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killsbil · 6 months

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His Muse

Pairing : Ghost x Secretary Reader

Warnings: angst, smut, choking, ghost jacking off in his car. Ghost driving for some damn reason

18+ ONLY MDNI

( YES, HETEROCHROMIA GHOST. CRY)

Now, you were a secretary for a special operations force called Task Force 141. While being the secretary, they had strict rules, of course, it wasn't JUST for you, but they weren't anything hard to follow honestly. It's not like you were some damn horny teenager, you were just trying to get by with this job. You wanted some job that could help you real good...and somehow you landed with this one, being the secretary, you only had to organize nearly everything, write reports, and emails, keep up with data, and do whatever Captain Pierce asks of you.

None of the members spoke to you as they never really saw you, well they did, but you didn't pay attention. Your face was always focused on the computer, typing away, but hey? What's a girl gotta do to get by yeah? One task force menber caught your eye, Simon Riley, he was quiet, and when he spoke his voice was cold, a little too serious. But when he looked at you, you wouldn't look back. He was honestly scary looking, honestly, he looked like he could just snap you in half if you said something wrong. You never spoke to him, he's always busy, you're Always busy... and either way, what would you say to him? The only thing you could think about saying was something about his eyes, they were pretty, one eye was brown, the other grayish blue. You had never seen heterochromia in person before, it was beautiful. It wouldn't hurt to tell him that... Right? Y/n had thought, it was not like he would kill her for that.

Noticing the time, and one of the recent emails from Captain Pierce, she had to bring a folder of mission data to the meeting...in that room ..with all those people. That wasn't scary...at all, y/n unlocked her cabinet, reached in the middle for a file, and closed it back, locking it.

She'd walk down the hallway and then turn to her right, knocking on a door, the sign next to the door would read "conference room". Through the window she saw a black male, with short curly hair, he was leaning back in his chair, he turned to her and smiled for a split second. his eyes went back to somebody who was talking, Shortly after the talk was done, y/n was allowed into the room, she walked over to Captain Pierce, placing the folder down as she turned around, she saw an empty chair next to a task force member named soap, he was nice, but all discussions y/n had with him were short. Was that Ghost's chair? Noticing y/n's stare, soap smiled, his other hand which rested behind a chair pointed down the hall.

Usually, he didn't do this, he would ignore her if she came in during meetings because she wasn't supposed to hear a thing about the meetings, y/n snapped out of it as she left, closing the door behind her. Now, she didn't like him like a crush, nor was she a fan of him, she just wanted to tell him her lil compliment.

Y/n went down the hall and turned, seeing a man pour him some coffee, it was a ghost, and he needed a breather. Y/n leaned on the wall as she watched him. Honestly ..he was so.. it was unexplainable but ...the girls that get it, get it. "You just gonna stand there and look stupid?" He said, not even turning around "Oh! Sorry I-'' she was about to explain before he finished her sentence" Didn't mean to," he said..pouring coffee into his coffee cup.

"How did you know what I was gonna say?" She asked him, as she walked closer, leaning on the counter "Cause that's what every secretary before you said " he said, his voice was cold, it was like he was just...tired of playing this game, over and over. "Every secretary before me? What happened to them?" Y/n asked, now...she was curious! She had forgotten all about her compliment. Ghost would let out a sigh as he turned around. "they all got terminated, fired. Breaking rules.. or they were spies" he said, he had some skull balaclava on, not the full mask, ghost would place his cup down leaning on the counter.

"you're gonna end up just like them, you're gonna take a bribe and spy, or break that rule." He added on, he read her like a book, y/n though, she scrunched up her face in confusion, somehow feeling a little disrespectful "Okay mr mysterious" she said with a slight eye roll. "Ghost." He corrected her, his voice firm "Lieutenant ghost." He said. Y/n's eyes widened when she realized his rank, now she felt a little demotion coming for that eye roll. Ghost's face was blank, with no expression, just those eyes staring at her as if he was reading her like a book. " What rule did they break" Y/n was a little interested in the lore now.. she was glad she was on break, otherwise Captain Pierce would have her head.

"Someone lacks critical thinking skills.." he mumbled, who invited him to the bitch fest? "No dating rule. They come up to me just like you did ...no ill intent, ask questions...then there's that compliment, and it starts something" he said, each word he got close to her, y/n leaned back against the counter as his hands rested on the counter, trapping her, his eyes stared down at her as if he was disappointed. "I'm gonna say this once... Don't treat this like it's some game like you can just sway a coworker with this innocent act, be professional" he said, he was tired. But was he tired of those girls just .. treating him like he was an award, an object for pleasure, or just....the betrayal, tired of having hope, letting someone close, and then...boom.

Well, the answer was he was just... Tired of the unprofessionalism "Huh -" y/n noticed how close he was, her heart beat so damn fast, hell! She wasn't trying to seduce him, she just wanted to give him that compliment." I...I just wanted to say your eyes are pretty. I never saw them up close. I'm sorry if you thought I was trying to pursue you Lieutenant" she said, and ghost was wrong, well, half wrong. He shook his head "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Run along." He said turning his back to her and going back to his coffee...

Y/n was so confused...what the hell? She was NOT trying to seduce this man," um...right." she said walking back to her desk, part of her kind of liked that. But the other part was so damn confusing. Now, for the rest of her break, she was on the phone with her best friend until...she felt her phone vibrate, from a text message.. sent an unknown number. "Girl hold on...some number just texted me..." She said, putting her on speaker, "bitch don't you have it where unsaved numbers can't contact you??" She said, "Girl yes I do, that's why I'm confused."

She looked at the text message reading You're Loud. we can hear you down here. Now she knew it wasn't Captain Pierce because she had his number saved. "Is it your boss?" She asked "No? I have his number saved, remember he gave us that ride back to my house?" Y/n said "Oh shit...right Anyway, when is he gonna let me climb that tree-" she said "Bye Audrey, you are not getting me fired because you're sexually attracted to my boss- WHO COULD BE YOUR DAD," y/n said "call me a panther. I'm ready to take it..." Audrey said. "Bye ...get off my phone.. you're distracting me, I'll see you later." Y/n hung up on her sighing

She was a hot mess, Audrey was the friend with no filter, but anyway. She would look at the message rolling her eyes a little, y/n texted the number back saying Sorry about that, but who is this and how did you get my number? only for it to be left on read for about 50 minutes. She just rolled her eyes going back to organizing meetings and events. She hummed, and of course..responding to emails, she kind of neglected them.

Shortly after that, her phone lit up as she got a text message that said Lieutenant Ghost. with that she saved the contact. She wanted to mess with him a little, to ease the weird tension between them Responding 56 minutes later? now nice of you. She would text him. Yes, she thought she ate that. This time she got a quick response It's disrespectful to be on your phones during meetings, and you're counting the minutes Ms L/n? Y/n saw that, was she just eaten up respectfully? And Ms? SHE'S NOT EVEN MARRIED? Oh.. you could just call me Y/n, and I'm not married Lieutenant.. it would be Miss.. she would respond to his text Yeah YEAH she ate him up. noted. Would be the last text message he even sent.

soon came the end of the day, when everyone left, y/n was the only one left she had to stay back and respond to some emails, once she was done she'd lock her computer and would put any paperwork she left out, back in the respective drawers, when she went to the door she had seen the rain attacking the streets, this caused a loud annoyed groan from y/n, she didn't bring a damn umbrella cause she swore it wouldn't rain today. She suddenly felt someone behind her... who was left here? Was she not alone? As soon as she turned, she saw that it was Lieutenant Ghost, holding an umbrella at her "How far is your car..." He said. Now he didn't want her getting drenched in the rain, that's the nicest he could be at least "Oh no- my friends picking me up..." She said, smiling. That smile unthawed that heart of his, just a little. " It's 11:00 pm L/n, normal people are asleep by now," he said.

"So...you're not normal?" She asked, her smile getting wider, ghost just raised an eyebrow.."let me take you home." He said opening the door for her, he didn't exactly answer that question of hers ``You can drive? Gaz said ...you can't drive, you shouldn't be allowed behind the wheel" She said, if you saw the look on y/n's face, she looked horrified. "Do you want a ride home or do you want a sneak peek at the next little mermaid." He was getting drenched waiting for her, y/n laughed at his comment, and she stepped under the umbrella and followed him to his car, which was an eight-seater, and she mumbled sorry since she felt bad for him getting drenched. Ghost just got in behind the wheel, y/n turned to him asking him a question "Hey... Lieutenant... How come you're staying back?? Wouldn't you be sleeping about this time?" She asked "I could ask you the same, but I was getting training in.. that's all," he said, but the look on his face said differently.

Now ghost? He took care of his body, he had...muscle, a lot of it.. it was even visible when he wasn't flexing. Y/n would stare at his arms and hands as he drove, then slowly, her eyes moved back to his very own beautiful eyes. "Are you sure? You have this look on your face... Like you're not here mentally.." She said, Ghost stopped at a light, turning to her "You know, some questions aren't supposed to be asked," he said. "Well- I'm here for" "No you're not." He corrected her, internally, Ghost felt like he couldn't speak to anyone, it was a waste of time. "you can't handle anything I would tell you. that's if I did." He said, shaking his head, "How come? I'm helpful- I can handle it." She said " No." He repeated. "Please - I promise I can lift a weight off your shoulders" she begged, she wanted to help him, she felt like he could use a friend honestly "No. I'm not gonna say it again." Ghost said, sounding annoyed.

"Everyone does- "Y/n tried to speak, but she got cut off " Y/N. For the last time no, don't waste your time. You'd only hurt yourself..you'd be useless in this situation" He said, his voice like a stab directly into the heart, after that, y/n got quiet..then she furrowed her eyebrows turning to him "You don't need to be rude." She said Ghost looked confused, he didn't expect her to talk back "And I'm not useless... I'm a great listener! I don't know why but, ever since I've talked to you, you've done nothing but assume the worst about me. I just want to be your friend!" She said, Ghost started driving again, going silent before he deeply sighed "Colleagues, especially us, can't be friends. You're gonna be just like-" "I'm not like them- I don't wanna use you like a boy toy! I just think you're cool for fucks sake !" Y/n was starting to get so damn tired of his mindset.

"I understand you have this...wound but you can't just make it seem like I'm some weirdo... I'm not gonna befriend you, sleep with you, then leave! I think you're cool! " She said, "Besides, friends don't do any of that!" She added nodding. "If I say yes, are you gonna stop asking to be my friend?" He said, annoyed, he did feel a little better about her now that he knew she wasn't gonna try anything. "Yes!" Said smiling. "Does this mean I get to know your name?" She said, her smile all big.. ghost would let out a large...long dramatic sigh "Simon." He said, "That's a cute name !" She said, going to his contact, and changing his name, Ghost watched her shaking his head "But don't call me that at work. At least keep some professionalism" he said "Does that mean you'll call me by my first name?" She ignored what he said

"Did you hear what I said?" He stopped the car, turning to her with a serious look" Yes...." She said, looking away. The whole ride she didn't look him in the eyes, Ghost noticed that "look at me ." He asked, instead y/n would turning to look at a tree, Ghost would park between two cars as he gripped the girl's jaw, making her look at him. "What did I say?" He asked her, y/n stared in his eyes, fuck. She got nervous, butterflies filled her stomach as she bit her lips "Umm.. call you Lieutenant something. During work ...professional stuff..yeah." she said. Suddenly the tension between them got hot..

Ghost sighed, looking at her pretty lips a little too long.. "fuck.." he said"what... Do I have something on my face?" She said furrowing her eyebrows, confused "Nah..." He said just ..staring, was he gonna kiss her? "Hey- I mean...if you wanna kiss me .. do it, yolo?" She said, honestly she thought 3 things were gonna happen, he headbutts the fuck out of her, kisses her, or or or. Well, scratch those two things.

"That'd be unprofessional.." he said, his eyes never leaving her lips. "Oh for fucks sake then fire me for this." She lifted his mask to his lips, kissing him, and she held his face. The next thing you knew she was on his lap making out with the masked man, it got hot...he gripped her waist as her kiss got serious. A moan came from y/n as Ghost's hand slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Suddenly y/n heard her name being called, she snapped out of it looking at ghosts.

"Bloody hell. You look like you just saw a ghost." He said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion "I'm sorry Lieutenant, what were you saying..?" Y/n said blinking a couple of times "I said did you hear what I said?" He said "Oh yeah ..professionalism." she said, sighing "No, I asked you for your address?" Now Ghost was confused "What's with you? You were just staring off?" He said, looking her up and down. "Nothing...I could've just sworn... Something had happened. But it didn't? I was just imagining it." Y/n said, "But I live...." She told him his address, she only lived a couple blocks down from him.

Eventually, y/n and ghost pulled up to her pretty house, she watched the rain fall with a smile, and then she turned to Ghost "Hey.. I have a question lieutenant.." she said "Simon, we are out of work.." he said, this girl fought to be his friend and get the privilege of knowing and calling him by his name... Now she's not? "But lieutenant sounds better," she said, aggravating Simon, and she knew she was. "God, you're annoying..what is it? What's your question" he said, sighing.. he was getting used to y/n honestly.. She was cute in a sense.

"Can we take a photo ? I wanna put it in your contact.. " she said, Ghost sighed "..." He looked at her, and the look he gave told her no, but ... She wanted a yes, she pleaded, doing the little look and all "fine." Ghost, a dog trained to kill mercilessly, cracked to a secretary pleading for a photo "but don't show anyone it. Got it?" He said

"Thank you, Simon!" She giggled and hugged him, this caught Him off guard, he wasn't.. the type of person who did physical affection, but his arms wrapped around her, hugging her back as a part of him wanted to cry, she felt so nice and warm. Something so comforting, he had the urge to protect her, the urge to lock her in a cage and keep her all to himself. "Ghost..?" She said as he spaced out, his head resting on her shoulder, his grip was firm but allowed her to move

she pulled back slightly reaching for his face, and that's when his eyes snapped to her, he released her looking away.. suddenly y/ns giggle was heard "You're a hugger." She said, "I'm a soldier." He replied she shook her head "No no, deep down that hug, you cherished it..that moment was something you're gonna remember" she said, he rolled his eyes turning his head to him"What are you- some psychologist?" He squinted.

"Oh no - I went to college for ( insert major of your choice) I could never do psychology! But my friend Audrey is a psychologist so I know a couple of things." She said proudly, Ghost nodded, he knew to remember Audrey "Come on and take this picture..you got some sleep to get." He said, "Aww you care!" She said messing with him. "Y/n." He said, "Okay okay!" She laughed, his care filled with her joy and giggles... Something for a change ... Maybe she wasn't like the others, well he hoped so.

She leaned in, getting him in the frame, but he barely was in it "Oh let me readjust!" She said she moved a little, and it didn't fix. This process went on for 6 minutes. "Note to self.. don't let y/n take pictures ." He sighed "Just... Sit on my lap for the picture." He said. Y/n grew flustered, "but I could crush you-" she said trying to find a better alternative, Ghost looked offended " ' I can lift you easy, you'll find out someday..But hurry up." She said,

she sighed, climbing into his lap hovering, getting ready to take the picture, ghost glared, putting his hands onto her waist as he forced her down with ease as if she was some kind of lightweight to him." see. not that hard to sit down and listen. Atta girl, now take the picture." He said, atta girl? Sit down and listen. Y/n was flustered by his words... Whew lord she needed to act right .. She felt his arms wrap around her, and she took the picture smiling. She didn't know what Ghost did, but she took it.

