#also if i ever do anything with the time travel thing it’d have to be a collection of snippets rather than something with a full storyline
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Fic writer ask: 1, 2 and 4
i’ve answered 1 and 2 here, so here’s 4 - a story idea you haven’t written yet. i have a lot of ideas but some of them are more vaguely defined than others, and some i would probably just not write, because they’re more ambitious than i’m currently willing to commit to (i’m so bad at multi-chapter stuff).
i’m super fascinated by those time travel AUs i’ve seen for this fandom a few times, i’d love to do one like that at some point (have a few disconnected snippets in my notes for it, even), except luffy is not the one doing anything, and it’s actually all of his nakama who remember everything that went down in the future and set about fixing/altering it.
something i’m more likely to realistically write is a kuina lives zosan fic, where kuina is just around and is competing with zoro for the title of the greatest swordsman. she crosses path with the straw hats a few times and proceeds to hate sanji on sight, because the moment he starts his whole “i won’t fight a lady” shtick, she sees red. “what do you MEAN you’re on a crew with this guy zoro. he thinks i’m weak. yes you do, you blond asshole, don’t interrupt me, why else won’t you fight me-”
i also have so many different ideas for ace lives fics because. well i love ace and fix-its and sibling relationships in media so he's like catnip for me. one in particular i have in mind is where shanks's crew yoinks him off the marineford battlefield and fixes him (listen it's one piece, a hole punched through your chest can't be THAT deadly). and then on an unrelated note shanks has to contact the revolutionary army for some reason, and oh look the chief of staff's been having a moment here-
[ask list]
#tysm for the ask!! love talking about my plot bunnies#i WISH i wrote things half as efficiently as i can get ideas lmao maybe then i wouldn’t have so many drafts#also if i ever do anything with the time travel thing it’d have to be a collection of snippets rather than something with a full storyline#because i must be honest with myself and say i am unable to commit to a full storyline for it lol#but THAT would require me to get over my inability to publish things that aren’t a full and entirely coherent story#i have so many hangups 😔#but i do really like the snippets i have written for it so maybe one day!!
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Ur MM fic was soooo good!!! Pls write more of him I beg😭🫶🏾
A/N: no need to beg, you know I got you anon! Make sure to show some love to @planetblaque and @soft-persephone for their MM fics!
Leaving Me Sleepless
Pairing: Neighbor!Mother's Milk x Neighbor!Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader
Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Age gap, more so late 20s/early 30s, but can be read however. Dom Mother's Milk, Cursing, PIV, SMUT, FLUFF, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and female receiving), D/s elements, Sorry if I missed others. Season 1 MM, no spoilers for the show. Divorced MM. Brat reader. Corruption kink if you squint. Possession Kink. Size kink.
Summary: You were ready to start a new chapter of your life, moving into your first house all by your lonesome. Done with waiting on others to get their lives together, you were finally pursuing the life you wanted. You had everything planned, until you didn’t.
Marvin comes to your rescue, turning a stressful day into something sweet and full of laughs. An easy friendship builds between you. Only you can’t wait any longer to see if this is one sided. You decide to start toying with Marvin, just to see how long it would take him to break.
AO3 Link
Word count: 10,515k
A/N: I don't know what it is about this man. But enjoy my brainrot! Love him dowwwnnn. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.
It wasn’t your intention to toy with your hot neighbor, Marvin. When you moved in, you were prepared to do it all yourself. You got a moving company to help you pack up your shit from your ex-boyfriend’s house. You successfully transferred your utilities to your new place, leaving that broke motherfucker with no power for a weekend. You were on top of it.
Okay, so not everything was so smooth. You got a flat tire on the freeway, the moving van wrote down your address wrong, and when you arrived at your new place, no moving truck to be found, you had a breakdown about it. To be fair, it was a hard and emotional day. This was the first time you bought a house, did it by yourself, and you were nervous as hell.
Your family wasn’t the most supportive. They kept asking you if you were sure you were ready and what were you going to do with that big house to yourself? As if finally having some alone time and gaining safety for the first time in your life was a bad thing. So not having the moving truck at your new place was like an ill omen.
You started to doubt yourself. What would you do with a house to yourself? You were responsible for everything now. It was on you to take the trash out, keep up with the lawn and maintenance, cook meals, wash your sheets. The pressure of your decision crushed you to pieces until the dam broke and the tears were falling like crazy.
You hadn’t called the moving truck just yet. You needed time to break down before you pulled yourself together. You were a strong, independent woman and you were going to be okay. Like you always were.
Marvin was just getting home from wherever he spent his time and saw you in front of your new place, standing on the curb and trying hard to hide your crying. You only had a few bags in your car, essential things you knew you didn’t trust with the movers. Smart thinking, but it wasn’t a bed. It wasn’t cookware. It wasn’t anything you needed to have a successful first day in your new place. The sun was losing its heat, traveling across the sky like the moon was on its heels.
Marvin called out to you, walking up like he would single-handedly solve all of your problems. He wore a white T-shirt with the Wu Tang symbol on it. Medium wash jeans and white sneakers. He wore a gold chain as well, complimenting the golden hue of his skin.
He also had a thick beard on his beautiful face. Neat and well-trimmed. But his eyes were the kindest you’d ever seen. In just a few minutes, it’d be easy to fall into the brown depths and never come up for air.
You swiped at your eyes and smiled at him. “I’m okay, I’m fine!” You said, waving him off. Why was it that fine ass men always popped out when you looked like hell? You were currently wearing raggedy blue sweats with mysterious stains all over, some from bleach, paint, or whatever other dirty job needed done. Your lavender shirt had seen better days, the graphic on it cracked and nearly faded away. Your tennis shoes were peeling in one corner, but these were your most comfortable and didn’t want to give them up.
And ugh, your hair. You looked tore up from the floor up and you did not need your neighbor meeting you like this. Why couldn’t he catch you on your way out to the club or out to eat with your friends? You had a new, gorgeous leopard print dress in your moving van, with sexy three hoop gold earrings that were calling your name. Fuck me heels that made your ass look amazing. Why couldn’t he meet you then?
“Is everything alright? Are you sure?” He asked.
God, that voice. You smiled and nodded, clutching your phone for dear life. He needed to move away, now. You wish the neighbors were out when you were scoping the house. If you knew he looked like that, you would have never shown up like this. The embarrassment was killing you.
“I’m okay, Mr…?” You asked.
He smiled. “Call me Marvin, please,” he said.
You introduced yourself. Sexy name matching a sexy man. He was so damn broad and thick. Just how you liked ‘em. But no, no, you promised yourself to focus on you right now. On getting this house set up exactly how you liked it. You weren’t going to have a traditional housewarming party. You weren’t going to invite all that negative energy into your new place. This new period in your life was about you, getting your mental stronger, your life together. Focus on your goals and finally getting started on your lifelong dreams. Nowhere in that plan you dreamt up with your best friend did it include a man.
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?” He asked. He sounded and looked so sincere, that your shoulders slumped and you sighed, looking down the street like it would magically conjure the moving truck.
“It’s silly,” you said and rolled your eyes, waving away his concern.
Marvin smiled and tilted his head. “Try me. You’d be doing me a favor actually. I only had plans to go inside, grab a beer, and pig out. You’d be saving me from getting fat and lazy,” he said, patting his stomach. That smile.
You couldn’t help but giggle, checking him out. And letting him know that you were checking him out. “There’s no chance in hell you’d end up fat and lazy,” you told him. He chuckled and rubbed his beard, his thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth.
“You never know. These things add up. And you’re changing the subject,” he said.
You sighed and suppressed a smile. Fine. Fine. You broke down and told him the whole ordeal. That you were moving in and waiting for your truck. Marvin cursed softly, excusing his words, and asked for the number to the movers.
He used his own phone to call them, getting in their asses about taking advantage of you. They knew exactly where your house was and if they weren’t here in thirty minutes, giving you a steep discount for their actions, then he’d report they ass on their website, on social media, and anyone else who’d listen.
Your mouth dropped listening to him. He was in complete control, not taking an ounce of slack from the movers. All of your interactions with them had been cordial, but there were enough times where you thought you were on them too much. You were trying to escape your ex’s house before he came home. You felt like a screaming harpy, telling them to move their ass.
A little bass from a man and suddenly they could hop to. Fucking pigs. When Marvin was done, he smiled. “There, they’ll haul ass now. I’m sorry they did that to you,” he said.
You waved him off. “No way, you’re my hero. I would’ve been arguing for an hour to get them to show up with enough daylight to put things where I need,” you said. The relief you felt was almost indescribable. All thanks to a friendly neighbor. With no wedding ring, you might’ve observed.
“You wanna come inside and wait? I mostly have beer, but maybe some juice? Water?” He asked.
You bit your lip, feeling awkward and gross but he was just so helpful. You didn’t want to give that up just yet. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be a bother?” You asked.
“I promise,” he said.
You nodded. Well, fuck it. You followed him to his place, stepping inside his place hoping for the best. You were blown away actually. His place smelled amazing, light like lemon and something breezy or tropical.
The place was spotless, not a cushion out of place. His living room was nice and spacious, with a thick rug underneath the couch and coffee table. You sat down while Marvin went to grab you some water.
Marvin asked you questions about yourself and you asked him questions about him. You found out he was divorced, amicably, and they shared a beautiful daughter together. He worked with inner city youth at a detention center, keeping knuckleheads from making dumb ass mistakes.
The more he talked, the more you started to see a clearer picture of him. He paid extra care to cleanliness letting you know that he’d never, ever tolerate being in your place. You weren’t a slob, but you weren’t Johnny on the spot either. Sometimes dishes piled up or you lounged in bed all day. You could already see and hear the arguments, the disgusted looks, the pot shots.
You subtly sighed. Too bad. He’d make someone a fine ass husband one day. While you talked, the moving van showed up in record time. You tried saying bye to Marvin, but he insisted on staying to make sure the movers didn’t try to get over on you again.
Thanks to Marvin, the movers moved the heavy shit where it needed to go and brought your boxes to the rooms they were assigned to. You had more than enough time to unpack what you needed tonight, clean out the bathtub and kitchen, so that you could bathe in your new place and cook in your new place.
You offered to cook something for Marvin, but he excused himself, saying he took up enough of your time. He hoped you had a good night and now that you were neighbors, he told you not to be a stranger. He was like a buff fairy godmother and you couldn’t stop thanking him as he left.
“No thanks, necessary. I’m just glad I was around. Did you get a chance to change the locks yet?” He asked.
You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought to do so. “If you buy some new locks, I can install them for you. Get some with a longer latch,” he said.
You stared at him blankly with an adorable smile on your face. “And that means…?” You asked.
Marvin chuckled. “If you like, I’m free tomorrow and we can go to the store. Get some things to make sure you’re safe in here,” he said. He stood in the doorway, framed by a darkening sky. The white shirt glowed against his skin. He looked like an angel. Or maybe that was just your thinking because of how incredible he was.
“I’ve taken up enough of your weekend,” you said, looking down and playing with invisible lint by the door.
Marvin waited until you looked back at him to smile. “You can’t be a bother if I volunteer. Here, take my number, and if you need anything, just call or text. No matter the day or time,” he said.
You took his number and gave him yours, giggling to yourself. “You don’t like me being here all by my lonesome, do you?” You asked.
He chuckled and nodded. “I know, I sound like an old-fashioned old man. You can absolutely take care of yourself. But I’m around, okay?” He asked.
You nodded, thanked him again, and finally let him leave your stoop. You closed and locked the door behind you, leaning back against it, and squealed to yourself. He was an impossible dream. An angel. A hero. Your savior. You’d still be outside crying your eyes out while the movers hemmed and hawed about your most precious possessions.
You daydreamed for a few minutes, letting the crush finally take over. There may never be a future, but he was sweet. And fun. And so caring it hurt.
You threw on some tunes and started dancing around your space, getting the essentials cleaned up that day. You started in the bathroom, the one place you refused to let get dirty. First, because it grossed you out and second, because you liked taking relaxing baths with candles and music.
And so on it went. Marvin did take you to the hardware store the next day, being patient with you and explaining why you needed this or that. Some of the items you genuinely did know about, but he was so adorable explaining things to you. He was patient, never acted put out, and never made you feel dumb for asking so many questions.
Perhaps it was then that it all started. Acting ditzy whenever he came around. Not enough to be obvious. But just so helpless unless he swooped to the rescue. And you always thanked him by calling him your hero, heaping praises on him, and making sure to grip his thick biceps and looking into his eyes as you expressed your gratitude.
As the weeks and months passed, you fell into an easy friendship with him. Your work hours aligned with his, sometimes arriving home at the exact same moment. Intending to just catch up for a few minutes, there were times you almost got sick standing outside in the cold air with him talking.
If he “happened” to make extra food, he made sure to bring it over and he promised that you were doing him the favor. If you “happened” to make extra food, you returned the sweet gesture, passing the same dishware back and forth.
You always texted first to make sure he didn’t have company. One day, he laughed riotously and told you that he wasn’t seeing anyone. And his friends weren’t the “come over and hang out” type.
“And you talk about me being in a house all by myself,” you scolded him playfully, and made sure to drop by just because. You told yourself that you were just being harmless, just making sure to repay him for being so sweet to you as a neighbor.
You weren’t sure when the teasing started. Whenever you talked to Marvin, it seemed like you were having a different conversation with your bodies. He made you warm all over. His presence and his smell already drew you in. But his protective nature and sense of humor made sure you were downright smitten.
You touched his arm or hand whenever you could. He’d find ways to step closer, or place his hand on the small of your back as he moved around you in the kitchen. Whenever you’d join him on the couch watching sports, you began to sit closer and closer together, thighs pressed together, and bumping shoulders.
But he never picked up on your hints. You weren’t even sure what kind of hints you were throwing out there so you couldn’t entirely blame him. You had a feeling that he just wouldn’t accept your place. It was why you were usually at his place and not the other way around. Did you want him to kiss you? Grab you? Snatch you up?
There were plenty of times you daydreamed about having your wicked way with him. What he’d look like when he let himself loose and grabbed you like he didn’t want to let go. Maybe he wouldn’t be into someone younger?
There were quite a few years separating you, but hell. The dating pool was ass nowadays. These men acted like they had no home training. Like they thought the best jewelry, cars, and clothes were enough to snare a woman but their dick game was just as terrible. A bunch of pretty packaging on trash.
Marvin looked like he’d fuck well. He moved precisely, taking care to make himself as un-intimidating as possible, as welcoming as possible. Sometimes you stared outside of your window when he got home from the gym. His dick bounced in his gray sweatpants, letting you know that he had more than enough equipment. But you were confused, lost, wondering if you just liked him because he made you feel safe when no other guy ever did. Not even your own dad.
Yeah, yeah, daddy issues. Whatever. You made sure to back away from Marvin when things sort of took a turn. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you. So it was best to back away and stop sending so many mixed signals. Besides asking Marvin to fix little things around your place. You made sure to clean up first.
One night, however, you were restless. Sleepless. You had opened your blinds in your bedroom, opening the windows as well to let in some cool air. You were unbearably horny. The porn and smut books weren’t cutting it. You threw on some sexy music, grabbed your favorite drink, and danced around your place in your panties and nothing else. Why not? You’d never done such a thing at your previous addresses, never feeling safe to do so.
You were feeling mighty good, teasing yourself, letting the anticipation build up before you broke out your Black Noir dildo, when you turned around. Marvin had entered his own bedroom. All this time, you didn’t know your bedrooms faced each other.
He had turned on his light, moving around his room. And the pervert in you watched. And stared. He took off the black shirt he had on, moving on to his pants. You looked away before you became too big of a pervert. But…it did give you a naughty idea. You dimmed the lights a little lower and continued dancing around your place, keeping your back turned to his window.
It may not work…but…you felt sexier. More alive. More naughty. Whether or not he actually saw something, it was enough to make you want to unplug your dildo and go to town right then and there. To imagine Marvin kissing all up and down your body, worshiping you. To get a sneak peak at the dick in his pants. You just knew he knew what to do with it. Felt it all over.
You were lost in your daydream, you turned around to grab your drink. You looked across the way at Marvin who seemed to be spazzing out. He was windmilling, stepping backwards, and you giggled as you pretended not to notice.
Interactions after that were…interesting. Marvin couldn’t look you in the eye after that. You’d ask and poke and prod, and he’d laugh it off, giving you some excuse about not being able to sleep. You pouted and continued to rely on him for little things. The sink wasn’t working? Call Marvin. Door was stuck? Call Marvin.
Every time, you walked him to the door asking if there was anything you could help him with and he’d only tell you he was happy to help, bid you goodnight, and then entered his house. The little minx in you couldn’t let it go. Had to see how far you could push him and what he’d do if he snapped.
You were thoroughly in love with your sweet neighbor and you wanted to torture him right out of his pants. Your bed was against the wall, opposite the door, so your windows were on the left. From what you could puzzle out, Marvin’s bed was similar. So if you happened to lay on the bed and pleasure yourself, there would be no mistaking what you were doing.
So you did just that. The first time, you were nervous as hell. You waited till you texted Marvin good night, that you were going to turn in early. He bid you goodnight and then you waited. Waited for him to enter his room and move around the space. All you saw was a dark shadow, but you knew that he was up here for you. Or you wished for that to be true in either case.
You had your own lights dark enough to not see anything, but dim enough to not mistake it for anything else. And you pleasured yourself with your vibrator, imagining that Marvin could see everything and was wishing it was him. You pictured him sitting in the window, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants, trying to resist touching himself. But the urge was too strong. Dick straining against his pants. So he’d take it out just to hold it. Just to relieve some of the ache.
But then he’d see your legs moving, your hands going in and out, rubbing across your titties, and he’d know. And he’d groan. That sexy, deep, needy rumbling like he just couldn’t help himself. He’d start slowly, just absently touching himself. Stroking himself to the image of you pleasuring yourself and knowing that he could do it better.
“Oh god, oh god,” you whined in the empty room, soft R&B music and the low vibrator the only sounds in the room. You wished it was his heavy breathing. His moaning in your ear. Was he a moaner? Did he moan while he was deep in it?
Your clit throbbed so you pulled the Black Noir dildo out of you and rubbed it against your clit. You moaned, breathing heavier. You pictured Marvin holding it there, torturing you. Just because he was sweet didn’t mean he couldn’t be mean sometimes, right?
The vibrations against your clit was torture and you held it there. Your hands weren’t yours anymore. They were guided by a phantom Marvin. For all you knew, he could be fast asleep at the moment. But to you, he was right in the room with you. He was holding the dildo against your clit and commanding you to hold it.
A dildo didn’t faze him. He knew women needed something extra to take them there. He was not intimidated by a vibrating toy when he knew his dick was everything you’d ever need. “Please,” you moaned, unable to help yourself.
Your belly twisted, clit throbbing painfully. Your thoughts were completely focused on phantom Marvin, picturing his shirt off, his powerful thighs exposed. You were no better than a man in the 18th century. A little bit of ankle and you were feral for Marvin. Overcome with thoughts of him.
You were about to cum so you plunged the black dildo into your sopping wet pussy and dialed up the vibrator. You screamed as you came, possibly calling out his name? You weren’t sure what you were saying as you had the most powerful orgasm of your life, back bowing off of the bed, legs shaking.
When you were done, you blinked into your dark room, staring up at the ceiling. Fuck. That was intense. And wrong. And so right, it hurt. You could learn to pick up after yourself some more, couldn’t you? Because if your fantasy was even a fraction of the real thing, you needed to fuck Marvin Milk.
Obviously, you had to consult the Council. Your circle of close friends that you trusted to tell you the truth. To see if you were tripping or if you should pursue this thing with Marvin.
“Girl, hell no!” Your friend, Story, exclaimed on the phone. You were currently on the phone with the Council, pleading your case.
“If his game is anything like the pics you sent, I’m honestly surprised you not knocking boots already,” your other friend, Yalonda, said.
“To be fair, she wanted to spend this time focused on her, not a man,” her last friend, Jayne, said.
“Right, thank you!” You said. You were currently making spaghetti, stirring the noodles and trying to gauge if they were done or not. You wanted to stop tossing noodles against the wall, but hell, how else were you supposed to tell?
“And who said focusing on Marvin is not focusing on herself? Part of self-discovery is exploration. Need I bring up Voldemort?” Yalonda asked, earning a circle of disgusted groans.
“Chile, that man dead as far as I’m concerned,” Story said.
“Raggedy bitch,” Jayne chimed in.
You chuckled, loving your friends more and more. “I don’t think I can play with this man like that, ya’ll. He sensitive,” you said.
There was a chorus of teeth smacking and grumbles. “But is he not grown? Like if you laid it out, would he not understand?” Story asked.
You sighed. Would he? You’d known him plenty of months, but you hadn’t gone deeper into either of your pasts. Because he was just a neighbor, really. But a neighbor you had so much in common with. You genuinely liked spending time with him. You loved his sense of humor, loved that he was so giving. You were a homebody, preferring to be in your own space and alone, rather than snuggled up underneath someone else. You got the sense that Marvin was the same. Preferring to keep his own company.
“You know how men get in they feelings when women treat them like bitches. Like shit, we took a page out of your book, playa! We trynna get like you and now it’s a problem,” Yalonda said.
“Preach! Speak on it!” Jayne said.
You giggled. “No one’s saying I got to marry the man. But I don’t think it’d be as casual as I’m picturing,” you said.
“There ain’t a casual bone in your body, honey. And that’s okay! You can still focus on yourself while getting dicked down,” Jayne said.
“But if Marvin come around talkin’ ‘bout he wants a relationship, now is she wrong or is he?” Story asked, taking the words right out of her mouth.
On and on it went. The decision was always left up to you, but still. You valued their input and it helped you realize that you cared about Marvin. Cared about how he took care of you. You didn’t have to blow this out of proportion. You could start light. There was a possibility that Marvin would be just fine with a casual affair. He had a life, you had a life, you were both adults.
“So what you gonna do?” Story asked. The line buzzed with bated breath from your friends. You stirred the meat, adding a teensy bit more oregano, when you sighed.
“I’m gon’ fuck that old man,” you said.
You pulled the phone away from your ear as the girls squealed, gassing you up. Reminding you that you were hot as hell and it was your divine right to fuck that old man. You giggled, now needing their help. You knew how to get guys interested, but with an older man like Marvin, you didn’t know what it would take. It was your first experience taking an older man seriously.
Would your usual tricks work? No. With the Council’s help, you figured that you’d have to go through with torturing him out of his pants.
You started the torture by ditching your comfortable, “let’s be friends” outfits and traded them for “Whoops, a little too tight” clothing. Lots of shorts. Lots of tank tops. Your first act was to make sure that you were outside, watering your grass, wearing short shorts and flip flops, bending over unnecessarily, waiting for Marvin.
