber!suna would make you watch certain videos with him so you two can react together and cringe and laugh at them.

after gaining a lot of fans youtuber!suna gets more comfortable in showing his relationship and asks you to do more frequent appearances if you're comfortable.

youtuber!suna now lets you take over his youtube channel for a day. you vlog your daily life with him and how you roast the man who loves to roast people.

fans of youtuber!suna makes cute edits of the interactions between you, how he treats you with utmost respect and love, how your eyes light up whenever you're talking to him, the heated gazes and soft kisses before you leave him alone to do the rest of the video. everyone loves you two because you two are just the prettiest and perfect couple out there.

youtuber!suna now talks more freely about his relationship with you and tells everyone how you have been with him since highschool. he shares your memories with his fans and tell them how you've always been his number one fan.

years into the gig youtuber!suna posts a video of him proposing to you. you saying yes to him and him crying while hugging you.

youtuber!suna becoming a household name around the world and everyone is happy for how he has grown. now a father to a twin with a lovely wife who loves him a lot and he loves her too with the same passion as day one.

#— prodkatsu 𔓘 #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #suna fluff #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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vikkirosko · 4 months ago

Note

Headcanons of how would Stolas, Fizzarolli, Asmodeus, Sir Pentious, Husk, and Alastor react to their crush remembering something that he said to them in passing?

Headcanons Fleeting words

📻 Alastor x Reader 🎙

Alastor has always been attentive to his words. He knew that accidentally thrown words could play a cruel joke and used it himself. Even with you, he was always attentive to what he said, albeit for a slightly different reason. However, Alastor did not expect you to listen so attentively to what he was saying

During one of your conversations, you told him that you had found a spice shop just like in New Orleans. Your words surprised him, but you said that Alastor himself said that he would like to find good spices that would be just like those used by his mother. It took Alastor a couple of seconds to realize what you were talking about

He mentioned it literally only once and managed to forget it himself. It was just thinking out loud, but you remembered it and found the right place on purpose. Alastor did not expect this, but he would be lying if he said that such attention did not flatter him

Alastor was pleased to know that you were so attentive to him. He didn't talk about it openly, but he liked it. The attention you gave him warmed him up, even though he would never tell you about it, at least not now

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

Husk was a bartender and one of his unspoken duties was to listen to the bar patrons. However, he also had someone who listened to him, although he did not always notice it. It was you. You often sat at the bar while he was working and listened to him grumble. You didn't drink alcohol and didn't tell him about all your problems. You were just there so he wouldn't get bored while he was working

When he was about to go back to his room late at night, you stopped him and handed him some playing cards. Husk looked at you in surprise, and then recognized in these playing cards the ones that were missing from him. You smiled gently and said that Niffty gave you these cards. Husk took the cards, realizing that he really told you a few days ago about the lost playing cards

A few days ago, he told you that a couple of his old playing cards were missing and he had no idea where they were. He didn't think to look for them, because he had other decks of cards, but you remembered that he told you about it and even returned the loss to him

Husk thanked you. His face didn't show much emotion, but he was really grateful to you. Not so much for returning the loss to him, but for being attentive to him. He listened to others, and you listened to him and it was nice to realize

🐍Sir Pentious x Reader 🎩

Sir Pentious talked a lot. He didn't always notice it, but he really liked talking. Often it could just be thinking out loud, but he was always listened to, even when he didn't know about it. You listened to him. You spent a lot of time with Sir Pentious and it didn't bother you at all. Sometimes it seemed that you were not listening to him, but Sir Pentious was not offended, he often could not notice this at all during his work

Sir Pentious didn't always remember what he said, but you remembered his words well. That's why when you came back to the hotel from the city, you brought some parts for his airship. You brought him a box of spare parts with a smile on your lips, causing surprise on his face. When he asked you what it was, you said it was the parts he was talking about

He remembered saying he needed new details, but he didn't think you'd remember that. It was a fleetingly spoken phrase that he said while he was thinking what he needed to buy, but he couldn't even think that you would go and buy these parts for him. Sir Pentious had no idea that you were listening to him so attentively

Sir Pentious wanted to do something for you, too, so he listened carefully to what you told him. You made him happier and he wanted you to know how much he loves you

🦉 Stolas x Reader 🎩

From the very beginning of your relationship, Stolas tried to be open. It was a relationship in which he was not afraid to show his feelings and tell about his thoughts and desires. He was glad that you accepted him for who he is. Sometimes he thought about what he would like to do with you. Simple, sweet, romantic dates were not something he could go on before, so it seemed very interesting to him

Due to business, he was forced to leave for almost the whole day and returned only in the evening. But there was a surprise waiting for him at home. You've prepared a romantic dinner for the two of you. When he asked what was the reason for this, you said that he said that he would like a romantic dinner, but because he was very busy, you decided that instead of taking him to a restaurant, you could arrange a romantic dinner right at home

Stolas hugged you tightly and then said that you were beautiful. He was really grateful to you for listening to him, despite the fact that he talked about a romantic dinner more fleetingly than actually planning something like that. But you gave him such a wonderful surprise, which he could not have dreamed of before

You spent a wonderful evening together and Stolas hoped that this would not be the last surprise that you arranged for him. Stolas felt loved by your side. He was glad that you appeared in his life. It was a real gift for him

🐓 Asmodeus x Reader 💕

Ozzie didn't always tell you what was on his mind. He knew that you were always there to listen to him, but he didn't want to burden you with his problems. He usually shared only good things or something neutral with you, but sometimes he didn't notice how he could say anything, but you were always attentive to what he was saying even if he didn't notice it

Asmodeus had a hard day. He had been traveling most of the day on various work-related business, and now he was back at the factory, where he had a mountain of paperwork waiting for him, which he hated, but had to do. When he came to the office, he saw an unexpected picture. You were sitting in his office, having almost finished sorting out the documents. When he asked what you were doing, you told him that you decided to help him a little and sort out the documents for him so that he wouldn't have to waste time on it

Asmodeus remembered that a few days ago he casually mentioned to you that he would have a busy day, and forgot, distracted by some little thing. But you didn't forget what he said and decided to help him by spending your time and effort to reduce the amount of his work

He picked you up and said he was grateful to you, even though you weren't obligated to do his work for him. It was nice and now you could spend more time together, but he didn't want you to strain yourself with someone else's work. Even if you did it for good reasons

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader 💟

Fizzarolli had a lot of things that he shared with you. He told you about how his training sessions and performances went, about what interesting things he learned. You were always happy to listen to him, but sometimes Fizz forgot the words he said fleetingly. So he forgot that he told you that his rehearsal would end late

When he left the building, he was surprised to see your car and you waiting. You smiled when you saw him and waved. When he came up to you, he asked what you were doing there, and Fizzarolli was genuinely surprised when you said that you decided to meet him. He was surprised that you remembered what he told you and that you decided to meet him, but it was very nice to know that you were so worried about him

While you were driving home, he talked about how his rehearsal went and you listened to him again. Now Fizz noticed it. You were attentive to what he said and more. You've been attentive and caring towards him for a long time, but now he realized that it wasn't recently. You always took care of him and it warmed his heart

He tried to be as caring as you are. You were always attentive and Fizzarolli wanted to repay you in kind, because you really did a lot for him, treating him as a person, and not as a popular clown, for which he was sincerely grateful to you

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss x Reader #Helluva Boss headcanons #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Husk #Husk x Reader #Sir Pentious #Sir Pentious x Reader #Stolas #Stolas x Reader #Asmodeus #Asmodeus x Reader #Fizzarolli #Fizzarolli x Reader

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st-danger · 3 months ago

Note

Dew fuckin Rain real good right before a show but their timing is off and neither of them get to cum so they're just hard and wet and suffering on stage :(((((

It's their own fault, really. Their decision, their bad decision, and they can hardly be upset that their actions have consequences. However, they've always been overachievers, so- they find a way to be upset. Unbelievable to think something as unfair as this could happen to ghouls as wonderful as them. Life on Earth: full of woe and toil cruelly handed to ghouls as wonderful as them.

On the floor of the dressing room, on rough and cheap low pile carpet, Rain burns his knees while someone knocks on the door. Two sharp raps that make both Dew and Rain startle, throwing off the cadence of Dew's hips for a moment.

"Five minutes, you degenerates," comes the muffled voice from the hallway. Swiss, he thinks, though it doesn't actually matter who it is, since they'll dismiss it anyway. Dew especially can ignore anyone at any time.

"Yeah, we know," Dew huffs to Rain between thrusts, and begins to give it harder, faster.

Rain hangs his head, dropping down to his elbows because he can brace himself better against the rhythm that way. And then, to the door, "Five, yeah, got it," and there's a degree of clear difficulty with which the words are spoken, though he's sure that the messenger (who should be shot for messing up the rhythm earlier) has already stalked off. Voice obviously strained, but Dew has no shame about this, and it isn't like Swiss hadn't figured it out already. His hands tighten on Rain's slim hips, and he works towards pulling Rain back onto him to meet each roll of his hips. "C'mon," he urges, "touch yourself, we gotta- we gotta hurry up." He listens, adjusts so he braces himself fully on his left arm to free up his right, and reaches down, in between, pulling in time with what Dew gives him.

He's relentless, just this side of too much. Easier to slide in when he'd had Rain a few hours prior, though he hadn't been particularly nice then and there's an ache that accompanies the way he moves now. Not enough to wince, but enough to know he's going to feel it when he tucks himself into bed tonight. For now, the angle is good, his hand is slippery as it moves over himself, and-

Dew adjusts behind him, gets a hand in Rain's curls and gets one of his legs up, planting his foot so he has greater leverage. A part of Rain's mind goes utterly blank as the heat on his knees continues to burn, pulling on himself harder. Faster. Needier, the way Dew is acting. The backs of his knees are sweaty, and his hairline, too. The big regret will be that they've no option to shower or clean up properly, about to spent well over an hour sweating further under stage lamps and smelling of sex. A blessing, if you will, that the masks and uniform will cover the messy hair and pink, debauched faces. The uniforms are still hanging up, neat and unrumpled because they're considerate. Rain moans into the crook of his arm, fleeting thoughts about the shirt he'll need to sacrifice to get them both as presentable as possible drifting around the sharp shocks of pleasure every time Dew slams in, every flourish of his wrist around his head.