Y/n had accidentally dropped her phone, she moved back against Ghost as she bent down while sitting on him "What are you doing-" he said, his heart dropping as he felt her right above something she shouldn't be on. "Well I dropped my phone, so he still!" She said she was the only one moving around, god, she didn't mean to grind but she was doing it! Ghost bit down on his lips as he resisted the urge to just.. thrust up, suddenly he felt her warmth...that didn't help. "Y/n... Please just ...look normally.." he said, his voice cracking

"Shut up I almost got it!" She said, her lower body hovering above the said area before roughly sitting down, this made Ghost tilt his head up as he roughly gripped her waist forcing her to sit up. "Have you got that damn phone yet?" He said, his chest heaving up and down. "Yeah! I got it as soon as you pulled me up, thanks again for the ride Simon, I'll pay you back I promise...are you gonna watch me go in my house?" She asked, Simon just nodded as he watched her get up, and out of the car leaving to go inside her house

GHOST POV

fuck... I know she didn't mean to do that but... Shit. Why am I so riled up over something like that? Get it together lieutenant. He thought, he looked down at his boner as he sighed...she's in her house ...and it's not like y/n could see through his windows. He sighed, unbuckling his pants, and pulling down his boxers just to see his erect cock spring out, pre cum nearly leaking out, he removed his gloves sighed, closed them strokes his shaft. You're probably wondering what he imagined, of course, it was y/n, he tilted his head back only to see y/n bouncing on his cock, a moaning and teary mess.

He bucked his hips up into his hand as he visualized how pretty her boobs would look bouncing every time she did, looking down just to see a bulge , he was the one causing it. Her whines and moans, her pleading for him to go faster, rougher, to choke her. And he did just that, then...a word came out. "love you so much!" she said, instead of shocking ghost, in this scenario he took his mask off begining to mark her up with bite marks and hickeys. Y/n gripped his short blonde shaggy hair. His thrusts became passionate as he Whined "so good..so good .. nice and warm for me" he said in a shakey voice... Finally, he came A little too much, the little scenario ended as he opened his eyes to him being in his car parked out by y/ns house, he cleaned himself up. Simon has a moment of clarity... He just sighed, before speaking to himself "I'm setting myself up again..." He said before fixing himself, driving off.

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choslut · 17 days

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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ ⌇ SHARING IS CARING. featuring s. kong + t. fushiguro.

↻ shiu gives toji an offer too good to refuse.

tags : voyeurism, phone sex, male masturbation, dirty talk, cowgirl, mentions of threesomes, slut shaming // wc. 0.7k

author’s note : there isn’t enough shiu content out there ‘m afraid, and it HURTS MEE considering i love him from infinity 2 infinity. toji and shiu are the BADDEST 2man out there and i for one would not mind gettin backshots from both ;p as always, notes n reblogs are much appreciated !! (and thank you for 300 followers!)

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

for TOJI FUSHIGURO, finding work is hard. he can’t exactly just stroll into the next place that’s hiring and hand in his cv like every other person, because unlike every other person, toji’s cv would be filled to the brim with the names of all the people he’s killed.

toji fushiguro is an assassin, and it would be a lie to say that sometimes he doesn’t hate his fucking job.

“you got anything for me?” he sits on his beaten up couch, chopsticks in hand and horse races on the television as he slurps up the last of his cup ramen. “c’mon, boss. there’s gotta be somethin’. everybody wants somebody dead these days.”

“i’m afraid not.” his boss, or more, his contractor, SHIU sighs on the other end of the line. “i told you i’d call if i had anything. work’s tight for me too.”

the line goes silent, and although shiu hasn’t quite hung up yet, toji throws back his head and groans. how hard is it for an assassin to find somebody to kill these days? the whole gig isn’t particularly helpful, either. he gets paid in lump amounts with no idea when his next job is coming through, and at times like this, toji does in fact consider paying a visit to the job centre.

just as he’s about to thank shiu for jack shit and hang up, a muffled whine on the other line drags him out of his thoughts.

“you got your girl there with you, boss?”

“i’m at home. ‘course she’s here with me.”

toji smiles. “hi there, lil’lady. whatcha up to?”

on the other end of the line, you bury your head into shiu’s neck, face flushed as you halt all movement on his lap. “nothin’.”

“don’t sound like nothin’ to me, doll. he treatin’ you good?” toji hears shiu laugh quietly through the phone.

“she doesn’t answer to you, idiot. and for the record, i’m givin’ her everything she needs and more, isn’t that right, baby?” he grinds his hips upwards and you gasp at the feeling of his tip nudging your sweet spot. “tell him how good ‘m treatin’ you.”

by this point, toji’s muted the races and put down his chopsticks, switching his phone to loudspeaker and balancing it on his shoulder so he can hear every sweet sound you’re making. his cock is out of his sweats in no time, precum staining his shirt as his tip presses up onto his abdomen.

“ ‘s g-good,” you hiccup, tears in your eyes as shiu rests a hand on your ass and starts to move you back and forth on his length. “so good, ‘n so big.”

“mm, bet that’s right, angel,” toji drawls, hand occupied with fisting his cock in time with the faint shlicking sounds echoing through his speaker. “how ‘bout next time, you get two cocks instead of one?”

“don’t get too ahead of yourself, zenin. she’s my bitch.” shiu’s tone is sour as he bucks his hips upwards, causing you to whine out.

“yeah, but I bet that slut would take it if we gave it to her.” toji grins, hand quickening when he hears you groan on the other end of the line. “sounds like she’d like that. ‘n i already told you, it’s fushiguro.”

“same difference.” it sounds like shiu’s struggling to maintain an even tone when he feels you clench down on him hard, teeth gritting as your nails dig into the fabric of his suit. “but i agree, it seems like she likes your idea. next time, instead of paying you a lump sum, i’ll let you fuck her instead.”

toji smiles, head tilting backwards as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. “nuh-uh, i still want my money.” his thumb flicks over the slit on his tip, swiping up the precum and spreading it along his pulsing length. “but i’ll take you up on your offer. cant want to try out her sweet cunt.”

on the other end of the line, you squeal, walls clamping down on shiu as you reach your climax. a loud slap resounds through toji’s phone and he grunts, ropes of white painting his knuckles as he finishes in his palm.

“she came too early. only started fuckin’ her since the time you called.”

“sounds like you haven’t been treating your bitch too well, boss, otherwise she wouldn't have been so desperate.” toji smiles, looking at the mess on his hands and shirt. “call me when you have another job. can’t wait to get my sweet reward.”

and with that, he hangs up.

PREVIOUS : DRESS UP DOLL ft. satoru gojo NEXT : FWB ft. aki hayakawa

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #shiu kong #shiu kong x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro smut #shiu kong smut

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pluto-00 · 10 months

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Miles!42 hc’s

w/black!fem!reader

a/n: they way I see ppl write him is so stereotypical..this is still miles we’re talking about! Js bc he got braids n a cooler atmosphere, bro is NOT running w a gang. Plus if my spanish is used wrong, pls tell me!! I wanna make sure this is perfect.

also…these hcs are so silly and cute <33 had alot of fun writing this tbh.

Miles!42 who acts so hard in-front of others and his friends but really he’s just as dorky and awkward. (Likes playing minecraft but keeps it on the down-low, cuz he gets embarrassed.)

Huge video game enthusiast, from mortal kombat to terraria you already know he’s on that. Ganke and him play terraria all the time.

Miles!42 who mentions you all the time which kinda pisses Ganke off.

Does certain things to impress his uncle, trying to seem cool and more like a man. But you of all people, know he’s just fronting.

Miles!42 who thinks he seems sooo nonchalant, but really he cares about you so much.

Gotta huge soft spot for you and his mama.

When he comes over to your place to hang out, he always has some type of tubbaware filled with Rio’s cooking. She refuses to send that boy over without some sort of pleasantries. Which causes your mom to ask when is miles coming over, just to have some of ríos cooking.

“When’s that lil boyfriend of yours coming over? His momma cook food real good.”

“First of all, it’s for me. Ms.Morales loves me.”

Miles!42 who is a huge sneakerhead and will talk shit if he sees you with dirty air forces.

“Yo, you kinda nasty for that.”

“Whatchu talking about?”

“Why are your forces so dirty? Didn’t I tell you I got some sneaker cleaner at my place.”

“Mmcht, man get out my face, these are old ass hell.”

Gets a side job just to buy some sneakers or those over-priced spray ground book-bags.

Always leaving his friends to hang with you.

“I’m taking my girl out today, so I can’t.”

“I cant hang, me and my girl chilling tommorrow.”

Miles!42 who runs over to your place when yall had an argument, with your favorite soda and bag of chips he got from the corner store. Apologizes a-lot, especially if he knew was in the wrong.

“M’sorry, alright? I was doing too much.”

“No shit..” You’d say before pulling him into a hug.

Acts out for his little friends, calling you “ma” in-front of them, knowing damn well his real mama at home don’t play like that.

This boy will turn into somebody’s mother in public!! Talking shi under his breath in spanish, especially when he see’s ppl acting a fool in public.

“¿Estas personas no tienen entrenamiento en el hogar?”

Very assuring when it comes to you, especially when you over think something.

“You’re doing fine, mi querída. Don’t let those bad thoughts get to you..”

Anytime he see’s you in a cute outfit, hes so quick to say

“You look beautiful, te adoro.”

When Miles had you over at his place for the first time, he introduced you to his mother right away. And then later to Uncle Aaron.

You were nervous of making a bad first impression, but she found you very respectful and a good fit for Miles. Which led to her and you becoming really close, every-time you go over to Miles place you always ask where Rio is.

“Ms. Morales! You’re future daughter-in-law is here!” Which causes miles to get embrassed and for Rio to laugh.

“Ms. Morales, miles is being mean to me,” She goes along with it, jokingly telling miles to stop bothering you.

“Ms. Morales, you gotta teach me how to make this..” Who excitedly writes down the recipe and shows you step by step on how to make it.

Uncle Aaron likes you being with miles because you bring him out of his shell. He believes Jeff wouldve enjoyed your company too.

Miles!42 who’s tender-headed. Thats it.

Don’t let nobody but himself braid his hair. Which was a shock to Uncle Aaron, when he found out Miles let you wash and braid his hair.

But you swear up and down he act’s like a baby when you braid his hair, you literally have to resort to your black momma instincts when his head moves the slightest or his hand reaches up to the area you were braiding.

“Move ya hand!”

“You tugging on my scalp, fym?”

“Not my fault you tender-headed.”

“Mmcht-“

“Don’t suck ya teeth at me-“

Misses his dad dearly, calls you up to talk to you, anything to keep his mind off of it for a while. Only to eventually open up further, while you comfort him.

Miles is a big momma’s boy. Considering Rio is the only parent he has left, he would do anything for her. She’s stressed? He’s telling her to relax for the day. It’s mothers day? He’s going all out, with a boquete of her favorite flowers and a gift that she’s been talking about for the longest but never has had the time or money to buy.

Watches anime religiously, gets into those heated anime debates like who would win Goku or One punch man? Which is one is mopping the floor Sukuna or Gojo?

#black!reader #miles 42 #wiles morales #miles 42 x reader #miles 42 x black reader #x black reader #black writers #pluto 00 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷#miles 42 hc #headcanons #miles hc #black romance #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse

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tieronecrush · 1 year

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꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter one: sweet temptations

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 3.8k

a/n: first chapter AHHHH!!! hope you all love, i am not sure if i am doing a taglist yet cause it’s a lot of work tbh so will keep y’all posted <3 and a special thanks to bestie @northernbluess for helping me with this brainchild and always screaming about javi with me. love ya sister wife <3

“Professor Peña! Welcome back, sir. So glad we have you on for another year,” the voice of the Dean of Faculty, Jim Banks, booms in the empty hallway of the Sociology department, a cramped space on the top floor of one of the, luckily, newer buildings on campus. With a large donation made to the university last year, specifically directed to the Sociology department for their ‘advancements in the field and hiring top talent’, the department was moved out of the basement and into a space that actually saw the sunlight. And had a decent view of the quad, too.

Javier stops in his tracks in the middle of the hall, turning over his shoulder and giving the man approaching behind him a strained, polite smile. He hikes the strap of his chestnut leather messenger bag further onto his shoulder, the itch of his brand new button-down scratching against his skin.

“Dean Banks, good to see you,” he sounds clipped, but Javier has always had a hard time hiding his impatience and annoyance.

“Please, Peña, like I’ve said, call me Jimmy! No need for formalities, buddy.” The dean slaps Javi’s shoulder when he reaches him, and Javier clenches his fist at his side. The whole buddy-buddy Southern thing never roped him in, and certainly not after he was made privy to what a boys’ club the academic world was.

Javier has been a professor for 6 months at Texas A&M University, based at their San Antonio campus, and has taught primarily undergraduate classes for the first semester and summer session that he was on the faculty roster. Hired into the Sociology Department after job-hunting for something to fill his time after retiring. Well, he technically resigned after the nightmare that was Cali, but he negotiated to keep his extremely cushy government pension. Never needed to work another day in his life, but damn he was getting bored. Even his Pop nearly kicked him out to get him to do something other than roaming the field of the ranch and camping out to watch the boats.

Those damn boats.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Dean Ba—Jimmy?” He takes one step back, out from under the man’s hand on his shoulder, and straightens up, grip tightening on the strap of his bag.

“Well, I do gotta favor to ask you, Peña. See, Professor Harrison has had some…extraneous circumstances that have kept him from coming back to the department this semester, and likely next semester. So, I was coming down here to ask if you would be willing to take on his graduate-level course for the semester, and possibly his next semester too. It’s Sociology of Deviance, and by god, you were the first person I thought of to fill in, ya deviant!” Banks gets a good laugh out of his own joke, the effort falling flat for Javier. He waits out the man’s reaction to his own humor, clearing his throat to attempt to egg him on and end the conversation earlier.

“So, what d’ya say, Peña? Think you can manage instructing that course? Syllabus and everything is already planned, just have to have someone actually teach the material and grade everything.”

“Uh, yeah, that would be fine. I’ll check in with Beth at the department’s front desk to get access to Professor Harrison’s material for the course,” he nods to the dean and starts to turn away, ready to retreat to the peace of his private office when Banks’ voice catches his attention again.

“Can’t thank ya enough, Peña. And, uh, try not to get yourself into any of those extraneous circumstances that will be on the class roster, yeah? Don’t want to have to replace you too. We can’t have A&M losing the Big Man on Campus, hey?”

His brows furrow as nods in response, calling out a ‘yes, sir’ as he finally starts toward his office again, stopping at the front desk of the department and requesting the materials for the graduate course, complimenting Beth’s nails with a playful wink.

At the click of his office door, he sighs and sets his bag down on the desk, turning around to face the large window overlooking the campus quad with his hands on his hips.

What the hell kind of extraneous circumstances was Dean Banks getting at? Javier’s a professional, his days of bending the rules in his career are over.

The morning goes by quickly and suddenly it’s two o’clock, fifteen minutes until the new lecture he’s been assigned to instruct. He gathers the syllabi that Beth had dropped off an hour earlier, taking his bag with him as he weaves through students in the halls and slips into the lecture hall, descending the wide stairs at the side of the rows of seats. At the start of every class, he prefers to spend the minutes before gathering his thoughts and laying out everything he needs to get covered. Today’s an easy day, the only goals are to hand out and review the syllabus, and to have the students introduce themselves.

At the prompt time of 2:15 pm, Javier clears his throat and quiets the chit-chatting down, looking up for the first time and meeting a set of eyes that dry his throat immediately. Soft, supple lips are quirked up into a smile, tendrils of short bangs framing her face. Her skin looks like velvet, with baby pink rouge on her cheeks, and a swipe of gloss across her bottom lip. His eyes combed down to her open chest, the scoop-neck baby tee emblemed with some band’s name that he didn’t know. When you smile at him, he feels his heart pound and his cock jump, suddenly grateful for the pretentious podium that he is standing behind.

So those are the extraneous circumstances Dean Banks was getting at.

It was the second semester of your two-year Master's program, and you were honestly excited for the first day of classes. Over the summer session, you had taken a couple of courses to get ahead and worked as a Teaching Assistant for one of your old undergraduate professors. It was about four years ago that you graduated, working in Corporate America before deciding to go back to school and pursue your found passion in Criminal Psychology. The Teaching Assistant job paid pitifully, as you should have expected, so you had turned to an external opportunity that quickly, and easily, became profitable for you and allowed for you to quit TA-ing and focus on your studies for this semester.

The first class of the first day is Sociology of Deviance, a class that is scheduled for Monday and Wednesday afternoons. When you registered for the course, the instructor was listed as “To Be Determined” but as a required credit for your degree, you signed up for this semester anyway.