Marvin arrived home just in time and got out of his car, his lips pressed together in disapproval. “Hey!” He called out.
You waved to him, your shirt lifting and giving him a peek at your body. He walked up his driveway, stopping to look over at you. There was a short concrete wall separating your properties, no taller than your ankles. You sauntered over, and grinned at him, taking your hand off the trigger.
The nozzle dripped with water and you collected the drops, rubbing it into your neck and chest. “Whew! It was hot as hell today, huh? Did you make sure to stay hydrated?” You asked.
Marvin swallowed and his eyes seemed unfocused, looking down somewhere on your body. You wish you knew where. Was he an ass man? A breasts man? You needed something more from him to guide you in the right direction.
“I should be asking you that,” he said, a smile crossing his face.
You waved him off. “You’re too sweet to me, Marvin,” you said.
He chuckled. “I promise I’m not,” he said.
You engaged him in more innocent conversation, telling him about your job, and he told you about his day. You reached out and squeezed his hand. “You’re so cool for what you do, Marvin. It takes a strong man to see what you do and still show up for those kids,” you told him.
He had the most adorable look on his face. You wondered if people praised him enough. Thanked him enough for everything that he did. You let him go and grinned. “Anywho, I should let you get inside and rest,” you told him.
He looked like he wanted to tell you something, so you looked at him and tilted your head. “Have a restful evening,” he said, nodded to you, and then turned around.
You bit your lip, watching him walk away, wondering if you didn’t have to torture him that long before he caved. He looked like he was torturing himself enough. Your core heated up, picturing him being just as smitten with you. Just as in lust. If he was rubbing himself raw in the shower to images of you in his mind.
You turned around and finished watering your lawn, heading back inside for the next phase of your torture.
You spent the week being mysteriously busy. Marvin had slowed inviting you over so you used that time to make yourself as unavailable as possible. A little toxic, but you got yourself dressed up and took yourself out as if you were going on dates. You managed to leave sometimes, just as Marvin was arriving home. Sometimes you’d wave, sometimes you pretended not to see him.
Friday night, you waited to leave in that leopard print dress you had, fuck me heels making your ass look fantastic. You heard his car pull up, saw the lights move across your living room. You waited a beat, then exited your home.
“Hey!” Marvin called. You pretended not to hear. You tapped away on your phone, giggling and smiling at nothing, as you made your way to your car, pulling up your strapless dress.
Marvin’s shoes crunched on your grass as he crossed your lawn, calling your name with a little more bass in his voice. You turned to him, a sweet smile on your face, and you watched him approach.
“Got another date?” He asked.
You bit your cheek to keep from smiling. “Marvin! You’re so sweet to worry! Yes, I’m going on another date. Do I look good?” You asked. You twirled, taking your time to show him every possible angle.
“Dressed like that?” He asked.
“You don’t like it?” You asked. You pouted, playing with your matching clutch bag.
“Whoa, hey, you look amazing. I just…” he trailed off, looking at your outfit. You let him, smiling to yourself, but then cleared your throat.
“You just…?” You prompted.
“I don’t want to overstep my bounds. I just hope these men are nice to you,” he said.
You giggled. “I’m not,” you said and continued to giggle. At Marvin’s confused face, you stopped and shrugged. “Obviously, I would like a nice man. But the dating scene sucks. You should be lucky you swore it off. These people out here are animals. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But a girl’s got needs, you know?”
“Needs?” He asked.
You nodded. “Oh yeah. All this hard work getting my place together. All the bullshit at work. I need to take the edge off too, you know,” you said.
“So the…” he started but then stopped.
“The what?” You asked, blinking innocently at him.
Marvin shook his head, rubbed his beard. “I’m overstepping, I’m sorry,” he said. He smiled. “Have a great night. Let me know when you get home safe and sound, okay?” He reached out and rubbed your elbow.
You deflated against your car, watching him walk away. What the hell was it going to take? You got into your car with a huff, all dressed up with no real destination in mind. Fuck it. You called the Council and decided to go clubbing. If you weren’t really going to fuck someone tonight, you can at least show off your outfit. Because you looked fucking amazing.
You spent the night putting Marvin from your mind. You danced, you flirted your way to free drinks, you babysat Yalonda, poor thing never able to keep up with ya’ll. When you made it home, all the lights were off in Marvin’s place. You threw him a middle finger as you let yourself into your place, wondering if all this effort was even worth it. If Marvin even wanted to have sex with you.
You spent the weekend in your feelings, moping around your place. You didn’t know what it would take to get Marvin into your pants. What were you missing? Why was he not interested?
After spending Saturday moping, you finally decided to wash the grime of the day from you. You went to turn your shower on, but nothing came out. The pipes groaned, a strange knocking sound, but no water. You huffed, checking for possible culprits. Your sinks still worked, but not your shower.
You groaned, cursing the shower head from here to kingdom come. You didn’t want to call Marvin for this. You wondered if Story or Jayne would let you borrow one of their men to come fix it. You went to your room in search of your phone, when you remembered that it was Story’s anniversary and Jayne’s husband was sweet but useless as hell when it came to handy work.
You stomped your foot, pouting, giving in to the temper tantrum coursing through your body. Your pride didn’t want to let you call Marvin for something so stupid. If he wasn’t interested in you, why didn’t he just say that? Why didn’t he shut your ass down? Why did he allow you to develop this stupid crush on him?
You really wanted a shower. You didn’t do anything all day, but you couldn’t relax without a bath. It was the one first-world problem you didn’t want to have. You liked ready and easy access to hot water. And now you didn’t have it. And it was probably too late at night to call anyone else.
You stomped your foot again, walking into your living room and taking a peek behind your blinds. Marvin was watching TV in his living room like an old man. You smiled, despite yourself. There was nothing sexier than a man who was comfortable in his skin and in his own company.
You sucked your teeth and finally dialed his number. You were in booty shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Not completely sexy, but not bad either. You held the phone to your ear while you scurried to your bedroom.
You may not be powerful enough to torture him out of his pants, but maybe direct seduction would work. You thought over every conversation you had with Marvin, every little self-deprecating joke he uttered, and wondered if he thought you wouldn’t be interested in him?
If he thought he was too old, too old-fashioned, or “overstepping his bounds”. Who the fuck even said something like that? Men who thought no one was interested in them. Poor baby. This was your last chance. If being direct didn’t help, then he was either gay or still hung up on his ex-wife or simply didn’t want you.
The phone rang a few times in your ear before Marvin’s rough voice picked up. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry to bug,” you started and Marvin chuckled.
“Didn’t I say you never bug?” He asked.
“Yes, but…”
“No buts. What do you need?” He asked.
Was he aware of how hot he was? Did none of the women in his life give him a fucking clue? Four little words out of his mouth, in his sinful deep voice, was enough to make you moan. Was he that blind?
You sucked your teeth and groaned. “My shower isn’t working. And feel free to say no! It’s just…” You paused to look through your lingerie. You didn’t want anything too revealing, like this was all a set up. But you wanted something that showed you meant business. None of what you owned fit the bill. You were used to younger guys. You wanted to get in, run their hands over your teddies or panties, and then get down to fucking. No foreplay. No talking.
“Just what?” Marvin asked. Was it your imagination or did his voice get rougher?
“It’s just, I get a little crazy about my showers. It relaxes me. Calms me down. I can’t live without taking a nice, long, hot, relaxing bath or shower,” you said. You shimmied out of your shorts and went to remove your oversized Tupac shirt when it dawned on you…you didn’t need anything fancy with Marvin. The point of direct seduction was to be direct.
Marvin chuckled softly. “Say no more, sweetheart. I’ll be right over with my tools,” he said. You said goodbye, but your pussy throbbed with his endearing words to you. He’d never called you such a thing before. You stood in your bedroom, momentarily dazed. You wanted to be his sweetheart. So damn badly you could taste it.
The doorbell rang, pulling you from your thoughts. Shit. Shit. You picked up your shorts off of the floor and threw them in the laundry basket, along with the clothes from the famous chair. You pushed it into your closet and then hurriedly walked to the front door, eyeing your surroundings.
Not the best, but luckily, you hadn’t left too much chaos in your wake getting ready this past week or moping today. You opened the door, grinning at Marvin. His eyes dropped to your legs for a moment before he looked back at you, smiling.
You opened the door further, waving him inside. He stepped in, head on a swivel. You wondered if he had a military background. Safe inside, you closed and locked the door. “Thank you for coming over. You sure you weren’t busy?” You asked.
Marvin shook his head. “I’m an old man. All I do is my job and go home. I must seem pretty boring, huh?” He asked.
You shook your head. Feeling nervous all of a sudden. You’ve seduced men before. It was a thrill every time. But this felt different with Marvin. Felt different because he meant more to you than any of those other flings. You wanted to please him. It shouldn’t be a radical concept but it was.
“You are the opposite of boring, Marvin. In fact, I think you’re pretty special,” you said.
Marvin laughed and shrugged his shoulders, walking deeper into your home. The kitchen was just in front and you prayed that he wasn’t looking at your dirty dishes. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to make you cringe.
“I’m surprised you’re home on a Saturday night. Why aren’t you out on a date?” He asked.
You didn’t answer, forcing him to turn around to you. You were still leaning against the door, your head tilted towards him. “I haven’t found what I wanted,” you said.
No games. No tricks. No attitude. You walked towards Marvin, okay sauntered, and when you got within his personal space, you looked at him. You locked eyes as you grabbed the toolbox out of his hands. You placed it on the nearest end table, taking his hands and leading him to the back of the couch.
“What do you want?” He asked, eyebrow lifted, a scowl on his face. Did he really not have a clue? No idea of what you were feeling? This whole time, you thought you were a neon sign. Professing how much you wanted to fuck him. How badly you wanted to be wrapped in his arms. Underneath him. Welcoming him into your body.
He wore another music shirt, N.W.A splattered across his chest. Gold chain gleaming in your warm lighting. Dark sweats. Dark shoes. He looked good enough to lick on. What a great idea, actually.
“You. I want you,” you said. You stared into his eyes, sinking slowly to your knees.
“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked. He tried to bend down, hands flying to your arms to lift you. You resisted, hands moving to his pants.
“I’m telling you that I’m crazy about you and that I found a great way to thank you,” you said.
“Thank me?”
“Yup. Thank you for welcoming me to the neighborhood, being sweet to me on my worst day, and becoming the best thing about my day, talking to you,” you said.
Marvin relaxed against the back of your couch. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said.
“I know. I want to. Please, Marvin? You’d be doing me a favor,” you said.
Marvin rested his hands on the back of the couch, so you began to tug his pants down. He wore nothing underneath, his thick dick bobbing up and down once freed. He was huge and growing by the second, as he stood at attention.
“What kind of favor?” He asked. He sounded less unsure and more amused. So you leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick.
“I cannot scratch this really particular itch I have. I’ve tried ignoring it, I’ve tried pleasing myself. And nothing worked. Not even picturing you using my vibrator on me,” you pouted, licking his tip.
“Don’t tell me that,” Marvin groaned.
“Don’t tell you what? That I masterbate? Or I do it with your name on my lips?” You asked.
Marvin groaned and tapped the back of your couch. “I didn’t think you’d want this from me. That dress the other day made me want to drag you back inside the house,” he said.
You chuckled, pussy clenching at his confession. So he did like you! Really liked you!
You gripped his dick, moving your hands softly up and down since he wasn’t properly lubed up yet. He groaned, looking down at you.
“I wanted you to,” you said.
Marvin chuckled. “I’ve wanted you since I saw you crying outside your house. I wanted to do anything to make you smile,” he said.
You sighed and rested your forehead against his thigh. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t be cute right now,” you said.
Marvin laughed again and his dick bounced. You looked up at him. “I’ve pictured you on your knees too. Felt like a pervert, stroking to the pics you’ve sent me,” he said, referring to the innocent selfies you sent him, trying to cajole a few out of him. Something to keep you going in between spouts of seeing him.
“You’ve jerked off to me?” You asked.
Marvin nodded. “Did you intentionally masterbate in front of your bedroom window for me?” He asked.
Your thighs tingled. He had been watching! The confirmation of it made you clench even more, wanting so desperately to rush this. To speed things along. To pounce on him and not come up for air.
You nodded. “I hoped you were watching,” you confessed.
Marvin smirked. “Is that right?” He asked.
You nodded and went back to nuzzling his dick. The sweet musk of him. He kept the hair here nice and trimmed, just like the rest of him. You were a little intimidated by it, but you were willing to try.
You opened your mouth and suckled the head. Marvin groaned, his hand flying to your hair but then backing away. You chuckled. “You can play with my hair,” you told him.
Marvin’s hand went back to your hair, scratching lightly. Your eyes rolled and you went back to suckling him down further. Damn. No one’s ever done that for you before. It activated your demon brain, taking off the kid gloves.
You sucked him down in one fell swoop. Marvin moaned, grabbing your hair and yanking painfully. You kept going, slobbering on his dick. Playing with his dick. Toying with it. Unleashing all that pent up horniness, disgusting daydreams, and filthy fantasies your mind had cooked up over the past few months.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marvin moaned. He gripped your hair tighter and you moaned, panties getting wetter by the second. You planned to ease him into this. Get used to the idea that you wanted him worse than an addict wanted a drink. Then you would ease him into your filthy mind. The way you turned into an absolute horn dog when you wanted someone.
You didn’t know what it was. Only that once you were locked in to someone, you burned bright and fast. You were into it all. Being dominated, being controlled, being at the mercy of someone else. It didn’t always work out well. Some men were just too weak to fit the bill.
But you needed to put it on Marvin. Needed him to know how serious you were. How this wasn’t casual to you. And you hoped it wasn’t for him. Because he was already sending hella signals that he was into you, that this wasn’t small. And you feared that once you got a taste, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Would cross oceans of time to get back to him and his glorious dick.
Your slobber dripped down your chin as you spat on it and then sucked him back down. The chorus of curses raining out of Marvin’s mouth was like music to your ears. The subtle praise was successfully turning your mind to mush.
“Fuck, I’m ‘bout to bust, sweetheart,” he groaned.
You renewed your efforts, gripping onto his thighs and sucking him down as far back as he would go. You slowly withdrew his dick from your mouth, feeling every vein and the edge of his mushroom head. Fresh precum leaked into your mouth and then you swallowed him all again.
“Shit,” Marvin said. “So fucking beautiful with my dick in your mouth,” he moaned.
You moaned around his dick, looking up at him and repeating your efforts. Getting faster and faster until Marvin gripped your head on either side and moaned. Cum pulsed into your mouth and you drank greedily. His dick throbbed, more leaking out. You suckled that down too.
“Oh shit, oh shit,” Marvin groaned. You slowly withdrew him with a pop and licked the corners of your mouth.
Marvin was sweating and his chest was heaving with his breaths. He stared at you like you were otherworldly. Something conjured from his mind and made flesh. You loved that look in his eye. You grinned and nuzzled his balls. His slick dick smeared across your face, but that was okay. You couldn’t stop touching him, being near him, pleasuring him.
“Stand up,” he commanded. You used his thighs for support as you stood up and shook out your aching legs. Your focus had been on making him cum in your mouth so you ignored your body’s protests. Now that you were back to the land of the living, your check engine lights came on.
Your feet burned with static as feeling returned, your knees groaning, and your thighs slightly shook. You used the end of your shirt to clean off the rest of your mouth, the saliva and cum you didn’t get to.
Marvin grabbed you by the elbow and shoved you down the hallway. You giggled from the way he manhandled you. He tossed you onto the bed and then went to work taking off his shoes and clothes. Fully naked before you, you sat up on your elbows to take in the full view of him.
Fuck, he was perfect. His body was thick in all the right places. Round belly but there was muscle underneath, arms big enough to crush melons, thick waist, and big sexy thighs. His sexy brown skin only seemed to shine brighter in your room. No shadows to hide behind, he was hands down the finest man you’d ever seen naked.
Marvin grinned at you and pushed your shirt up to expose your panties. He pinned your legs apart, staring at your clad center. He got to his knees, pulling your leg over his shoulder. “All this time? You’ve been teasing me on purpose?” He asked.
He pressed a thumb against your pussy and you moaned. The sensation was too much to your oversensitive clit. You squirmed on the bed and all he did was press a thumb there. Either you were just that horny, or you were that horny for Marvin. “Y-Yes,” you moaned, when he pressed his thumb in again.
“All the dresses, the dates, the intentional innuendos. You wanted me jealous, didn’t you?” He asked. He moved his thumb all around your pussy. Down the seam, down the sides of your panties, towards your entrance.
Your breathing increased, heart jumping in your chest. You were thoroughly turned on. Thoroughly ejected from your brain and into fantasyland. “Yes,” you moaned. You needed more. You needed him to move your panties to the side.
“Please, Marvin,” you begged.
Marvin pushed his nose into your pussy and took a deep breath. “Such a brat. Why should I reward you for being so bad?” He asked. His thumb pushed past the seam of your panties, pressing into the sides of your pussy and you moaned, pushing your hips down in an effort to get him where you wanted him.
“I’ve been good, I swear,” you said.
“You let those other men touch you?” He asked. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick thighs.
You never went on any dates and you wondered if you should fess up to that. However, there was a feral, animalistic glint in his eye that was turning you on even more. “A little, there was some kissing,” you said instead of the truth.
Marvin closed his eyes, jaw flexed, and then used his free hand to wipe his face. “What else did you let them do?” He asked.
His thumb played with the seam of your pussy but he didn’t push in further. Your essence pooled out of you, enough to let him slide without issue. But you needed him to touch your pussy. To stick a finger in, something. He was being so mean. And god, you fucking loved it.
“That’s it, I swear,” you said. Marvin looked at you, his eyes intense. You nodded. “I swear.”
Marvin removed his thumb, pressing it to his lips and suckling on your slick. You watched his eyes close, a low hum escaping him. He leaned up and then moved your panties to the side, tongue darting out to lick up from your pussy to your clit.
“Oh shit!” You screamed. His tongue flicked your swollen clit, causing some type of vibration that made your eyes cross.
“No one else touches what’s mine, understand?” He asked.
“What’s yours?” You asked. Marvin bit the inside of your thigh and you cried out.
“No one else touches what’s mine. Including you,” he said. He backed up his words with his tongue and lips, zeroing in on your clit and suckling hard.
You back bowed off of the bed, but you had no room to move. Marvin had you completely trapped and under his mercy. He licked and sucked, making out with your pussy or feasting on an entire meal. You grew wetter from fresh slick and his spit, suckling on you messy and loud. It was lewd, listening to how wet he made you. How turned on he made you.
“Oh, fuck, Marvin,” you groaned.
Marvin hummed greedily, still eating you out. He focused on your clit, bringing his hand up to dip into your weeping hole. His hand slipped in easily, messily. You clenched around his finger and moaned.
Marvin added a second finger, testing how much you could take. It’d been a minute but Black Noir’s dildo was oversized, playing up the stereotype. You were over Vaught for that, but shit, it was the only one close enough to satisfy your sexual appetite. So with two of Marvin’s fingers down to the knuckle, it wasn’t the biggest you’d ever taken. Still.
He knew how to explore with those fingers. Moving them in all kinds of different directions. Your moans and groans changed depending on what he was doing. And fuck if that wasn’t the point. He found exactly what got you going, what got you whimpering and clutching onto him, and your nails digging into his scalp.
Marvin moaned into your pussy, flicking his tongue across your clit. “I’ll prove that I’m the only man you need,” he said. He went back to suckling and then switched up again, rubbing his fingers against a tiny nub inside you. You exploded. Shattered. Broken into tiny, jagged pieces that scraped your vocal chords as you screamed out your release.
Marvin continued to eat you out, and rub against that nub. You went from one powerful orgasm to the next. Your leg shook on top of his shoulder. You made all kinds of unholy, unhinged sounds as you flopped on your bed.
You whimpered as you came down from the second one. Your bed was soaked beneath you. An entire puddle. “You made a beautiful mess, sweetheart,” Marvin said, sounding awed. Sounding reverent.
Your pussy clenched at his praise. Like that was all he wanted and you granted it to him. You whimpered again, shaking with aftershocks of your orgasm. You thought you were good at sex. You thought you knew how to put it down. Marvin was insane. He was in another league and it was making you feel a little insecure.
But then Marvin started kissing your thighs as he stood up. He helped removed your panties and then yanked you up by the shirt. You giggled as you fought with the big shirt, wishing you had opted to wear something easier to remove. Marvin giggled too, breaking the intense persona he adopted.
Freed, cold but welcome air hit your hardened nipples. Marvin kissed all over your big belly, all over your rolls, dips, and hips. He moaned after every kiss, like each new space was more delicious than the last.
“Fuck, you make me feel so good, Marvin. So fuckin’ good,” you panted. You were out of breath. Overheated. He made you feel like you could walk barefoot on the sun and not get get burnt.
Marvin groaned, kissing up to your chest. He took his time, suckling one nipple into his mouth and then turning his attention to the other. Your knees snapped to his waist, holding him in. Your pussy began throbbing again in record time.
“Fuck,” you moaned.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Can you give me one more? Can you make another mess for me?” He asked, kissing each question into your chest.
You shook your head. Hell naw you couldn’t give him one more. Was he crazy? Another one? He wanted another one after that previous explosion? You wouldn’t survive it.
“Where’s your toy?” He asked.
“What?” You asked, fresh dread making your heart sink.
Marvin got up from the bed and went to your nightstand, opening it and finding his prize. He chuckled, flipping it around while he found the on switch. The dildo started vibrating and he looked from it to you.
“This what you into, huh?” He asked.
You giggled and shook your head. “I know they’re trash but they sure know their client base,” you said.
Marvin nodded and stepped close to you. And yes, his dick was bigger. Of course it was bigger than the toy. You were out of your league in more ways than one, but he’d been nothing but gentle with you, even while he was doing his own brand of torture.
He brought the dildo to your clit. You began to moan, pushing against the toy. It was on the lowest setting but it was like heaven against you. You were too sensitive as it was. Marvin played with your essence and the toy, swirling the tip around your clit.
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he said. “You don’t know how many mornings I woke up, humping the shit out of my bed, trying to hold onto my dreams,” he said.
Oh shit. Marvin’s words went straight to your heart. Why did he have to be so….him? So open, so caring, so filthy? You were going to collapse from it all.
“Marvin, please,” you whined. Your voice shook. Body so warm and sweaty, mind gone. He broke you down in more ways than one and you once again marveled at him.
