#thank FUCKING god for that. the situation was getting dire

[mrsmarlasinger]

Wish I liked that system I met at the gay club but unfortunately I only like the host cuz all her alters are annoying and rude 😔😔

[empresskylo]

──★ price gets hurt on a mission and you have to help bandage him up whilst he tries not to pass out from blood loss. ⋅ㅤㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤ⋆ㅤㅤㅤ♡

price x gn!reader 𓂅⭒ based on this post

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered nervously under your breath as you stumbled into the abandoned bathroom with your Captain.

Price grunted, collapsing to the floor, tugging you with him, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder. 

You tried to be careful, avoiding his bullet wound the best you could. The faint echo of commotion slipped into the room. You stood up and slammed the bathroom door closed, locking it. You took a breath and turned back to face Price. He leaned against the tub, furiously trying to remove his gear and get to the bullet wound. 

You knew the rest of the house you were now stationed in was empty, dead bodies strewn along the halls. 

“Price?” Ghost’s guttural voice sang in through the comms.

“Decommissioned, at the moment,” you spoke.

“I’m comin’ your way,” Ghost said reassuringly. 

Now you only had to keep Price alive until Ghost got here. “Okay. Okay,” you tried to prepare yourself. You weren’t a medic, but Price was bleeding out all over the bathroom floor.

You crouched down before him. He grunted frustrated, his vest getting stuck, his eyes wincing as he tried to remove it.

“Let me help,” you mumbled before you reached out and assisted Price in removing his vest. Then his jacket.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growled when he looked down and saw his shirt absolutely soaked in red. 

His head lulled up to you, his eyes piercing your own rounded ones. “Gotta stop this bleedin’. Now,” he commanded, his speech slightly slurred. 

Oh, god, you thought to yourself. He was losing too much blood.

You threw your pack off your shoulder and ripped off your gloves. You dug through your bag as Price took off his remaining item of clothing covering his torso. You didn’t expect your face to heat so much when you looked up at his exposed chest. If the situation wasn’t so dire, you might have been thankful for Price’s blurriness, not being able to even process the fact that you were suddenly flustered. 

You took out the gauze and held it to the wound, making Price hiss. 

He shifted his hips, trying to move through the pain, his eyes looking down at your hand holding pressure to the opening in his lower abdomen. 

It looked like a fucking horror scene in here, blooding soaking the dirty tiles, Price’s chest red, your hands looking like they were dipped in red paint. 

“Don’t worry, Captain. I can fix this.” You weren’t positive you could, but maybe if you told yourself you could…

You used one hand to reach behind you and grab tweezers and stitching glue. You were going to need to remove the bullet, then seal the opening, stopping the bleeding. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it’d get the job done till Price could be seen by a real medic back at base.

You were so focused on Price’s wound that you hadn’t noticed his eyes fluttering open and closed. The blood loss was making him delirious.  

Your head was close to his, your attention on your hands fast at work. Price breathed in, the pain of you sifting around for the bullet no longer felt. 

“Hair smells s’good,” he cooed. 

You almost didn’t hear him.

“Lavender,” he smiled, humming in his throat.

You swallowed, almost jumping out of your skin when you felt his fingers glide into your hair. He pulled tendrils toward him, twisting it between his fingers and marveling at it through half-laden eyes. 

“S’ pretty,” he crooned.

You swallowed roughly, your face definitely showing your embarrassment, trying not to think about Price’s hand in your hair. You needed to focus. Your fingers dug for the bullet.

“Mmm,” he whined, his eyes wincing, his hand still lost in your exposed hair. “Fuckin’ torturin’ me, love.” 

You grimaced, sparing him a glance. “It hurts that much?” You suddenly felt bad. Guilty, even though you were only trying to save him. 

A faint rumble escaped his mouth. “Went numb a good two minutes ago,” he said through soft breaths. “S’not the pain that’s botherin’ me.”

Your eyes blinked rapidly as you glued up the wound, the bullet now tucked into your palm. You tried to ignore him, not thinking about the implication of his obviously impaired speech.

You sat back and caught your breath, the wound on Price’s abdomen now taped and bandaged, ready for transportation back to base. 

When you finally locked eyes with Price, you expected him to be smiling, to tell you he was just teasing. But instead, when your face met his across the small distance separating the two of you, his back slouched lazily against the tub, he was breathing heavily. A spark of panic whirled through you. 

“Captain…” you said desperately, worried he was going into shock. You slid back to your knees before him and his hand grabbed the side of your face, pulling you dangerously close to his own, yelping in surprise. You were amazed at the strength he still had left.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he cursed, his eyes flashing to your lips. 

“Y-you’re not thinking straight,” you whispered.

His thumb stroked softly against your lower lip before he looked away and let his hands fall languidly on his lap. You opened your mouth to speak, when Ghost busted through the door. “How the fuck—“ you cursed loudly, shocked that Ghost could kick down a locked door in one go. 

“Shit,” Ghost spoke. He mumbled over the comms before slinging his gun over his back. “Let’s getcha back t’base, Cap.”

cod masterlist

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

bucky x reader

the one where you get locked out and go a-knocking on your sworn enemy's door in the middle of the night

౨ৎ

"Fuck!" You yelled, for what seemed like the millionth time that night. You should've listened to Wanda and stayed home instead of going to that stupid bar with that guy. Now, you were locked out of your house because you brilliantly left your keys in his car, and he left you when he said he was going to the bathroom.

You'd been out here for a half hour now doing everything you could to get in your house. You tried to pick the lock, break open a window with a rock, everything. You even walked around back and found a half-open window. You had never been more grateful for your forgetfulness. The only problem was that the window was on the second floor, a full twenty feet above where you stood.

It seemed your only option was to ask for help. All you needed was a ladder to climb up to that window, and everything would be just dandy. Sighing you tried to remember who in your neighborhood was actually home, and who'd let you in at- what time was it anyway?

10:45 P.M. Not bad. Nat and Steve were on vacation. Wanda wasn't here. Sam was away on work.

Shit.

The harsh realization struck you square in the chest. Bucky. The man next door. He was your only option in this dire situation. You hated to think of it, but he was your only acquaintance on this street, if you could even call him that.

You stomped over to his house, your very uncomfortably high heels getting sucked into the mud in his garden.

You made it to his door, steeling yourself to knock.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your knuckles rapped heavily on the door.

You stood there a minute, and when he didn't appear, you turned around, ready to walk away. He was probably sleeping, there was no use knocking anyway. Maybe you could just camp outside on your porch and wait for Wanda to get back.

Before you got very far, his deep rasp stopped you in your tracks. "Doll? What the hell are you doing here?" Bucky stood at the door, in all his bleary-eyed glory.

You considered bolting to save yourself the embarrassment.

No, you scolded yourself. You had already disturbed him, so the very least you could do was not stand there like a fool and instead, tell him about your troubles. It couldn't make him hate you any more than he already did.

"Doll?"

You turned around and gave him a small wave.

"Jesus-the hell happened to you? You look awful." You missed the concern in his eyes, only seeing the way they flicked down your body. You were suddenly embarrassed of the sequined dress you had chosen for the night. Not exactly something you wanted your most-hated coworker to see you in.

"Well, thanks," you rolled your eyes. "I- you know if you're just gonna stand there and tell me how bad I look, then forget it." You started to walk away.

"I wasn't- doll, wait. Why'd ya come?" He sounded earnest, almost concerned as he reached out for your wrist and gently grabbed hold of it.

"I- I need your help with something."

"With what?"

"I need help getting inside my house," you whispered, eyes cast downward from the shame that now consumed you.

God, how pathetic was this? Not only did you do the most idiotic thing you possibly could have in your entire adult life, but you went to Bucky of all people for help.

"With what? I can't hear you, c'mon speak up," his tone was commanding, and he sounded slightly irritated. His forehead crinkled, eyebrows scrunching down till his eyes were two thin slits, the blue orbs almost completely disappearing. Great, he was making you say it again.

You lifted your head up, staring into his eyes. The worst of it was over, you had come to Barnes. You spoke clearly, trying not to cringe at how stupid your situation sounded, "I need help getting into my house. Do you have a ladder or something?"

"The hell happened to your keys?"

"D-does it matter?!" You cried, exasperated.

"I- no, no, just come in, it's freezing out here and you look half-dead. And half-naked. Jesus, doll, do you not own anything warm?" Again with the insults. If you weren't desperate you would've showed him what half-dead really looked like.

You walked in after him, and were immediately struck with the realization that you had never been inside his house. And well, it looked...nice. Nicer than you expected for an old grouch like him. Huge murals filled two of the foyer walls, and everything was in pleasant, muted autumnal colors that somehow made him seem almost human.

"So where's the ladd...," you trailed off, realizing he was no longer in sight. Just great, he had left you by yourself immediately after inviting you in.

By this point, you were freezing in your mini dress, and all you really wanted was to just wipe off all your makeup and curl up into a ball of oblivion. Unsure if you were welcome to take a seat while you waited, you stood awkwardly in his foyer, shivering slightly because, of course, he had the thermostat turned all the way down.

"Here," Bucky reappeared suddenly, handing you a soft blanket and pillow.

"W-wait I don't need a place to sleep just the-"

"Look, doll, it's now 11:00 and it's freezing out. Quite frankly, you're insane if you think I'm gonna let you go out there with a ladder to climb into your side window. So, just please shut up, go to the bathroom do whatever you need to do, put on the change of clothes I left you and just go. to. sleep."

Wait change of clothes? Wouldn't they be...his clothes? Why was he being so nice to you, and more concerningly, why did that make you feel warm inside??

"I- okay, thank you," you didn't know what else to say.

Why was he being so nice to you? Where was the Barnes that was condescending? The one that was annoyed by every little thing you did and hated your entire existence?

He led you upstairs to his bathroom where you wiped off your makeup and splashed some water on your face.

Walking out to his bedroom, you found the clothes he laid out for you. An oversized T-shirt you guessed was too small for him and gray sweatpants. They were huge, but oh so soft. They also smelled like him, woodsy with a hint of...was that sandalwood?

You put on his clothes, instantly engulfed in the fabric. You walked downstairs with the blanket and pillow in hand, finding the couch easily enough.

"What're you doing?" Bucky asked, walking into the living room with a mug.

"Going to sleep?" You frowned up at him as you started to position the pillow to your liking.

"I- Jesus, doll, there's an entire bed up there. The hell do you mean you're sleepin' on the couch?"

"It's your house, I'm not taking your bed away too!"

"You're not taking the bed away, just go lie down."

"No, I'll sleep on the couch, it's fine."

"Why are you being stubborn? I'm offering you the bed."

"And I'm declining." You crossed your arms without realizing that you were mirroring the pose he held.

He sighed heavily before asking, "Why don't we both take the bed then, will that make ya feel better?" He sounded as exasperated as you felt and before you knew it, he was ushering you upstairs, grabbing the pillow and blanket he provided you with earlier.

You entered his room and laid down on opposite sides of the bed, which was warm, and so soft. Of course, it smelled like him too. You made a mental note to ask him about his mattress later to get yourself the same one.

"So, uh, how'd you get locked out?" Bucky asked awkwardly, cringing at his attempt to break the silence.

"I left my keys in this guy's car."

"So you didn't ask him for them back?" You felt him turn his head to face you, but you remained staring at the ceiling.

"He drove away before I realized, so yeah."

"Oh, what an ass," he growled.

"Got that right," you chuckled. Then, you stopped yourself. Why did he genuinely sound upset? Was he being protective? No, that was silly. He could care less about you.

You swallowed, turning to face him, welcomed by the sight of his pretty blue eyes and the smirk that would forever adorn his lips.

"Why'd you let me stay?" You finally asked, voicing the question that lingered in your mind.

"Because you'd freeze if you slept out there," he stated plainly.

"Thought you'd enjoy it if that happened," you chortled.

"Eh well- I wouldn't be happy about it. Besides I didn't need that weighing on my conscious all night."

"Mhm," you smiled at him.

"So, what if I told you that I make great pancakes," he scooted closer.

"I would say I'd love some," you said, scooting a bit closer as well. "On one condition."

"What?" You felt his hand rest on your arm, and you let it stay there.

Before you knew it, you were blurting, "Stay here and hold me?"

"Course doll, c'mere."

You snuggled your way up to his chest and felt loving hands run up and down your arms, which then snaked their way down to your waist. He buried his head in your neck, inviting you to rest yours on his chest.

"G'night Bucky."

"G'night doll, sleep well."

You felt a feather-light kiss being pressed to your temple, not quite sure if you had dreamed it all up. In the morning, however, you were greeted with a stack of pancakes in bed...