"They're gonna smell it on you," Dew grunts, getting a tighter grip of hair. Not quite mean, but far from nice. "Everyone's gonna know, aren't they? Yeah? Pretty little slut like you-" his voice breaks just for a moment before he's about to recover, and continues, "Couldn't wait, could you? Just had to have it? Wanted it this bad."

"Th'swas your idea," Rain slurs, and if he weren't so lost in it all, if he weren't as close as he is, it might have sounded more amused than petulant. "You're the one-"

"Can't help yourself," Dew continues, blatantly ignoring the opportunity to take ownership of his actions. Running his mouth, in his own little world. Talking more for his own benefit, more to work himself up further than it is to get Rain that much more keyed up. "Made for this, huh Rain? Make it worth my while now and, fuck, be good and maybe you'll get more of me later-"

A knock. Another one. And not just that, but a rattling of the doorknob as well.

"Hey, jackasses," comes Cirrus's voice. She's the only one able to sound that stern. "You better be dressed, we're supposed to be backstage already."

Much like waking up having missed an alarm, the shock of realizing just how quickly they've run out of time cascades down their collective spines like the worst, most needed cold shower. Panic, while sometimes a thrill, is most often a more efficient way to temper flames.

Dressing is a harried, awful disaster, with Dew pulling out quick enough they both cringe. Fingers fumbling on snaps and laces, cocks tucked awkwardly under waistbands because they're not yet soft enough to sit normal in their trousers anyway. Rain's knees are sore, Dew looks wild, and the dash to stage is as uncomfortable as it is embarrassing.

"Two hours," he says over the swell of music and the roar of the crowd, sliding a hand up Rain's chest to grab his throat while the stage is bathed in red light. Behind his bass, Rain aches.

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #dew ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #dew/rain #dewdrop/rain #dewdrop x rain #dew x rain #ghost headcanons

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xiaoluvss · 2 months ago

Text

" to my muse . "⠀♡⠀₊ ° ..

੭* ‧₊° a 14 - line poem . .

— kazuha as the new student in your class .

(transferee!kazuha x shy!reader)

hihihihi i'm back loveliesssss so sorry i was gone for so longggg . . here's a new fic! :) warning ; this is gonna be sum toothrotting fluff!!!

PLEASE READ THE END I'M SO PROUD OF IT,, :') internally crying from how sweet it is . . soft-spoken men♡

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who was the new student who had suddenly come into your class, half of your classmates extremely curious on who he was. he was the literal definition of a sweet prince, flashing soft smiles to people who stared.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who was apparently seated next to you, giving you a soft smile and a nod before turning back his gaze to the front of the class. in truth, you were the one who he found quite intriguing out of all the people in this class. you were . . quiet. and soft, too. every single time he looked at you, an image of a white, fluffy, bunny always flashed into his mind. there were times he has glanced over at you, noticing how you were more reserved than most of the people in this class — yet he refrained from staring too much as he might make you uncomfortable. he didn't want that. especially not from a possible friend. well, once he eventually gathers the courage to approach you . .

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who you found out was japanese from class introductions. you also found that he liked writing haikus and poems. he seemed soft-spoken and gentle, you thought. well . . he genuinely was. a great contrast to all the boys in your class. you know . . the usual troublemakers. or ones who don't put effort into their studies. you knew, because you had been in this same school for ages now.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who had eventually decided to approach you – your sweet perfume lingering in the air as he watched you read quietly in your seat. he couldn't take his eyes off of you, even while talking to friends. he had excused himself, making silent steps towards your figure — ending up behind you. he peeked over your shoulder with a gentle smile to see what you were reading, speaking in a soft tone : "Before The Coffee Gets Cold? You have quite a nice taste in novels,"

once he sees your startled expression as you whip your head around, he immediately backs a few steps away and raises both his hands with an apologetic smile. "ah . . I apologize. did I startle you? I'm sorry. I mean no harm, really. you know me, correct? kaedehara kazuha – I sit next to you. I just thought you needed some company,"

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who eventually managed to calm you down, laughing gently as he leans on top of one of the desks beside you. seeing your shy nod, he finds himself back into his usual gentle smile, not wanting to make you feel pressured. "no need to be scared, I promise I don't bite. I was just finding someone to talk with, is all. someone a bit more reserved? like you. it's a nice break from all the other people in our class," he says. and there you were, finding yourself stuck in an admiring gaze towards him, until he tilts his head with a confused smile – wondering what was so fascinating on his face.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who had eventually started getting closer and closer to you, always excusing himself from his friends for some reason— just to spend lunchtime with you. he was genuinely so patient with you, and always payed attention. you could tell just from his attentive and focused gaze, that he liked listening to your voice. he had to make sure all his attention was on you, because he had decided in his mind, that it wasn't often you would talk.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who always had time for you, actually starting to enjoy spending time with you more than his own group of friends. just one doubtful gaze from you, and he's already reassuring you that he enjoys his time with you. he's telling you all this sweet stuff that's making your face flush, having to turn away from his gaze to hide the pink tint on your cheeks.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who started to notice how you warmed up to him in the past few weeks. you were starting to get more talkative towards him, and him only. he knew how rare this was for you, since he barely saw you talk this much in front of other people. he never commented on it, though. he always making sure you were comfortable, appreciating the fact that you were opening up more and more towards him.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who had now become your best friend, and the one who was the closest to your heart. kazuha was the type to always escort you home, sometimes even knocking on your door early in the morning to walk to school with you. he was the type to teach you japanese phrases if you were curious. he was the type to lean your head onto his shoulder if he found you nodding off. he was the type to pull you closer to him, and even hold your wrist, in crowded places. he doesn't want his favorite person getting lost now, would he?

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who has study sessions with you every now and then in your favorite café. he always ordered a cappucino, and the order never changed no matter how many times you went there together. while writing down onto notebooks and pieces of paper, there were times where you caught him staring at your face – always ending up in his smiling sheepishly and going back to work . . and then the cycle repeats again.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who let you borrow his cream-colored hoodie once he noticed the slightest hint of discomfort in your figure, from the cold. it was just slightly bigger than you, and he kept insisting you wear it no matter how many times you refused to. it smelled really nice . . like his cologne. it was really, really, comfortable too. perfect for a nap. this ended up in many of your classmates asking about you two, or asking whose hoodie it was. he watched from afar as your face turned slightly pink, telling them it was kazuha's.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha whose mom absolutely adores you. just like he does. she almost treats you like her own daughter. you often visited kazuha's place, as much as he does with yours. after so many visits, his mother only grew fonder of you each time. there were multiple reasons for each visit you made to his place. either to study, watch a movie, binge watch a series you like ('just for you', he says), or just to simply hang out. kazuha finds the whole situation sweet, always smiling as he watches his mother shower you with love. and snacks.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who would never not notice something off about you. stressed? he notices, buys you a food or drink you like, helps however he can, and so on. sad? still notices no matter how much you try to hide it. he's trying to make you tell him what's wrong with a bit of coaxing, rubbing your back in gentle circles. you get loads of comfort from him. god, even his voice alone gives you a wave of comfort in a matter of seconds. he's always showering you with compliments . . it makes you wanna cry from how much of a green flag this man was.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha whose heart already found its anchor in you. to him, you were more than just another person in the crowd— you were the light that softened the sharp edges of his world. every glance, every word, only deepened the quiet adoration he held for you, as if you were the melody his soul had been searching for his whole life.

early in the morning, you discover a piece of paper resting on your desk—delicately adorned with neat handwriting, each stroke intentional. a 14-line poem . . just for you. beside it, two tulips were bound together by a ribbon. you already had a suspicion as to who this might be from—as there was only one poetic soul in the classroom. kaedehara kazuha. your suspicions were confirmed as your eyes fell upon the final line, written with unmistakable tenderness: "to my muse – from your favorite boy, kazuha :)" ♡

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talaok · 1 year ago

Note

Hello!

I was thinking about this a little too much today. I often read fics / drabbles about Pedro being all sweet and flirty or him being very confident and flirty … I just want to read a fic about him being the worst flirt ever 😅 I know he’s a flirt in his interviews , but what if he’s really bad at it when it’s time to really seduce someone. Like he messes up what he wants to say , he makes stupid jokes that don’t land.

Do you think you could write that?

summary: Pedro is a bad flirt

A/n: I'm genuinely sorry this took so long, but I had to study like a bastard just for my professor to be an asshole

"please introduce me to her"

"why don't you go there and do it yourself?"

"because I can't"

"why?"

"please"

"fine"

__ __ __

It was a relatively small party, just a few friends and some friend’s friends, nothing huge.

Vanessa, your best friend, had insisted on throwing it, encouraging you to “live a little now that that asshole isn’t in the picture anymore”.

“That asshole”, was indeed your, as of two weeks, ex-boyfriend.

Neither of them had ever been fans of each other, and thinking back at it now, that should have probably been if not red, at least some kind of colored flag.

Anyway, as always, when it was V talking you into something, you had accepted, with a few conditions of course.

Hence, the small party and your playlist playing in the background.

“Y/n, did you know that?”

right, you should have probably been listening to the conversation.

“Uh, no, it’s news to me” you topped with an awkward laugh you hoped would go unnoticed.

“that’s crazy, you learn something new every day” Ryan commented, making you wonder for a sec if perhaps you had actually missed something interesting.

Just as you turned to Claire beside you to investigate, everyone’s attention moved to Vanessa as she strolled toward you.

Not unusual, you thought, she wasn’t a woman that got unnoticed.

What you found when you turned too, however, did pique your interest.