And holy shit, you’re glad you did.

A few minutes after two o’clock, the lecture hall door opened and slowly shut, the man in a baby blue button-up and tailored slacks stalks down the stairs to your right, headed for the desk in front of the green chalkboards. Underneath the tiny laminate surface that swings out from your chair, you cross your legs and sit up, eyes trained on your professor. His dark hair is clean cut, but not too cropped, swept to the side and up away from his face. A strong, full mustache adorns his upper lip, perfectly groomed along with his clean-shaven, sharp jaw. Wide, expansive shoulders strain under the material of his shirt, the top button near the collar undone and his tie slightly tugged down. The silver belt buckle sitting at his waist glistens in the fluorescent lights, one glance given down his legs and then to his muscular arms when he turns around to write his name on the board.

Professor Peña.

No fucking way, you think to yourself, immediately more engaged than his looks had you. The Javier Peña was teaching one of your courses, a name buzzing around campus over the summer, one that you had read about over and over for the last few years while focusing on the World News section of the paper. The DEA agent not only had a part in taking down Pablo Escobar, but he was also the agent who found and arrested Gilberto Rodriguez, a godfather of the Cali Cartel, and eventually took down the rest of the whole organized crime family.

Finally, someone who actually had some experience with crime outside of a courtroom.

Uncapping the ballpoint pen laid in front of you, you tap it against your chin as you listen to Professor Peña recount his philosophies in teaching. According to him, he prioritizes ethical and principled practices in the field, noting personal experiences he had with the opposite. You vaguely remember a story from the Miami Herald about his involvement with Los Pepes during Escobar, and you could never forget reading about the corruption of not only the Colombian government but the US government during the Cali days. That case — that scandal that he exposed was a big reason you dove back into criminology. You wanted to be a person who would better it for the people under the jurisdictions of the judicial system, as naive as it may sound.

A thick, stapled stack of packets gets dropped onto your desk, eyesight zoning back in to look to your side and face your professor standing next to your chair. He gives a tight smile, nodding his head to your left.

“Please pass these down that way after you take one for yourself.”

Even from that simple statement, his deep, raspy voice has you sucking your teeth, shaking your head to yourself as you pass on the stack of syllabi, and turning your attention to the outline of the semester. As you study the required readings, Professor Peña returns to the front. Another clearing of his throat turns your eyes up, sitting up straight again as you watch him lean back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“At the beginning of each semester, I like to have everyone go around and introduce themselves. Now, I know you’re all adults and probably don’t want to do this, but it helps me to remember you when I’m grading all your shit,” he gives a closed smile to the room as a rumble of gentle laughter erupts and quickly fades.

“Anyone want to volunteer to go first?” Professor Peña scans the room, interrupted by a brunette guy that looks to be around your age, an eager smile on his face.

“I’ll go first, Professor. My name’s Alex, I’m in the first semester of my first year of law school. Planning to focus on Criminal Law. I went to UT Austin for undergrad. Go Longhorns!” The exclamation gets some applause, you note the lack of reaction from Professor Peña and smiling to yourself.

Thank god he isn’t one of those insufferable college sports obsessed men.

A handful more of your classmates take their turns, and you politely pay attention to each of them, but unable to shake the feeling of eyes on you. One glance toward the front and you catch Professor Peña’s eyes, darting away toward the student speaking and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

If you could read his mind right now, you surely would be dropping the class. Javier can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you, entranced by every angle of your face that he’s given, your head turning to face each of your classmates as they speak. It’s endearing how engaged you seem in learning about your peers, and it snaps him out of the daze for a moment when he realizes that he is really the one that needs to be paying attention to the names being spoken.

The only reprieve he seems to get is when you take your turn to introduce yourself, giving your name to the room and each detail you offer, he automatically categorizes into his brain to remember. In those thirty seconds that you are solely speaking, his gaze is trained on you, watching the pout of your glossy lips as they move together and apart, your tongue hitting behind your teeth and the softly shadowed eyelids that crinkle at the sides when you smile. Something you’ve said makes you laugh a bit, the sound ringing in his ears and pumping his heart faster.

The focus moves from you to the next student to volunteer, but Javier can’t help the lingering of his eyes across your collarbone, sloped shoulder and pen bouncing in between your fingers.

Enamored. Infatuated. Bewitched, even.

God, he shouldn’t be thinking about his student this way.

But you are so fucking gorgeous. And clearly kind, with the way you focus on everyone speaking, gentle smiles given to everyone. You have to be intelligent, pursuing a Master’s degree. And you seem so delicate, so sweet.

What do you taste like?

Nope, not going there Javier. Sure, he’s lonely, but with a student? After another professor just got caught with one, allegedly?

Before he knows it, every student has given their name and random facts about themselves, and he can finally turn his back to the room to begin writing out the required, upcoming assignments and go over the material that will be covered over the next few months. In the blink of an eye, class is wrapping up and he lets out a long exhale, longing for about two fingers of the whiskey that is sitting in the bottom drawer of his desk.

He leans over the table in front of him, shuffling the extra syllabi together and organizing them into his briefcase while the students funnel out of the lecture hall. Brows furrowed, he sighs when he hears footsteps approaching, glancing up to see that little band t-shirt he noticed before, now the view of a dark evergreen, black, and hints of yellow plaid and pleated skirt with legs extending from the mid-thigh hem, and suddenly he’s standing up a bit too quickly to acknowledge your approach.

“Excuse me, Professor Peña?” you ask, saccharine and well-mannered.

“How can I help you?” he responds, not managing to hold back the grin that ticks up one side of his mouth.

“I wanted to properly introduce myself to you,” you give him your name with your hand stretched out, “I know it sounds kiss-ass, but I am really excited to be able to take a course from you. It’s cool to have a non-lawyer professor in criminology courses.”

“I appreciate that,” he slips his palm against your outstretched hand, shaking it and noting your firm handshake, “Hopefully, I live up to your expectations as a professor. Not sure if I will have as good of a grip on the material as Professor Harrison would’ve, this is my first time teaching this class.”

You drop his hand and wave off his concern, a smile still plastered on your face. It’s not forced, by any means, he can see it’s a genuine expression which has his insides stirring again.

“I’m sure you will exceed expectations, especially if the reviews from my graduate cohort have told me anything.” The statement is punctuated with a faint laugh, echoed by Javi as he tilts his head in questioning.

“Glad to hear that I am… well-liked?”

“You could say that, Professor Peña,” you raise your eyebrows with a curl of your lips, nodding slowly, “Well, I should let you get back to your office. Looking forward to the semester.”

“Nice to meet you,” he repeats your name, “And be sure to read your syllabus.”

You turn around as you climb up the stairs of the lecture hall, wide smile, “Oh, I always do my homework, Professor Peña. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Luckily during syllabus week, Javier’s workload is light enough to stay on top of his emails and be able to plan ahead for the next few weeks when things will start to ramp up and assignments will be due.

In his office the next morning, he’s in the midst of slowly working through his short to-do list before his class at one o’clock. With a familiar chime from the clunky machinery on his desk, he turns to the screen and clicks open the tab with his university email address. A new message is in his inbox, one from a student. He starts to skim the message to look for questions asked, thinking to himself as he shakes his head with a disbelieving scoff.

A student already emailing? It’s the first fucking week, c’mon kid, let up and have a little fun during syllabus w—

Oh, wait, it’s you. From his graduate course yesterday afternoon. The student off to the left, with the sweet smile and doe eyes, tight t-shirt and juicy lips.

What would they look like around him?

Jesus Christ, Javier. Get your shit together. A student. That is what you are, and all that you can be.

At least until you graduate.

Shut up, Peña!

He argues back and forth with himself, the angel and devil on his shoulders both making convincing arguments. Physically shaking himself out of the thoughts, he focuses back on your actual message, fully reading it now and chuckling to himself when it’s simply a message about a mistake in the syllabus.

One of the readings is listed with the wrong author, but of course, with how amiable and courteous you are, it’s phrased as a question rather than flat out telling him it’s wrong. Something along the lines of “Sorry Professor, but did I get this wrong…”

He’s not offended, he didn’t write the syllabus, and even if he did, he still would feel no qualms about being corrected where it was due.

There’s a flash of something in his chest, the smallest bit of anger when he thinks about you drafting this email to him, likely nervous you’d get a shitty response back. He knows the type of shit his colleagues say to their female students, and it grates on him every time. Typing up a reply to you, he answers the question concisely. The cursor blinks for a minute on the screen, deciding whether or not to finish off the message with some words of encouragement or not.

Quickly, he adds ‘And please, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong. Clearly you know your stuff, and I could use some help with navigating this new course.’ Adding his signature, he hits send before he can give it another thought.

Exiting out of the window, an ad pops up onto his desktop. Javier moves his mouse to hover over the ‘X’ button, the baby pink banner catching his attention.

Sweet Temptations.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he clicks through to the website, licking his lips when he’s greeted with a logo design that features the silhouette of a woman as the ‘T’.

Javier is lonely.

He moved away from Laredo, where his father resides on the family ranch, the only familiar piece of the US that he was eager to return to. That excitement for the slow life burned out quickly, angst settling in and keeping him on edge — those damn boats.

Chucho encouraged the move, the job, the lifestyle change. Something busier to keep his mind and body occupied, left active enough to forget about the news from over the border, the runs happening right behind his family’s land.

Sure, Laredo is a short drive away, but the distance from family and the few friends he has at home, plus no informants to spend his evenings with, Javier has become decidedly lonely. And these days, he is open to any means of companionship.

For a few minutes, Javi pokes around the site, reading about the matching process for men “seeking arrangements” that “avoid the complications of traditional dating”.

From what he can gather, it’s a place to find a sugar baby. And as a man who was — honestly is supportive of sex work (if this even counts as sex work?), he isn’t above paying for an arrangement that will work for him. Traditional dating hasn’t given him much luck, too many expectations put on him upfront, and too big of a jump to be made that he isn’t quite adjusted for.

All of this logic is leading him to the sign up tab, filling out his information. He creates a new email address for this purpose, choosing a simple ‘[email protected]’. The rest of the form is a simple questionnaire, looking to get the gist of what he’s looking for out of this arrangement and what kind of woman he typically goes for.

He hovers over one question: ‘Are you looking for a relationship that will be sexually active?’. It’s a check of ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and suddenly the back of his neck is burning with a hint of shame as he selects ‘yes’.

After the rest of it is answered, he submits it.

If this goes nowhere, hey, at least he tried.

In the exact same spot a week later, Javier is slumped in his chair at his large desk, the sleeves of his button up rolled up to expose his forearms as he does the reading for his own class, preparation for Sociology of Deviance tomorrow afternoon.

Last week, at the second meeting of the cohort, he was impressed by your analysis of the first reading assignment, joking with you after you hit all the key points that ‘you could come up here and teach and give him a break’. That same jolt of energy from last Monday passed through him when you smiled bashfully at him, actively listening for the rest of the lecture. Before he could pull you to compliment you again, you were up the stairs and out the door, a tiny piece of notebook paper left behind. He stalks up to the desk you were at, picking up the scrap and grinning to himself when he sees a doodle of yours. It’s him, it has to be with the prominent ‘stache and eyebrows, his characteristically accurate head floating on the page. He tucks the drawing into his pocket and leaves for the day, stowing the art piece in the top drawer of his desk.

Today, he flicks the paper around in between his fingers, studying the fluid line work when his computer sings again with an incoming email. With nothing in his work inbox, he checks his new personal one, greeted with an excitable subject line:

YOU’VE GOT A MATCH!

JaviP & TheOnlyAngel

tagging some peeps that requested it but not sure if i will have a taglist for this series lol: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @sugadolly @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña series #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena x female reader #javier pena series #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena smut

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ckret2 · 5 months

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I love the fact that the axolotl is kind of a neutral entity.

Many headcanon it as a being that wants to do the righteous thing no matter what. But here it just seems to interfere when it's part of the deity job deal or out of curiosity.

And it's funny because bill thought as well that the Ax would be like a god of justice, and the way he reacted when he realized that was not the case it's so funny, but also made me wonder how they will interact with each other in the future!

Now bill knows the body isn't a punishment, is part of what he asked the ax for, to return, but he never said how he wanted to return, so I guess the ax it took the opportunity to temporarily? stop him. Maybe the ax isn't always trying to be righteous but i'm sure it does want to keep bill from destroying the universe.

I'm dying to know how this develops in the next chapters!

I saved this ask from last week's chapter since this week's goes even farther in making him a neutral entity, with Bill talking about stuff like how he handles "casual meet-and-greets."

I do think that the Axolotl very strongly believes in doing the righteous thing; but like... in the same way as a lawyer that takes pro bono cases for defendants who otherwise wouldn't stand a chance. (This is a No Lawyer Slander zone, this isn't a setup for "oh well if he's like an attorney then he's evil lol" joke.) A righteously-motivated lawyer can take cases all day that ensure a downtrodden defendant has his civil rights respected...

... but because of that, he's not taking the big flashy cases that go all the way to the Supreme Court and help nationally change civil rights. (But if he were taking the flashy cases, who would help THIS defendant?)

... and he might be the pro bono attorney of a mass murderer, in which case some people might think defending him AT ALL is contrary to their idea of justice. (But if he doesn't defend him, who will? Somebody's gotta defend that murderer.)

... and if he's in his office working and he sees a bird outside pecking at a bug, he might stop to watch.

... and when he commutes home after work, he might drive a car that burns gas and makes the environment just a little bit worse.

... and at home he'll probably watch TV rather than spend his precious downtime throwing himself into championing yet another social justice cause.

The Ax isn't a flawlessly Lawful Good Fantasy God, he's just some dude powerful enough you could call him a god if you believe in that kind of thing. And "some dude" can fight for justice without fighting for it EVERY SINGLE SECOND.

A pro bono attorney doesn't look like a figure of righteousness when he's commuting or watching TV or having lunch.

And it's probably hard to see what righteousness he's putting into the world at all if you're the bug getting pecked by the bird or splattering against his windshield. What does his "justice" mean to you? Today, Gravity Falls is the anthill.

And—in spite of the above metaphor—this isn't just some random shitty defendant. Bill Cipher is a big splashy Supreme Court change-the-divine-definition-of-justice court case.

#cosmicalunrest #ask #bill goldilocks cipher

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confiscatedpeaches · 1 year

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A Pathetic Crush, William Afton x afab Reader

Confessing your feelings for your boss didn't turn out as good as you expected, or did it?

Minors DNI. TW: smut, verbal abuse, noncon/manipulation, SA, implied age-gap, generally not a good time for the reader. Reader is assumed to be 18+

You wait outside his office door, heart beating in your throat. Today is the day, you're finally going to reveal your feelings for your boss. Over the last couple of months you seem to have gotten pretty close to him, even making him laugh a couple of times. He always seemed like such a sweetheart, always kind and considerate towards you.

Late for work because somebody hit your car? "No worries love", have to call in sick last minute? "That's alright darling, I can find someone to cover for you." The pet names were a huge plus, especially with his accent. He never seemed to use them with any of your coworkers either. Maybe he feels something special for you as well?

A few moments pass, could he have not heard your knocking? He is always so busy, you pray you aren't bothering him. You raise your hand to knock again when the door opens.

"Oh hello love, come in, come in."

He gestures you inside before closing the door behind him. You turn to face him. He smiles sweetly and tilts his head.

"What brings you to my office darling?" He asks.

You can feel your pulse quicken.

"Well, honestly Mr. Afton I have something to tell you." You answer.

Your hands are clasped in front of your chest, your fingers turning white from being held so tight. This is your big moment, you finally get to say it.

"Well get on with it doll." He says.

You clear your throat.

"Look I really don't know how to say this, I have been trying to tell you for months now, but I have feelings for you."

His smile remains plastered across his face, but his eyes gain an intensity to them.

"Wow, you really think I'd go out with someone as worthless as you? You're barely worth a quick fuck."

You freeze, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. How could he say something like that? You thought you were friends, maybe something more. You hic, trying to suppress the tears that are now rolling down your cheeks. Who is this man?