“Is this what you do when you masterbate? Tease yourself? I bet you do,” he cooed at you. He turned up the vibrator, the vibrations more intense and making your teeth chatter. Your toes curled, trying to stave off another orgasm. You weren’t joking. You were really going to collapse from this one.
“Hey, look at me sweetheart,” he said. Your eyes turned to his and he smiled. “You’re okay. You can let that shit go. I know you like to tease yourself. Play with yourself. ‘Cause you know exactly what turns you on, huh?” He asked.
You nodded, staring into his eyes. You were struggling to breathe but it grew easier focusing on him and not the fact that you were getting ready to combust. “And I can’t wait to get to know every spot, every moan, everything that makes your eyes roll,” he continued.
“Oh, shit, Marvin, Marvin,” you said, words rising with your panic. You were just there, just at the precipice. Your nails dug into his arm but he showed no indication that it hurt him. He was indestructible. Your hero, your savior.
Marvin leaned in, arm flexing with supporting his weight on the bed. He suckled a nipple back into his mouth, teasing it, rolling it between his teeth. The bite of pain sent a ripple down to your pussy and you throbbed.
“You’re a brat but you know when to give in, don’t you? There’s only so long you can tease yourself before you get greedy, huh? ‘Cause your spoiled ass always gets what she wants. Go on and let that shit go,” he cooed.
Marvin turned the setting up to its highest setting, pressing it firmly against your clit. You came immediately. Black spots winking in and out of your vision. You broke down, atom by atom, bit by bit, conceptual thought by abstract thought, and there was only you, him, and the intense pleasure he wrought out of your body. You screamed to the ceiling, screamed to heavens, screamed to anyone who was near enough to hear that you were cumming and cumming hard enough to see stars.
Marvin distantly moved around you, doing something. You weren’t sure what. You were starting to calm down, feeling the fresh pool of wetness leak out of you. “Fuuck, you’re soaked, sweetheart,” he said.
He came back into your field of vision, lining himself up. Oh, he went and grabbed a condom. What a beautiful man. You pushed against his chest, arm too weak to really stop him. “Slow, baby, please,” you huffed.
Marvin chuckled and pushed against your hand. “You’ve already taken everything so well, sweetheart,” he said and kissed your forehead.
Your mind emptied out with a feral moan and Marvin pushed into your warm pussy. He groaned as he made contact. “Fuck, you’re good and wet baby. Look at that, slid right in. ‘Cause you take everything so well. So fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin’ perfect,” he moaned.
The praise was snatching your soul. Marvin grunted with every slip and slide of him inside you. Your legs locked around his waist, some primal muscle memory locking him in. Trapping him in. Keeping him connected to you while he fucked you.
You gripped onto his shoulders, scratching him. He groaned and began fucking you harder. His big, meaty palms grabbed your hips and slammed you into his dick. He was so big. He stretched you to your limit. But all the preparation made sense to you now. There was no way you could take him unless you were properly wet.
Wouldn’t be a problem with him but you made a mental note to buy some lube. Possibly two bottles because you couldn’t imagine having this much patience again. You’d want to climb on top of him any chance you got.
“Fuck, Marvin! You’re so big!” You screamed. And this time, you weren’t trying to hurry the man along. You were dead serious, praising him for what God and genetics blessed him with. Your ass smacked on his thighs, dick burrowing deep inside.
“Fuck you feel good taking this dick,” he moaned. One of his hands moved to pinch a nipple. He held on while he fucked you hard, headboard clapping against your wall.
“Shit!” You screamed, once again creaming on his dick. You hadn’t even felt this one coming. It snuck up on you, robbing you of breath and thought.
Marvin groaned, slammed in a few more times, before shooting into the condom. You felt his dick pulse with each shot of cum and you moaned, clutching his body to you. He slowed down, breathing heavy in your ear. His sweaty body felt cold on yours and yet the heat of him was enough to scald.
He stood up, slowly withdrawing from you. You groaned as he worked himself out. You rolled to one elbow, huffing with the effort. A thick wad of cum was at the tip of the condom. Marvin smiled at you. It was devastating. It broke your heart.
You were lost in it completely as he took the condom off and disappeared to your bathroom. You heard water running and then he was back with a washcloth, cleaning up between your legs.
You felt so cherished and taken care of. Where had he been all your life? Moving next to him was the single greatest idea you’d ever had. Fuck every doubt, every regret, every night you spent wondering if this was the right move. Marvin just proved it was.
After cleaning you up, he got rid of the rag and then helped you stand up. He stripped your bed, and then found new sheets in the cabinet you told him about. In record time, he put new sheets on and then was pulling you back down, embracing you from behind.
You snuggled into his warmth, yawning, feeling safe and warm and madly in love. He was never escaping you. Never getting rid of you. Dick could absolutely change a woman’s tune, got damn.
“I got one more question before you fall asleep, sweetheart,” he said and kissed behind your ear.
“Hmm?” You asked, no energy for anything. You were falling asleep fast.
“Did your shower really go out?” He asked.
“Uh-huh,” you agreed and then you were fast asleep to the sound of Marvin’s chuckles.
There's more! The Secret Mother's Milk Files
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Part 3 - Oakmoss
Autumn Embers Masterlist
CW: Omegaverse scent-heavy flirting, food related flirting, Brandon (derogatory)
It’s three weeks later that Sergeant Garrick catches you walking out of your building at the end of the day. You’re more distracted than usual - trying to decipher a text from Jack about his upcoming heat - so you’re almost on top of him before you realize. His smile is genuine when you jump back from nearly stepping on his boot.
“Sorry!”
“No harm done,” he assures you. His hand comes forward. “Sergent Kyle Garrick.”
“We’ve met,” you point out, allowing a short, comfortable handshake.
His grin goes a little bit sheepish when he takes his hand back. “Well, I had to introduce myself better than Soap, at least. That’s MacTavish.”
“Ah,” you say. “Well… good to meet you.”
“The team wanted to thank you, for the information,” he continues. “It was very helpful. That Lawrence guy would have had us runnin’ in circles. We also, uh,” he shuffles his feet a bit, and looks away. “We didn’t want to overstep. By offering a gift before clearing it with you.”
Oh, he thinks he’s clever. You arch an eyebrow, “You want me to give your pack permission to give me gifts, Sergent Garrick?”
“I told them you’d catch on too fast,” he laughs.
At least he has the decency not to deny it. Here you had been tying yourself into knots about being too emotional in a meeting, and now a pretty man is asking permission for his pack to court you. Part of you is relieved. The last thing you need is more alphas pissed off at you, prowling around the base looking for a pissing contest.
Another part of you is annoyed.
You carefully regulate your breathing. “Yeah, I’m pretty good at catching these kinds of things by now. But you don’t have to thank me for doing my job.” You sidestep him and start walking toward the car park.
Sergent Garrick falls into step beside you. “I’ve offended you.”
You sigh. Of course he’d be sensitive to the way your scent changes. You practically scent burned him in a closed room. You step to the side of the walkway and turn to face him. “I’m sure you and your pack are wonderful, sergeant, but I’ve had a long day.”
His smile is charming. “Anything we can do to help?”
“Not approaching me with a courting offer at my workplace would be a good start,” you say, blandly. You watch his face muscles twitch through confusion, shock, and a tinge of horror before continuing. “While I’m flattered that you would tell your pack about me, I prefer to keep things professional on base. And I’m sure your team would prefer that as well. Have a nice night.”
“Wait,” He reaches out, but has the good sense not to touch you. “Would it be better, then, to maybe approach you off-base?”
Why do alphas think I’ll find you elsewhere is ever a good thing to imply? “Like how Sergeant MacTavish approached me at the bar?” He doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that. You take a step back, his confusion tickling your nose. “I’m not really interested in being the subject of whatever competitive thing you have going. Have a good night, Sergeant.”
By the time you get back to your car, you’re not mad anymore. Just tired. You climb into the drivers seat and tip your head back with a sigh. Garrick and MacTavish aren’t the first alphas to want to try taming the Wildfire, and they won’t be the last. But it still stings. For once, it’d be nice if someone saw you and thought you were pretty and interesting instead of just a challenge to conquer.
You let yourself have a few more seconds of self-pity before you strap in and start the car. You’ll give Jack a call, make plans for his heat, and leave the sergeants to do their thing.
The next day, when you get to your office, there’s a travel cup of hot coffee from your favorite coffee shop on the edge of your desk, along with a gift card and a note. You don’t really think much of it - coffee from Sherry as a reward for a job well done isn’t unheard of - but the the gift card for 25 pounds is a bit excessive. The unfamiliar handwriting on the note catches your eye.
Please accept this apology for yesterday.
It’s signed by Captain John Price. That’s… interesting. Speaks well to the cohesion of the 141 that Sergeant Garrick would let him know that he made you uncomfortable. Hopefully this means that neither of the sergeants will be dogging your steps. On the other hand, an almost perfect coffee made it to your office somehow. You’re still dealing with a bit of overbearing alpha bullshit. But apology bullshit is better than the alternative, so you settle in for your day.
By lunch, you’ve pushed the note to the back of your mind. When Sherry walks in, you expect a conversation about taking on Jerry’s workload with his upcoming parental leave. You don’t expect her to place a paper bag from the very fancy sandwich shop across town onto your desk. You can smell warm bread and something else in there.
“Special delivery,” she says. Before you can pull the bag close to poke around, she holds out a folded piece of paper. “Ah, ah! I was told to give you this first.”
“What? Sherry, let me… eat.”
Please accept this offer as a formal request to discuss an intention of courtship. Captain Johnathan Price Lieutenant Simon Riley Sergeant Kyle Garrick Sergeant Johnathan MacTavish
Each of the signatures is different. You look from the note to Sherry’s curious face and back down. You’re glad you have so much practice locking down your scent, because your emotions are all over the place. You flash her a quick smile as you refold the note and stick it under the edge of your keyboard.
“Thanks, I’ll take care of it.”
She nods, with a nervous smile of her own. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” you lie, hoping she doesn’t pick up on the spike of your scent as your heart races. “The 141 had a successful mission after that awful meeting with Brandon and that CIA agent.”
“Oh! Well that’s good,” she says with a sharp nod. She knocks twice on the edge of your desk before she turns to leave. “You always do good work. Least those boys could do is buy you lunch.”
Once she’s gone, you wait a few seconds, then get up to quietly close your door. And then you eye the fancy paper bag on your desk like it’s a bomb. You circle back to pick up the note, read it, fold it, open it to read again.
You snap a picture and send it to the group chat. Then snap a picture of the gifts and note from this morning. You re-re-re-read the second note again.
When you phone rings, you pick up without looking. “What do I do?”
Jack wails into your ear. “Bitch, what do you MEAN what do you do?”
“Do I open it?”
“Open what?”
You snap a picture of the stamped bag sitting on the edge of your desk and send it to the chat. “They sent this with-”
Chrissy’s icy voice startles you. “If you don’t show me what’s in that bag right now I will scream.”
“What if opening it is accepting it?” When the phone chirps in your ear, you hiss, “I can’t do a video call, I’m in my office.”
“Quit stalling,” Chrissy snaps. “Open the bag.”
You pull it closer, then pause. “Should we wait for Mel?”
“NOW,” Jack bellows.
“I’m also at work,” Mel’s says, steady and unbothered. “So please stop yelling.”
The bag crinkles a bit when you pull it closer, silencing everyone. You’re not sure why you’re holding your breath, but it comes out in a little huff of disappointment when you look inside and the first thing you see is napkins.
“Okay,” you whisper, as you start pulling things out. The first food item you find is a roll. “We have… bread, still warm. A half of a sandwich - ooh! The goat cheese and pear one. A half salad,” you squint through the translucent lid. “It looks like it has berries. Oh, it looks like there’s a soup in here, too, nice. And the utensils. And…”
When you don’t say anything else, Jack prompts you. “And?”
“There’s a, uh,” you cover your eyes as your face flushes. “It’s a cake.”
The silence is deafening. You make yourself peek into the unassuming box, and the four-inch, round cake positively dripping with what smells like orange syrup, spices, and the faintest hint of alcohol. Your face gets even hotter when you connect the dots and realize the cardamom you’re smelling reminds you of Sergeant Garrick.
It’s Mel who breaks the silence, clearing their throat before asking, “Did they get you a custom cake from the Trinity Rose?”
You can’t make yourself say anything, so you take a picture of it for the group chat. Then a couple more at different angles, because the curl of orange and peel on top looks like something out of a movie. You hear when the photos load, each of your friends sucking in a quiet breath. Chrissy must mute her mic, because the background noise drops significantly.
“Someone please say something,” you whisper.
Jack says, “Holy shit.”
“What does it smell like?” Mel asks, cutting to the chase. “Is it good?”
“It smells so good,” you admit. “Like… ridiculously good.”
Chrissy comes back on the line, sounding a little breathless. “They apologized with coffee this morning?”
“Yeah-”
“So this wasn’t part of the apology,” she continues. “Guys, this is. This is a legit courtship thing.”
“The website says they offer courtship packages,” Mel confirms. “It’s pretty cute, a subscription service for lunch. But it doesn’t actually include a cake.”
“There’s gotta be at least a two week wait on something like this.” You say it as soon as you realize it. Embarrassment flashes hot and cold down your entire body and you have to cover your face. “Oh gods, this had to be planned in advance.”
Chrissy hisses, “The bakery at the Trinity Rose is award winning. Of course this was planned in advance.”
“Wait, are they all in a pack?” Jack yelps. “All four of them? And they’re all alphas? There has to be more to the pack than that, right?”
Mel makes a disagreeing sound. “If there were more, they’d have signed. This is a very formal pre-courtship gift. Well. Mostly formal.”
You have to resist chewing on your lip. “Should I eat it?”
“No reason to waste a perfectly nice lunch,” they point out. Jack and Chrissy make agreeing noises. “But I’d probably wait to eat the cake until you get home.”
“So I can think about it?”
“What? No. You’ve already decided to hear them out,” Mel dismisses. “I just wouldn’t eat a sex cake at work.”
That startles a squawking laugh out of you. “It’s not a sex cake!”
“Oh, so they got a custom syrup cake that matches your scent as a platonic gesture?” Chrissy challenges.
“…There’s a little bit of cardamom,” you admit. “That’s Sergeant Garrick’s scent.”
“It’s a sex cake,” Mel confirms over the train whistle noise Chrissy makes before she can mute herself again. “When Garrick shows up to escort you to your car this evening, maybe don’t chew his head off.”
“Oh no,” you groan. Your head thumps against your arm as you throw yourself down onto the desk. “He was trying to ask for permission to court me and I was a complete bitch to him.”
You deserve the laughter of your best friends for that. But eventually, you rally. If you’re actually going to enjoy your lunch, you have to start eating now or you’ll have to eat and work later. You start with the sandwich and mute your mic as you take a huge bite. By unspoken agreement, the conversation shifts to the weekend and Jack’s heat, then Chrissy’s client who insists on in person meetings three days before her heat. Mel lets you all ramble for a good twenty minutes before ushering everyone off the phone since Jack is the only one who doesn’t have deadlines and scheduled clients.
Which leaves you staring at the cake.
Your eyes dart to the still closed door of your office, then back. You’re too full of good food to eat a whole cake, but… a bite couldn’t hurt. And while the gift is definitely a little… suggestive… it’s not actually a sex cake. Just a bit... decadent. Sherry’s husband sends her flowers that match their pack’s scents. That’s basically the same thing.
Right?
Before you can second guess yourself, you scoop a bite into your mouth.
The taste that bursts over your tongue makes you moan out loud. You definitely should have waited until you got home. The cake is so rich, cut by the orange and whiskey in a way that almost demands a second bite. There’s something indescribable teasing the back of your palate, hidden by cardamom and the hint of something - raspberry? - but so distinctly there. When you try to focus on it, you keep coming back to a smokiness that can’t be anything but the alcohol.
Before you know it, you’ve eaten a quarter of the little cake. Your stomach feels warm, and you admit to yourself that it’s probably not a good idea to keep consuming alcohol at work. So you close the little box and lick the fork while you log back into your computer one handed. Your lips are sticky. Even after you use your thumb to help clean them off you’re so aware of them.
You catch yourself pursing and rolling your lips through the rest of your day. You can’t resist taking another bite every now and then. Every time, you remember Mel calling it a sex cake and wonder if Captain Price thought about this when placed the order. You remember the way Lieutenant Riley’s eyes had slid down your body. Had he known he wanted to send you this cake then? Did Sergeant MacTavish imagine you licking your fork when he signed the note? Was Sergeant Garrick thinking about this moment when he saw you yesterday?
When the day ends, you send a picture of the cake with more than a third missing to the group chat as you log out. I fucked up, it’s a sex cake.
Beta Daddy: Told you.
Best Bitch: WHAT DOES IT TASTE LIKE
Barbie: drinks at mel and jax tonite
You: :thumbsup:
You: genuinely no idea how to describe, i’ll try tonight
You’re nervous, closing up shop for the evening. Would Sergeant Garrick be waiting for you again? Or will your hyper-independence come back to bite you? You hope someone will be there to walk you, and the possibility of that not being the case cools you. And then you look back at the box of cake in your hands and flush hot. Maybe it’s better that you don’t run into anyone after an entire afternoon of rubbing your lips and thinking of the 141.
You’re shocked out of your musings just before you can exit the building by Brandon of all people calling your name. With a groan, you’re dropped back to reality. You at least let yourself step outside for some fresh air before he can reach you.
“Sherry said the 141 had a question for you. What was it?” Not even a hello. Typical. Thanks a lot, Sherry.
Luckily, you have a lie prepared. “Just another question about Cloudstone.”
“What question?” He steps closer, trying to use his height to intimidate. “I’m the point of contact, they should be speaking to me directly.”
“Hm. Maybe should’ve reached out to you,” Lieutenant Riley’s voice says from behind your right shoulder. “Got a lo’ of info on alpha enhancements, then?”
Brandon’s shocked, offended scent almost drowns out the Lieutenant’s. Almost. You tilt your head before you realize you’re doing it, and catch that hint of something that you’ve been chasing all afternoon, earthy and intriguing. Your mouth waters. You barely stop yourself from biting your lip and tune back into the conversation.
“I wasn’t able to give them an answer today,” you butt in, before Brandon can get too worked up. “I’ll CC you on the email when I have everything.”
“Fine,” Brandon says, glaring daggers at the Lieutenant.
And then the three of you just… stand there.
Behind you, Lieutenant Riley smells amused. “Dismissed.”
Brandon gapes at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’re dismissed. Unless you have more to add on the subject.”
Being caught between clashing alphas is not how you thought today would end. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see people look at Lieutenant Riley, then at Brandon, and then visibly decide to wait to exit the building. When you start to inch away, the lieutenant touches just beneath your left shoulder blade with the tips of his fingers. You freeze with a sharp inhale. Brandon looks between the two of you. Then his face settles into a sneer.
“Think hard about what you say next,” Lieutenant Riley ways with almost no inflection. Brandon’s face freezes and goes a little pale. You remember, suddenly, that the man at your back is also called the Ghost. “Because challenging me won’t go well for you. Walk away under your own power.”
The resonance of his voice combines with the way his scent teases your olfactory nerves and sends a shiver through you. You’re suddenly aware of the warmth that’s been building behind your bellybutton all afternoon. You don’t hear the next thing Brandon says. He’s too focused on his own offense to notice your distraction, thank the gods, but -
One of the fingers at your back taps you gently, once, twice. And then you feel the gentlest scrape of a fingernail against your shirt.
“I have to go,” you squeak, taking a step toward the parking lot. To Brandon, you say “I will make sure I email you first thing in the morning.”
You can see Brandon’s jaw working, but no matter how irritated he is, he’s outmatched and he knows it. After a moment, he answers. “See that you do.”
“’Ll walk you,” Lieutenant Riley intones. “Wanna make sure I understand the answer to the Captain’s question.” He turns his back to Brandon and gestures for you to continue walking.
A part of you wants to see what will happen if Brandon answers the obvious insult. It’s not hard to imagine the crunch of his body hitting the pavement, the way the Ghost might growl down and force him to yield. Another, loud part of you needs to not get this wet standing right outside of your office. So you hustle away and try to cool yourself down.
Of course, the Lieutenant is right beside you. You chance a glance up - he’s so tall! - at his face, covered today by a black surgical mask. His brown eyes catch yours and crinkle at the edges as he smiles, but he doesn’t say anything. Just keeps walking with you until you’re standing next to your car.
“Sorry,” he says, looking across the car park. “Weren’t my intention to cause trouble.”
“No,” you say, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket and looking at your keys in your hand. “It’s not your fault, I, um, I told my coworker that lunch was work-related. I guess she told Brandon.”
He nods. “Tha’s fair. Should I tell the Cap’n that lunch was work-related?”
When you look back up, he’s already gazing back at you. There’s just enough light to see his eyes darken as he tips his head up just a bit. He’s scenting you, his effect on you. You feel your face get hot as you look away from him again.
He gives an amused-sounding huff. “Need time to think about it?”
Do you? “No, I… I would be open to discussing an intention of courtship.”
Lieutenant Riley purrs. It’s deep and gravely, but unmistakable for anything else. The sound startles you into meeting his eyes. This time, he holds your gaze and takes a step forward, then another when you back up until you bump into your car. He doesn’t come any closer, but his eyes say that he wants to.
“Skipper wants to meet somewhere open,” he says. “The Spice Garden has a nice outdoor space, if you’re free Saturday.”
You almost say yes, but catch yourself. “I… have to help my friend through his heat this weekend.”
He nods his head, never breaking eye contact. “Next week, then.”
You do a quick calculation in your head. “I can be free tomorrow evening by… seven, as long as things aren’t too… formal.”
“Won’t be formal,” he assures you. “Cap insisted on a gift and formal invitation, but we don’t stand too much on ceremony. Bit unconventional, far as packs go.”
You nod, too fast. “Okay. I… does tomorrow work?”
“If you wanted us tonight, you could have us,” he answers, eyes crinkling again. He takes a step back, looking at the box in your hand, then back into your eyes. “Tomorrow then. Enjoy the cake.”
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I know you asked for something with Ford and i’ll request something for him once i brainstorm it up i promise T-T
BUT with the Sub masochist Bill, i can totally see where it’d go. I feel like Bill would be the type of person to never even think about touching himself, because the whole ‘trying to end the world thing’, and he was too busy with all of that and experimenting with pain in the human body it never even occurred to him that pleasure would be as awesome as it was till the [insert reader] showed him
Like literally after he figures it out he prolly wouldn’t even wanna stop. Man could go hours overstimulated and sex crazy because after a while of getting overstimmed it hurts insanely bad, but that’s lowkey more of a reason for him to keep going.