A man walked beside her, Pedro Pascal.

He fell into the friend-of-friends category.

He was one of Vanessa’s oldest friends from back when she studied in New York. She talked about him sometimes, but you had never actually met him, which, thinking about it, why was that?

"hi there, how's it going?" V asked

"very well, Pyke here was telling us that sharks do not have bones"

There it was, mystery solved.

V raised her brows clearly unimpressed "Wow, well that's great" she patted his shoulder, as everyone made space for the pair.

Pedro still hadn't spoken, and a match of awkwardness lighted as you all came to the same realization.

"Alright then, I think I'm gonna get another drink" The shark expert spoke, and all of a sudden Claire and Ryan both got really thirsty too as they followed him to the kitchen.

A strange smile pulled at V's lips

"Anyway, Y/n, this is Pedro" she gestured "Pedro, this is Y/n"

You felt like one of those women in period dramas when their mothers introduce them to a man they think they should marry.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you" You shook his hand "V has told me about you"

"H-hi" he cleared his throat "it's very nice to meet you too"

" Pedro's here to film a movie"

"are you?" you asked, interested

"yes, I- Uhm- I am"

He looked nervous, and you had no idea why.

"Can I know which, or is it like one of those secret Marvel things?" you joked.

"Oh, no, of course" he laughed, "It's Weapons, it's like a horror movie"

"oh" you winced "Well that's lovely, but you'll have to forgive me if I'm not going to watch it. I hate horror movies"

"Oh, why?" he asked looking genuinely perplexed

"I get scared very easily, and... I'll sound like a 5-year-old, but every time I watch one I have troubles sleeping"

"oh that's fine" he laughed " I get it" he nodded "You don't look like a five-year-old at all" he blurted out, his eyes instantly widening as his brain realized what he had just said "Sound! I meant sound like a 5-year-old" he breathed "you look- you look extremely beautiful, not like-" he stopped himself before he could talk again, and just let out a small "oh god"

You shot Vanessa a glance.

"it's fine" you laughed "I got it," you reassured him, placing a hand on his bicep.

"so, since I'm not going to watch it, why don't you tell me what's about?"

His eyes found yours again, something sparking inside of them at the question.

"Oh you know, it's about guns and swords and rifles," he said with a smile.

You couldn't hide your confusion

"I'm sorry?" you asked, half-laughing

"y'know, because it's called weapons" he explained, his voice getting smaller as he realized the joke had bombed.

"Oh" you laughed, actually laughed "Of course! I'm sorry!"

"No, no don't be sorry it was a stupid joke"

"it was funny, I'm just..." You mimicked something with your hands.

"Y/n!" a shout from across the room caught your attention.

Mary was waving desperately at you, which could only mean that she had either broken another piece of furniture or wanted to do shots.

Neither of those options seemed particularly interesting, for some reason you wanted to know more about the man in front of you.

However, you also couldn't ignore one of your best friends.

"I'll be back in a second, I just need to make sure she hasn't broken another vase" you joked with a grin.

"o-ok" he nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed harshly.

"get ready to tell me about all those weapons!" you called out, already walking to the kitchen.

Once you disappeared, Vanessa raised an eyebrow at him, her expression an open book.

"Don't say anything"

"I'm not"

"good"

there was a brief moment of silence before Vanessa couldn't hold it anymore.

She busted out laughing

"Guns and swords!?" she laughed, recalling his joke

"Shut up"

"And the five-year-old thing!?" she kept going "Dude you've been drooling over her for two years and that's what you go for the moment you finally get to talk to her?"

He couldn't do anything but sigh "I need a drink," he said "And I thought it was funny"

"Yeah, you were the only one, my friend"

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vbecker10 · 8 months ago

Text

Loki's Silent Sentry (Part 1)

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: You are not just a soldier in Asgard's Royal Army, you are Lieutenant Y/L/N, Prince Loki's personal guard, his sentry and you are not supposed to fall in love with him. If you followed your training properly, you should never have even spoken to him. As a sentry, you are expected to remain silent and invisible as you shadow your appointed member of the royal family or member of the court protectively throughout their daily tasks.

Rumors (that happen to be true) begin to circulate through the palace that you serve the younger prince of Asgard both outside and inside his chambers. There is little you can do once word of your off duty activities spread through every maid, cook, gardener and seamstress in the palace. You soon find even the soldiers in your own company are now questioning how exactly you had come to earn your seemingly quick rise to lieutenant.

As the annual Winter Solstice Ball approaches, you come to the heartbreaking realization that your relationship with Loki must come to an end if you are both to fulfill your duties.

Warnings: Angst, arguing, Thor being an absolute ass, Odin being a terrible father

A/N: I did some googling quickly for military terms and ranks (since I have no previous knowledge of them) as well as some basic information about the royal guards in England. I took some of what I found interesting and then made up most of the rest to fit what I needed for my story so there will be some similarities. Also... I haven't written anything in like a year (maybe longer) so be nice please 💚💚

You stand at constant attention in silence outside of Prince Loki's private office. You listen to the birds singing through the open window across the hall from where you are posted and wonder how long you could go without making a sound. You have been trained by the Royal Army for years to remain silent, vigilant, always listening and watching your surroundings for anything dangerous or out of the ordinary. You are always on guard, ready to protect Prince Loki should the need arise. Not that someone with his fighting skills or magic would need protection from a simple soldier like you. You were assigned this post purely because it was customary for each member of the royal family to have a sentry, whether they actually need one or not.

Your attention is drawn to the sound of footsteps approaching from your left. You are unable to determine how many people are coming but judging by their pace and heavy boots, they are most likely all soldiers. Commandant Thorn, the soldier in charge of your company, makes his way down the hall at a steady pace. He is followed by your captain, Captain Skye who is holding a leather bound book containing the names of all the sentries and their current posts. Trailing the two older men, are four low ranking soldiers you can't remember the names of.

The group of soldiers comes to a stop in front of you and your fellow guard and you both salute your commanding officers. "Lieutenant Y/L/N," Captain Skye says, opening his book for a moment. He closes it and looks up at you, "Prince Loki will of course be attending the Winter Solstice Ball. You will be required to escort him to the ballroom and remain on guard there until he dismisses you for the evening."

You nod in response, carefully hiding the heavy emotions you have surrounding the upcoming ball. The soldiers move on and you are left alone with the other guard again. She says nothing to you and even if you were allowed to speak, you know Sergeant Sands wouldn't talk to you. She is not your friend, none of the members of the Royal Guard are your friends. It wasn't always this way though, it is only since you were promoted to the rank of lieutenant that the guards you work with began to distance themselves from you.

You had been assigned to Prince Loki for three months when you were promoted from sergeant to lieutenant. Your fellow soldiers immediately assumed the young prince had a hand in it as he did little to hide how he favored you over the other guards who were previously assigned to him. The rumors about you spending the night in Loki's chamber instead of guarding it flowed through the palace soon after. You adamantly denied these rumors and any favoritism from the prince but it was a wasted effort. It also happened that the rumors were true to a point.

The door to Loki's office opens and you stand at attention as the court accountant exits, holding several rolls of paper and mumbling to himself. Sargeant Sands follows him without any orders needed, she is his sentry and will go where he goes. As she walks past by, she glances at you with what can only be described as a look of disgust. You look down at your boots, fully aware of what she is thinking.

You wait quietly for Loki to open the door again but you know him, he will want to read through all of his notes from today before he finalizes his meeting schedule for tomorrow. You have roughly half an hour until he will be done, half an hour to stand here and think about the dreaded Winter Solstice Ball.

Another half an hour later, as expected, Loki opens the door and walks out. Waving his hand towards the door, he uses his magic to seal the room. He smiles warmly at you and you smile back at him for the first time today. This was your favorite part, the part where the sun goes down and Loki frees you from your constant silence.

He touches your cheek softly and leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back but pull away quickly as you hear footsteps approaching. You step away from Loki and stand at attention as Prince Thor comes around a corner. You keep your eyes straight ahead but you can feel Loki stiffening next to you, he and his brother get along much better when they are at court than they do in private.

The brothers greet each other politely and you silently wish the older prince would simply continue on his way but it doesn't seem likely. Your attention shifts to the window across the hall from you again, you can just barely glimpse the sunset over the tall evergreen trees in the distance. You know Loki will tell you if he and Thor discuss anything interesting so there is no need for you to listen to their conversation. The two of them continue for several long minutes before you realize Thor has said something to you.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N?" Thor says and you shake your head as you shift your focus.

"I'm sorry your highness, I was unaware you were speaking to me," you apologize. He had never spoken to you before and you were unsure why he would start now. Loki folds his arms across his chest and you feel uneasy at how annoyed he seems.

Thor laughs which does nothing to make you feel better. "I was wondering what it was about you that made you my brother's favorite," he says. "You must truly be special, a sentry's post typically only lasts three months, perhaps six at the most. You have been with Loki for how long now?"

You think for a moment before replying. You had been assigned to Loki for only a month before he first spoke to you and you had quickly become close friends. Three months after becoming friends with the prince, you slowly became more until you were completely in love with him.

"Fourteen months," you answer him in as few words as possible.

Thor looks at his younger brother with a smirk, "Fourteen?" Loki remains silent and you can tell his older brother is not even close to letting you leave soon. He turns his attention to you again, "So is it true then?"

"Is what true your highness?" you ask quietly.

"That you follow my brother's orders when you are wearing your armor and when you are not?" he laughs and his sentry smiles then looks towards the ground. "I could use a sentry like that, I grow tired of being followed by these shadows."

Loki's fist clenches but he answers Thor calmly. "Maybe if you learned your sentries name and weren't so insufferable to be around, they would remain at your service for longer than a month at a time," Loki says. "And you are the last person I would expect to listen to palace rumors. According to the most recent ones I've heard, you've slept with nearly half of the kitchen staff this month alone."

Thor smiles, proud of himself. You and Loki realize the stories you had overheard were true, if not understated. He explains, "That is why I assume the rumors of you and your little pet are true as well."

