#yeah i know the gun and the way hes holding it make no sense i drew it in like 5 minutes hop off | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

retrievablememories · 1 year

Text

cherry bomb | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.

genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!

a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 2

CHERRY BOMB

don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.

virgins get in free!

THIS FRIDAY

NOV 3, 20XX

[address here]

"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"

"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."

camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."

"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”

“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”

“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."

"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.

"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."

your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.

she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”

"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."

camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."

you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."

FRIDAY, NOV 3

taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.

the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.

the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.

you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.

"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.

"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."

"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."

well, you won't argue that.

you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.

you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.

"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.

you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.

"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"

the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.

"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.

jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"

"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.

"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"

"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.

jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."

unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.

but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.

he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.

"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.

knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.

“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.

jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.

jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.

he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.

you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.

"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”

jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.

jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.

“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”

with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”

you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.

as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.

jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.

your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”

you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.

taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.

the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.

the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.

the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.

jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”

“wh-what?”

“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”

it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.

you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.

when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”

jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”

you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.

then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.

having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.

“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.

jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”

jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.

“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”

this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.

jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.

after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.

…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.

“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.

but now’s not the time to get delusional.

“no. i want more.”

jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."

“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.

you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.

you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.

you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.

“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.

“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.

you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”

sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”

he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.

his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.

“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.

“no, i—let’s go all the way.”

jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”

when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say breathlessly.

it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.

“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.

“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”

jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”

he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.

your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”

your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”

you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.

“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.

“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.

"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.

his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.

his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.

“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.

jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.

jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.

you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"

"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"

you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.

"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.

"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.

jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.

the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”

you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…

the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.

the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.

to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.

you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.

the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.

a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.

you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.

you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.

thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.

he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.

when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.

"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."

"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.

"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"

"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."

“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"

unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.

sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.

you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.

“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.

the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.

the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”

“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.

“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.

you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.

for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.

you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”

“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”

“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.

there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.

“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.

after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.

“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.

“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”

nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”

changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

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wriothesleybear · 6 months

Text

Outlaw!Boothill x Saloongirl!reader headcanons

~warnings: slight mentions of jealousy, stealing, and western stand offs that involve guns, shooting a man. Otherwise, mentions of flirting, nicknames, cheesy pickup lines from our favorite robot cowboy, pre-release Boothill, fem!reader.

~a/n: Just a quick little something due to @the-guardian-kitsune wanting me to share my thoughts on Mr. Robot Cowboy. Boothill's leaks are invading my mind while I wait for the update today. His ultimate...omg its so good! Is it bad that I get tingles when I hear the whip in his animation?

Outlaw!Boothill is the most fearsome outlaw in the town. Everyone runs to close their shops and doors when he comes into town. He's usually harassing the town sheriff with his buddies or robbing people. If someone gets on his nerves and actually has the guts to try and stand up to him, it likely ends in a stand off.

Outlaw!Boothill spends his time flirting with you when he's not busy stealing and holding up stagecoaches and trains. Always goes to your saloon, specifically for you. No one else really captured his eye except for you. Plus most of the other saloon girls are scared of him. For some reason, you're not. Hence, making him take interest in you. While everyone usually steers clear of him, you aren't afraid to talk to him.

How you guys met was he stomped his way into your saloon one day, looking for some whiskey. Seeing the most wanted outlaw, your other customers immediately fled. He plops himself down in a chair, kicking his boots up onto the table, waving his hand for a drink. "Hey little lady, you mind gettin' me some whiskey. Neat." You were already annoyed at this cowboy storming his way in your saloon, scaring your customers off and ruining your business.

Boothill looks up and notices you haven't moved from your spot behind the counter. Instead, you're crossing your arms and giving him an annoyed look. He glares at you. "Did you hear me darlin'? Whiskey. Neat." You don't move an inch, returning his glare and simply say no. He's caught a bit off guard for a second. He's used to people being too scared to stand up to him. "No?" He gets up, slowly walking towards the bar where you're at. "Do you know who I am." He points to the wanted sign on the wall nearby, his face adorns the flier. You glance at it. "Yeah. And? I don't serve rude customers. Either learn some manners or get out." Now he's thrown off his high horse. He's never had someone call him out like you did. You expected him to become more hostile, but instead, he just laughs. "Alright little lady." Since that day, he's been attracted to you. He likes the way you aren't afraid to stand up for yourself and speak your mind, especially towards him. He likes the 'feisty little lady that you are'. His own words that he used when he first asked you out.

Outlaw!Boothill teases you to get you worked up on purpose. If you really want to get him to shut up, call him "Bootie". The first time you called him that, you swear you saw his cheeks go red. Knowing the effect the nickname has on him, you use it when you're not in the mood for his teasing. But the times when you get so annoyed at his teasing that you angrily walk away, he uses his whip to grab you, pulling you right back into his arms and dipping you. Your heart skips a beat as he lowers his head to yours. You hold your breath while at a loss for words as he says, "Now where do you think you're going little lady?"

Outlaw!Boothill gets jealous when other men try to swoon you or check you out in your little saloon outfit. He is a protective boyfriend and is the type to defend your honor. So when he sees someone harassing you, he either challenges them to a stand off or he just straight up takes care of them right there in the saloon. Ugh just imagine: watching as the two men take 10 paces in opposite directions as everyone watches from the sidelines. Nerves invade your senses, worries cloud your mind about the men fighting over you. You don't want anyone to get hurt especially Boothill. Then, at the end of the countdown, both men quickly turn to each other, guns raised and they go off. Boothill is left standing as the other man falls to the floor. He walks over to you as you're left in shock. "Now darlin'. How about a kiss for your cowboy?"

Outlaw!Boothill who spoils you with his attention and gifts (which he probably stole). He gets a bit annoyed and offended when you don't accept his gifts, saying how he shouldn't steal things from others. It just goes over his head and he says "Darlin', I think you're the real criminal here since you stole my heart." This usually shuts you up. Your cheeks turn red as he smirks. Turning away from him, you quietly say, "Just.. go easy on stealing gifts for me, Bootie." He ignores your signature nickname for him and turns you to face him. Pulling you close to his chest, he says, "Whatever you say, darlin'." He gives you his signature shark tooth smile. He would never admit it but he's whipped for you. No pun intended.

#boothill #boothill headcanons #boothill x reader #Country boy I love you uwah

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writingsonsaturn · 6 months

Note

Tim having a younger girlfriend who gets princess treatment from him, she very obviously in love with Tim, and nobody at the station believes he has a girlfriend, so one day she shows up and work and everyone gets to see and meet her and see just how much she has Tim wrapped around her finger <3

Sorry if it doesn't make sense

puppy love - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: hopefully this lives up to what you were thinking!! i did my best to capture all the main elements that you wanted in the story <33

word count: 1039

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tim was notorious for being a hardass, his rough demeanor and strict ways of teaching made him seem like a total douchebag, for lack of a better word.

However, for you, he was a ball of sunshine, just don't let anyone else know that.

Tim was awoken to the deafening sound of his alarm clock, he looked over at the red numbers, the clock reading “6:00am”, he sighed and reached a hand over to turn the blaring sound off. He turned over at the movement of your sleeping body, his hand now brushing through your hair with a small smile on his lips, waking up wasn't so bad when he got to see your face every morning.

You woke up gently at the new warmth that was on your head, “do you have to leave today?” you whispered with annoyance, one eye looking at him while the other stayed shut hoping to retain some sleep “unfortunately i do, baby, but i'll be home in time for our date” he responds, leaning over and kissing your forehead.

He gets out of bed and heads for the closet putting on his uniform, once he’s done getting ready he reaches for his duty belt and gun that he keeps in his nightstand. Finally he leans over to give you one last kiss goodbye, “i love you, i’ll text you on break” you felt his lips move, “i love you too, be safe and come home to me” you respond as he walks out of the room gently shutting the door.

You shortly go back to sleep to get extra shuteye before having to go to your 9:00 am psychology class.

===

Tim made it to work early, going into the locker room and putting his duffle bag full of extra clothes and little snacks that you had snuck in there “just in case”, once he left the locker room he made his way to the debriefing room. “Hey Tim, you still owe me the 13 bucks for that burrito i bought you last week” Angela points out, while walking in behind him “ah right” he groans pulling out his wallet simply forgetting the little photo he kept of you in there.

The photo fell on the ground as Tim pulled out the cash, Angela reached down holding the picture “who is that?” she wonders while looking at the piece of paper “my girlfriend” he responds while holding out the $13, “you? You have a girlfriend?” she jokes “yeah, and i'm a millionaire” she finished sarcastically and walked away to sit down in her seat.

Tim just silently rolled his eyes and put your photo back in the safety of his wallet, after Grey gave his briefing, Angela and Nyla both started talking about Tim’s “girlfriend” the others overheard and suddenly everyone knew about Tim’s private life.

“Tim has a girlfriend?” Lucy questioned, while walking over the group and grinning. “That’s what he claims, when he was paying me back a photo slipped out of his wallet and when i asked who it was he said it was his girlfriend, but i don't know who would torture themselves like that” she explained, Nolan had his eyebrows raised “come on guys, Tim can’t be that bad” Nolan continued “he probably just doesn't like us” he smiled making the others laugh.

“Okay! Are you guys ready to stop being a bunch of highschoolers and gossiping about my love life so we can, I don't know, do our job?” Tim dead panned, they all quietly snickered, and some started getting ready to head out.

Tim heard the faint call of his name, and fast feet, “Tim! you forgot your lunch!” you spoke quickly while softly jogging towards him. “That’s what i forgot, thank you baby” Tim mentally smacked himself for forgetting the meal you had prepared for him the night before. You smiled at him, rushing as you had to get back to the campus as you had a final in 45 minutes.

Everyone looked slightly gobsmacked, realizing that Tim was in fact not lying about having a girlfriend, Angela came up to the love sick couple, “so you’re the pretty lady Tim keeps in his wallet” she spoke with playfulness, “you must be Angela! Tim talks about you all the time, im (Y/N)” you introduced yourself with a big smile. Tim smiled at you with all the love in the world, looking at you while you introduced yourself to his friends and colleagues.

“As much as i would absolutely love talking to you guys more, i have a really important test i have to go take” you explained with haste, everyone was extremely understanding and wished you good lucks, “One last thing, Tim, before you come home will you please pick up milk from the store? I used it all this morning” everyone looked at Tim awaiting his response “Yes ma’am” he complied, you kissed his cheek and gave everyone a last goodbye before leaving.