"I.. am sorry?" You ask.

"Oh don't be sorry, I'm just surprised you had the gall to actually vocalize your feelings."

You look around, trying to find a way out of this situation, but his tall figure is blocking the only exit.

"I, uh... I don't know what to say."

He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Show me how much you want me darling, don't make me fire you now. I know you really need this job."

What? He's right, but how could he be doing this to you right now?

"Are you daft? Did you not hear me? Get on your fucking knees and beg."

The sudden raising of his voice scared you. Not knowing what to do, you drop to your knees.

"Good bunny. Now, beg."

You look down at the ground. Are you really going to beg? Of course you are, what else could you do?

"I... please.. I like you.. please."

His hand grabs your face, tilting it up towards him.

"Eyes on me love, and try a little harder. Gotta' stay employed right?"

You look up at him. His face twisted into a wicked grin staring down at you. You can feel how erect he is through the thin fabric of his pants.

"Please, I want you... to fuck me.. please."

He groans, petting your head with his hand. It feels so good to please him. You feel your panties becoming wet with slick.

"Mmm, good bunny... say more for me.""

"I.. I want to suck your cock... please... I'll do a good job."

You swallow hard. A mix of embarrassment and pleasure swirls within you. He lets go of your head and unzips his pants. He pulls down his underwear and lets out his fully erect cock. The tip is already wet with precum. The light from the window glistens on it.

"Go on then."

You pause and he smacks you with his erection.

"I said suck. You wanted this right? You little whore."

You place your hand on his cock and begin stroking. You part your lips and slide his member into your mouth. Tongue caressing his head, you notice how salty and warm he tastes. He tastes so good, you let out a small moan.

"You're so pathetic, you can't even suck dick right. Let me show you how to do it."

He grabs the sides of your head before forcing his cock further into your throat, making you gag and jolt. He's so massive, you aren't even sure how you're doing this right now. You feel the tip of his member hit the back of your throat, causing it to tighten. He groans and moans as he thrusts into you.

"God yes... good, fucking, bunny... mmmphh."

His hips smash into your lips over and over. The sound of slapping and the smell of sweat, hormones, and humidity fills the room. At first you remain tense. Part of you wishes to resist him, but eventually you relax and give in. It feels so wrong, but so good. You wish you could stay like this forever. Pleasing him feels wonderful, like you were made to bring him pleasure. You feel like he has broken you somehow, used your libido against you. Made you truly his one and only toy.

"Good, just relax. You're loving this aren't you? Pathetic slut, moaning on my cock."

His grunts intensify. He thrusts faster and faster with each sound he makes. You taste a large warm salty release as his seed begins spilling down your throat.

"Swallow, all of it."

You do as he asks and savor each drop. Your throat, freshly fucked raw, greedily takes his cum. His cock throbs inside you.

Once satisfied, he pulls out of you. Your jaw hurts and misses his absence. He lets out a huff.

"Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully okay? I expect you to be in my office after your shift every week, without panties, ready for me to fuck the life out of you. Understand?"

You nod. Feeling happy and full of him, you finally got what you wanted.

#william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf x reader #william afton x you #fnaf smut

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chewbokachoi · 8 days

Text

Just Lay Still

Kabal knew he was on an operating table. There were bright lights and annoying beeps. Everything hurt and breathing was a job he wasn't being paid enough for. He felt an uncomfortable warmth at his center.

He blinked as somebody moved–they had been looming over him, blocking some of the harsh light.

"You thought you could get away, didn't you?"

Kabal heard his heart freeze. He swallowed as Kano let out his low, threatening laugh. He wanted to ask, like an idiot, where Stryker was. But as he opened his mouth, something hard and plastic was pushed through. Or moved. He couldn't tell anymore.

"Burnt bad. Do what you gotta to save him." Kano said, stepping away.

Half a dozen shadows appeared, blocking the bright light. Kabal felt himself drifting away, surrounded by men and women loyal only to Kano. As he fell further and further into the darkness, he realized there was no escape from Kano.

Yet he found himself praying to whatever was out there that Stryker had gotten away. Perhaps he was spared because Kano had no interest in him. Or perhaps he was marked for another day–for the day Kabal was back and operational at Kano's call.

Written to "Just Lay Still" by John Congleton and the Nighty Nite

uh yeah a certain post about Kabal never escaping Kano was on my dash and I thought that was cool and then I stumbled on this song and suddenly it was like getting run over by inspiration and the drive to write this

#mortal kombat #kabal #kano #i feel weird tagging people ok also the song has elements some might find uncomfortable #okay anyway hi here have this piece i can't get the song outta my head who needs sleep anyway ammirite baiii #song challenge

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loftylockjaw · 2 months

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Wormhole PARTIES: Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) & Caleb (@dirtwatchman) SUMMARY: Wyatt spots Caleb outside the bar. He confronts him about what happened with Charlie. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

—

Worm Row was never an ideal location but Caleb was desperate. His clients weren’t calling him back, not that he could blame them, and the demon that occupied his body for over a month had blown a lot of the cash that he had stored away. Not to mention being softly fired meaning no more job at the cemetery. So turning down jobs wasn’t something he could do. Beggars couldn’t be picky, or whatever the saying was. When the manager at the Wormhole had called about one of their taps being on the fritz he’d greedily made his way down there on the emergency call before downing a few of the rancid drinks on the house. Maybe more than a few. His head was swimming just a little as he made his way out of the bar.

And promptly wanted to turn right back around.

Wyatt was in that category of people that Caleb was trying to avoid these days. Seeing him coming down the street had the zombie panicking, turning to try and go back inside before Wyatt could see him only to knock over the trash cans sitting next to the door. “Shit.” He looked down as the loud clangs rang out and then quickly back up at the gator, sheepish this time. There was no avoiding him now. Wyatt had seen him and was only a few feet away.

This conversation probably needed to be had but Caleb had been avoiding it for reasons. He’d apparently hurt somebody that Wyatt cared about and then turned the blame on him making the zombie seem like some love sick psycho who was only throwing a tantrum because a boyfriend or whatever he was had walked out. Closing his eyes, he took a steadying breath before turning his body back to face Wyatt. “Um, hi.” What else could he say? ‘Sorry I stabbed your friend and put you through hell?’ It might have been a good place to start but his brain was malfunctioning, the alcohol not helping anything. “I’m probably the last person you want to see…”

—

Seeing Caleb in the wild, as it were, was jarring. While Wyatt hadn't expected to be able to go forever without seeing him again, some part of him quietly wished for it. He was conflicted: the zombie’s actions not aligning with what Wyatt knew about him intimately, and the fact that he'd hurt someone Wyatt cared for? Sure, their relationship had been a little… snafu'd lately, but it didn't mean the shifter had stopped giving a shit. And while he'd long accepted that Caleb was done with him, it didn't make it any easier seeing him again. Everything came rushing back to the surface as Wyatt watched the zombie fumble while trying to backpedal: a more Caleb reaction than anything Wyatt had witnessed during their last night together.

His expression was stern as the other turned around to face him again, offering up a pretty pathetic greeting. What followed wasn't much better, even if it was accurate. Despite being the slightly shorter of the two, Wyatt’s presence remained the dominant one—another thing that had once been quite familiar, but now felt somehow… dirty. Wrong. Like the mere fact that he was in Caleb’s presence was a direct insult to Charlie. But… he had to know what the fuck had happened.

“Quite the opposite,” he lied, stepping closer. It was threatening, almost, not helped by the hand that found Caleb’s shoulder and gripped it tightly. “Need to talk to you.” He'd been on his way here to knock back a few much-needed glasses of hard liquor before heading into work, but Caleb could accompany him. Answer some questions. Explain what the hell his problem was. He was steered back inside without an opportunity for protest, Wyatt keeping a firm hand on him to forestall any attempts to bolt.

Bourbon in hand and a quiet, private corner of the bar located, Wyatt stared Caleb down. “You got about an hour to explain to me what the hell has been goin’ on with you, then I gotta go to work. If I'm not satisfied with the answer by then…” He let the sentence die on his tongue, not really knowing what he would do. Drag Caleb to the Pit with him? His ex didn't even know Wyatt fought for a living, the only thing he'd ever known about was the restaurant. At this point, Wyatt didn't care about keeping that a secret. Let the man see what he did on an almost nightly basis, let him see how truly capable he was of violence when the need arose.

Wyatt just shrugged instead, waiting for Caleb to speak.

—

He tried to back away when Wyatt advanced but there was no point. The hand that gripped his shoulder was just as strong as he remembered, stronger really as Wyatt had never been forceful with Caleb before. His body involuntarily flinched at the touch but he didn’t say a word when Wyatt turned him and started marching him back inside. He didn’t try to run, didn’t even think of trying to run, because he deserved this. He deserved whatever was coming.

But he didn’t get what he’d been expecting. Nobody had hit him yet. Nobody had threatened him. Nobody had screamed in his face. All he had been given was opportunity. Why were they all giving him opportunity instead of acting on the frustrations he knew he had caused? Why were they all acting like it wasn’t his own hands that had torn the flesh of others even if he didn’t want to? Caleb let the questions echo in his mind as Wyatt spoke but then he realized. Wyatt did think it was him controlling his own actions the whole time. He still thought that that day in his kitchen was Caleb’s choice, that stabbing Charlie was Caleb’s choice.

But he was still letting him explain.

“You still don’t know, do you?” It was a rhetorical question, the zombie swallowing the thick lump that had formed in his throat as too many emotions flooded through him. Relief because Wyatt was still giving him a chance despite what he thought. Confusion, hurt, and maybe a little anger because Wyatt thought he could be capable of such things. Despair because…he could be capable of such things. “I wasn’t exactly in control of my body.” All of those emotions mixed together and flooded out in those words, Caleb refusing to meet the other man’s eye while he picked at a spot on the table in front of him. “A demon was possessing me…using me. I couldn’t fight them off. I tried though. I really did. It’s hell being trapped inside your own mind wanting to do something about the damage you’re causing but not being able to.”

—

Don’t know what?! Wyatt wanted to shout, but he kept his trap shut and just let Caleb get it out first, which didn’t end up helping much in the end because it still didn’t make any fucking sense. “A demon.” He looked incredulous, and paused to take a sip of his drink. Fingers raised to pinch the bridge of his nose and he let out a long, exhausted sigh, anxious energy coursing through him and causing him to fidget on the spot. “You realize how fuckin’ stupid that sounds, right?” Looking around them, Wyatt seemed to be barely containing his anger as he addressed Caleb, sick to fucking death of all this cryptic shit everyone was on about. Just like his counterpart, he wasn’t even able to bring himself to look at Caleb, instead finding other things on the wall behind him to focus on.

“Man, I… I don’t know what to fuckin’ say. You blew me off, and… you hurt my friend. And now you’re tellin’ me you were possessed? What am I supposed to do with that?” He ran a hand through his hair, taking another gulp of the drink and silently begging it to help him calm the fuck down. His heart was racing in his chest and he felt dizzy. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. How could it be? Was Caleb about to tell him that heaven and hell existed, too? That God existed? It was stupid.

“I should just… if I was a better friend, I’d tell Charlie I know exactly who you are, and I know exactly where to find you, n’ let him do what he’s gonna do. Hell, maybe even help. But I—I fuckin’ liked you. And this shit was… was so not like you…” Now he finally looked at Caleb, and felt his throat constrict. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with any of this.”

—

That was the anger he was expecting. It was what he had wanted but as soon as the biting words hit him he could feel his own anger bubble to the surface. All of this was so confusing. He wanted to be punished for the atrocities the demon had committed but he also couldn’t believe that Wyatt had the audacity to be upset with him. The Charlie thing he got, that was the expected part, but he really had the nerve to say that Caleb was the one who blew him off? “Of course I know how fucking stupid it sounds, Wyatt.” He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his seat while he told himself to lower his voice. “Almost as stupid as a zombie and an alligator hooking up for months and said alligator not being able to tell when something is seriously wrong with the zombie. It’s like some cheesy Halloween rom com.” Except none of this was romantic. Neither of them were going to confess their love or easily forgive because it wasn’t a movie.

And now he was realizing that he’d bit back. Caleb shrunk in on himself, half expecting for Wyatt’s anger to multiply, half thinking that his fists would start to fly. He could feel the shame taking over and he closed his eyes to take in a few breaths. His anger always led to his punishment. “You should tell him. I think Charlie deserves to know.” And whatever came from that came. Anyone who was stabbed should be able to face their attacker whether that attacker was possessed or not.

Liked. That word stung. “Right…not like me at all. Because it wasn’t me. I can’t blame you for not knowing how to take this because I don’t even know how. I don’t know what to think or how to act around the people Aesil hurt. Everything is fucked. My life is fucked but maybe-…I think I deserve it.” He kept averting his gaze, not wanting to look at the man he thought could be something in his life now knowing that all of it was fucked. They really hadn’t known each other at all, had they? Could Caleb really blame him for not seeing the signs?

He looked at Wyatt now, really looked at him, and saw the deep purple under his eyes. They were worse than the memories he had of that day in his kitchen. Something was wrong back then and it was bothering him even more now. “Speaking of not being ourselves…what's wrong with you?” He gestured to his own eyes, trying to indicate why he was asking. Somehow he didn’t think Wyatt would appreciate his touch.

—

Wyatt scoffed, even though Caleb was right. “I knew somethin’ was off, Caleb. But why in the fuck would my mind immediately jump to ‘possessed’? That’s not—” He sucked in a sharp breath, dragging a hand over his face. That didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to argue the existence of fucking demons. “I just thought—maybe, if somethin’ had happened that had you actin’ the way you were, I thought…” That maybe you were more like me than I assumed. That maybe I didn’t have to hide so much of myself from you anymore. That maybe this had a chance of being something real. The words were strangled in his throat, eyelids fluttering as he looked away again.

Caleb was telling him he should tell Charlie, and all Wyatt could do was shake his head. “I can’t do that,” he breathed, sounding hopeless. If it was Caleb, if it wasn’t him, whatever the truth was… Wyatt had been more certain of his anger before seeing the man, but now all that righteous fury was dissolving in the acid wash of the other’s agonizingly plain regret. Caleb was saying he deserved to have his life ruined, and those words coiled around Wyatt’s throat like a boa constrictor. The Caleb he had known didn’t deserve any of this, plain and simple. And he sure as hell didn’t deserve someone who was happy, for however brief a moment in time, that he’d started acting more like a murderous lunatic.

In true Caleb fashion, the zombie was turning the conversation around and pointing it at Wyatt, who dug the heel of his palm into one eye in response, again refusing to make eye contact. “Not sleepin’,” he answered simply, not wanting to stray too far from the subject at hand.

—

“It didn’t need to jump to possessed. It just needed to be voiced.” Though that probably would have turned out bad. He could be mourning the man who was sitting across from him instead of arguing about who was to blame. That was a sobering thought, one that almost made him grateful that Wyatt didn’t think to question his actions. More confusion to add to his tornado of thoughts. Caleb sighed, the anger subsiding. What was done was done, there was no going back and he wasn’t innocent in anything. Besides, the way that the other was acting was concerning in itself. Despite it all he still wanted to know why Wyatt wouldn’t meet his own wavering gaze and what he was trying to tell Caleb. “You thought what?”

Why not? Why couldn’t he tell his friend who was responsible for almost killing him? Caleb didn’t have Wyatt’s loyalty anymore, didn’t deserve to have any loyalty over Charlie’s, so he couldn’t understand why the man wasn’t picking up his phone that very instant. “Fine, point me in his direction. I’ll tell him. Or just show up. I’m sure as soon as he sees my face he’ll come at me.” And Caleb would once again fight it. As much as he claimed he deserved what was coming to him he was still the coward he’d always been.

Something began to click. Wyatt’s response bringing back that moment when Aesil refused him and asked to lay down instead. There was something more to this but he obviously didn’t want to get into it which Caleb would…mostly respect. “Is that why you left that day? You didn’t want to sleep?”

—

“... there’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” Wyatt responded in a low voice. “I know you’re upset I didn’t recognize a change in you, but I… what I saw was someone who might’ve… someone who I could have been more honest with. I was bein’ selfish. The whole time we were… together, I was bein’ selfish. And I was lyin’ by omission.” He finished off the two fingers of bourbon, eyes fixed on the glass as he set back down slowly on the table. “No. He needs talkin’ down, first. You show up and he’s just gonna get himself hurt.”

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Wyatt looked around them as if the right answer that would get him out of talking about this could be plucked from the air itself. “Yeah. That’s why I left. Was on a real bender of tryin’ to stay awake. Quiet night in with the boyfriend didn’t really fit the bill.” Something about that phrasing made him feel self conscious and he started to fidget with his glass again before pulling out his phone to check the time. Chrissakes, it’d only been fifteen minutes. He didn’t even have the luxury of getting himself out of this conversation by saying he had to go, yet.

—

This time Caleb kept his stare directed at Wyatt, the realization of his words sinking deep and cutting him even deeper. “Why did you think you couldn’t be honest with me?” He couldn’t recall ever giving the impression that Wyatt could tell him anything he wouldn’t accept but he was sure the other had his reasons. Thinking back on everything Caleb did know about him, how he’d reacted when he’d found out, there was the possibility that judgment had slipped in. But he hadn’t cared, he still didn’t. He had no desire to force anything that Wyatt didn’t want to tell him. But he did want Wyatt to want to tell him. “It’s not like I’ve told you everything about myself. The things I’ve done…” The way his voice had sounded so haunted cut the thought short, Caleb suddenly wishing he had a drink sitting in front of him. His eyes flicked up, a flash of hurt behind them. “I wouldn’t…he would be safe.”

‘Quiet night in with the boyfriend didn’t really fit the bill.’ Out of everything Wyatt had said to him that night, that had hurt the most. For months Caleb hadn’t known what they were to each other and it turned out the zombie had lost more than he’d thought. There was a breath of sardonic laughter but he chose to focus on the other part of this, refusing to open that door. Not right now. “Any particular reason why you’re having trouble sleeping?” He watched his ex pick up the phone, feeling defeated yet relieved at the same time. This was just as uncomfortable for Wyatt as it was for him. “I’m not forcing you to stay, you know? My kidnapping days are over.”

—

Caleb made it sound like he had his own laundry list of Horrors, which Wyatt could have guessed existed based on the simple fact that he needed to eat human brains to survive, but… surviving was one thing, wasn't it? Wyatt was another class of predator, doing it for fun as much as he did it for food. The moment someone pissed him off, they were liable to be eaten, even if he wasn't hungry. How was he supposed to tell Caleb that? Of course he didn't know about the times that Caleb hadn't exactly been upset about the demon's actions—he couldn't know. He didn't even believe that the demon was real.

All he could do was shake his head, unwilling to accept that they could be anything alike, which meant that he'd fallen even farther than he thought. Farther than he'd needed to, far enough that he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his mother would hate him. It's why he never included his return address on the envelopes of money he sent to her. Which he hadn't been able to send in a couple months… he hoped it wouldn't inspire her to come looking for him. Anyway. His thoughts were getting off topic.

To the comment about Charlie, which of course he'd made sound worse than he'd meant— “Got nothin’ to do with what you would or wouldn't do. Captain Wow is plenty good at causin’ harm to himself, especially when he's pissed.” He put the phone back in his jacket pocket, throwing a wistful glance toward the bar. “Still… I don't.. I don't wanna end this until I know what the fuck needs to happen.” Caleb had already offered a suggestion. “That doesn't involve you showin’ up at his house.” Another sigh. He was fully ignoring the questions about his sleep issues, “When you… when you say demon, you don't mean literally, right? Like–what was it really? Some kind of supernatural critter?”

—

He could see Wyatt lost in thought, the zombie keeping his mouth shut to let the man work out whatever he needed at that moment. It wasn’t his place to push, not during this conversation at least. The least Caleb could do was allow him to work through it all. The comment about Charlie had him nodding and Caleb almost wanted to smile because he knew exactly what Wyatt was talking about. But he refrained, thinking a smile would make this so much worse than it already was. He couldn’t resist the words though. “I believe that…he didn’t exactly scream self preservation when he met me that night.” The man’s anger had taken over, drawn him closer to Aesil, and Caleb’s eyes glossed over a little as the images came to mind. He hated sharing these memories. He almost thought it would have been better had he been left completely in the dark.

He sighed softly as Wyatt skipped over his question entirely though he should have expected that he would be less than forthcoming. This wasn’t a reconnection, it was a confrontation. Tapping a finger on the table in front of him, he shook his head gently while he closed his eyes at the question. “Can you think of a moment when I’ve ever lied to you? Excluding when I saw you last.”

Technically he hadn’t brought up being a zombie when they first met but who would have come right out and said that? As soon as the secrets were out Caleb had not once said anything untruthful to him. “It was a demon, Wyatt. A demon intent on raising an even greater demon. They were tracking ingredients down for a ritual to bring along Andras, who apparently wants to destroy the human race. Charlie stumbled upon Aesil killing someone for one of those ingredients and he got caught up in it all.” Thankfully Charlie had survived much to Aesil’s disgust. “Luckily, as they were performing this ritual, a…friend of mine brought in an exorcist and a priest.” It sounded like it was straight from a movie plot. “If you don’t believe me I can point you in the direction of who was there that night…including the guy who almost bled to death as a sacrifice.”

—

Caleb was right. He hadn’t ever lied to Wyatt, once their shit was out in the open. And as for the secrets that were being hinted at, well… they both had those. He couldn’t judge Caleb for keeping them, if he was giving himself the forgiveness to have kept his own. So besides all that, Caleb had always been honest with him, in his way. But more than that was the slow realization that whatever this had been that had altered Caleb’s behavior, something he was calling a demon, it… it wasn’t his fault. And hadn’t Wyatt experienced something similar recently? He’d had an episode of panic, of rageful fear, during which he was no longer present in his own mind. He’d killed his friend. The same thing that kept him up at night right now was the bridge between their shared experiences. His wasn’t a demon, it wasn’t something piggybacking on his grief, but it came from within. Wasn’t that worse? This hadn’t been Caleb at all, if his story was to be believed.

Wyatt suddenly felt very upset. “... I know. You… you wouldn’t lie to me,” he stammered, feeling his throat constrict. He wasn’t sure what exactly was causing this reaction: it could have been empathy, self-pity, hopelessness, fear for the other’s well-being… or any combination of the above. “I believe you.” He still didn’t understand the ‘demon’ of it all, but he was willing to accept that Caleb wasn’t lying. He had to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he’d be fucking devastated if anyone labeled him as a monster for killing his friend when he wasn’t in control of himself. If you want that grace for yourself, you have to give it to others, he could hear his mother saying. It was a lesson she’d spent years drilling into him, and he’d nearly forgotten it in the last few months.

“I’ll… talk to him. I’ll make him understand. You shouldn’t be payin’ for what happened to you, you’ve… you’ve paid enough already.” He looked grief-stricken, unsure of what to do next. “I’m sorry.” The only thing he could think to do was what he would have wanted, were he in Caleb’s position. It was all he’d wanted after he’d woken up in that cage, and being denied it had made the pain indescribably worse. It might not be what Caleb wanted, but he’d find that out the hard way.

Wyatt got up, standing at the end of the table and motioning for Caleb to do the same. When the other joined him there, probably confused about what was going to happen, Wyatt pulled him into a tight, familiar hug. “There more people that need convincin’? I can be pretty persuasive,” he offered, signing himself up to act as a diplomat on Caleb’s behalf. His methods might be questionable sometimes, but he’d do his best to not get the man into any more trouble.

—

It seemed that something Caleb had said had finally gotten through to the other man but the zombie hadn’t quite expected him to look so…broken. If it wasn’t clear that something else was going on with him before it certainly was now as he took in the catch in Wyatt’s words and the way he deflated with the loss of his fight. That aggression towards Caleb, had it been keeping him afloat through this whole thing? Relief should have flooded him when Wyatt finally stated that he believed but it was anything but that took over everything inside of him. Where Caleb should have been grateful that someone he cared for was willing to see the truth he only felt dejected. It wasn’t a truth he liked to share with anyone but a puzzle piece was a puzzle piece. It wouldn’t have been fair to anyone involved to leave that missing part of it out.

Still, worry for Wyatt was starting to become his focal point. He wanted so badly to reach out and take the other’s hand in his, to let him know that he still cared about him, but he felt that would have been pushing things too quickly. Caleb had just gotten acceptance back, there was no need to rush to affection. “Thank you.” He couldn’t even be sure if Wyatt had heard him over the noise of the bar but the words hung there between them where they belonged.

“You don’t- you shouldn’t do that. This is my mess, I need to clean it up.” Though it did feel good to have the offer, he felt he hadn’t paid enough. The zombie should be paying in his blood but instead people were getting frightened, hurried words, apologies laced with excuses which made them feel like they weren’t apologies at all. There was so, so much to clean up, so much that Caleb had been avoiding. It almost felt surreal that this one thing had been talked through, surreal to have some sort of resolution here in the darkness of it all.

He looked up at Wyatt, confusion flooding him as the man gestured for him to get out of his seat as well. Maybe it wasn’t resolved after all? He obeyed though, feeling that whatever was coming was just what would come. Arms wrapping around him was the last thing he’d expected. His body flinched involuntarily, Caleb no longer used to someone else’s touch. He hadn’t let anyone close enough to him. For a moment he just stood there with his arms by his side, holding a breath of air in for far too long, but after his brain had caught up with what was going on his arms wrapped around Wyatt in a loose embrace. There was something about the way that Wyatt was holding him though and somewhere deep down Caleb felt like the lamia needed this just as much as he had. “It’s okay.” His arms tightened around him, the zombie not sure whether he was answering Wyatt or trying to ease whatever troubles were plaguing the gator. “Like I said,” He pulled away as he continued. “It’s my mess, you know?”

—

It’s said that a twenty second hug releases enough oxytocin to help a person destress and promotes a more positive attitude. This was a random fact that Wyatt had overheard someone talking about in a cafe once, and thought about often. Twenty second hug, six second kiss. Well, he couldn’t exactly go for the latter, but the former was already well underway as he remembered this little fun fact and wondered how many seconds he’d been hugging Caleb for already. Didn’t feel like a lot. Maybe five. Six. Seven—

He couldn’t make it. Pulling back at the same time Caleb did, the fighter felt like he was hanging on by a thread. All the good things in his life dangled from strings, and this was one of them. This moment, this opportunity to share and understand and maybe (hopefully) find acceptance. “Can we… go back outside?” he asked, much more soft spoken than Caleb had likely ever heard him. He’d not opened a tab and had already paid for his drink, so no one would be chasing them down. When the zombie agreed, Wyatt led them back through the door to the street, turning sharply onto the next street where there was less foot traffic.

“It’s not your mess,” he argued once they were well enough alone, wheeling around to face Caleb again. “It’s… it’s that thing’s mess. You don’t gotta do this alone, Caleb. You don’t. I want to help, I want to be—” Useful. Worth someone’s time. “ —able to make up for my mistakes. I fucked you over, I know I did. I was shitty. I was… near the end, I wasn’t really…” He dragged a hand over his face, shaking his head and glancing up toward the sky. “I wanna be honest with you. I want you to know who… who I really am. And if you can’t deal with that guy, that’s fine. But that’s your choice.” Huffing out a breath, he finally looked back to the man. “For starters, I lost my job at the restaurant on account of the sleep shit. But that’s—that was never my only job.” He bit his lip. “I been moonlightin’ as a fighter. Supernatural fights, mind. Against other shifters, undead, beasts… whatever they can shove in the ring, really. But it’s not just that, Caleb. I’m… I like it.” Or he had. Some part of him still did. “But I fucked up recently, got in trouble with the boss… they been workin’ me like hell. S’why I look like such shit.” There was another pause. “Also I lied to you. I told you I didn’t make a habit of eatin’ my neighbors, but I fuckin’ have been, man. I’ve been terrorizin’ people in this town, usually just cuz they said some stupid shit that pissed me off. I’ve never had a great handle on my temper but it’s bad these days. I ain’t been a very good person for a while now.” He was rambling. He was saying so, so much and not giving Caleb any time to respond. So he shut up, folding his arms defensively across his chest, ready to… he didn’t know. Get torn a new one? Somehow that didn’t strike him as the kind of thing Caleb would do, but he might look at Wyatt with disappointment, and honestly? That would suck a lot more than anger.

—

He stopped short when Wyatt turned to face him again once they were in a more secluded area, Caleb swallowing back that tiny part of him that wanted to be afraid of the sudden movement. He didn’t fear the other, far from it if the slight tug of longing was any indication, but his body reacted on instinct. Years of it told him not to let Wyatt close when he was in such a state, learned behavior kicking in, but the man’s words seemed to ease the tension in his body enough for him to not back away.

God, he felt like an idiot as his eyes started to water. ‘You don’t gotta do this alone, Caleb.’ A heaviness in his chest started to lighten, some of the guilt from everything he…Aesil…he had done started to ebb just enough to consider taking Wyatt up on the offer of his help only to crash back into him as the other started to put himself down. Caleb had argued that the lamia had been in the wrong and, maybe he had been, but he was at fault too in his own ways. “It wasn’t like I was perfect.” He mumbled, not sure if Wyatt even heard him through the distress taking over. Instead of backing away like instinct was once again telling him to do, he wanted to reach out and press a comforting hand to Wyatt’s cheek, maybe try to bring him back from whatever was going on in his mind. He resisted.

The onslaught of truths took him by surprise. It wasn’t even the confessions that had shocked him but the fact that Wyatt was giving them to him so freely. Okay, maybe the confessions did shock him a little. There was so much going on that he hadn’t been aware of and he wondered how long the lamia had been going through all of this, if he had missed the signs himself. Fuck, he was a hypocrite, wasn’t he?

If it was anyone else telling him this Caleb would have been recoiling. He would have made an excuse to leave and try to never see Wyatt again because the fear would drive him to stay away. But it wasn’t anyone else. The zombie knew this man intimately, maybe not as well as he’d thought, but well enough. He could focus on the way that Wyatt liked his fighting or the way he terrorized people for petty reasons but instead he kept thinking of the way the man would go out of his way to make Caleb feel as confident as possible. It was nights like their first date that kept popping into his mind, days fighting deranged snowmen together, and that night in the cemetery when Wyatt could have left everyone else to fight that crystal monster but helped instead. He might not see the good in himself, but Caleb could see it.

His lips curled up into a soft smile and he finally just told himself ‘fuck it.’ He moved towards Wyatt, placing his hand exactly where he wanted to before, his thumb brushing over the dark purple under his eyes. “Liking things you shouldn’t…you’re not alone in that. I think we’re both more messed up than the other realized, honestly.” He let out a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t think you’re a bad person even with everything you just told me, at least not completely. And if you are, I don't really care. I still care about you. I don’t have to agree with everything you do to feel that way.”

—

Where he’d anticipated anger or disappointment or fear, there was only compassion. Suddenly the contrast between their differing heights and personalities felt correct rather than almost comical: the shorter of them always having been the larger presence in the past, dominant in every way he thought mattered. But now, chin lifted ever so slightly up to meet Caleb’s gaze, Wyatt felt smaller. He couldn’t quite articulate what he was feeling as Caleb’s hand found his face, heavy eyelids fluttering at the contact, his body feeling weak. Was it a reaction to having poured himself out on the pavement? Was it just the sleep deprivation? The reason didn’t really matter, did it? It didn’t matter.

Wyatt let out a soft sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, grasping Caleb’s wrist gently with one hand, the other brushing across his neck before settling on his shoulder. Finding the right words was hard, so at first he just nodded and let the closeness of their bodies speak for itself. Something he was certain he’d lost had come back to him, had found him at one of his lowest points, and was telling him it was okay. That he was still cared for, that the bad things… could be overlooked. Maybe only because Caleb had his own laundry list of regrets that could label him as a bad person, but what else was there? What else did people like them have if not each other? It wasn’t picture perfect, but life so rarely was… even the situation Wyatt found himself in now was far from it—he was letting himself be doted on by a couple, inserting himself into what they had and bringing with him a mess of baggage that one of them wasn’t even aware of yet. It wasn’t right, but he never did things right, did he?

There wasn’t much thought given to the future, the shifter much more interested in simply remaining in this moment. “Yeah… think we might both be kinda fucked up,” he agreed. “What you went through… whatever happened, whatever you’re carryin’ with you like a weight… I don’t care about it, either.” His gaze searched Caleb’s face, cautious optimism flickering in his eyes like a hopeful flame that’d nearly been completely snuffed out. “I just care ‘bout you.” He sucked in a breath, that flame dimming again. “And I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” For many things that probably didn’t need to be listed out like a confessional, but he hoped Caleb could ascribe this apology to them all. Because he meant it, deeply and in a way that hurt and healed at the same time. “I shoulda been there. I’m sorry.”

—

Without thinking, Caleb’s free hand went up to hold Wyatt’s as it rested on his shoulder. He didn’t want to speak and break whatever the man’s thought process was at that moment, he just wanted to allow Wyatt the time that he needed. So, he stayed silent until the other finally spoke, his lips lifting at the corners with a nod of his head at the confirmation. The rest of the lamia’s words seemed to drown out everything that had been going through his mind for the past couple of weeks. He felt lighter again, as if the only thing that mattered was Wyatt’s approval and everything else could fall to the wayside for now as long as he had that.

Still, his mind wanted to doubt those words. It was telling him to toss them away and never believe that anyone could know the atrocious acts his hands had committed and still care about him. For once, though, he decided to fight against it and accept what Wyatt was telling him. He needed to accept it as truth or the battle to move on from Aesil would be so much harder. It would be hard to admit the actions out loud but Wyatt had given Caleb a rare glimpse into his own misdeeds so the zombie figured he needed to do the same and see how it went in the end. For right now though, he was more than willing to focus on the other man and the feelings that were causing him so much turmoil. His own confessions would come later if they were willing to stay in each other's lives.

Giving a soft shake of his head at Wyatt’s apologies, Caleb dared to move even closer to press his forehead against the lamias. “I should have been there too.” It was so obvious that he had been missing so much in this man’s life now. It should have been obvious before but with his issues of feeling inadequate and like he was a bother it always held him back from further questioning the ones he cared about. “I shouldn’t have even said what I said, you had no way of knowing. I was just…angry and hurt. Not even because of you. But I should have been there too.” His eyes closed, feeling a new regret starting to sink in to mix with everything else. “It doesn’t matter now, we can be there from now on. In whatever way you need.”

—

Of course he was angry and hurt. Without knowing Wyatt’s situation, anyone would have been. The fighter wanted to say it was okay, that it didn’t matter and that Caleb wasn’t wrong for it, but there wasn’t any time before the zombie was falling back into his personal space in a way that he hadn’t for months now. It calmed the storm that was brewing in his head and chest, soothed the anxiety that had bloomed rapidly as he’d bared himself to the man in ways that still made him deeply uncomfortable. He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes and releasing Caleb’s wrist to instead circle that arm around his waist. “I’d like that,” he admitted in a strained voice, but a smile still managed to form in spite of the ache. “I’d like that a lot.” There were still things they needed to talk about… aspects of his life he needed to make clear. The nightmares, and how he’d found out why they were happening. Mateo, the source of that knowledge, and a source of comfort in his darker moments. Xóchitl, wrapped up between them and just as complicated as everything else in his life… Kieran, who was… well, he didn’t know what. Not really a friend, not really a lover. A provider of the happiness that had been slowly slipping away from him little by little. All these things needed to be talked about, because he had to tell someone the whole truth, didn’t he? Not one single person in his life knew everything he was going through, but maybe if he could share it all with Caleb, then Caleb could share it all with him. They could be there for each other, like the zombie had said. They could. They would.

He didn’t open his eyes again as his head was angled slightly up, relinquishing the contact of their foreheads in favor of their lips. It was gentle, but not hesitant. Careful without being cautious. Loving, one could say. One could, but one would be hard pressed to use such language in a moment as pivotal as this. Better not to weigh themselves down with that baggage, not before they’d had the chance to really talk. Because there was still the matter of getting to work to consider — a thought that popped into Wyatt’s head and had him groaning softly against the other’s mouth. Just… a few more seconds. Four… five… six.

“Fuck… I probably gotta get goin’...” he lamented, much preferring the idea of spending the rest of the night in this familiar embrace. He pulled back, looking at Caleb for a moment before offering another genuine smile. “Sorry, cher… I do want to pick this back up again, though… soon as we can…”

—

He wanted to say something else, to make promises that he vowed to keep, to let Wyatt know that he wasn’t going to be alone in any of this anymore but before he could he felt the other’s lips press against his own. Caleb’s heart seized with that simple gesture. After everything he’d done, after the way this conversation had started, forgiveness from the lamia had been in the far reaches of his desires. He’d believed it unattainable but now the man was kissing him in the middle of a secluded alley after he’d spilled the most intimate things about his life to Caleb leaving an ache in the zombie’s chest. He’d sought the punishment he thought he deserved but he was now getting the exact opposite, the guilt doubling with every second he allowed himself to savor the moment. It wasn’t enough to make him want to stop, though.

He almost allowed himself to follow the man’s lips with his own as Wyatt pulled away, not wanting to lose that closeness. But Caleb resisted his wants once again, this time allowing that familiar emptiness to spread. That felt normal. It felt right. The guilt started to ebb, not completely gone but dulled as that feeling took its place and he realized he shouldn’t have allowed that kiss to happen. Aesil wasn’t completely gone, they were still out in whatever void they came from, so there was no guarantee that anyone close to him was completely safe…right?

Wyatt’s voice cut through his racing thoughts, eyes opening as Caleb softly nodded his head. “Work, right?” Suddenly, something else entirely started to grip him. He’d been so worried about what being close to him would do to Wyatt that he’d forgotten the danger that Wyatt was getting himself into. He wasn’t going to try to stop him as much as he would rather the man stay away from the fighting but he did want it known that he cared. “....I just got you back in my life. Please be careful so that we can pick this back up soon.” He left it at that as he lightly kissed the other once more and then stepped away, hands going back to his pockets. “I really will call you this time.” Not wanting to keep him from work, especially knowing that they were already upset with him, his gaze lingered for only a moment before he turned and made his way back to his truck.

#. thread ;#. with ; caleb ellsworth #. six seconds ;

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specialagentlokitty · 10 months

Text

Castle x reader - just hold you

Sitting on the wooden fence, you held the apple in your hand as you watched the horse across the field staring at you.

“Well?” You called.

Slowly he began to walk over, and you smiled to yourself.

“Yeah, you stubborn horse, I know you can’t say no to apples.”

The horse stopped just in front of you, letting out a huff of air and you smiled.

“Well Rocky?”

He hooved the ground a little bit, but fully walked over, taking the apple gently from your hand to eat it and you rubbed the top of his head.

“Good job buddy.”

Hearing a car door close, you turned around, jumping down from the fence, walking over with a smile.

“Sheriff Blakk, hey.”

“Hey kiddo, this that woman you were telling me about?” He asked.

You looked at Beckett and smiled, walking over to give her a hug.

“Yeah it is, I hope you don’t mind but she’s really good at her job.”

“I don’t mind the help, I could do with it to be honest.”

You nodded your head.

“I’ll fill her in on the case, just make sure that moron don’t get booted by Rocky.”

The sheriff laughed and walked over to Castle who was approaching the horse in the field while you began to tell Beckett about why you had called over out here.

Castle reached his hand out.

“I wouldn’t.” The sheriff said.

Castle pulled his hand away, turning to the man.

“Why not? He looks friendly enough.”

“Rocky? Not a chance, that horse put three of my men in hospital just trynna round him up. Got a temper and a hate for humans.”

“Seriously?”

Castle slowly backed away.

Rocky watched castle, slowly walking up and down the fence.

“Don’t stare at him, he’ll clear that fence and trust me you don’t wanna be stood near him.”

“Okay…”

Castle turned back to you, and he grinned a little to himself, walking over.

“Didn’t put you down as cowboy type.” Castle said.

“Just cause I’m helping at my parents ranch that don’t make me a cowboy castle but thanks.” You laughed.

He grinned even more and Beckett pointed at him.

“No.” She scolded.

He pouted a little.

“Are you helping on the case?” He asked.

“Nah, I’m still on holiday so not a chance castle, but you and Beckett are more than welcome to stay here, my parents have some rooms available.”

“That’ll be a huge help thanks (Y/N).” Beckett smiled.

You grinned a little.

“No problem guys, make yourself at home. I need to go but I’ll be around, I’d not Sheriff Blakk or my parents can find me.”

“Wait can I stay?” Castle asked.

“You got work to do Castle.” You said.

With that, you waved at them and jogged away back towards the house.

Because of their case and you working on the ranch, they didn’t often see much of you, you were up before them and you came home after them.

Your parents were more than accommodating to them though, making sure they were well rested and well fed.

“Gotta admit it is a nice break.” Beckett said.

“Oh yeah, outside city life and everything, nobody recognises me out here.” Castle said.

“It’s a hard working country time castle, I doubt they have time to read your silly crime drama.”

“Ouch.”

Beckett grinned a little, resting her arms on the railing in front of her.

“What’re we waiting for anyway?” He asked.

“The Sheriff said they’re bringing a suspect in, wants us to handle the interrogation.”

Castle slowly nodded.

“So… the horse coming down the road?” He asked.

Beckett furrowed her brows and turned down the road where there was a horse coming closer and closer.

“Oh my god it’s that horse I was telling you about!” Castle whispered.

“The one you were told was aggressive?”

“Yeah!”

Castle hid behind Beckett.

“That thing was massive, I wouldn’t mistake it for anything else..” he whispered.

“Well why the hell are you handing behind me?!”

“I don’t know you have a gun!”

They watched as the horse came over, and they saw somebody sat on his back.

“Oh my god is that (Y/N)?” Beckett asked.

You gently pulled Rocky to a stop, gently patting the side of his neck.

“Atta boy, wait here.”

You swung your legs over and dropped done to the floor, walking over to the front of the police station.

“Hey guys, what’s up?”

“He’s yours?” Castle asked.

“Who Rocky? Yeah, trained him myself. I wouldn’t go near him though.”

You grinned, jogging inside and they carried on talking outside.

Neither of them paid much attention as other people came over on horses, not until you came rushing outside pointing to one of them.

“You lost your damn horses?” You asked.

“How the hell do you loose more than one horse?” Castle asked.

“I broke the lock to the field, please you gotta help me, my wife is gonna kill me if I don’t get em back.”

You laughed a little, pointing behind him.

“I think I know where they went.”

“Shit man, help me!”

They all ran back to their horses or trucks, however they got there and you laughed, grinning and Beckett and castle.

“So much for a holiday, later guys!”

Running over to Rocky who was laid down, you climbed on his back and he stood up, running after all the other horses.

Castle just watched in awe as you raced away, stood up, feet in the stirrups, catching a rope that was thrown at you.

“So cool…” he whispered.

“Castle do you have a little crush on (Y/N)?”

“Come on Beckett! That was so cool! They’re so cool!”

Beckett laughed a little, shaking her head as she walked back inside.

When it was time to go back he decided to stay, and he began to follow you around, seeing what it was like to really live and work on a ranch.

He was watching you throw some bales of hay down from a massive stack and he gestured to it.

“Can I help?”

“Dressed like that? Not a chance.”

“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed? I thought you liked how I dress?”

You laughed a little.

“I do, but for this kinda work it ain’t practical Castle, it can get dirty it rip.”

“I can get more.”

You shrugged, jumping down and holding your hand out to him.

“Come on then.”

Castle climbed back up with you, and you showed him what to do.

“First, roll your sleeves up, trust me you don’t want them getting stuck.”

“Right.”

He rolled up his sleeves and gripped the bale of hay like you did, and you tossed it down by the truck.

“Aren’t you supposed to throw it in?” He asked.

“If I wanna break the truck yeah, but one of the guys will sort it in a minute to take it out.”

“Can we stand on truck beds?!”

“You get hurt I ain’t taking responsibility.”

“Deal!” He grinned.

Castle loved doing ranch work, it was like a game for him, even if it was more hard work than he was used too.

You taught him what to do and then he’d do it, it was a good system.

Up until it came to taking a ride and he couldn’t figure out how to put a saddle on the horse.

“Castle, seriously? How have you put it on upside down?”

“I don’t know! I swear it was the right way!”

Laughing softly, you walked over to him, standing on the stool next to him.

“Just loosen the straps and turn it, like this.”

You showed him what to do.

“Then tighten them again and you’re all set.”

“So can I get on now?”

“Go for it.”

You jumped down, letting castle get on the horse, and the moment he was on his was in the floor.

Hands flying to your mouth you rushed over to him, crouching down in front of him.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, actually helped with my back pain.”

You laughed a little and he grinned.

You helped him sit up and you called for your horse who came over, standing behind you and castle stared up in slight fear.

“If you wanna go for a ride, I think we should just go on Rocky, that way I can make sure you don’t get thrown off again.”

You stood up, patting Rocky on the nose and he lowered himself down for you.

Climbing on, you gestured for castle to come over.

“He won’t eat me will he?”

“Relax he’s fine if you’re with me.”

Castle cautiously walked over, and he slowly got on the horse behind you, tightly wrapping his arms around you as Rocky stood up.

“I feel like a giant..” he whispered.

You laughed a little, shaking your head as you placed a hand on his arm.

“Just don’t panic and keep holding on to me.”

Castle grinned a little.

Of course Castle did actually know how to ride a horse, he just wanted an excuse to sit with his arms around you and this was as good as any.

He rested his chin on your head and you smiled a little bit patting his hand a few times, resting your back against his chest

#castle #castle x reader #castle x you #castle imagine #Richard castle #Richard castle x reader #Richard castle x you #Richard castle imagine

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ourflagmeanswaystar · 5 months

Text

jump into the heat

buck/eddie | rated: T | ~25k | WIP, done by Thursday

summary: post-705 spec fic. following yet another doomed day intended to be full of joy for the 118, buck and eddie try to figure out their lives, themselves, and each other. a bachelor party, a decision, a move, an awakening, a realization, an acceptance, and a happy ending

“It was just under 80s songs and– and the lady said it’d be good for us and not too hard to sing!”

“Uh, ‘sing’ is a strong word,” Hen mumbles.

“You think you can do better?” Eddie teases.

Everyone turns to look at Hen expectantly, who just giggles to herself. “Yeah get at least one more drink in me and I’ll consider it.”

Calling her bluff, Buck gets up and heads to the bar to order a refill for everyone, because why not? The vibes all night have been good, including the harmless teasing of Buck and Eddie that resulted in them getting up on that stage in the first place.

But as woman of honor, or best woman, or whatever title Hen had landed on in the end, it was absolutely her turn to embarrass herself a bit.

Stepping up to the crowded bar, Buck sees the worker who was setting up karaoke before is back tending the bar.

“Hey! Crockett!” she exclaims, moving towards him.

“Actually, I think I might be Tubbs. Not sure though. Not gonna lie– wasn’t my idea,” Buck chuckles.

“Cute idea, regardless though.” She looks him up and down, hands on her hips. “Nice execution too, I’ve gotta say.”

Previously, he might have seen potential here. To flirt, or more. And his confidence and security in himself grows by recognizing he could still be attracted to her, and other women. But the part of his brain responsible for romance or whatever is occupied with his date for tomorrow, thinking about introducing Tommy to everyone in this new capacity, dancing with him, etc.

That is to say, he’s kind of caught off guard by what seems like light flirting from someone else.

Until the bartender says, “Was it your partner’s idea? Adorable. Been together long?”

Then Buck is really caught off guard.

“Uh… what?” he so eloquently asks, leaning further against the bar and clenching his hands on the edge.

His ears ringing means he misses the details of whatever she says next, something about how they sang to each other and something else about Miami and iconic queercoding, or something.

He realizes this is the first time he and Eddie have been misconstrued as a couple since he actually could date dudes and it wasn’t some preposterous assumption.

It’s by no means the first time overall though, and probably not the last, and he catches her tilting her head, looking concerned at his lack of a response. The last thing he wants is to be refused service because he got flustered for no good reason and seemed too drunk. So he rights himself and rallies.

“Sorry, yeah my friend Eddie– he chose the outfits. Anyway, that reminds me, I was sent to order all of us more drinks, so uh…” Buck trails off.

She slowly nods, catching on and gives him an apologetic smile. “Sure. Same as you had before? I can check the bachelor party tab and bring those out to y’all.”

The crowd around the bar has only grown and it makes sense she’s trying to get out of this now awkward situation as quickly as possible. Buck nods and slowly backs away to let her do her job.

He’s still trying to shake the interaction as he looks down at his hands fidgeting together and walks back in the direction of his friends. His first thought is to feel like a jerk for assuming the bartender was flirting with him when in reality she had assumed he was… well whatever she had assumed. His second thought is: what exactly did he feel… almost shameful about her assuming?

After his slip to Maddie about dating Tommy, Buck made the active decision to… announce this information when the time felt right with Eddie. And whenever the time felt right with other important people in his life, he was more than ready to… announce to them too. Somebody ashamed of themselves wouldn’t announce it like that, would they?

But. What is the announcement in question? Hey I kissed someone once and hung out with them twice and I like them, isn’t something he felt the need to announce to his friends so hugely before when it was with women. Obviously it looks a little different, but it’s not like he changed as a person.

And yet, how is he able to reconcile not having changed, but suddenly feeling as though he’s newly lying by hiding a huge part of himself?

ao3

#i did the thing #buddie #911 on abc #buddie fic #911 fanfic #buddie wip #will all be posted by thursday #probably about 25k words #7 chapters #light angst #getting together #angst with a happy ending

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thought-42 · 6 months

Text

Somebody has to leave first

Star Wars, 1400 words,Ezra Bridger Something something growing up something something ded parent something something Ezra Bridger in the Chiss Ascendancy. I've never heard of canon in my life.

Ezra Bridger talks to dead people.

They do not, it should be noted, talk back.

He knows all things are possible within the Force, so he's always gotta keep in mind that his monologues run the very real risk of becoming dialogues, probably at the most embarrassing or inconvenient times, but honestly if a ghost has nothing better to do than listen in on his diary entries to the beyond that says more about them than it does about him.

He doesn't talk to Kanan. It seems like the obvious assumption, follow in the shuffling footsteps of Obi-Wan Kenobi and claw out frantically for a point of stability to serve as compass in a world gone upside down. And there was a time where a smile or a few words of pride from Kanan was all Ezra needed to reinforce his foundations and stand tall and ready. But the truth of it is, he doesn't know if Kanan would be proud of him, which would be less of a problem if Ezra himself had any uncertainty about his life choices.

Besides, even ten years on every time he thinks about that last glimpse of Kanan, wreathed in flames, he wants to dig his fingers into his skin and deeper and pull and pull until the memory and the sick feeling in his stomach are gone. He cannot think about it. It is an impossibility, it is not something his mind is capable of bearing, the idea of another living person who he loves burning and burning and burning is not something that can live inside of him sustainably. He thinks of Kanan and he feels sick and sad and selfish for not being able to focus on all the good memories.

No, Ezra doesn't talk to Kanan. Ezra talks to people he has only ever known in death.

He talks to Master Mace Windu and tells him he wishes he knew how to see shatterpoints. Ezra is good at building connections, building bridges, yeah yeah yeah, but every web has one thread at risk, one point where a quick pull will unravel the whole thing. Ezra's had his entire life shattered twice before with no warning, he would really love to know how to prevent the inevitable third round. . Shouldn't this skill just come free with the lineage?

He talks to Thrass-- "can I call you Thrass?" Everybody says Thrawn needed a brother, and yeah, ok, his older brother died and Thrawn went off the rails there for a hot eighteen years, but Ezra's here now, reporting for little brother duty twenty years late with caccoleaf; but better late than never, right? It feels right, picking up Thrass's flag in the relay of Sky Walker investigation and running hard and fast with it as far as he can go. Feels kinda like when Zeb would start a repair project on the Ghost and then leave the second half for Ezra to finish off with no need for explanation or request, just the trust that Ezra knows what to do. ...Thrawn kinda feels like one of those handed off projects, too, but Ezra doesn't even say that part to the dead, just in case they really are listening and decide to tell on him. Ezra never had an older sibling by blood, but they seem to adopt him everywhere he goes. He figures it's his turn to adopt one back, even if it is posthumous.

He talks to Master Depa, because, as his grandmaster, she's legally required to think he's doing a great job. He talks to her about being a teacher on a warship, asks how she delt with knowing every time she ruffled Caleb's hair over breakfast it could be the last.

He tells her every time he wonders if he permanently stained his soul with the dark he remembers that she came back as strong a Jedi as anybody could ask, and it really does make him trust in himself.

He thanks her for raising Caleb, although would it have killed her to teach him just a biiiit of Vaapad?

He tells her he understands, fundamentally, like a burning cole lodged in his ribcage, her desperate need to protect her student, to die so that he could live.

He tells her she would be proud of the man Caleb became, but that it probably wasn't what she expected. Caleb didn't grow up into Caleb. Caleb grew up into Kanan, and secretly Ezra always wonders if Kanan would have been someone who would have fit back in with the Jedi of his childhood.

Ezra's cabinet of entirely metaphorical ghosts all roll their eyes at this transparent attempt at obfuscation, because all the ghosts Ezra has made up to talk to are assholes.

Ok, fine. So maybe Ezra's pretty sure that the found family who gave Ezra Bridger, Jedi Padawan a home might not know what to do with Stybla'ezra'bridger, Jedi Navigator.

It had taken Ezra and sacher actual months, long nights of sitting at Ezra's kitchen table with big sheets of paper and cheap wine, tossing potential names for their brand new program back and forth. They settled on Jedi Navigator mostly because Thrawn told them they had three days before the official paperwork had to be filed, and they hadn't come up with anything better that they could both agree on. Ezra hit submit on his part of the project proposal and that night he'd laid awake imagining a scenario where he got to tell Hera and Kanan-- "See? Jedi Navigator. Something from each of you."

He's heard the war is over. The Rebellion won and turned right back around to build another Republic. He's heard there's another Jedi --not Kanan, miraculously returned like Ezra dreams at least once a month-- and he's going to start a new order. And he's tried to imagine himself somewhere in all of that and it doesn't fit. He fit on a bunk bed in the Ghost with his family around him, doing their part to beat back the constant press of fascism. But there's no more Empire, no more family all squished together in one little ship. Even if he wanted to climb back into that bunk he knows his head would bump the top now.

The space between eighteen and twenty-eight feels like a lifetime. At eighteen Ezra had just gotten all his clay together and ready to be moulded into a person, and then he'd flung himself half way across the galaxy and wound up being moulded and fired in a different kilmn entirely. There's an Ezra somewhere out there who grew and changed right alongside that cramped little family, who moved forward in their orbit, chose his path and his place on the same game board. He probably knows how to fit in. He's probably working at the Jedi school or part of the reconstruction efforts on Lothal or a commander on a Republic ship stamping out the last remnants of the Empire.

Ezra's not jealous of this other version of himself, this what-if world he built in his own imagination specifically to hurt himself. He expected to be struck by the longing for home, by the bitterness of lost possibility. He isn't.

He can't tell Thrawn this because Thrawn spent eighteen years becoming something monstrous, shredding himself and everyone around him in an increasingly desperate dancing of 'I can fix this I can fix this I can fix this' and when he’d come back the hole his departure had left had long since healed over.

He can't tell Kanan this because--- the force of the explosion, maybe, was enough to make it quick--

Hera's a General now, apparently, and Ezra's certain it suits her just as he's certain even in a world where he'd stayed he wouldn't be asking a General for existential advice at 3:00 AM. Every thing he learns about what's happening in Lesser Space is a double-edged blade.

They aren't really supposed to know much at all-- not relevant, but Theliva keeps offering Ezra little nuggets of info about the Spectors like an awkward stepparent offering candy to win affection from a recalcitrant child. To which Ezra says, 'did you know it was actually just so easy not to join the Empire?' If Ezra's parents had been alive and he could have carried on their family legacy-- well. Isn't that what his whole life's been about, at the end of the day? Hauling around other people's legacies, trying to build something new out of the scattered pieces.

He offers himself up, everything he is on open palms to the gallery of ghosts, living and dead:

This is all I have to offer. It is enough.

#Star Wars #Ezra Bridger #tumblrfic tag #star wars why?#listen man i don't know #sometimes you realize you've grown up and you're not at all where you thought you'd be and that's ok actually #also wanted to poke at some of the weird things your brain does if you lose a parent young #anyway I do think at some point Ezra and Luke become like online friends who scream together about trying to teach Force sensitive kids #this is also clearly unbetaed because sometimes your brain starts writing in the shower and you just gotta throw it into the universe #star wars rebels #chissezra au

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dream-phantasm · 2 years

Text

Leona Kingscholar x Reader: Love Letters (5)

Oops, this was supposed to be done earlier but school got in the way as usual lol

We’ll be meeting Rook soon as well as Trey again!

Hope you enjoy!

No spoilers or warnings for now but this might change in future installments :)

"You scared me. I almost thought you were Rook…" Ruggie shudders, jumping a little. "Uh, who's Rook?" You question him.

"You haven't felt him yet? I think he's been watching you for most of the day. It's better for me if he targets somebody else anyway, shishi!" He gets up, dusting off his pants. "Oh, the weirdo in the…yeah, right! The letters! It was you, right?!" You accuse him.

He raises an eyebrow before a look of shock crosses his face. Ruggie bursts into another round of giggles. You glare at him, embarrassed. "It's not funny, dude! Just tell me." You huff.

"Hahaha! Ah-" You swear to the great sevens, Ruggie was clutching his stomach, wiping tears from his eyes. His reaction almost made you crack up as well. "You- You're so- Ahaha! I can't believe you…you think it's me!?" Ruggie sneers, his tail wagging slightly, "Just wait till he hears this!"

"He?!" You look at him incredulously. "So, you know who it is! Tell me!" You shake him roughly by the shoulders.

He pushes out of your grip rather easily, much to your disappointment. "Nope, can't do that. Unless you have more than he's paying, my lips are zipped." Ruggie grins. You glare at him, it totally seems like he's teasing you. Almost everybody at this school had heard that you lived in a ramshackle dorm, therefore it was only natural to assume you have zero cents to your name as well.

"Uh, what if I hurt you?" You wince upon hearing that come out of your mouth. You know how ridiculous you sound.

"Shishishi, what are you going to do? You're in a bad spot, y'know." He taunts you. "Hm. If I give you a hint, will you call off your red blue duo and your cat? We can call everything forgiven, right?" This Valentines day has been torturous. It's really not that much to ask in return for information. You're sure he probably has an ulterior motive.

"Um, I can try. They don't really listen to me, and Grim's not a cat!" You scowl, wary. "If you're so sure about that. You better try real hard! Shishishi, if I tell you, maybe he'll start treating me better." He giggles the last part to himself.

"Right! You've met him before. Pay attention to his face, he's exceptionally handsome and has green eyes." Ruggie tells you, you nod frantically along.

You only knew about two people with green eyes at NRC that you had talked to. That would be Cater and some random first year who had matching green hair. You really doubted it was Cater and you hadn't talked to that other guy enough to warrant gifts and love letters.

He also seemed to dislike you, for whatever reason.

"I gotta go before that Rook finds me. Cya, shishishi!" He picks a handful of dandelions and runs off before you can even get a word in. "T-Thank you?!" You shout after him. "You and him owe me one now!" Ruggie cheerfully waves with his free hand. Then, he's just gone.

In the distance, you see a red and blue blur approaching.

"[Name]...stop…running off everywhere!" Ace yells as he sharply inhales, "I don't understand this crazy track-head."

"Track-head, really? Track is a great sport to build endurance!" Deuce is a little out of breath but otherwise seems to be in better shape than Ace. "[Name]! You were so fast! Are you sure you don't want to join Track?" He turns to you excitedly.

"Henchman! My legs are all wobbly, I'm so tired dazo!" Grim promptly falls on your feet. You pick him up with a sigh, "I can't, I'm already in the taking-care-of-Grim club."

"Are you sure that isn't a full-time job?" Ace snorts. "Nope, that's why I'm handing him off to you guys after school. Grim-sitting is on you guys in the afternoon." You smile.

"Why can't I come with, henchman dazo?" Grim whines. "Because I'll be studying and doing boring things. It'll be more fun with ADeuce." You gently convince him. "ADeuce? You better not make that a thing." Ace huffs. "Ever since Cater called us that…I don't want to be associated with him." Deuce shudders.

"You think I want to be associated with you? Please, you're not very good at making jokes."

"These two…" You and Grim share a look. "Class is probably starting soon, we should get going." You hope to distract them from chasing down that beastman.

"Yeah, we'll avenge that lost deluxe menchi katsu sandwich dazo!" Grim exclaims. "Maybe you should focus on class more." A lying hypocrite you were. It was a miracle the two of you got the marks you did. Under your collaborative effort as a singular student, you both pass with decent grades.

"Considering you two barely keep up, it's crazy you two haven't failed yet." Ace snickers. "Don't worry! If we work hard enough, we'll become honor students!" Deuce smiles, a look of determination on his face. You can't deny him.

"I'll become the greatest magician dazo!"

"Oh yeah, by the way, I got a hint bout my uh…admirer." You tell them as you all walk back. "Was it that — what did Cater call him again? — guy then?" Deuce curiously asks. "No, I don't think so. Ruggie told me he's attractive with green eyes and that we've met before." You explain.

"Wow, that narrows it down by a lot."

"Shut it, Ace. It's not my fault almost all of the students here are attractive."

"Green eyes…You don't think it's Cater, is it?!" Deuce gasps. "No way! Since that Ruggie guy seemed familiar with him, I assumed the…admirer…would be a Savanaclaw member." You suggest. "What, so you wanna go around Savanaclaw, looking into people's eyes?" Ace questions, clearly doubtful.

You hadn't planned this far. "Uh…maybe?" You shrug. "And if it's some random Savanaclaw member, what'll you do about it, huh?" You hate to admit that Ace is making valid points.

"There's someone else who we could ask about this." You snap, a light bulb going off in your head, "Do you guys know a guy named Rook?"

Deuce's eyes widen in realization.

"Ah, I think I heard Trey talk about someone named that before!"

Your next lead would be the mystery stalker, Rook.

Ao3: HERE

If you see it posted anywhere or by anyone else, it's not me.

#twisted wonderland #leona kingsholar x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #ace trappola #deuce spade #ruggie bucchi #gender neutral reader #love letters #valentines day #valentines #fluff #not beta read #i'm not getting better at tagging

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allzelemonz · 1 year

Text

Blame, Consequence: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader is referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, dubcon Warnings: Dubious consent, O’Driscolls are their own warning, Reader is an O’Driscoll, power dynamics, power imbalance, manipulation, humiliation, cock shaming, exhibitionism, public sex, performance sex, oral sex, face fucking, praise Summary: You take the fall for a mistake made on a job, Colm feels like punishing you a bit differently than usual.

It’s Tommy’s fault. Most things are really. The man is an idiot, always has been and always will be. But Colm doesn’t like to admit his mistakes, and trusting the wrong man is a big mistake. So when the law came early and Tommy was clearly to blame due to his reckless way of handling the job, Colm blamed the first man he saw. The ride back to camp was fast, quiet, and full of tension. Everyone can feel it, they just don’t know who Colm will take it out on yet. There’s three of you aside from Tommy and Colm himself, all of you are equally likely targets. As you hitch the horses the three of you share a look, knowing two of you are probably going to have to hold the other while Colm beats them.

You just so happened to be the first man he sees.

“Declan, Billy.” Colm calls. “Bring your friend along.”

Billy follows the order, taking your arm. Declan gives you a sympathetic look first, but takes your other arm. The fear comes over you as they walk you into camp, you can’t help it. You’ve Colm do awful things to his own men, ones like you that have never crossed him or done a thing wrong. He tortures them anyway. They bring you to the middle of camp, just a few yards from the main fire, where Colm stands waiting patiently.

“Take his gun belt, Billy.” Colm instructs.

His voice is an eerie calm, his demeanor even more so. Colm isn’t really the type to yell, just the type to speak quietly and creepy before he kills without mercy. Billy carefully takes your weapons from you and looks to Colm for further instructions. Billy’s always been loyal, all three of you have, yet you’ve all taken beatings for nothing.

“You gonna behave yourself, boy?” Colm asks you.

You take a shaky breath, putting on a brave face. “Yes, boss.”

Colm waves Billy and Declan away, leaving you alone in the middle of a large circle of O’Driscolls. He doesn’t do this often, beat one of his men so publicly, but you’ve seen it before. You’re usually on the sides, watching the poor soul, but now it’s you. Colm’s eyes cut into you and it feels like your chest might cave in, all the eyes on you makes it much worse. Last time you took the fall for someone else's mistake Colm just beat you on the spot. Only Declan was there to see and it was just a few hits. You have the feeling this will be worse.

“Strip for me, boy.”

Colm’s order hangs in the air, far from what you expected. He’s beaten men to death, cut so far he hits bone, left men out to freeze overnight, but this is a first.

“Boss?” You ask, face twisting in confusion.

“Go on.” Colm nods, his hands resting on his gun belt as he stares holes into you.

You try to collect yourself, stay strong through whatever he has planned. You have no context for this. He’s taken a man’s shirt before so he could cut at his chest, but he’s never outright ordered a man to strip in front of the whole gang. His eyes stay fixed on you with a heavy stare as you bring your hands to the buttons of your shirt. He watches through the whole process and you try not to think about where you are. As the chilly air hits your skin, it’s hard to deny that you’re here, bare and exposed.

Colm hums, walking towards you. “You fellas think he’s impressive?”

You unconsciously try to cover yourself at the comment. A few shouts and whistles come from the gang, compliments and insults alike.

“Don’t be shy, boy.” Colm says as he stops about a foot away from you. “Not everybody can have somethin’ ta swing around. Somebody’s gotta be tiny.”

A heat comes over you and you can’t quite place if it’s embarrassment or rage. This is the punishment, calling your dick small? Like some twisted childhood bully. The beatings are starting to seem like the better option. Colm comes closer, his eyes raking your body in a way that makes you shiver more than the cold. He moves fast, harshly gripping your dick in his hand and holding it tight. Whispers from the gang fly around in your head as you try not to wince from the pain.

“I expected a little more.” Colm squeezes harder, pulling slightly. “This is just disappointin’.”

You don’t move, don’t react if you can help it. If you resist, you’re well aware you’ll die. But when you feel that ache, that growing feeling, you feel like death may be preferable.

Colm hums lowly. “Ya like this, boy?” His hand loosens a bit and he pumps you once, enough to make the ache worse. “Never took ya fer the type.”

“Boss, please.” You whisper, the air in your lungs running thin.

“Oh.” Colm chuckles. “I like that. Go on, boy, beg.”

You wince as he grips you tightly and tugs hard enough to pull you forward an inch. “Please.”

“Way I see it, boy, I got two options.” Colm whispers, a wicked smile on his face. “I can deal with ya here and you can spend the night in the cold or ya can impress me.”

“Impress you?”

“I beat ya.” Colm says, tugging at your dick again. “And I leave ya out here ta freeze or ya get on yer knees, show me what a loyal man ya are and ya can come warm my bed fer the night.”

You consider the options. You’ve been beaten my Colm before, left out in the cold too, but you have an option this time. Suck off your boss in front of the gang and you get to be in a warm tent with a nice bed. Sleeping with Colm might not be so bad. He’s relatively easy on the eyes, strong, suave. Maybe he’d like you, remember you and not blame you for someone else’s mistakes again.

“I’ll do whatever you want, boss.” You say, voice shaky.

Colms hums, releasing his hold on you. “Go on then. Impress me.”

You sink to your knees and try to ignore the calls and whistles from the gang. It occurs to you that you may never hear the end of this. Everyone you see on a daily basis is watching, including those you half-way consider friends. They’ll talk about this forever, call you a whore and a million other names, but it’s too late now. You look up and meet Colm’s piercing eyes as they cut all the way to your soul, bringing a guttural feeling of fear to you.

So you focus on the task your boss has given you. Impress him. You unfasten his pants and pull out his surprisingly hard dick. He’s enjoyed this, watching you squirm and making you submit. Of course he got off on it. You run your thumb over his tip, spreading the precum and earning a slight hiss from your boss. You’re not sure if it’s reassuring or frightening, knowing he wants this and that he’s enjoying it. You swallow the nerves and ignore your own aching need as you lick a slow stripe up the underside before taking him in your mouth.

Your ears fill with comments from the crowd, whistles, a few calling you a whore, obscenities you’d rather not think about. You try to focus as you take as much of your boss as you can, fitting your hands around what you can’t fit. Colm is long, real long. Slowly, as your heart beats out of your chest, you begin to bob your head. Colm’s hand grips at your hair and you try not to think about anything but getting the job done, making him unravel hard and in record time.

Spit begins to trickle down to your chin as you pick up the pace. But before you can do much, Colm puts his other hand in your hair and takes your control away. His fingers grip tight and it stings as he starts to use you. You let your hands fall to your side, submitting like you’re sure Colm wants. He fucks your face at a punishing pace as the gang whistles and jeers. You have to put everything you have into controlling your gag reflex as Colm’s long dick slides in and out at a harsh pace. Keeping your eyes closed, you try to be what Colm wants, a submissive warm mouth for him to punish. You can’t feel your own ache anymore, there’s too much pain in your jaw and throat to feel much pleasure from this. When he releases, it’s without warning, fast, and sudden. For an older guy, it’s impressive that he used you as long as he did and it’s even more impressive that his stream of seed seems never ending as it goes down your throat. Even when he pulls out, it’s still strong and he aims it to cover your skin. The feeling of the sticky cum landing over your face, neck, and chest is unpleasant given your context, but you sit and let Colm do what he wants.

You blink your eyes open slowly, thankful what landed on your face is restricted to your chin. Colm fastens his pants, looking down at you darkly. The surrounding gang murmurs, all wondering if Colm’s done with you. Some of them want to go to bed and be done with it, others want to see more.

Colm grunts as he squats in front of you and takes your chin in his hand, looking over his work. “Such a pretty boy, ain’t ya?”

You try to hold his gaze, not wanting to seem weak, but it’s so heavy and cutting that you have to look down. His grip on your chin doesn’t make things easier as it accentuates the pain in your jaw.

“You been real good, boy.” Colm hums. “Real good.”

You shutter a bit at his words. “T-thanks, boss.”

His hand grips your face, making an unflattering squish of your skin. “Good with a gun, pretty on yer knees, I ain’t sure which I like more.”

He releases your face and holds his hand in front of your mouth, a bit of his cum having rubbed onto it from his hold on you. You glance between his hand and his face, reading what he wants before you carefully lick the cum away. Colm smiles, tilting his head as he watches you.

“You.” He groans, deep in the back of his throat. “Are gonna keep my bed warm fer a long time, darlin’. How’s that sound? My own little whore.”

Your heart races, a mix of fear and the lingering excitement that still aches, hard against your stomach. “Whatever you want, boss. I’ll, uh, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Colm grins, sickly and twisted. “Ain’t ya sweet. Loyal little thing.”

He offers you a hand and you take it, allowing him to pull you up. The surrounding gang is quiet now, waiting for Colm’s next orders. He snaps his fingers in Billy’s direction, holding his hand out for your gun belt. Billy scrambles towards him, handing it over and returning to his spot in the crowd as quickly as he can. Colm runs his hands over your belt, the thing that shows your status as a gunslinger along with the O’Driscoll green mask lying with your clothes in the dirt a few feet away.

“We’re done here!” Colm shouts to the gang and they disburse without question as he holds out your belt to you. “Get yer things, darlin’. You got a long night ahead a’ ya.”

His grin sends a shiver up your spine. He turns towards his tent, taking his time to saunter. You gather your clothes from the ground, not bothering to dress because you know Colm will only make you remove them when you arrive at his tent. You still have that ache, burning now, and you wonder if Colm will give you any attention or if he’ll just fuck you for his own end. There’s no telling given his unpredictable nature so far tonight. You clutch your mess of clothes close and you walk to the boss’s tent, hoping for the best.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader

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szagaloree · 2 years

Text

His wife….

Chapter 3

Contains: fluff/angst/mentions of death/ ptsd

I stirred in my sleep from a bad nightmare, whimpering in my sleep spider slowly stirred waking up, I lean up shouting as spider jump from being frightened, “mom? Mom hey it’s okay,” he stood up, I gasp trying to catch my breath “it’s okay you’re fine, it was just a bad dream,” he says, “more like a nightmare,” I huff putting my head in my hands, “what was it about?” He asks “some really deep stuff, it’s scary to almost forget you were in the military till your ptsd comes back and bites you in the ass,” I said.

I sighed laying back down, “what do you think our life could be outside of this? Why don’t we just go and be with Jake and the rest?” He asks “the rest?” I raise a brow “Jake a family, they all live in the forest,” he said, “wow I’d sing even know that, that’s crazy,” I cocks a brow, “I don’t know, I can’t just leave they would be hunting us too, we just gotta figure out how we’re gonna get out of here,” I said.

Next day carries on and I was doing some combat training with Raven, spider sat down watching as I tumble Raven down wrapping my legs around her neck, Quaritch walked in wide eyed, “what are you doing kid?” Quaritch asks spider “just watching,” he said, “Jesus Christ you didn’t have to put me down like that,” I laughed pushing her, “you cheated,” Raven said “I didn’t cheat I just beat your ass,” I said, as we tackle again I wrap my ankle over her and push her down. “Aye aye not you tryna jump me,” I laughed as Allen lifts me up, “I wonder if my mom remembers everything, all of her past,” spider says, “probably it depends on what triggers it,” Quaritch says as he watched me.

I went to grab my bow that I got made for me, “when did you get that?” Ellice asks, “earlier, you know had to get my baby back,” I smirked grabbing an arrow, I place it correctly pulling back on the string. I shoot at the target wall almost making a bullseye “traaash!” Raven yells out “hey I almost made a bullseye and it’s been literally years since I’ve used a bow,” I shake my head, I look to my left to check on spider and see him talking to Quaritch but Quaritch was staring at me, his unconsciously glued to mine. I try to look away but my eyes seem to not look back but it got cut short when Raven pushes me, “move you jerk,” I push her back smirking.

…

As I leave spider’s room I head towards mine till I heard a certain somebody call “Corporal” I stopped, Quaritch was leaning on the wall almost as seemingly on purpose. He stares at me, “what?” I said nonchalantly, “it’s awfully lot of things going around about you and they ain’t good,” he said, “you telling me this why?” I question, “I heard you were alongside them and sully, so let me guess.. they got a spy lurking around these parts,” he says leaning off the wall “I’m not know spy, I fight for myself,” I said “what about your son? You just found out that he’s yours and you didn’t even know,” he says, “don’t speak on him, you don’t know everything so stop trying to act like you do,” I said warning him, he cocks a brow “who’s the daddy? Wonder if he’s alive, he must’ve knocked you up for you to have a child on this planet,” he said, I glare at him and walked up to him.

“And you did a pretty good job at,” I said.

I walked away to leave him in his thoughts as he was frozen by what I said he couldn’t tell if I was just making a remark or was I being for real, I walked down the hall sighing, but I realize what I just done I may have exposed him to being spider’s father and if he thinks about it to hard he’ll realize it. “Fuck!” I mumble in annoyance, I made my way close to the quarter but was pulled into a dark room, I tried to pry myself off and fight whoever it was but he had my arms pinned as he shuts the door, I was going to shout but he covered my mouth the lights turn on and it was Quaritch “tell me you’re lying! Tell me I was mistaken by what the hell you said!” He said almost has he wants to me to but knows he wants the answers out, his heart raced anxious and worry but also fear.

“Tell me that kid isn’t mine! Is it?!” I stood quiet as tears falling my face, “you better tell me right now,” he said his jaw clenching tightly, “spider’s your son,” I admitted his grip loosens, his whole heart flipped upside down, “there’s no way…no..I cannot be,” he freaks out “he is.. your son,” I said “when we’re you pregnant?” He asks “before I even died and before you sit up there destroy their hometree and the tree of voices just to piss then off,” I said, “I don’t think you deserve to know everything, after everything you have done,” I said shaking my head, I got to walk but he grabs my wrist “n-no, I need to know!” He says, I sighed I go to the screen and look for my files, “its obvious they wiped some of you memories because of they didn’t you would remember everything,” I said, I pull up my log from the time I was 6 months pregnant, Quaritch stood walking close to the screen.

“Well, here’s a baby bump update, the progress is going good,” I smiled showing my belly off, “I can’t wait to know the gender in fact we just got it today and if this asshole is here, he can read it,” I said looking to look for him “can you look for mikes please?” I asked they nodded, “yesss?” He answers “sit down I told you we were supposed to find out the gender of the baby” I said looking up “oh yea yea yea” he pulls a chair over.

Quaritch eyes widen watching the video in disbelief.

“You read it,” I give him the paper, “I don’t think I’m ready, I’m hoping for a girl,” he says, “now your thoughts is on a girl you said boy,” I chuckled “I don’t know,” he chuckles as he reads, “okay… so it’s a boy!” I squealed excitedly, “ayyyyee, I can teach him some good ole Basketball,” Quaritch smirks, “I’m so happy,” I smiled as Quaritch smiled proudly before pulling me in a kiss.

Once the video ends, “wha-ho-I-oh my god” he felt so lightheaded after watching that video but that wasn’t the only one he needed to see.

“I am Gwen.. Stefani Quaritch,” I said, “I would say I’m surprised to even be here but I guess this is what my job turned into, being on Pandora to be the scientists bodyguards or whatever,” I sighed.

“I was your wife,” I said, he looks at me, “no.. I don’t remember having a wife,” he said “of course you don’t,” I said “but don’t believe me, look at the back of right ear, there will be a infinity tattoo, We both got it after we gotta married I have on my left ear see,” I pull my ear forward to show him, he looks for a mirror or something to try and see. There it was the infinity tattoo, he gulped, “when I was pregnant with spider, I was happy, finally like I could leave and pull away from this rda bullshit! To be free! And I thought you would too, but that was cut short when I died,” I said with tears. He walks up to me “h-how did you die?” He asks.

“I died giving birth to spider… I died giving life,” I said.

His eyes widen, “and you were going to this stupid selfish war against these people and I died alone! Alone miles!” I shoved him, “mom” I gasp looking to see spider, “spider what are you doing up?” I ask, “couldn’t sleep, what’s going on?” He asks looking at us, “n-nothing everything is fine,” I huff wiping my eyes “go back to bed please,” I said, he sighed listening and starts to leave “ I would’ve never left if I knew you were giving birth,” he said “lies! You would’ve still went to war after he came, you don’t care! You were to busy trying to reck havoc to these poor people who want to be alone! We could’ve lived a good live away from this shit miles!” I cried, “I wanted you to change to finally open your eyes stop being stuck on being a marine! This isn’t safe of a child,” I argued, he sighed, “this is all that I know,” he says “being a puppet is all that you know huh? Really? Wow” I shake my head disappointed, “this is all that you think you know! If you are not going to step up and be a damn man to face your demons then you need to stay the hell away from him, you’re not going to turn my son into a heartless killer,” I said leaving him in raining of thoughts, his ears goes down. He didn’t know what to do, now that he knows the truth what is he going to do, change or stay the same?

To be continued…

#mature audiences only #avatar quaritch #avatar the way of water #quaritch x oc #quaritchhiswifeoc #spider quaritch #colonel quaritch #na'vi quaritch #neytiri #jake sully

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