Quadruple Threat!🔪

hihi, i really love ur writing and I wonder if u could do a s/o who does cheer for a bf team with Jeff + the proxies

Hi love!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE this idea! Honestly I think the creeps would love it too! I hope you enjoy 🖤

S/O WHOS A CHEERLEADER - CREEPS SCHOOL AU

JEFF THE KILLER:

Ohhhhh you got this man GOING

His ego goes absolutely WILD

Seeing you in that cute little skirt got him distracted

It takes a while for him to get back in the game, and by that time the football coach is pissed.

Makes some star plays just to impress you too

The crowd roars as he makes the winning touchdown. But all he cares about is you as he throws off his helmet and comes sprinting towards you with that crazed smile

He'll tackle you into a hug and give you the most loving kiss you'd ever gotten from him

He'll pretend he never did it afterwards so don't expect him to ever "remember"

TIM/MASKY:

Motivates him tenfold

When he realizes you're cheering his name from across the mat he seems to get ten times stronger

Everyone's already scared to wrestle him but when they see the change in his eyes it makes them want to run screaming

Lets just say the round doesn't last much longer when you start your cheers for him

Walks over to you when everything's said and done and picks you up in his huge arms and spins you around, planting a kiss on your forehead with a big smile

"My good luck charm, that's what you are."

BRIAN/HOODIE:

Gives you that big ol' toothy grin when he sees you cheering from the stands

They don't have cheerleaders for baseball games but it warmed his heart to see you all in uniform cheering for him

Makes sure to show off even though it's not exactly hard for him to do so

When he hits a home run he absolutely adores the way you go wild! Sprinting around the bases and giving you a wave and blowing a kiss as he touches home

As the inning changes and he's put in the role of pitcher he makes sure to pose all nice for you. He gives you a show. You better take damn pictures

Also signs a baseball for you ;]

"TICCI" TOBY:

Oh he gets so shy

I doubt the soccer team knows he has a s/o so seeing someone cheering for him was certainly new

As the game gets going he tries his hardest to focus. He is the goalie after all, most of the game relies on his skill.

He doesn't have to try to impress you with his skill

When he throws himself to the side to block the ball he hears your joyful cheers and he can't help but smile

He just saved the game after all

After they've said their good games, he'll run over to you and give you a sweet kiss. You better bet he makes you wear his jersey to school the next day

"D-didn't expect to see you here! My little ch-cheerleader!"

Hiiii congratulations in 1k you deserve it so much!

not sure if this is how to request a prompt for your 1k celebration but can I get "reader gets injured" with Simon please

1K Prompts

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Injury, Hospitals, Angst with Happy Ending, Indirect Mentions to Simon’s Abuse

Summary: He hasn't done it in a long while.

 Word Count: 1.8K (Not Edited)

There is nothing in the world.

It all disappears in a blur as his mind races. His mind, his thoughts, are faster than the car. He can’t make out anything zooming past his window, barely even recognizes the colors or the feel of the wheel under his hands. He’s jittery, highly agitated as he yells and slams on his horn. He doesn’t even process the words he’s saying, doesn’t even know if they’re even words. Maybe they’re just sounds, grunts and wordless screams. He doesn't know, doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter right now. Nothing matters right now. Nothing will matter until he makes it to the hospital. 

He needs a new car, he thinks. This one is too slow. It’s max isn’t fast enough. At this point, it’d be faster for him to get into a car accident and be driven in an ambulance to the hospital than this piece of junk truck. It makes him grit his teeth, swerving in and out of lanes and breaking traffic laws he doesn’t care to keep count of. He can vaguely make out Price’s car behind him, Johnny in the car behind Price’s. Don’t say that, he can hear Price say in his head, Don’t say that, Simon. Especially not now. 

Great, now his own fucking thoughts are making him feel guilty. 

He doesn’t really park, he runs over the curb actually. It causes everyone to jump back, throwing mean words at him that don’t land. The keys are still in the ignition, trusting Gaz will take care of it. Who gives a damn about that fucking car anyways, Simon thinks. He’s already made up his mind that he’s getting a new one. A sports car maybe, not for the looks but for the speed. He’ll have to do research on the fastest car money can buy when he’s home. When both of you are home. 

The cold air of the hospital makes him shiver once he runs inside. He looks lost for a second, eyes scanning the new environment for his goal. His eyes skip over the reception desk before rapidly darting back. Once his eyes lock on it, he walks with purpose. His eyes don’t stray, effectively maneuvering his body around the busy waiting room and lobby until he’s right in front of it. He doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until he plants them on the desk. His fingers tremble and jerk, skin flinching with the feeling of absolute dread running through his body. 