And whenever you’d tell him no to fucking or you’d be busy or something, it’d drive him literally nuts because ‘how dare you reject HIM.’ And he’d think it would just be casual questions of ‘Sooo you wanna have sex now, toots?’ but it’d get the point where he’d just be BEGGING you to touch him.
Speaking of touching himself, like i’d said before, he never really had till his first time with you, and whenever you’d reject his advances he just couldn’t help but touch himself while throwing a little hissy fit about the whole thing. You’d once walked in on him in one of these moments, on the bed, dick in hand while ruthlessly beating himself off. Sometimes he’d even slap himself and things of the sort and imagine it was you doing it and that usually through him over the edge.
ALSO FLUFF 🤩 So i don’t imagine him to be the most open about cuddling or anything but when he’s in the mood he’d get upset when you wouldn’t. Sometimes he just forgets you can’t read his mind. But honestly he seems clingy in the type of way that when he’s not horny out of his demonic mind, that he’d learn to just enjoy your general presence. Even when you guys aren’t having playful banter, he would bask in the silence knowing you’re there with him by his side. Don’t get me wrong, this man is a pest and would never admit any of this outloud, but he also feels as thought you know it so he doesn’t HAVE to tell you.
ONE MORE THING: Star gazing. now i really need you to here me out of this one.
So his dimension (or whatever it was) was destroyed, right? And even when he eventually came to earth, he must’ve been traveling in the stars for a while just tryna find a new home. So sometimes when he’s really feeling it, you guy’ll be on the roof to your place and he’d point out the general direction of where is dimension once was, or even go into detail about constellations he knows you don’t know about. Like i said this man is not a gooshy-ass person and can be a real dickhead to you more or less all the time, but i feel like there would definitely be those insanely rare moments where you could look at him and see a bit of human in that demonic entity (BYW ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE BEEN IN THIS FANDOM SO I MIGHTVE FORGOTTEN IMPORTANT LORE SO LEAVE ME ALONE 😭😭) Anywayss lemme think of some Ford shit to keep you sane pooks 😌🫡
-👻👽 Anon
I love asks like this because you guys literally do all my work for me. Much love Alien anon, much love. Also oh my god??? Everyone took my Bill fic and ran with it and I am LOVING IT, you people are so creative!
The fluff is actually really cute, by the way!! I don’t know how into cuddling Bill would be.. his human form is probably the most likely that situation would ever be. lol, imagine Bill experiencing the foreign need for human touch for the first time. i also like the point about him touching himself anyways-
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i’ll be brave
▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader
▹— summary: an infected attack leaves you fragile, in more ways that one.
▹— a/n: prepare for many father figure joel fics bc i love him!! also this is not the best thing ever but i love joel so!! hope you guys enjoy <33 planning on doing some more platonic fics where we see them develop more but alas. this is what you get rn!!
▹— tags: @loversdomain
masterlist
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Growing up in the QZ was all you had ever known, your life limited to the walls that surrounded you, trapped you. You’d heard stories about the world outside, though it was such a foreign concept to you, both of horror and nostalgia.
Until Joel, you were certain you’d never see it. The guards that patrolled were too strict, at least where you lived. It was easier to sneak further in than it was to get out, heading towards where most of the residents lived and worked.
Your father would’ve worked here, you thought to yourself, the very first time you’d managed to get into the centre of the QZ. He would have lived and worked and would have known your mother here. Sometimes, you wonder what life could have been like if he hadn’t of died mere weeks after you’d been born. There was a part of you that longed to know where he was from, actually from, before the world fell to pieces. To know his accent, the sound of his voice, the way he acted… anything.
They told you that your mother fled the day he died, leaving you abandoned in a flat crying for hours until the neighbours finally had enough and cracked open the door, finding you there: alone.
That’s how you had lived your life since, alone. Facing the current world with nobody to teach you, nobody to protect you, to help you escape.
You’re sure that Joel finding you was a miracle, though most people didn’t believe in those anymore, or so you were told. But you were certain that if one was to exist, it’d be this man.
The man who, despite his unwelcoming appearance, had hauled you away from the guards who had tried to beat you until you learned the lesson they were teaching. Who had given you shelter even when he knew nothing more than your name, who had lended you blankets and clothes to keep you warm.
Joel himself certainly wasn’t expecting you — your presence scared him. That day, when he saw those guards attacking you, he felt a glimpse of who he used to be in the life before, and he was unable to walk away. It terrified him, more than any clicker or runner ever could, that he may have some humanity left within him after all.
After Sarah, he turned his nose from anyone who could’ve needed his help. Other than those exempt from that, such as Tommy or Tess, he decided that it wasn’t his business.
But when you called out, being struck again by two armed guards, grown adults, something inside of his chest snapped. Like a tether that had been pulled far too taut, frayed away until the tension was too much to bare. He vividly remembers the blood that had dropped from his hands as he pulled you to your feet, remembers the way it matched the droplets that stained your face.
He wasn’t planning on you becoming part of his and Tess’ little… group, but once he found you, you seemed to stick. You didn’t particularly want to leave, anyway, and when the duo didn’t kick you out? You figured there was no harm in staying.
Now, you travelled with them, earning your place among the two adults, even when they suggested you stay home, where it was the slightest bit safer.
They had refused your requests to come with them on runs for a while, but the first time they allowed it was imprinted on your brain as if branded there by hot metal.
The brightness that came with being outside of the QZ was something you truly didn’t expect, though that could’ve just been in your brain. The QZ was dull, full of grey walls and faces and dirt, but out here was full. Greens and yellows and everything between covered the horizon, and you squinted to see as much of it as you possibly could.
Joel had huffed at you, nudging you lightly to keep you moving, but he wasn’t angry. He and Tess had shared a look, something going between their silence that you didn’t understand, and in that moment, you didn’t care to.
By now, you’d been coming on runs with the two of them for a few months, here and there. When they deemed it wasn’t too dangerous, of course.
Which is why today’s occurrence was so odd — it was a regular run, with you spending all your time in the great outdoors admiring everything that surrounded you, something akin to wonder in your eyes. Seeing all the buildings that had crumbled not long after your birth, taken over by nature and its most fearsome monster; cordyceps. As soon as you approached the desired hit of the day, you put your game face on. It was like flicking a switch in your brain — one second, you could have no worries in the world, stuck in your own head as you wandered around. The next, it was like every movement echoed in your ears, the slightest of sounds drawing your attention.
It was meant to be safe.
That is what Joel and Tess had said — god, that was the only reason they let you join them today, on one of their rare daylight outings: the safety factor.
So imagine your surprise when you slipped, ankle twisting as it went through the creaking floorboards of the building, followed by the clicking.
It was like your whole body froze solid, every muscle fibre tensing and pulling taut, eyes wide — a deer in headlights, Tess might’ve described you as, if her heart hadn’t have been beating so fast it could’ve burst.
Your head swivelled towards where Joel stood, just in front of you, to your right. He stared at you, something dark in his eyes, and you swallowed harshly as he held a finger to his lips, shushing you.
Each of your breaths came out silently, the only sound being the echoing clicks before the footsteps started coming towards the three of you, directly from your left. You swore you could hear the drip of blood in the quiet between each footstep of the monster.
You kept your eyes towards Joel and Tess, as much as you wanted to look to your left, where the sounds were starting to get louder. You watched them as they shared a conversation through their eyes, a nod of understanding held between the two of them. Joel’s expression was pained, but Tess put on her best brave face, giving you a wink.
“Hey, asshole!” Tess yelled, before scrambling to run ahead, a screech echoing in your ear, deafening you. Your breath hitched as she ran, and the clicker followed before your eyes.
As soon as its attention was on Tess, Joel was grasping you underneath your armpits, hauling your leg out of the hole it had fallen in. You held in your cries and winces as the broken floorboards left splinters and cuts all along your calf, your ankle hurting like a bitch.
He was pulling you out before you could utter a word, and by the time he managed to get you outside, your blood had covered your shoe. He leant you against the broken wall that had surrounded the building, ensuring you could stay upright — though you couldn’t put pressure on your leg — before he barked out a, “Stay here!” and ran back inside for Tess.
Your heart was beating in your ears, your throat clogged up as you did your best not to cry. This was your fault — had you not insisted upon joining them again, they would’ve never been put in this situation. They could die in there, and you were stuck out here, unable to even stand on your own two feet.
The pain in your leg was worsening now that you weren’t in imminent danger, though you were sure you were going to pass out when you heard the gun fire a single round.
“Are you guys okay?” You all but yelled as soon as you saw them emerging from the door, Tess leading, seemingly unharmed, with Joel following in much the same condition.
“We’re fine,” Tess breathed out as she approached you, leaning against the wall beside you. “It’s dead.”
“Are you alright?” Joel asked, his hand grasping on to your forearm, keeping you steady where you were shaking, holding yourself up against the rough surface of the wall. You nodded, breath still not able to properly filter out past the lump in your throat.
He knelt in front of you, hands reaching out and pulling the trouser leg up to see the full extent of your injury properly.
“Shit, kid,” he sighed out, looking up to Tess, “we’ve seen worse. We can manage.” He dropped the backpack where it was hung on his one shoulder, digging through it to tape some spare cloth around your injury, taping it around your ankle to keep it secure, too.
When he finally got you on your feet, silence lingering between all of you, he had to help you carry your own weight all the way back to your home in the QZ.
By the time you had managed to pick all the splinters out of your leg, Joel and Tess had gone to their beds, leaving you in the ‘living room,’ alone.
You felt sick, knowing you could have gotten all three of you killed today, just because you wanted a taste of the world that had long since decayed past anything worth wanting. Finally left on your own, the tears spilled past your eyelids, cleaving clean lines through the dirt and muck that caked your cheeks.
You couldn’t help but feel terrified, like you could still hear that damned creature coming for you. Like its footsteps echoed in your own home, right now.
With a fearful sob, you looked up to where you swore the sound come from, only to find Joel approaching, frown present on his face. His eyebrows were creased upwards, taking his expression from grumpy to worried.
Without a word from him, he came and sat beside you on the couch, wrapping the blanket that usually stayed firmly on the back of it around your shivering shoulders.
You clutched at it, wanting nothing more than to hide underneath it and pretend the entire day hadn’t happened — you wanted to forget the fear that shredded your veins, leaving your heart hammering. If you could just lose the entire memory of today, you would in a heartbeat, because the idea of leaving the QZ again with Joel and Tess made you feel sick.
Joel sighed, coming to kneel in front of you after you continuously avoided looking towards him. His hands reached out to your leg, the movement sending deja vu straight through you. He checked over your injury again, wrinkles caused by his frowning getting deeper. “You know it’s all okay, right?” He checked, finally, unsure what else to say in the quiet you usually tended to fill.
“It’s not o—okay, Joel,” you sobbed out, barely even breathing between your cries, “I al—almost got you and Tess kill—killed.”
“No, no, listen to me, kid. The… situation today was not your fault. Hear me? Not your fault. We thought it was safe, it wasn’t, that happens. We’re just glad you’re okay. Mostly.” He added on, nodding towards your bruised and bloodied leg.
“I tried so h—hard to be brave,” you continued, now even more hysterical as you thought of the way that thing approached you, how it could’ve killed any one of you had you made the slightest noise.
“I know,” Joel said, and he returned to your side at the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing it with his hand. “You were very brave, and I’m sorry you had to be.”
Part of Joel couldn’t help but feel like this was too much, too reminiscent of the daughter he’d lost. It made his head spin, even as he pulled you closer at the sound of your continuous cries, the way you could bring back that piece of him, the piece with some kind of humanity.
You didn’t have anybody else. All you had was Tess and Joel, and all he had was you and Tess, at least while his brother was out of town. This thing you had built, during the apocalypse and all, was a family.
“C’mon, kid,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his hand, “It’s alright. We’ll go out just to see the outside, next time. No risk of infected.”
“No, I—I don’t want to get you guys hurt again.” You responded, shaking your head and feeling your tears slow, remembering the pain that burned through your leg. You didn’t want to experience anything like today ever again, even if that meant staying inside the walls of the QZ for the rest of your life. “You didn’t even get what we went out for, because of me.”
His chest lurched, and he huffed a frustrated breath. “I don’t give one shit about that,” Joel said, leaving it to you to catch on to the end of that sentence that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. I care about you.
You couldn’t tell him how you truly felt — like dead weight, a burden they couldn’t get rid of. You stayed with them, ate their food and used up their supplies, and now you were ruining the only way for them to get a decent income, too. It’d upset him, hearing you say that aloud. You knew it would.
“I just… I don’t want to end up alone.” You translated, the best you could do to tell him that you needed the two of them, for more than just the ability to survive they provided you with.
You knew they missed the old world, everybody who had lived before the outbreak did, as much as they tried not to think about it. It was a deep longing for something you would never know. While their world was gone, they were your world.
Joel’s arm squeezed you close, like all the words that refused to leave his lips could be heard that way.
In a way, it told you everything you needed to know.
Your eyes closed soon enough, and you missed the look that crossed Joel’s face, the warmth in his eyes that he never thought would return after the loss of his first daughter. And yet here it was, present and warm as ever, as he looked at where you’d fallen asleep resting against him.
#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine#tlou imagines#tlou one shot#tlou imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller father figure#platonic joel miller x reader#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#pedro pascal imagine#heartpascal writes
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ive returned because your writing haunts me and i need to dig into your brain about combat baby idk how deeply youve thought about like. the whole extent of this au so if im asking about stuff that you dont want to focus on for it forgive me but im so curious how do things go down with bill?? like hes still an issue here do they just try the unicorn hair and stan scams his way through (and ford is so shocked and lowkey turned on impressed they bang after) or with everything else happening does ford (stupid genius he is) just sort of forget bill can still enter stan's dreams even if hes got the metal plate and stans like "hey why am i dreaming about a dorito obsessed with your portal"
and im guessing ford would not be down to make his home a tourist trap so do you think stan would just help with the research? or would his insecurities about being dead weight to ford push him to try and find his own way of income?
and and what about the town?? do they have to awkwardly pretend theyre father and son or uncle and nephew or something? because sure they could pretend theyre not related but they still look pretty similar. ford just looks like an older, nerdier stan so i think that would be people's first assumption (ford seething quietly as susan flirts with stan. stan just thinks fords feeling uncomfortable in town because hes a hermit until theyre alone and they have a repeat of their highschool days with ford hissing in his ear and demanding to know what he was expecting to happen with susan. stan trying to answer but hes a little distracted at the time)
and also with ford being back would they ever run into fiddleford again? either him in his cult days or maybe already halfway to losing his mind. depending on where he is mentally im sure the interaction could be either pretty hostile or sympathetic
ive grabbed you by the ankles and am attempting to shake you upside down to try and empty your pockets for scraps of this au because it consumes me
-🐶
waaaaaah thanks for being patient with me friend! you know i ALWAYS love to see you with the big fuckin questions and ideas. and i have been THINKING about this one cause, tbh, i finished combat baby in a couple of days and went “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT” and threw it at y’all and did not think much about it after that! until i came over here and started chatting with y’all at least hahaha.
the bill issue is like a whole thing right? and i was definitely wondering how the time travel on one side but not the other might impact him/slow him down. but i also do think it’d be kind of fucking hilarious if stan starts dreaming about bill but like. doesn’t say anything and doesn’t even think it’s a big deal because. you know. they’re just weird dreams. and at this point, stan’s done enough drugs and been through the ringer with stress and shit that it doesn’t even occur to him to question having bizarre dreams about some little geometric freak trying to be nice to him. whaaat? a MATH SHAPE for fucking NERDS in a gay little sweater vest BOW TIE is COMPLIMENTING him in his dreams???
as far as stan’s concerned, his subconscious got REALLY hung up on the whole “ford said some nice shit to me while we were fucking” and just hasn’t let that go yet. which i think would also drive bill up the fucking wall. like stan would have been the harder nut to crack regardless, but to keep getting accused of being stan’s mental manifestation of his brother fucking praise kink???? (which of course invites the whole question of bill going fuck it, and just leaning into that, but i don’t think he’d be as adept that mimicking ford for stan as he was at mimicking stan for ford, so)
ngl, i do love the unicorn hair play, tho. fun fact! i have no idea if i’ll actually write it or not, but i’ve toyed with the idea of doing a role reversal with ford coming back out of the portal still in this 30’s and finding stan and everything else having moved forward 30 years. and the unicorn hair felt like a good way to potentially address the Bill Issue i was getting stopped up on there! but like. i also could absolutely see older!ford convincing stan to wear a collar necklace of unicorn hair to keep bill out of his head.
but i loooooove the idea of them getting mixed up with fiddleford’s cult shit. i don’t even know wtf i’d DO with that but conceptually i love it. cause they’re starting to keep an eye on the townspeople, right? and even if stan’s come up with some kinda story to explain there being kinda sorta two of them now, he wouldn’t know not to be outspoken about the other weird shit happening in town. y’know, on top of being some of the weird shit happening in town. something something, stan getting snatched like lazy susan did over the gnome incident, but ayyye that shit hits really fucking wrong when you’ve actually been kidnapped in the past already and had to chew your way out of a fucking car to get free. i think that’s be neat!!
and especially if we consider fidds being maybe already just shade too far gone, enough that running into stan or having him dragged into the cult would confuse the fuck out of him. because that’s stanford, right? it has to be, he’s coming in and out of stanford’s house, he looks like stanford with a few questionable fashion and hygiene choices — but then again, stanford hadn’t been in great shape the last time he’d shown his face outside of the cabin, either. but his hands are wrong. his hands are wrong and he can’t be stanford but then why does he look like him? easy solution: everybody gets their memory wiped.
something something, stan may not know where the fuck he is, but he knows coming to in a room full of shady guys he doesn’t recognize is either gonna end with him losing teeth or a little bit of dignity, and he’d like to hold on to his teeth a little longer.
#do we think ford would kill a cult if he caught them gang banging his brother???#or do we think he’d join in and then wipe all their memories of it??????#oh no i like that idea a little too much#god dammit boston#putting it on The List#stancest#pretend my ask tag is cute
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I'm not really sure if this req is your kinda thing? Plz feel free to ignore if it's not! Established relationship with Remy, and then there's a multiverse event and f!Remy is also hanging around and good god she's hot and she starts flirting with you and gay panik?
Every Gambit Wants Me
In a world where the multiverse was becoming more and more unpredictable, you were used to seeing strange things. Hanging out with Remy LeBeau, had its perks, but it also came with its fair share of surprises—particularly when it came to multiverse travel.
It had been another one of those accidental jumps through realities, and you and Gambit landed in a world that felt familiar...but slightly off. The streets of New Orleans had the same smell of gumbo and smoke, the same jazz lingering in the air, but something was different. You glanced at Remy, his red eyes glowing slightly under the streetlights, and he flashed you one of those charming, roguish grins.
"Dis ain't home, chérie," he said in his smooth Cajun drawl. "But I reckon we gon' make the best of it, non?"
You laughed softly, used to his easy charm by now. "Yeah, well, let's just hope this version of New Orleans doesn't have anything too crazy in store."
Before Remy could respond, a figure approached from the shadows. Your eyes widened in surprise. She looked exactly like him—the same mischievous eyes, the same tousled brown hair falling in front of her face—but this version of Gambit...was a woman.
"Well, well, well," she said, her voice dripping with the same sultry accent as Gambit's. "What do we have here?"
The female Remy circled the two of you, her eyes lingering a little too long on you. "Ain't every day a girl gets to meet someone from a different universe... especially someone as lovely as you." She smirked, her gaze heated as she stopped in front of you. "Seems I got myself an upgrade from my usual company."
Gambit stiffened beside you but didn't interrupt. He was intrigued, just as much as you were. Female Gambit leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear.
"You know," she whispered, "I could show you a real good time. Better than any man ever could. Ain't nobody knows you like me, sugar. You like what you see?"
You felt your cheeks heat up, her proximity setting your nerves on fire. She was undeniably attractive, and that confidence—that you recognized from your Gambit. But she had an extra layer of boldness, not held back by the same reservations. You opened your mouth to say something, but she kept going, brushing a hand across your arm.
"Let me guess. You’re with him, ain't ya?" she teased, gesturing toward your Gambit. "But I bet you’ve wondered what it’d be like...with someone who knows how you like it. Someone who's you, but different."
Your Gambit chuckled lowly behind you. "Careful, mon chérie. She might be prettier, but I ain't one to be outdone."
Female Remy shot him a smirk, leaning in even closer to you. "I dunno about that, sugar. You might like this version better."
Your heart was racing, torn between the two Gambits. There was something thrilling about this version of him—the flirtation, the danger, the electricity in the air.
"Don't worry," Gambit said, stepping up beside you with a grin that matched hers. "Ain't no jealousy here. I know what you like." His hand came up to gently tilt your chin toward him. "You could take her up on it...but even in dis multiverse, every Gambit’s got eyes for you. She’s just like me."
Female Remy laughed softly, her eyes dancing between you and your Gambit. "He's not wrong, you know. Every version of us is obsessed with you, sugar." She winked. "But if you ever wanna see just how different I can be, you know where to find me."
She gave one last flirtatious smile before walking off into the shadows, leaving you standing there, still caught between two versions of the same man. You turned to your Gambit, his expression a mix of amusement and satisfaction.
"Guess you really do have a type," you said, feeling the heat from the encounter still lingering.
Remy wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. "Cherie, there's only one of me for you, no matter how many multiverses we end up in. But I can’t blame her for trying—every version of me knows a good thing when they see it."
You couldn’t help but smile. After all, no matter how many versions of Gambit there were, the one right in front of you was the one you’d choose, every time.
#marvel imagine#x men imagine#gambit one shot#gambit x reader#gambit imagine#remy lebeau imagine#remy lebeau x reader#remy lebeau#x men 97
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TF141 Zombie Apocalypse AU pt.2
Info: very gory and decently dark, cussing, slavery-esk, kinda obsessive too
Setting info: so I live in Colorado so this story is widely based on where I live and the Denver airport. To help set the scene I’ve included a picture I took outside of my house to show where the main character and Johnny live.
Anyways I hope y’all enjoy!
————————
“For the last damn time we are not going anywhere near Denver!”
“Come on bonnie! Juist imagine the untouch’d mail thare! It woul’ be like gettin the winnin lotto ticke’ !”
“Yea but instead of walking away with a shit ton of cash we’d be walking into a shit ton of zombies! Also don’t forget the sign saying to stay away from the airport.”
“Ah come on, whan has thon sign iver been richt aboot anything? remember earlier this year whan it says,’best outpost this side o the rockies juist 15 miles south.’ an then the same outpost blew up no e'en 2 months later. Tha’ sign has alway’ been full o lies.”
“No that sign has always been full of false hope, not lies. And it sure as hell has never been used as a warning sign, especially with how far whoever wrote it must have traveled to get up here. Whatever they’re warning people about, it’s serious and we’re gonna heed it. End of discussion.”
With that, you flip and stalk up to your house. Pulling open the door you walk in but don’t hear the door slam shut behind you so you know he’s followed you in. Of course he has, it’s your turn to cook dinner so he’ll be here all night.
“But Bonnie, it’s only aboot an hour drive.”
He whined, shutting the storm door and following you to the kitchen.
“It used to be an hour drive Johnny, 5 fucking years ago before the world went to shit. Do you know how many pileups and walkers there are in that city? Too many.”
You glance up from the pot you were stirring. The soup just about done and the scent wafting around making both your stomach growl. You’ve solemnly seen Johnny so defeated, the last time you saw him this bad was the day he turned up on your door step 2 years ago.
“Listen, I get it I do. It’s hard being in the middle of nowhere, nothing to do or to see. I get it I promise, I grew up here. But the possibility of finding some cool package meant for some chick named Racheal at the FedEx hub is not worth the risk. It just isn’t.”
“Yea you’re richt. The packages aren’t worth the risk o ane o us gettin hurt or worse,’ you turn your gaze back to the oven, glad you’ve finally got through to him. It sucks being stuck here but atleast you’re both safe-,’neither are the animals. They deserve tae stay trappit where they are because they just….. aren’t worth the risk. Right Bonnie?”
The glare you send his way just about lays him on his ass. The cocky smirk he sends you makes you nearly explode with anger. How fucking dare he use the defenseless animals against you.
“You and I both know any animals trapped down there are long gone and sadly there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“Maybe…… but wha’ if they aren’t? Ye gonna let thaim suffer alone a scared while ye sit here eatin chicken noodle soup?”
———
Back before the outbreak, you thought no car rides would ever be worse than the family road trips you used to go on yearly. They were full of anger and arguing, mainly between your parents but what you would give to be back there. Not just because you miss your parents, you do, but because if you hear Johnny sing one more damn Rihanna song, you may just give yourself to the zombies.
“Umbrella-ella-ella-eh-eh-eh, Under my Umbrella-ella-ella-eh-“
“Johnny, shut the fuck up! You don’t need to sing this song 50 times in a row! I promise you’ll live if you stop singing.”
“For all ye know bonnie, ma beautiful voice coud be the one thin’ keepin us safe so hou aboot ye respect it a bit more? hmmm?”
“I highly doubt that if your voice is keeping things away, it’d be because it’s beautiful.”
He turns to you with an eyebrow raised but before he can retort, the large (and frankly, ugly) FedEx logos appears. Sun damaged and looks to have been half plowed down by a minivan, but recognizable non the less. You can’t tell if it’s the tires or Johnny squealing as he veers the car towards the front doors.
———
It’s been 4 hours since you pulled up to this God-forsaken warehouse and you’ve barely glanced through half the packages, let alone open and look at them like Johnnys doing.
“How much longer are you gonna take? I’d like to leave before I begin turning to dust if possible.” You ask/complain as you sit on a Samsung fridge new in box, probably cost more than 2k before but now it’s nothing more than a crappy bench. You guys spend another hour loading all the ‘good’ stuff into the trunk of the car and begin the long trek home.
It was about 4 am when you started the journey down and it’s just about to get to 9:30 pm as you make your way back up. On the drive back you guys stick to the highways instead of the side roads/land. It looks like when shit hit the fan almost everyone started making their way south to try and get out of the city, clogging up the roads while the north bound road had a few straggling cars but no big blocks luckily.
“Grumpy, grumpy. Absolutely na respect for the hunt. Back whan A wis i the military A usit tae have tae sit still i ane spot for hours hopin tae catch a glance at the missions target. Aye could hunt for hours an niver get borit.”
“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned your time in the military in a few months.” You say staring straight ahead at the ‘road’ (it’s a fucking field) processing what he said for a moment. “Do you miss it?”
“Miss wha’ exactly?”
“Ya’know the missions and the ‘doing the greater good.’ Getting the bad guys and putting them down.”
“A dae miss the missions a little bit, ay. But A miss ma fellow soldiers more. We were a family, a found on’ but on’ nonetheless.”
You guys banter and talk for a bit more, effectively killing time till you have to inevitably had back north. Luckily the drive down wasn’t too bad since you were able to cut through fields and avoid any towns with ease.
If there’s one thing zombie movies and shows got wrong, it was the amount of zombies walking the earth. Sure, there used to be about 7 billion living people and that number has now dropped to a measly 400 million. But that doesn’t mean every other body is a current zombie. In the beginning there were loads but as the years went on and more were killed, the hoards became far and few between. On the drive down you guys maybe encountered 10 or 15 zombies, majority once you reached Denver. The drive back you’ll probably only see 5 to 10, if that.
You’d about halfway out when the car starts the slow. Your head had just knocked the door in your attempt to get some shut eye so your heart was already pounding as Johnny hit the breaks. Looking up you expect to see a pile up, a hoard or maybe worse, survivors, but all your met with is an open road. Glancing to your left to see what Johnny’s looking at you follow his gaze to your right and see a giant sign for the airport.
“No Johnny don’t even think about it. We talked about this, whoever wrote that sign was truly scared of whatever’s in that airport so we’re aren’t going anywhere near it.”
He shoots you a quick glance, studying your quirked eyebrow before he mutters a quick, ‘Sorry Bon.’ and veers toward the airport. Stupidly (don’t this at home kids) you reach for the steering wheel while yelling at him to stop. The second you get both hands on the wheel he grabs your wrists with one and holds them to his chest. Still muttering apologies as he reaches 60 mph and weaves through stopped vehicles. One too many close calls cause you to shut your eyes tightly waiting for the inevitable impact. A few minutes later you both come to a stop on the top floor of the DIA parking garage.
As he put the car in park and looks over, he expects you to yell or maybe even slap him. What he didn’t expect were the fat tears rolling down your face and you stared petrified at the entrance.
“Juist a quick in an oot ok? We’ll be back home i na time- oh bonnie i’m sorry ok, I’m so sorry.”
He pulls you in for a hug and strokes a hand down the back of your head and spine a few times.
“Ye don’t have tae gae i gin ye don’t want tae ok? A juist have tae see somethin for ma own piece o mind but ye can stay oot here.”
As if you could have gotten more upset at that moment. Pulling back from him you shoot him the most scandalized look. “And what Johnny, leave you alone to fucking die in there? ‘sniff’ No I’m coming in with you, but don’t think just because I’m going in either you means I forgive you for this.”
You both waited for your tears to stop and your breathing to even out before you steeped out of the car and up to the once working sliding glass doors. Newspaper had been plastered up and covered all the windows, you just hope it’s to keep zombies out and not in. Producing a crow bar from the trunk, Johnny wedges the doors open and you both sneak inside. You’re up on the second floor and begin walking around, passing the small shops and gates as you went. Up ahead you both see one of those floor cut outs with the railings where you can look over the edge to the lower levels.
When you first pulled up, there were no signs of life but as you draw closer to the viewpoint you begin to see faint light and hear voices. Shucking off the little stuff you brought in, you and Johnny lay flat to the ground and begin to army crawl toward the ledge, hoping to catch a glimpse at whoever’s down below.
The sight your met with makes you feel a bit sick, whether that due to the amount of zombies or what’s happening to them your not sure. Down below is a giant wheel, that seems to be hooked up to a generator, being pulled in circles by 20-30 of them. It isn’t unheard of for people to keep zombies and use them for some sort of manual labor but it is looked down upon. Just put the poor bastards out of their misery and let the rest.
Transfixed on the hoard you almost miss the very obviously human man walking up to one of the limping zombies that’s not moving quite as fast as he’d like. He stands there watching the poor thing drag its bum right leg for a good 30 seconds before it crumples to the ground.
Not even a second after the zombies knees hit the ground, the human man unchains it and begins dragging it away. The second he grabs the things shirt it begins to beg? You look to the right and meet Johnnys equally wide eyes, both of you realizing the sickening truth. Those aren’t zombies, those are fucking people.
Seemingly rritated by this, he begins dragging the human mam towards a wall. Clearly this is not a good wall because he begins to fight and yell, trying to get free but is quickly overpowered and chained up onto the wall. A bright light flicks on suddenly, momentarily blinding you as it points towards the man. Your heart skips a beat as you read the words over the top of the man’s head and holy shit you’re gonna be sick.
‘Johnny MacTavish, a traitor’
You look back over at Johnny but he’s transfixed on what’s happening below, unable to pull his wide and terrified eyes away. As the man walks away a new one appears with an all too happy voice.
“Oh Johnny, we finally found you! Do you know how hard it’s been withou' you all these years? I’ve missed you so dearly brother.”
The new man is clearly crazy because judging by the state of the wall this is not the first ‘Johnny’ to be chained up there. He approaches the chained man with a cart of knives and other torture items and from this far you can still see his manic grin. Not wanting to see the way this plays out you turn back to Johnny to say you guys need to leave but as your eyes slide over to his you catch something straight across from you on the opposite side of the opening.
Sitting in the same position as you, is a masked face. Just staring, not moving, just laying there watching you both. You kick Johnny to get him out of whatever trance he was in and before he can question you, your pointer finger directs his gaze to the man across the way. As Johnny makes eye contact with him his body grows frigid and he quickly stand pulling it up with him. The masked man tilts his head and slowly stands as-well, mirroring your movements perfectly.
Johnny grabs your hand and before you can even process the masked man running towards you both, he’s yanking you towards the exit.
———————
#poly 141#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x fem!reader#141 x reader#task force 141#cod x reader#tf 141#zombie au
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I just got an idea for a story and have to share!! So reader and Bucky are high school sweethearts and married just before he's in the war and taken by hydra. She never finds out what happened to him and never remarries because he was the great love of her life... but just after he's taken she finds out she's pregnant.
Flash forward to the present and when Bucky is saved by the avengers he tries to find reader but finds out she died and also that he has a son. He goes to meet his son who tells Bucky all about reader from when he was growing up.
Somehow Bucky finds a way to bring reader back through teleporting her or something because he simply can't live without her.
80 years later.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warning: talks of death, angst, pregnancy, fluff.
A/N: the day I stop writing. About time travel send help because I love it. The TVA can kiss my ass. I also forgot I had written this and it was saved in my drafts for the longest time. I also thought it’d be funny if Bucky was a grandfather that looked younger than his grandkids.
Bucky stood in front of the red door and took a deep breath. He finally gets the courage to knock on the door, his hand trembling as he raked it through his long hair. When the door opens it feels like he’s been punched in the gut.
“Dad?” Surprise colors the voice of this familiar stranger.
“Hey kid.”
Bucky stood in front of an older looking version of himself. White hair and wrinkles around electric blue eyes. But the nose and the lips were all you.
James Grant Barnes, was the son you’d had right after Bucky had been shipped off to the Great War. The son Bucky would never know about because he’d fall off of a moving train and into the hands of hydra. For sixty five years you’d mourn the loss of your high school sweetheart, love of your life and husband. He’d asked for your hand in marriage as soon as you both graduated high school but only married right before he went off to boot camp. It was the happiest days of both your lives, a life you’d never get to share.
Both men stared at each other for a minute before a voice came up behind them.
“Who’s at the door pa?”
“Please come in.” Bucky gets ushered into the living room. “Make yourself at home.”
“Pa who was at the-“ a woman walks into the living room. Hair down to her shoulders, bright eyes and the spitting image of you.
“Rebecca, I'd like you to meet your grandfather.”
“You look just like her.” Bucky’s voice breaks as he speaks.
Rebecca smiles as she sits next to him and it makes Bucky’s heart ache even more. She takes his right hand in hers and squeezes it gently.
“I’m sorry you lost your time with grandma. I feel like I’ve known you all of my life, she talked about you all the time and she loved you so much.”
Bucky cried at that for two reasons. The first being because hydra stole his life away from him and second because he could barely remember you. He just always knew there was something or someone missing. He could only piece parts of your relationship by what Steve told him. The only thing Bucky had of yours was a picture and you looked a bit older then.
“Would you like to see pictures?” James asks his father. Bucky only nods.
Bucky and James spent hours together watching home movies and looking through albums you’d put together. James filled in the blanks for some pictures and family moments. The more he saw the more memories from your time together came back to Bucky.
“Grandma, what was grandpa like?” A very young Rebecca asked you.
You were both sitting in a garden having a picnic. James was currently recording the interaction. While Rebecca sat beside you, you held the newest addition to the family in your arms.
“Well he was a nerd.” You giggle along with Rebecca. “The cutest nerd at our school. He loved reading and dancing and anything to do with technology.”
“Did he ever take you dancing?”
“He sure did. We went dancing every Friday night and we would always drag Stevie with us. Even the night before he went off to war we went dancing.”
“Why didn’t he come back so he could dance with you again?” Rebecca asked innocently. She was still too young to understand what had happened.
The video cuts off there and James pauses the video before it goes any further.
“I wish I could have.” Bucky says after a while.
“She knew, Ma was never mad at you or anything. She just missed you. Even when she thought I wouldn’t notice I always knew when she’d be crying over you. Especially around your birthday or your anniversary. So once I was old enough to have a job I’d always take her out to celebrate.”
“She did a good job raising you. Did she ever-“
“She never remarried or dated anyone at all. Always said you were the love of her life and that there was no use in seeing anyone else because she would just compare them to you and it wouldn’t be fair to them.” James says sadly.
“She should have. She deserved to be happy.”
“Ma was happy with the family she had. She said it herself she wouldn’t change a thing.”
Bucky nods and stands up.
“It’s getting late, I should go. Thank you for not shutting the door on me and for showing me all of this.”
“I could never shut you out. This is your family too. I never thought I’d ever meet you,” James struggled to find the words to express how he felt. “I’m happy we got a chance to meet. You’re welcome back anytime.”
“Me too, I’ll come back soon.”
James stood and they hugged. The hold they had on each other was strong and neither of them wanted to let go. When they finally did they both had tears running down their cheeks but for different reasons. Bucky cried because he missed out on raising his son and James cried because he got a chance to meet his father.
Bucky left the house with a new sense of belonging. Although he never understood why you wouldn’t have written to him to tell me he would be a father. He knew he’d never get an answer so he tried to let it go. It was a complete shock when Steve told him about it.
From that day Bucky met with James frequently. They would mostly talk about the family and what growing up was like for James. His job and his kids. Bucky wanted to stay away from the topic of what happened to him with hydra or the missions he was going on with the Avengers. James didn’t seem to mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Today was a special occasion. It was Rebecca’s birthday and the family was going to have a party. Of course the first thing she did was invite her grandfather and anyone he wanted to bring. At first he politely declined, stating that he would probably ruin the party. But she insisted, with multiple calls. She was stubborn just like you.
Bucky showed up with Steve and Sam at his side. This would be the first time Bucky would meet the rest of the family and he was nervous.
“Grandpa, you made it!” Rebecca said in a joking tone. Bucky smiles and accepts the hug she’d offered.
“Wow, Buck was not joking when he said you looked like Y/N.”
Steve stood there stunned. While he had spoken with James on the phone he hadn’t met him or anyone else from the family in person. You had been one of the few people to see Steve for who he was and what he wanted to become. The two of you had been friends for as long as Bucky and Steve had been. He grieved your death when he woke up from the ice. Now he stood in a room full of people that had loved you, he took comfort in knowing you hadn’t been alone all those years.
“Hi, grandma talked about you just as she did gramps.” Rebecca smiles at Steve and opens her arm for a hug.
“James, this is Sam.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“No, the pleasure is all mine, James. Now tell me all about your mom. I bet she had the patience of a saint to put up with these two.”
“She did.” Both men chuckle as they move to the living room.
Not only did Bucky have a son and grandchildren, he also had great grandchildren as well as nieces and nephews. They had all gathered for Rebecca’s birthday in the hopes of meeting him. It was a surreal experience to have so much family. Bucky had thought that there would be no one left. That there wouldn’t be a place for him in this world but you’d managed to make sure he wasn’t alone. Even if you never got to know what you’d done.
After introductions were made the celebration really got started. There was music and conversations going on everywhere. Steve and Sam had been accepted quickly.
“Hey Steve,” Georgie, James’ son, called out. “You should try this.” He held out a plate for Steve to grab a cookie.
“Mmm,” Steve moaned out after he took the first bite. “These taste just like the ones Y/N used to make.”
“They are. When dad said you were coming Becs and I pulled out grandma’s recipe books. She had a little note next to this recipe saying they were your favorite. She was your friend too, thought you’d like having something she used to make.”
“Thanks,” Steve cleared his throat. “This is incredibly kind of you.”
“Don’t mention it. We made a few for you to take home. So don’t forget them before you leave.”
“Trust me I’m not leaving these behind.” Steve said with a chuckle as his phone began to ring. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”
Steve moved to a more private area as he answered Nat’s call and sighed as he hung up. He went through the house until he found Sam and Bucky out in the backyard.
“There’s an emergency, we have to go.” He announced grimly. “Buck, why don’t you stay? We’ll call you for backup if we need to.”
Bucky looked at Steve then at his son and some of the other people he had been talking with moments ago. If something bad was happening he had to go. He had to make sure to keep them safe however he could. So Bucky shook his head. “I’m going with you. I’ll be back before you know it, kid.” He told James with a wry smile.
James accompanied them to the front door where he exchanged a hug with Bucky. “Please come back safe.”
The request was a punch to the gut. You’d said those exact same words on the platform just before he got on the train.
“I’ll do what I can.” He knew better than to make a promise he couldn’t keep.
Days later Steve would come back and tell James that Bucky had disappeared in the snap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bucky stood in front of the same door he had five and a half years ago. He felt the same kind of fear he did last time. The door was opened this time by Rebecca who, upon seeing Bucky standing at the door, launched herself into his arms and cried. She pulled him into the living room and sat down on the couch.
“I’m so glad you’re back.” She said with a sad smile. It only served to make Bucky’s heart stop.
“Rebecca, where's James?”
Tears started to run down her cheeks again.
“He passed away two years ago. I’m so sorry.”
Bucky’s chest tightened. He’d never been there for his son in the moments that mattered and now his son had been taken away from him. He didn’t realize he’d started crying until Rebecca pulled him into her chest. Her arms around him and he sobbed. He grieved for his son, his wife and the life he’d lost.
“I thought Steve would have told you. He was with pa when he passed.”
“No, the minute I was able to come out here I did. We didn’t even get a chance to talk.”
After what felt like hours of them just sitting there and talking, Bucky excuses himself. He needed to get back before Steve went on his final mission.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” Steve quipped.
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky and Steve hugged. “I’ll miss ya buddy. If you see her tell her I’ll always love her.” Bucky whispered.
Steve nodded and patted Bucky on his shoulder before heading to the platform.
Bucky held his breath as Steve disappeared. It should have taken only seconds based on what Bruce had said but Bucky knew he wasn’t coming back. Sam and Bruce began to argue but Bucky just turned around and started to walk away.
Bucky found it odd that Sam and Bruce went completely quiet and his steps faltered. He turned to find Steve standing on the platform and headed back.
“Tell her yourself.” Steve said with a shit eating grin as he stepped to the side.
Bucky had barely processed that Steve was back or what he had said when his eyes landed on you. You stood there wide eyed as you looked at him and then you moved. Before he could even react your arms were around his shoulders and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. Bucky snapped out of it and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Hi.” You said once you pulled back, letting out a teary laugh. Your hands cupped his cheeks. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
“I’m pretty sure I do because I’ve missed you just as much.”
For the first time in years Bucky kisses you. It’s slow and timid but perfect nonetheless. He rested his forehead against yours and breathed a sigh of relief at having you in his arms again.
“My love, there’s something I have to tell you.” You inform him.
“If it’s about James I already know.”
“How?”
“I met him. He was a full grown adult but I spent some time with him.” Bucky tells you.
“I hope you’re ready to spend more time with him.” You say as you turn to find Steve holding on to a five year old version of your son.
“Hi daddy.” James waved excitedly and Steve set him on the ground. He takes off running and jumps into Bucky’s arms, giggling at the feeling of Bucky’s scruff tickling his cheek.
“Hi kid.”
You stand back to watch father and son interact for the first time. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst at the sight. Steve stands next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you in. You cry in his embrace, this time the tears are from happiness.
“Thank you so much Steve. I never thought I’d see him again.”
“The moment I knew we could travel through time, I knew I’d go back to get you. If anyone deserves to be happy it’s both of you.” He smiles down at you.
“What about you? You deserve happiness too.”
“And I have it.” Steve said just as the platform activated again and someone stood in the middle. The suit came off to reveal a very pretty redhead. “That’s Nat, she’s my girl.”
She walks down the steps and stands beside Steve as you pull away. Steve officially introduces you both before you move toward Bucky and James.
“I have heard so much about you it’s good to finally meet you, I’m Sam.” He said as he stretched his hand out for you to shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You smile at him and then look up at Bucky. “Who is that?”
“That Bruce, he works with us.”
“Why is he green?” You whisper.
“We will explain as much as we can. Why don’t we go home?”
“Where is home?”
“I have a place in Brooklyn. You’ll stay with me while you get settled.” Steve spoke up.
“Is that ok with you?”
“Anywhere you are is ok with me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
The red door didn’t feel as intimidating this time around. Bucky explained everything that had happened to you. From his time at hydra to being saved by Steve to the family you still had. The door opens and Rebecca’s face immediately lights up when she sees it’s Bucky.
“Hey gramps, how have you-“ the words die on her tongue when she sees you standing just behind Bucky. “Grandma?”
“So I’ve been told.” Your eyes soften as you see the tears in her eyes. When she steps out and cups your face you let her. She stares in disbelief for a moment and then you bring her in for a hug.
“How is this possible? I mean you’re so young again.”
“I’ll explain anything you want to know.”
“Let me have George come over first.”
****
“That’s amazing.” Rebecca said after Bucky explained everything. “You should keep the house.”
“What?”
“You should keep this house. Dad wanted it to stay in the family but we don’t need it. But you do, especially if you want to raise him somewhere safe and away from the Avenger business.”
“George we couldn’t do that, this was your father’s house.” You said although it felt a bit weird.
“But he was your son first. Dad loved taking care of you. If he were here now he’d offer you this home. It would just sit empty until someone finally decided to sell it. Let him take care of you one last time, please.” Rebecca adds.
You and Bucky looked at each other before he spoke up. “Ok, we’ll take it.”
“Wonderful. We’ll clean it out for you and you can keep whatever furniture you’d like. You can change whatever you want in it. And if you need anything all you have to do is let us know.”
You all stood and headed to the main door and exchanged hugs.
“You have no idea how great it is to see both of you together. You deserve to be happy.” Rebecca said.
“Even though you’re technically younger than us, you’re still our grandparents and we’ll be here for you for whatever you need.” George added.
“Thank you. It’s very kind of you to help us like this.”
“It’s the least we could do, you are, or rather were, the best grandmother a kid could have asked for.”
You hug Georgie again and then Rebecca.
“I can still be that if you’d like. We can have Sunday dinners together. How about that?”
“Just like the good old days.” Rebecca said. “We’d love to.”
“Once we’ve settled in then, I’ll call you and let you know so the whole family can come over.” You inform them.
“It’ll be good. Steve has been asking about seeing you guys again.”
“So it’s settled. We’ll see you soon.”
~~~~~~~~~~
A year and a half later.
Most of the nieces and nephews and great grandkids had all left already. James was asleep in his room. The only ones left were Georgie, Rebecca, Sam, Steve and Nat. You all sat at the dinner table still trading stories. Bucky takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. You look over at him and give him a little nod and a smile which he returns.
“There’s something we’d like to tell you.” You say, getting everyone’s attention. “I’m pregnant.”
Everyone stares at you for a moment before they start congratulating you and Bucky. Sam and Steve take money out of their wallet and hand it over to Nat who is smiling smugly at them.
“What’s that about?” You ask her.
“I told them that you were acting differently. I said you were pregnant, they didn’t believe me so we bet on it.”
You laugh as you turn back to the others. Sam and Steve came up to hug you and promise to be the best uncles, but you knew that already with how they treated James. Next were Rebecca and Georgie who also promised to be there for you however they could.
****
You were exhausted by the time you laid down in bed. Bucky walked in a few minutes later after checking to make sure all the doors and windows were locked and the alarm was set on.
The bed dips behind you as Bucky lays down and immediately pulls you into his chest. His hands immediately rest on top of your very small baby bump and he kisses your shoulder.
“Today was good.” He murmurs.
“You say that every night.” He can hear the smile in your voice.
“Any day I get to hold you like this is a good day.”
“I love you Honey.”
“I love you sweetheart. And I love this little bean too.” He says as he smooths a hand over your belly.
“Little bean?”
“Yeah, we don’t know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl yet.”
“I think it’s going to be a boy.” You say confidently.
“Nope. It’s going to be a girl, I just know it.”
“You would be good with a little girl.”
“Can I ask you something, sweetheart?”
“Anything you know that.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me you were pregnant? You sent all those letters but you never mentioned it.”
This time you turn so that you’re fully facing him. You can tell it’s been weighing on him, the not knowing.
“It’s going to sound stupid. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid that if you knew I was pregnant you wouldn’t be thinking clearly out there. I don’t know, maybe you’d be afraid of getting hurt and would make a mistake and then you’d never come home. Now with everything I know I feel guilty that you never knew about him back then.”
“Don’t, I probably would have been distracted. I mean even back then all I wanted was to get back home to you. That was my only reason to fight as hard as I did. I think I would have been more afraid to fight if I knew about James. It could have been worse, I could have actually died. But I’m home now, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”
“It only took about eighty years.” You smile before pulling Bucky down for a kiss.
This new life you had was strange. You didn’t really belong in the current time you were in but you did belong with Bucky. The city was different, the only people you knew were your family and the Avengers. There was no one left from your previous life but you’d trade all of those things at a chance to be with Bucky.
Because Bucky had always been it for you. Whether it was in the 40s or eighty years later.
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ᥫ᭡ Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
.ೃ࿔*:・ 「𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬.」 gn reader, sweetheart boyfriend Childe, modern AU, gooey lovey-dovey feelings, established relationship
Inspired by, of all things, a hypothetical situation presented by my Philosophy professor. So thanks, sir Louise.
You step out of the airport terminal, gaze fixed on your phone. Around you, people bustle past you and your luggage like a river around a stone. Some grumble and give you stink eyes for being too slow, but you pay them no mind, one string away from snapping.
“Damn it,” you grumble, fiddling with your phone and the taxi-booking app you’ve got open. There’s urgency and annoyance behind the force in which you jam your fingers against the screen, scowling down at the ‘Fully Booked! Please wait a moment’ that’s been flashing across your screen in garish red letters for the past five minutes.
It’s too fucking early for this— the sun is barely over the horizon, and you can practically hear the entire community waking up with a groggy yawn. You’re tired from the flight, hungry, jet lagged and frankly you just want to meet your boyfriend at home and take a long, long nap and waste the morning away. But apparently the rest of these sleep-deprived travelers also have a similar goal— and they’ve even beaten you to the commute, too.
You don’t give up for another few minutes, frantically refreshing the app in hopes that your luck will turn around, but no dice. With a defeated sigh, you jam the phone back into your pocket, a hand reaching to your temple to soothe the incoming headache. All it takes is a few seconds for you to resign yourself to your fate of having to take the overcrowded bus back home. Hopefully the archons smile down on you and you get to sit beside someone decent. Not someone overly interested in getting your number. Or a person who spends the entire ride back on their phone, obnoxiously yelling into their device. You shudder. With the way your morning is going, it’d be just your luck that that’s exactly who you end up beside.
Not for the first time, you let yourself think about calling Childe to pick you up, but you quickly chase the thought away.
It’s tempting. So, so tempting.
He’s probably in bed right now, warm under the covers. He’d probably recognize your specific ringtone, would pick up in a heartbeat even if he’s half asleep. And you already know that he’d half-heartedly whine about it being so early in the morning, even if you both know that he’s already pulling on some going-out clothes and looking for his car keys.
Childe would drop everything and anything if you ask, which is exactly why you don’t want him picking you up. Because, if your past calls are anything to go by, he’s been having a rather rough week himself, and you’d rather brave a packed bus and motion sickness than willingly pull him away from some well deserved rest.
Thoughts of your boyfriend, happily enjoying his day off steel your resolve, and with a resolute nod to your head, you begin to turn to the airport bus stop.
Then a whistle cuts through the air and —like some fucking drama— it’s as if the crowd parts and Childe, all bed-headed and grinning, is leisurely jogging up to you.
All you can do at first is stare at him in surprise because what the fuck you must be more tired than you thought, you’re actually full-on hallucinating now.
But Childe easily comes over, one hand immediately going for the handle of your luggage, the other wrapping around your middle. He pulls you into a one-armed hug, pressing a soft, fond kiss to your forehead and wow there is no way this is a hallucination.
“Hey sweetheart.” Childe grins at you when you pull away to look at him, almost looking amused at how bewildered you are.
And you, ever so jet lagged and exhausted, can only managed to say: “You… you’re here. Uh. Hi.”
“Hey.” You can practically hear the grin in his voice. For good measure, he plants a kiss on your nose. “What, you really thought I wouldn’t be able to come pick you up? Didn’t know you think so little of me, babe.”
You splutter, not even able to form proper words aside from the occasional ‘Wh—‘ that you manage to get out.
“Your google account is still logged in on my phone,” Childe says to your unverbalized question. He shrugs apologetically as begins gently leading you in the direction he came, a hand guiding you at the small of your back. “Didn’t mean to snoop, I swear, but when the email with your flight details came in I saw the time and had a feeling you were planning to hoof it without telling anyone. Which, by the way—“
He pinches your side. Not enough to hurt, but you yelp at the surprise of it.
“—not super smart when you have a very willing boyfriend with a car ready to pick you up at the drop of a hat.”
You sigh, jabbing him back with an elbow, but all he does is grin wider. “You said you were tired! I didn’t wanna drag you out of bed or anything.”
“Well then consider me very willingly leaving the bed of my own volition, then.”
You roll your eyes, about to voice another argument that is more just for petty, affectionate bickering than actual argument, when Childe pauses and pulls you close, silencing you with a kiss to the crown of your head. You can feel the fond grin he wears.
“Missed you, sweetheart. Let’s get you home, then we can both go back to bed, okay?”
#swan feathers ♡.ೃ࿔*:·#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#genshin impact childe x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact#childe
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Crescent City - Ithan Holstrom NSFW
this is kind of old ,I am now wiser and actually want to top this man
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): very very attentive, will ask you what you need, carry you to the bathroom to wash up even if you are literally fine, bring you water everything you need he'll prepare it
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): i am a firm believer that he is an ass guy, he would never say it out loud ,but his eyes always travel down your body when you walk away from him
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): he is a wolf shifter, some interest in breeding comes with the territory, he is still very stressed about kids and bringing one into the world, he is too young for that but he can't deny himself the appeal of watching him cum leak out of you when he pulls out
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): its something he doesn't think he'd have the nerve to go through, because he is relatively possessive ,but he has thought of the possibility of a threesome with certain people, it gets him as angry and embarrassed as it gets him horny, he’d be hurt at first if you ever suggested it, but eventually his own curiosity would have him saying yes, it’d need to be someone you both know and are comfortable with though and he’d spend most of the time trying to prove himself to you, but eventually he’d relax and simply enjoy the experience
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): very little experience, just didn't have enough time , with all that was going on in his life, plus the fact he is more of a relationship guy, rather than a one night stand guy
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): the basics, they work just fine for him, he does also like reverse cowgirl
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): he tends to get lost in his head a lot, so he is more serious, very focused on bringing you pleasure, but he does love when you laugh during sex, it pulls him out of his head and into the moment ,watching you be this comfortable with him is enough to make his knees buckle
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): tried to shave the first few times he knew he was going to see you, couldn't handle the itchiness and now just tries to keep things tame by trimming
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): he tries to do romance, but it doesn’t come naturally, he is very sweet, but his idea of romance is googling how to be romantic and doing everything a top 10 list says, its cute, but wine and roses just aren’t so much his thing
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): the amount of times he has jacked off to the thought of you is embarrassing , he wants to seem mature and responsible and not scare you off ,so he hates how much you affect him ,how everything, from your perfume ,to the clothes you wear ,to simply the idea of a date with you later during the day will get him excited, totally the type of keep a shirt of yours or something to hold onto while he strokes himself
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): more on the vanilla side
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): he needs his privacy, locks and double locks every door in his or your room
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): just about anything, accidentally catching a glimpse of your ass in some pants he likes, whispering in his ear seductively, wearing a perfume he likes ,he just can't help himself, his body is always ready for you
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): hurting you, he can't bring himself to actually hurt you, physically or verbally, even if you ask him for it, he just can't do it
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): loves 69ing, isn't really good at it because he gets distracted with your mouth on him but gods ,the view and feel of your thighs around his head as well as the feeling of your mouth on him, its so overwhelming in the best way, give him some time to find his pace and he gets really good
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): Fast and rough, he tries to hold himself back and its always a battle between letting himself go entirely and trying not to hurt you
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): he will never say no ,but honestly it just doesn't work for him, he needs the time after sex to cool down with you in his arms, he needs to take his time with you and enjoy your presence, also it just makes him want you more, you can't just pull him in the middle of the day to quickly try something and then go about your day expecting him to not be distracted
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): he is kind of on the vanilla side , he sticks to whatever works right now, but with some good communication and a bit of , lets say, motivation he is game with trying out a lot of things
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): both as an ex athlete and a wolf, lets just say, his stamina is over the moon ,haha get it
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): he would be a bit weird about it at first ,kind of getting it in his head that he isn't doing a good enough job thats why you need them, but the more he thinks about it, you in your room possibly thinking of him, using a toy on yourself, legs spread open ,biting your lip as you make those sweet sounds he loves, he warms up to them, might eventually get the guts to ask you to show him exactly how you use them
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): not a tease this man can NOT deny you, if you said crawl he would without a second thought
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): he tries to muffle himself but it doesn't really work, he groans and curses and swears against you, he really isn’t aware how loud he can get
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): big on phone sex, sexting or calling him in the middle of the night so he can listen to you get off, he could be dead asleep when you ring him, his voice still groggy and gruff from when he woke up, but the second you imply what you are doing he is scrambling to lock his bedroom door and get himself comfortable
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): a grower for sure, its very smooth and on the thicker side
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): Very very high, especially in the earlier stages of your situationship/relationship whatever you want to call it, he thought he was going insane with how much he was thinking of you, how much he wanted and needed you, it hasn't gotten any better but he is used to it now
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he sleeps like a dad, he is too young to be snoring that loudly, but when he is comfortable all wrapped up with you next to him ,its almost endearing, he also likes being a little spoon even if he'd be embarrassed to admit so
#ithan holstrom#Ithan Holstrom x reader#Ithan Holstrom smut#book smut#sjm#sjm books#house of earth and blood#hosab#hoeab#cc hosab#crescent city x reader#crescent city smut#crescent city#.writing
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pitbabetober whump edition
day 3
SET UP FOR FAILURE
FINGERPRINTS I WRONGFULLY ARRESTED
“I WARNED YOU”
kenta / kim. pg13. 818 words.
during his captivity, kenta visits kim exactly once.
by then kim’s lost the track of time. he’s huddled in a corner like a kicked dog and very much feels like one with the way his entire body is one big, throbbing bruise. he doesn’t even know if it's day or night when kenta finally slinks in. the older man closes the door quietly and pauses, arms folded awkwardly in front of himself.
“i’m –"
“i don’t want to hear it.”
kim is shocked to hear how raspy his voice is but guess that’s what stubbornly refusing to say a word and choking down your screams while getting beaten up by thugs does to your vocal chords. it also hasn’t put him in a particularly forgiving mood. he has half the mind to drag himself upright and try something stupid but it’d be a waste of time and energy. he knows he won't be allowed to leave and while kenta would probably let him get in a punch or two, he's way too weak to make it count. instead he tilts his head back and settles on a withering glare.
“i warned you,” kenta tells him. “i told you to back off.”
kim scoffs. sure, kenta had shut him down every time he asked questions - why me? what’s tony’s deal with the x-hunters? is babe being targeted? how did you get that bruise? - but there's a big difference between a more or less gentle “mind your own business” and a “hey, honey, i am involved in human trafficking and black-market organ trade, you're gonna get yourself killed.”
not that it would've made much of a difference. kim can admit he is really fucking stupid when it comes to certain things. he would've gone at it differently, though, with plenty of backup. and less feelings caught during secret midnight dates. probably. even now he can't quite bring himself to regret those nights.
“i tried to keep you safe,” the older man pleads.
“and did you ever stop to consider i might have been trying to do the same? that i wanted to get you out?” kim hisses, finally looking kenta in the eye. “i saw all the scars. i knew you were in some kind of trouble and figured it must be your father pulling the strings.” he laughs humorlessly. “but instead you were right up there with him, weren’t you? giving the orders.”
kenta flinches but hurting him back isn’t as satisfying as kim would have thought. he knows the older man isn’t a monster because a monster wouldn’t be on the verge of tears right now. but kenta isn’t a very good person. he’s a spineless coward who was beaten into submission a long time ago and if violently kidnapping his lover to drag him to the wolves didn’t snap kenta out of it, kim isn’t sure anything ever will.
“i’ll get you out,” kenta tells him quietly. “i promise, kim. i won't let you die here.”
he sounds like he actually believes it but for kim it rings hollow. he looks down and stares at his bruised hands. he busted his knuckles during the fight in his hotel room and henchman #1 broke two of his fingers when he made a go for the man’s gun in the elevator. his eyes travel down to his knee that is visibly swollen and certainly fucked up. he’s no expert but he's pretty sure if he doesn’t receive medical attention soon, the damage will be permanent, in which case he'd have to kiss his career as a top racer goodbye. kenta keeping him alive doesn’t really matter if he doesn’t have a life to return to.
that zaps the fight out of kim. he lets his body tilt all the way to the right until he's laying on the floor, back to the wall, all curled up to keep himself warm and protected. it's exhausting, being this angry all the time. he figures he's allowed to take a small break to wallow in self-pity now so that he can keep fighting the good fight tomorrow. or later today. fuck, he really wishes he had a window.
“please leave,” he whispers and closes his eyes.
kenta calls his name for the last time. it comes out so soft, like a prayer, and kim's mind flashes to kenta that night they first fell into bed together – wide-eyed and shy, inexperienced but oh so desperate to please. but that memory is tainted now by kenta standing his ground next to tony. he made his choice. he didn’t even blink when he handed over the knife that could easily have ended kim's life right then and there. he bites his lip and says nothing as kenta finally walks away.
the door to his cell closes and kim is left alone. he should be relieved but somehow it hurts more than all his injuries combined.
#oh boy the angst#set during captivity era#picture kenta getting kim out and them living happily ever after#kentakim#pit babe fanfic#pitbabetober#kimkenta#pit babe the series#also yes I'll have my beta look over these eventually#and post the edited versions on ao3#EVENTUALLY
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A cold cure for Insomnia
Hey look, it's not a genshin fic
wild huh?
I'll preface this with 2 things: 1: I am, for some reason, incredibly nervous abt posting a fic that is 100% outside my wheelhouse. I've never actually posted anything but genshin fic since I started uploading a couple years ago, only like, one friend has ever seen anything else from me so this is a bit of a step. 2: this is nothing put pure, indulgent lesbian bullshit and I'll also note that I have no idea how to write f/f smut, so be gentle with me.
If you're only here for my genshin stuff, have a nice day and we'll be back to regularly scheduled bullshittery shortly. Until then, please enjoy me, self indulging over my pokemon wife.
Elite 4 Rika x Fem!Reader 7.4k words, not proofread, we die like prof. sada
NSFW, honestly it's just a whole lot of fkn smut with some fluff sprinkled in there, praise kink, hair pulling, use of toys, oral, tribbing, koraidon being an unintentional wingman.
What a day.
Sometimes you wonder how Nemona did it, rushing around doing champion things all the time. Honestly, ever since you’d beat Geeta all those years ago while you were still in school, it felt like every day was ‘go here, check this gym, go there, check that gym.’ And you were getting a little tired of it.
Especially recently, with Nemona currently travelling somewhere in the Kalos region doing Arceus knows what, and Geeta being stuck in paperwork hell with the Academy preparing for their annual treasure hunt, you’d been swamped, needing to go and check every. Single. Gym. to make sure they were all up to par.
(who knows maybe this year a new student would claim the champion title and you could retire? That’d be nice.)
Montenevera was the last stop on your trip, and while the vibe was always lovely in the snowy mountain town…you’d never been particularly fond of the cold… Only made worse by Rhyme and her gang of ghost pokemon sending a particular shiver down your spine that you just couldn’t shake.
Night had fallen by the time you finally walked out the sliding doors of the League building, only to be greeted by your one nemesis.
Fucking snow.
Here, on the outskirts of Mesagoza.
You wanted to scream, but that wasn’t very becoming of a League champion now was it?
So with a sigh, you reach for a specific pokeball on your hip. The trek home wasn’t far, but in the sleet and cold, you knew it’d be faster if you rode.
Koraidon however, apparently had other ideas.
The moment his feet touch the cold ground, he yelps and backs right up and into the League building once again.
“Koraidon…c’mon bud, we just need to get home.” you sigh “I know you’re tired too…I promise to make you the best dang sandwich when we get home…yeah?”
The paradox pokemon simply looks at you with wide, sad eyes and a low chitter before he willingly returns to his ball.
Great….just great. Not even your most reliable pokemon was willing to brave even more snow, not after today.
“Woah-ho, what’s gotten under his scales?” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, snapping you from your despondent staring at Koraidon’s pokeball. The familiar click of dress boots give her away before Rika steps into view.
How she always managed to look so very casual while pulling off suspenders was beyond you, but every time you were anywhere in the vicinity of the first member of the Elite four, you found your mouth running dry and your mind wandering very far away from here. She tilts her head at you and it takes her waving her hand in front of your eyes to realise you were absolutely staring at her.
Way to go.
“Woah, you alright? You look wiped.” She comments, her brow furrowing as she looks you up and down.
“A-ah…yeah, sorry…s’been a long few days…” you eventually mumble, turning your gaze to the floor as you clip Koraidon’s ball back to your belt with the others. “Geeta’s had me checking and rechecking all the gyms to make sure they’re ready for the next treasure hunt…we just got back from Montenevera…cold…tired…and now it’s snowing a-and Koraidon is just…too tired to take me home..”
A slender, comforting hand gently rests between your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing circles and it takes everything in you to not crumble apart there, man, how desperate did you have to be to nearly cry at friendly touch? “You live all the way on the other side of town, dontcha?” She asks, her free hand raising to push some of her green hair from her face as the look of worry on her features only seems to grow “Ain’t no way you’re making that walk in this state…”
“I’ll live…” you sigh, hanging your head and readjusting your bag as you lift your head to look at the snow flurry that was definitely only getting heavier.
“Nah, C’mon, you can crash at mine tonight, it’s closer.” Rika chimes, patting you on the back and passing you a wink before she heads out the door.
You blink, watching her back in silence, there was no way she had just invited you to spend the night, absolutely no way. You needed to go see a doctor and maybe get your hearing checked-
“You comin? Or did Rhyme’s Toxtricity paralyse you up there in Montenevera?” She calls, stopping and looking over her shoulder. There's a…a look in her eyes that you can't quite make out, but it makes your heart jackhammer just that little bit, especially when she turns and offers her hand “C’mon, let's get you home, yeah?”
You swallow the lump in your throat as you blink at her outstretched, gloved hand and then up at her smile.
Arceus, you were weak…how you ever made champion when you can’t even look the first of the Elite four in the eye without feeling your cheeks heat, you’ll never know.
Finally, you reach out and take her hand, not expecting her to tug you into her side, arm draping over your shoulders as she starts walking again, all but pulling you along with her. Her hand gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she shares her body warmth with you on the trek down the mountainside towards the tunnel. For someone so slim, she was…much warmer than you expected, and you find yourself sleepily zoning out, simply focusing on one food in front of the other.
Thankfully, Rika was pretty alright with not needing to make small talk. This wasn’t the first time you had both just…existed in the same space in silence…to be fair the silence on your part before was because you had no idea how to talk to her without muddling your words like a lovestruck idiot, and perhaps that was still the case. Regardless, you play up the ‘tired’ aspect and simply bask in being close.
The unfortunate downside to the tunnel from Mesagoza up to the League headquarters, was the wind. Right now? Frigid and inhospitable, the icy chill stinging at your eyes, at least until your companion comes to your rescue, shifting you behind her taller frame and blocking the wind, hand moving from your shoulder to your hand, giving that same reassuring squeeze as she looks over her shoulder, small smile on her face.
You swear you can feel her thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles as she bends her arm behind her back to keep a secure hold on you.
Rika…she really was something else, something you didn’t deserve.
The moment the tunnel spits you both out into Mesagoza’s side streets, she takes an immediate right. Had you been walking home, you would have had to take a left and trudge all the way to the other side of the city, past the academy and almost to the pokemon centre by the west gate.
The flurry of snow was only getting worse, you can feel your clothes growing heavy and damp, and the concrete was getting slippery. Thankfully it’s not all that long before she tugs you into an apartment building and into a blessedly warm elevator. Holding you steady as your world begins to spin and blur at the edges. Perhaps you really had pushed it a bit too much today, hitting Cascarrafa, Glaseado and Montenevera in a single day…
“Hey.” Rika murmurs as your head rests against her shoulder “Stay with me, nearly there, kay? We’ll get you inside n’warmed up, yeah?”
“Mmh…kay..” you manage to mumble back, simply enjoying being held, even if it was light. Her arm wrapped around your torso as you just breath. She smells like Cedarwood…and maybe a hint of Ozone…might have something to do with her Camerupt… but it’s not an unwelcome scent at all. You only get a few moments to enjoy it before the elevator chimes, and you’re gently tugged out into, and down a hallway. Rika’s free hand fishing her keys from her pocket. She has to let you go to get the door open, muttering something about a stuck lock and needing to call maintenance, but with a bodily shove of her shoulder, the lock clicks and the door swings open.
Her apartment is blessedly warm, she must have left the heater on when she left for work this morning, because the warm air nearly takes you out before you even enter the door, needing to lean against the frame with a relieved sigh, knowing that even if you had made it home tonight, your heater had definitely not been on, and hadn't been for several days.
Rika only laughs softly, gently pulling you inside so she could close the door.
“Here…lets get you to the bathroom and into the shower…you’re absolutely freezing.” She mutters. Half-carrying you down the hall. Her apartment is…honestly what you expected. Neat enough, but not overly tidied. Lived in, comfortable, Inviting. Shades of soft greens and earthy tones scattered everywhere, a few large pokemon beds scattered about for her pokemon to enjoy outside of their balls. The only things really alluding to the fact that Rika was far more well off than most had to be the massive TV mounted to the living room wall, and what looked like one of the newer game consoles…the ones that had been super hard to get because of a manufacturing supply issue…fancy.
You don't quite register that she’s slowly pulling your clothes away from you until she’s already got your beanie, scarf and jacket off, each item thrown into her laundry hamper, at some point she’d also already started the shower for you, the room already beginning to fill with steam. You snap back to reality when theres a gently tug at the hem of your shirt, silently asking for your permission to remove it.
“O-oh, I uh…s-sorry…” you mumble, raising your arms above your head anyway, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment as she pulls the item away, the tank top beneath still leaving you modest enough to not die on the spot. “I-I can handle it from here…”
“You sure?” she murmurs softly “S’no big deal to me.”
“Y-yeah…I’ll be fine…thanks.”
You watch as the tiniest hint of…disappointment? Flickers across her features…no, surely you were imagining…but she doesn’t push it any further.
“Alrighty, I’ll go find something you can wear for the night and then throw your clothes in the laundry once you’re in the shower, yeah?”
“Mm…t-thank you Rika…you really…you didn’t have to-” you mumble, unable to meet her gaze, but she just smiles and shrugs, her fingers slowly pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.
“And what if I wanted to? You look like you need a break.” She retorts, sliding past you and continuing down the hall before you can reply.
Soon enough, the rest of your clothes join the laundry hamper and you slip into the shower, beneath the scalding spray and you want to cry all over again, your fingers begin to prick with pins and needles as they slowly regain feeling, serves you right for leaving your gloves at home.
A few minutes into your shower, you hear the distinctive, soft thud of cloth hitting the counter. “Here’s some jammies, sorry if they’re a bit big.” Rika chuckles before vanishing back down the hall. You almost don’t want to get out of the hot spray, especially not once you start giving yourself a good scrub down with whatever fancy-branded body wash she kept in here.
At least now you know what to buy that would make you smell like cedarwood…
After you feel the last of the day’s grime finally wash from your body, you shut off the water and poke your head out of the shower. Thankfully Rika had already left a towel waiting atop the clothes she’d sacrificed to you. It’s as you’re drying off that you finally get a good look in the mirror and…wow…
Now you think you understand why she’d been so concerned…you look like you had two black eyes, that's how tired you were…
–
You find Rika relaxing in the living room watching TV when you finally emerge, changed into a fresh set of long pyjamas and- you can’t even stop the giggle when you notice the clodsire slippers.
“Where on earth did you get those?” you ask, pointing to said slippers, earning a grin and a snicker from their wearer.
“Larry actually.” She chuckles “secret santa a couple years back.” With that, she pats the spot on the couch next to her, and you, now warm and content, plop down beside her without a second thought, leaning against the arm of the couch with a content sigh. “How’re you feelin?” she asks, idly flipping through the channels.
“Mmh…much better…thank you again…I…I don’t think I would have made it home…not in this weather.”
“Oh I coulda told you that, Honey. In fact I’m pretty sure I did.” She snickers, her lips quirking at the side when she notes the way your cheeks flush pink at the pet name. “I’ve ordered some takeout, s’too cold to go out n’ grab food...and I’m usually too beat after work to bother cooking.”
“Then how the hell do you stay so skinny?” You snicker at her, receiving a wink in response.
“Oh I take my cardio seriously.” is all the response she gives before she finally decides there is nothing decent on regular TV, and switches over to a streaming service, throwing on some random popular movie.
Once again, you both settle into a comfortable silence, Rika rising from the couch half an hour in to fetch the dinner left at her door before returning, at some point with a blanket in tow. You sit up a little as she places the food on the coffee table and plops down right beside you this time, draping the blanket over both your laps. It’s not until you take the first mouthful of that delightful galarian curry, that you realise just how hungry you are, barely paying attention to the movie as you scarf down your meal, fighting back tears at Rika’s acts of kindness for the third time today, and only seemingly taking a breath once you’ve finished your meal, leaning back into the arm of the couch with a content sigh, only to squeak when Rika finishes her own a few minutes later and bodily leans into your side, head to your chest and arms slowly wrapping around your torso as she pulls her legs up and gets comfortable beside you with a content huff.
Arceus she was just so…so handsome, breathtaking… and she was just…cuddling you like you’d both been doing this kind of thing for years… it was sudden, but it didn’t feel wrong…and slowly, you bring your arm down from where it had been splayed along the back of the couch, to gently card through her hair, pulling some of her bangs from her face and tucking them behind her ear.
“Hmm…you should get some sleep, kiddo…arceus knows you need it.” She hums, glancing up at you from her spot on your chest. You know she’s right, and she doesn’t complain when you shift, even reaching behind her to hand you an extra cushion to tuck behind your head as you lay out along the couch, Rika coming to rest between your legs, head once again leaning onto your chest, her extra warmth and weight just adding another layer of comfort as you both go back to watching the movie.
Now usually, usually you were the kind of person who could drop off watching a movie quite easily. But on very rare occasions, you would find yourself struck with bouts of insomnia, and unfortunately for you, they always seemed to happen after periods of prolonged stress.
Like needing to go and personally make sure every gym was up to standards…
Before you even knew it, the credits begin to roll, you’re exhausted, but offensively awake, to the point where even Rika is surprised, blinking those beautiful crimson eyes up at you.
“Can’t sleep?” she asks with a tilt of her head.
“Sometimes Insomnia is a bitch.” You concede, she makes a noise of understanding.
“Ah, yeah…I know that feeling…” she admits, staring up at you, to the point you feel your cheeks heating again, and you avert your gaze “but, thankfully, I know the best solution for that.” She adds, shimmying to push herself up on her hands and knees, looming over you, some of her hair, having been free’d of its usual ponytail, cascading over her shoulders to tickle at your face.
“O-oh? And…what might that be?” that look in her eyes is back, the one you couldn’t quite read properly back at HQ, but here, with her inches from your face? It’s loud and clear.
Hunger.
“Do you trust me?” She asks, her lips quirking into a smirk as you shrink beneath her.
“W-would I have followed you home if I hadn’t?” you manage to squeak back at her, nowhere near as confident and commanding as it had sounded in your head. It’s enough to make her chuckle, and you watch in a daze as she licks her lips, a single hand coming up to softly grip your chin, lifting your face.
“Hm, touche…” and with that, her lips are on yours, she swallows the squeaking gasp that you let out, taking the opportunity of your mouth being open to send her tongue in to explore. To you it feels like electricity, like you’d just taken a thunderbolt to the senses; She’s soft, gentle, probing, gauging your reactions. Apparently she must have liked what she got, because she deepens the kiss, nipping at your lips as one hand tangles in your hair, rougher. You like this a bit better.
You’re the one who needs to come up for air first, pulling your face away with a loud, breathless gasp as you try to catch your breath.
The look you find waiting for you is…predatory, is the only word that comes to mind, and if it wasn’t for the fact she was already between your knees, you’d be squeezing your thighs together so tight, because it’s doing something…funny to your insides.
“Hmm…you ever done anything like…this before?” She asks, voice low and husky and you’re very ready to pass away, but you manage a shake of your head and the grin you get in response?
It’s like a Mightyena who’s just found it’s lunch. She was going to eat you, and she was going to enjoy every second of it.
“Well then, we’d best move…couch sex is great n’ all, but I’d rather your first time be somewhere a little more comfortable.” she remarks, pulling away. You whine at the loss of her extra warmth, but that whine quickly turns to a yelp when she takes your arm and drags you up with a strength she hadn’t shown you before. Always full of tricks, Rika was.
The admittedly short trek down the hall to her room is…hindered. Every few steps you’d find yourself pressed against the wall, Rika towering over you as hands tangle in your hair and lips crash to yours as she steals what little breath you manage to catch before you’re separating, taking a couple more steps and repeating the process.
Right outside the bedroom door, the slim trainer actually lifts you up the wall a ways, enough so that your legs instinctively wrap around her waist, nothing but her pyjama pants and the thin boxer’s you’d borrowed off her keeping you apart, but already entirely too much clothing in the way. You moan loudly when she rolls her hips into yours, the sensations all new and overwhelming, but you don't think you’ve ever felt this good before in your life.
Her hands find your ass as she pulls back from the wall, holding you to her firmly as you both finally stumble into her room, only given a second to brace before she’s throwing you down into the blankets, and even less time before she’s on you, grinning and hungry as hands fly up your top, pushing it up your chest so she can finally access some skin.
“A-ah! Rika-” her name was lost on her for the time being, far too engrossed in leaving open mouthed kisses along your chest and stomach, mouth latching over one of your nipples while her hand works at the other. Your own hands twisting and clenching at her blanket, your squirming only made worse when she shifts again, her knee pressing between your legs and right against your aching cunt.
At some point, she manages to wrangle the top off you completely, throwing it to the void so her hands can explore the expanse of your chest properly, she leaves no patch of skin untouched, no freckle or blemish uncharted, and when your whining begins to pitch as the nipple she sucks on becomes too sensitive, she gets go, only to latch to your collar bone instead, hands roaming your body.
You let out an embarrassingly pitiful mewl when her fingers dip beneath the waistband of your borrowed boxers, and you immediately bring a hand up to cover your mouth. Rika, apparently, doesn’t like that. Her hand retreating from its place as she props herself on the other, pulling away entirely, even shifting her knee back, depriving you of that delicious friction. Your hand is tugged away from your mouth and pinned to your side, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Don’t.” She scolds quietly “I wanna hear you.”
“B-but-”
“Don’t be a brat.” she interjects, eyes flashing dangerously “I know that aint’ you… you wanna be a good girl, yeah?”
Oh.
Oh no.
That shouldn’t have such an effect on you.
There’s no hiding it from Rika either. Her smirk widens as she stares smugly down at your trembling frame.
“Oh? You like that huh? Well then, are you gonna be a good girl and do as I say?” she hums “I’ll make sure you feel real good, yeah?”
“M-mhm…” is all you manage to squeak out, earning a raised eyebrow.
“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you there, princess.” Rika snickers. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and the humiliation burns your ears and makes your insides squirm in a way you didn’t think would feel as good as it did.
“I-I’ll be good…” you whisper, your hands twisting into the sheets as Rika hums, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your burning cheek.
“That’s a good girl.” she purrs “you just relax n’let me handle things, kay?”
You actually sigh into the kiss when she does finally return to what she was doing, your arms wrapping over her shoulders as she shifts back into place, hands lightly roaming your skin, teasing and testing sensitive spots, occasionally getting a little rougher, just enough to rile you a little more, before settling again. Before she can get back into your pants however, you tug at her shirt, whining into her mouth; thankfully, Rika is smart, she gets your hint and pulls away just long enough to tug her top off.
Her skin is soft, smooth, a few burn scars and claw marks here and there as she settles beside you, one of your thighs caught between her knees as she wraps an arm under your shoulders, pulling you close to her chest as the other hand grazes southward, she doesn't dally once her fingers breech the waistband of your boxers, quickly locating the sticky mess between your thighs with a pleased hum.
“Mmm, look at that…” she hums as a pair of fingers easily delve through your pussy, retracting from your boxers entirely so she can admire the glistening slick dripping from her fingers. “You’re so wet already, honey…” Rika makes sure you watch as she pops those two fingers into her mouth and you squeak, face burning in embarrassment.
She doesn’t give you much time to react, the moment she pulls those slender fingers from her lips, she shifts, your boxers are wrenched off and you’re left bare before her as she parts your knees to settle on her belly between your thighs, eyes flashing devilishly in the low light, and hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive parts.
“R-Rika-”
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you into my bed.” She rasps between open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, arms wrapping around to keep yout hips in place as she takes her sweet time. “When was it… mmh, yeah I think it was…two years ago? Koraidon suddenly came out of his ball all sorry lookin’ in the middle of a meeting…”
Oh Arceus, you remember that meeting… Perhaps you’d been a little soft with Koraidon…he’d learnt that if he looked sorry enough, you’d make him a sandwich… but it was getting awfully hard to focus when a warm tongue suddenly licks a flat stripe into your cunt, and lips seal around your clit, shocking you from your thoughts as her strong hands prevent you from accidentally crushing her head with your thighs.
“Without even stopping to think, you got up n’ you got him what he needed.” she whispers into your thigh once she finally pulls away “middle of a meetin… n’ heres our newest champion, making a sandwich for her pokemon.” she chuckles “I dunno…something about how casually you just…did that…I’ve wanted this ever since but Geeta’s always had you running all over the place, pinning you down has always been impossible…least until today.”
“Rika…”
“You’re always doing everything for everyone else… you deserve to relax.” For a brief moment, she flashes you a genuine smile, not a hint of that handsome smirk that you’re so used to; just genuine warmth before she tugs you down by your hips and returns her mouth to you, long strokes of her tongue between your folds that leave any words dead in your throat, and your hands tangling in her hair for any semblance of control. You didn’t want to hurt her, but when she sucks harshly on your clit, you cry out and yank on her hair a little harder than you’d meant to, any apology dying when she groans and shudders, her eyes rolling back for a moment.
“You’re killin me, kid.” She sighs in the brief moment she brings herself to separate from you “keep doin that and you might end up in trouble.”
It sounds like a threat… but the way she suddenly looks so…debauched, has you tugging at her silky hair again when a pair of fingers slowly begin to prod at your core, spurring her on as you squirm and mewl.
Eventually, you feel something deep in your belly, different from before, something building that has your breath coming harshly as you try to squirm away, stopped by a firm hand pressing just below your navel.
“R-rika-! s-somethings…I-I feel-” you whimper as the pressure builds, you expect her to pull away in concern, but her eyes flash with realisation, and she only seems to double down, her long, slender fingers curling inside of you and brushes against…something. Something that has you nearly scream her name as that pressure snaps and your world turns white, fingers curling harshly into her hair.
Somewhere, through the haze, you feel a weight resting on you, and a hand resting on your cheek, but it takes a little longer for your ears to finally stop ringing and realise Rika was gently calling your name.
“There you are..” She chuckles softly as you finally remember how to uncross your eyes and look at her. “That looked intense…you ok?”
“Uh…uh-huh…” you respond dumbly, resting your cheek against her hand “what…what was that..?”
Rika’s lips pull into a thin, concerned line as her brows furrow.
“They really didn’t teach sex-ed at the academy, did they?” She asks.
“I-I mean…they did…s’just…basic..” you mumble as you slowly come down from…whatever high that just was.
“Obviously.” she sighs with a shake of her head “Was that seriously your first orgasm?”
Oh.
“oh…I uh…yeah…I guess it was.” and the humiliation was back. You knew what an orgasm was in theory…you’d just..never bothered to try it yourself.
“Well…I suppose I should count myself honoured then.” She snickers, leaning in to kiss at your undoubtedly sweaty forehead. “Couple more of those N’ I think you’ll be sleeping like a Komala.”
“M-more…?” you whisper, she laughs, catching your wide-eyed expression.
“Oh yeah, that was just foreplay, sweet thing…you did so well.”
And the praise was back, despite the way your joints feel molten hot, you still manage to squirm beneath her.
“I- s-should I…um…h-help you now?” your question is barely a whisper, all nerves…you have no idea how she did what she did but it felt…wrong to take and not give.
But Rika only shakes her head.
“What’d I say before?” she chides, slowly sitting back on her knees “Your one job tonight is to relax…I’ve got you.”
“But…what about you-”
“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll get off eventually.” She chuckles, smirking when you sigh and relent. “I want one more outta you before then though.” She mumbles as she shifts out from between your knees, sitting and reaching for her bedside table as you stare at the ceiling, basking in the shaky afterglow.
“D-did you…mean what you said before?” you mumble more at the ceiling than anything “that you’ve been…waiting for this..?”
“What reason do I have to lie to you?” She chuckles as she fiddles with…whatever she’s fiddling with. “You earned my respect the day you beat me when you first took on the Elite four, my admiration when you beat Geeta and became a champion…”
“God…those stupid glasses haunt me.” you snicker, remembering rather vividly being sat, alone in a room with Rika when you had first taken on the league, you’d read up plenty on other pokemon leagues in other regions, but never once had any of them had an interview-style exam right at the start.
“Hey, I like my glasses, thank you very much!” Rika snorts as she finally shifts back over, pulling you close with one arm as something…new slides between your legs, a quick glance and- oh.
You never really took Rika for the kind to own toys…but…at the same time, you never really gave it much thought. It’s nothing extreme, but to you, who’s never had anything other than a pair of slender fingers inside you very recently, the silicone toy is still rather intimidating.
“This ok?” She asks, mouthing at your neck and shoulder “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
“I…I do..just..nervous is all.”
“Mmh, good girl, so trusting…” there she goes again with the pet name that makes you shiver, not helped by the cold press of lubricated silicone against your still-sensitive cunt, gently pressing just that little bit further as Rika mouths your neck, nibbling down on the juncture between throat and shoulder, an adequate distraction as she pulls your leg out of the way with her own and sinks the toy in, slowly, almost tender as she coos comforts, coaxing you to relax, praise falling from her easily.
“Look at that, you took it so well.” She praises once the toy reaches the hilt “fuck, you’re making me regret not buying a harness… might just have to pick one up so I can fuck you proper, yeah?”
You can't even bring yourself to respond to her dirty talk, blinking hazily downwards as you gently press a hand just below your belly-button, taking the hint, Rika pulls the toy almost all the way out and then thrusts it back in. The feeling of it inside you, plus being able to feel it beneath your hand makes you moan loud and long, head falling back against the pillows as Rika lets you go, using her now free arm to prop herself up to watch you as she begins rhythmically working the dildo in and out of you, a small shift of her thumb has it brushing against your clit every time she sinks the silicone back into you, only adding to the layers of pleasure as your toes curl and your legs twitch.
“Look at you taking it like you were made for this, good girl.” she purrs, licking at her lips “I really shoulda found another reason to get you alone waaay before now.”
“Ungh…please…p-please…more…” It takes more than you feel like it should to beg, good as it felt, you’re worried that Rika was perhaps treating you just a little too softly. “Rika please…please please pleas-”
“Woah there, settle down baby.” She whispers, kissing at your cheek “Lookit you, telling me what you want like a good girl…who am I to deny the champion?”
Your attempt at telling her she didn’t need to use your title is quickly drowned out when she sits up, plunging the toy deeper inside of you with this new angle, brushing up against that one spot that had triggered your last orgasm. Her free hand pins your chest down as she smiles down at you, predatory and hungry for your reactions as she ups the pace, occasionally stopping to really grind the toy deep inside of you, right against that sensitive spot that has your voice pitch higher while you grip at Rika’s hand like your life depended on it.
As your next orgasm draws closer, you whimper, tugging at her hand, overstimulated ,overwhelmed, knowing you needed something, but not quite sure what that something was. At least until Rika pulls you to sit up, not even interrupting her pace as she braces you against her chest so you can hide your face away into the crook of her neck. All the while she mutters praise and pet names into your ear. She groans when that knot snaps for the second time tonight and you cry her name into her throat. You don’t pass out like you’re pretty sure you did last time at least, but as the shocks of pleasure begin to fade out, you really do begin to feel the pull of exhaustion behind your eyes as you slump against Rika’s shoulder, whimpering quietly when she slowly pulls the toy from your sensitive core, feeling the way your muscles involuntarily clench around it.
“How was that, baby? You doin alright?” She asks, gently tossing the toy back towards the bedside table as she turns her attention back to you. You were dizzy, dazed, and exhausted, yet through all that one thought still persisted.
She’d been doing all of this for you, and she still had her goddamn pants on.
Her breath hitches when your hand drops to her thighs, pressing beneath the waistband as you try to swallow down your nervousness to return the favour properly, biting your lip as you find the slick, wet mess already waiting for you; in a way, it was comforting to know that she was in fact, turned on by all of this. You’re clumsier than Rika at this, inexperienced and nervous, but you listen as she lets out a shuddering breath, her head leaning against yours for a moment as you slowly gain some confidence. That is until she grabs your wrist, ignoring your whine as she pulls your hand away and lays you back down, taking a moment to kiss any air out of your lungs, trying to calm your fraying nerves at being denied the chance to please her.
“Hey… It’s ok sweetie.” She murmurs against your lips, uncaring of your wide-eyed pout “One more…”
“Nooo.” you whine, wiggling in her grip “I cant…s’too much Rika…” truly, you didn't think you could take another, no matter how good it felt, the first two had been so intense, but Rika only smiles.
“I know you can give me one more, sweet girl.” she purrs, watching as you squirm and shake your head like you could actually deny her. “Will you stop being a brat if I told you this one will also get me off?”
At that, your squirming stops as you blink tiredly up at her, earning a chuckle and a fond shake of her head.
“R-really?”
“Yeah, s’nice n easy on you too…you wanna try?”