“Man she has you utterly whipped” Aaron spoke, while shaking his head, “yeah, you are so done for sir” Celina giggled. Tim looked at both of them with a stern face immediately making them shut up and get back to doing whatever they were doing.

“I'm glad you found someone Tim, you deserve a good person” Lucy quietly mentioned, Tim gave a silent nod of acknowledgement letting Lucy know that what she said meant a lot to him as she left and continued on with her duties.

Tim carried on with his day, doing paperwork, and counting the minutes until he came home to you.

Once he got off of work, he made sure he picked up milk and even got you you're favorite snack, as soon as he got home you two made dinner together and sat at the kitchen table, you told him how you’re very sure you passed your final with flying colors, and he told you about the mountains of paperwork that made him wish he was in bed watching a stupid reality show with you instead.

When it was time for bed you and Tim continued to talk about random thoughts, and your futures together before you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x younger!reader #reader insert

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antiquarianfics · 3 months

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Shoot Me

Bucky swears he doesn’t like Y/N. In fact, he’s so confident he’ll challenge this: If he likes Y/N, shoot him.

a/n: dude, idk wtf this is. it’s like that one that 70s show scene, but it’s really just a crack fic. idk. this isn’t proofed. it’s late. it’s fluffy. i made you some content. enjoy.

warnings: mentions of gun violence (super minor), not proofread at all

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

“I don’t like, Y/N,” Bucky says, voice adamant. The man is stoic, glaring at his friend who only shakes his head and laughs.

“Yeah, sure you don’t, Bucky,” Sam replies, tone laced in disbelief. After all, anyone with functioning eyeballs could look at Bucky and see that he liked Y/N. His harsh demeanor always softened around her: he smiled more, laughed more, glared less.

Bucky groaned, kicking off of the wall he’d been leaning against when Sam stands from the table he’d been sat at messing with Redwing.

“I don’t like Y/N,” Bucky reiterated as Sam only shook his head again, walking over to a tool box in the corner of the garage and beginning to rummage through it. “If I like her, shoot me.”

Right as Bucky lets the challenge slip through his lips, Sam turns on his heel to face Bucky, raising his hand in a finger gun and pointing at his friend.

“Pow.”

Bucky just stares at Sam, then his finger gun, then Sam again.

“C’mon, man. Real mature.”

Sam turns back to the toolbox and continues to rummage around for the tool he needs.

“I’m the one not being mature? You’re the one with a schoolboy crush who can’t admit he likes a girl.”

“I do not have a schoolboy crush”

“Right. You have a big macho man crush.”

Bucky scoffs, irritation growing. “Sam,” he warns.

Say lifts up the tool he evidently needs, inspects it, and returns to his seat at the table where he left Redwing and begins to fiddle with the wiring.

“Dude, just suck it up and tell her,” Sam says, ignoring Bucky’s aggression as he always does. “It’s not one sided, I can tell you that.”

Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise and he quickly—too quickly for his own liking and too quickly for someone who does not like you—sits down at the table in the seat beside Sam. Sam just smirks.

“Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Sam says and Bucky rolls his eyes, immediately standing back up and going to resume is original position leaning against the wall. “But,” Sam continues, “unlike you, I’m not stupid. I can tell.”

Bucky ignores the jab, dismissing Sam altogether. There’s no way Sam’s right.

“I don’t know, you’re pretty stupid,” a new voice cuts through the air, a teasing lilt in tone. The two men’s heads turn to the garage’s entrance to see you walking in holding a brown takeout bag and a drink carrier.

Bucky’s lips upturn slightly at your jab at Sam and his eyes soften slightly as they fall on you. Sam notices and rolls his eyes.

“Ha. Ha.” Sam says to you, but he offers you an affectionate smile which you return. “You bring lunch.” You nod and hold it up for them to see before setting it down on the table.

“I love you,” Sam says dramatically, immediately reaching for something to eat. “We’ve been out here all day.”

You laugh at his being over the top but return the sentiment. “So, what’ve you guys been talking about?” You sit down at the table and pull your drink from the drink carrier to take a sip.

Sam chuckles through a bite of hamburger: Bucky (who hasn’t yet moved) looks away. You raise your eyebrows.

“What? Did I miss something?”

Sam swallows his food and washes it down with his drink before answering.

“I shot him.”

Your eyes dart between the two.

“You what?”

“He didn’t actually,” Bucky clarified, amused and endeared by your concern.

“I fake shot him,” Sam clarifies, mimicking the handgun motion.

You scrunch your eyebrows as you attempt to make sense of this picture they’re painting. You turn to Bucky.

“You’re mad because he fake shot you?” You turn back to Sam. “Why did you fake shoot him?”

Sam is grinning like an evil mastermind at this point, Bucky is getting overly acquainted with his shoes.

“He told me to.”

“He told you to?”

“He told me to.”

“Why?” You look between the two of them.

“He said, ‘If I like her, shoot me.’ So I shot him.”

Your eyes widen at the revelation. Bucky likes someone? Who?

“Bucky likes someone?” You turn around completely to face Bucky. “Bucky, you like someone?”

Bucky closed his eyes and look up at the roof of the garage, clearly wanting to disappear from the current situation he found himself in. He ignores the question.

“Bucky, c’mon! If you like someone, you can tell me. Maybe I can help you get a date, or something.” You cringe a little at the suggestion, but you really want to know who he likes. Sure, it will absolutely devastate you if it turns out he doesn’t like you, but you just want him to be happy.

“Yeah, Bucky, maybe she can help you get a date!” Sam teases, innuendo heavy in his words. Both you and Bucky give him a look—Bucky’s warning, yours questioning.

“Just drop it, both of you,” Bucky says dejectedly.

“Just tell her, man. I’m tired of dealing with your moping,” Sam argues.

“Sam,” you say cautiously, eyeing Bucky’s uncomfortable demeanor.

“No, I’m tired of this. He,” Sam points to Bucky, “talks about you,” he points to you, “when you’re not around, and you,” he circles his finger around your face, “talk about him,” he points to Bucky, “when he’s not around. Incessantly. Now, I am going to take the rest of my lunch outside while you two figure this out. I’ll be back for Redwing later.”

You and Bucky stare helplessly as you watch Sam storm out of the garage. Once he turns the corner and is out of sight, the two of you turn to each other. He’s still leaned against the wall, you’re still uncomfortably turned around in your chair facing him.

“So, that girl you like…” You start but trail off, hoping maybe Bucky will confirm the suspicion Sam has planted in your mind but he continues to avoid looking at you. “Sam made it kind of seem like maybe she’s… me?” Your voice sounds so shy and uncertain as you ask the question. You can’t help but cringe a little.

Bucky finally looks up at you, searching your face and attempting to gauge how you might feel. He sees you cringe, though, and he sighs, looking back down at his boots. Of course, there’s no way you could ever like him like that. You notice Bucky pulling away and you start to panic.

“It’s totally okay if she is me, but it’s okay if she’s not. I don’t want you to feel like you have to say it’s me if you don’t actually have any feelings for me, but Sam did kind of make it seem that way. I mean, if you did have feelings for me, though, that wouldn’t be bad.” You’re rambling, full of nerves, but the nervous rambling does pull Bucky’s attention back to you.

“He wasn’t wrong,” Bucky finally admits quietly.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “He wasn’t?”

“No.”

“You like me?” You clarify, a grin overtaking your face.

The corner of Bucky’s mouth upturns in a smile. “Only if you like me.”

You stand up from your seat and take a few steps towards him whilst he takes a couple towards you. The two of you find yourselves toe to toe and staring at each other.

“Maybe I do.” Your eyes glance down at his lips and back to his eyes.

Bucky’s grinning now and he hums in response as he gazes down at you. The two of you feel yourself being pulled towards one another like there is some sort of magnetic force you can’t break, and, then, before you know it, your lips are on his. He kisses you softly as if he fears it isn’t real. You attempt to pour months of pent up adoration for him into the kiss. Your lips only part when you both finally need some amount of air; Bucky pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. It’s momentarily silent except for your breathing.

“You really told Sam to shoot you?” You teasingly ask, pulling away just enough to look into Bucky’s eyes.

“Only if I liked you,” he defends. He attempts to sound serious, but he can’t help the smile pulling at his lips. You nod as you briefly consider his response. Then, you make a finger gun and:

“Pow.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic

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fushiguho · 3 months

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Quite literally frothing at the mouth imagining Getou and Gojo taking turns with you but they're also desperately pining each other. On some Challengers-esce shit...

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

Getou would absolutely have your legs pressed open, his warm palms splayed across the plush underside of your thighs whilst he stretches you out, fucking you with all his weight. Fat, eager cock buried so deep inside of you, the tip leaking against your swollen cervix, wordlessly begging to fill you up.

Gojo is never too far. He's kneeled right beside you on the unkempt sheets, his cock sensitive and dripping with precum in his closed fist. Idly, he strokes himself, completely enthralled as he intently watches you gasp and writhe under his best friend. Truthfully, he hates when Getou steals you all for himself so he reaches hand down your tummy to rub at your clit, eliciting a string of helpless whines from your gaped mouth.

"Oh, fuck look at her back arch like that... you like it, baby? Do my fingers feel so good with his cock inside of you, huh? Is it too much?" Gojo coos, his voice hushed and salacious.

"Yeah, baby talk to us... feels so good doesn't it? Be our good girl 'n tell us how much you like us all over you." Getou encourages.

Your brain nearly short circuits. You don't know whether to nod or shake your head so you babble incoherently, muttering words of praise and little gasps of pleasure in hopes they'd make sense of your broken jargon. The two men share a deep chuckle between their lingering glances of mutual pining and carnal desire.

How is it possible to lose all sense of yourself at the hands of two men so quickly? So willingly? Nobody's holding a gun to your head, forcing you to do this. Yes, you like it. No, it's not too much. Or maybe it is too much and you just can't differentiate anymore because you're too drunk off cock. All you can do is hum as you nod dumbly, eyes threatening to cross while you bite back an onslaught of whimpers.

You hardly even register the way Getou draws Gojo closer by the nape of his neck, slotting his lips against his in a sloppy kiss, his cock steadily bullying its way deeper and deeper inside of your cunt. It's almost animalistic the way Gojo groans as he lolls out his tongue, eagerly tasting Getou's willing mouth from the inside, their tongues lapping against one another. Even the subtle exchange of saliva had their cocks lewdly twitching.

Getou holds Gojo's head taut as they moan into each other's mouths, the timbre of their hums like kindle to the ever-growing flame in your core. Their noses brush against one another from the abut closeness. The view above you was like nothing you've ever seen, utterly and completely peerless. Part of you wouldn't mind if this became an everyday occurrence...

I actually can’t believe I’ve never written about this duo before. It is truly a rite of passage for all Jujutsu Kaisen writers. Please let me know if you want me to expand on this concept!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

Hey, you! Did you like this? Click here for more!

#jujutsu geto #geto smut #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo geto #jjk smut #satoru gojo #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #threes0me #challengers

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chaosandmarigolds · 4 months

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Dreamscape

(canon? whats that? we go with vibes in this house. Fem!reader, based off an amazing!! ask....um this is just sadness, I'm sorry.....if you want to add more sadness listen to Chasing Cars (yeah I cry to that song 99% of the time sorry))

One day..

With a grumble, he adjusted to the sudden shift of your body weight, to where you were essentially laying over him, and out of pure habit he wrapped his arm over the small of your back- only for you to whisper a soft ‘sorry’ before standing up all the way. Which caused him to think, it was a Saturday and there weren’t any Ops he had been assigned, so there was no purpose in waking up before the sun. So with a tilt of the head, he moves to sit up, watching as you tug out the duffle bag from the couch.

Maybe when the war is over…

“Love?”

You almost jump as your fiance calls the nickname and you turn around, giving him a little smile, “Good morning.”

Simon gives you a look as he turns on the lamp and watches your mannerisms, the timidness behind every movement, “Wha’s goin on?” A valid question, what had happened was that you and Johnny were assigned to what Price lightly put as a ‘suicide mission,’ and what you didn’t want to happen was for Simon to force then add himself to it- as it would then decrease your chances of survival by that much. So you falter for a moment, trying to avert your gaze. With a panicked breath you motion to the kitchenette, “I’ll make tea! Oh! And let’s use the special type, the one we got from Inida? Yeah! Yeah-”

Of course, the echoed whisper of your name made you stop your walk and you slowly turned to face him, your face downturned, you were an awful lair, you were never sent to integrations because you hated to see people hurt. And it killed you to see him searching for an answer, to see him scared for your sake- and for the great and terrifying Simon Riley…that was saying something.

Once the smoke settles…

“You’re not going.”

“It doesn’t-” You groan and throw your head into your hands, “It doesn’t work like that, you know that.”

“No, you’re not going, ‘ll take the spot,” He was grasping at broken shards of sense because he knew the choice was set in stone that not even a sword made of the purest of intentions couldn’t crack it. “Let me talk to-”

“SIMON.”

You take a sharp breath and look at him from across the room, by that time you were fully dressed, hair tied back, boots laced up. Engangment ring which was supposed to be switched out in less than a week hanging onto your dog tags. It took a moment to find the words but they were able to come after a moment, “There is no talking to Laswell or the Captain, there is no loophole, there is no replacing, there is nothing you can do. I have it covered. I do not need you to come and save me when I can save myself.”

Maybe once we got ourselves picked up…

The silence was stiff, and he then finally relented, slowly walking over to you, tucking the tags into your shirt, voice hushed, “Johnny ‘ll take care of ya.”

“I did…I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He pressed his lip to the crown of your head, “Jus lemme think I can save you from everythin.”

You stay silent, then with a short step you move to allow him to hold you, “You can.”

We can move somewhere far away, within the groves of tranquility …

You give Johnny a dull laugh as you walk down the rusted corridor, his laugh echoing through your earpiece. It was nice, laughing for what felt like the first time in forty or so hours, the mission was not even close to being finished and you were already running on steam. So obviously it was time for some lame jokes, “As much as fireworks sound fun, I don’t think I want that in my wedding.”

“Gah,” He chuckled from his spot, waiting for you to clear the hallway so he could follow, “Ghosty woulda lemme.”

“Oh yeah, Ghost would have loved it,” You return with a bitten-back laugh, and then turn the corner, leading with your gun, eyes looking over the blood splatters on the ground and you then whisper, “Clear.”

Before you could even blink the hiss of a gunshot hissed into your earpiece burning with such a pain you had to rip it out, hand going to your ear.

With a staggering step to catch your balance and blink the tears out of your eyes you were then met with a gun being shoved to the back of your head.

You never thought blinding light could hold such peace.

I would prefer our home to not be the shadows cast by the towering and rickety oaks, rather it be in the sun, lightened by new lives we could live

The carrier came back with supplies, no saved hostage, just two bodies left mangled by the enemy no captain even- the craft had been on autopilot.

A message, a warning left within that metal body.

The silence as the door swung itself open. They had all seen death, they had seen things no human should have seen.

There was something about the sight of their teammates laying tossed on the floor of an aircraft that made Kyle turn away

That made Price need a day before he filed the paperwork.

Something about it ruined Simon.

A large house ideally, so that way we can have as many kids and dogs as we want, something to usher in a new meaning behind our names

Silence is what he use to hold peace in, yet all he could hear when there was silence was the what-ifs, did you scream? Was it quick? Did it hurt? Why didn’t he go? Why did he let it happen?

That day he lost the only people he had loved and it was cursing him, bottles couldn’t cure it, opioids didn’t numb more than he had already been, nothing was saving him. He summed that up by saying maybe he didn’t deserve saving.

A garden, lively with bees and colorful with every flower I can manage to grow,

He couldn’t bring himself to go through your things, he was the next of kin, as for Johnny- all of his things had been shipped back to his family, yours? They sat where you had left them that morning you left, your notebook collecting desk on the coffee table, mug still half-filled with water. Lipstick stain still on his balaclava from the last time he took you out on a proper date.

In a drunken stupor, he grabbed the notebook, for the intention of tossing it away, forcing himself to forget every tiny detail of what was. But something told him to open up the pages, so for a millionth of a second he did, yet the sight of your handwriting which you would jokingly name ‘chicken scratch’ forever ingrained on the pages caused something in him to break all over again.

A porch where we can dance in the moonlight

“Riley.” John seemed shocked by the sight of the former lieutenant on his doorstep, sure he had offered ‘anything’ after the deaths, yet he never expected for Simon to take him up on it. For the first time in two years, for the first time since he had to discharge him, he saw what he thought was a completely sober man before him.

It was taking every ounce of Simon to not just turn away, to say it was a bad idea and run, run away from the emotions, but he was going to this…he had to. “You wanna build a house?”

A library so I can put all of those books you bought me, somewhere we can escape the haunting reality of the past

A year, he and John spent a year of work on the house once Simon found the perfect lot of land not too far out of London. Weekends spent from morning to dusk, John’s kids helping when they were in town and Eliza, John’s wife, coming by with food and to do the painting. The foundation has your name forever printed within it.

All of it sounds so poetic when I scribble them down, but the reality is as long as I have your love I am home

A garden he tended every morning and dusk to make sure they were perfectly planted, large enough to where the neighbors would come by to pick bouquets. He would watch the child run through the stone pathways, wondering what could have been.

The library was filled with novels he swore to collect, writing your name as the owner as he placed them in the rows of the shelving he took careful time carving.

I will love you forever and always, Ghost-boy

“You built a good home,” Kyle had told him, close to ten years after all of it had happened, sitting beside him on the porch. He knew it was probably the only thing that kept him alive this long, so he was thankful for it.

Simon nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

(annnyway, that’s all! Any and all comments, feedback and all that mean so much! Thanks for the ask!! <3)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #cod fluff #simon ghost x reader #cod x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley angst #angst

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triflesandparsnips · 11 months

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So I understand that there are Good Omens show fans who have never read Good Omens the book, and that makes me deeply sad because--

Like, there's so much depth to the story being told about humans and humanity and the choice between good and evil -- and how that's actually a false dichotomy whoooops -- WHILE ALSO not really being about Aziraphale and Crowley at all (who are, imo, basically there as embodiments of "Impressive Failures" for the purposes of Theme and also Plot).

BUT IF you want to know why I've shipped them since the book-- here's the moment it happened for wee teenage me:

Wednesday (before the end of the world)

So it's Warlock's birthday party. And there are all these children and security guards and also an angel doing magic tricks while a demon is disguised as a caterer. This bit is basically the same as the show, so hooray.

But as wee me understood the characters up to this point, they were still basically enemies who had been in the field together for way too long and knew each other's moves well enough for the same tempting/thwarting of one another to become kind of boring and repetitive and generally pointless-- particularly once they realized that they could, for instance, just live their (separate!) lives watching humans being weird (Crowley) and seeking various sensory stuff (Aziraphale) while doing the least work necessary to keep their respective bosses off their backs.

The Arrangement was borne not out of hiding a friendship or anything, but instead the realization that sometimes covering for one another would just... cut down on their total overall workload. They were, at best, employees of two different, competitive companies-- though in same kind of department, doing the same kind of work-- who discovered they liked to have lunch at the same deli and that their jobs were sometimes distressingly more similar than either was comfortable with.

SO ANYWAY. BACK TO THAT WEDNESDAY. They're not covering for one another with this whole Antichrist thing-- they're now actively collaborating, and they've acknowledged (mostly) that it's not to cut down on their individual workloads, but rather to preserve their identical-- but not shared (not yet)-- goals of Getting To Continue The Lives On Earth They've Grown To Enjoy.

But like-- still not friends. Not really.

Until Aziraphale fucks up a bit, Warlock accidentally gets hold of a security guard's weapon and starts waving it around, and:

Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock. The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork. Aziraphale blinked. A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden. Aziraphale looked embarrassed. Then a cream cake hit him in the face.

My teenage brain exploded at this moment.

BECAUSE: there is no reason for Aziraphale to do that.

Work-wise: If he got shot, Crowley would get discorporated, but not die-- and anyway, it would happen in such a way that both of them could explain it away easily to their respective sides (and possibly even be commended for it!).

Collaboration-wise: If Crowley had been watching Aziraphale, and if he'd seen Aziraphale have the chance to change the gun but not do it-- then yeah, probably that would've been annoying enough to have warranted some chilly conversations once he came back topside, and therefore, Aziraphale choosing to save Crowley could've been a reasonable, logical choice to keep their working relationship on an even keel until they'd sorted out this Doomsday thing.

But Crowley was looking the other way.

Work-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and secret-collaboration-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and so it is, overall, really weird that Aziraphale saved him.

But his automatic reaction-- in a blink-- is to stop Crowley from getting shot. And he knows it's weird-- he feels embarrassed that his sudden, unthinking reaction is to save his "enemy".

And the final bit is just a couple paragraphs later:

With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out.

SO LOOK: He changed only the pistol about to shoot Crowley. His automatic reaction had nothing to do with saving a party full of humans, many of them children-- nothing to do with Heaven or Hell-- nothing to do with preserving the coworker he needs to stop Armageddon--

It was all to do with saving Crowley. Who may be the enemy, but he's Aziraphale's enemy. And another part of his life on Earth that he's doing all of this just to preserve.

Which may also be, for the first time, the moment he lets himself realize how important Crowley in particular is to him.

...and so anyway, that's how I started shipping these two immortal idiots, and one of many reasons why everyone should read the book.

#good omens #good omens book #versus #good omens tv

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tacticaldiary · 1 year

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Recovery In Tandem

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: Torture, Men being creepy, mentions of sexual assault, Simon and the reader get their revenge.

"Good. You're doing good." Simon soothes, running a hand up and down her back. "That's it, love. Keep breathing, yeah?"

"I can't do it." She sobs a sound that makes Simon's chest tighten, clutching onto his like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't...it's-I'm always back there-"

A/N: Sequel to 'Captured In Tandem'. Read Part 1 Here to get the full context

Masterlist

It's odd, coming back to what used to be so normal.

Days in a dingy basement with only a lover as broken as she was or company. She had to be strong for him back then, just as Simon had been determined to be for her, but now...

Now there was nothing to be strong for.

No ropes digging into her ankles and wrists, nobody forcing hurt on her for answers she couldn't give. No reason to keep her chin up to chase away the angry, anguished looks in Ghost's eyes as she was beaten and shot and put through the worst humanity has to offer.

Watching back the recordings the sick bastards had made was easy. She'd done it with a numb sort of dissociative manner. Watched herself be touched and shot while Ghost spat out threats that would make a normal man turn pale. They'd assured her she didn't have to sit through it, that she could deliver her statement and reports through memory alone but something in her itched to see living, visible proof that it was all real.

Sometimes she feels insane, stuck in her own head.

Ghost had to leave the room when they hit play.

He never said anything, just got up, pushed his chair in and left. It was funny, a detached part of her had thought when he'd walked out. She'd seen him do the most squeamish things, known he'd gone through much worse, but seeing her be tortured, ripped into half the shreds he was, was somewhat too much to bear for him.

That had been 12 days ago.

Price has taken her access to the video away after the ninth time she'd watched it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"I know you're bad at sharing but you wouldn't mind if I had a taste, would you?" The man croons at Ghost. His breath fans across her face, acrid and disgusting. A choked sob tears out of her lips when his hand trails up her body-

And she...she can't move?

Her head is a leaden weight, fixed firmly to the grimy ground under her, her limbs frozen as she watches it happen in terror. She has to do something, to push him away, bash in his nose with her skull, but she can't move, Ghost is yelling and shouting and threatening, and she can't do anything but sit there helplessly as she squeezes her eyes shut, breath ragged-

His hands stop on her shoulders, clutching them tight enough to aggravate the old wounds, she's being shaken, a voice in her ear, low and-...and soothing? A rumble she knows so well, mumbling something that doesn't match up with what should be happening-

She wakes up with a start, a choked gasp tearing its way from her throat. There are hands on her, holding her shoulders and she clumsily tries to scratch them away, to push, mind still scrambled and half awake.

"-alright, I've got you." The ringing in her ears subsides and words make themselves known to her right by her ear. A hand grabs hers, presses it against something warm and scarred and beating, the scent of gun smoke and oak invading her senses as she snaps back to the present.

It's not a chair or a hard floor under her, it's soft sheets that rustle as she trembles, pressed close to someone so familiar and warm

Warm. She was never warm back there.

A shuddering breath loosens out of her chest, mixed with a sob as the fight drains out of her

"Good. You're doing good." Simon soothes, running a hand up and down her back. "That's it, love. Keep breathing, yeah?"

"I can't do it." She sobs a sound that makes Simon's chest tighten, clutching onto his like he's the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't...it's-I'm always back there-"

"You're not." He slides her hand out from under his shirt where he'd pressed it over his heart, pulls her in closer to him. "We got out. You got us out."

Nightmares. Night terrors, more specifically.

She dreamt about dying.

He dreamt about watching her die.

Simon was more subtle about it. He hadn't told her at first, keeping his troubles guarded lest he give her more to worry about during her recovery. She'd found out when something jostled her in the middle of the night, had switched on the lamp to see him tense, with a gritted jaw.

He'd told her he'd been having them all his life, that he was used to them, but that didn't make her feel any better, didn't help her deal with her own.

The same scene, over and over again, but this time she's unable to escape, unable to move. She has to let it happen and watch the both of them die.

Every. Fucking. Night.

"Listen to me." He says firmly, and when she doesn't respond, he pulls her away from where she's buried her face into the crook of his neck. "Eyes on me. Right here." He urges in that same commanding voice he'd told her to grab the knife with all that time ago.

She obliges and something so distressed in her eyes makes a pang of anger and upset hit his heart. Not at her. Never at her.

Simon's just upset that he didn't get to rip those motherfuckers into shreds with his own two hands.

"We're not there." He curls a hand around the back of her neck. "You killed him, we're safe." His mouth ticks down. "Don't leave pieces of yourself behind, yeah? They don't deserve an inch more of you than they've already taken."

"We're safe." She breathes out, repeating him and relaxing when he gives her a nod of approval.

"That's right." His thumb circles her nape softly, a reassuring pressure that keeps her grounded. "Wouldn't have fucking lived with myself if I let a bastard like that be the end of you."

He considers the small quirk of her lips as a victory.

"No?" She questions, leaning into him, exhaustion tugging at her bones.

"Negative." He confirms.

"I think of it a lot." She admits after a moment. "I go there every night. Watched the tape to figure out if there was anything...sooner I could have done."

Lips press against her temple, hot and firm as she lets her eyes slip shut.

"If there was, I would've done it." There's a deep-seated regret in his voice, the gravel of guilt weaving its way through the sediments of his thoughts. There are a few moments of silence, and she thinks that might be all he has to say but Simon surprises her by going on:

"It was hell." He says in a low voice, almost hesitant to verbalise it to her. "Never been so off-kilter, seeing you all banged up and mangled." He puffs a quick exhale against her skin. "Would've skinned those fuckers alive if I could."

And she believes him.

The threat of such violence may be a deterrent to others, but it warms her inside out to know that she's barrelled past all his walls and settled into his heart as someone he'd go to those lengths to protect.

"I know." She whispers. Simple. Knowing. Mutual.

They stay like that until she drifts back off to sleep. It's not hard, given the little hours she's only been able to get before being woken up by her own mind. It's a solace, knowing he'd be there to coach her through it every time, to reassure and ground and hold her until the worst of it passes.

Simon watches her drift off.

He couldn't leave her side after Gaz had found them. Fought and glared at anybody who dared to tell him to step away from her. Even when being given medical attention of his own, his gaze was always fixed on her.

The strongest fucking person he knows.

Ghost prides himself on being someone efficient, someone who goes in and out and gets the job done with terrifying purpose.

It had all flown out the window the moment he registered that she was with him in that room, bound in front of him. When they'd caught on that she was the one person he'd burn the fucking world down for, he hated himself for letting it show.

His arms tighten around her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against his own, reminding himself that she was still here. Alive. With him.

His. Always his.

He couldn't do much to change the past...

But he could do a hell of a lot to make them feel better about the future.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"You certain about this?" Price raises an eyebrow, watching the rigid set of Ghost's shoulders. He stares at the glass looking into the observation room.

"Positive." Voice clipped, eyes cold.

There is no Simon here, just the harsh chill of Ghost.

Price doesn't say anything more, simply takes a drag of his cigar, letting the smoke out into the air in a slow exhale. "This is off the books." The implications of the words make something cruel and satisfied curl in his chest. "Intel is your priority. Their lives are not."

There's brewing anger underneath his Captain's words. Anger at the outcome, at receiving two of the best soldiers of his prized task force back injured, one of them in tatters. He'd sat outside the operating room the entire time she'd been in surgery.

If he didn't think Ghost deserved to more, he'd go in there himself.

"Copy." Ghost clips out, and then pushes the door open.

He recognises about 5 of the 8 men bound in front of him, slumped against the wall. He doesn't care about the unfamiliar 3, they were here and therefore associated.

That was enough of a crime for him to feel no remorse.

They straighten up as he enters and Ghost can't help the rush of grim satisfaction at the way they shuffle and bristle when they realise who it is.

Ghost stares them down for a moment, before dragging a cart from the shadows of a corner into the light.

Knives, a bat, a pistol, and other knick-knacks that he intended to test out. Laid out neatly for him to rifle through and choose.

He picks the pistol, loading the chamber full.

It dawns on them pretty quickly, and some of them start stuttering and talking at him, words that buzz around his head. Others hold their chins high and Ghost cannot wait to make them break.

He drags the one nearest to him closer, kicks the man's knee out sending him kneeling to the floor. Before the man can start to talk, Ghost levels the gun to his head and fires a shot clean through his skull.

Blood splatters near the feet of the 7 others.

"That's the most merciful I'll be getting." He says, voice ringing through the room. He surveys the room briefly. "I doubt any of you'll be giving me half the fight the woman you beat did."

"They were our orders!" One of them yells, tugging at his bindings. "We did what we were told."

"Your mistake." Ghost says unfeelingly, clicking the chamber of his gun shut again. "Touching her was a death sentence."

He doesn't give them a single word more.

One by one, he makes them all crack, makes the others watch just as he was forced to. Screwdrivers, knives, and his own two hands ripped through flesh and cracked bones, stoking and soothing the fire running under his veins. Each scream and cry reminds him of the ones she'd let out, the ones he had to endure and listen to because of these bastards, eggs him on to be more brutal and ruthless.

Unforgiving.

He doesn't need to ask a single question.

They cry out their answers in desperate pleas of mercy, anything and everything that they think Ghost would possibly want to know.