“How ca-”

“Last name Riley. Car accident.” He cuts the receptionist off. His voice has the hard edge he uses with the recruits. It doesn’t faze the receptionist. 

He’s impatient as they tap away at the computer, their eyebrows furrowed and they ask Simon for more information like your first name and sex. Simon gives them irritably, almost blowing a fuse when they ask for his relationship with the patient. 

“Spouse.” 

He has never been annoyed to declare that to someone before. But he finds little reason to be prideful and happy right now. 

“Still in surgery, but you and your group can wait in the waiting room to the left. A surgical doctor should be out shortly with news.”

Simon turns around, not even noticing the rest of 141 standing patiently behind him. His eyes scan them, nodding before he turns and walks robotically to the waiting room. Price politely thanked the receptionist for him before following after Simon. Simon throws himself into an empty seat, leg bouncing against the floor. His eyes find the doors that lead to surgical suits. His arms wrap around his chest, attempting to keep his racing heart in his chest. A harsh breath is exhaled from his nose, getting caught under his balaclava. It gets a few stares from some of the families in the waiting room, some clutching their smaller children closer to them. Simon would usually take it off for the sole purpose of not drawing attention to himself, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Or, he doesn’t feel like he can. It feels like it's the only thing keeping him together right now. If he takes it off, he’ll come crumbling down. The fake composure will die away with the exposure and he’ll die before knowing if you’re alright. Depending on the answer, he might not make it through the night. 

A cup is placed in front of his face and Simon follows the hand up to the face of Johnny. Simon takes it, the warmth feeling strange against his skin. He doesn’t drink from it. Johnny and him don’t exchange words, turning to take the seat across from him and next to Gaz. Price is in the chair next to Simon, all four of them silent. Johnny stares at Simon, Simon stares at the floor, Price flips through outdated magazines from the coffee table beside him, and Gaz is surveying the space. All of them are still clad in their military gear, just gotten off the plane when Simon-- when Ghost-- got the call. Gaz cracks his knuckles and Simon has to bite his tongue to rest the urge to tell him to shut up. 

He resorts to counting the seconds that pass in his head. He loses count whenever the steel doors open and a doctor and nurse comes out. His head snaps up, the boys following his line of sight as the doctor peers over at the clipboard the nurse has. He prepares to shoot up when the doctor’s surgical mask shifts with jaw movement. He starts back from one when the name being called isn’t Riley. He thinks his heart shrinks with every name that passes. Price always pats his back with a ‘the next one, mate’. 

Sometimes between the seconds and names, Simon finds his forehead leaning against his folded hands. His eyes are shut tightly and he tries to do something he hasn’t done in a long time, something he has believed to not work for a long time. Simon sits and he prays. He prays. He doesn’t remember if there is a process he's supposed to follow. He only remembers all his past prayers had been rushed, hiccuped statements made after his father left his room or when he heard the yelling in the kitchen. They never got answered.

Is he supposed to start with something? Is he supposed to have a rosary or a bible or something in his hands? His hands are still covered with dirt from the battlefield, he reeks of smoke and gunfire. Is he clean enough to be praying? Does God or whatever up there care? He hopes they don’t, hopes they give him a free pass just this once. He hopes they do it for your sake. He hopes and prays and hopes some more. Is it enough? It doesn’t feel like enough. 

Is Simon supposed to sweet talk them? Butter them up until their egos are fed and find him worthy of listening to. He isn’t good at that. Or does he need to be direct? Demanding what he wants and not backing down until he gets it? He’s really good at that. You would probably know what to do. Even if you don’t, you’d probably have a solution that makes sense. Everything makes sense when it's you. You make everything make sense. Simon doesn’t know how he lived so long without it. He doesn’t want to be reminded. 

He debates getting up. Debates if he should go to the receptionist and ask them where the hospital’s chapel is. Maybe he’ll find whatever the fuck the religious connection guy is and ask them how to pray. Ask them to teach him. Or maybe he’ll ask them to pray for you. He’s sure they have a better chance of being answered then he does. But a fear glues him to his seat. What if he leaves and your name gets called? What if he isn’t there when it happens? What if he isn’t there for you again? He sits and he hopes and he prays. 

Please. Please, whoever, whatever can hear me, don’t take them from me. Stop taking people I care about away from me.

He hopes it is enough. He hopes they hear him and they remember the shit they put him through. He hopes they take pity on him. Simon hates when people feel sorry for him. He hopes they feel really bad and really sorry and really, really awful for what he had to go through. He hopes they find him to be the most pitiful human there ever was to exist. He hopes it's enough to save you. He hopes they decided to be nice to him today. 

And they are. Holy fuck they are. 