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 1 - Where Winning Looks Like Losing

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: This is story non-canon compliant, with the two main differences being; 1) Butcher doesn't have brain cancer, because I said so. 2) All of Gen V didn't take place, because I don't want to deal with the whole supe-plauge thing. Also that's too many characters to keep track of squad. Because of this, the story will start in a similar setting as s4e5, but with different events leading up to it, and will deal with similar themes and have similar events to the rest of s4, but at an inconsistent rate. If you have any questions about other, smaller changes I have made, feel free to ask! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: See the Masterlist for Summary. Contains usual tags.

Chapter title is from Growing Up by Fall Out Boy.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff.

Read on A03!

Chapter 2

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

You were not, and never had been, in the business of fighting your wars bloody. You fought them smart, and you fought them dirty. You wouldn’t call yourself callous; if anything, you could use a little more misanthropy in your life, but your moral compass was… subjective. You would steal bread to feed your family, you would cheat if you knew you wouldn’t get caught, and, as you had spent the last six months learning, you would quickly cover your hands in all the blood and grime in the world so that nobody else would have to.

Which was, unfortunately, not a figure of speech.

You let yourself lie in the mud, the cool texture soothing your always-warm skin, and fought the urge to sleep. You could hear someone shouting your name, strung together with an impressive array of obscenities and barely audible over whatever phase of the argument your companions were on, but god, you just could not bring yourself to give a fuck. Sure, the blood on your face was already dry, and the hay mixed into the mud itched and needled at your skin, but you’d live. You’d survived much worse, and at this point it was scientifically impossible for you to get sick, so everyone could just come back for you in a week or two. Maybe three. However long it took for the nightmare sheep to die and Vought’s stock prices to be lower in the mud than where you lay. Maybe a bit longer. Maybe until Homelander wasn’t a you problem anymore. Maybe they’d feed his corpse to the nightmare sheep when they came to get you.

You felt yourself smile a little at that thought. Dead Homelander, weak and pathetic; golden hair grimy; awful blue eyes milky and hollow. Dead Homelander, hands unable to hurt you, mouth unable to twist into that horrific smile. Dead Homelander, pretty face mauled and stupid outfit smelling like shit from being dragged in it to the barn. Dead Homelander, being torn to tiny pieces and eaten by sheep. Dead Homelander, the worst thing that ever happened to you, finishing his reign of terror shat out next to a creek somewhere.

Your smile covered your whole face at this point. It probably looked weird and creepy—the dire, life-or-death situation you were smack dab in the middle of not doing it any favors—but god, it was too perfect a daydream. You could live here forever, in the mud, with your fucked-up little fantasy on loop.

Tragically, you barely had twenty seconds in this ideal world when something hit you in the face.

“What the fuck?!" You sat up, ignoring the hand offering aid from Frenchie, glaring around the barn for your assailant.

“Bout time you join the land of the living, Love. We’ve got a fucking problem, and you don’t get to nap until it’s fixed.” Across the barn, Billy Butcher shot you a cocky grin that didn’t meet his eyes. To be fair, you weren’t sure it ever did.

“You didn’t have to hit me in the face, you ass.”

“That was me,” Frenchie cut in. “And you should thank me; Monsieur Butcher was going to shoot you.”

“You were going to shoot me?!”

“Would’ve felt the same either way, wouldn’t it?” Butcher shrugged.

“No! I’m not bulletproof, you dick!”

“You’d live.”

“So would MM if you shot him! I don’t see you gearing up for that!”

“Well, MM wasn’t sleeping in the middle of a crisis!”

You rolled your eyes, meeting Butcher’s glare from across the room. "Oh, please, you just wanted an excuse to try and kill me!”

“If I wanted to kill you, Sweetheart, it’d look more like this.” Butcher’s arms started to move behind him, where you knew he kept his gun, and you braced yourself, hands fisted at your side.

“Hey!” MM stepped forward, arms raised. “You, if you shoot anyone, I will throw you out to the sheep, I swear to God. And you,” he turned his gaze from Butcher, “turn it down; it’s the middle of winter in Maine, and I feel like I’m standing in the goddamn sun.”

You blinked, realizing that the room had rapidly become impossibly hot, and everyone had moved far as possible from where you stood. The new, alien feeling that sat under your skin was alight and sharp, almost buzzing through you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, stepping back. MM lowered his arms, a look of what might have been concern flashing across his face, but turned away as the conversation returned to the murder-sheep issue.

You took a few steps back; nobody stopping you or asking for your contribution, fully allowing you to shrink into the wall. You felt your hand move up to your throat, trying to slow the tense, short breaths passing in and out of your body.

“Try thinking of something that calmed you down before.”

You jumped, not having noticed Victoria Neuman move to your side, and gave her a small frown as you responded. “What?”

“Something familiar. Anything that takes the edge off. Trust me,” she gave you a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. It won’t get easier on its own. And that,“ she gestured to your hand. “Won’t help it long-term.”

You nodded slowly, forcing yourself to drag your hand from your throat. Something happy. Something happy from before. What had been happy before?

Briefly, city lights flashed in your head, a song on a stereo accompanied by your own hum ringing silently in your ears. It vanished just as fast, but something in your chest loosened, and the feeling waned. Glancing over at Neuman, you saw a small nod of approval before she left your side, allowing you a second to steel yourself before following.

You found yourself standing next to Annie, who gave you a quick and, as far as you could tell, genuine smile before returning her attention to the tense conversation between Butcher and Stan Edgar. The former's voice had grown to a shout, somewhat ranting about a goose-chase for the bioweapon supposedly on this farm, the latter just watching with a cold, indifferent gaze.

“Are you done, Mr. Butcher?” Edgar’s voice betrayed no anger or fear; the only signs of emotion on his face his tightened lips and raised brows. “Because if you are, I would finally be able to share my plan to get us out of this hellhole you dug us.”

Butcher scoffed, but before he could call Edgar either a cunt or a twat—both seemed equally plausible at the moment—the stone-faced man continued.

“While I will be the first to admit that an error was made in regards to a possible weapon against Homelander, I could not call today a complete waste. After all, you introduced me to this… charming young woman. The Anomaly,” he turned to you, and a shiver ran up your spine as he used your supe name. “Is going to help us.”

“Uh,” you paled under the pressing eyes of your team. “No. I don’t, uh, I… no.”

“Yes. You will,” Edgar said. “The V variant you carry is Homelander’s attempt to duplicate the original, the one used on Soldier Boy. Most likely a good attempt. And though the original V was unstable and less than suitable in any practical means, it was potent. I do not think I would be wrong in guessing you are just as strong as Soldier Boy, and likely immortal as well.”

“No.” Annie cut it in. “If you’re going to suggest we use her as fucking bait, the answer is no.”

“I was not going to suggest that, Ms. January, why would I waste such a good product on sheep bait? I am proposing that she simply eliminate our issue. I hear sheep catch fire quite easily.”

Everyone was looking at you now. Waiting for you to step forward and say something, anything. But you were frozen, mouth slightly agape, a million scenarios playing out in your head. You saying yes, and failing to do anything but start a forest fire, the barn burning around you as everyone remained trapped inside. You saying no, and the sheep breaking in and eating everyone alive. You saying yes, but losing control and hitting someone, watching them burn to ash as they screamed. You saying no, and everyone just rotting away in the barn; you yourself unable to do the same. The silence hung in the room, taunt with the way breathing had become labored in your chest, and you thanked a god you didn’t believe in as Annie stepped forward.

“She can’t control it,” she told Edgar. “We’ve been working on it for months, and she’s gotten better, but she can’t. It’s more complicated than it usually is, and it’s new.”

“Well, then I guess we should start to pray she gets lucky. I simply will not die in a barn in Maine, and unless anyone else has a plan, I must insist we start moving. Before the structural integrity fails us, and we all become dinner.”

The room was quiet for another moment, Annie looking as if she wanted to argue, but MM spoke first, his voice laced with reluctance.

“He’s right. We don’t have time to come up with something better.” He sighed, turning to you. “You’re the best bet we’ve got.”

“Still a shit bet,” Butcher muttered.

You agreed.

But Edgar was right.

“Everyone will need to stay inside,” you said softly. “Even if it works, this could get… messy.”

Murmurs of agreement were made, and you turned to Kimiko. “You’re the strongest,” you told her. “You can open and close the door the fastest. Crack it open, I’ll run through, and slam it as fast as you fucking can.”

She nodded, moving to the barn's entrance. As she passed you, she paused, giving your arm a small squeeze and you a small smile before she continued. You smiled back, trying to ignore the flash of her anxiety running through you at the touch. Everyone else began to move to the opposite side, hiding pointlessly behind hay and barrels. Neuman paused, though, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“Something calm,” was all she said before turning to follow Edgar.

Something calm.

City lights. Music. Cheap burgers and cheaper beer. Carefree smiles. Music.

You stood before the doors, giving Kimiko a small thumbs up. She raised her hand, fingers falling from five to four, from four to three.

Two.

One.

You sprinted forward, waited for the sound of a slam behind you, and let go.

The world lit up.

It felt like a hurricane was spilling out of you, like a part of you was being ripped out and launched away. You could see the fire, but not quite feel it. If anything a chill had set itself through your veins, your skin becoming flushed not from heat, but exhaustion. Already darkness was creeping into your eyes, the effort to control the flames splitting the sky taking a toll. It was like a volcano trying to control its eruption, if any of its magma was under the control of the mountain.

But you had to. You could pass out after; you could sleep for a hundred years, but right now you had to control it.

The blood and muck on your skin had been long seared off, the clothes on your back turning into foul-smelling smoke. Your job was long finished now, nothing but bone and sinew remaining of the sheep, but a new problem emerged.

You couldn’t stop. You were burning and burning and burning, and the feeling in your skin wasn’t dulling, but growing. The exhaustion was gone, replaced by pure adrenaline, yanking you up and up, away from relief.

Something calm, Neuman’s voice echoed in your head, and you closed your eyes, trying to hear that long-gone music and see those phantom lights.

It wasn’t working. And you were only getting closer to an edge, a drop into something you’d been so careful to avoid. It was eating you, pushing you further and further. You'd jump into the freezing water of the river but it would just evaporate. You’d bury yourself in the mud but it would just boil, feeding into itself.

Sing, a small part of you begged the rest. Just sing. No use hiding yourself if you’re dead.

You gave in, and began to hum. An empty tune, your voice on key but strained. Slowly, you felt yourself come to, your body returning to your control. You followed the song to the end, and as it ended, just before you collapsed on the ground, relief rushed through you. The fire had lingered, a saving grace from your song. You hadn’t felt any effects, with no hallucinations plaguing your vision before it went dark.

————

The first thing you realized when you woke up was that someone had moved you from the dirt to rest against a tree. The second was that you were no longer naked. Someone had apparently managed to find you clothes, and though they were itchy and a few sizes too big, you were still grateful. The third was that you smelled like shit. You had thought you were covered in blood before, but that now seemed as if it had been bubbles and floral perfume. One might have thought thoroughly barbecued sheep would’ve smelled at least tolerable. They would’ve been wrong. Because you were covered in what of it hadn’t dissipated into smoke, and you smelled like a dumpster full of rubber and fish.

The only person who would come near you was Frenchie, who had forsaken his sense of smell years ago, and had evidently dressed you and pulled you to where you currently sat. Everyone else stood closer to the fence, waiting for their ride back to New York to pull up on the dirt road. You sat alone, eyes still drooping, startled out of your own head as Edgar’s voice cut through the air.

“I must say, I am glad to see my faith in you was not misplaced.”

"Yeah, well,” you shrugged, looking up at where he stood, only a few feet away. “I wouldn’t ask for an encore.”

“I am afraid I may have to. In our prior introduction, it seems you deeply undersold your capabilities.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t have time for self-evaluation when I was being kept in a fucking dungeon.”

Edgar sighed. “I must apologize for that. Though I was not made aware of Homelander’s little escapade, I recognize that you might feel as though I hold some blame.”

“Not an apology,” you muttered. “And I find that hard to believe.”

“Unfortunate, but I cannot force you to accept the truth.” He looked you up and down once before continuing. “And regardless, it is not what I am here to say.”

“I was wrong only once today, and it was when I said you were just as strong as Soldier Boy. You are not. You are much, much stronger. Not physically, of course, but overall. Overall, your power surpasses Soldier Boy’s, surpasses Homelander’s. I know you wish him dead, I would imagine you prefer it to be painful, and very few deaths inflict the suffering felt when one is burned alive. I suggest you learn how to control your gift, and learn fast. You were looking for a weapon, and I am telling you that you are it. Do not waste yourself.”

And he walked away, leaving your mouth open and your eyes wide. You stood to follow him, painfully pulling yourself to your feet, but made only a few steps before you felt a rock hit your back, and you whipped around to find Frenchie behind you, holding a hose.

“Starlight suggests you take a shower before our drive back,” he said, gesturing to the hose.

You blinked, looking back at Edgar, only to watch him be loaded into an armed van. Your brow wrinkled, a part of you wanting to chase the car down and demand Edgar elaborate, but you just turned back to Frenchie with a sigh.

“Sure, just count down before you–“

You cut yourself off as the freezing water hit you in the face.

Thankfully, Frenchie had thought to bring a towel—a gross, possibly moldy towel—but a towel nonetheless, and he handed it to you the moment the hose-down was finished. As his arm stretched out, you noticed a deep gash poking out from his sleeve.

“I can fix that,” you gestured to him. “I mean, I’ll have to touch you, but I won’t tell anyone what I feel, and you won’t have to let MM give you stitches.”

Frenchies frowned, looking at his arm as if only he now noticing his injury. “Are you sure? You must be tired, and–“

“I’ll be fine. Won’t hurt me for more than a few seconds.”

He hesitated, but gave you a nod, rolling up his sleeve before offering his injury to you. You took a deep breath and placed your hand over the wound. It hit you fast, it always did, the onslaught of emotions. You were suddenly twice as tired, a powerful and painful guilt sitting on your shoulders and a self-loathing that was familiar, but not yours, carved itself into your chest. After a second to adjust, you started to work. Your own arm, mirror to Frenchies, began to sting as the skin turned raw and red. You bit your tongue, ignoring it and focusing on keeping yourself going until the cut was gone, the skin was healthy, and there were no signs of any issues in the first place.

“Huh,” Frenchie stated at his unmarked arm, glancing at your own, which was already fully healed itself. “Merci.”

“No problem,” you offered him a grin. “Just don’t tell Butcher you accepted my evil supe healing.”

“You do not,” he frowned slightly. “You do not feel everything, yes? Just, simple, children’s emotions?”

It was your turn to frown. “Children’s emotions?”

“Oui. Joy, fear, sadness. No more.”

Oh. You hesitated to answer, debating if it was worth the lie. It would make him feel better, you reasoned with yourself.

But he wouldn’t trust you, a little voice whispered. And he’ll hate you.

You settled on the truth. You didn’t think you could stand another person hating you.

“No, I feel… everything,” you admitted. “But I wasn’t lying before. I won’t tell anyone.” You paused, watching his face carefully as you continued. “I won’t tell Kimiko.”

A look of shock passed over his face, but Frenchie nodded. “Good. Good. Tres bien,” he gave you a grateful look. “Merci.”

“Anytime,” you gave him a close-lipped smile, and the two of you returned to your group just as your ride pulled up. As you loaded into the car and began the long, tense drive, Edgar’s words replayed on loop in your head.

Your power surpasses Soldier Boy’s, surpasses Homelander’s. Learn how to control your gift, and learn fast. Do not waste yourself.

Do not waste yourself.

You thought back to the last time you saw Homelander. Though it had been from a distance, and he had not even known you were there, your body had frozen. Fear, white-hot and all consuming, had coursed through you. You had almost passed out from it. If you had been face-to-face with him, it might have killed you all on its own.

Do not waste yourself.

You couldn’t fight Homelander. You just couldn’t. You could be capable of overpowering him tenfold, and you still wouldn’t be able to fight him. You knew, in your heart, that his eyes would meet yours and you would be sent right back into that tiny white room, feel his hands holding you down, feel that hollow, empty hopelessness leak from you into the air.

But he needs to die, a small voice whispered in your head. And you’re the Anomaly. You could kill him. You’re the only one who could stop him forever, make sure he never hurts anyone, ever again.

No. No, you couldn’t be the only one. Yes, the biochem weapon had been a bust, and no one else could possibly rival Homelander and come out of it alive. But there had to be other options.

Your power surpasses Soldier Boy’s.

Do not waste yourself.

An idea started to form in your head. A terrible idea. A reckless and dangerous idea. But an idea all the same. And as it became fully formed, you managed to convince yourself more and more that it might somehow work.

Now all you had to do was convince everyone else.

——-

“No. No fucking way.”

The air in the meeting room was tense, mouths hanging open in shock. MM was glaring at you with a disdain you had previously only seen directed at Butcher, Butcher watched at you with a reverence you hope to never see on his face again, Grace Mallory looked all at once disgusted, intrigued, and impressed, and President-Elect Singer frowned as he listened, but gave you a nod to continue regardless.

“I know it’s crazy, but the problem last time was that you couldn’t control him, right? And I could. You can have us isolated, making sure we're out of the public eye and away from any possible collateral until you need us. I’d keep an eye on him, keep him in line, and he wouldn’t be able to hurt me.”

“I, for one, think this is an amazing idea. Best one I ever heard,” Butcher grinned at you. “Worst case scenario, it goes sideways, he kills her, we knock him out, and everyone still wins.”

“What part of ‘he wouldn’t be able to hurt me’ don’t you understand?” You snapped back.

“What if he blasts you with his fucking reactor?” MM pushed. “Makes you just another human? What’s your plan then?”

“That wouldn’t work on me,” you responded dryly.

Butcher snorted, but Mallory raised an eyebrow.

“Really? What makes you so sure?”

“One of the tests that was run on me was putting me in a room and blasting it with nuclear energy. They dropped Hiroshima on me, and it did jack shit. Soldier Boy throwing a temper tantrum won’t be any different.”

“And how do you think you could control him?” Singer asked.

“I can burn up to 5500 degrees Celsius. That’s hotter than a bomb. Won’t kill him, will knock him the fuck out. And it’ll hurt.”

“I just can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner,” Butcher mused. “It’s fuckin' perfect.”

You glowered at him. “Stop helping me.”

MM looked at Mallory. “The fact that America’s number one unstable asshole,” he gestured to Butcher. “Is on board should be enough to tell you how stupid this is.”

“Number two unstable asshole,” you said under your breath.

“Thanks, Love,” Butcher winked at you.

“Yeah well, don’t be so pleased. You’re only just losing to Homelander.”

Butcher shrugged, and you returned your attention to Singer. “Sir, please trust me. I, more than almost anyone, know how dangerous this could be. But Homelander is more dangerous. We needed a weapon,” you echoed Edgar’s words. “This is it.”

Singer nodded slowly, and MM scoffed.

“You can’t be seriously considering this. He’s a fucking unstable asshole murderer and a goddamn liability. What if we wake him up, she can’t control him, and he gets free?”

“We said whatever it takes,” you snapped. “I wouldn’t be pitching this if I thought it wouldn’t work. I can control him, I promise.”

“You’d bet your life on it?” Mallory asked.

“My life?” You snorted. “In a heartbeat.”

Mallory sighed. “Then fine,” she shot a look to Singer. “I’ll sign off if you do.”

“Sir,” MM said, sounding almost desperate. “I am begging you, do not do this.”

Singer just shook his head slightly. “Desperate times, they make you do desperate things. If I saw another way, I’d take it, but for now we’ll have to make do. I approve the request.”

“Thank you, sir.” You gave Singer a grateful nod, ignoring the searing feeling of MM’s anger.

“Don’t thank me, girl. If this goes south, it’s your head. Grace, set up a safe house for them ASAP, if I’m signing off on this I want it moving fast.”

Mallory nodded. “It’ll take a few days. We’ll have to transport him there before we wake him up.”

“Do whatever you have to,” Singer said as he stood to leave. “If this is our only shot, we can’t afford to miss.”

[dixons-sunshine]

A Mess | Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

“Holy fuck.”

Despite the situation being anything but humorous, you found yourself chuckling—albeit bitterly—at his exclamation. “Holy fuck, indeed.”

Your apartment was the epitome of a mess. Due to the incessant amount of rain that had been falling to the earth over the last few days, your already flimsy, leaking roof had completely caved in. The debris, as well as the water, had completely ruined most of your bigger belongings. You just thanked god for the fact that your more precious items—namely your photos and other smaller things that held a lot of value to you—had managed to escape the cruel aftermath of the destruction.

You had called Murphy in distress when you had come home to find it destroyed. Your boyfriend, who lived a thirty minute drive away, had managed to make it to you in half of that time. Admittedly, before you even showed him the dire state of your apartment, you had sobbed into his chest, seeking comfort in the arms of the man you loved so dearly.

And when you finally showed him your apartment, his reaction perfectly summed up how you felt.

“Alright,” Murphy began, forcing the shock to leave his body, “let’s get started then, yeah? Where do you want me?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, ya can’t live here when the place is like this, las,” he replied, turning to look at you, his gaze soft and sincere. He gently gripped your shoulders in his hands. “We salvage what we can, and we put ‘em in boxes, and then we put ‘em in my car, and then we drive back to my place and get you settled in.”

Your heart swelled at that. “You sure? I don’t wanna be a burden for you and Connor.”

Murphy scoffed and shook his head. “You could never be a burden, Angel. Not for Connor, and especially not for me. Besides, it would be good to get you there. You’ve been wantin’ to put a ‘woman’s touch’ on our apartment for a while now. Think of this as the perfect opportunity to do so.”

That made you smile. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly, sighing in content when Murphy instantly reciprocated the embrace. “Thank you, Murph.”

“Of course, Angel,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head. “I love you, las.”

“I love you too, Murph. So much.”

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

I've Got You

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 25. Betrayal, "How could you?" Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader Summary: A night at The Hard Deck takes a dire turn when you realize someone has slipped something into your drink. As the drugs begin kicking in, you turn to your pilot for help. Word Count: 2326 TW: Reader is Hangman's Backseater, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drugged, Spiked Drink, Betrayal, Jake Carries Reader, Fighting, Implied Future Sexual Assualt, Language, NOT ALL TWs LISTED READ AT OWN RISK  Notes: Thank you to @ohtobeleah for looking this over 💕 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

For the third time, you jammed your fingers down your throat trying to expel whatever drug had entered your system into the toilet in front of you. Yet as hard as you tried, nothing else was coming up. You collapsed sideways and dragged yourself over to the back wall. There, wedged between the toilet and the side of the stall, you tried to figure out what to do next. Your head was growing foggier by the minute and your body was becoming so heavy that it was a struggle to even lift your hand or hold your head up. 

Using what little strength you had left, you dug your phone out of your pocket, and, with it lying on the floor beside you, you typed the words “help. bathroom. now.” into your last text chat and pressed send. Then all the tension left your body as you slumped limply against the toilet.

You had no idea how long you waited like that, but eventually, you heard a soft knock at the stall door. “Sunshine? You in here?”

“Jake…”

That was all he needed to hear. You only ever called him Jake when you were being one hundred percent serious or the situation was dire. There was a second of silence before the door smashed open, the lock shattering as the full force of Hangman’s foot slammed into the door. He looked around before he noticed you wedged in the corner. His eyes grew wide and his tanned skin paled in the fluorescent lighting as he dropped to his knees in front of you. 

“Oh my god…” He grabbed your chin between his fingers and tilted your head to get a better look at your eyes. “Your pupils are huge. What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

“Drink…” You swallowed and tried to claw your way out of the darkness you were slipping into. “S-someone put something in my drink.”

“Fuck…” Jake muttered, glancing over his shoulder. Then, his attention returned to you as he leaned in, his beer-scented breath breezing across your face. “Who were you drinking with? Sunny, stay with me.” He gently slapped your cheeks to get you to open your eyes. “Who was it?”

You tried to think but the fog rolling through your mind made it hard to focus. Finally, you recalled, “Frogger. Frogger and Screwball.”

“Okay, good.” Jake ran his hand up and down your arm, trying to keep you awake. “We need to let Penny know and have her call the cops. And probably the MPs. I won’t let them get away with this.”

“Thank…you…” you muttered, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of your lips. For the first time since you realized what was happening, you felt safe.

“I’m not gonna let someone mess with my backseater, now am I? Only I’m allowed to do that,” Jake smiled back, ruffling your hair. Then he placed his arms under your arms and legs and lifted your limp body off the floor. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Now, let’s get outta here.”

With your head carefully tucked against his chest, Jake carried you from the bathroom. Your eyes were half-lidded and your vision was still tinged with darkness but at least it wasn’t getting worse and you were no longer fighting to remain awake with everything in you. You were still having trouble moving your limbs or lifting your head, however, it didn’t matter as you were safely gathered in Jake’s arms. 

As soon as Jake walked into the main room of the bar, Penny noticed the two of you and gasped. Tossing her bar rag onto her shoulder, she hurried to Jake’s side, placing her hand on your cheek as she asked, “Oh my god! Is she alright?”

“She will be. But you need to call the cops.” Jake nodded towards the end of the bar where Frogger and Screwball were still sitting next to your empty seat. “Those two bastards spiked her drink.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Seresin?” Frogger demanded, sliding off his bar stool as his face grew red. “We didn’t do anything to her! We were just flirting a little.”

Screwball looked like a deer caught in headlights as he glanced from Frogger to you and back to Frogger. “Frog—”

“Shut up,” the other pilot growled under his breath. Then, turning back to Jake, he said, “I don’t care what the bitch says, we didn’t touch her or her fucking drink. You’re not pinning this on us. I’m not going down for something I didn’t do.”

“You were the only ones with her since she got her drink,” Penny snapped, her hands on her hips. “And I sure as hell didn’t drug her when I served her.” 

Screwball jumped off his chair and took off for the door, but before he could get more than a few steps, Rooster, Coyote, and Payback blocked his way. All three men had at least four inches and twenty pounds on the small pilot and they all looked out for blood after an attack on one of their own. 

Screwball whirled around and pointed a trembling finger at Frogger. “It had to be him! I just wanted to play some darts but he’s the one who insisted we chat up Sunshine. He has to be the one that did it!”

“You son of a bitch!” 

Frogger turned and launched himself at Screwball, knocking both men to the floor. Before anyone could react, Frogger began pummeling Screwball in the face as he yelled, “Take it back, you fucking traitor! I didn’t do it!” 

The three pilots who had been guarding the door dove into the fray and pulled Frogger off Screwball even as he continued kicking and cursing. Screwball curled into a ball and sobbed, alternating between cries of pain and cries of his innocence. 

Penny had momentarily vanished in the scuffle but reappeared back at your side with her phone and a water bottle that she held out to you. “Here, honey, drink this. It’ll help flush whatever they gave you out of your system.”

With her help, you took a few big sips out of the bottle, spilling some of it down your shirt. However, the cool water felt refreshing on your feverish skin and you relaxed into Jake’s arms with a sigh. 

Penny smiled, tucking the water bottle between your arm and Jake’s chest. Then she dialed 911 and waited for someone to answer. Glancing at Jake, she asked, “Should I have them send an ambulance too?”

“No, it’s okay.” Jake shifted you slightly so he had a better hold on you, then began heading towards the bar’s exit. “I’ll take her to the hospital, make sure she’s alright.” 

“Thank you, Jake,” Penny smiled, the phone still up to her ear. Pointing at him as Bob held the door open, Penny added, “All your drinks are on the house for the next month.” 

“I’m gonna make you regret that,” Jake chuckled, then he carried you out into the night.

It was a short walk across the parking lot to his truck. Once there, Jake settled you into the passenger seat before walking around to the driver’s side and climbing in, placing your water bottle in the cup holder. When he started the engine, he cracked your window so you could get a little breeze then he pulled out of the parking lot. 

Between throwing up, the cool night air in your face, and the water Penny gave you, you were starting to feel more alert. The world around you was still swimming slightly, but you were able to sit up and lift your head. 

Jake must have noticed because he grinned as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Hey there, Sunshine. How you feeling?”

“Better,” you mumbled, blinking a few times to try and clear your vision. Smiling softly at him, you said, “Thank you, Hangman. I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”

“It’s what I do, Sunny,” Jake said. “I’m your pilot. I’ve always got your best interest in mind.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, leaning your head back against the door to get more air. “I guess you do.”

The two of you drove in silence for a few minutes and you were just about to drift off when you realized where you were. Sitting up, you asked, “Wait, I thought you were taking me to the hospital. Wasn’t that the turn?”

Jake shrugged. “Yeah, but they are doing construction down that road. I can turn up here.” He grabbed the open water bottle Penny had given you out of the cup holder and held it out to you. “Here. Drink some more of this. It’ll help.”

Taking it from him, you downed it in one gulp. You didn’t register the bitter sting on your tongue until after you had swallowed yet you recognized it immediately as the same taste that had initially alerted you that something was wrong back at the bar. But you had drunk half the water bottle when Penny first gave it to you without noticing anything off. Which could only mean…

Slowly, you raised your eyes to look at your pilot, the man you trusted with your life on a daily basis. “You wouldn’t…”

A smug grin spread across Jake’s face as he continued to stare at the road in front of him. “You know…I was so sure you had figured out it was me when I got your text. I thought you noticed me slipping the drug into your drink when I came up to the bar to grab my beer and that the game was over before it really even began. But then when I looked at you, huddled there on that disgusting floor looking so pathetic, I realized things had gone better than I hoped. I knew you’d tell someone what happened—probably Phoenix or Bob—then I’d step up to drive you to the hospital. I just never imagined I’d be the one you went to for help. Not when we weren’t on the clock.”

Tears slipped down your face, your voice quivering as you whispered, “How could you?”

“Come on, Sunshine. We both know you’ve been teasing me for months now, just begging me to make a move. Like I wouldn’t notice that perfume you’ve been wearing just for me? How I catch that faint trace of it in the cockpit when you shift in your seat behind me? Or how you always tie the arms of your flight suit around your waist when we’re going through after-training checks, showing off those perky breasts beneath that thin white tank top? Bending over in front of me rubbing that perfect ass in my face? You know how many times I’ve almost pinned you to the side of our plane and had my way with you? But no. You wanted to play the game, so I played the game. Now I’ve won, I’ve got you, and I’m ready for my prize.”

Horrified, all you could do was stare at this stranger with your pilot’s face. This was not the Jake Seresin you had been flying with for the past six months. The one who would flirt with almost any woman who crossed his path, yes, but who would never cross the line or hurt anyone…or so you thought.

Even as your body began to go slack in your seat as this new round of drugs kicked in, you tried to reason with him. “Jake, I’m sorry if I ever gave you the wrong impression, but I don’t want this. I-I was just doing my job. I wasn’t trying to tease you or lead you on. And it’s not too late. P-Please, stop this now and we’ll just forget everything that happened tonight.”

“Oh, I know you will.” Jake’s grin took on a sinister edge as the shadows between street lights flashed across his face. “That’s the best part of this drug. You won’t remember any of this in the morning.”

“What?” you breathed, a whole new level of terror settling in at this revelation. 

“But don’t worry, Sunny,” Jake purred as he turned into the driveway of a house you vaguely recalled visiting once to pick up some paperwork he forgot to file. “That just means we can play this game over and over and over again.”

He threw the truck into park and jumped out. A second later, your door opened and you tumbled out into his arms. Before in the bar, Jake had carried you so carefully, making sure you were positioned comfortably in his arms. There was no care or regard for your comfort this time. Now, he placed his arm under your knees and shoulders, letting your head hang down loosely and making the world turn upside down as he lugged your body around like a lifeless sack. 

Whatever he stuck in the water bottle must have been slightly different from what he gave you in the bar because while you couldn’t even manage to turn your head or lift your finger, your head wasn’t swimming like before and your vision was clear. 

Tears rolled up your face and up into your hair as Jake carried you up the driveway towards his front door. You were too weak to call out or struggle against him and, once he got you inside his house, you knew there was nothing to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to you. 

As he opened the door, you silently prayed that what he said earlier was true. While you knew you needed to know what happened tonight to recognize the monster hiding behind the toothpick and perfect smile you saw in the seat in front of you every day, you didn’t want to remember a second of what he was about to do to you.

Jake stepped into the darkness of his house and the door slammed behind you.

[ripleyresonance]

Sweet Enough to Eat

Sugar Mommy Rhea! x OC

Part 2

Happy Holiday's Mosherz. I hope you all made it on the naughty list this year. This is part 1 of a sugar mommy Rhea fic idea I had. Let me know if you want more...it might be ready already...

Cali had always enjoyed the finer things in life.

Her favorite perfume was Vanilla Diorama by Dior. Her favorite weekend getaway was Nicè, France. And she had even had her favorite sakè flown in from Japan on a bi-weekly schedule.

The best part was that she didn’t spend a dime on this lifestyle. It was all thanks to her sugar mommy.

Cali smiled sitting at her vanity and looking at a picture of her “mami” on her vanity. Cali was unsure which state or country she was in right now. Being an international WWE superstar meant she was gone most of the time. And with past sugar mommy’s, Cali had never cared as long as they bought her what she wanted she was happy. But something about this one left this empty feeling inside of her when Rhea left.

It all started a few months ago. Cali was down on her luck in a major way. Her last sugar mommy had ghosted her and she was running low on perfume. It had even been three weeks since she had her nails done. It was a dire situation.

To take her mind off it she went to her favorite bar from college. She knew they had cheap drinks so she put on a baseball cap and sunglasses and just tried to keep your head down and drink the sadness away. By the time she left, she was understandably pretty fucked up. Maybe she was a little too fucked up as she was bent over throwing up on the brick wall next to the building in the ally. She went to sit on the cool pavement as she felt a strong arm hold her up.

“Woah woah easy there beautiful. Don’t want you to sit in this puke puddle.” An Australian accent said to Cali.

Cali giggled as she stood up facing the woman.

“Y-you sound like bluey.” Cali burped.

The woman laughed.

“You would be surprised how often I get that.” She smiled.

“Can I get you an Uber love, you look like it’s been a rough night?” She said frowning a bit.

“Oh, you wouldn’t even believe the half of it! I mean first, she ghosted me and didn’t even leave me enough money to get my nails done last week now look at them.” Cali cried showing the woman her nails.

“Who could ever let such a pretty thing let their nails go undone?!” She said playing along with Cali.

Cali smiled at the woman as her drunk brain thought someone finally understood her problems.

“What’s your address honey?” the woman asked propping her against the wall to grab her phone.

Cali frowned at the woman.

“I don’t wanna go home. It’s not like anyone will be waiting for me.” Cali said making the women pause for a moment. “Did you want to go back to my place?” She offered.

Cali gasped dramatically.

“Are you trying to kidnap me!?” Cali said loudly.

The women panicked.

“NO NO oh god you just looked sad and sounded like you-“ the woman stuttered.

Cali laughed loudly playfully pushing her shoulder. “I’m fucking with you. A sexy buff lady just asked me to come back to her house. I’ll happily be kidnapped.” Cali said putting her hands out in front of her acting ready for cuffs.

The woman chuckled rubbing the back of her neck.

“You going to be a real handful huh?”

“I could be two handfuls if you wanted..” Cali said grabbing her chest and making the woman laugh.

“C'mon then my car is around the corner she said grabbing Cali’s hand to guide her. It was warm and grounding, enough for her to realize.

“Wait wait wait,” Cali said making the woman stop to face her.

“I’m about to go home with you but I don't even know your name. I mean not like I haven't hooked up with someone before not knowing their name” Cali said.

The woman thought for a moment before touching Cali's chin lightly.

“ We are not doing anything tonight in the state you are in besides getting you a new outfit. You can call me Rhea…what can I call you?” Rhea said her voice low.

“Shit with that voice you can call me whatever you like.” Cali felt her face heat up. “But my friends call me Cali”.

“Well…Cali, shall we go home?”

The next thing Cali knew she was opening her eyes to a bull terrier licking her face.

She shot up in a bed that was not hers as a woman ran in the door.

“Oh shit I am so sorry I wanted to let you sleep in. Barry DOWN off the bed.” the woman snapped as the dog ran off.

Cali looked at the woman momentarily as last night flooded back to her. She remembered her picking her off of the sidewalk, going back to her place…throwing up on her-

“Oh, my god.” Cali said “I just remembered…I am so sorry!” She went to move from the bed until she realized she had no clothes on.

Cali looked mortified as Rhea quickly reassured her.

“We didn't do anything! After you threw up on me I went to go shower and I came back to you naked and laying on my bed so I threw the blanket on you and went to sleep on the couch” Rhea said frantically.

“I- oh my god.” is all Cali could say putting her head in her hands.

“Hey hey we all have had those days, trust me,” Rhea said leaning down next to her and placing a glass of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.

“You have woken up naked in a stranger's bed after she picked you up out of your own puke?” Cali said peeking out of her hands.

“Well…no,” Rhea admitted causing Cali to groan and fall over.

Rhea laughed going to her closet to grab Cali some clothes.

“Here you can take a shower real quick and throw on these clothes, I will make us some coffee.” Rhea smiled before leaving Cali alone.

As Cali showered all she could do was die of embarrassment remembering the night before. Did she call A total stranger a “sexy buff lady?”. On top of that strip naked and lay on her bed. Cali had to get out of there quickly but after walking out to the kitchen she was hit with the smell of toast.

“There you are sunshine, I got coffee and some toast, the hangover breakfast of champions.”

Rhea sat the food on her kitchen island before Cali as she just stared at the woman.

“Why are you being so nice to me…” Cali said quietly. Rhea looked at the woman with soft eyes.

“Last night you told me you didn't want to go home…you said no one was waiting there..and I don't think anyone should feel that way…especially not someone as beautiful as you are.”

Rhea mumbled the last part as Cali blushed taking a seat and drinking a sip of coffee.

“So did you just break up with your partner then?” Rhea questioned as she leaned against the counter sipping a cup of her coffee.

“Oh no, I haven't dated in…a long time.” Cali laughed

Rhea cocked her eyebrow.

“Sorry you mentioned someone was paying for your nails and perfume so I assumed,” Rhea said

Cali groaned internally thinking how she was about to explain to this kind stranger that she just gets sugar mommies to buy her things. She should have just lied but the ibuprofen was taking longer than she wanted to kick in.

“I uh…people like to buy me those things sometimes,” Cali said avoiding eye contact.

Rhea had a devious smile across her face.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Rhea questioned.

Cali signed looking at Rhea.

“Okay okay let me explain I started back in college and it was super easy and I started getting used to all the gifts and attention and-” Cali rambled.

“Hey hey, no judgment from me..It's not like you are scamming people. They just like giving you what you want, and I see why.” Rhea smirked.

Cali looked confused as Rhea set her cup down standing in front of Cali grabbing her hand. “You were right last night. I cannot believe someone would let you have your nails grown out this much. I would let you change them multiple times a week if that was what you wanted.

Cali stared at her shaking her head and laughing.

“Okay okay poke fun of me all you want thank you for the breakfast,” Cali said getting up as Rhea as Rhea pulled her hand again.

“I’m being serious…Cali.” Rhea said.

“My job has me flying everywhere, I am rarely here at home and it would be nice to have someone to come home to when I am back Maybe even fly out sometimes.” Rhea smiled.

Cali blinked a couple of times trying to process what Rhea was saying.

“… I’m sorry but do you remember me puking on you less than twenty-four hours ago? Why in the fuck would you want to be my sugar mommy.” Cali said highly confused.

“Because Cali I find you…interesting, and I want to find out why,” Rhea said lightly kissing the inside of Cali’s wrist making her blush.

As the offer hung in the air Cali’s mind raced at the unexpected turn of events. Rhea offered to go get her nails fixed she couldn't help but feel a sort of tension in the air…Cali did not know if it was all in her head or what but she could have sworn that kiss to her wrist was more romantic than transactional.

[ladyelissarose]

‘Guardian Angel’ 

F reader x Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Reader’s call-sign: Fix

Summary: Amongst the many other lives you’ve saved, particularly you have saved Ghost’s life countless of times. You made some close calls on your life to spare his, and yet, he never seemed to appreciate it or even notice it. But your were wrong, when he came to your rescue, when you made the biggest call of your life, to spare his.

Warnings: We’re dealing with COD (Call Of Duty) here, so we know what to expect, guns and warfare stuff, some angst and guess what… some fluffy fluff too!! Enjoy ;)

“Take cover!! We’ve been ambushed!!”

Captain Price’s voice rang through your comms in a loud, panicked tone. And he was right, you all were ambushed after walking into a deadly trap. You should’ve known that stepping inside a dark, empty room in a 3 story building had its very own hidden objects that either exploded on you or shot at you. And today, it looked like the Cartels had switched up their game this time and used large laser guns that were motion censored. You being small compared to everyone else, found cover in at a small corner, Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish, the infamous only Scottish man with a steady Mohawk (only because he used 10 million pounds of gel and other random oils he collected in his hands.) found his cover with Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick inside what looked like a closet, and Captain John Price was not in the building (thank God), he was actually in the getaway car this time that lied about 1 and a half miles away from here. And lastly, Ghost, stood completely still in the middle of the room, doing his absolute best to make his breathing almost come to a complete stop, so his moves would lessen closely to a zero. From the corner you watched him with wide and worried filled eyes, afraid that any movement he could make would activate the lasers and it would go through his skull in an instant, even through all the stupid masks he wore. 

  ‘Why do you put yourself in fucking predicaments Simon??!’

You came to the conclusion that you should take a moment and breathe, then think about a good plan, you were good at making those anyways. Why? Well, think about why you were called ‘Fix’ in the first place, because you happened to ‘Fix’ everything. You never got credit for it, the most you got was, ‘you did your job.’, which is true, but come on; You’ve saved your teams ass about 173,948,929,928- anyways, the numbers go on and on and on, from one way to another, you’ve made it your life’s mission to save theirs, no matter what it could cost you. And with Ghost, damn he takes up 3/4 of the times a life has been saved by you, he has landed in that spot so many times in so many different ways, you’re surprised he’s still in one piece, heck- you’re even more surprised that you haven’t died yet in his stead. So you knew that if you pushed him away from the lasers hit, because you saw the hunter green flashlight hang off of his belt by like a thread, that he would only shrug it off like nothing and give you cold shoulder for a few days, but in all honesty, you stopped caring for thankfulness from him a long time ago. You knew that you had to get Ghost out of the way, for that flashlight was going to slip off his belt and land on the ground, hence making enough sound and movement to set the lasers off, but you needed to wait for the right moment to achieve just that. What in reality took about 5 minutes for all of this to come into place, actually felt like an eternity to you. Sweat covered your exposed skin and your heart’s beating became erratic. You felt every bone and nerve inside your body shake violently and tremble like jelly. And yet, on the outside, you looked put together and confident, vigilant, even bold for being in such a dire situation. Ghost faced you from where you hid, but he kept his eyes away from yours, you believed he was avoiding you only because he could read you like a book, and today he wasn’t ready to face and figure out what you had in store. But he didn’t have to necessarily look at you to see what you were going to do, from the corner of his eye he saw your swift change in position, from being completely coward to the ground to now in a low, standing position. He caught your attention and made you halt your moves when he gruffly whispered,

“Don’t move Fix, don’t.”

Before you answered back the flashlight made a movement of about an inch, slowly coming really close to falling, which caused you to reply hurriedly,

 “But Ghost-“

 “Stay in position Fix, that’s a fuckin’ order.”

 Your jaw dropped in the slightest, as you were left without words to explain your desperation to get him out of the way before it was too late. You then felt eyes burning into your soul, causing you to look up and see the one and only, masked up soldier sending you glares in a stare down. Ghost’s tall appearance and fearing stance with his intimidating eyes sent a chill up your spine while you took a deep breath in, feeling as if the world and time took a complete stop all around you. Maybe he didn’t give a damn about your life, but you sure as hell cared about his. He was a very important man in the Ghost Team, he presence was needed at all times, he was like the Queen to the Chess Game, powerful to go wherever and the protector of the King, well needed for his power and capability. And you, well… you were like the pawn, maybe you were small and could only move in certain places at a time, but freakin hell, you made sure that those few steps counted, and indeed you always succeeded that way. And today was no different. You had nothing to live for anyways, you lost your family in a massacre when you were a teenager, and only had yourself to fend for, so you chose the military to become your new family. Laswell kept you alongside her after you selflessly saved her life, and soon represented you to Price and his Team when you accidentally ran into them while trying to save their lives from an active bomb. You were only saving lives all the time, trying to make up for the ones you couldn’t save, your family. But now you took a complete stand, and kept your eyes on the slipping flashlight, as you began to move your right foot forward slowly. Ghost saw this and growled angrily,

 “Fix, stop.”

 Your breathed hitched when it finally fell but luckily it’s lock got caught on his pant leg. The laser gun immediately pointed towards his leg and held its new position, waiting like a lion after its prey, craving and anticipating the next move to strike. You sighed in relief but nonetheless said,

 “You’re calling it close Ghost, you need to move now, or I’ll move you.”

“You will not fuckin move Fix, I got it under control-“

CLINCK!’

Now that was the sound, of the flashlight finally letting go, and clicking on the ground it fell on. In a heartbeat you moved from your place and shoved Ghost as hard as you could away from his spot. With doing this came along the feeling of a burning, pain sear through your chest and electrocute every vain and nerve in your body. With whatever air was left in your lungs you let out a scream so loud it probably woke up the dead. The power of the electricity held your body in place as it continued to burn everything inside of you, but soon through all of the chaos, you heard loud shots being rung around, and soon the lasers were no longer holding you hostage with their electrical powers. Your body let loose and hit the ground harshly, trying to process the amount of pain it had just went through. Ringing sounds filled your ears and it made your head pound painfully, you tried to move your body but it felt too heavy and painful to even shift a little. You opened your eyes as best as possible, to only see smoke fill the atmosphere along with black spots cover your vision. In the distance, over the ringing noise, you heard voices shout back at you,

 “Fix!! FIX STAY AWAKE!!”

“FUCK LT SHE’S LOSING CONSCIOUSNESS!!”

 “GAZ GET PRICE HERE NOW!”

“I’M TAKING OUT ALL OF THESE DAMN LASER GUNS!! Drag her out of here!!”

 Then it went completely black and silent for you.

Ghost’s POV

Ghost lost the air in his lungs when he felt you go limp in his arms, he had already made it outside and very close to Price’s truck. But instead of climbing into the truck to speed towards the closest hospital or medical center at base, he laid you on the ground in the middle of the desert to begin performing CPR. In desperation and with bare hands he ripped opened your suit and yanked off your bullet proof suit as well. He then proceeded to tear open your shirt, (which was a black, long sleeve Henley that was being borrowed by you from Soap.) once he did this, he pressed his ears against your chest, and held his fingers against your pulse on your neck, and almost whimpered in fear when he couldn’t feel or hear a pulse. He backed up and whispered to himself,

 “She can’t be dead… no.”

He shut his eyes and shook off his worst fears , wanting to believe that what was true in the moment really wasn’t. He sucked in a large amount of air before lifting his mask up to his nose, and pressing his lips to yours, doing his best to play God, and breathe air into your lifeless lungs. He went on and on, with hope weighing less in his heart, as he grew more erratic and panicked when you didn’t cooperate. 

 “COME ON LASS!! WAKE UP!!”

Ghost yanked off his mask completely, for he felt like he was suffocating under it. He breathing was heavy and uneven, as he sat back and stared, waiting for the miracle to come, waiting to see your eyes open and the gift of life grant you a deserving, second chance. But you didn’t move, breathe, or wake up, you were gone. Ghost grabbed the mask he had taken off, and he used it to wipe your dirty face gently and caress it, crying inside at seeing you in this hopeless position. Soap and Gaz came to stand beside his kneeling place, Soap made the move to pat his back gently, while wording sadly,

 “It’s over Lt, we have to go.”

Ghost swallowed the guilt that had begun to grow in his throat, and slowly nodded.

 “You’re right Johnny… it’s over.”

Gaz sighed in relief, sorta happy to see Ghost work with them and accept destiny’s fate, so he quickly grabbed his arm and helped Soap lift him off the ground and away from you. But unfortunately yet fortunately… Ghost really wasn’t done with you. He hadn’t even taken a step away from you when he yanked his arms away from their grasp and shouted from the deepest of his heart and soul,

 “NOO!! No! I can’t leave her here it’s not her fault!!”

Before the men could react to his outburst, 

 he was by your side again, using every ounce of air he sucked in to fill you up. Soap grabbed his vest and ordered him with a frustrated tone, (for he too was beginning to feel the weight of your deadly absence) 

 “GHOST NO!!-“

Ghost kept his hand grasping tightly onto your shirt, afraid to let you go or to be pulled away, and didn’t hesitate to pull his large pocket knife out on Soap, as he growled with watery, red eyes,

“Move the fuck away Johnny, or I will make you go still.”

Soap stopped in his tracks, and held his hands up and away from Ghost’s reach while lowering his voice, and trying to calm the struggle,

 “Lt. please-“

A large but warm hand then landed on Soap’s arm, silently commanding him to stop arguing with his LT. Soap tore his eyes away from Ghost’s piercing ones, to find solace in Price’s, which were looking at him with insistence,

 “Soap, leave him alone.”

Ghost took Price’s words as his cue to continue, and now used his both palms to compress your chest, doing his absolute best to ignore the sickening cracks of your rib cage breaking under his mercy of trying to revive you. During this whole time he had been quiet, screaming from the inside and pit of his stomach, but now, he couldn’t hold in his despair anymore.

 “FIX PLEASE!! BREATHE!! BREATHE!!”

An unexpected sob escaped his lips as he for the last time, took a large heap of air, and held your face between his hands, as he pressed his wet, salty lips to yours, craving for your touch and life to return his passion to feel you move and breathe for him. Soap watched with tears in his eyes and trembling hands and lips, Gaz kept wiping away his falling tears to get a clear vision of what was happening, and Price, he couldn’t even breathe. Every single member in the team secretly really loved and cherished your presence, you were the mother they never had. It was the ‘here I made you dinner’ to the ‘go take a nap honey, I’ll cover your spot.’ that made them appreciate your life and grow close with you. But with Ghost, his problem was that he didn’t know how to word it, and most of the time feared that your loving heart was a cover up for a betraying heart that could come later. But your life scarifying actions towards his team and him proved him wrong every time. This scared him too, your willingness to give up everything of you to save him. So at the end of every successful mission, he’d shove you away,  hoping to see you grow into hating his selfish heart and ways, and maybe dodge the next bullet that went his way. Yet, here you were, in a battle between life and death, for him. In the bottom of his heart, he really liked you too like his team, maybe he could even say that he loved you, he loved your good heart and work, your faithfulness and trust in him, even when he grew internally angry and showed it when you got hurt to protect him. But happy he was to see you made it out alive each time, to feed him that delicious childhood meal of yours everyday, be with him when they felt lonely but didn’t want to talk, even take care of his wounds and sick tummies when he drank away to forget the haunting nightmares. But that happiness didn’t visit him today, instead it was fear, guilt, and death that lurked around him, ready to snatch his heart into their painful grasp, and rip him apart. 

Your POV

But the power of life, in a single breath, sent all those demons away in an instant. The atmosphere was filled with the sound of you gasping for air and Ghost calling out to you supportively and happily,

 “That’s good baby girl, breathe for me, breathe.”

 Ghost held you up a little so you could breathe better, and you went into a coughing fit, adjusting your chest feeling an excruciating pain each time you sucked in. The Ghost team had cheered happily and hugged one another, grateful to see you alive, and though they were excited and anxious to reach you, they gave Ghost space to comprehend, that his killing hands and harsh life, had the soul and heart to save yours. You had moved to sit down, holding onto your chest with one hand as you looked up at your savior, admiring his beautiful, scarred face, that looked at with you with compassion and something else, that looked like love. He was too beautiful to be real,

 ‘Am I in Heaven?’

 You asked yourself, then you whimpered in pain, and asked with a frown out loud,

 “Who are you?.. my guardian angel?”

For you, had never seen Ghost without his mask. Ghost let out a small smile, and held onto your face once again, and replied softly,

 “No lass, you’re my guardian angel.”

You gawked in realization, you knew that voice all too well.

 “Simon?”

Ghost nodded, 

 “It’s me.”

Tears filled your eyes, as the whole situation in front of you came clear, he saved your life, he woke you up.

 “You… you s-saved my life?”

Your voice cracking got him crying again as he nodded,

 “It was payback for all this time… I’m sorry.”

 You stifled down a groan of pain as you chuckled, and reached out to touch his adorning face,

 “Don’t apologize… you don’t owe me anything.”

He leaned into your touch, and was about to ask you what it was that you needed, until they heard and saw two medical helicopters come into view. Price informed them all immediately before they shot it down in fear that it might be an enemy attack,

 “I called for help, one for her and one for us, they’ve arrived. Let’s go.”

Ghost right away told you,

 “Let them come and get you-“

You whined in pain as your held onto his vest tightly and pleaded,

 “No! No, please take me, hold me! Don’t let me go!”

 Ghost held his hands over yours and questioned,

 “Then what do you want me to do? Tell me my lass, I’m right here.”

 Your eyes flickered to his lips them to his eyes, and repeated the action a couple more times, afraid to request your deepest desire that moment. But Ghost read your mind, and pulled you in for a soft kiss. Not that long ago he harshly pressed his lips onto yours, breathing his air into your lungs, feeling your cold and unmoving lips against his, but now, your lips moved in sync with his as your tongue danced with his, he felt your breath hit his face and fight for slight dominance. But soon air was now needed for the both of you as your undying love and passion took it away, you pulled away first and gave Ghost a last soft peck before requesting,

 “Take me, please. I want you with me the whole time.”

 Ghost nodded approvingly and kissed your head, before slipping on his mask. You then wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as he carefully lifted you up in bridal style, hushing your pained cries with whispers of love and comfort, speaking the sweetest words,

 “I’m right here… you’re going to be ok love… Hold on, we’re almost there.”

 Once inside they medical team strapped you and began to separate Ghost from you to work on you, but your killer grip on his hand held him in place by your side, especially your words filled with love and desperation of losing him,

 “Simon don’t let me go, I don’t want to lose you.”

 The medical team saw your persistence, and thick tears that rolled down your eyes because they wanted to take him away, so in the end they let him stay, (they won’t admit it but Ghost’s intimidating stance and deadly stare made them agree to let him stay with you, worried that he might give them all a beating for making you cry)

Ghost sat beside your laying body, and dried your tears with his thumb as his other hand caressed your head, watching you fight the urge to close your eyes. Through the mask he kissed your lips and cheek, and told you to close your eyes before he promised,

 “I will be right here the whole time.. I won’t ever let you go, love. I won’t you leave me… you’re my guardian angel.”

[amymbona]

hii omg your posts are on my feed ALL THE TIME and you seem like the sweetest person ever, it’s so cute. do you think you could write a blurb or wtv of patrick where he’s not aggressive and/or disgusting? 😭 i’ve seen sooo much and i need to tell myself that he wouldn’t be like that. thank you sm <3

AWWW you're so sweet I wanna kiss you :333

Patrick is definitely, in my eyes, in a dire need of gentle treatment. Like he's a sexual beast, he'd rearrange your organs and this or that and whatever 🙄🙄🙄 but imagine making love with that gay.

He's actually under you this time, heavy eyes, hands struggling to get a full grip on your body. You look like a real goddess above him, your boobs bouncing with each little movement, hanging over his face like the sun and the moon, completely stealing his attention. Your wet cunt squelches as you sensually lift yourself up on his cock only to fully slam yourself back down, letting the hard, stiff length bury all the way inside yourself. His pink, burning tip repeatedly hits the spongy ring of your cervix, hips lifting in a desperate attempt to push himself deeper into you - not that he'd want to leave you bruised and destroyed, yes, it would look wonderful in his eyes - but this time, he's merely looking to be as close to you as possible. Your two bodies, in his mind, need to be merged together, need to become one and never disconnect again.

"Darling - fuck - more, please, more," Patrick quite literally begs under you, not caring that any last hints of his tough boy persona are slipping away. Tonight, you're not doing the submissive - dominance tango, no, tonight, the two of you are waltzing together in a dance full of love and affection.

"Mhm, right there," you nod with a hum, palms finding steady place on Patrick's bare chest. That way, you can angle yourself better on his cock and allow it to hit all the spots precisely.

Each moan of yours goes straight into Patrick's head, only fuelling his desire for you, not just your body but you - his girlfriend - as a whole. "You're so beautiful, so good for me."

He loves you like nobody ever before. Actually, he doesn't think he has ever been in love before meeting you. You're everything he ever needed, everything he ever longed for, all in flesh and all his.

"God damn, I love you," he sighs, unable to fully grasp the reality of the situation, that you're actually here. His palms find place on your hips, not staying for too long as they roam over your thighs and ass and then up the whole length of your arched back. It's like he's touching you for the first time again, like he's discovering you for the first time. And he fucking loves it. "You're so unreal."

In response, you prolong the movement on your hips, lifting yourself in small circles before fully dipping down. Your lips press against Patrick's, in a slow, sensual kiss, exchanging all the messages that were left unsaid between the two of you. "This real enough?"

"Mhm," Patrick only hums into your mouth, too busy trying to overpower your tongue with his. His mind is absolutely clouded with the images of you, the feel of your beautiful cunt squeezing his hard cock and milking him, not caring at all whether he actually comes into your womb or not. And, believe me, he'd love to.

[allwormdiet]

Shell 4.7

Thank god, characters I can tolerate

This whole situation feels really dire, Bakuda's immediately establishing herself as a different kind of threat than Lung or even the Wards and Glory Girl. The Undersiders can't fight their way out of this one

Yeah this was fucking crazy fast. She went on a recruitment drive and got a ton of bodies, willing and unwilling (which we're getting to) in like a week, and turned the storage facility into a death trap to boot. She's alarmingly good at what she does.

This is a really creepy and cool beat for Bakuda

...Shame she's still wearing a Bomberman costume as she's doing it

God but her variety of bombs are so disquieting. Black hole bombs, time stop bombs, liquefy bombs?

God this is so fucked, what a horrific situation to be put in as a civilian. What a horrific situation to face for the Undersiders; do they have it in them to crack an old man upside the head if it means living a little while longer?

(Also come on, you don't have to specify that it was an Eastern language, just say she doesn't know what the language is)

God this is terrifying. Like, we've seen this isn't the same kind of cape fight as before, Bakuda did most of her work before the battle even started and turned the whole battlefield into her asset; Lung didn't have the chance to do that and the only thing the Wards did along these lines was Vista, which was improvised and also more about defense and disruption than offense and terror

God this is such a dire situation. I know I've said some variation on this a few times but what a dramatic moment of escalation. Bakuda makes herself into such a massive, deadly threat, not just with her power but with her command over others. Obviously I know they're making it out of this alive, but for the life of me I didn't know how until they actually pulled it off

Current Thoughts

I like the threat escalation that comes with Bakuda. Serial escalation is a recurring issue in a lot of stories, and that might end up the case with Worm, but for now it feels like a very reasonable domino effect. Bakuda was holding position while Lung was there to boss her around; Lung isn't there to boss her around, which means that the bomb Tinker is free to do what she wants, and oh look it involves a shitton of bombs

This was a nail biter for fucking sure though, let's keep going so we can get a whiff of catharsis before too long

[whumpshaped]

Concept: beck becoming anemic after being fed on for a while and helle being thrown because huh, that had never happened before? Saw it as a side effect in your guide and was like OOH

not terribly long after this

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, sickfic i guess, blood transfusion, hospital setting, needles

Tired, tired, tired, always so fucking tired. Beck thought he was going to go mad with this constant, mind-numbing exhaustion. At first, he really assumed it was just the monotonity of his dire situation. He'd heard of people getting used to bad situations, then eventually their bodies shutting down 'out of nowhere'. It was never out of nowhere, of course. Prolonged abuse like that would've taken a toll on anyone's body.

But he tried to push through it, given he had no solution or end in sight. More sleep, as much as he could get away with while working during the day and entertaining a vampire during the night. More coffee, as much as he could drink without his anxiety skyrocketing and sabotaging his work. More fresh air even, something he had been stubbornly disregarding for the first 25 years of his life.

It didn't work. His skin continued to get paler, if that was even possible, his heart continued to act up, which he'd chalked up to the coffee, and he kept getting winded from the three flights of stairs leading up to his apartment. Even Helle's mild annoyance was slowly turning into proper concern.

"You will go to the doctor tomorrow," they announced one night. Beck groaned, but didn't argue.

"Okay."

"And I am not feeding from you tonight."

Well... that was good news, at least. "Do I really look that bad?" Helle sighed, almost exasperated, as though Beck should've known how heavy this had been weighing on their unbeating heart or whatever. Maybe he did look that bad, from the outside. "S-sorry. Thank you for, um... caring," he finished quietly, unsure of the wording.

They scoffed. "I am not condemning myself to drinking from some sick human." They grabbed his phone from the table and shoved it into his hands. "You should actually look up your symptoms. Now."

"Helle, I don't know how to explain this... online medical stuff is not the best source of–"

"That is why you are going to the doctor tomorrow. But until then–" They nodded towards the phone, still looking at him expectantly. "I want to know, too. What I can potentially expect. Is it deadly? Do I need to be looking for a new human? These are important things, you know."

Beck unlocked his phone and started typing in the name of the most trustworthy page in this realm of the internet that he could think of. He wondered whether Helle had ever had to deal with a long-term bloodbag getting a little too sick. Or had they always been a one-off kinda vampire? Surely, they should've been aware that this sort of thing could have severe health complications.

"So?" God, they sounded so impatient.

"Whatever it is, I'm not gonna die from it tonight. I swear."

Helle rolled their eyes and continued pacing. Why were they anxious about this? He should've been the one pacing and fearing for his life! And if he had been able to muster up the energy for it, he would've been.

"Anaemia," he said after a few more minutes. "That's the most likely, and um... it... it would make sense, I suppose. I probably should've thought about that..."

"Anaemia," Helle repeated, lost in thought. They didn't say anything for a long moment, and Beck didn't know whether that was a good or a bad sign. "I am not waiting until tomorrow. Get dressed."

"Wh– what?"

"I said get dressed."

It wasn't often that Helle sounded so serious. Whenever they did, Beck always got this sense of impending doom, like something utterly terrible was going to happen. What else could make an immortal, aloof vampire act so... weird?

He silently got up from the sofa and went to his bedroom, putting on some random clothes and a mask as quickly as he could. Was this thing deadlier than he realised? Had Helle lost many bloodbags to severe anaemia before? He didn't know, he was too afraid to ask, and he chose to believe it was simply an out of touch vampire's buyer's remorse.

"Are we going to a hospital?" he asked timidly as he stepped out of the bedroom, and Helle nodded. "In the middle of the night?"

"Are there no emergency care facilities in the whole of the city?" they snapped, and Beck decided to just let them do whatever they wanted. The worst that could happen to him in an ER was a bit of a scolding for wasting time. The worst Helle could do? Well. He knew which one he was going to choose.

He just hoped Helle wasn't about to threaten any nurses in the name of his... health.

-

Severe anaemia. Blood transfusion.

Beck stared at the nurse as they brought out the needle to take a sample of his blood, still in a daze when it pierced his skin. If Helle hadn't trained him better, he might've jerked his arm away.

What was going on?

The charmed employees gave no reaction to Helle's little joke about his blood being 'A plus, I mean, positive', just as they gave none to their presence in general. They moved through protocol as though everything was normal, giving Beck a rundown on what was about to take place and how.

"It could take up to four hours, but we might help it along a little. It's a wonder you were walking around like this without... well, dropping dead."

Beck gave a nervous chuckle. "Um, yeah, I guess... I don't know, I thought I was just not getting enough sleep."

The nurse gave him a look. "Of course. I assume the vampire bite scars on your wrist have nothing to do with the anaemia."

Right. He forgot that she could just... see that. "Uh..."

"I'm not here to judge, you're neither the first nor the last victim I treat. But it's good to be honest with healthcare professionals, yeah? I know there's a bit of a stigma around it in certain places, but the emergency room is not one of them."

Beck nodded mutely. He didn't dare look at Helle. Despite them causing the anaemia in the first place, he had to admit that he was grateful to them for forcing him to come in. Who knew how long he would've continued walking around like that? Maybe he would've dropped dead.

Once he was left alone in the room, Helle cleared their throat. "Well..."

"Thank you," he said without much prompting, knowing perfectly well that was what the vampire wanted to hear. It was easier to say now, when he actually felt grateful, as opposed to all the times when they wrung the words from him through sheer terror. "I wouldn't have come in without you. Definitely not to the emergency room, but... not even to my GP."

Helle leaned against the wall with a smile on their face. They seemed pleased. "Oh, do continue. I love praise like that."

"Will you stay? For the... the entirety of the four hours?" He nodded towards the needle, shifting uncomfortably. "I, um... I could use the distraction. Please."

"Are you afraid of needles?"

"Could you sound a little less excited about it?"

Helle shook their head, the amusement never leaving their face. "You do know you will get transfusions a lot, yes? I mean, most likely. Bloodbags and thralls get them a lot."

"Could you not remind me?" he asked, even whinier.

They laughed, then walked over and sat in the other comfortable chair next to his. "Would you still like me to stay?"

"If you're just gonna make it worse, then, then maybe not," he muttered. "No, wait– I changed my mind, I don't care. You can make it worse. I just don't– I don't wanna be alone."

"Oh, I have full permission?" They leaned over and poked the tube a little, and Beck almost yanked his arm away. Again.

"D-don't mess with the needle!" God, he was so trapped. He couldn't just run away with an IV in his arm. "I meant– I don't care what you say, but don't– don't do that! Please!"

"But it looks so tasty. I could rip it out and use it as a straw."

"Okay, maybe I do want you to leave."

Helle grinned, very satisfied with their own performance. "I am quite good at making others uncomfortable, am I not? It is a skill I have perfected over three hundred years."

Beck could only nod, miserable and exhausted. "Can you... not put all that experience to use for just two minutes? Respectfully."

"Two minutes? My darling, darling Beck. You want me to sit here and chat away for four hours." They sighed dramatically. "But yes, I suppose I could dial it back a little. Just for you."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump

[cabinofimagines]

Near Death Experience

I changed the text a bit from the request, but this is what worked for me! Pairing: Poly!Fierrochase x gn!reader, Alex Fierro x reader x Magnus Chase Request: Uh, hi. This is my first request so i don't know how to start, but can you make a poly!Fierrochase one? Maybe add a little bit of angst where the reader nearly dies in the mortal realm but suddenly Sam takes the reader to Valhalla (Sorry i suck at spelling cuz English id my second language) but Alex and Magnus doesn't know that and sobs themselves to sleep and becomes a lil' depressed until they see the reader at breakfast the next morning? If you can ily and thank you! If you can't it's fine and thank you and ily regardless :) Word count: 1.1k Warnings: mentions of death etc. -Asnyox

The day had started just fine, you were hanging with your lovers for most of it, going on a date. It wasn’t much of a date, as you three mostly decided to walk around Boston for the day. Away from Hotel Vahalla, away from other friends or duties at the Chase place. However neither of your lovers had expected to find you, passed out, after saying goodbye. 

Sam had been the way to inform them. Apparently you were caught off guard when you were making your way back to the Chase place, and you had been lucky enough to have stumbled upon Sam afterwards. Magnus couldn’t move fast enough to your location, and somehow he had felt like he had been too late, even if you were still alive, but unconscious. 

“Look, if I had been around-” Magnus started but Alex gripped his shoulder. 

“You weren’t,” Alex glared at Magnus, “You couldn’t have been! So don’t fucking blame yourself when you better worry about (Y/n).” Alex took a shuddering breath, “I will not grief- let you grief when they’re not yet dead.” She had been holding on, keeping up her appearance thus far, but it was crumbling. Alex sighed, holding back the tears she could feel behind her eyes, “Just focus on regaining energy, maybe they need more healing.” 

Magnus wasn’t a stranger to losing a loved one, but it had become rarer. He knew now that he could heal people, and that’s all you needed to get round, right? When he was around pain wouldn’t last long- yet somehow he hadn’t been enough to heal you. There weren’t any physical wounds, but why hadn’t you woken yet? Magnus wasn’t entirely stunned- he had noticed that when he tried to heal you, he hadn’t caught any glimpses of your memories and consciousness. Magnus normally didn’t have control over it happening, but when bringing one back from the brink of death if had always happened, and yet, with you, it hadn’t. Were you too far gone? Or did Magnus know you too well to need to catch your memories?

Alex didn’t want to face the reality- the fact that even in this world of gods, you might die. Alex had seen the impossible happen again and again, yet right now the possibility of losing you seemed so real. And she didn’t face any of this- not yet, not when you were still breathing. She wouldn’t mourn, cry, panic until you were truly six feet under. She had to be strong, she’s always had to be strong. 

It took you three days to wake up. Throughout these days you were never alone, Magnus and Alex took shifts, barely able to put up with the other while you were struggling. It wasn’t t that they blamed each other- it was their own inabilities to face their feelings and be vulnerable while you weren’t yet gone. You wouldn’t be gone is what they both wanted to believe, but crying over your unconscious form together was too close to admitting the dire situation. There was strength in denial. 

And then your eyes shifted, your mouth felt dry but your body didn’t hurt. You were uncomfortable- that was sure, but as you tried to move your arm to rub your eyes you were met with resistance. As you stretched your hand you notice another hand holding it tightly. Softly, you heard Magnus’s voice whisper your name, and you wanted to respond but it came out as a groan. The warmth- oh, the hand holding yours had been sweaty- left your hand, and you moved your fingers, bringing your arm to your face and finally rubbing your eyes, ridding it of some grub that had seemed to keep them closed. 

As you opened your eyes the room seemed too bright, and for a second you considered you had, somehow, arrived in Heaven. But, luckily, Magnus’s face disproved that theory. 

He helped you up, and at the same time Alex made his way into the room, carrying a tray. As his eyes looked at you, he moved quickly, putting down the tray next to your bed and helping Magnus to sit you up. 

As you drank your water, Alex realized he had been crying. He no longer needed to be strong, because you were back and breathing. There were still things to worry about but your imminent death had passed- and that allowed him the breather he needed to feel the emotions he had been denying himself for the past few days. 

Your glass was discarded- whether by your own hands or by Alex grabbing it as you finished neither of you know, but you are quickly engulfed in a hug. 

“Never do this again.” Alex demanded but you knew you couldn’t promise it, so you simply hummed in response. Magnus hesitantly joined the hug, not wanting to overwhelm you as you had just recovered, but he didn’t want to stay back either. After a moment you broke apart, although neither of your lovers let go of you entirely. Alex had unexpectedly kept his hand on yours, while Magnus had moved to sit next to you on the bed, entangling his arm with yours. 

“Sam said she didn’t know what got you,” Magnus said, staring at you unwaveringly, “but for some reason my healing didn’t work afterwards. Do you remember?” Your brain was still lacking any comprehensive thought, so you simply shook your head. You genuinely didn’t remember what happened, but it might come back to you. Magnus sighed, but did not press. He had hoped that maybe there was a reason, a simple ‘Oh this Norse creature cancels out healing magic’ but there wasn’t one. Yet, somehow he didn’t find himself caring too much, as he could feel your breath next to him.   It had been a bad time for your lovers, but they would get over it sooner rather than later. You hoped this would be the last time such a thing would happen, but you could never know, and in Valhalla your lovers were face to face with death every day, and eventually you would learn to just be grateful for the days that pass without injury. You only live once, after all. 

[miguelswifey04]

Reader locks Miguel out of his computer system... what would he do?

he may or may not be pissed but we shall see!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

miguel had taught you everything you needed to know as his most trusted personal assistant besides lyla, his AI. you were an expert and very knowledgeable in computer science, so, the fact that you accidentally had locked miguel out of his computer system…was something you would have never seen it coming. you panicked as you felt your heart drop to your stomach as you frantically tapped away on your watch, calling margo kess.

“margo! i fucked up. i accidentally locked miguel out of his computer system.” you didn’t know if you were going to have a full blown panic attack or pass out on the spot but what you’ve done was something very serious and carried dire consequences. margo picked up immediately as she saw you incoming call, and listened to your panicked tone, “you what??? how?”

“i-i don’t know! i just accidentally clicked something and—boom, it locked me out..” you had your watch on speaker as you tried every little possible thing to try to log back in to miguel’s computer system without letting him know. miguel left you to look after his computers and keep an eye out for any malicious activity as he was away on a mission with peter b and jess. margo hummed in response, “i’m on my way! stay put!!” lyla soon appeared on your right shoulder as she let out a loud gasp…seeing a huge “error: locked out” on the computer display.

“oh god, girl, what happened? you know it’s hard to lock him out of his computer system..” lyla said in a worried tone as she also went straight to work as she noticed your frantic demeanor trying to reset the computers but it was no use. margo soon came to your aide as she ran around the scanner room trying to see if any attempt you all made would soon unlock the computer system. together, you delve into troubleshooting strategies, exploring various methods to regain access to the computer system. margo, utilizing her technical expertise, offers insight and suggestions, while lyla provides automated assistance based on her vast knowledge.

however, despite your collective efforts, the lock remains steadfast, presenting a significant challenge. as time passes, concern and worry begin to creep in, knowing how crucial miguel’s mission is and how much he relies on his systems.

just as frustration begins to mount, the sound of hurried footsteps resonates in the room as miguel arrives. he swiftly assesses the situation, his sharp eyes scanning the screen and observing the collaborative effort that had been made in his absence.

with a mix of determination and skill, even though he clicked his tongue in frustration and annoyance—miguel takes control, his fingers flying across the keyboard. using his deep understanding of computer systems, he troubleshoots the lock, employing his expert knowledge to bypass the obstacle that had hindered your efforts.

as the seconds tick by, miguel’s efforts pay off, and the computer system gradually relinquishes its locked state. with a sigh of relief, the system opens up, granting miguel full access once more.

miguel’s gaze shifts to the team gathered around him, gratitude shining in his eyes. he acknowledges each of you for your efforts and teamwork, appreciating your commitment and willingness to help despite the temporary setback.

“i didn’t show you everything but these were a few tricks i had to use to reboot the system," he says sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude. "thank you, margo, lyla, and especially you. your collaboration made all the difference." margo soon waved goodbye and left you be—alone with miguel while lyla slighted glitched out into thin air. you felt yourself get nervous as miguel’s gaze lingered over your body. with a few deep breaths in you explained, “i’m sorry miguel. i know you’re always busy and i always seem to be causing issues when i’m supposed to be-”

“it’s fine, i’m not mad plus that wasn’t the first time i had to do something like that…it was nerve-wracking but we did it,” he placed a supportive hand on your shoulder as his eyes seem to crinkle when he gave you a reassuring smile, “thank you because of you, i’m always able to do my absolute best.”

[friendsyoyo]

gettin intuitive

psychic headcanon babble for the mother 1 crew (aka just ninten and ana) because i figure someone out there is interested

i preface this with the knowledge that MOTHER 1 has the most mentions of PSI in the narrative out of the three games (mother 3 can be semi-debated). that ALSO BEING SAID, these are children and i don’t think they have god tier abilities. this ain’t the x-men—in fact the closest kid you got to Jean Grey is 11 years old. so this is just for fun

ninten

moves-wise: i love you ninten but you suck compared to everyone else. in fact, he doesn’t like that people are much better at PSI than him (especially not some girl he just met!). maybe he goes through a phase where he tries to improve, but it’s just not in his nature (or attention span) to do so. that being said, everyone’s cooked without him thanks to his prowess in assist PSI. sure, he can’t light people on fire, but he can make sure your next frying pan swing hurts bad. the added benefit of escaping into the fourth dimension is something that makes him very unique (or in teddy's words, "a one-trick pony") and makes him brag a bit, because what is ninten if not prideful? it’s not too bad though, because it’s dorky! there’s a childish glee to it, like a kid doing a cartwheel in front of his parents. even lloyd admits it makes ninten look lame, but “he’s not one to talk” either. like ana, he does possess telepathy, but this is the one ability i hc him to surpass her in. i really do think that with given time, he could be a very strong telepath! i think of telepathy as a spectrum rather than “transmitter and receiver” because the characters do portray differing levels of what they can do; basic communication with animals being on the lower end to near omnipotence on the highest extreme. ninten is no god for sure, but based on what we see in the game and novels, he “receives” more than he “transmits,” which can lead to very disorienting conversations. it’s an added level of hyper-vigilance he must deal with, but at least it's helpful in combat and against police officers. i wouldn’t say it’s textbook telepathy angst, but more like “can you shut the fuck up right now im trying to think” when no one has uttered a word in the past 2 minutes. too much at once leads to snappy responses, unintentionally looking daggers at someone, and unbridled rage when fighting lamps. he's best left alone in times like this. he gets tuckered out easily, bc thinkin's a lot of work. world's eepiest boy after massive boss fights

ana

like i said, she ain’t jean grey. buuuut, if i had to rank the most powerful psychics in the mother series, she’d be third to kumatora + her family and giegue. she is very disciplined in everything she does, only using it in dire or noble situations like her parents taught her to. in the game, she has a very good relationship with both her parents and religion, which is unlike many headcanons i tend to see.

they were both very involved, which led to her having near perfect control at such a young age. her father would preach about the responsibility she carries (because, yknow, great power) while her mother would find the best way to not let her skills go unmanaged. she starts off with precise telekinesis, fast healing LifeUp β, and manageable telepathy, but when she’s away from home and begins to learn more intense and formidable abilities, ana feels completely lost and shocked to her core. she hates violence, especially when she must enact it herself. with each new power she awakens, she feels a sense of betrayal towards her parents, wondering if she is straying from their teachings. worst of all, she fears over reliance on them the way ninten is (teleporting like it's no ones business). therefore, ana is very psychically repressed and mentally limits herself from the use of offensive PSI outside of battle.

she eventually realizes that although she didn't choose to be born with these abilities, they are a part of her and "God's plan." as long as there is someone to protect, she finds solace in being able to use them for the greater good.

i have so much more to say but it's 2:51 am and i feel like this post is a bit too long now. remember to hit that like button and subscribe

[loserlvrss]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 s. hanbin ( 성한빈 )

synopsis | after your car breaks down in the middle of a winter storm, you have a bright idea on how to keep warm.

pairing : hanbin x fem!reader genre : oneshot, smut, established relationship, light argument, light comedy warnings : unprotected sex, language, pet names, slight exhibitionism, a little rough for a second, hair pulling word count : 1702

authors note : i love this man so bad

“You’re joking,” You spit out a pained laugh, “Babe, stop fucking around and just turn the car on.” 

The man in the driver’s seat emphasized pulling the key out, putting it back in, and turning it—only for the engine to try to turn over with all its might, and then off. 

“Babe…” You were in complete and utter disbelief. How could this happen? Of course, it had to be on a day when you needed to be somewhere: your parents house in 20 minutes, to be exact. “Are you kidding?” 

He deadpanned, “I really wish I was.” a disbelief smile cracking against his features as his hands gripped the wheel. 

“You hate my parents that much, huh?” 

“Do you even like them?” 

“Touché.” You huffed, falling back against the seat, arms crossing. You looked out the windshield that had started fogging because of your breaths (and conversation), watching as the snow danced through the air. It would’ve been beautiful, and you did think it was…about 5 minutes ago when the car was still moving, heat blasting. 

You sighed, coming to terms with what had happened, “I’ll call them. You call the tow place.”  

And you did, asking your dad if he’d come pick you up—he said no, and you would’ve laughed in his face if you knew he wasn’t actually being serious. He blamed it on the snow, saying your sister had taken the truck to get last minute preparations for the party, and that, evidently, a small car wouldn’t be of any help. 

After you hung up the phone with a frown, you listened to the way your boyfriend spoke to the towing place. He sounded so calm despite the situation possibly being dire. He explained how you were only a couple of minutes from the town your parents lived in and that they weren’t willing to come pick you two up. He even double-checked all of the questions the man was asking him: does it roll-over? Do the lights turn on? Is it smoking?

You didn’t know your boyfriend had that side to him. Of course, you knew Hanbin was mature, that’s why you liked him initially—besides his looks, you’ve got eyes after all—But him taking control over the situation was…hot on a below-freezing day. 

He hung up the phone, catching your gaze. You’d been staring, and he’d noticed. 

“What’s up?” 

“You’re kinda hot.” You blurted so nonchalantly. 

He laughed, “Thanks, I’d hope you think that way. I am your boyfriend.” 

Your head shook slowly, eyes still wide from the staring, “Lucky me.” 

He started to open the door after popping the hood of the car, which made you slightly jump back to reality at the sudden noise. “I’ve got to check something, you stay here though.” 

“Do you think the car will blow up?” You only-kind-of joked, “I hope so,” 

He gave you a knowing look, “Shut up and just stay here, babe. It’s not gonna blow up.” 

“Bummer.” Your eyebrows knit at the command, “Do you even know anything about cars besides how to drive one?” 

“Well, you were too busy staring, but he did tell me what to look for over the phone.” 

You replied in a duh-tone, “Well, excuse me,” A slight huff left his lips at your response, and you shivered, only now realizing that the door was slightly cracked, “God forbid I ask a simple question…and can you close the damn door or get out? If you haven’t noticed, it’s fucking snowing.” 

Hanbin looked outside and then to you, mocking the feeling of being shocked, “Oh my God, it is snowing! Thanks for telling me, captain fucking obvious.” 

“H-holy shit,“ You remarked, feeling anger at the situation, “Just get out, I don’t want to fight.” 

He hummed, almost like he was debating your proposition, “Yeah, because I don’t know if you were still mentally aware when he said this, but they’ve gotten a lot of calls tonight. It will be like an hour before they even get someone out to us. But let’s not fight. That would really dampen our holiday spirits, wouldn’t it?” 

Without a shred of thought, your hand came up and smacked against your forehead. Hanbin snorted loudly at the action, dissipating whatever resolve he had brewing for you. 

His hand reached out, taking yours off your face, “It’s okay, we’ll just go home after this and watch a movie. Maybe we even have some hot chocolate in the cabinet—I bought some a couple of weeks ago.” Your cheek found its way between your teeth, “I’ll be right back.” 

“Don’t freeze to death���That would really dampen my holiday cheer.” 

He didn’t freeze to death; he just slipped and fell comically on the way back, like one would on a banana peel in a stupid cartoon. A loud announcement of “fuck!” following. 

After making sure he got up, you burst out laughing, a scowl on his face. Though he started to giggle once back in whatever residual warmth the car had to offer. 

“Are you okay?” You asked as he shut the door beside him, noticing the wet patches on his jeans now as the snow melted. 

“Wet and cold.” 

You mumbled, cracking another joke, “I know what you can make wet,”

However, it must've not been that bad of an idea because now you couldn’t think about how awful you were feeling, your head clouded with the pleasure of your boyfriend under you. 

“Fuck, y/n,” He sighed, earning your fleeting attention. His voice trailed off into nearly a whisper, “You’re so perfect.” 

His hands gripped your hips painfully tight, sure to leave his prints in its wake. He pulled you chest to chest, hearts beating in unison through the fabric blocking you. 

You moaned, rocking in tandem with his small thrusts into you. 

“So much better than awkward small-talk with your parents. I’m glad this—fuck—car broke down.” You tried your best to laugh, “Did me a favor.” 

Though the thrusts were sloppy, all you could feel was the warmth and security he brought upon you. He held you close, caged onto him, and whispered sweet-nothings into the skin of your neck. He made you feel better despite the pleasure, your heart swelling with affection that only he could deserve. 

He said something along the lines of: I love you, and you were made for me, and so wet, so tight. 

Hanbin wasn’t even cold anymore, and he had long forgotten about the ache in his hip from falling. This was better. This was worth it. 

The feeling of you wrapped around him, the light kisses you kept pressing against the side of his face, the claw marks left in the wake of thrusts that hit just right inside you. 

It was all worth the inconvenience, in hindsight. 

You felt the bubbling sensation in your lower abdomen, pushing back against his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” You swore, staring down at his lidded eyes—the ones that were locked on you. His fingers dug into your hips, assisting your attempt at quickening the pace. 

He looked so unforgivingly good under the slight moonlight shining through the window. His lightly tanned skin glimmered with sweat, tattoo on full display as the collar of his shirt rode down. His hair was now tousled from the grip you’d had on it earlier, and he looked so utterly ruined. 

You almost felt shy over such a sight. 

You couldn’t possibly show up to your parents house anymore. 

As his hands guided you up and down his length, you dove in to kiss the exposed skin of his neck, overwhelmed and trying to get ahold of yourself. You were building up to your peak quickly with this newfound vigor. 

“Don’t hide from me,” He must’ve heard your inner monologue, “I wanna see you when you come, baby, that’s my favorite sight. You always look so pretty, falling apart because of me. I need to see it. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?” 

You nodded into his neck, still sucking marks along the underside of his jaw. A weak moan escaped your lips and went directly into his ear, butterflies swarming inside him. 

The sudden movement made your stomach drop—in a good way—cunt clenching around him as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you back upright. 

“Look at me,” His grip got tighter, forcing your mouth open to assist with the pull, “Don’t hide from me, y/n.” He warned again, low moans now tumbling out of your mouth. 

You weren’t usually quiet, but there was something about the sorta-kinda publicity of a car that made you feel self-conscious—though you’d not seen or heard a soul. And Hanbin evidently didn’t like that. 

He let go of your hair, letting you collapse just a bit into him, now doing most—if not all—the work. “I know you’re close, babe,” 

And he was so far from being wrong. 

His hand came off your hip and snaked between your bodies, rubbing circles along your clit. You squeaked, forcing your eyes to stay open with whatever willpower you had left and looking at him. Just as he desired. 

“C’mon,” His voice was low, intimately so, “Let go for me, baby.” 

Oh, you did, with or without his words of encouragement; your ears were ringing so loud you could barely comprehend. 

Your head felt fuzzy but clear enough to hear the groan he let out, nails now digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he came too. 

Hanbin finally let you fall into his shoulder again, chest rising and falling abnormally as you both let reality back in. He gently stroked your back as you kissed his cheek, a reminder you were still awake and aware. 

He liked the reassurance of your body, knowing that only he could make you feel the way you do. And vice versa. 

“Shit,” He slightly laughed as lights filled the car from behind. He saw it approaching through the rearview mirror; however, he didn’t process that it was the tow truck. 

You jolted up, squinting from the brightness. There was no way you were hiding now, but you had to do what you had to do to keep warm.  

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 / 25 all rights reserved. 

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[simpxxstan]

oh my god 300 followers?! thank you to everyone who's chosen to follow my page. i hope i don't let you down while you're with me on this website/app. let's have a fun time together!! <333

here's a snippet from nobody else (jww oneshot): part 2 to celebrate this moment:

(here's the track moodboard to set the pace, cause part 2 is so much vulnerable softness rather than the hard edges of part 1)

harsh language under the cut, and spoilers. don't read if you want to wait for the whole thing at once (although i can warn you it's going to take some time)

“Listen, we can still call this off. I don’t want to be an object of your pity.”

“Pity? I wanted to help you, Y/N. There’s a difference, or is your brain too ego-clouded to understand?”

“Wonwoo, I could marry anyone-”

“And yet, it was me you came to!”

“It was convenient! I couldn’t really marry … say, Jisung, when my parents had proof that we’d been sleeping together!”

“Oh, so it’s Jisung now-”

“It was a damn example!” You’re shouting now, but his voice is still low and hoarse. It creates goosebumps on your skin. 

“If that’s who you want to marry, you can go ahead. You better know that I have no desire to be wedded to you tomorrow!” He takes a step forward, and you step back. “What do you think I am, huh? Your toy? Today you want to fuck, tomorrow you want to end things, the next day you come begging at my door to blow your mind with my dick, and the day after that you want to get fucking married? You don’t think keeping up with your plot twists are stressful for me? Do you think I’m getting off on your mood swings? I am helping you, because you’re in a dire situation. Don’t you dare spin this narrative to anything else, because it is not charity or love for you that’s motivating me to step into this hell of a marriage that I can see coming.” 

With every word he utters, he steps closer and closer, and you keep walking back until your back hits the wall. And then he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that you can see the exact dilation of his pupils even beyond his glasses. “I don’t need your help, Wonwoo. I’m not a damsel in distress.” He closes his eyes for a second, breathing in. When his eyes do open again, they’re different- darker, yet with more clarity, less angry and yet more dangerous. He leans down, and for a second, for a delusional mindless moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. You part your lips, waiting for impact, as he tilts his head ever so slightly, all while staring into your soul.

“I don’t give a fuck about you, Y/N. I don’t care. I’m just repaying an old debt.”

Then he steps back and picks up his phone from the coffee table. “I’ll mail it to you. Don’t be a brat and make sure to read it.”