You find yourself in that brief moment wishing Loki would confirm everyone's suspensions. Not necessarily that you were sleeping together, that you were in love and wanted to be together. You know wishing for this is as useful as wishing it would rain gold. Once again you remind yourself that this is the way it will always be, until he marries a woman of high status and you are forgotten.

Instead of responding, Loki turns from his brother and walks down the hall towards the stairwell that leads to the royal family's chambers. You follow him silently, staying a few steps behind as always.

"Come now brother, I was merely joking," Thor calls from behind you but neither of you stop walking.

The two of you continue on in silence until you reach the top of the stairs and Loki's pace slows so he is walking next to you. His hand finds yours, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles. As soon as you feel his touch, you begin to relax.

"I'm sorry about my brother," he says quietly.

"His behavior isn't your fault," you reply. "And he is far from the first person to corner me about our relationship. I am used to denying the truth."

He stops, causing you to turn back towards him, your hand still holding his. He then takes a few small steps, closing the distance between you. Loki touches your cheek gently with his other hand. "I'm sorry Y/N," he tells you again. "I wish we didn't have to hide but you know there are some rules even I cannot break so openly. Maybe I should have hid my favoritism towards you better but I couldn't bear to have you reassigned. You mean too much to me."

You smile, "So I am your favorite sentry?"

He lets out a laugh, "You are my favorite person in the nine realms." You giggle at his answer and his fingers trail down your cheek until his thumb gently runs across your lips. He leans down to kiss you but just as his lips touch yours, you feel your heart jumps in your chest.

You hear several sets of footsteps and separate yourself from Loki in an instant. He looks down the hall as his mother, two of her maids and one guard come into view. She smiles brightly at both of you as she comes closer and you bow to the queen in respect. You find it hard to miss the side eye from her sentry or the whispers shared between her maids. Loki gives his mother a hug and wishes her a goodnight. She tells him to have a goodnight as well and continues on her way.

You and Loki walk off in the opposite direction towards his chambers and once you are alone again, Loki moves to take your hand but you flinch away. He looks hurt by your momentary rejection but he doesn't say anything. He knows how nervous you are about being seen touching him or speaking to him. You round the next corner and are flooded with relief as Loki's door finally comes into view. You fight the urge to smile, holding onto your composure as you've been trained.

Loki opens the door and steps inside, you follow him as you always do and he closes the door. He flicks his wrists towards you without a word and the heavy armor you wear over your clothing instantly settles itself neatly into a large chest. You take a few deep breaths, feeling as if most of the weight you have been carrying leaves you, but not all.

"Thank you your highness," you say out of habit.

"Please, never call me that in here," he reminds you gently. "In here I'm not a prince, I'm just Loki." He walks towards you and you don't realize you are moving away from him until your back hits the door and his body comes flush to yours. One hand settles on your hip while his other hand lifts your chin, causing you to look up at him. He continues, "And you are not Lieutenant Y/L/N, you are Y/N. The woman I am so deeply in love with." He smiles and you can't help but smile back at his words. All your worries vanish the instant his lips meet yours.

You lay in Loki's arms watching the sunlight fill his room through the sheer curtains. You try to memorize the sound of his slow, steady breathing and the feel of his heart beat against your back as he holds you even in his sleep. You inhale deeply and focus on deciphering every herb and oil Loki uses to keep his hair soft. Closing your eyes, you use your senses to bring an image of Loki's face into your mind and try to hold it there.

"What are you thinking about my love?" he asks in a sleepy voice. You open your eyes and shift closer to him, pulling his arms tighter around your body. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he asks, now much more awake.

You swallow hard, trying to find the words. You had been thinking about what you needed to do most of the night but now that it was time, you weren't sure you would be able to do it.

"I've told you, you can speak freely here," he says softly, urging you gently as always to speak your mind when you were with him. His fingers move slowly up and down your arm as he tries to comfort you without knowing what is causing your distress.

"I need to transfer to a new post," you tell him. You hear him inhale sharply as his fingers suddenly go still.

You stand outside Loki's office with Thor's new guard and two others in silence waiting for a very long meeting to conclude. You stifle a yawn and shift uncomfortably on your feet before regaining your composure. The tall guard standing across from you rolls his eyes while the woman next to him mumbles something that can only be about you.

It has been two days since you told Loki you wanted to transfer and you hadn't heard anything from your commanding officer. In the meantime, you decided to go back to sleeping in your assigned room at the soldiers quarters. You had forgotten how much you hated it there. The common areas are loud and there is little privacy, everyone is in everyone else's business. You barely leave your room, which is a surprise to no one. They wouldn't speak to you even if you did. You live in a world of utter silence surrounded by never ending noise.

You feel as if you are shattering from the inside out and you try to remind yourself that it needs to be this way. The two of you hid in his chambers as if it protected your relationship but it could never be real. How could it be when he could barely acknowledge your presence when in public. He is a prince and you are a soldier as were your parents, you were not high born. Loki is destined to marry the daughter of a council member and you will guard them and their children.

The door to Loki's office opens, you and the three guards stand at attention. Prince Thor walks out first, followed by two council members. They walk off in different directions, shadowed closely by their sentries but you remain, as always, at Loki's door.

You stare at the wall in front of you for what feels like eternity. Your mind wanders between your favorite memories from your brief time with Loki and the crushing weight of your current reality. You stand up straighter when you hear the door swing open and Loki steps out.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N," he says, "I need to speak with you."

You nod and follow him into his office, closing the door behind you. You stand motionless, taking in his office and how much it feels like him. The dark wood bookshelves crowded with leather bound books, the chair pulled close to the window so he can see the garden below when drinking his afternoon tea, the green and gold accents on various pieces of furniture.

You sigh to yourself as you follow him to his desk. He takes a seat and you stand across from him with your arms behind your back, waiting for him to speak first.

"Y/N," he says informally but you don't relax. "Your transfer to a new post was not approved."

"Can I ask why your highness?" you keep the formalities as you've been trained.

"The Winter Solstice Ball is in less then a week," he answers as if you could forget. "The Royal Guard seems to be too busy tightening security and preparing for everyone's arrival to complete your paper work at this time."

"Understood, your highness," you say. "I should return to my post." You turn to head back outside of his office.

"Wait," he calls and you freeze just before you reach the door. You hear him get up from his seat and walk around the desk. "Please stay, talk to me Y/N. I miss you so much it hurts."

"I can't," you say almost in a whisper

He touches your arm and you turn to face him, seeing the pain in his eyes. "I miss the way your laughter filled my chambers. I miss hearing you hum to yourself when you think I can't hear you. I miss the sound of your voice and how easy it is to talk to you," he says and you force down a smile and the urge to hold him tightly.

"I can't bear to be without you," he tells you and you want to tell him you can't be apart from him either but you remain silent for fear you'll lose your resolve completely. He strokes your cheek gently and you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "I love you," he says.

"I love you too," you tell him, seeing a spark of hope light his eyes. You shake your head and take a step away from him, "But I can't do this. I'm sorry." Before he can say anything else you tell him, "It will only hurt more the longer we wait to end this."

"We don't have to end this, now or ever," he insists as he steps towards you. "I promise I will find a way for you to be mine, not just when we are hidden away, but always. You believe me, don't you?"

"I want to," you tell him truthfully. Loki had promised several times to find a way to marry you but you thought it was false hope. "But this isn't a fairytale my prince, we don't always get a happy ending."

You want to disappear into the marble floor, to be sucked into the wall behind you or simply vanish into thin air but you can't. Instead, you must stand perfectly still and silent as you watch the dancing and merriment around you. You momentarily wish you would go back to a time when you didn't feel an ache in your chest at the mere thought of another woman being in Prince Loki's arms. Shaking your head just slightly, you chase away the thought. As much as this hurts, you will always cherish the limited time you shared with him.

The music changes tempo as the first of seven courses comes to an end. Couples begin to take to the open floor in the center of the ballroom. Prince Thor and Prince Loki make their way to the group of single, eligible women awaiting them, each at a different pace. The older prince seems to now exactly which woman he would like to spend time with first. He offers his arm to her and declares her the most beautiful woman at the ball, causing her to blush and giggle. The younger prince takes his time walking to the crowd and simply takes the hand of the closest woman without so much as glancing at her. His lack of interest does little to dampen her excitement however.

The dozen or so women who were not chosen move away from the dance area and you have to hold back a groan as they gather directly in front of you to wait for a chance with one of the princes. You can't help but listen to them discuss which prince they think is better looking or who they would prefer picked them. The first song ends and the two princes each select another dance partner. Again, Prince Thor takes little time deciding who he wants while Prince Loki simply offers his hand to the first woman he sees. You can practically hear him sigh as she holds his arm and walks quickly to the dance floor.

As the second song begins, one of the women briefly looks at you over her shoulder before motioning towards you to her friends. Your ears go red with embarrassment as she tells them the rumors of your past relationship with Loki just loud enough that she knows you will hear. Of course she gets the ending wrong. She assumes, like everyone else, that the prince grew tired of you and banished you from his bed chambers. You had to admit, it seemed a far more likely story than the truth.

You shift your attention to the ceiling for a moment, hoping that counting the candles in the chandeliers will distract you from their stares and comments. You only count to twenty seven before the sound of a glass shattering draws your gaze back to the guests. A council member laughs loudly, clearly drunk already, as a servant cleans the wine glass from the dance floor.

Your eyes scan the room and easily find Loki at the center of the crowd, a third woman in his arms. Your drawn to his face, studying his features. He smiles at the woman as he twirls her and she giggles but she doesn't know him like you do. She doesn't know that's the smile he uses at court, not the smile he shows you. Showed you, you correct yourself. He glances away, not holding eye contact with her as they move effortlessly across the dance floor.

After the final course is served, the dance floor fills for the last time and you sigh with relief that the night is almost over. You shift on your feet, looking down for a moment when the chatter of the women in front of you begins again. Why must they stand here to wait, you think to yourself.

The princes once again make their way to their potential dance partners and Thor makes his pick quickly. Loki stands in front of the women for a moment and your eyes lock with his as he looks between them.

"Pardon me," he says politely to the crowd as he moves forward, slipping past the confused women. He makes his way towards you and your breath catches in your throat. He stands in front of you and holds out his hand. You look at him, stunned by his actions. He smiles when you don't move, "Will you dance with me, my love?" Still you remain silent, looking past Loki to see how much attention his actions have drawn. "Don't look at them," he says, touching your cheek softly as you look at him again.

You steady your nerves and place your hand in his. The moment his fingers close around yours, you are surrounded by a light cloud of green, shimmery smoke. When Loki's magic fades, you are wearing a flowing emerald green gown with golden trim, perfectly matching his dress uniform. Your hair has been restyled to hold a small gold tiara with short horns, mirroring the helmet he had worn during his entrance.

"Gods, you look gorgeous in my colors," he says with a wide smile, causing you to blush. "To be fair, you are always beautiful but now it is clear to everyone here that you are mine." You feel as if your heart might burst when he calls you his, he had said it before but only when you were hidden away.

Loki keeps his fingers interlaced with yours as he leads you to the dance floor, straight through the group of now very angry women. Some cross their arms, others give you dirty looks and several make rude comments as you pass. You pause before stepping onto the dance floor, the chatter and stares coming from the guests near you holding you back. He senses your hesitation and leans down to place a kiss gently on your cheek.

Your mind can barely begin to process what is happening as he takes you straight to the middle of the dance floor. He places one hand on your hip and you place your hand on his shoulder as you had done so many times over the last few months. You and Loki shared several secret dances in his chambers and his office, he found it difficult to listen to music sitting still.

He holds you close, his eyes never leaving yours while you dance between the other guests. You focus on how amazing it feels to be back in his arms, ignoring the strange looks and whispers that surround you. He twirls you gracefully and you spin back into him, giggling as you final feel at ease. As the song draws to a close, Loki spins you one final time. When he pulls you back to him, he leans down slightly and your lips meet his.

You smile up at him, hoping this isn't a dream when you see his mother approaching you. You take a step away from Loki but he keeps his hand on your waist, not letting you go too far. You bow to the queen and she says, "I think it is my turn to dance with my son."

You nod quickly in agreement and Loki let's go of you, his magic fading instantly as your armor reappears. You walk through the crowd with your head down and return to your post, once again wishing you were invisible. The women watch you, gossiping wildly as you pass again. You can only imagine what they are saying but they are not your biggest concern at the moment.

Anxiously, you watch Queen Frigga and her son move across the dance floor. You can't hear what they are saying of course, but you can tell by her expression that there will be consequences for his actions. As the song ends you see your captain approach you and your stomach drops. Loki will not be the only one to be punished for choosing you.

"The king had summoned you to the throne room," he says in a stern voice. You nod in acknowledgement and when you look back towards the dance floor, Loki and his mother are gone.

I'm almost done with the second part so please let me know if you would like to be tagged! I hope you liked it and if you did, please like, share and comment 💚💚

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rainybubbles · 3 months ago

Text

"Dance with me" + 141 x reader

Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Price

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

GAZ :

— Congratulations, Garrick, you whispered.

He barely heard you. Honestly, you doubted he even knew your name. Soldiers, especially those in special forces, rarely paid attention to the cooks unless they wanted an extra helping. At those times, flattery became almost a routine game.

But Kyle… Kyle had always been different.

He was the only one who gave you a genuine smile when you served him. The only one who would chat with you, arrive early to help in the kitchen, and stay late to clean up.

Kyle had been there.

In that endless cycle of meals, dawns, and dusks, he remained. So at the medal ceremony, you had hoped, just for once, to step into the light with him, to talk without the barrier of those ridiculous hairnets.

But Kyle was standing there, a companion on his arm, and suddenly, you felt utterly foolish.

Where you had hoped for a slow dance, it turned out you were just tap-dancing alone.

So, after everyone else had offered their congratulations, you added your own, feeling a wave of shame wash over you, making you sweat. That knot in your stomach tightened as the lights grew blinding, every gaze seemed to pierce through you, and everything felt absurd.

You felt absurd.

With that stupid outfit that was too tight, a tie that was too blue, shoes that were too shiny. Anxiety crept in and took hold, forcing you into an unwilling dance. Desperately, you tried to calm yourself, to find an escape, a place with fewer people. The door seemed so far away. Your vision blurred. And then…

Fresh air hit you.

Finally outside, you sat down. Everything was swirling inside you. You wanted to cry. But you couldn’t even manage that, as your boss appeared.

— The caterer is late; get in the kitchen, we can’t ruin the evening.

So you resumed your dance: uniform, hairnet, apron, safety shoes. What you thought was a duet was clearly just a solo.

Peeling carrots and chopping vegetables, you listened to the barked orders with the other kitchen staff.

The food was enough to satisfy everyone’s patience, and the caterer eventually arrived.

Alone, you scrubbed the floors.

You were the only volunteer anyway. Searching for crumbs, cockroaches, or dirt, you scrubbed until your knees ached and bled.

— Aren’t you at the party?

Kyle was there. Of course.

— I was.

— Oh, I—

— Don’t worry about it. There were a lot of people, we probably just missed each other.

A lie.

You had seen him, had even spoken to him. But to him, you hadn’t even existed.

— Yeah, I... Sorry they made you work.

— It’s fine. It’s a nice change from the usual rations.

— Yeah... I guess so.

An awkward silence fell between them, the first one they had ever shared.

— I feel like something’s off, admitted Gaz.

— Off? How do you mean?

— There’s this tension... Did I do something wrong?

No.

You knew you couldn’t blame him; it was your own fault.

— No, nothing like that... How was the party? I mean, you’ll probably get promoted soon.

— It was nice. There was even a ball.

You knew that.

You had gone there hoping for a dance.

— Really? Who did you dance with, Garrick?

— A childhood friend. I didn’t want to ask someone I didn’t know well.

Oh.

So… you weren’t even considered a friend. Just an acquaintance.

— I hope they didn’t get too bored.

— They ended up in the infirmary.

— Oh, what happened?

— I… I’m a terrible dancer, and let’s just say my weight isn’t exactly light when it lands on a foot.

— You broke their foot?

— No, it’s not—

You burst out laughing.

— Stop making fun of me, he said, though he couldn’t help but smile.

— Sorry, but you can hit targets from a distance, and three steps are too much for you?

— I’m just not good at ballroom dancing.

— So what would you have preferred? The Macarena?

— Maybe.

— I can totally picture Price doing that.

He grinned.

— But… if I had been better at dancing, I would’ve asked someone else, anyway, he admitted.

— Asked them what?

— To go with me.

— Oh.

— I just didn’t want what happened tonight to happen, and then we wouldn’t talk anymore.

— They’d be silly to let that come between you.

— You think?

— Yeah.

— So… can I assume you’re not silly?

— Why are you—

Oh.

— You wanted to invite me.

— Yeah.

— But…

— The dance was mandatory, and I didn’t want to embarrass you. I’d rather embarrass myself.

— Why didn’t you say anything…

— I didn’t have the chance.

— ...Well, I’m not sure I’m convinced. I mean… dating someone who can’t dance? you teased.

— I can do the Macarena.

— Go on, then.

And slowly, in the kitchen, with his phone blasting the tune, Kyle started dancing, and under their shared laughter, you realized this might just be the dance he preferred after all.

_______________________________

SOAP :

Soap gave you a slightly unsteady grin.

— I missed you, he murmured, his words slurred.

You shook your head, watching him struggle to redo his shoelaces with clumsy fingers.

— Johnny, you're drunk, you said, a glint of amusement in your eyes.

— Maybe… but I still missed you. Best roommate in the world.

— I'm the only one, you replied, laughing softly.

— That's why you're the best, he said, giving you a clumsy wink.

You handed him a glass of water, a gentle smile on your lips.

— Drink this, and I'll fix you something to eat.

— That’s why you're my favorite.

— How was your night? you asked as you busied yourself in the kitchen.

— L.T. dared me.

— And of course, you accepted.

— Naturally.

— And got your ass handed to you, didn't you?

— Hm, he mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

He finally managed to sit down, struggling to stay upright.

— You know… I've never seen you dance, he said suddenly.

— What? you responded, surprised by the comment.

— I've never seen you dance. It’s a shame.

— I'm not really the type to go out dancing, you know that.

— Yeah… He thought for a moment, then added, We could dance right here, right now.

— And why would we do that? you asked with a curious smile.

— Because I want to see you differently. To feel you close to me.

— Johnny, you see me every day, you said, laughing softly.

— It’s not the same. This way, I could really see your eyes up close, smell your coconut shampoo…

— You already know all that, you replied gently.

— Yeah, but living it is different. I could touch you, feel your heartbeat, your hands on me… just you and me.

You looked at him for a moment, touched by his vulnerability.

— You’re really drunk, you murmured tenderly.

— Just one dance, he insisted, almost pleading.

— One dance?

He stood up with a bit of effort, swaying slightly but determined. He reached for your hands and pulled you close. The world around them seemed to blur into a haze.

Each step was awkward, each movement hesitant, but nothing could shatter the bubble they had created. To him, this was a precious, almost sacred moment.

As his eyelids grew heavy, he let himself relax into your arms, finding a sense of peace and contentment.

They shuffled in the confined space of the kitchen, their movements creating an unsteady rhythm that was as endearing as it was clumsy. You held him close, guiding his steps with a gentle hand on his back. The light of the overhead bulb cast a soft glow, illuminating the warmth of their shared moment.

The kitchen, usually bustling with the mundane tasks of everyday life, had transformed into a quiet, intimate space where time seemed to stand still.

The clatter of pots and pans was replaced by the gentle rustle of their clothing and the soft shuffle of their feet on the tiled floor. The contrast between the chaos of the night and this tender, private dance was stark but comforting.

Soap’s head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat that mirrored your own.

There was something deeply satisfying about this moment of stillness amidst the chaos.

His breathing, slow and steady, was a soothing reminder of their connection. The way he relaxed into you, his body melting against yours, spoke volumes more than words ever could.

As they continued to sway together, you could sense the vulnerability and trust in his movements.

His occasional missteps and the way he leaned into you for support only highlighted the depth of his feelings. Despite the awkwardness, there was an undeniable grace to their dance—a testament to their bond and the quiet understanding they shared.

— You’ll dance with me again, won’t you? he murmured, half-asleep.

— We’ll see tomorrow, you whispered, guiding him gently to the couch.

He collapsed from exhaustion, instantly drifting into a deep sleep, still wrapped in the memory of their dance.

As the first light of dawn began to creep through the window, you moved about the kitchen, preparing breakfast with a newfound sense of tranquility. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the gentle sizzle of food in the pan were soothing. You stole glances at Soap, who was still deep in sleep, his breathing even and calm. There was something deeply satisfying about this morning routine, a feeling of normalcy and peace that you hadn’t realized you’d missed

The comforting aroma of breakfast filled the kitchen, mingling with the faint scent of whiskey that still clung to the air. The contrast between the warmth of the kitchen and the cold light of dawn outside created a sense of cozy isolation. You moved with practiced ease, your actions steady and deliberate, a quiet testament to the care you took in your daily routines.

Eventually, Soap stirred, his eyes fluttering open with the kind of groggy confusion that only a hangover can bring. He squinted in the light, struggling to get his bearings. When he finally registered your presence, he gave you a tired, lopsided smile.

— What I said last night… I meant it, he murmured. And this time, you can’t say I’m drunk.

— Technically…

— Technically, I’d love to kiss you and ask for another dance.

— You stepped on my feet more than twenty times last night.

— I know…

— And you reeked of whiskey.

— …

— Not to mention your snoring that kept me up all night.

— Okay, so I’m not perfect…

— But despite all that, I enjoyed our dance.

— Really?

— Even if choosing Blue Da Ba Dee for a slow dance was a terrible idea.

— That was me?!

— Yep.

— Damn… Let me make it up to you, he said, dropping to his knees in front of you.

You laughed, amused by his dramatic gesture, then knelt down in front of him, running a gentle hand through his hair.

— Alright, one more dance.

— One more dance, he repeated, a smile spreading across his face.

___________________

GHOST :

The room gradually fell into silence, despite the constant chatter of the journalists on the screen. No one was really paying attention to the news broadcast. Simon was staring at his still fresh cuts, watching the red darken to brown.

— Want to dance? he asked, finally breaking the silence.

You looked up, surprised, then let out a small laugh.

— Dance? Now?

— Yes, now.

He reached out his hand to you. You hesitated, then finally placed yours in his. Exhausted, you let yourself lean against him. Simon picked out a vinyl, and soft music filled the room as they swayed slowly from side to side. He felt your warm breath against his neck, your body seeking refuge in his arms. His hand, still trembling, held yours tightly.

— You’re stiff as a board, you murmured with a smile.

— I’m managing, he replied, slightly offended.

— It’s like you have two left feet. Relax a bit, you added, a playful grin on your lips.

Simon couldn't help but smile inwardly. He had missed that smile so much— the real one, the one that made your eyes sparkle and your dimples appear, a stark contrast to the hollow gaze he had seen recently.

— It’s all over, you whispered.

You wasn’t talking about the dance.

— Yes, it’s all over.

Neither was he.

— Will I ever be able to dance again? you asked, doubt creeping into your voice.

To love. To love again.

A few weeks ago, Simon had returned from a grueling mission, only to find your home surrounded by police. The sight of the flashing lights and the presence of uniformed officers had sent his mind spiraling into a whirlpool of fear and dread. He imagined the worst, his thoughts racing with the possibility that his desire to keep you close had ultimately endangered you. He had feared that, like so many others before you, you might have been irreparably damaged by his choices.

But…

Under the harsh, unforgiving lights of the police cars, he had found no body, no immediate evidence of a catastrophic event. Yet, when he had seen you amidst the broken glass and the wreckage of their lives, you were nothing more than a shadow of the vibrant person you once were. Your eyes were vacant, the walls bore the scars of a recent trauma, and the TV was stuck on a loop, replaying the same game over and over, as if it were mocking the endless cycle of their suffering. The word "Sorry" was scrawled repeatedly, a haunting echo of remorse and helplessness.

Simon had understood the weight of the moment. With a gentle hand, he had helped you up from the floor, guiding you through the aftermath with a steadfast determination. He had been by your side for every medical appointment, every police report, and every painful statement. His presence was a constant, unwavering support as they navigated the wreckage of their lives together. Gradually, they began to live together, two lost souls seeking something more as they danced together that night.

A home, a dream, a soul?

No, it seemed they were searching for something more elusive—a ghost of their former selves, the remnants of a life that once held promise and joy.

— I’ll be here for you, Simon said softly.

— Then you better improve your dancing, you retorted with a hint of teasing.

— I promise, he murmured.

If becoming a dance master was what it took to help you rediscover the rhythm of life, then he was willing to dance for you, over and over. For he knew that no day should be spent with a heart broken by another. As they continued to sway to the music, the simple act of dancing became a symbol of their shared commitment to healing and moving forward. It was a testament to their resilience and to the enduring hope that, despite the pain, they could still find solace and joy in each other’s arms.

______________

PRICE :

The flames in the fireplace crackled softly, casting shadows across the now-empty room. The guests had left long ago. John approached you slowly, deliberately, sliding his arms around your waist. He took a deep breath, letting your unique scent—something distinctly you—fill his senses, anchoring him in the present moment. The weariness of the past two months seemed to melt away as he embraced you. Finally, he was home.

—Something on your mind?, you asked, a hint of amusement in your familiar tone. It was a sound he had missed—something about your tone always made him feel like everything would be alright.

—I missed our date, he replied, a trace of regret in his voice.

—You've been on a mission for two months, John. I didn’t expect you to show up every Friday night for our little routines, you said, your laughter soft and genuine, like a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. The light in your eyes, though, told him that you understood more than you let on.

—I could have tried.

—And how would that go? 'Hey guys, hold on a sec, I need to leave for a romantic date with my partner?"

—I'm sure I could’ve convinced them, he said with a smirk.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head.

—Maybe, but I doubt El Sinombre would have agreed.

—Probably not, he admitted, his tone softening as he pulled you closer, But I couldn’t give you those moments that are just for us.

—John, you sent me more than enough money; don't worry about that.

—That’s not the kind of moments I meant, he said gently, his fingers tracing light circles on your arms, the touch both tender and reassuring. His caress was a silent promise of the moments yet to come.

—Oh...

—I love our dates, all those little memories. I remember the day a stray dog pushed me into a pond, or the time you ended up with cream on your nose at the restaurant, He chuckled softly, the memory of those times clearly cherished.

—And which one’s your favorite?, you asked, turning to face him.

Their faces were just inches apart, their lips almost touching, but neither gave in to the temptation. It was a game, a silent challenge.

—Our wedding day, he finally said.

—That wasn’t a date, you replied with a playful smile.

—It was, on the dance floor.

—Oh, that moment...

You remembered how John had surprised you, revealing that he had secretly taken dance lessons for months. That slow dance had transported you, as if the whole world had disappeared, leaving just the two of them, their steps perfectly in sync, their love shining like a star.

—I can’t even remember the steps, you confessed softly.

—Let me remind you, he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. The intimacy of his voice and the proximity of his body sent a shiver down your spine, making the room feel even cozier.

With infinite tenderness, he gently took your hands, his rough fingers guiding you with a careful precision that spoke of countless hours spent perfecting their dance. As he began to lead you through each step, humming the tune from their wedding, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. A tender smile lit up your face, and you looked up at him, your heart swelling with love and gratitude.

—I love you, you finally whispered.

—I love you too,he replied with a sincerity that warmed your heart.

Slowly, the lights around them seemed to dim, the room growing tranquil as the dance came to an end. They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, their hearts beating in harmony. The fire continued to crackle softly in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over them as the night settled into a peaceful calm. In that serene moment, surrounded by the remnants of their love and shared memories, they found solace in each other’s presence, cherishing the quiet beauty of their reunion.

If you want more : masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john mctavish x reader

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descendantsramblings · 3 months ago

Note

one For Maleficent x Fem!reader where the reader is maybe a goody-two-shoes like bridget who is very interested in Maleficent and in her style and just wants to befriend her, Maleficent finds it kind of Cute how the reader is so interested in her and decides to Actually approach the reader and try to mess with her but end up actually liking her

As someone who is also fascinated in how they dressed young Maleficent I’m so ecstatic to work on this :) I’m making the reader an artist and the villains (mainly Mali) her muses, I hope that’s alright. Also if this isn't what you wanted please feel free to reach out to me to retry love.

Stylized

Maleficent x Artist!Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: Artistry is the finest form of flattery, and Maleficent’s style leaves her as a hero’s newest muse.

Warnings: minor swearing, Maleficent is fully convinced that she’s being stalked, and I mean I guess in a way she is, reader is a sweetie but also a touch of a tease, she kisses Morgie’s cheek once but it’s in the way you’d kiss a toddler on the top of their head when you tell them goodnight

Word count: 2.4K

Maleficent could feel her eyes everywhere. The courtyard during lunch, in the few classes she chose to attend, in the hallways, and on occasion even at the black lagoon after school. It made her feel like she was going crazy. Before this semester, Maleficent hadn’t so much as seen the bubbly girl and now she was being haunted by her. She was everywhere, always with some Polaroid camera or a sketchbook and it was driving her mad. It wasn’t just her, it couldn’t be. She could see the way she ogled at Hook, the careful glances she threw to Hades. Even sending focused adoring eyes to Uliana. But it was like she was the only one who could feel the girl. As if she was hyper attuned to the pastel princess’s watchful eye.

And now there she was with her -well, Maleficent wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to call Morgie le Fay a friend. But he was hers, he belonged to them. Yet there he was leaning over the girl's shoulder, hands resting on either side of her looking at something. The display was too cozy in Maleficent’s eyes. His chin rested on her head, moving every so often as if he was speaking. He probably was, the boy would talk to anyone who’d listen. If she cared to move, she’d see the adoring wonder in the boy’s eyes, greedily eating up what the girl was showing him. Had Morgie gone and got himself a princess? The boy was always soft but that would be a new level. Perhaps that could explain her following them around though. Had she seen Morgie leave them to go to her instead? She couldn’t recall a time.

Slowly, as if they’d startle like strays, the pixie approaches the table. If she’s lucky she won’t attract her new found stalker’s attention. She simply had to know what the girl had Morgie so enamored with, nothing more.

“No, the way you did her eyes there,” he points at something on the page, “it’s like she’s glowing. It’s gorgeous.” “Thank you,” she looks at her watch and gasps, slamming what Maleficent could now see was some sort of notebook- a sketchbook-closed. “I have to get going, promised Bridget I’d help her with this new dandelion potion frosting she’s trying out. It’s supposed to make you have less of a center of gravity, they’re gonna be so cool,” she giggles, placing a sweet playful kiss on the villain kid’s cheek as she stands up. Briefly the girl looks over at Maleficent, looking her up and down with a smile before waving. Morgie slides out of the way, letting the princess wiggle through, her book pressed firm to her chest. “Bye, (Y/n)! Steal me a cupcake!” She giggles, turning to walk backwards for a moment so she can wink at him, “Bye Morgie. Nice to see you, Maleficent!” Nice to see her? They hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t interacted. Was every pastel princess in this school as bubbly as Bridget? Weirdo.

“Well that explains why the girl is stalking us, doesn’t it? Went and got yourself a little princess, did you? I was wondering why I’d never seen her before she started following us around, but that just might make sense. Seems you have a lot of explaining to do, le Fay,” she snatches his wrist, damn near dragging the boy, yelling at him as if she’s his disappointed mother. Wait until Uliana got a load of this, their weakest link with a princess. “What are you talking about, Mali? (Y/n) isn’t stalking us, she’s just using us for a project.” “A project?” As if that was any better to her.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Maleficent storming in with Morgie stumbling behind her was no rare sight at the Black Lagoon.Truly the boy was often in that position, if not tripping in her shadow, it was Uliana’s. Grip firm on his wrist as she swings him forward, presenting him to their fellow villains. “Well, go on then,” she prompts, poking a well manicured finger against his spine, “Tell them what you did.” It causes the rest of the room to stir, eyes falling on the boy. “It’s really not that big of a deal! I don’t understand your issue with it,” he retaliates, catching the way Uliana rolls her eyes at the duo.

“You tell them or I will.” “Fine,” he snatches his wrist away, going to sit beside Hook, “Tell them.” The boy spares him a look as he falls into the seat. Morgie shrugging to him as he leans their shoulders together. “Genius here,” she sneers, eyes squinted at the boy, “Gave some princess permission to do a whole class project on us.” Maleficent’s eyes fall on Uliana, waiting for some sort of punishment for the boy. For her to scream, kick him out, anything. Instead, the sea witch rolls her eyes, “Are you talking about (Y/n)? Yeah we knew about that.” A disgruntled huff leaves the dark pixie’s lips. “You all knew about it?” “Well, yeah. I was with Morgie when she asked. It’s a compliment. The girl would make a fabulous painter if she wasn’t so set on a fashion degree. The detail she puts into my hair when she draws me is killer.” Uliana rolls her eyes, going back to the game of Uno that a member of Hook’s crew had her previously wrapped up in.

For the briefest moment, Hook’s polishing hand stills, eyes flickering to Maleficent’s rigid frame. “If it makes you feel better, Mali, I didn’t know either. She doesn’t do my eyes too far apart, does she? The last bloke who painted me made me look like a sloth.” Morgie laughs, shaking his head. Hook goes back to his work, shaking his head as he speaks, “Then I don’t mind. I should go see the lassie’s work sometime.” Desperate for someone else to be mad with her, the girls eyes fall to Hades. An odd plea to them that makes him almost feel bad. He puts out the flame he’s playing with, crossing his arms as he looks at her with a stoic expression.

“You knew too?” “Well yeah. She sits next to me in Magical history. She’s a lot, never shuts up, but she’s one hell of an artist,” he shakes his head, “How did you two not know? She’s been following us around to paint us for weeks.” Hook laughs, “I just thought she had a little crush on one of us.” Brows crinkling he tacks on a, “Since when do you actually go to Magical History?” “We’re learning about Greek Mythology. Like hell I’d miss a chance to go to a lesson about myself. It’s a good project, it’s AP traditional art, I believe. Theme is something like ‘the greyscale of villainy’. It’s impressive.” “Yeah I don’t get that,” Morgie points a lazy finger in the air, “How is it the greyscale of villainy if she’s using color?” Hades brings a hand up to his face, rubbing over it as he sighs, “It’s like when someone says, ‘everything isn’t always black or white’ not the colors.”

“Oh so she’s saying we’re not truly evil? She’s so sugary sweet that she thinks everyone has to have some sort of goodness to them?” She’s pretty sure the words Hades says in response are some sort of Greek swears as he shakes his head. “It’s a compliment, Maleficent. You above any of us should see it that way. She’s so enamored with you and the way you dress, it’s ridiculous. The way (Y/n) draws you could start another Trojan war. She thinks you’re the coolest person at this school. Relax a little bit.” She stamps her foot, on the verge of a tantrum and turning to leave, “I never asked for that!”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It was disgusting, the way villains were falling over her. The girl was sitting with Hook leaning on her shoulder, wiping a stray smear of frosting off his lip as she showed him her work. And the adoring look on his face was disgusting, the pirate laying it on thick as he complimented her. Pointing to different things on the page with a smile. There was no way she was that good. They were evil, they were supposed to be awful to her not cooing over some prissy pink princess with paint splatters on her hands. How good could her work possibly be that she had every villain in that school falling at her feet?

Maleficent had enough of it, slamming her palms against the courtyard table to force herself up. “What, pray tell, do you think you’re doing?” Hades’ head lulls back on his neck so he can look at her as he speaks. “I’m going to go see what could possibly be so good that she has you lot falling at her feet.” As temperamental as ever she storms over to the girl and her friend, barking at Hook to move. “Now Lass, is that how we talk to our friends?” He smirks up at her, a look of adoration still hanging on his features. A vibrant flash of green lights up her eyes and he throws his arms up in surrender, no use trying to fight her. “Well, Lass,” he gets up as he speaks, smiling down at the girl, “If she gives you any trouble you just shout.” She laughs, shaking her head, “I’ll be okay, Hook, don’t you worry about me.”

Her gaze turns to the pixie, looking her up and down with a bright smile, “Hi! You look so pretty today, those tights are absolutely gorgeous.” Her eyes meet Maleficent’s again and the girl falters. “You don’t,” she raises a brow, eyes flickering between the girl and her sketchbook, “You don’t find me scary?” “Scary?” She pats the seat beside her, flicking through pages in her sketchbook as her tongue slips across her lips, “Goodness no, you’re devine. I mean the angles of your face and bangs and the way you dress are exactly why I wanted you and your friends to be the subjects of my portfolio.” She stops on a page, sliding it between them as Mali sits beside her, head tilted as she stares. “I mean, the joy on your face while Hades was speaking was so, captivating. And then your outfits, your style is just stunning. The deep rich colors and layered textures. All the chains and patterns and tights, you’re a study all on your own.” The page before her was a week worth of outfits, details perfectly done down to her last accessories. She hated how right Hades was, the way she’d drawn her was gorgeous. Potentially even prettier than she actually was. She could play with this, if the girl wants to worship her, she’d let her.

“What do you expect to gain from this?” She hums, turning to Maleficent with her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” “I mean, is this like, your version of the treats or something?” her laugh is almost musical, fitting for a princess she assumes. “Well, I’m hoping for a passing grade. If I happen to befriend anyone from it, that’s just an exciting bonus. I mean, I got Morgie but I think that’s a pretty easy thing to do.” Her eyes look over the girl with a twinkle in them. “It is, you could draw him in with a bowl of milk like a stray.” A hand finds its way on top of Maleficent’s following the arm attached she’s met with a playful smile, “What does it take to draw you in?” The smile that crosses her lips betrays her, maybe this girl wasn’t too bad. Annoying, definitely annoying, but she had a charm to her. “How about you paint me one on one? Since you seem so dedicated to the craft.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

This was ridiculous. She thought she’d be able to make the girl uncomfortable or something by just being there. The outfit she had on was nothing new to her technically, if she thought about it the page the girl had shown her earlier included every piece she was wearing. But she had more skin exposed, in her mind a girl that sweet and innocent should have squirmed at the sight. Innocent or not, the girl seemed ecstatic, saying something about getting to work more on shading skin. Instead of being uncomfortable, the artist was staring at her in adoration, giving her minor commands as she paints her. Turn your head a little more to the left. Actually can you shift right just a little bit? If you do it makes the latex on those shorts shine better. She was so dedicated, so adoring in her work. It was hard not to admire it. Maybe Uliana was right to be okay with this. Maleficent had never felt this interesting in her life. It felt as if she was the only thing in the world.

“So,” she pauses, letting out a slow breath, “You want to be a designer?” “Yeah,” she nods slightly, something the pixie only catches out of the corner of her eye. “I uh, I love the way that fabric gives itself away to art. In my heart it’s ballgowns.” Ball gowns huh? Then what was the appeal of her? “Shouldn’t your project focus on princesses then?” She tuts, leaning down to grab more purple paint from the cart on her side. “No, they all wear the same things. That’s your appeal, the clashing fabrics and richer colors, you stand out. I like that, I want to take things like that into account in my work.” It earns her a giggle, when was the last time Maleficent had genuinely giggled? “So like, a leather ball gown? Interesting sight.” “No, but come on, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be excited by a ball gown that fits a style as interesting as yours existing? Even villains like feeling pretty, don’t they?”

If she thought about it too much, the pixie knew that’s the real reason she was here. The way the princess looked at her was precious, silly of course. But, it made her feel pretty. The way she was painted made her feel stunning. And she hoped that the warmth she could feel in her cheeks wasn’t visible. “Is it almost done? I want to see it.” “Really? Hook said you hated the idea of my portfolio.” Damnit Hook. “Yeah well,” her words fall flat, waving her hand around in the air. “Well?” “Well, maybe I changed my mind. Am I not allowed to do that?” She laughs, getting up and turning the canvas around, “Are you saying I’m winning you over, Maleficent?” Her eyes drink in the canvas, the woman who looked back at her was stunning. Surely it was supposed to be her but something about her was prettier. It was like she’d been painted into a god. Where did she learn to paint like that? “I’m saying there’s potential there. You have charisma.” She giggle, placing the canvas down before walking over to the pixie. Her finger tapping the tip of her pale nose with a smile as she watches the blush on the girl’s cheeks darken. “Whatever you say, gorgeous. But if you ask me, it surely looks like you’re starting to like me just as much as Morgie does.” “Do not push your luck, Princess.”

#descendants #descendants imagines #descendants rise of red #descendants fanfiction #maleficent descendants #maleficent x reader #descendants x reader

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kooberryfields4ever · 11 months ago

Text

releasing a little earlier than anticipated cos it’s 4:30am and i can’t sleep cos i’m busy thinking abt jay ….. i was sooo excited to work on this one icl😭😭 jay nsfw alphabet will be a ride (literally) 🙏 jake up next and then enha hyung line is finished nd i’ll probs start teasing fics/drabbles …. & i’ll probs release ones for jk/soobieboobie too so if ur interested in them pls look out🥺

content warning : nsfw below the cut, dom/sub vibes, ddlg, breeding, spanking/bdsm (minor) etc etc

MDNI !

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jay is a very attentive and romantically in-tune guy !!! despite how rough he likes to be with ur body he’ll always make sure ur perfectly looked after when he’s done using u

and boy will he use u…… like aftercare is very much necessary….. more on that later :3

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

fingers………… guitarist…… need i elaborate???

and he’s so good with them too like to the point where some nights u beg him to just use his fingers to get u off

his favourite body part of urs is ur ass :3

just loves seeing how red it gets when he spanks u to tears

the way it jiggles after he slaps it n it just feels so good to play with it n grab it n spread it so he can get a perfect view of ur holes all creamy for him :((

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

very clean abt it, likes using condoms so he can throw away what’s necessary and there’s less to clean up

but on the off chance that he’s feeling particularly primal :))

expect to be fucked absolutely to the brim w his cum :))

like i’m talking no holding back full breeding kink jongseong mode, wants to see u full enough to carry a baby even tho ur on the pill nd the chances r so low <;/3

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

has maybe thought abt babytrapping u once or twice😄😄 he can’t help it :(( the thought of u with a beautiful round belly and swollen tits makes his mouth water :(( just wants u bred so perfectly, wants to make u a mummy so bad…..

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think jay is one of those naturally gifted sex havers

like i don’t think he watches porn much and like everyone else i’ve spoken abt i think it’s too early into their career and they’re too busy to experience much in their own schedules

but he just gets it,,,,,, like he knows his own vibes and he knows what he’s into and he’s VERY in tune with his partners

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

reverse cowgirl :3

loves to see that fat ass bounce while he fucks u from below….

gives him a god opportunity to pull u back against his chest n wrap his fingers around ur throat too

drives him crazy seeing u get lightheaded while he pounds into ur pussy

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

defos a more serious lover but not in a sunghoon way, more intimidating….

i just see him getting rly turned on when u listen to his instructions and take what he says seriously outside of sex, so i feel like it would apply during as well

but not necessarily always serious

like there are days he feels less dom and just wants to fuck his girl nice and slow, feel u squeeze around him, that’s when he’ll be open to a few giggles and having fun

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

in between hoon and heeseung methinks

like not fully shaven but def trims shorter and more regularly than hee

feels more masculine with hair nd kind of likes when he sees ur nose buried in his bush when u give him head

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s very romantic <3

sex is passion and love and seduction and jay wants to make sure that even when he’s being rough and a little bit mean u know he loves u beyond what he could possibly articulate

so yeah expect candles and roses and slow sensual music while he drives himself deep into ur cunt

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

likes to have a wank every now and again, for his health x

not shy to call u up or text u (sext u) when he wants to get off and ur not around

just be prepared for videos of him jerking it from start to finish where all u can hear is the slickness of his cock in his hand and his quick breaths while he tells u how bad he misses that cunt of urs, wants to fuck his cute little girl so bad….

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

don’t shoot me

a little bit of ddlg

discovered it one night randomly when u guys were discussing ur future and having children and u referred to him as “a daddy” offhandedly

made his cock instantly hard, he just knew that second he had to fuck u and fill u with his cum and get u to call him daddy again the whole night like a good little girl

also think he’d be major into giving praise, not much of a degrader but if ur being a stubborn little girl don’t expect him to be nice about it….

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

bed.

yawnnnnn kooberry will u ever say anything different

no >:( enha hyung line to me (minus jake) want to share their intimacy with nothing but the bedroom !!!!!

like why fuck u anywhere but in his bed where he knows nobody else can see his little girl while he pounds into her tight pussy and works her clit until she’s cumming around his cock again and again :((

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when ur being rly attentive and good for him, like without realising

like if he tells u to get something from the fridge for him and u do it without question…..

takes all of his willpower to not stop cooking and bend u over the kitchen counter to stuff u full of his fingers nd praise u for being such a good girl for daddy :3

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

probably heavy degradation, calling u a slut, whore etc

i think the worst he’d say is “stop being such a fucking brat” nd that’s if ur testing his patience like pushing his buttons to no end (which he enjoys sometimes)

would also probably start fucking u harder and faster in apology while spanking ur ass beet red for being a brat

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers giving. loves treating u good and making sure ur looked after before him

it’s not sex with jeongseong if u havent orgasmed at least once before he fucks u

maybe even twice

likes receiving too, loves when u relax ur throat around him and let him use his hands to guide u nd fuck ur throat a little

especially when u gag a little omfg. drives him crazy with need like …. ur letting him use ur mouth soooo well like a good girl

defos still more of a giver

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and VERY rough

like shoving ur face into the pillow to get u to shut the fuck up while he pounds into u kind of rough

can’t have anyone else hear how good his little girl takes his cock can he ???? then he’d rly have to punish u

flips u onto ur back so he can pin ur legs against the side of ur head and shove himself deeper and deeper while sucking on ur nipples and rubbing ur clit aggressively

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he would, by this point he’s an expert with ur pussy and knows he can make u cum easily if ur both needy but on a time crunch

like i can picture him shoving u into the supply cupboard at mubank before prerecording and pressing u against the wall…. has to apologise over and over again for the stretch cos he can’t open u up properly rn but it’s okay cos ur already so wet he can just slide right in anyway :(( and then his fingers are already at ur clit or tweaking ur nipples so u cum first <3 nd he can get u on ur knees and shove his length down ur throat until he finishes with no mess :3

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

sure, risk is a part of the fun ;)

would gladly take u in semi-public places like a fitting room or an unlocked dressing room bc it turns him on thinking about the ways he can get u to shut the fuck up

like how deep can he fuck u while ur mouth is gagged with ur panties ?? the answer is VERY

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

honestly takes him a long time to cum so i don’t necessarily see him wanting to go multiple rounds when ur always so spent after the first from how long he plays with u and fucks u

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

owns them for u and u only

stuff like a small paddle or different vibrator wands cos sometimes he wants to try something new and get u to cum harder, like a challenge to himself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

teases when he feels like a) u need punishment, or b) he’s feeling like a bit of a dickhead

likes to thrust his raw dick up and down ur wet folds while he opens up the condom wrapper, just to hear u beg a little

but if u beg hard enough (and call him daddy) he’ll forget the condom all together and just slide into u raw nd give his little girl exactly what she needs :((

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

rly low grunts

i just don’t think he’s very vocal otherwise, maybe when he’s praising u or telling u how bratty ur being

but otherwise it’s just his deep sexy grunts

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

u nd him r cooking in the kitchen when his phone rings…. his hands r all messy so he asks u to go answer it and of course like the good girl u are, u obey immediately :3 nd u look so cute when u answer, covering the microphone to whisper “it’s jake” to him, that he can’t help but rinse off his fingers immediately and pin u to the wall……. n he’s being so dirty :(( and unfair :(((( and whispering shit in ur ear like “daddy’s good girl, answering the phone for me, ur not gonna let him hear u now tho are u??” while u try to hold back moans n he shoves his fingers past ur waistband :(((

and jake’s just as confused !!!!! “y/n??? u good??? where’s jay??” he questions while jay plays with ur pussy and kisses at ur neck, telling u to answer

he’s so mean :((( u just have to tell jake to call back later he’s too busy!!!!! hanging up and tossing the phone to the side so jay can finish u off ^_^

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

slightly above average length, not too girthy

made to shove himself deep and fill u up just enough to beg for more :3

circumcised !

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty average, needs to fuck u at least once a week if he can

can do without for a while but just be careful when ur back around him bc there’ll be some subconscious pent up energy there….

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i think he falls asleep quite easily after sex

likes to clean u up and give u a massage and some food n drink but as soon as he’s done all that and cuddled up next to u he’s out like a light

#koob navi #jay hard hours #jay hard thoughts #jongseong hard hours #jay smut #jongseong smut #jongseong x reader #jay x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jay x y/n

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