The doctor comes out, a nurse with clipboard following three times. Simon gets up the fourth time, before the name is even called. Price and Johnny and Gaz stand with him. 

“Riley.”

He flies. He flies across the room, ‘Here. I’m here. That’s me.’ He doesn’t know if he says those words aloud or in his head. The doctor watches him approach and Simon almost collapses to the ground when his surgical mask moves. He doesn’t catch everything, his mind being too slow to follow. Traumatic brain trauma. Bleeding. Successful. Lucky. Strong. Fighter. Okay. 

Okay, okay, okay. 

He thinks Price keeps him upright when he grabs his arm to pat him in the back. Simon grabs him back, pulling him close and his shoulders shake as he hides his face. He feels like a kid, crying into his captain’s shoulder as relief washes over him. Price squeezes him. The two of them say nothing, and Johnny and Gaz excuse themselves to get everyone food from the hospital cafeteria. 

Later, Simon finds himself in your hospital room. The chair is slightly more comfortable than the ones in the waiting room. The boys have gone home by now, promising to drop by and telling Simon to keep them updated. Usually, constant noise would irritate Simon. But he finds himself thankful every time the heart monitor beeps, praying the noise never stops. He must have dozed off because he’s confused when he feels the slight rubbing on his hand. The sound of the heart monitor is different, still consistent but a bit faster. 

He pulls his head from his arms, propping his chin on his forearm as his gaze drifts to your face. Your eyes are half-lidded and sleepy, face drenched in exhaustion. You are so absolutely beautiful that it's devastating. It punctures his lungs and deflates his body of any breath he will ever take. His heart beats rapidly, hand squeezing yours tightly as his spine straightens. He has to resist the urge to pull you to him and crush you against his frame. 

You give him a dopey smile, one stained with tiredness and the remains of the anesthetic. 

“Hi.”

Your voice is croaky and your speech is slurred. It’s beautiful and the most lovely sound to exist. 

Simon brings your knuckles to his chapped lips. He presses a firm kiss to them, eyes squeezed shut so tightly that a few drops of water drop onto your skin. 

“Hi.”

His voice is just as croaky and just as beautiful.

Got a little carried away with this one.

Agreed 😣👌

Why is white hair so attractive, like, I don't get why I just see white hair and I'm like 😍

Thinking about re-writing my super huge fanfic as an original story and making the main character white haired cause unf *bites lip*

Before I wrote my 1,300 page book I never had the attention span to write more than five pages. My book wouldn't have made it past 37,000 words if not for the fans it accumulated who gave me the push I needed to keep writing until I'd hit 340,000 words and finished the story four years later.

That story is now on it's way to 1 million reads on wattpad, and has 62,000 hits on Ao3.

What inspired me to write a 1,300 page book when I'd never had the attention span to finish more than 5 pages prior?

...

Gordon Ramsay 😂

Wattpad

Hell's Smitten (Gordon Ramsay x Reader)

Accepted under the mentorship of your idol and the world's hottest chef Gordon Ramsay, you must prove your skill and de...

i have a request that I’m not sure you’d want to do but, it’s a school a/u. How would the creeps be if they got high at school with their s/o 🐈

LOVE this idea!! Only using the mature creeps!

HIGH AT SCHOOL - CREEPS SCHOOL AU:

JEFF THE KILLER:

Doesn't smoke a whole bunch and certainly doesn't get that high

You have to remember he has a football career to think about!

If he got drug tested he'd be absolutely fuckkked

If/when he's high at school, he's a total fool. Cracking jokes, acting stupid, the works.

JANE THE KILLER:

Doesn't smoke since she's in choir

She thinks it damages your voice

Honestly effects her ability to think and focus so she doesn't like it

If she were to get high she'd be a mess. She'd have no clue what to do with herself. She needs to sit the fuck down and do nothing until it wears off

NINA THE KILLER:

Smokes socially!

Only at parties or with friends

Absolutely doesn't smoke when she has to cheer, she wants her head in the game

Doesn't change all that much when she's high at school. Just a bit more talkative!

KATE THE CHASER:

Stoner. She smokes all the time.

Like I said before she's rather reserved and quiet with her achievements and work. It's the same thing with this. You can probably tell by the way she dresses but she won't tell you unless you ask all the right questions

But! Since she's literally a track star, she makes sure to do breathing exercises and extra warmups so she's still in great shape

Exactly the same as always when she smokes at school. She's high a lot so she's gotten used to having to focus

CLOCKWORK:

Only smokes with the proxies (kate,toby,tim,brian)

Like Kate she does all the breathing and extra warmups before basketball games or even practice. She puts out her A game

But when she's in the art rooms? Oh girl is high as fuck.