Personnel, safehouses, weapons, and coordinates. They all come pouring out between the cracks of their bones, the ringing of bullets, and the quiet slashes of his knife.

Ghost doesn't hear a single word. It would all be recorded for whoever the hell to go through later on, but Ghost doesn't care about any of it. The only thing he's focused on is paying back what's due in dividends.

By the time he's done, there's more blood on the floor than the drain could keep up with, and the cold rage had receded back enough for him to be satisfied.

Price doesn't comment when he emerges, silently nodding before walking off to find the only person who matters. There were no pieces of him left in that room. He'd reserved each one of them for her.

He'll be damned if he ever lets anybody break her down again.

Not on his watch.

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(25/09/2023)

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peachesandfictionalmen · 2 months

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Jason Todd and paramedic, neighbor, reader?

So, you've got this neighbor, he moved in not long before you, your apartment doors are right next to each other on the top level of the small complex and you just can't stop running into each other.

It started after a pretty unremarkable shift no long after you moved in, more transports and fallen grandmas than gunshot wounds and overdoses. After parking your motorcycle you begun your sleepy accent to your apartment, slinging your duffle over your shoulder. Only to be greeted by a pair of broad shoulders making their way up the stairs in front of you, which wouldn't be all that weird, except that its 3am and the majority of Gotham's population is tucked in bed at this hour. Slinking back a little, as to not bother this man you've never met you continue up the stairs, taking in this fellow occupier of the night, who's wearing tactical gear, gun holsters and has a red helmet unlike you've ever seen, in his hand.

At the top of the stairs you both take out your keys, and end up at a set of identical doors, placed right next to each other. There's no sense in hanging back, you can tell he knows your there, and he seems oddly unthreatening. You each fumble with your respective locks, exchange an awkward glance as he turns and takes in your work uniform, at this point disheveled and almost certainly clad with spare gloves, sailene and pens hanging out of ajar pockets on your pants, you depart with a slight nod, entering the dim comfort of your apartment.

The next time you see the oddly handsome, tactically clad neighbor is again, after work, but this time at your favorite 24 hour chinese place. You run into him walking in, there to pick up your respective orders. The man at the counter, of course, handed you each the wrong order.

"hey, um sorry-" he says rubbing the back of his neck, "I think I got yours-" "oh, sorry" you say, turning to face him "your, um Jason?" looking at the tag stapled to the bag. "um yeah, that's me, we're neighbors, right? You live in 211?" He says hesitantly."Yeah, it's nice to actually meet you, I'm y/n. You hold out your hand for him to shake, he takes it, his hand gently engulfing yours, it's rough and warm "it's good to know you like good chinese" you say laughing at the situation. You end up making it home before your neighbor that night.

The week after that you run into your neighbor again, this time at work. Your answering a call that came in for a civilian that was injured in the crossfire of a drug bust. When you pull up to the scene you get the feeling this wasn't a normal cop operation. Amongst the various cop cars you see none other than batman with nightwing not far away from him, but what catches your eye after you and your partner have loaded the patient is a man seemingly trying to keep to the shadows next to batman, who's wearing the very same tactical gear, helmet and leather jacket that you've seen on your neighbor. He glances your way, latching onto your figure before the ambulance doors are pulled shut and your off to the hospital.

The next two interactions with your unusual neighbor are almost strangely normal.

You see him on your day off, because of course he goes to the same gym you do. You spot him after moving to a new rack, he's doing bicep curls, in shorts and a tank top instead of the tactical gear you're used to seeing him in. Varying size scars dot his skin like freckles. You can't help but notice just how big he is, yeah, you knew he was tall, but seeing him for more than a fleeting moment you can observe just how broad he is, well, everywhere. He notices you when he turns to take a drink out of his water bottle, expression surprised as he sends a hesitant little wave your way.

Later the same day your sitting on your couch at dusk when you get a soft knock on your door. Looking through the peephole you see Jason standing outside your door in sweats an a t-shirt, what looks like flour dusting his shirt as he stands outside your door twiddling his thumbs. "Hey, what's up?" You say after opening the door. "Sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if I could borrow some sugar.." Jason says while wringing his hands. "Oh, sure, come in." you move out of the doorway. Jason hulks awkwardly in your kitchen, like he's afraid he'll break something or scare you. "How much do you need?", you say getting a bag and moving over to your sugar jar. "Oh, only about half a cup-" "Okay, not to pry or anything but, you uh..work with batman?" Jason shifts on his feet, "Yeah, you could say that, we work together sometimes... I noticed your a paramedic?" Obviously deflecting from himself. "Yeah, I just got transferred to a station near here." Normally you'd never tell someone you aren't all that close to that you work in the area, but considering that he's seen you at work, oh, what the hell. "Are you enjoying it here?", Jason shifts on his feet again, seeming to scan your apartment like he's looking for danger or vulnerability on the walls. "It's been okay, I'm pretty familiar with the area.. I've lived in Gotham my whole life." You move to hand Jason the sugar "Y'know I wouldn't have pegged you as someone who cooks.." He gently takes the bag of sugar, nessling it in his hand, "Oh, I like to bake actually, I'm making a cake." You walk him to the door, he tells you tidbits about his cake all the way. "Sounds delicious, I'd love to try it sometime Jason." A faint blush dusts his cheeks as he nods before returning to his apartment.

The next day you're greeted by a bag on your door handle when you get off work. Inside is a carefully packaged piece of cake in tupperware, with a note on top, 'Hope you enjoy - J.T.' .

The next time you run into your neighbor is in the parking garage. You ride your bike down to your assigned parking spot, Jason's is in it's spot, but so is he, slumped against it visibly having been put through the ringer. "Jason?" you call out, parking your bike. "Hey, do you happen to have any medical supplies from work?" The gash on his thigh, along with several other little cuts are visible now that your closer. "Jesus, yeah I've got a full kit in my apartment-" Jason shifts, standing. "Thanks" he says.

"You really don't have to go to this much trouble-" Jason grimises as you put another stitch in the gash. "Yes I do, I'm not gonna let you walk around with a gaping wound-" You finish the final stitch with a swift cut of the thread, "I feel bad for making you work after your shift".

You begin dabbing antiseptic into his cuts, "I think you'd feel worse if you were left with an open wound." You awkwardly squat in front of Jason to get the cut on his forehead easier, "Still, let me make it up to you?" Jason lightly touches your knee, "I'd love to get dinner sometime if you want."

"This is an odd way to ask a girl out Jason" You chuckle as Jason blushes, "I'm free tomorrow"

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood #i hope this makes sense #is this something

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pixelword · 5 months

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♯┆“Save a horse! Ride a cowboy” .ᐟ ★

MASTERLIST !! PINNED POST 🎧💿

Striker x Afab!Reader <3

This is purely horny lmao

Striker chugs down the rest of his whiskey, setting the glass back down on the counter with force, making a loud thud. He licks the amber liquid off his lips and flashes you a toothy grin. “Be right back darling.”

You raise an eyebrow but say nothing, waiting for him to be out of sight before reaching for his black cowboy hat that he had taken off earlier. You always had wanted to try it on, but never had the chance to. Striker always kept it on him or nearby, practically attached to it.

You set your drink down on the counter and place the hat on your head. “Pow” you make a mock gunshot, your hand doing a finger gun and pointed outside.

“Now c’mon sugar, I don’t look like that do I?”

You jump in your stool when you hear his voice over your shoulder, but recover quickly. “Nah, I look more badass.”

He chuckles , “Yeah?” He sits back down on his stool beside you and orders another whiskey. “Ever heard of the cowboy hat rule?”

“The what now?”

He chuckles and looks at the bartender who sets a glass of whiskey down. “Do you know about the cowboy hat rule?”

The bartender glances at the both of you and chuckles. “Don’t drag me into this.” He returns to cleaning cups and attending the other customers.

You look at Striker with a look of confusion at whatever he could mean. He chuckles again and downs his shot in one go, once he swallows he decides to speak again.

“So the cowboy hat rule,” he starts, “is that if you take a cowboys hat and wear it, you gotta ride the cowboy.”

You feel your face burn at his words, your face showing your surprise. “I- What?”

“You heard me sugar” he grins, you can hear the slight rattle of his tail.

You can feel a heat settle in your stomach, making you clench your thighs. You can’t tell if the heat is from the words or from the alcohol, maybe a combination of both. He’s handsome, that much is obvious, his voice has a nice tone to it that’s made even better with his accent, and the way he carries himself is of someone with a high reputation.

“So if I ride you,” You hold in a giggle from the look of surprise that flashes on his face, “do I get to keep the hat on?”

“Do you wanna find out sugar?”

You knock back the rest of your drink and wave the bartender over to pay your tab. Striker grabs your hand and practically drags you out of the bar.

“Slow down there cowboy, we’re not even home yet.”

“Ain’t patient enough for the ride home doll.” He walks up a set of stairs on the side of the bar. Looking up you can see the sign of the bar includes the fact it’s also a motel. How convenient.

Striker pushes the door open and walks up to the counter, and imp who looks similar to the bartender down stairs mains the counter. Striker quickly gets a room, you not really paying attention to their conversation before being pulled by Striker down the hall till he opens a door, quickly pulling you in before closing the door and pushing you against it. His lips quickly meet yours, it immediately becomes a battle of dominance as you pull him in closer by his vest.

When he pulls back you try to think of something snarky to say as you pant but Striker shuts you up by pressing his lips to you. The taste of nicotine and whiskey floods your senses, a taste that was so him you weren’t surprised about it.

He sucks on your tongue and presses a knee between your legs. You can’t help but grind down on his thigh, the friction making you let out a whine.

You reach up to grab something to ground yourself, your fingers finding his snow white hair and tangling with the strands. You give them a tug and he moans into your mouth, pulling away to smirk at you.

“I knew you liked it rough.” you tease.

He chuckles, “You don’t know the half of it.” He walks backwards towards the bed, pulling you along by your waist. He sits himself on the edge of the bed, grinning at you. You smile back at him and sit yourself on his lap, knees resting on the mattress on either side of him, his bulge rubs right against rubs right against your core. He reaches his hands up your shirt and squeezes your tits over your bra.

“Satan,” he groans “I should have given you the damn hat much sooner. I’d give you all the damn hats I own to see you like this everyday.”

You lean and press a kiss on the corner of his lips, “easy there cowboy,” you move your lips down to his jaw and neck, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He shivers under your touch, swallowing hard at the nips you leave over his neck. His hips thrust up when you suddenly bite and suck a dark mark, fingers digging into your hips. “E-easy now darling.”

You drag your hips back and forth on his lap slightly, his hard cock grinding on your sex through your pants. He grunts at the friction and you bite your lip to keep the sounds from leaving your mouth.

His hands travel from your hips under your shirt, pulling it up while grinding you. You remove his hat as you take your shirt off and put it on once done. He cups your face with his hands before pulling you down to kiss him again. One of his hands sneaks behind your back and unclasps your bra, you pull back from the kiss “Impressive.” You hum.

Striker moves his mouth down to kiss the top of your boobs. He’s gentle, only kissing hard enough for you to feel it. “So pretty…” he whispers.

“C’mon cowboy, do something.” You tease.

He pulls back from his affection. “Why don’t you use that mouth of yours for something more useful than ordering me around darling?” He brings his fingers to your lips, rubbing the tip of his index and middle finger on your bottom lip, slowly pushing them into your mouth. You wrap your lips around them and start sucking them on instinct. “That’s a good girl…”, he praises, “keep at it.”

He slowly kisses down your left breast, kissing around your nipple but not touching it. His mouth and tongue are hot and wet, making you squirm and grind down for more. Striker moans when you dig your hips a little too hard into his.

Finally, he closes his mouth around your nipple, making you moan around his fingers. He’s an expert, having a technique so good it has you whining around his fingers and grinding against his hard on. The friction does little to help the throbbing feeling in your core and only succeeds in making Striker harder. You finally had enough.

You pull away from his fingers, Striker looks up to you with an eyebrow raised. “Did I say you could stop?”

You place your hand on his chest and push him down on the bed so he’s laying down. “I’ve had enough of you being in charge.” You grab his jacket and pull it back to remove it. “It’s my turn now, cowboy.”

You’d never imagine that Striker would have a submissive side. Yet he surprised you by laying back and letting you do what you want.

You brought your hands under his shirt and ran them up his chest, feeling the scars before pulling his shirt off him. Once off you couldn’t help but admire the sars he had over his chest, no doubt from his job. You plant light kisses over his scars and Striker sucks in a breath.

Your hands run lower, following his white happy trail to the hem of his jeans. You remove his belt with a bit of struggle but pop open his jeans quickly once you get it out of the way. You make quick work of the zipper and prop yourself up on his knees to tug his pants off. You’re greeted by the sight of his hard cock straining against his boxers and you could almost start to drool over it.

“So worked up for me,” you sigh with a teasing tone, running your finger across the outline of his dick, applying enough pressure for him to feel it but not enough to get off.

Striker pants at your touch, especially when you start to trail your fingers across the waistband of his boxers. His hands grip the sheets of the bed as you slip a finger under the fabric and run it on the skin under. You hook another finger inside and finally tug his boxers off.

His cock springs out, hard and red with the head dripping with pre cum. It had black rings like on his tail. You grip the base snugly, giggling at the way Striker sighs and throws his head back, his tail rattling due to the pleasure.

You lick the tip, the salty sweet taste of his precum flooding your mouth. He bucks his hips forwards, trying to force more of his cock into your mouth.

You pulled back from his cock, slightly hovering over it. "Not yet, cowboy. You cum inside me or you don’t cum at all."

Striker throws his head back and groans at your words, the mere idea of stuffing you full of his cum and fucking it back into you was almost enough to make him loose it and make him cum. You tug down your pants and underwear almost too eagerly, your cunt practically dripping onto his lap. “You ready cowboy?”

“After you, darling.”

You slowly sink down his cock, your pussy so wet it slides in easily. He’s big enough to make the stretch almost painful, your walls squeezing around him. The two of you moan in tandem as you slide down his dick.

Striker grabs onto your hips, his grip tight enough to surely leave bruises in the shape of his hands. You slide down a few more inches, your eyes almost rolling back due to the pleasure, your hips flush against his once you finally bottom out. Both of you are breathless, Striker's hands twitching in anticipation.

You move up his length and back down slowly, the feeling of his cock stretching your walls was almost overwhelming. Your movements get faster and stronger the more you do, getting confident on what you’re doing.

You start to bounce on his cock, your thighs slapping against his. Your hand goes up to his hat, holding it down against your head so it wouldn’t fall off. Striker helps your movements, guiding your hips, desperate for more friction.

“Fuck,” he groans, using his grip on your hips to slam you down on him, “look so damn fine in my hat.”

You open your mouth to tease him, however you’re interrupted when he lifts his hips to slam into yours. You can feel your orgasm building quickly, heat building in your stomach. Striker keeps lifting his hips to meet your movements, sliding one of his hands from his hips down to rub your clit.

The mixed pleasure coming from both actions is enough to send you over the edge, your orgasm rolling through you. Striker makes no move to slow down however, he thrust into you harder, trying to chase his orgasm.

“My sweet cowgirl,” he grunts, “cummin’ all over my cock, like a naughty slut.”

You whimper, you can feel your muscles twitching due to the overstimulation. Your hands are on his chest, holding you up so you didn’t fall face first into him. You can feel another orgasm building up already.

“Want me to cum inside you darling?” He coos, “want me to fill you up like the slut you are?”

“Y-yes!” You whine, looking down at him, digging your nails on his chest to keep yourself grounded. “Fill me up, please Striker!”

Your words send him into overdrive, an animalistic sound coming from deep down his throat. His thrusting gets faster, his hips slapping even louder against your ass with every thrust.

You squeal his name, your voice reaching a pitch you didn’t know possible. Your body twitches as your orgasm rips through you. The tightening of your walls is enough to make Striker snap. He gives one final hard thrust before spilling his cum deep inside you, the intense shockwaves of pleasure washing over you.

You feel your mind blank for a second. Striker pulls you down to lay on his chest, petting your hair as he murmurs praises in your ear, you hum to his words as you catch your breath.

When you come to, you snuggle against the crook of his neck, his cock still buried inside of you.

"So, darling, did you enjoy the ride?"

MASTERLIST !! PINNED POST 🎧💿

#⸝⸝ ꒰ SCHEDULED PROGRAMS 💿 ⁞ ˎˊ˗#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #helluva boss x you #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss smut #hazbin hotel smut #striker #helluva boss striker #striker smut #smut #striker x reader #striker x you #striker x reader smut

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hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 3 months

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Killing Wanda Pt2

Summary: Picking up where we left off here, you’re pretty sure Wanda is going to be happy learning what you’ve done, that is until an interruption puts a stop on your plans

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI angst and suggestive language and adults themes

Words: 3,000 or so (I’m writing on my phone and can’t put everything in a word count thing)

A/n: Also reader isn’t Russian but she’s lived with Yelena and Nat all her life so she’s picked up a lot of Russian words

A/n: Any silly mistakes are my own and my own fault

You liked walking through the streets at night, just you the slight wind moving the trees and the only real noise would be through foxes and other animals coming out at night, you loved it, and right now walking back to Wanda’s house to tell her she was free from her stalker made you love it even more

Finally reaching your destination you smiled at the bedroom light still being on “awe she waited up for me, such a sweet girl”

You were great at climbing, not because you were an assassin but because when you were younger you and Nat would have races to the tops of trees, you’d always win of course, not that you’d ever let Nat forget it

You quickly swung up the trees to Wanda’s balcony like you were in some kind of weird Romeo and Juliet show “Wanda?” You knocked gently on the door seeing Wanda turn to you from the bed and getting up to open the window to let you in “you’re back” Well that wasn’t the nice sweet voice you were expecting

“Oh? Are you annoyed princess? Did I take too long?” You laughed jumping through the window and taking you jacket off flopping down onto the bed “I’m exhausted, he didn’t put up much of a fight and it went pretty smoothly, one shot to the heart, died instantly, are you happy?”

Wanda didn’t speak in fact you couldn’t even hear her anymore, you opened your eyes and sat up seeing the source of your incoming headache “why hello Natalia, why are you here? And why do you look as angry as ever?”

The woman sighed “Y/n we talked about this, I told you to stay away from Wanda”

You shrugged “yeah but you didn’t say for how long, how was I supposed to know it meant longer than 2 days?” You tried hiding your smirk but it definitely wasn’t working

“Okay my mistake I thought you had common sense but I see now that’s definitely not the case so I’ll move on, why did you kill a man?”

“Why wouldn’t you kill a man? They’re annoying and smell odd”

You heard a giggle from the other side of the room “that was funny Y/n I like it”

“Thanks Yel I knew you’d appreciate that”

Natasha stood from her seat and walked towards Wanda brandishing a knife to her throat, she’d make you take things a lot more seriously even if it was harsh

“Hey no! You pulled your gun from your waistband forcing it against the back of Nat’s head “don’t you dare Natalia, remove the knife” when she didn’t you pressed harder “I mean it!”

The woman laughed “you were given a job to kill her, a job that involves mental and physical torture too, and yet you’re here threatening me, the woman you’ve known since birth, but sure let’s protect the target”

Wanda was trembling, the knife was close enough to start cutting into her neck if she breathed a little too much “she’s not a target Natalia, step down now”

Wanda’s eyes met Natasha’s fiery ones and she sighed letting the knife down and moving out of the way for you to run to Wanda holding her tight until her breathing calmed “it’s okay detka I’ve got you I promise you’re okay”

Wanda closed her eyes just trying to calm herself down while you held her, how could an assassin be so sweet?

“We’ll see you at home Y/n, the doors will be locked until tomorrow and I’ll be at Maria’s for the night”

Nat dragged a reluctant Yelena out of the room leaving you and Wanda alone

After a few moments Wanda gently pushed you away and sat on her bed “Wanda?” You tried stepping close

“Stay there” Wanda snapped and you listened, standing back waiting for another instruction “tell me who put the hit out on me, tell me who did it then-then you can stay with me for the night but then never see me again, you’ve caused me so much stress these last few weeks and it needs to end”

You opened and closed your mouth unsure on what to say but finally coming up with something “if I tell you I want something in return”

Wanda nodded “go on”

“I want to have you for the night, if it’s truly the last night I’ll see you then I want to see you and hold you and touch you in the way I’ve always wanted” you’d sat down next to Wanda and rested your hand on her thigh “let me have that Wanda”

Wanda didn’t say anything as she looked up to your lips and kissed you, the kiss soon turning heavy with your hands in Wanda’s hair and Wanda climbing onto your lap legs on either side of your own

“ty takaya krasivaya, lyubov' Moyà” you said breathlessly moving your hands to take Wandas shirt off revealing her gorgeous lace red bra “are you going to just keep talking or are you going to fuck me like you want to”

You didn’t responded just moved Wanda from your lap reluctantly and stood up to remove your clothes

When the glass shattered behind you Wanda jumped seeing blood seep through your clothes “Y/n?”

You looked at Wanda then down at your side “get-get under the bed” you whispered

“What?” Wanda asked “get under the bed!” You screamed holding onto your side and reaching for you gurn turning to the window hiding under the window sill “if this is Natasha doing this I’m going to be royally pissed off” you glanced at bed seeing Wanda under it and her face full of concern

“I’m fine Wanda I’ve been shot before doesn’t hurt after a while just a dull ache” you were clutching your side trying to hide the clear pain written all over your face “Wanda can you see the shooter from your view? Tell me when they’re reloading”

She nodded watching the window and after the last shot they were reloading “they’ve stopped”

You leapt up leaning on the window aiming your gun to the figure and shooting off a few shots hitting them in the shoulder and chest, you fell down onto the ground and Wanda crawled over to you “Wanda no stay there I’m fine” you whispered trying to shoo her back under the bed

“They’ve gone down Y/n it’s fine you got them”

“Damn right I did…I’m a great assassin” you tried laughing but the bullet didn’t let you “fuck me that hurts”

Wanda laid your head in her lap and cradled you “I’ll call Yelena from your phone okay? But please stay here and don’t move much okay?”

You nodded letting the sleep engulf you “sleepy time then” closing your eyes you felt a heavy throb take over your head and you thought you couldn’t feel any worse and yet here it was, hopefully it will ebb away.

********************************************************

“Y/n? Y/n?! Wake up I can’t keep living with Nat on my own, she doesn’t take me for Taco Bell like you do” Your eyes fluttered open just as a harsh slap was given to you forcing you up

“Yelena what the fuck?! Why did you slap me??” You rubbed at your face and went to get up but a hand pushed you down, Wanda

“Did you see her slap me?”

Wanda giggled “yes pretty sad for you”

You groaned “god that’s embarrassing, anyway why can’t I get up?”

Yelena rolled her eyes standing up “you were shot dipshit, literally 2 hours ago, anyway the bullet is out of you, I’ve cleaned the area and numbed the area so you should be fine for 3 more hours, now come on, you and Wanda need to go to the safe house”

“A safe house? Why do I have to go?”

Yelena sighed “Wanda you’ve just been shot at, and I’m damn sure they were aiming for you, a good thing really Y/n seemed to be stood in front of you, as I think of it, why was she stood in front of you?”

You managed to stand to your feet with Wanda’s help stretching a little to loosen your limbs “we were talking and she was sat on the bed and I was stood clearly”

Yelena looked between yourself and Wanda “I see, but when I appeared and saw you on the floor, of course I was scared but Wanda just had her jeans on and a red lacy bra, and she looked disheveled, as though she had been made out with sexually”

Your smugness shone through and you couldn’t hold it in “it would’ve been more sexually but I got shot, total cockblock”

Wanda slapped you on the arm dropping you and going to pack a bag since she had to relocate due to a crazy shooter “let’s just go, since I have too move my entire life it seems”

Yelena nodded and left the room to start the car leaving you two alone “Wanda?” You asked and she looked at you “what?”

“I’m sorry about this-

Wanda held her hand up “no don’t start Y/n I’m so confused, you ask me for sex after I say you need to leave me alone after tomorrow, I agree then all of a sudden you got shot, very suspicious isn’t it” she snapped

You were shocked, what a fucking switch up and it did kinda piss you off “you think I planned this? I planned a shooting, are you dense?”

Wanda slammed the drawers closed “you know what? You’ve messed up my life for weeks! Stalked me, flirted with me, pretty much harass me every time you see me I’m sick of it!”

“Come off it Maximoff you love it! You don’t push me away, haven’t reported me to the police and always leave the door open for me, it’s your own fault!” You gritted your teeth feeling the numbing cream wearing off and the sharp pain coming back

Wanda just shook her head taking her bag and leaving the room “just leave me alone when I’m at the safe house!”

“No” she stopped at the door looking back at you “what?”

“No I won’t leave you alone, for now maybe until we both calm down but not forever, you’re mine, you belong to me and I’ll be damned if I’m letting you go” you had moved towards a surprised Wanda and clutched Wanda’s shirt in your palm “you’re forgetting who I am and what I do, do you want to know who wants you dead?”

She managed a small nod and you just laughed leaning in close to her ear “no one, no one wants you dead Wanda, no one thinks you’re that important to spend money on, even to kill, so you were right I did plan it, crazy right?”

Wanda shook her head “but the shooter…you’ve been shot-you’re lying! You made me believe someone was after me! And then made me think I was crazy for suggesting the shooter thing!”

You kissed Wanda’s neck and breathed her in, it sounded cliche but you loved it when they were scared “you are crazy Wanda, now get to the safe house before I drag you there myself”

Wanda’s voice quivered “bu-but if there’s no one after me why do I need to go?”

You pulled away and let go out of her shirt not looking her in the eyes “because now you’ve pissed me off Wanda, that safe house is to keep you safe from me now, until I calm down you need to stay there and wait for me, like a good girl”

You left the room ignoring Wanda’s quiet sob and marched past a surprised Yelena “oh what’s going on?”

You stopped “take her to the safe house don’t say a damn word to her until I get back”

“When will you be back?”

You shrugged “I’m going to stay with Nat and Maria it’ll be a few days, make sure she eats and drinks just don’t say anything to her” you stormed off leaving a still surprised Yelena

“pochemu mne vsegda prikhoditsya prismatrivat' za det'mi?”

#marvel #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #killing Wanda #marvel fanfiction #wanda marvel #marvel fic #marvel fics #marvel fanfic #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader

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judesmoonbeauty · 5 months

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Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's POV Premium End ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

Running through the bay, I opened the doors of the warehouses with a fine-tooth comb.

(Where the hell is she…..?)

Then I heard a noise in one of the warehouses.

When I opened the door to the warehouse- I found Kate being held tight by the man in the bowler hat.

Kate: Jude…..and Ellis.

Bowler Hat Man: Jude Jazza! Ahaha, I found you!

Bowler Hat Man: While I was looking for you, I found your lover. And you even jumped in yourself.

Bowler Hat Man: It's as if God is giving me a chance for revenge!

(Your eyes look crazy….)

Jude: You're doin' well for someone who's been the subject of so much dangerous research.

Bowler Hat Man: Thanks to you.

The man in front of me seemed to be moving solely on adrenaline.

But, this kind of person is the most troublesome.

Bowler Hat Man: First, I'm going to kill this woman in front of you.

Bowler Hat Man: Then I will kill you, too, as you despair while holding the corpse of your lover.

Bowler Hat Man: Damn, ha-ha-ha. Isn't this the best revenge play ever?

Kate: ……

The gun in the man's hand was pressed firmly against Kate’s temple.

Ellis: …….

I could sense Ellis about to make a move behind me.

Anticipating Ellis’ move, I put strength into my leg to kick the man.

Kate muttered while being held by the man.

Kate: One. What Jude loves other than people's misfortune and money.

Kate: It's to make fools like you, who play with other people's lives, to despair.

Kate: So, Jude won't despair if he sees me dead.

Bowler Hat Man: Huh?

Jude: ………

Kate: Two. Jude will never, ever forgive anyone who defaults on a contract.

Kate: And scoundrels who play people’s lives. So you'll never get away with it no matter how you try.

(Yeah, I knew I'd heard that line somewhere…..)

FLASHBACK

Jude: One. I like other people's misfortune 'n money, that's true, but the thing I like most.……

Jude: Is to make rich people like ya who think they're safe 'n flaunt their power in the world to despair.

Jude: No matter what kinda weakness I may have in negotiations, I'll never forgive a defaulter.

FLASHBACK ENDS

Kate: Three.

(Oh, those eyes again)

While being held in a tight grip and being shown the overwhelming difference in strength, Kate’s eyes never give up.

She looks straight at me and smiles at me with a radiant glow in her eyes.

"Jude, you understand what I'm trying to do, right?"

It’s frustrating but clear what Kate is trying to do.

Kate: I'm not Jude’s lover, I'm a fairy tale keeper...!

Jude: Haha….

Kate bends down and slips out of the man's arms.

Bowler Hat Man: Huh?

While the man's arms were bare, I kicked him in the jaw with the tip of my shoe.

Jude: Your mouths empty.

I heard the sound of a crushed jaw, but I didn't care, I kicked the man in the stomach several times.

Bowler Hat Man: ..…...Gah……If you're going to do it, do it to the end of ……….

Jude: Who's gonna listen to ya? I'm not gonna let ya die 'n get comfortable.

Jude: I'll politely send ya back to the lab. If ya want to escape again, be my guest.

Jude: I'll play with ya all the time. Only if ya could keep your human form.

Supervisor: Mr. Jude, everyone! Are you all right?

Jude: You'll know it when ya see it.

Bowler Hat Man: Damn…….

Jude: Oh, that face is intriguin'. Isn’t it a good way to kill time?***

Ellis: You're taking him in. I'll help you.

I watched the supervisor and Ellis take the man away with a glance, then turned my attention to Kate.

Jude: Injuries.

Kate: Not a scratch!

Jude: What are ya, a dog in waiting?

Kate: Oh, maybe you’ll look at me?

Jude: Idiot.

As we left the warehouse, Kate stared at the clock tower in the distance and exhaled in relief.

Kate: Oh, thank goodness. It's not after midnight yet.

Jude: What was so good ‘bout it? Ya lost the game. Well, goodbye.

Kate: Well, wait a minute!

Kate: Jude, this!

Kate held out a note.

Kate: The plan to destroy your trading company is written there, Jude.

Kate: When I was looking for the classified documents that I had promised, I found that man in the bowler hat.

Kate: I thought it was strange since you’d put him in your lab Jude, so I followed him…..

Jude: This was dropped. So, while pickin' it up he got caught.

Jude: Stupid.

(What, you're jumping into the danger yourself?)

Kate: Well, this is comparable to the "confidential document" that you requested Jude, isn’t it?

Kate was right, this note that had fallen out had some troubling things in it, it was enough to deliver on the promise.

Kate: As for getting caught, it's my fault. I'm sorry.

Jude: Ya must be crazy because ya almost got killed because ya were scared.

Being a fairy tale keeper is a job title, and it's not something you should cling to.

Kate: Strangely, I wasn’t scared at all.

Jude: …..Yeah?

Kate: Jude, I knew that you’d be there for me.

Kate: I don't mean to protect me or anything, but you wouldn't make a wrong promise to win, would you?

Kate: If I died, the game’s up in the air.

(Ha. She's a real tough princess.)

Kate: Jude. This may be wishful thinking on my part, but…..

Kate: You tried to get rid of me so I wouldn't get further involved and die.

Kate: That's why you made up an enemy that wasn't there at the end.

(Where did she get that from?)

Kate: But it's too late, I'm sure.

Jude:……too late?

Kate: As I said before, I know the people around you, Jude.

Kate: So it's impossible for me to go back to my life.

Kate told me in one breath as she looked at me.

Kate: Well then, how about we just give up and stay together?

(…..give up, huh?)

If I had to turn back, where on earth would I have started from?

The woman in front of me was smiling like she had chosen the depths of hell herself.

Her face was the best I had ever seen.

(You look like you wouldn't die even if I killed you.......There's really nothing I can do.)

(You and me both.)

I gently wipe the mud from Kate’s cheek with my fingertips.

Kate’s cheeks were clean, and my fingers were dirty instead.

Kate: ….Jude?

Jude: ….hey, why are ya clingin’ onto me so tight?

Kate lowered her eyes for a moment, then smiled like a beauty blooming under the moon in the middle of the night.

Kate: I think there are many reasons. But if I had to sum it up in one word...

Kate: Because I want to. I just want to continue being a fairy tale keeper, and be with you Jude.

Kate: Really, just .... That's all.

Jude: How selfish 'n thick-skinned ya are.

Kate: Wait, so you're going to sign it?

Jude: Continue writin’ fairytales. Once again, your lifespan has been shortened, congrats.

Kate: Oh, thank you very much….!

Kate: I did it. This time I won!

Jude: Why are ya so happy ‘bout shortenin’ your life? Throw away that masochistic perversion and go home.

Kate: Wait a minute. Let's go home together.

Kate’s footsteps follow behind me.

It’s as if they’re making so much noise, that of if I went to the moon, they’d come after me.

(A person's life is as fragile as a candle's flame.)

(Trust and a sense of justice are meaningless in the face of malice and murderous intent.)

(Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to protect them, we can't.)

(I understand that to a rotten degree. I know it so well.)

Even so, I wondered why I couldn't push her away when she asked for someone else and came after me directly.

(It's really disgusting.)

(I know.)

(The most disgusting person is the one who thinks it's okay to be with her.)

The bell that sounded at midnight echoed in the air.

Soaring as if it could reach the moon.

Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement

Kate hereby agrees to continue as a fairy tale keeper.

Suit yourself. I don’t care if ya accidentally die……

-Jude Jazza

A few days after I decided to continue as a fairytale keeper.

Suddenly, I received a letter from Her Majesty the Queen.

Kate, your work has reached my ears. Thank you as always.

Therefore, I would like you to evaluate one thing.

I wonder if Jude, who is cursed, is worthy of the crown.

***This question - take it with a grain of salt. I have no clue other than he talks about killing time.

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#ikemen villains #Ikemen villains translations #ikevil #ikevil translations #jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikemen jude #ikemen jude jazza #cybird translations #ikevil spoilers #ikevil jp #ikevil jp spoilers #Jude Jazza POV

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soap-ify · 8 months

Text

GLADIOLUS | simon 'ghost' riley x reader

cw — angst, heavy suicidal tendencies, simon is NOT okay, he is depressed, mentions of death, hurt/no comfort but there's comfort too if that makes sense, bittersweet ending. [1.4k]

italic paragraphs mean flashback!

Cold and stale, the tea in Simon’s hand had long lost its heat. Almost like a cruel mockery of his own life, slowly losing the warmth that made him a human, reducing him to nothing but a breathing corpse.

A waste.

“I think my life’s too short for our love.”

His words caused you to look at him with confusion, trying to mask the inner turmoil brewing in your head at his sickeningly vague words.

“Sorry?” Though you had heard him well, you still wanted him to repeat it, to hear his voice once more.

Simon sighed and put the tea cup aside, having no energy left within him to drink anything, or even do anything. Trapped by the chains he couldn’t see, maybe just simply forged by his own brain. Brown irises soon looked over at you, still holding the same fondness as all the other times.

“I…” He paused momentarily, the thoughts in his head too loud yet distant. “My life. S’too short to love you properly in the way you deserve.”

“Don’t say that, Si. It’s more than enough.” You smiled and placed a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder. Your words were like a sweet lullaby, calming him a bit. A bit.

So he stayed quiet and nodded, pretending that he was fine now, letting you stay in this false bubble he had made up for you both — tranquil and domestic. A paradox to his actual life.

Simon had been overly fascinated by knives lately. Even guns. Not by their beauty, but by the damage they could inflict. He’d let his gloved thumb caress the sharp edge of his knife sometimes, wondering what it’d be like to just stab it into his neck at this very moment.

Some poor unfortunate soldier would find him lying in his own blood, completely oblivious to how contentful he’d be.

Other times, Simon would fiddle with one of his guns, awful intrusive thoughts invading his head, making him feel overly sick. What if he just presses the barrel against his forehead, his finger on the trigger. One click and he’d be gone for good.

Was it selfish to want to die? Simon couldn’t even point out why he feels this way, or since when. All he knows is that nothing helps anymore. Well, you do, sometimes. Though he’d rather have you not see this damaged man rotting himself away more and more. He loves you too much for that.

Was it really selfish to want to die? All he wanted was to leave behind everything, leave behind the blood on his hands and the deaths he had seen, leave behind the memories and just fly away, finally free from the chains suffocating him.

He wanted to become the air, and you’d be his sunlight then — both of you dancing around each other everyday, together once again.

Maybe he could be better for you that way.

“Si.” You poked Simon’s arm, momentarily interrupting his quiet reading. Not that he minded though.

“Yeah?”

“I want to ask you something.” The mild shyness adorning your face sparked his curiousity, causing him to put his book aside and turn all of his attention onto you.

“Go on.” He urged softly.

“Um… Do you think we’d be together in every universe?” You felt silly for asking a question like that, blood rushing to your cheeks while your eyes looked away.

Simon paused for a second, brown eyes softening up as he studied your expression. Together in every universe? God, he’d do anything for that. Anything to love you in every life of his.

“Yeah.” He grumbled softly after a while, a poor attempt to appear nonchalant, though it failed as soon as you hugged his arm happily, making him chuckle under his breath.

“I’ll find you in every universe.”

Gladiolus. It’s a pretty flower, though Simon doesn’t like it just for its beauty. He feels oddly connected to it, uncomfortably exposed — even though he didn’t know why. Could flowers even speak to you?

Which is why he decided not to pick them, turning away to look at some other options. It was his little routine to bring you flowers whenever he could. Though this time, it was different.

A mission — a suicide mission. He was dreading the moment he would have to announce it to you, knowing that he couldn’t back out from it anymore. That was his job. All the dirty stuff.

It was hard, too hard. Watching you collapse in his arms while sobbing in pure devastation absolutely tore his heart, his arms holding you tightly while your fingers hardly dug into his arms, trying to touch him whole.

“M’sorry, love. It was just… supposed to happen one day.”

He couldn’t really recognise the words coming out of his mouth anymore, not really knowing what to say. He couldn’t give you false promises, especially when you both knew the severity of this situation.

Laying on the ground, drenched in blood, wasn’t that bad. He felt a sickening relief that made him feel nauseous yet happy at the same time. His hand was pressed against the severe bleeding wound on his stomach, fatal coughs leaving his mouth while he weakly stared at the sky, the sounds of shouts and gunshots too distant and blurry. It was as if he was slowly slipping away into a bubble that carried him away from this battleground and into somewhere calmer.

At least I didn’t kill myself with that damn gun, he thought to himself, smiling weakly. At least there wouldn’t be any nightmare anymore, no more sleepless nights and random outbursts. Peace. The beauty of death slowly engulfed him, wrapping her arms around him and slowly taking him away from this damned life.

You. He lost consciousness thinking about you — about how he left you back at home, about how he wasn’t strong enough to just retire from the military once you moved into his place.

I’m sorry, words he could desperately say, I’m sorry for not being strong for you.

Though right before dying, he made an oath to himself that if there was even a tiny chance of him living another life after this, he’d find you.

It was another one of those sunny days where you wished you had enough funds to fix the damn air conditioner. Your fingers silently put the last gladiolus into the bouquet one of the old ladies around the town had requested, the sweet scent of flowers soothing your senses.

The soft jingle of the door opening averted your gaze from the bouquet, your eyes falling onto your new customer walking into the flower shop. The sheer size of this mine caught you off guard, though you were quick to scold yourself for being so invested into someone’s height.

“Welcome. How can I help you?” You smiled politely and put the bouquet aside. Once those brown eyes of his met yours, both of you went dead silent for a split second, a strange spark igniting somewhere in between you.

He seemed… familiar. You were sure that you haven't seen him ever in your life, but something about him made you feel as if you knew him. Your fingers twitch involuntarily, feeling as if they had run through those dirty blonde hair off his.

He stared at you with, internally equally bewildered. His lips were slightly agape behind the black surgical mask he wore, for which he was glad for since you couldn’t see the soft shade of red slowly spreading on his cheeks. Why were you so familiar? He felt an odd pang in his chest, making him momentarily forget about why he was even here.

Oh yes, flowers.

“Can I have some roses?” He grumbled under his breath, quickly looking away as he reached for his wallet. “S’my mom’s birthday today.”

“That’s sweet. Happy birthday to her.” You looked away alongside him, a soft bashful smile creeping up on your lips as you began grabbing some newly fresh roses.

It was silent for a while between you both before he eventually broke the thickening silence, clearing his throat, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thanks. Um… My name’s Simon, by the way.” God, he was awkward at this.

You stared at him for a second before letting out a soft giggle, introducing yourself. “Here are your flowers, Simon.”

He felt as if he had been searching for you his whole life.

#was having a horrible day and decided to put my suffering on simon #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #call of duty #rurufic

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