You seriously doubted she could get another out of you, hell, you seriously doubted you could stay awake for much longer, her initial plan definitely working…but if it brought her pleasure too…
“O-ok…I’ll try…”
“That’s my girl.” She whispers softly, pressing just as soft a kiss to your lips “Lay back for me, princess.”
You do just that, shifting a few pillows to get comfortable, if you thought your joints ached before, now you felt like you've made the trip to the three final gyms today on foot…perhaps you should make Koraidon his favourite sandwich as thanks for carrying you around all day.
You feel Rika take hold of one of your legs, lifting it so your knee bends over her shoulder as she settles into place, finally free of her own bottoms as she slots her pelvis against yours. You gasp at the feeling of your cores pressing together. It felt…soft, but almost way more intimate and intense than anything she’d done to you prior…whatever she was doing, definitely wasn’t covered in any sex-ed class you’d taken back in school.
You’re about to ask, when she rolls her hips and oh-
Perhaps it was your already overstimulated state, or just the position itself, but as she slowly grinds herself against you, the friction leaves you breathless, even more so when you look at Rika’s face. Her brow is furrowed in deep concentration as she bites at her bottom lip, face contorting in pleasure as she groans into your knee, her nails digging into the soft flesh of your thigh as she rolls her hips just a little harder, the pain only adding to the sensation.
“S-shit…” she pants, “fuck you feel so good…good girl..” she moans, head tilting back as she stares up at the ceiling, shuddering when you whimper and lift your hips as she rolls down again, sending another jolt of pleasure through you both. “That’s it princess, j-just like that… you’re gettin real good at this…”
Her words of pleasured praise do…something else to you, sparking that last bit of energy you had left to life as you continue to try and keep rhythm with her, grinding together slow and deep and watching in awe as the first member of the elite four comes apart in front of you for the first time, her sounds going from quite whispers to long moans and pleasured keens.
“Rika- R-rika…” you pant “mmf-fuck… can’t believe it’s taken this long..” the words are out of your mouth before you have the forethought to think about them “I’ve had the stupidest crush on you since we first met back when I was taking the gym challenge… you were so- ah! H-handsome and intimidating…I…thought you were a-a man and nearly called you S-sir-”
“FUCK-” her shout actually makes you jolt, and you realise she’s cumming, cunt grinding deliciously into your own as she bites down on your leg, the sudden extra jolt of pleasure-pain sending you over the edge as well with an open-mouthed scream.
Somewhere in the haze before you pass out, you make a mental note to try calling Rika ‘sir’ next time…if there was a next time.
–
It’s light out when you wake the next morning, blinking sleep from your eyes as you look out the window.
Seems the snow had only picked up during the night, most of which you don't remember after…well, everything. Save for a straw in your mouth, Rika’s gentle voice coaxing a few sips of fluid into you, and a damp cloth wiping you down, hushing your overstimulated whimpers of protest.
Somehow she’d even managed to get you dressed again without waking you…you must have crashed hard. Yet the thing that sticks out to you is that the bed is severely lacking in another body, Rika nowhere to be found.
At first, a pit of worry sows itself into your gut. Had she gone to sleep on the couch after all that? Had she had second thoughts-
A clatter from down the hall, and her warm laughter however, abate that somewhat.
“You’re such an ungainly thing.” you hear her snicker “Hold on a second it’s nearly done, needy lizard.”
Koraidon’s telltale ‘i'm hungry and sad, feed me’ whine quickly turns to happy chirping at the promise of food, his head turning to the hallway as you shuffle out of bed, blanket and all to trudge down the hall. happily leaving Rika to her business as he trots over to greet you, shoving his massive snout right into your belly.
“See? All your complainin’ woke her up!” Rika snorts, resting a hand on her hip. “N’here i was trying to make you breakfast before you woke up…”
Your cheeks heat a little at the sentiment.
“Keyword is try…good luck getting any cooking past Koraidon…” you mumble softly, petting said pokemon’s head feathers down as the other trainer leaves the kitchen, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“Well, initially I’d enlisted him to help, but that turned out to be a bust..” She snickers. “G’mornin.”
“M-morning..”
Rika tilts her head at you with an amused grin “aw, actin all shy after everything that happened last night?” she muses, chuckling when all the response you give is a slightly redder face before you drop your head into Koraidon’s feathers. Her amusement soon melts away as a warm, now intimately familiar hand, comes to rest on your back.
“Hey…” she sighs “I enjoyed myself last night… I hope you did too…”
“I-I did… its just…I…” you nibble at your bottom lip, unable to come up with the words to describe how you’re feeling. Giddy and nervous, emotional and excited, all wrapped up into one package.
Thankfully, your companion seems to take it in stride, pressing another kiss to your temple before she returns to the kitchen.
“Oh by the way.” She pipes up after a moment. “Geeta called this morning…snow’s a little too heavy today so HQ’s shut…looks like we have a long weekend.”
Oh, an extra day off? That's probably the best news you could have gotten today, considering your legs were still shaking like a newborn deerling…
“Nice..” you giggle, slowly shuffling towards the couch, pulling her blanket up over your shoulders as you flop down by the arm and get cozy.
“Thats what I said.” She snickers, soon joining you with a hot plate of food. If you’d thought the galarian curry last night had been good, this trumped it, your body screaming for food after last night’s exertion.
“Y’know, if you want…you’re more than welcome to crash here for the weekend…” Rika throws the offer casually as she eats, content smile upon her face as she watches you from the corner of her eye “Snow’s only gotten heavier since yesterday, n’I don't wantcha getting hurt tryina get home..”
This time, you can hear the intent behind her words, the intent you couldn’t read yesterday as you turn your head towards the window, to the almost whiteout of Masagoza. You contemplate the offer as you polish off your breakfast, placing the plate on the coffee table before you, watching as Koraidon happily trots up to lick the plate clean with a happy chirp.
“Hmmm…well, if you’re happy to have me…who am I to say no…sir.” you know it’s cheeky, you know it’s going to end badly for you, but watching Rika’s face suddenly go from cool, calm and collected, to beet red is totally worth it before she shoves the last mouthful of her own food into her mouth, slamming the plate onto the table before she grabs you by the collar of your shirt and hauls you up.
You cackle all the way down the hall as she all but drags you back to the bedroom.
You were in for a long weekend indeed.
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can you do a scaraether fic? like one where aether makes him admit he likes being tickled
so this was................ sent after i said requests were closed. but the funny thing is ive just gotten fucking covid and lee scaramouche is all i need in life rn so i was like fuck it we ball. anyways this was.... an experience to write.like it was fun but generally also really like..... idk.............. maybe that was because i didnt really have motivation but here it is anyway
admit it
pairing : scaraether ( read it as romantic or platonic i do not care )
word count : 1.4k
Scaramouche can not catch a damn break around here.
Since that idiot traveler found out about his only existing weakness, he just won’t quit it with his stupid antics. It’s like he just has an irresistible urge to almost kill Scaramouche every time he sees him.
And that makes purely existing quite hard, because he sees him every single day! There is no escape. There’s absolutely nothing he can do about this to make it stop.
( He could just stop seeing the traveler every day, but he refuses to even acknowledge that as a possibility. )
It’s unbearable, it’s absolutely awful, he’s never hated anything more and before this he hasn’t gotten the chance to be touched like this, so affectionately playful, in so long and he can’t bring himself to seriously tell Aether to stop. He really can’t stand being reduced to such a humiliating version of himself that by all means he wanted hidden, truly, he can’t.
And that’s what he’s desperately trying to communicate to Aether right now.
“Oh, shove it with your excuses, I know you like this.” Aether trails spidering hands up the sides of his unwilling victim. His grin looks like it might split his face in half and Scaramouche hates the fact that he’s enjoying his suffering.
His hands are gripping Aether’s as hard as he can, pushing and pulling and trying anything to get him to stop just for a second so he can breathe, but those tickling fingers are determined in their quest to make Scara pass out.
“You- You don’t know anythihihing! GAH, STOP! Fuhuhuuck-!!” Scara twists and turns, bucking his hips and smacking and pushing at Aether’s shoulders. For one blissful moment, it stops.
Panting, Scara wraps his arms around his torso and tries to kick Aether off of his thighs with the remaining strength he has, but even at his full energy that’s nothing compared to Aether. Which is to say– He fails. Despite his continued struggling, Aether doesn’t move and just starts running his mouth again.
“Say it.” That grin of his almost looks sadistic. He wiggles his awful fingers above Scara’s stomach, where his shirt has long since rode up far past where it originally sat fully protecting his sensitive skin. Now, though, he trembles and grabs both Aether’s hands on instinct. The blonde gives him a stupidly charming grin, but it’s still terrifying, the way Aether doesn’t even attempt to move his hands out of Scara’s grip, like he knows Scara knows that Aether will stop when he feels like it.
And Scara does know that. He flushes deeper, and trembles more. “Piss off! I don’t like this. I don’t like you! In fact, it’d be absolutely wonderful if you could get off- Nononostop!!” Aether drops his hands back down to Scara’s stomach, kneading at the soft, ticklish skin there and Scara howls, squealing with high pitched laughter. Trying to fight Aether off hasn’t done him any good up to this point so he slaps his hands over his mouth, trying to stifle the embarrassing, delighted squeaking and cackling. “Mmmhmph-!! Nnnh..!”
To be completely truthful, Scara does like this. In fact, he’s not sure if he’s ever adored a physical feeling more. Aether’s hands are warm and the way he laughs with Scara feels less as if he’s making fun of him and more like he’s just enjoying making Scara laugh and that knowledge gives him fluttery feelings that he refuses to think about. Even so, that flustered, giddy feeling is just as delightful as the rest. The only part of this he can say he hates is that Aether’s trying to make him admit it, and even then- That’s merely because the prospect of admitting something like that is embarrassing.
“I hate you, I hahahate you so muhuhuhuch! No, nononohoho!! Not, not that-! Aether!” Scara pushes at Aether’s shoulders and bucks as much as Aether’s position will allow him, but none of that stops the traveler from digging his fingers into his hips, massaging in circles. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, or both with either hands. He keeps the pattern completely unpredictable and combined with what he knows is Scara’s worst spot, he’s really trying to completely murder him. At last, he’s going to get rid of Scara forever and it’s going to be by way of tickling.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you do, and that’s why you’ve never stopped me once.” Aether’s sarcastic tone paired with his completely false and not at all correct accusations make Scara gasp with offense and not because he’s being mercilessly tickled within an inch of his life. “That’s also why you’re not admitting you like this, right? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you won’t do it so I’ll tickle you more!” Aether says, pressing all ten fingers into Scara’s hips and just above them, targeting both his sides and his hips while he evilly vibrates his fingers into the skin. The feeling makes Scara jolt and cry out with hiccuping, gasping laughter, squeezing his eyes shut and really pushing at Aether’s hands this time.
“Aether-! I cahahan’t, I, I, Ple-” Scara cuts his own pleading off, still too embarrassed to let go of his pride just like that. He won’t plead. …Not again, anyway.
“What, you can’t take a little tickling, Scara? Weren’t you all high-and-mighty just a second ago? I’m sure you can handle it, right?” The teasing only makes Scara’s desperate squirming increase, and he just starts babbling incoherent half-sentences, possibly along the lines of ‘I hate you,’ and multiple repetitions of him just yelling protests that aren’t really words.
Aether isn’t that sadistic, and moves his hands to lightly scritch in the middle of Scara’s stomach with a measly two fingers, giving him room to breathe while still tickling. He’s such a generous tormentor.
Well, is it really tormenting if the victim likes it? Still giggling, Scara purses his lips into a tight line, muffling it just a bit. His grip on Aether’s hands goes slack and his purple eyes shine with unshed tears when he opens them to glare at Aether. “A-Ahahare you done?” He asks, gasping in between his words.
Aether, still moving his two fingers in tandem on Scara’s poor, twitching skin, doesn’t drop his smirk. “I’ll be done when you admit you like this.” His head tilts with an innocent smile present on his face all of a sudden, as if he’s not doing anything wrong at all.
Scara doesn’t speak. For once, he just doesn’t have any sort of insult or comeback to spew at Aether for daring to do such a childish, stupid thing to him.
Aether’s evil smirk returns and he raises his hands again, only to lower them back down to idle at Scara’s sides. “Are you completely sure about this decision, Scara?”
He’s still met with nothing but silence.
Well, it’s not Aether’s funeral. He squeezes at Scara’s sides, laughing along with him when Scara jumps and squeals, those unshed tears starting to fall. Scara’s squealing, shrieking laughter goes silent and his squirming just increases tenfold, flailing and kicking and bucking- Anything to make it stop, but he still refuses to just say what they both already know is true.
( Aether was right before, of course. He wasn’t ready for it to stop, not yet. Now, though…)
Limits reached, Scara finally uses what he’d been acknowledging as a last resort and only that. “Okay! Okahahay, I’ll- Mmph! EEK-!! Stohohop, I’ll sahahay it!! P-Please!!”
Lifting his hands, Aether climbs off of Scara and folds his hands on his lap, just the picture of innocent patience.
Taking a second to breathe, Scara puts his hands to his face and mumbles something mostly incoherent.
Aether’s smirk only widens, an evil shine in his eyes. “What was that?”
“I said I like it, okay?! I like- I-I like when- Urrghh…” Scara rolls onto his side, scowling at the ground beneath him. It’s like the word itself is poisonous to him- Like he’ll just roll over and die if he says it.
“Come on, Scara, I believe in you!”
“Oh, shut up! Just… Give me a second, okay?!”
Aether waits patiently while Scara squirms and bites at his lip. “I, I like… Being…T-Tickled…”
Aether scoops Scara up into his arms, cooing and smiling at the boy now in his lap. “Awh, Scara! That was the cutest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say, ever! How can you be so precious, huh?”
Completely flushed and embarrassed out of his mind, Scaramouche pushes at Aether’s face and kicks, trying to get out of his grasp. “Ugh! Let me go, you vile creature! Augh, Stop!”
…Though, he supposes the affection isn’t too bad either.
#so .......#im back i think#sort of anyways#i just wanted to write for this specific ask ngl#lee scaramouche#ler aether#scaraether#scaramouche#aether#wanderer#genshin impact#tickle fic#my fics#i wrote this on my pc so this formatting might suck major ass idkidk
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It's not really a question, but an idea popped into my head, I watched Days of Future Past recently, imagine a student from the future, for some reason (a power I don't know) manages to go back in time and become best friends with her favorite teacher when he was younger (Peter obviously!) I don't know if anything can come out of this, but in my head the idea was brilliant lol 😝
I’ve been meaning to respond to this ask !! I thought it was absolutely delightful !!
Days of Future Past is so cozy to me. There’s just something about the way the time period is presented - with all those lovable characters - that makes it feel so genuine and fun. I’m a goofball with a childlike imagination. Nothing is more comforting to me than imagining being there tbh. As silly as it sounds.
This concept absolutely warms my heart, since it fulfills that silly dream.
Anyway, I have some thoughts under the cut !!
Peter Maximoff headcanons - Student reader goes back in time and meets their favorite, speedster teacher in his teen years!
We know Peter eventually becomes a teacher in canon. I’m not really sure what he teaches, since they never really clarified. But there’s no doubt in my mind he’d be great at his job.
Mr. Maximoff is definitely a more laid back kinda teacher
I do imagine he’s the type to playfully mess with any students who act out of line. I’ve had teachers like that before in the past. The ones who take no shit and lightheartedly tease students. That’s absolutely on brand for Peter
I also get the vibe he’d be so “how do you do fellow kids” about everything
And the students would think he’s cool anyway. I mean, he’s fast. He loves cool music - and probably some really cool movies/shows/games too!
I imagine he’d deck out his classroom/office in all kinds of pop culture memorabilia. Very similar to the way he decorated his basement back when he lived at his mom's
Reader as a mutant student would be no different than the other kids. Y’all know you’d think he was the coolest teacher there ever was. Some of you might even look up to him! And maybe also develop a harmless crush. He is handsome, after all.
Imagine your surprise - after you’ve gone back in time for mission with some of the X-Men. It’s part of your training. You never thought you’d get the chance to time travel, of all things. Or, if we're following DoFP canon; maybe you went back in time with Logan? You're one of the last surviving mutants, and your mutation is useful somehow. It could go either way!
But Mr. Maximoff is there in the past. Only, he’s seventeen, acting on impulse, and being a playful nuisance.
He thinks you’re weird as hell. You totally bizarre, future kid. But you’re also pretty alright...since you think he's so cool 'n all. Most people just think he's a freak. And hey, you're a mutant like him! He doesn't know a lot of mutants yet!
And how the heck are you from the future - but you somehow know all the bands he likes, the movies he’s into, the shows he watches, even the games he plays??
Spoiler alert - it’s because Mr. Maximoff has a tendency to show off all his favorite things in class. Dude can’t go a single day without referencing Galaga, or Star Wars, or David Bowie, or whatever else
If you’re allowed to disclose any info about the future, you’ll probably tell him he gets a teaching job. Not only that, but the kids all love him
To which he responds with a - tsh, yeah. Right.
Why would he ever become a teacher?? He hates school! He can’t ever focus in class! His grades are the worst, and he bombs every test! C’mon…no way! What’re you tryin’ to pull his leg???
Y-You’re pulling his leg, right?
It’d be dope if you got the chance to hang out with him for a little bit. You could follow him around while he got into his usual, kleptomaniac shenanigans
Y’all would definitely cause enough trouble to get the cops called on you
Actually, when you find out the local cops know his name by heart - you can't help but do a double take
Mr. Maximoff? The coolest teacher in Westchester? The dude who’s always doggin’ on students for running in the halls? He used to be a lawless rulebreaker? Holy shit!! You almost couldn't wait to return to the future, just to poke fun at him for bein' such a troublemaker in his youth
Honestly, there’s a lot of really fun ideas one could pull from this, anon. I can’t even do it justice. I’d love if anyone else wanted to add their take. My brain has been so broken lately. But thank you for your ask!! I love you dearly!!
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STWG Daily Prompt - Accidental Confessions (3/7) clarkson
In something of a new tradition, Wayne was down at the bar chatting with Scott Clarke. Wayne had been switched to days despite his complaining. Work was work and they didn’t take his pay down to day rate so there was little to complain about but Wayne liked the night shift better.
After work, he got to go out for drinks, which he hadn’t done in years and stumbled upon Hawkins Jr. High’s best science teacher also drinking alone. At first, it was a commiseration of the…fun Eddie put them both through during those wonderful tween years but it turned into other subjects. It also turned into staying later and later.
From there it turned into sharing a family recipe, fixing a broken tail light, and even skipping the bar and having a dinner at the Mexican place across the street. In Wayne’s defense, he was starving in a way mushy fries and peanuts wouldn’t cure and Scott was willing. It wasn’t anything to make a fuss over.
Though if ever there was a case for making a fuss, Wayne’s want to spend time with Scott might have been exhibit A. Anything that becomes more exciting than getting a drink after a long day is, well, a problem. This was a major problem. One bad enough they’d gone other places.
Were they kids it’d be called a crush. Wayne wasn’t sure what it was called at his age but he was certain it was something that needed to be ignored. He didn’t give in to crushes as a kid, he certainly wasn’t going to now. Instead, he found himself not applying to get back on night shifts and spending his evenings in a bar.
Scott kept showing up. That was a good thing. Maybe they could spend years sitting at this table, Scott talking about space or time travel or the shit his students said and Wayne listening like any of it made sense. Like he wasn’t thriving off watching the passion the other brought to nearly any subject.
Even better when he helped Wayne understand. The man was meant to teach, there was no other profession for him, and never once did he make Wayne feel like an idiot for not knowing something. He’d explain and if the explanation didn’t work, he’d explain that too. Scott entertained every question Wayne had with joy and a “Great question!” every time.
When Wayne talked about the Colts, Scott mixed up football with baseball (and one time basketball). He didn’t understand or care that they were better when they were a Baltimore team but he listened like he did.
It was a good thing they had going and the thing they were enjoying when Eddie burst into the bar and sat himself at their table, head in his hands. Wayne recognized the look, something melodramatic was bubbling over. If ever there was a time for silent communication it was now, Scott needed to leave. Save himself.
“I need a drink,” Eddie declared.
“You know where the bar is, boy,” Wayne answered, earning a groan of despair.
Scott looked across the table to check in with Wayne. There was too much to say but Wayne shook his head and sighed. No things weren’t okay. This wasn’t going to be fun. Also, don’t go buy him a drink, he has his own money.
Snatching the pack of cigarettes off the table, Wayne took one and then slid the pack to Eddie. The lighter followed the same path and Wayne pushed the ashtray between them.
“I’m not getting any younger, what’s going on?” Wayne gave Eddie the excuse to start talking.
“I’m sure your uncle means we’re here to help you with whatever is going on, Eddie,” Scott chimed in.
“No he doesn’t,” Wayne answered with a chuckle.
Kind and supportive was great. It was one of the things Wayne kind of liked about Scott but it wasn’t Wayne’s parenting style. Sometimes Eddie needed the shove, Wayne knew what he was doing and maybe it wasn’t what the textbooks said but they never studied a kid like Eddie.
There’s a long stretch of silence before Eddie asks “How do you know if someone likes you and they aren’t just being nice?”
Wayne lets out a long sigh, eyes wide, he doesn’t know how to answer this question. Before he has a chance to ask Eddie what makes him think Wayne’s qualified to help with this, Scott answered. Must be a teacher thing but Wayne’s a bit grateful.
“It’s kind of hard, huh? A lot of the same stuff applies but it’s the small stuff. It’s not bringing over a whole thing of soda but making sure they bring your favorite. Hell, it’s knowing your favorite. It’s coming out to a place that isn’t their normal hangout night after night just to spend time with you. Or learning about something because you’re into it because they want to be able to have better conversations and common interests.”
Sitting up a little straighter, Wayne watches Scott make eye contact with the table. He said too much and made it too obvious, and Wayne couldn’t be happier. He takes a drag of the cigarette and lets Eddie respond.
“Like they’re paying attention,” Eddie said, clearly running through every interaction he’d had with whoever was causing this stress.
“Who was that quarterback you were talking about?” Wayne asked, hushed and leaning forward. Like that stopped Eddie from hearing.
Scott takes a second before saying, “Jack Trudeau?”
The quarterback for Wayne’s team. It hadn’t said much before but after that little speech, it screamed out so much that Scott wasn’t saying. Wayne sat back in his seat, feeling a bit too smug for the embarrassment still radiating off the man sitting opposite.
Eddie and Scott continued to compare notes, Wayne was ready to kick him out of the bar. Or leave with Scott. Instead, he waited. The conversation after Eddie was out of their hair would be worth it. Wayne no longer doubted that. A conversation he never thought would never come so he didn’t mind waiting a little longer.
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