If she smokes with the proxies before school, she'll make her way to the art room to be alone and let her creativity flow.

"TICCI" TOBY:

STONERRR. Just look at this man. He smokes for sure.

Probably smokes before games but it doesn't effect his performance at all

Loves smoking with the proxies, honestly loves sharing a joint with anyone if they ask! Super chill about it

Just like Nina, he just gets more social when he smokes! Also such a giggler when he's high

TIM/MASKY:

Not really a weed smoker but avid cigarette smoker. We already knew that though

But if he is smoking weed, it's in small doses and only around the ones he trusts

I feel like he freaks out when he smokes weed. Hallucinates and all that

It's almost like he's on crack when he's high at school. Probably scratching his arms a lot, looking around trying to catch the hallucination before it disappears

BRIAN/HOODIE:

Another stoner. Like he's up there with Kate in the level he smokes.

High all the time, even during the championship baseball game. He's still throwing strike after strike and being the ace player

Hosts parties after games too, you better bet there's joints for days there. Wax too.

Like I said, high all the time. So he's pretty normal, super chill and laid back. Doesn't effect his performance at all

EYELESS JACK:

Only smokes when Nina's around since she only smokes socially. He's pretty much the same

Also just a weekend smoker. He doesn't like how it clouds his head when he's trying to focus on schoolwork.

He's an honor student after all. He has to keep his mind in it

Struggles when he's high at school. All the words seem to morph together on the pages and his head is all cloudy. He just feels like he needs to take a nap and try the day all over again

THE PUPPETEER:

Probably the one who smokes the absolute most. Again, look at this man.

He says it helps his creativity flow, but I don't know how much I'd believe that

Doesn't share his stuff at all though.

Kinda like Toby he's a giggler, but more on the chuckle side? Cracks some jokes but he's not all that much different since this pretty much is normal for him

Reblog if your blog is boopable-safe so you can get all the (probably new) achievements. I don’t care about notes I just want boops

➸ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʟɪᴇᴜᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛ!ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ

pairings: simon "ghost" riley x female!reader

a/n: i wrote this for the "praise/degradation" kinktober prompt and it could fit both jake sully and ghost so i decided to publish it for ghost. is it self-plagiarism to just copy paste it and post it for dilf!jake, too? asking for a friend

warnings: pwp under the cut (18+ mdni), pet names (doll, love, princess, kid), implied age gap, slight degradation, some praise, semi-public i guess??

wc: >400 words

ghost masterlist (x)

“Feels… so… good… fuck!”

Bouncing on your lieutenant's cock in a hidden bush after excusing yourself from target practice was not on your list of things to do today, but then again… it never was. But you just couldn’t help it, not when there he was, so fucking hot, giving orders, showing trainees how to shoot all the different guns in the army's arsenal, not when your underwear was uncomfortably sliding against your swollen folds, dripping in slick. The people will be fine practising on their own for a while, right? After all, the target was right there, all they had to do is… aim at it… right? 

“Fucking hell, kid…” Ghost's voice was gravelly and low, the thick accent mixing beautifully with the gritty groans that escaped him as you twitched around his length with every thrust that threatened to bruise your already aching cervix. It was maddening, the pace he set, the way he couldn’t help but buck his hips upwards to be even deeper in your tight, soaked pussy, the need to be closer, to feel you, to fill you, ever present and ever growing.

“You look so good taking my cock. So good.” 

The best you can do in response is a faint moan, so focused on maintaining the pace he set, thoughts overflowing with how good he felt, how much it all was, how when he pulled the mask slightly upwards and captured your nipple in his mouth, sucking while circling your sensitive clit with his thumb, it all made tears prick at your eyes painfully and free flow down your face as the orgasm drew closer and closer with each passing moment. 

“Couldn’t even wait 'til the end of practice, could you? My desperate, needy slut. Always have to have all your little holes stuffed, eh?” 

HIs words always had such power to bring you to your knees, or to your orgasm, the feeling overtaking all of your senses, white noise all you were able to see and hear as he continued abusing your convulsing cunt. 

“Squeezing me so well, gonna make me cum all over this pretty pussy. But I’m not done yet, love.” 

It took no effort on his part to pull you off him and manhandle you in a new position, barely managing to hold your own weight on all fours, so spent and overwhelmed from the onslaught of sensations he was so good at eliciting in you and for you. 

“Come on, doll. Face down, ass up. Gotta make sure to fill you up until everyone on that field knows how much you like being fucked until you’re dripping from all sides.”

you: wait, babe… we can’t fuck yet… you aren’t wearing protection…

your vampire lover: protection? what do you mean prote- oh ok so fuck you first of all

you, holding these: