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strawbeelemonade · 2 years ago

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PLATONIC HEADCANNONS: being miles morales best friend but your also a bit insane (Part 2!)

i'm gonna try to remember to start specifying when something is intended to be platonic or romantic.

🕷- I was literally unable to cram everything I wanted to say in the first one.

🕷- Miles is really only comfortable showing you his drawings.

🕷- He's an incredibly awkward guy, but the words come so easily when he hangs out with you. he doesn't choke up like he does with other people at school.

🕷- When he gets his powers his first instinct is to call you. He’s literally halfway through punching your number into the keypad until he stops and decides against it. He knows your number off by heart now.

🕷- You appear and disappear like a ghost its so random.

🕷- Honest to god, he lowkey thought you were homeless until you invited him over to watch Barbie Mermaidia.

🕷- “Bibble is so me.”

🕷- He’s the only person you let over at your place. its small and in the basement of an old apartment complex. the landlord couldn’t get anyone to pay to live there. you live alone.

🕷- You struck a deal, and they let you crash there as long as rent was on time and you fixed their washing machine for free.

🕷- Miles asked how you got to live there for so cheap. You tell him it’s because someone died on the couch he was sitting on.

🕷- He sits on the floor.

🕷- Miles is so eager to share his new powers with someone.

🕷- No seriously, between all the stress and lying and anxiety its nice to let himself get excited about it. To let himself have fun and see what he can do.

🕷- You guys TOTALLY video tape him trying out his new powers for the first time.

🕷- I can imagine you finding an abandoned alleyway on some random ass street after school and filming Miles Trying to do a backflip LMAO.

🕷- You gotta fish him out of a trashcan after he tries to spider climb up the wall.

🕷- You know that thing where a group of friends duck tapes one of their friends to a wall for fun? You get miles to do that to you.

🕷- You guys can’t stop laughing, The best memories of your lives are in those videos.

🕷- He’ll take you up to the top of buildings to show you the graffiti art he painted!! he’ll let you sign it off with a dick and balls or a heart if you want. You guys do homework up there together as well.

🕷- ’M & (Y/I) were here’ has been painted on every available surface of New York.

🕷- You both have the bright idea to hop on his back and go web slinging around the neighbourhood. He can carry you easily.

🕷- Miles decides If you don’t tell him to slow down, then he’s not going fast enough.

🕷- You NEVER tell him to slow down.

🕷- “Faster!!!“

🕷- Now that he’s got super strength he can put you in an inescapable headlock, he doesn’t do it too tight but he holds you there until you tap out.

🕷- He takes you to the coolest spots with the best views.

🕷- You regularly cover for him.

🕷- “We were at Jamba Juice the whole time officer I swear.”

🕷- Miles side eyes you knowing damn well he was no where NEAR a Jamba Juice.

🕷- ’Thanks’ he’d mouth.

🕷- You and Petter B will get along like a house on fire.

🕷- While Miles is extremely unimpressed by him, you don’t seem to care about any pre-existing expectations one might have when you think of the guy behind the mask of Spider-Man, your cracking jokes and feeding your pet rat a couple of French fries while the three of you sit in the diner, planning your next moves carefully.

🕷- Peter B can tell you’re a good kid. He’s at an age where a lot of your batshit tendencies don’t really faze him as long as your not hurting yourself.

🕷- Speaking of which.

🕷- When him and Miles get the chance to talk alone he warns him that he needs to be careful.

🕷- He tells him that normal relationships aren’t possible anymore. And stresses to him what a life like this can mean for your loved ones. especially since you found out his secret. This line of work isn’t just dangerous for Miles, but for you as well.

🕷- Miles is a little shaken after the conversation, no matter how gently Peter tries to put it. But what he’s implying is clear. He tries to shake it off and enjoy the time you both spend together. He won’t admit to himself that Peter is right just yet.

🕷- It’s just so easy to tell you everything and rely on you.

🕷- There will be a moment sometime in the future when reality sets in, but for now Miles makes the same mistake every Spider-Man does.

🕷- He has a best friend. :(

🕷- On the other hand, Peter comes to the staggering realisation that your actually extremely prone to accidents and danger all on your own. And he appropriately does a complete 180 from ‘casually distant bum-uncle' to ‘I am your dad now’.

🕷- It’s Nothing personal, kid. now stop trying to get in the middle of fights with dangerous criminals and let the adult— or at least the guys with super strength, stamina, speed and resilience— handle it.

🕷- He demands you stay out of the crossfire, but, to no one’s surprise you don’t listen.

🕷- You’re willing to throw yourself in front of Miles to shield him from anything, much to your best friends terror.

🕷- You hold your own surprisingly well against opponents that would be considered reasonable threats otherwise. You’re resourceful, grabbing anything and everything you can get your hands on. you get a terrifying look in your eye.

🕷- No matter how impressed Peter is, He will slingshot you around with his web-shooters to propel you out of the way of oncoming attacks. He will do this for both of you, but feels the need to do it less for Miles. He knows he can take what’s on the other end of the punch. But No matter how untouchable you make yourself out to be, you can’t.

🕷- “Do I want kids?”

🕷- He takes you on as his responsibility just as much as he does Miles.

🕷- Spider-Gwen also looks out for you in battle.

🕷- She’s more laid back, and even a little suave about it too.

🕷- She secretly wishes she had someone like you in her universe. What she wouldn’t give to decompress with you after a long day of patrolling New York.

🕷- She’s actually the most normal about you having a pet rat. You know, the one you grabbed out of a garbage can in a subway station. Yeah, That rat.

🕷- Miles watches you both get along like a house on fire and just quietly falls behind you both since he’s not sure what to do or say.

🕷- He’s so awkward, poor guy.

🕷- Your tendency to go off for days at a time ignites everyone’s curiosity. it’s a concerning habit, and Gwen even endeavours to follow you to see where you disappear to so often.

🕷- She’s unsuccessful.

🕷- It's never said out loud, but when she’s facing the one-way ticket home she finds herself wanting to stay just a bit longer. Not just for Miles, but for you to… She wonders what you’ll get up to while she’s gone.

🕷- …

🕷- Peter Porker vibes with you so hard.

🕷- no wait don’t scroll away wait

🕷- he WILL gift you the freakishly large cartoon mallet. Sorry, but miles didn’t appreciate it for what it was.

🕷- He would be cracking jokes and doing bits with you through out the whole goddamn movie.

🕷- Miles can usually let you do your own thing without sparing a second glance, but the looney tunes laws of physics that Porker exhibits WILL rub off on you at least a little.

🕷- It’s contagious. And when you start flattening eachother into to perfect discs it freaks everyone out a little.

🕷- He’s got enough to worry about in the plot,,, Damn,,

🕷- Spider Noir teaches you how to throw a good punch

🕷- in exchange you let him mess with your phone as much as he wants

🕷- "how the hell do you work this thing?"

🕷- He likes you, he thinks you got a lot of guts.

🕷- You were actually the one to design Miles’ suit. He took inspiration from one of your drawings in your school notebook.

🕷- You've always believed in him, and that made him believe in himself too.

#spider man #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #into the spiderverse #you guys are cutie patooties #spider noir #spiderman into the spiderverse #peter porker #gwen stacy #spider gwen

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mojogojocasahouse · 7 months ago

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Just in Time Part II

Satoru Gojo x f!reader (Principal Gakuganji's daughter)

On the eve of a wedding of your father's arrangement, you call upon your reliable yet agitating old flame Satoru Gojo in an act of desperation and defiance

words: 6.5k series content: infidelity (in an arranged marriage so does that even count?), angst, smut, unprotected p in v, oral m & f-receiving, face fucking, rough sex, minor choking, spit kink, creampie, jealous!Gojo, protective!Gojo (moreso in part ii), minor degradation 18+ only

Part I

You follow the sound out into the cool summer morning, Satoru leaning back against the railing with his head hung. He’s in shorts and an unzipped hoodie, his snowy locks still mussed from his pillow. He raises his eyes when he hears the door opening, blinking the agony from his eyes away before he smiles. Had you not been paying attention you’d have missed the switch.

“Go sit in the bedroom and stay there,” Satoru instructs, turning you by the shoulder and gently shoving you toward his room, “Actually, lock yourself in the bathroom or something…Okay, or just stand there…”

Fear has frozen you in place, but when he pushes down on your head you drop to the floor in a heap, leaning back against the counter in the middle of the kitchen as a call of your name on the other side of the door signifies the worst has come to pass. You hear Satoru mutter ‘Good enough, I guess,’ before he snaps his jovial, mischievous persona back into place, his sing-song greeting to your father outside barely audible just as the hinges close behind him. It takes you too long to drag yourself across the sleek wooden floor and hover your ear against the same place you’d been pressed to in very different circumstances earlier that night.

“I know she’s in there you insolent brat!” That’s your father’s voice, sounding as furious as you’ve ever heard him.

“Are you going senile in your old age?” Satoru’s wit never fails him, “We’re gonna have to strip you of that fancy position if you can’t keep your thoughts straight. I think I could be a principal, don’t you? Not that I really want to go to Kyoto but…”

The sound of blood spattering against a wall proves there’s a third out there with them, Satoru’s taunting laugh confirming he’d been the target of a blood manipulation technique.

“Woah, woah, woah, hang on, Gramps. Call off your little attack dog, you know it’s pointless. Unless you forgot that too…”

“She’s getting married tomorrow and this nonsense that’s gone on for too long already is finished! Stop harboring her like there’s anything you can do, what’s done is done.”

“But it isn’t done, is it?” The change in his tone is almost jarring. It’s menacing now, low and rumbling even through the barrier you're still pressed against.

“You have nothing to offer–”

“Ha! Don’t I? Does that shriveled raisin rattling around inside your skull not remember? I AM the Gojo clan. It’s all me! And no offense to Kamo’s cute little squirt gun technique, but we all know who’s winning this fight, right?”

It’s all murmurs that follow, the wood too thick to allow any legible words no matter how hard you press your ear against it. You fight the urge to wrench open the door…

“You know, Gakuganji,” you can hear Satoru respond after 30 seconds of eternity, his tone once again light and carefree, “A smart man would have tried to bleed me dry as a 15-year-old kid when you caught me sneaking out of her room at that first Exchange Event.”

“It didn’t matter. What could you give me, Gojo?”

“Now? Not a damn thing! And let’s be honest, probably not back then either. You’ve always been a slimeball. Go home, old man. You lost. No seat for you at the round table.”

“There’s nothing you can do-“

“You have ten seconds to leave, I don’t think I need to warn you about what happens if you don’t.”

The door knocks you flat onto the floor when he reenters the house, his hands quickly coming to right you as he drops to his knees. You’re just trying to keep yourself from crying, the pale stretch of his bare chest at your eye level and it takes every ounce of your waning self-control not to break down into him. His hands are warm and the arm’s length distance feels like miles, and he’s the only thing you want. But he’s something you can’t have.

When he’s certain you’re steady he jumps back to his feet, grabs his phone, and walks to peek out the window to ensure your unexpected visitors are gone. A flash of headlights flickers against the wall and you sigh in relief, your body still frozen in place.

“Nanami!” Gojo greets, phone pressed to his ear, “Yeah…yeah…No, I don’t need a ride … That happened one time six years ago! … Shut uuuup…No…Wai-wai-wait! I need something! … It’s important! … Is that apartment in your building still available? … It’s not for me…It’s not for me! … I got baby Gakuganji out, she needs a place… Okay, what about that other place… Uh-huuuh… Yes… No, I’ll just cover the year… Yeah, upfront… Here tonight… No, my place in the city… I’m staying up… Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“You’re not paying for-” you begin to argue when you’re certain he’s hung up.

“I didn’t ask,” he quickly cuts you off, “Take the bedroom, I’ll stay out here. One of good ol’ Kento Nanami’s suit buddies is a building manager, says he might have a place. No promises the Kamo clan will let me into their little fortress to get your stuff, but I’m gonna call Yaga to see if he can swindle a deal.”

The typically childish, flippant Satoru was gone, and in his place was the intelligent, efficient man that so very few saw, including yourself. He was a strategizer, calculating and quick-witted not only with his sarcastic words, but solutions, too. In ten minutes he’d already freed you of your shackles and found you an alternative path; could you have just asked him for help years ago and gotten this same response?

“Get some sleep,” he urges again, lifting his phone back to his ear for his next call, “Nothing will happen tonight… Yaga, need a favor!”

His bed feels like quicksand as you settle beneath the silky sheets and plush blankets. Everything smells like him from the pillows and the shirt you wear to your skin that he scrubbed clean with a touch so gentle it had sent ripples down your spine. You can hear him still murmuring in the living room, the conversation growing heated and you want to run to tell him you’re not worth this trouble. Nine years as an intermittent visitor to his bed doesn’t qualify you for this, he should have just surrendered you to the men at the door.

“They tracked her phone!” He’d said that loud enough you were able to hear it clearly.

Has there been any one moment of your life where you had control? All this time you’d thought your moments with Satoru had been yours and yours alone, a secret kept between the two of you, but it wasn’t. Your father had known all along and let it continue, and you knew that it wasn’t for your benefit. The trip down memory lane leaves you sobbing into your hands, all the emotions of the night cresting over your weakening composure. You do all you can to keep quiet, choking and sputtering on the wails that want to break free, you can’t show weakness. Not now, not ever.

Even in your best attempts at discretion, you’re still too loud to hear the door slowly open, so when a long, slender body curls behind you it comes as a complete surprise. Satoru’s arm wraps tightly around your middle, his face notching into the curve of your shoulder.

Tears of despair turn into those of relief, your fingers threading with his on your stomach before you clutch his hand to your aching chest like a child’s teddy bear. It’s big enough to be one. Your muscles ache from tension, your resolve beginning to crack, and when he nuzzles his thin, pointed nose against your skin you finally lose the battle.

He holds you as you sob, the embarrassment, shame, and fear you felt running down your face. You can’t make out whatever he’s whispering in your ear but you swear it sounds like a pleading ‘stop’, and you can feel the way his arm pulls you even closer, your knuckles going white as you tighten your own grip. The burning in your throat is made worse with every gasping breath, and you can’t tell if it’s your body quivering or his until his palm swallows your jaw whole and pulls your chin up to face him.

The salt of your tears is bitter in a desperate kiss, his tongue coated with what had soaked your lips. There’s nothing gentle about his movements, they’re frantic and hard, the shock of his desperation enough to snap you back to reality. It’s him who’s trembling, his brow knit tightly for reasons you don’t and will likely never know.

“Stay…” you choke, throat thick with sorrow and strife, the thought of him leaving you in his bed alone dropping heavily into your stomach like a stone, “Please.”

“Sure,” he agrees, pecking at your lips again at a drastically softer pace.

Despite your turmoil, you doze off quickly. His embrace is an oasis, the feathering kisses he leaves along your neck, shoulder, and in the hollow behind your ear blooming like flowers and spreading their vivid warmth until you slip beneath the weight of sleep. He greets you here as he often does, the life you’d built in your dreams welcoming you.

It’s still dark when your eyes snap open, an arm pulling you tighter into a searing cocoon when your body jolts. Your long-held fantasy has burned to ash and crumbled into a nightmare, the image of white hair billowing in the breeze as tears ran from crystal blue eyes still painted behind your eyes.

“Toru?” you whisper as your fingers graze along the soft, smooth skin locking you in place.

“Hmm?” he hums, his tired voice like a balm.

“Are you here?” It’s delirium fogging your train of thoughts, words your mind has fabricated still echoing.

“Where else would I be?”

“Please stay…” You’re not even responding to him at this point, exhaustion has taken hold once again and thrown you right back into the fire. “Toru…”

The sun is blinding when you wake again, the bed cold and empty. A toothbrush is sitting on the bathroom counter when you wander in, a fresh set of shorts and a shirt that will be far too large for you perched on a shelf. Who knew Satoru could be such a gracious host?

There’s no sign of the man in the question even when you make your way to the living area save a mug of half-drank coffee sitting on an end table near the sliding glass doors leading out to a balcony. When you turn towards the kitchen, you spot another mug set out by the coffee maker, one for you, and that sinking feeling in your chest that had woken you up in the early hours of the morning returns.

“Then do something!” a distant voice shouts, “Do something!”

“Morning,” he greets in a jovial tone you know is a lie, “I left you a mug—“

“I know,�� you cut him off, and here in the light of a new day, you realize something you’d known all along.

You’re in love with him.

The pain of that admittance is freeing. He’s cast in a warm orange glow looking every bit as ethereal as he was, and you press your cheek to the patch of sun shining on his chest, wrapping your arms around his slim waist and stealing this moment with him knowing it very well may be the last. His arms lock around you faster than your hands can knot at the small of his back, there is no hesitation, not even enough time to consider a different course of action, and when he notches your head beneath his chin and sighs, your mind goes quiet.

You’ll stay here as long as he allows it. Five minutes, an hour, it doesn’t matter. This feels good, it feels safe…

I love you, I love you, I love you… It’s like a mantra, and while you don’t dare speak it you hope the message gets to him somehow. Maybe in the tightness of your hold, the tension from your efforts, or the shallowness of your breath. The world is still quiet, giving you enough peace to soak this in. There’s no blaring of car horns or busy conversations floating into the sky to disrupt you, it’s just the steady thrum of his heart beating. You’re positive this is the first time anyone has just…held you like this.

When he pulls away you try to hide your disdain for the distance he creates, your eyes are still closed when he tips your face up towards him with the side of his pointer finger.

He catches you mid-breath in a kiss harder than you expect after just waking up. You can feel his failed restraint, it’s been years since you’ve welcomed a new day together, lonely nights after long taxi rides home have been the norm. Two hands grip behind your knees and hoist you upwards, your arms slipping around his neck as his tongue drags along your lower lip, urging your mouth open and a whine to slip free.

There are a thousand reasons to stop him, but none of them matter right now. He’s so warm and solid, his jaw slightly rough with stubble too pale to see. A smile spreads across his face when he finally catches himself in his frenzy, slowing his frantic pace to something much more gentle and languid.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he purrs into your mouth, sliding his tongue over your own before you can respond, “I want crepes.”

The sun disappears from behind your eyelids, and you feel the cool surface of his kitchen counter as he sets you on top of it. With free hands, he explores the soft stretch of your legs, slipping between them as you continue to tug at his lips greedily. The clock hasn’t even hit 9 AM yet, but the ache settling into your core is beginning to burn. There was something so pathetically irresistible about seeing him so comfortable, so unguarded, it felt like you weren’t just a visitor to his bed. And that was a dangerous precipice to be standing on.

“Are you always so needy in the morning?” he laughs against your throat, a whine slipping free from his tease, “This what I’ve been missing out on?”

When his tongue swipes over your searing skin, your fingers lock into his hair as he explores the throat you bare to him. It’s those open-mouthed, lingering tastes that he tortures you with that have your hips flicking in search of friction, so he gives you his thigh, pulling you down to perch on it and dragging you over the slim, firm muscle. You know you look desperate and unkempt, but he keeps you moving enough to have you spasming as you find release and go lax in his hold.

“So…” he practically sings, a lilt of conceit in his tone, “Crepes?”

“It’s too early for crepes,” you pant, confused by his choice of a morning meal.

“Pfft, for you maybe! You want any or no?”

After dressing in a hoodie and sweatpants, Satoru leaves with a quick peck to your forehead, promising to be quick before the door clicks and locks behind him. Seconds later, a fluffy head of white hair pokes back in, his keys still rattling in the lock.

“Don’t use your phone,” he instructs, “Or open the door.”

You passed the time tidying the space up. There isn’t much that needs to be done, but you get into a steady rhythm that you’re all too familiar with, wiping down counters, picking up laundry, and you almost make the mistake of leaving the apartment to take out the trash before remembering his warning to not open the door.

As you begin to wipe down the bathroom, the sharp scent of the cleaner burning at your nose, you realize the ease he’d infused into you this morning has all but dried up. You watch as your hand trembles around the rag, a terrified reflection coming into view as you circle the white foam off the glass, revealing the truth of what lies beneath the crumbling facade.

“What are you doing?” a smooth voice asks from behind you, causing you to yelp and your heart to skip a beat, “Are you cleaning my bathroom?”

“Uh…” you stammer, still reeling from the shock, “Yeah.”

“Don’t… You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh. I’m sorry–”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry.”

With that he walks off, yelling over his shoulder that food was here and to hurry up before it got cold. You’d become so accustomed to being scolded for not being busy tidying something up that having him go and do the opposite had thrown you for a loop. When your own house had been too clean to keep you working, you’d been sent somewhere else to help, your existence nothing more than a housemaid for the Kamo clan. You’re own fault, you’d been told, with such a useless cursed technique what else would there be for you to do?

“C’mon!” he calls, “I’m being nice and waiting!”

Where a pile of cream-filled crepes sat in front of Satoru, a much more normal option was beside his on the table, a paper bag sitting on the couch in front of it. He paid you no mind as you cautiously pulled the bag towards you, peering inside to find a dress and jacket that cost far too much money.

“Satoru–” you scolded, squashing the leap your heart did into your throat, “I can’t pay–”

“Didn’t ask you to,” he cut off again, “You can’t go out in that.”

Right. You’re going to see an apartment today. Suddenly, what little appetite you’d mustered was gone, but you slink down onto the couch anyway, trying to eat as much as you can with a boulder in your stomach.

“What’s a��matter?” he asks with a full mouth, “I thought you liked that place.”

Adding a heaping pile of guilt to what you were already carrying threatened to shatter you, but you set a smile on your face and force the food down. His knee rests against yours, his long legs spread wide, his focus honed on his phone as he types away with one thumb. The furrow of his brow has you wondering if it’s just more trouble you’re causing him, technically now with clothes proper enough to be seen in public wearing, you could leave him free of whatever burden you’d inadvertently placed on his shoulders.

When his phone begins to vibrate with a call, he throws his overly sweetened crepe back onto its wrapping and wipes his hands on his shorts, greeting whoever it is with a cheekful of whipped cream and dough.

“If you’re calling me with more shit news…oh really!? So kind of him…I’d love to hear how that conversation went…Tell me…It is important…It is…Because I said it is…God damnit, Yaga!...”

The next bit of the conversation even you could hear thanks to tempers flaring and voices rising: “He said she’s your problem now.”

You can’t leave the apartment fast enough, even in nothing but Satoru’s baggy clothes. He yells at you to wait as you run to the door, circling down the stairs as fast as you can with tears dripping down your face. When you make it out onto the sidewalk, a solid chest and two long arms pull you in immediately, and you don’t need to see the person’s face to know exactly who it is. It’s easy to forget what he’s truly capable of. He probably leapt right off the balcony.

“I’m too tired for this,” he sighs, the agitation he was masking slipping through, “Go inside. Please.”

“No,” you argue, trying to shove him away, his hands easily catching yours and trapping them in cuffs of long, dexterous fingers.

“I just want to sleep for two fucking hours! Please, go inside!”

“You’re free to go–”

“Oh my God! Shut up already!”

It’s embarrassing how easily he hoists you over his shoulder like a tantruming child and carries you inside, sitting you on the couch and flopping down beside you, his head falling into your lap like it was a pillow.

“You piss me off,” he mumbles, curling an arm around you as his eyes drift closed, “I never do anything I don’t wanna do. Thought you knew that by now.”

A lingering drop falls from your cheek into his still tangled hair, your fingers instinctively moving to swipe it away but instead digging deeper, scraping against his scalp soothingly. He rumbles in appreciation, already drifting off, and so you continue. The steady, slow breaths exhaled through parted lips assure you he’s getting the sleep he desperately needs. You know he’d stayed awake all night anticipating another uninvited guest to his door, and who knows if he’d even managed the night before. He claimed he never slept on missions, unable to relax enough to find even a semblance of peace away from home.

Three hours later, he hasn’t moved. A small braid sits across his temple, keeping some of the strands that had been falling into his eyes neatly twisted away. You’ve barely been able to keep your eyes off of him, your wandering touch having moved from his hair to trace the sharp features of his face ever-so-gently to not wake him.

“I love you,” you whisper to ears that can’t hear you, hoping it alleviates the weight bearing down on your chest. It doesn’t.

You can’t see him again. At this point, being with him only has the potential to throw you deeper into this void you’re hurtling down. After seeing this apartment, you’ll find a hotel and take the weight of your problems off his shoulders. You know he has more than enough of his own to handle, sometimes you can’t help but think it’s a miracle he’s still standing.

The thought makes your chest tighten, and it’s simply more evidence this cord needs to be cut. He’s got his little black book and you’re simply just another number. You’re not even fun anymore, the baggage you carry is too much to bear to still be considered a good time. Whatever responsibility he feels for you is displaced, just because it all blew up right outside his front door doesn’t make this—you—his problem.

“Hmmm,” he hums twenty minutes later, his face nuzzling down into your legs as his arms around you tighten, “What time is it?”

“Two-ish…” you reply, trying to keep your voice level, but when his fingers pull up the hem of his shirt you’re wearing and his lips press softly against your stomach there’s no helping the sharp gasp that betrays you.

Within seconds he’s twisted you onto your back against the armrest, greedy hands tugging your borrowed shorts still loosely hanging off your hips down and off. White hair fills your fists as your spine arches off the couch, Satoru’s lips locking around your clit and suckling hard. All thoughts of never seeing him again are quickly thrown out the window. His palms hold your thighs spread wide as his silver tongue finally tastes what you’d denied him last night. He’s the only man who ever has, and he’s the only one you ever want to.

His thin, sharp nose drags over your clit as he laps at your entrance, your legs begging to clamp down around his ears as searing heat boils in your belly. It’s pathetic how you’re already trembling, but it only spurs him on, your eager response to his affections is always his greatest motivation. Despite his tongue being buried deep, it isn’t enough. You still feel so empty and your body instinctively asks–begs–for more by rolling your hips over his face, searching for anything to satiate the hunger. There is no surrender in his appetite, however. In a battle of wills, he always comes out on top, and today is no exception.

“You taste so good,” he hums against your soaked core, half-drunk on nothing but you.

“Please,” you whine, keening when he teases your back entrance with a taunting flick.

“M’gonna take care of you.”

Something foreign and tranquil washes over you in a steady wave, and Satoru immediately pauses when you go slack beneath him and sink into the plush material of the couch. As he presses his lips in a reverent trail from your hip to your throat, pushing the baggy shirt you’re wearing up to clear his path, you relax even further.

You trust him. You love him.

Your fingers are still locked in his hair when you hear his quiet request beneath your ear: “Can I?”

It’s such a stupid, juvenile thing, but it’s something you’ve been denied in all the years of this… situation, so you nod, taking a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. Your pulse is thrumming with anticipation beneath his mouth, and the moment he clamps down hard enough to sting, he thrusts into your wet heat as blood pools beneath the fragile skin his tongue soothes over.

He does it again, decorating the dip of your collarbone as the spongy head of his dick kisses your cervix, and you’re limp, taking anything and everything he’s willing to give. Let him decorate you, claim you, fuck you until you’re incoherent, it doesn’t matter. Just as long as it’s him and he doesn’t stop.

“So wet…” he praises, groaning when his words cause you to tighten around him.

Always for you, you think as his tongue dives between your parted lips, the taste of yourself still lingering. The gentle way he cradles your jaw is the complete opposite of the speed of his hips battering into you. He’s chasing something he can’t quite reach, whether that be a sensation or an emotion you can’t tell, but he’s looking, willing himself to find this answer even if it kills him. Every stolen kiss seems to connect his wayward thoughts, but when he starts to whimper into your mouth and his pace begins to falter, you know the friction of his cock dragging along your walls has consumed him.

“I can’t–” he stammers when you lock your ankles on his lower back, tightening around him further, “Fuck, baby, that’s n-not helping.”

“Give it to me, Toru.” One last time. “Pl-please, I want it.”

There’s barely time to take a breath before you’re on your stomach, ass being pulled straight up into the air, his shaft filling your gaping hole so deep you can feel the pressure in your chest. Long, slender fingers find your swollen clit and being moving in steady, quick circles, and at this point all you can do is scream and cry out until he’s shooting hot, thick ropes of cum into your spasming cunt, your own orgasm ripping through you, leaving you boneless and drooling.

“Shit…” he pants, his phone vibrating on the table in what has to be a third attempt at a call in the last two minutes, “Gimme a second.”

The bedroom door closes as you slump down into a heap, the mess between your thighs getting sticky and uncomfortable as you adjust to the emptiness returning. It’s tempting to sneak out now, if it wasn’t for your current debauched state. You’re still so surrounded by him, the couch smells like his stupid cologne, your thighs are quivering, and you can still feel the tips of his fingers digging into your hips. Maybe you’ll never be free.

“Okay, princess,” he coos, lifting you off the couch bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom, “Quick shower then we gotta go.”

By four o'clock, you’re heading out the door, donned in a new dress accompanied by Satoru in sleek black pants and a silky black button-down, bag in hand. It’s an overnight bag, you can tell from the size and also because you caught him packing it in a rush. He hadn’t seen you, well, at least as far as you could tell, and as much as you wanted to believe he was heading out on a mission, you couldn’t convince yourself of it. The phone call he had to talk out of earshot, the fancy clothes he wore just to go tour some shitty apartment, the bag…you’re well aware of what it all means. You don’t even let the fact he’s opening your car door for you distract you from the knowledge he’ll be doing the exact same gesture to another tonight.

“Okay,” he sings out as he slides into the driver’s seat, “Ready to go?”

All you do is nod, keeping your eyes focused out your window.

“Why’re you so quiet?” he complains–whines–five minutes into the drive, “It’s boring.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest, “Where is this apartment?”

“What apartment?”

“The one we’re going to see?”

“Oh…riiiight. That apartment. You don’t really want to go look at that, do you?”

He can sense your anger bubbling in the cramped space, but he laughs when he looks over to find you staring daggers at him, nostrils flared.

Relax!” he chuckles, “So worked up over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Satoru!” you yell back, groaning when your body betrays you for a moment and relaxes when his hand falls to your inner thigh, his thumb rubbing softly up and down over your exposed skin, “My life is a wreck!”

“When hasn’t it been?”

“You arranged that apartment. And now we’re not going?” You have to change the subject before you combust.

“Well, you said I couldn’t pay for it, and you can’t pay for it. Not yet anyway–”

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder. So, what now then!?”

“Dinner!”

The car comes to a screeching halt outside of a ramen place, and you burst into tears.

“Hey…” He’s frantic, leaning over the center console to take your face in his hand, “Hey…no-no-no. Don’t do that.”

“What am I supposed to do?!” you scream at him, your cheeks already soaked and eyes swollen, “Just go in there and eat ramen like nothing is wrong!?”

“I mean…yeah. Why not?”

“Fuck you!”

It’s a battle when you try to get out of the car, his left hand continuously locking the doors as his right attempts to stop you from pulling at the handle at all. He’s grunting ‘stop’ and ‘listen’ and ‘calm down’ but his words fall on deaf ears.

“Why won’t you just let me go?!” you finally sob, both of you panting and flustered.

“Because…” he replies quietly, threading his fingers with yours, however unresponsive they are, “Will you stay in the damn car?”

You don’t answer, but you don’t move to leave either, and he takes that as confirmation. With a heavy sigh (and an empty stomach) he takes off down the road until you’re outside the city, finally pulling into a large gated property. Flowers surround you on all sides, and the sound of a fountain in a pond pairs serendipitously with the birds singing the sun away as it begins to dip closer to the horizon. The house nestled amongst the gardens is massive, winding paths of stone leading through the rainbows of blooms, and you can’t help but be entirely awestruck for a moment before confusion settles. Satoru opens the door with his keys, pulling you inside the manor that’s every bit as impressive on the inside as it is outside.

“Where are we?” you ask harshly, pulling your hand free of his.

“The Gojo Estate,” he answers so casually you want to throw a shoe at the back of his head.

“What are we doing here?”

“I’m showing you around. It beats Kento’s buddy’s apartment, dontcha think?”

Not even the coldest winds could have frozen you in place so quickly. He’s brought the overnight bag from the back of the car in with him, tossing it onto the kitchen counter before opening the fridge and grinning when he finds a bottle of strawberry soda waiting for him on the shelf.

“There’s more to the place than the foyer!” He’s moved out of sight now, but not far judging by how close he still sounds, “C’mere! Don’t be shy now.”

He’s waiting on a porch overlooking the pond you’d heard earlier, koi fish gently swimming in the clear water without a care in the world. If you’d thought the city suited him before, it was nothing compared to the sight of him framed by lush greenery and the unhindered glow of sunset. He looks every bit the part of clan head here, oozing authority and confidence as he leans with his back against the railing, smirking as you cautiously approach.

“What are we doing here?” you ask again, meek and quiet, all signs of anger gone.

“Giving you options,” he answers, gloating almost, but trepidation is still laced with what you recognize as false conviction.

“I can’t live here.”

“Why not?”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. I mean, you wouldn’t be living alone. No one should live alone here, that’s why I don’t. What if I slip in the shower and no one finds me for days? Ha! Could you imagine…”

“Satoru!”

Does he know what he’s asking? Does he know what it means? If it means nothing to him, fine, but you? The idea of it has you tensing and pushing back tears, your bottom lip trembling as you allow the fantasy of a home and a life to slip through the cracks forming in your barriers you keep it behind. His fingers are chilled from the glass bottle he’s been holding, the sharp contrast against your burning cheeks causing you to gasp and you’re met by infinite blue eyes staring down at you.

“Look,” he begins, his tongue darting out to wet his perfect pink pout, “I…” He sighs, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts, “Why didn’t you ask me to get you out of there sooner?”

The question hits you like a ton of bricks. You’d been asking yourself the same thing since it all blew up last night.

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” you answer truthfully, “If it’s not me, you have someone else–” “There is no one else. There never has been.”

“What?”

“There is no one else.”

No one else? His lips press softly against yours as you stand in stunned silence. All these years thinking you were second to twenty, and there had never been another?

“Say it again,” he breathes into your slackened jaw, and your brow furrows in confusion.

“What…” you blubber, meeting the galaxies living in his gaze once again.

“Tell me again.”

A tight grip on your wrist tugs your hand up to what remains of the braid still twisted in his hair from his nap earlier, you hadn’t realized it had survived both the shower and what transpired before it, but it had clearly held on tight. Too many thoughts buzz around in your head for you to comprehend what the hell he's asking for until he requests it one more time, his voice cracking like his life hinges on knowing if what he’d heard was real or a figment of his overactive imagination.

And then it clicks. Your heart comes to a skidding halt as fear runs cold through your veins, and you try to run but his arm curls around your waist, holding you in place.

“I…” your tongue is paralyzed, a phrase you’ve never uttered to another person knotting and twisting, “You were asleep.” It’s such a cop-out, and the way his face falls shatters your heart.

“Right, thought so,” he concedes, “Okay. Well, do you want to see–”

“I love you.”

The words spill out so suddenly you’re clasping your hands over your traitorous lips, the urge to flee burning in your legs, and he smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he leans in, pulling your wrist to free your shock-slackened lips from their cage, and kisses you.

This kiss is different. It’s softer, lingering, it’s the kind of kiss that welcomes you home after a long day and melts the toils and tribulations you faced away. While your hands shoot to the kitchen counter behind you and your knuckles go white in an iron-like grip, the tips of his fingers brush down your cheek so gingerly a shudder shoots down your spine. You’ve never been touched so softly, with so much…you can’t think it.

“Again,” he whispers, and you reply with those little three words in just as hushed a tone, “Again.”

With every repetition, the words fall with more grace and his smile grows. Your cheeks are burning, nerves fluttering to life in your belly, but when he asks for the fifth time to hear you say that phrase, you close the distance between your bodies, grab his jaw in both hands and finally with conviction you tell him the truth: “Satoru. I love you. I don’t kn—mmph!”

As quick as it is, the force of his lips crashing into yours is bruising. There’s nothing tactful about it, he just needs contact and he needs it now.

“Love you,” he murmurs, and you understand immediately the incessant nagging to hear those words over and over.

You know someone, at some point, had said that to you, but time has robbed you of the memory. This is the first time you can ever recall hearing it, and something breaks down inside of you faster than you can keep up with. His chest is there to collapse into as the tides roll in, tears pouring from your eyes as relief washes over your storm-stricken shores. The space carved out in his embrace fits you like a glove, your head tucked neatly below his cheek as he leans down to swaddle you in tight. You’re shaking and sobbing but this time he doesn’t ask you to stop, because he understands. It’s the same for him.

“Can we go to dinner now?” you sniffle, wiping your nose on the back of your hand, gazing up at him with glassy eyes.

“Nah,” he brushes off, “I’ll order something. There’s a shirt for you in the bag, take your pick.”

Donned in a t-shirt that hangs down to the middle of your thighs, you’re perched on the couch beside Satoru with a spread of food on the table before you once again. He puts on some movie but you aren’t paying attention, all you can concentrate on is trying to convince yourself it’s over. It’s done. You’re home. But too many years have passed, and it’ll take time.

“What, Yaga?” Satoru barks into his phone, “I’m not going…I’m not going…Find someone else.”

“What was that?” you ask as he tosses it away, looking over at you with eyes glowing in the dim light.

“Oh, a mission abroad. It usually goes to me but…”

There are more important things now.

“They can figure it out,” he chuckles with that signature aloof, pompous lilt, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in.

Maybe it won’t take as long to get used to this as you think.

Sorry this took so long!!!

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk smut

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lordsukunas · 9 months ago

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“i think forever would be nice with you.”

synop. kunigami wants to be with you for life.

tags. fem!reader (called ma’am once), fluff fluff fluff, uh a bit of angst if u really really really squint, reader is a tease and kind of a pessimist (or maybe a realistic idk up to u), kunigami is head over heels, dont ask when this would happen in canon bc idk, not proofread

note. ngl im tired asf... if this is incoherent, im sorry. the ending is vv awkward, mb. uhhhh man idk what else to say kunigami is the sweetest boy alive. this is inspired by one of those timtok slideshows, the one thing that app has done good forme

you flop back on the sand, chest heaving up and down from trying (and failing) to race kunigami. sweat rolls down the side of your face and neck, and you can feel the gritty sand clinging to your bare feet and legs.

“tired?” he plops down on the sand beside you and reaches for your hand. his larger, thicker fingers intertwine with yours, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, as if to comfort you after your shameful loss.

“very,” you huff out. your lungs burn as you gulp down air. “how do you— how do you do this every week?”

he shrugs. “habit. started when i was kid, found it fun, so i kept doing it. helps me stay in shape whenever i don’t wanna go to the gym or just need some time alone.”

his free finger doodles the face of a polar bear in the sand. you smile — it’s cute how he knows how to draw that from memory.

your eyes roll to look at him. his face is shiny with sweat, and the pale moonlight softens his features, giving kunigami almost a boyish look.

there’s no one else here. just you, kunigami, and the sounds of the waves lapping against each other and the shore. the beach is clean, too. not a crumpled beer can or a plastic wrapper in sight.

“does anyone else even know this place exists?” there’s that familiar teasing lilt in your voice, but he knows you��re serious.

he scratches the back of his head. “nah. i mean, there’s the occasional fisherman or maybe some elderly couple, but i don’t think anyone our age knows about this.”

“huh.”

a pause, and the warm breeze blows across your skin, dusting the sand away.

you grin. “so you’re just gonna gatekeep this for eternity, huh?”

“what? no!” you can practically feel his cheeks heating up from here. “i didn’t wanna ruin it by bringing the wrong people here, y’know? they might trash it or somethin’.”

“and what if i trash it?”

“you won’t.” kunigami’s reply is instant, the words shooting out of his mouth and into the night’s atmosphere. “you’re special.”

whatever goofy reply you had on your tongue instantly melts, and you’re pretty sure your heart skips a beat or two. how can he say such romantic things so... so casually?

“i, uh...” he sighs and goes back to tracing shapes in the sand, his hand still holding on tightly to yours. “you wouldn’t do something like that. even if you did, i’ll be right there to clean it up.”

you push yourself up so that you’re sitting criss-cross. your entire body is facing him now. “but what if we break up? or you move away?”

“i won’t. we won’t.”

your brows knit together. “rensuke, you don’t know that.”

something is bound to happen. something always happens. nothing good lasts forever, right? he’s in blue lock, dedicating weeks at a time to train and play in tournaments to be the world’s best striker — at some point, he’s going to have to choose. you or his football career.

even to yourself, you sound pessimistic. but you just have to be honest with yourself. life isn’t a fairytale, despite kunigami being your knight in shining armor.

“i want forever with you.”

his gaze meets yours, determination burning in auburn irises. “i’m not gonna sit here and lie to you or be embarrassed about it, ‘cause it’s true.”

you blink, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

kunigami, your boyfriend of two years, wants forever with you.

it’s ridiculous, fantastical, a hundred other synonymous terms. both of you are seventeen — you have decades and decades ahead of you to decide when you want and who you’re going to spend forever with.

and he chose you.

his adam’s apple bobs, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “do you want forever with me?” his grip on your hand tightens.

“yeah.”

you don’t have to think about it. there’s nothing to think about it. it’s dumb and unrealistic, sure, but when has kunigami ever broken a promise? when has he ever lied to you?

it doesn’t take decades of being together to know that kunigami loves you with all of his heart, and you love him just the same.

your lips curl into a smile, and you can’t tell whether your vision is getting blurry from happy or sad tears. “i want forever with you.”

“okay.” he adjusts himself so that, now, both of you are facing each other. his shins touch yours, and his other hand grabs yours.

“‘okay’? that’s it? after you basically just proposed to me?” you raise an eyebrow. “with no ring, either! you could’ve gotten me a ring pop.”

kunigami chuckles, the tension seeping out of his bulky form. “sorry. i’ll get you a ring pop on the way back.”

“two ring pops, actually, and they better be the right flavor.”

“yes, ma’am.”

#﹒writing #blue lock #blue lock fluff #bllk #bllk fluff #blue lock kunigami #bllk kunigami #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #kunigami rensuke #kunigami x reader #kunigami x you #kunigami rensuke x reader #kunigami rensuke x you

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mythicmin · 2 years ago

Text

Overwatch NSFW Alphabet(s)

MDNI!! If you are under the age of 18, please DNI. Character requests are OPEN. Just slide into my ask box and specify which character you’d like to see :)

𝑱𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆 𝑴𝒄𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒆 / 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒚

A = Aftercare ;

McCree is a firm believer in aftercare. Chances are you aren’t getting up to do ANYTHING for at least an hour. (unless he has somewhere he needs to rush to.) Need to pee? He’s gonna carry you. Thirsty? Hungry? Give him a second, he’ll be right back with your favorite drink/snack.

B = Body part ;

You can’t look me dead in my eyes and tell me he isn’t an ass man. He’s practically obsessed with it. Doesn’t matter where you’re at or who you’re with, chances are he’s got his hand on your ass or in your back pocket.

C = Cum ;

Bro is definitely a slut for facials if he can’t cum inside of you. There’s just something possessive about it, like he’s marking you as his.

D = Dirty secret ;

Secretly wants to get topped, cmon he’s a cocky little shit. Put him in his place and make him beg for you. ❤︎︎

E = Experience ;

I am a firm believer in thinking he’s got some kind of old fashioned way of thinking. He knows what he likes, but doesn’t have much experience with it. I know we all love fuckboy McCree, but him being a virgin makes me giggle.

F = Favorite position ;

Doggie. Need I say more?

G = Goofy ;

Bro is a whole clown in bed and you can’t change my mind. He knows how to act serious when need be, but he always wants to see you smile. Even if he’s balls deep in you.

H = Hair ;

I think he manscapes a bit, he’s never bare though. There’s always some sort of hair framing his cock, clean shaven just isn’t his style.

I = Intimacy ;

Lil western baby treats you like the princess/prince you are. Sure he loves fucking your brains out, but making love to you is another favorite past time.

J = Jack off / Masterbate ;

I don’t really know to be honest, I feel like he’d think he’s too busy to get himself off. But maybe it’s just hidden cockiness that only you can get him off.

K = Kink ;

Anal. I know this man eats ass as well. I just know it. Bro also definitely has a daddy kink. (or maybe that’s bc i’m projecting bc he’s so fine.)

L = Location ;

Anywhere.

M = Motivation ;

He really gets going when you slowly touch his arms/chest while making eye contact.

N = No ;

Sadly, threesomes. I think he’s just too possessive.

O = Oral ;

He loves both giving and receiving, but he enjoys making you fall apart with his mouth. Playing with that cigar should’ve warned you he was gonna be a beast with his tongue.

P = Pace ;

Whichever you want. He can deliver both fast or slow.

Q = Quickie ;

Loves them. Especially if y’all are out and about doing something.

R = Risk ;

He literally doesn’t care if y’all get caught with him balls deep in you.

S = Stamina ;

I feel like he cums fairly fast, but can go for a few rounds.

T = Toys ;

He’s iffy on them. He wants to be the one to make you feel good, but watching you thrash against the vibrator he’s holding gets him feeling some typa way.

U = Unfair ;

He’s so mean sometimes, bro is a WHOLE ASS tease and he knows it.

V = Volume ;

I don’t feel like he’s overly loud in the moaning or groaning criteria, but he’s definitely a smooth talker blowing your back in.

W = Wild card ;

Pull his hair while he’s giving you head and bro is putty in your hands.

X = X-ray ;

6” soft , a lil over 7” hard. (circumcised)

Y = Yearning ;

I SWEAR THIS MAN CAN TURN HIS SEX DRIVE OFF AND ON DEPENDING ON HOW MUCH OF A COCKY BASTARD HE WANTS TO BE.

Z = Zzz ;

Always waits until you’re asleep first.

god i love this man.

hope you enjoyed!! lmk who y’all wanna see next ! ❤︎︎

#overwatch x reader #overwatch #overwatch smut #mccree #cole cassidy #jesse mccree #cole cassidy x reader #jesse mccree x reader #mccree x reader #cassidy x reader

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thewriterg · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐀𝐛𝐜𝐬

pairing(s);hobie brown x fem!reader, hobie brown x male!reader

summary; you see the title!

word count; around 2k

warning(s); everyone mentioned is 19+, smut.

A/n;—GIFs; @cowboysfuck— The debates going down with the age of everyone in atsv has me shaking in my boots so just know Hobie is a good and legal yummy adult in this 💀

🕷️Aftercare

Being completely and totally honest, babe he’s not cleaning you up.

I know the truth hurts but we have to stop the lies :(

If you meet him at one of his sets or the pub something like that? He’s viewing it as a quick fuck

He’s. A. Whore.

I mean we all seen that slutty ass waist right!?

He’s ran through! 😔

but I’m gonna feed into just a little 🤏🏽

If you happen to be in a relationship/fuck buddies he’s definitely a little more caring

After you both finish hes spooning you pawing his loads back in your cunt when it begins to seep out while lying kisses and bites up you shoulder that will darken by sunrise

Or you’re on top of him your cock slightly twitching inside of him acting as a plug so none of your cum is leaving him hes definitely panting feeling so full of you you as your head rest in the crook of his neck him rubbing his palm over your head down the nape of your neck

He’ll throw the blankets over you both maybe give you some water from the water bottle that sat on his nightstand for a week

🕷️Body Part

Hobies favorite part of you isn’t a body part but your beliefs!

Everyone’s entitled to their own opinions he supports that much BUT

If you can have your own opinion and stand on it!!?

like could see the opposing sides argument take it into consideration and still go to war for your own personal value

On his knees.

He’s that one viral sound where’s its like;

“And I’ll be there for them. With open arms, open legs, and a open mouth 🙂”

Is definitely dropping to his knees to give you head in the next fifteen minutes no matter where

The wrap up of todays lesson he’s just not into shallow people

His favorite part of himself however is his hands more specifically his fingers

If he need to learn a faster tempo place for a song he’s trying to learn you’re going to be his study buddy

“You’re helpin’ me so much thanks lovie” He muttered his index and middle fingers working at a god like pace in and out of your holes beginning to work you up to three as you tried to blink the dots out of your vision moaning at a pitch

He finally got down the song <3

🕷️Cum

Anywhere on your body where he can visibly see

For my girls he’s definitely going for the boobs he’s a tittie man!

For the guys he’s still going for your chest/stomach area

Cum on his face!

Soon there will not be a drop left

hes gonna be that “I eat it all” cat meme

“Gonna c-cum on you’re pretty fucking face, you fucking s-slut” You’re groaning while he’s looking up at you with his big puppy eyes your clit bumping against his nose or when his mouth finally reaches the base of your angry cock whining against the length massaging your balls while being hard as a rock himself a puddle of pre cum resting on his abs

🕷️Dirty Secret

HES A SWITCH.

Goes perfectly with the whole not believing in consistency

I can’t picture Hobie sticking to one roll anyway 💀

I will gladly die on that hill alone if I have to I don’t care.

One day he’s bending you over in a alleyway forcing your hands on a brick wall muttering about how much of a fucking whore you are for dressing in that wife beater your nipple poking through the thin fabric and getting him hard

Next day he’s pathetically humping your loafer/heel under your desk while you have a meeting on your laptop above muffling his loud whine against your leg before you feel his tears on your leg when you shrug your foot away from his aching cock ruining his orgasm

Take this with a grain of salt if you please

But-

You can not sit up here and tell me him and his band members haven’t fucked at least once

This band specifically! Turn down your volume 😟

LIKE!?

that story however is for another day

He has a dick piercing.

A Prince Albert one maybe?

He did it himsel

“Feel tha’ cold ‘ittle bar in your pretty ‘ole?” He would groan pressing down on your abdomen where he can feel himself bottoming out of you before thrusting in deeper than humanly possible grabbing your jaw forcing you to stare into each others soul as he fucks you deep

🕷️Experience

He’s is/was a whore depending on your relationship

He’s ran through, passed around, fucked out.

Loves when you show you’ll always be his best though

“Can’t hear you speak up whore” You hissed wrapping your hand around his neck lifting him up causing his back to arch pleasure painfully as you stop ramming into his hole causing him to whimper as you cock/strap stills in him

“No one f-fucks me like you do, please” He’s whining pathetically moaning in relief when you continue abusing his hole tears slipping past his eyes down to his cheeks

🕷️Favorite position

#1 Missionary!

It’s where either of you can get the deepest

“Look a tha’ feel me in your fuckin’ belly?” He would groan taking one of your hands pressing it against your abdomen as his cock moves in and out of you slowly hitting you spot repeatedly with your ankles crossed against his back

#2 Spooning

Has a lot of lazy mornings of when he’s waking up hard

You happened to already have the same idea 🙀

(#1 somno partaking couple)

Hobie would whimper in his sleep as he felt something warm around his cock and pressure on his lap of you backing up into him wouldn’t wake up until about the third time you’d lower down

In the mornings/where he doesn’t really have a sense on mobility or surrounding is where you’d easily pull the most noises from him

“You feel s-so good, so good birdy”

He’s cumming quick.

🕷️Goofy

Other than like a crack of a smirk?

I’m not really getting a goofy vibe from Hobie

Probably would just tease the fuck out of each other

🕷️Hair

HE HAS A HAPPY TRAIL.

His hair down there is curly and coarse he’ll trim it every once in a while but other than that doesn’t really bother

Most definitely does not give a flying fuck if you decide to shave or not

“Maybe another night ‘bee I didn’t get to shave”

And he’s just like

🤨.

≥))≥

| \_

“Your point?”

🕷️Intimacy

The thought makes him cringe internally

He can get down with it though but it’s mostly saved for important dates like anniversaries, birthdays, achievements, etc.

If you aren’t that intimate of a person that’s even better

But sometimes just take the time out to pull him aside slipping your hands down his jeans and into his boxers gently stroking his cock running your thumb over his slit whispering about how proud you are of him

“You’ve been doing so well I’m so proud of you”

DIHERHBRRIDIN he’s brain dead you murdered his brain into mush

🕷️Jack off

Will when he’s on a mission that takes longer than expected will probably take a video muttering how much he misses you while stroking his aching cock

But something else?

He can be a good boy when he wants

Put a cockring on him tell him if he lasts all day he can get a reward?

Struggling hard asf but will not touch himself cause what’s better than being your good boy!? ‼️🦅

🕷️Kink

Probably almost everything in the damn book but here are his mains

#1; Praise/Degradation

Just the right amount of both driving everyone up the wall

“Look at you takin’ my cock like a fuckin’ champ, that’s wha’ sluts do isn’t that right?” He mutters flash light kissing your skin as he records you on his phone pushing the back of your head down on his dick as you gag around the bask saliva and precum all around your mouth and cheeks

#2; Slapping/Spanking

I’m getting heavy rag doll vibes

Will purposely get you rilled up and jealous before slipping away before you can reach him essentially a game of cat and mouse

when you finally catch him you’re grabbing him by the back of his neck to a bathroom or alleyway

“You wanna be a fucking whore I’ll show you what they get” You hissed and he’s more than aroused as you pull down his trousers him thinking he was about to get the roughest railing/fingering of his life just for you to land a harsh slap on his ass!?

Rock hard.

“Please ‘m sorry, please” Would end up crying cause it hurt yet felt so good

brain was foggy asf

When you deemed it enough for now you pulled his pants back up dragging him back to whatever function you were at ignoring his subtle gestures to get you both back to his side place

You force his ass to go sit tf down somewhere 💪🏽‼️🦅

Smirking like a mf when you watch him subtly groan feeling the distance stinging pain on his ass while trying to get through the conversation

#3; Being/having a cum dump

This is kinda icky for some people and I get it so read with caution ⚠️

Not only is he going to fill you up!? He’s going to plug you up .

Will literally make you go out all day with your cum in him

If you’re a spidey?

Will have your walking around the spider society looking a bit “bloated” little does everyone know you’re literally plugged with Hobies loads

Or when you’re at home will come behind you and rub his palms over your full belly

Feral.

But sometimes he need to be check so switch the roles

How this would happen is, he would talk big shit and place a bet of who was gonna cum first when both of you had a vibrator pressed against your designated places

He lost.

Would definitely try to hit you with that “I don’t believe in loosing 🙄” shit

But

A bet is a bet

And so

For a whole 24 hours both of you having to go on a mission that day he had dildo shoved up his ass

It’s very funny seeing him slightly limp when he walks as the fake cock sits snugly in his ass kissing his prostate at any slight turn or bumb in the road or when he turns the corner too sharply while swinging

by the end of the day HES DEAD.

would definitely do it again

🕷️Location

Boobs.

🕷️Motivation

When you hype yourself up or carry yourself with confidence!?

Hobies like

🗣️ “SIGN ME TF UP!”

Gets off on it so quick

🕷️No

This might be a little controversial and me self projecting but

Do not pull his hair.

His wicks are very delicate and as POC Caribbean native/Black to be specific not a big fan when it comes to messing with our hair

Scratch his back, slap him, spank him, choke him, anything else but pulling his hair.

🕷️Oral

Oral fixation

On some rough nights where he can’t sleep!? His moth will end up on your clit/cock

Is a Cock/Pussy drinker!

Holds down your thighs when you cum and he keeps going to keep you from retreating or bucking your hips

Gives head for his own pleasure tbh

🕷️Place

EVERYWHERE

Will fuck you anywhere and everywhere grinning like the god damn chesire cat

We’re gonna get more into this in ‘Risk’

🕷️Quickie

Absolutely

Behind stage before he goes on will without a doubt have you propped up against something fingering you at an alarming rate

“Gotta make sure my fingers don’t cram up yeah?”

🕷️Risk

What we’ve all been waiting for 🙀

You’ve probably fucked all over London and New York if you’re a spidey person lmao

One of the most jaw dropping places you’ve both had sex was probably the top of an abandoned building as the sun was beginning to set

“See tha’? Almost looks as pretty as you lovie” Hobie muttered thrusting his cock into your hole as your hands grip onto the railing moaning breathlessly before he groans from behind

Then probably an alley

“Shut up before you get us caught, but you would like that wouldn’t you?” You hissed your back pressed against the cold stone wall while Hobie thrusted into you hips bucking occasionally letting out a too loud whine

If you’re a spidey you’re really just talking because your senses would guide you to when someone’s coming or not

Hobie usually is able to sense it to but he’s seems too fucked out to even care

ONCE YALL DID IT IN A POOL BATHROOM!?

“Baby we can’t there’s to many kids around here”

Hobie is the #1 🗣️ “FUCK THEM KIDS” cheerleader

Does not, will not, still can’t not seem to give a single fuc-

🕷️Sext

Yes

You have made him cut band practice short more times he cares to count

‘3 attachments 1 video’ just something to get you through until practice is over <3

IS GETTING TF ON

Coming home to you with a pep in his step

He has and will send you videos of him jerking himself off when either of you are on missions or if you’re at work

“See how fuckin’ hard I am for you birdy? Cock misses you s’much we need you” You can hear his gruff voice cracking behind the camera as he strokes his cock running his thumb over his slit

He will send you whimper audios once every blue moon

anyways both of you guys are yummy!

🕷️Toys

Yes, yes, and yes

I have plenty examples already

So we’re just going to leave this as yes

…

Tbh he has a fuckin VARIETY

Stop I need to go now 😔✋🏽

🕷️Unfair

The biggest fucking tease ever

If you can keep up with him it’s for the greater good if you can’t, you must be left to the wolves 😖

One time you came home from Work/patrol tired as ever and he was on you the minute you were in the door

“Not tonight hon I’m too tired” You muttered taking your shoes off my the door followed along by your jacket etc

“I’ll do the work you can just flop down and star fish it out” You we static at the thought

Just for this mf to deny you at least four time before you fucking lost it flipped positions shoving his face in the mattress all tiredness out the window

“Said you were gonna take fucking care of me but since you wanna be a little whore we’ll see how you like it”

It was a long night

🕷️Volume

Hobie can be very vocal when he wants Mewls, moans, cries, whimpers, whines you name it

He knows his sounds get you off but sometimes he’ll be an asshole brat and keep them from you

But you’ll fix that shit up real quick I believe in you!

🕷️Wild Card

HIM AMD HIS BAND FUCKED/FUCKS.

🕷️X ray

He’s definitely a shower!

7.5 inches 8 when he’s hard

🕷️Yes

Mark him up

Hickeys, hand prints, bruises he needs it all

Does the same for you

Especially if you’re a spidey the bruises won’t stay long with your inhuman abilities

So y’all are running back to each other when they quickly begin to fade

🕷️Zzz

Hobie thinks he’s nocturnal

He’s not sleeping on the normal night so he’s not really sleepy on a intimate one either before he met you

Only time he’s really knocked is if he was in a subier space

Which he’s commonly in

So you’re putting him to sleep one way or another

💌💌💌💌

Oh wow funny seeing you here after two weeks 😅

I have so many drafts of my baby Hobs

Anyway if you could answer the poll down below much would be appreciated!

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brainrot #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #spider punk #spider punk smut #atsv smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #romance #fluff #smut #fem!reader #male!reader #gn!reader #i love you #geegeeisawhoreontherun #thewriterg #2023

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rainbowchaox · 1 year ago

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QSMP! Phil Character Analysis and How It Relates to Pissa

Okay so this is primarily coming from my tired thoughts in the discord run by the true pissa general aka @pepper-mintzyy. I’m gonna flesh it out here with much more detail.

I first came to this whole analysis because Phil always makes subtle characters. Most of his characters don’t verbalize what his motives or emotions. And his characters are always on the show not tell. And this is important because this trait of our his characters is the same in Qsmp!Phil and it’s a important to realize how this is so important to the pissa ship as whole . Because it’s literally why cubito Phil reacts the way he does towards those he especially loves (Aka Missa)

Phil loves to be subtle with his characters. Like I said above he is a show not tell with his characters. Usually his characters are layered and complicated. So much so he is never really honest with his own emotions. Primarily as a way to make sure he is ready for the next threat. The next enemy. He worries so much for the possibilities of danger he feels he can’t be distracted by emotions. He rather repress emotions then those he loves and cares for actually be in danger because he couldn’t get his emotions in check.

So knowing this of course he got paired with Missa whose emotions bleed out like ink. For the better or for the worse (Maybe I will eventually do a twin analysis on Missa character and how it relates to the pissa ship on a later date.)

And this is unknown territory for Philza. Because Philza as a character is always in survival mode. Sure Missa is emotional and illogical at times. But Missa is kind and gentle. And Philza is not used to this. But Missa as a person brings calm and comfort. Philza doesn’t feel like he could be in fight any minute when he is with Missa. Sure Missa can’t protect him in terms of fighting mobs. But Philza doesn’t need him to do so. Philza just wants him there.

So of course Philza will start to see Missa differently. And I think he knows he loves Missa. Philza isn’t dumb to his own feelings. He just can’t bring himself to say it verbally in case of possible danger. It’s hard for him to do things that go against his idea of being ready, of being strong, of being able to not be weak. Even if his perceived weakness is actually a strength.

So his love for Missa primarily comes out in loyalty, of waiting for him to come back when anybody else would have given up, in gifts, and in simple gestures that look like nothing but is actually everything. In the fact he matched his backpack to fit Missa. The fact he was so worried about him when he came back. I truly believe he knows he loves Missa. But whether it’s the paranoia or stubbornness he can’t bring himself to show that fact so clearly.

He isn’t a idiot. He isn’t emotionless. He knows who he hates. Who annoys him. And who he loves. But showing that emotional side out in the open. To others who might use that fact against him to harm those he loves. He can’t have that.

So he never says I love you in words. He says I love you with new armor. He says I love you bandaging wounds. He says I love you watching your blind spot and protecting you in battle. He says I love you by giving you his utmost loyalty. A gift hardest to get and the hardest to lose. And maybe he never says I love you to Missa in words.

That doesn’t mean he loves Missa any less. They are equal in their adoration. Philza emotions are a flame under the ice. Intense in passion and loyalty. I think a part of him is scared of his own emotions. And it probably took him ages to get to a point where he could control the pyre so to speak.

But he is just a person. And people are all selfish to a point. He is a brewing contradiction of a man. He wants both worlds. He wants to proclaim he loves Missa on top of a mountain. He want’s everyone to be jealous of him and Missa. He wants a true commitment.

But also we wants safety, he wants logic, He wants not to be weak and to protect without being overwhelmed by his own emotions. He is a complicated contradiction of a man. And his actions hurt him more than anything. He wants to be with Missa so badly but he can’t bring himself to fully let himself. But the fact is he adores Missa. He will possibly do anything for Missa and his family. And maybe one day he can see. He can be the protector and have Missa in the way he actually wants. That he so called WEAKNESS might be his greatest strength. That loving someone doesn’t mean he will lose them right after. He loves Missa. And he fully want to scream that fact.

#qsmp #pissa #Deathduo #shipping #PEPPER look what you made me do #pissa newspaper

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caufield193 · 9 months ago

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Just being honest here but I am trying so hard to not hate Judith… not because I hate her but because of all these yt feminist who only started liking her because RJ exist. It’s hilarious how they use her to hide their racism. Idk if it’s just me, but anytime someone says anything untrue but harmful about Rj, no one bats an eyelash… there are literal hashtags of people bullying the real kid but that’s okay. His Instagram is filled with folks calling him the N word.Yet the moment someone says something true about judith, who is FICTIONAL!!! NOT A REAL HUMAN BEING.( her not being ricks, and being the product of Shane ) man they get soooo upset… and we all know why!

Rick wanted RJ… this isn’t the same for Judith, but he learned to love her.

RJ is ricks legacy, and Judith is not. Yt feminist are accustomed to seeing themselves as wanted, as desired, and when a melanated little boy was desired and planned for, and not the child of a love affair between a white Baby mama and her baby daddy… their true colors show. Historically and stereotypically, a baby mama was a black woman begging to be free… except Michonne is so loved, and chosen, and declared to be the love of ricks life. So often, a black woman has a baby with no support, a baby by a different man, yet Rick truly wanted and planned for his little namesake. Michonne was content, Rick is the one who Wanted RJ. So when you have a flipped narrative where Lori, a white woman is the baby mama to Shane, bringing a white child to Rick that by yt feminist standards, Rick should want her and not have mixed feelings like we saw him have in the beginning, considering he couldn’t even look at Judith when she was first born. (considering that a normal human would have a hard time accepting a child that will forever remind you of how shitty your wife and best friend were) usually it would be a black child in Judith’s shoes, but it’s not. Rick has two kids, and the black one was wanted, planned for in a two parent and healthy home that wasn’t toxic, unlike Judith, who comes from a background usually associated with blackness

They use exscuses like, “ he’s not badass he doesn’t do anything like Carl .” But let’s be honest. RJ is 7… we’ve never seen Carl that young.. yet we’ve seen Judith at Carls age, and yet she hasn’t done anything remotely cool like Carl. So if anyone’s got plot armor it’s her… or they’ll say, RJ had awkward lines, when his made the most sense as he always considered his father the brave man. That is the only thing he knew him as.

Listen, I love how Michonne loves Judith because she truly adopted her, not because she had to but because she wanted to…. But I am so happy that Rick, a white man who married a black woman wants his biracial son, cared about his personality, and not just whether he was alive or not, because it really is making these dude bros upset… and yt feminist

It’s the fact that you can make fun of any child on the show, but god forbid you make fun of Judith or say something that’s the true, it’s the end of the world… a hit dog gonna holler

Have you ever noticed.. it’s okay to say RJ doesn’t deserve the hat… despite him being a grimes. It’s okay to say “RJ live execution.” It’s okay to say that RJ is lame and weak, despite him being 7. But if you point out that Rick has a hard time accepting Judith in the beginning, if you point out that he dreams of Carl and Michonne to stay alive at the CRM, but dreaming of Judith never even crossed him mind… if you point out that everytime Rick asked about Judith it was only to ensure that she was alive… which is on brand considering he told Michonne, “ I had to accept that… so I could keep her alive.” Not so he could love her or bond with her… if you point out all these little nuggets that shows that Rick, a fictional man, struggled to accept a fictional child that will forever carry the DNA of Shane and Lori… suddenly every yt feminist within two mile radius becomes triggered.. I’m just sick of it. Truly I hope there is a S2, where RJ is older and more marketed… purely just to piss certain people off.

#richonne #rj grimes #rick and michonne #michonne

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sentientcave · 2 months ago

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Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Read on AO3

Chapter 3- Busted

<Prev Chapter -

Contains: OC x Gaz, Lorelai "Rory" "Scout" Blackmoore-Price, Age gap romance (Scout is roughly 25), Annoying old men, Schemes and Plots, Mentions of John Price's many divorces, Poor decisions, alcohol mention, embarrassing conversations with a parent, Brandon (Derogative), Inadvisable Flirting x2 electric boogaloo, Gaz does not know what he wants and he makes it everyone elses problem

~6.4k - 18+ Only - MDNI

“Mornin’, Scout. Goin’ for a run?”

Rory screwed the top onto her water bottle and turned slowly, frowning at Gaz. He was, for some unfathomable reason, dressed for a run himself, and grinning a little too widely. “Uh. Yeah.”

“I’ll join you.” Not even an ask, just an statement. “See if you can keep up with me.”

Rory really didn’t like the purr of suggestion in his voice. That spelled trouble. “Listen, you—”

“Good morning,” John said, clapping Gaz on the shoulder as he came into the kitchen. He gave Scout a half hug and kissed the top of her head.

“When did you get in?” Rory asked. “I didn’t hear the door.”

“Late. Things didn’t work out with Carrie, so I went back to base to do some paperwork and debrief Soap and the kids when they got in.” He shrugged. “Go have your run, if you’re feelin’ nosy I’ll tell you over breakfast when you get back.”

“Alright. I’m probably not going to feel nosy, but I look forward to you telling me anyway. Be back in an hour or so.” Rory pushed past Gaz and headed for the door. He followed close on her heels, like he was worried that she’d take off without him if he didn’t. Which was fair, because she would have skipped her warm-ups and taken off if it meant shaking him loose.

She shot him a glare from between her legs when she dipped down to touch her toes. He was very openly ogling her, hands on his hips.

“Do you mind?” she asked.

He grinned, entirely “No. I don’t mind at all.”

“What’s your problem?” she asked. “You’re all over the place.” She didn’t wait for a response before she bounded away, light on her feet.

Gaz leapt into action, quickly catching up, setting a pace that looked infuriatingly easy beside her. She resisted the urge to run full out so early, before her muscles were fully warmed up, but it was so tempting when Gaz opened his mouth again. “Look, there’s obviously something here. Neither of us wants there to be, but I think it’s pretty hard to deny at this point.”

“There isn’t. Could you try not to imprint on the only woman in your immediate vicinity? You’re embarrassing yourself.”

He laughed, shaking his head, but he dropped it, blessedly, until she stopped for a water break at her usual halfway point. He motioned for her to toss him the water bottle.

“Why didn’t you bring your own?”

“Aw, come on Scout, didn’t we learn our lesson about sharing last night?”

“Apparently not! I think the lesson was that we shouldn’t or Ghost will point a gun at your head. I don’t want your old man germs anyway.”

“I’m not afraid of Ghost.”

“Then you fell out of one too many helicopters,” she snapped, but she handed over the water bottle anyway. It was too early to get into an argument.

“There’s a good girl,” he said.

“Garrick, I’m going to kill you if you keep that up.”

“You could try. You gonna come out with us tonight? Soap’s back with the rest of the kids, and we always go out for drinks. You’d get on with ‘em.”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“With Soap and Ghost there to keep an eye on us? I think you’ll be just fine.”

“I’ll think about it. Might see what Bill’s up to. I’d rather hang out with her, if I’m being honest.”

He handed back the water, shrugging. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to. Just thought I should offer.”

“I’ll think about it. Now come on. I need a coffee before I can deal with any more nonsense from you.” She tucked the water back into her sling bag and hit the road again, looking very forward to getting into the shower and getting a moment alone. He was going to be a pain in the arse if he kept this up.

John was, as always, drinking his coffee and smoking a cigar when they returned. Scout hit the ground to do her usual stretches, and Gaz headed straight in for a shower.

“You two gettin’ on alright?” John asked. “You look a bit sour.”

“He’s just—” Scout thought about what she could say that wouldn’t get either her or Gaz in trouble. “He’s just an interruption to my routine. I’ll adjust.”

“Got a routine, do you?” John asked. “Not just layin’ about?”

Rory rolled her eyes. “Dad. You know I’m not. I’m a Blackmoore-Price, we don’t know how to do nothing. I literally just published a new book yesterday. Do not ask to read it.”

“That’s five now, and you still won’t let me read them?” John asked. “Has Sadie read them?”

She grimaced. If he knew that her mum hadn’t just read them, but read first drafts and advised her, he’d start getting a lot more insistent. “No,” she lied. “Mum’s too busy to read my silly little stories.” Another lie. Sadie always made time for her.

John made an unconvinced noise. “Scout, I just want to support you. You should let me.”

“It’s just embarrassing. I’ll think about it, okay? You can read my next one. Even the rough draft if you want, it’s kind of a spy thriller, you might like it. I was going to try publishing it under my own name and everything.” Rory grinned. “And mom hasn’t read that one at all.”

John hummed, blue eyes sharp. “I thought you said she hadn’t read any of them.”

Busted. “Yeah, alright, she has.”

“I thought as much. If you don’t let me read the rest I’m going to get nosy, and you won’t like that.” He pointed his cigar at her, the threat meant lightly, but serious enough that Scout knew he meant business. He was already a nosy old man and thought that was normal, if he was going to get what he considered nosy then Scout would have zero privacy. Not ideal for a grown woman living with a parent.

“Fuck. Fine. I’ll drop them on your desk. Do not speak to me about them. I don’t think I can handle the embarrassment. I’ve a delicate constitution.”

“No you don’t. Thank you, pumpkin.”

Rory rolled her eyes and pushed herself back up onto her feet. “If I die from humiliation it’ll be all your fault.”

He hummed, shaking his head with amusement. “Go get changed, I’m making pancakes.”

Rory bounced up the stairs, reaching the top just as Gaz exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. He was unfairly fit, lean and muscled like a classical statue carved by a very loving hand. The few scars that marred his skin only made him look better, adding a dangerous edge to an almost too perfect body. She dragged her eyes off the bead of water that slid down his chest before it reached far enough to get her in real trouble.

“Put some fucking clothes on!” she hissed.

“I’m about to. You worried you like what you see?”

“I’m worried that you’re a whore, Garrick! Get out of my sight!” Rory whirled around and firmly shut herself in her own room, grimacing. Maybe she should move back to London. At least there she wouldn’t have to worry about this.

She’d have to worry about other things, of course, like the press and the events and the lack of freedom. Out here, even with an overbearing father and his stupid protective friends, she could do a lot more without anyone bothering her about it.

She had a quick shower once she heard Gaz head downstairs, and got fully dressed before she left the bathroom. She wasn’t even going to risk a repeat of last night. Gaz was never going to catch her half-dressed ever again, that was for sure.

“Alright, what happened with Carrie?” Rory asked, throwing herself into one of the island chairs, leaving two seats between her and Gaz, just in case. “You’d been trying to get her to go out for ages.”

John wrinkled his nose. “Turned out she was usin’ me to make her ex jealous. Found out as much when he stormed into her flat when we were havin’ a drink. Didn’t need to be asked to go more’n once.”

“What a bitch,” Rory said, turning a small narrow-eyed glance at Gaz so he knew that her next words were meant for him too. “That’s just childish.”

“Well. It is what it is. How’s your mother doing, Scout?”

“Dad. You can’t keep throwing yourself at mom every time it doesn’t work out with someone else.”

“I suppose she hasn’t changed her mind anyway. Sadie’s even more stubborn than I am.” John handed Scout a mug of coffee and a plate of blueberry pancakes. “Just miss her. She never played games like this.”

“Thanks dad. And honestly, you need to meet someone nice, someone that doesn’t know you as Captain or Major Price, that you can just be, you know, yourself with. Maybe someone without any ex husbands. You have more than enough marital baggage for two people.”

John laughed. “You know anyone?”

“No! I am absolutely not going through that again. My friends are off limits.”

Gaz snickered. “You dated one of her friends?”

“She was older!” John said defensively. “She was a TA for one of Scout’s classes, and they lived together for a bit so we met— That’s besides the point. I’m not the one who’s love life we should be talkin’ about.” He looked at Gaz. “You got a game plan for Billie yet?”

“Not yet. Gonna give her some space, let her realize she misses me. Maybe I’ll bump into her at the grocery store or coffee shop, if I’m lucky.” Gaz dug into his own pancakes and chewed thoughtfully. “But I’m not going out of my way. Might try going on a few dates myself, honestly. Maybe Bill was right. We had a good run. Maybe we should call it.”

“You’re just gonna let her go without a fight?” John asked, sitting down with his own stack of pancakes. “That’s not like you.”

“No offense sir, but I don’t want to be sittin’ where you are down a few years down the line, still chasin’ an ex-wife who doesn’t love me. Maybe I should start lookin’ for someone new.”

“Sadie still loves me. It’d be easier to let her go if she didn’t. It doesn’t all just go away because you sign a few papers.”

“Sometimes people can’t give each other what they need. Love isn’t enough,” Rory said. “It’s just one ingredient. Common goals, clear expectations, communication— These are things that make a relationship last.” She knew that she was talking to some of the thickest men alive, but she still had to try to set them back on course. “You both have to stop thinking about it like that. The ‘she loves me, she loves me not’ shit is for kids on the playground. You’re grown men, and you need to start acting like it.”

John sighed, but Gaz looked down at his breakfast, contemplative. Rory was pretty sure her father was beyond help, but Gaz might not be.

She dropped her books on John’s desk after breakfast, and holed up in her room most of the day, texting her out of town friends about everything that had happened, and checking in to see if Billie was free to hang out that night. She wasn’t, which sucked. Rory wasn’t really keen on the idea of going out with Gaz and his task force, but she liked the idea of staying in the house less.

She was getting restless. Settling into a new place and a new routine had staved off the itch to behave badly for a little while, but she needed to blow off steam or she’d do something really stupid.

It was Brandon that tipped the scales in favour of going out, texting her out of the blue late in the afternoon.

Brandon: Gonna be in London for a week. Would love to see you, Lorelai.

Scout: I don’t live in London.

Brandon: I’d still like to see you. I miss you every day, you know. I get that you’re seeing other people now, but I think we can still work things out.

Seeing other people? Where had he gotten that idea?

Oh, right. Soap and Ghost answering her phone a few weeks ago.

Scout: I’m not. The guys who answered my phone were my dad’s friends.

Brandon: Oh?

Brandon: So you’d be free for dinner next Saturday? I’ll come to you.

Brandon: Hereford, right? If you’re staying with your father.

Rory groaned and tipped herself off her bed. She was definitely going to need a drink now.

Scout: Yeah. Sure. Great.

Brandon: Wonderful (: It’ll be good to see you. And to talk.

Ominous.

She thumped downstairs to make a tea, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen, taking in the view of Gaz shaking his hips to some top one hundred pop song on the radio, chopping up some veg to throw into a bubbling pot that smelled enticingly of curry. He grinned when he noticed her, and reached over to turn down the music. “Hey, Scout. You decide if you’re comin’ out with us tonight?”

She slid past him to grab the kettle and fill it with water. “I think I will. Tea?”

“Please. What changed your mind?”

“My ex is badgering me to go out to dinner with him next week. I’m annoyed by him and I need a drink.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Gaz asked. “You were together for a bit.”

“Oh, he’s like, a rich asshole. We met at some fundraiser my mom got invited to, and he was the only person there who was remotely cute, so we hung out all night. And then he wanted to keep hanging out, and then he wanted to date, and I couldn’t really come up with a good reason not to. And then the next thing I knew, we were living together, and his mum started trying to get to know me, and when she started getting all weird, I knew I needed to get out before Brandon proposed. So I moved out over a weekend I knew he wouldn’t be home, and left him a note.” Rory huffed. “Cowardly, I know. But I knew he’d talk me down if I did it face to face.”

Gaz frowned, the few faint lines on his forehead creasing slightly. "That's not what I was expecting."

"I hesitate to ask, but what did you expect?"

"The opposite, I guess. Figured he was some immature college kid who didn't want to commit. Didn't think you would be the one runnin' away."

"With parents like mine?" Rory laughed bitterly, pulling mugs down from the cupboard. "I'm not the rushing in half-cocked type. I'm not going to marry the first guy who makes an offer just 'cause he's there. I don't ever want to go through a divorce, so I'm going to wait until I find someone who gets me. Give myself the best chance I can."

"Admirable. But it doesn't always work out that way. I thought Bill and I got each other."

"That's why I said that common goals and communication are important. You and Billie want different things. You want someone to come home to, and she wants a partner she can grow with. That doesn't work if you're not there."

"How are you such an expert?"

"I listen to what people say to me." The kettle clicked off, and she made tea, letting the radio and the soft domestic sounds of the kitchen fill the space. He was a lot more bearable when he shut his pretty mouth and kept his opinions to himself. She slid one mug to him when she finished, and carried one out to the living room, setting it on the end table next to John. He was reading her book, glasses balanced on the end of his nose.

He murmured his thanks, barely glancing up from the page, and Rory quickly retreated back into the kitchen.

"How d'you know how I take my tea?" Gaz asked.

"It's a splash of milk, its not exactly hard to remember." Rory sipped her tea, wincing when she scalded her tongue. “Do you want me to wash rice for dinner? Since you’ve got everything else covered.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s not a lot of effort, Gaz, I think I can handle it.” She didn’t wait for confirmation before she started on the task, gently pushing him out of the way so she could grab the rice cooker out from the island cupboard.

He stayed quiet until she’d finished and pressed the button to start the little machine. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said, and his pretty brown eyes were sincere, voice lacking the usual sardonic edge. “And this morning. Keep actin’ a right tit around you. Gets me right in the ego when you say you’re not interested. And you shouldn’t be— I shouldn’t be. Think I’m just worried that Bill was my only shot, and I’m tryin’ to prove that I still have somethin’ to offer.”

“Refreshingly honest, Garrick,” Rory said. “Keep that up. I’m gonna go shave my legs and figure out what I’m wearing tonight. I’m hoping to get laid. I was texting a guy for a while but he went dead silent on me, so I’m back to square one.”

“I don’t need to know that.”

“What do you care? All I need from you is to keep Captain Clean and Mr. Bones off my back. I already have one over protective dad, really don’t need you lads taking up the task too.” She picked up her tea and headed back upstairs, shaking her head.

She sifted through her closet for the right outfit, laying a few out on the bed while she shaved her legs and ironed the near-permanent ponytail crease out of her hair. It was hard to decide without knowing where they were going, so she asked over dinner, earning a raised eyebrow from John.

“Are the two of you goin’ somewhere?” he asked, the slightest hint of you’d better fuckin’ not be colouring his voice.

Rory pretended not to notice the undercurrent in his voice, even if a flicker of panic skittered across Gaz’s face. “Ghost and Soap invited me to come out and meet the kids. I’m looking forward to meeting Nitro. She sounds fun.” Rory was an expert study in the art of giving her parents just enough information to settle them down. “And I haven’t really been out to see the nightlife in this town yet. I’m pretty sure you can rely on Ghost to keep me out of too much trouble.”

“We’re going to that bar we went to last month,” Gaz said. “But Nitro and Lucky might manage to drag us out to that club they always want to go to. We’ll see.”

“Are you driving?” she asked. “Or are we taking a cab?”

“I’m drivin’,” he confirmed. “If we have to take a cab back or hitch a ride from Ghost, we will.”

“It’s a nice walk too.” Rory hummed, re-evaluating her short-list of outfits. “But that depends on what shoes I’m wearing.”

John nodded, content to leave it at that, just happy that it wasn’t what he had initially jumped to. It was a bit funny that he trusted Gaz so little, although it was hard to say if that was based off of their behaviour, or if he was just remembering some wilder, younger Gaz before Billie. Gaz was a charmer now, but Rory suspected that with looks like his, he could have been a real fuck boy. Probably had been.

With that in mind, she picked a tight black dress that showed off miles of leg, and pulled a pair of black jeans over top. Grown woman or no, she knew her father— There was no way he’d let her out of the house with that much skin showing. She didn’t need to waste energy on a losing battle with John Price before she even made it outside.

She pulled on her shoes while she waited for Gaz, eyeing the book sitting on the coffee table. The bookmark was close to the middle already, but John was keeping his end of the bargain and pointedly not talking about it. He’d been buried in it most of the day, which was terrifying. It was a very weird feeling, sharing her creative work with John. Sadie had always been the parent she opened up to.

Luckily Gaz didn’t take too long to hop down the stairs, wearing a nice button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Don’t wait up,” she called over her shoulder as she shuffled Gaz out the door, barely giving him time to snatch his car keys off the hook.

“You know I will,” John called back.

“What’s the rush?” Gaz asked. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“I know! But dad is reading one of my books and I can’t deal. I need a drink to cope.”

Gaz raised his eyebrows, grinning. “That’s your book?”

Rory groaned, throwing herself into the passenger seat. “Please don’t tell me you’ve read it.”

“Alright,” he said peaceably, turning the keys in the ignition. “I won’t.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Ghost really likes ‘em, recommended them a few times. Hadn’t got around to readin’, but I certainly will now. Does he know you wrote them?”

“No! And please do not tell him. Also, don’t read them. This is all plenty weird enough.” Rory shifted in her seat, kicking her shoes off so she could wriggle her jeans down her legs.

“What— What are you doing?” The panic in Gaz’s voice was very funny.

“I only wore these jeans so I could get out the door without a fight. I told you I was trying to get laid tonight.” She shook her head, folding the discarded denim neatly and tossing it into the backseat. It was like he hadn’t even been listening.

“Fuckin’ hell. You’re a menace.”

“That’s what I’m going for, thank you.”

“You don’t need to show that much leg to get attention, you know. You’re plenty hot with your trousers on.”

“Of course I am,” Rory scoffed. “But I’m not looking for some guy who’s going to appreciate me for my brains and wit, I’m looking for an easy lay in the back of a car from a big stupid military lunkhead who barely respects me.”

“Why?”

“Because if he’s an ass I don’t have to feel bad about using him, and we all get what we want and never speak again.”

“You can do better than that,” Gaz protested.

“Obviously. This isn’t about better, or about long term, or about anything except for sex. Didn’t you have ill-advised hook-ups with girls and boys you didn’t care about when you were my age? I know it was a long time ago, but I’m sure you can think back that far.” Rory shoved her hair over her shoulder and pulled her shoes back on.

“I mean— I guess some. But it’s better when you care about each other.”

“Well, yeah, obviously. But I’m not about to throw myself into another relationship just so I can get some dick. That would be stupid.”

“And fuckin’ some meathead in the back of his car is a real bright idea, yeah?” By the tension in his jaw and the way he gripped the steering wheel, Gaz was really unhappy with her plan for the evening. Was he jealous?

“What’s your problem?”

“Are you so hard up that you’d rather jump on the first cock you see instead of waitin’ for someone that you actually like?”

He was jealous. She really needed to find a way to nip this behaviour in the bud. “It could be ages before I meet someone I actually like. And It’s important to get laid before I see Brandon or he’s gonna work his way under my skirt. He sucks, but not at that.” When he didn’t respond, glaring out the windshield like the road ahead had personally offended him, Rory sighed. “Oh don’t take it personally, Garrick. I’m just looking for easy and uncomplicated. You’re hot, but I think we both know that this” — She gestured to the space between them— “would be extremely complicated. And possibly deadly, in your case.”

He shot her a look that was a little too affronted. “I wasn’t talking about me.”

“Of course not.”

He worked his jaw loose, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel, letting silence fill the space for a long minute. When Rory reached for the radio, he spoke again. “I think you’re right, you know. About needing to think about what I actually want. I was just holding onto the way things were because it was comfortable. I knew what to expect with Bill. And it’s nice to come home to predictable and familiar when you’re dealing with all the shit I do in the field.”

“Well, I’m here if you need to talk through it. Just not tonight, on account of the me getting laid thing.”

He laughed, turning the car into the lot down the street from the pub. The street parking closer looked all full up already. “Right, yeah. Don’t fuck any of my soldiers, by the way. I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Of course,” Rory agreed, hopping out of the car and pulling her dress down a little further. “I think I can handle that, unless they’re really cute.”

They walked the short distance to the pub side by side, and Gaz opened the door for her, following her in. It wasn’t too busy yet, but Ghost and Soap were already there, staking out a space in one of the larger booths, with two women sitting across from them.

The taller one, a short-haired tank of a woman, grinned at them. “Hey Captain! Who’s the smokeshow?” She had a faint Welsh accent, a little bounciness to her words that would be delightful to listen to all night, and a slight gap between her front teeth.

“I’m Rory,” she said, stopping at the top of the table and sticking a hand out. “Some of the old men around here call me Scout.”

“Spencer. Call me Nitro. This is Alex— Shivs.” Shivs was a slender, serious looking young woman, her dark hair pulled back in a braid, revealing the blondish roots around her hairline. “Lucky and Roach should be back in a minute,” Nitro continued. “They just went out for a smoke.”

Soap slid out of his seat next to Ghost and pointed to it. “Scout. Yer sittin’ where we can keep an eye on ye. Yer up tae no good, dressed like tha’. Surprised the old man let yeh out of the house.”

“She was wearing pants when we left,” Gaz said tiredly, dropping into the seat beside Nitro. “Nearly crashed the car when she started takin’ ‘em off.”

“I can see why. Those are some nice legs.” Nitro winked at Rory. “Wouldn’t mind seein’ ‘em—”

“Lieutenant,” Gaz said warningly. “That’s Price’s daughter. Off limits.”

“Scout, sit your arse down,” Soap said, glaring over his shoulder. “Best keep yer eyes tae yerself, lads, or Ah’m gonnae pry ‘em out.”

Rory glanced back at whoever Soap was talking to, frowning at the three men who were very pointedly looking anywhere else now. “Oh come on, Mactavish, let a girl live.”

“Sit,” he repeated firmly. “I’ll get ye a drink. Wouldnae be safe to let you near the bar.”

Rory sat, sighing heavily when Ghost pulled her tight against his side. "We're not 'avin' any funny business from you. If you can't behave I'll drag you back 'ome myself, got it?"

"Oh cut her some slack, Riley," Nitro said. "She's young and hot. Let some meatheads buy her drinks. If I looked like that I'd never pay for alcohol again."

"You look pretty good as is." Rory leaned forward, her eyes making an unsubtle sweep of Nitro's thick arms. "I'd buy you a drink if Mr. Bones wasn't holding me hostage over here."

“Scout.” Gaz pointed at her sternly. “No.”

“They’re so mean,” Rory complained. “Think that just because they’re friends with my dad that they have to act like this.”

“They’re worse than my dad,” Shivs said sympathetically. “And he dangled one of my first boyfriends over a second story balcony.”

“He was nice to me,” Nitro said.

“That’s because he doesn’t know we’ve fucked.” Shivs sent a sly glance down the table at Gaz. “Before she was my Lieutenant, of course. No fraternizing here.”

“Oh relax, Shivs. I’ve fucked three out of five of the people at this table right now.” Nitro pulled Shivs into her lap and slid further down the bench to make room. “But give it time.”

“You— When?” Shivs looked from Ghost to Soap to Gaz, eyes wide, trying to decide which two of the three men seemed the most likely. “The captains?”

Nitro shrugged, grinning. “Maybe.”

“What are we talking about?” A young man that looked a lot like Nitro settled into the seat beside Gaz.

“None of your business, kiddo,” Nitro said, hooking her chin over Shivs’ shoulder. “This is Lucky, by the by,” she added for Rory’s benefit. “And the lanky son of a bitch that looks like he’s seen a ghost is Roach. Lads, this is Rory. If you hit on her Soap will pull out your eyeballs and eat them.”

Rory glanced up at a familiar freckled face and propped her elbows on the table, dropping her chin into her hands. “Oh, hi Gary,” she said. “You never texted me back.”

He gave Gaz a slightly panicked look before returning his attention to Rory. “Um. Yeah. I should’ve. I’m sorry, I just, uh—”

“Ah told him he’d better leave ye be,” Soap said, sliding past Roach and onto the bench, setting a glass in front of Rory and sliding one further down to Ghost. “He’s a good soldier, I cannae ha’e yer da stranglin’ him tae death.”

“I’m sorry,” Roach said, grimacing. “I was going to— I just hadn’t figured out what to say yet.”

“It’s fine, really,” Rory said, peering around Soap’s bulky frame. “I know how these arseholes can be.”

“Jest bought ye a drink and yer callin’ us names.”

“I would gladly buy my own drinks but you’ve banned me from the bar. What is this anyway?”

“Dark an’ stormy. Gingerbeer an’ rum. Ah’ll switch ye if ye’d rather ha’e the scotch, but Ah think ye’ll like it.”

“I love gingerbeer. Good pick, Captain Clean.”

It was easy to fall into the easy camaraderie at the table, even if Gaz or Soap scolded Nitro every time she said something remotely flirty (which only made Nitro do it more).

She needed a plan to get Soap and Ghost off her back, however. They weren’t going to budge if she went at them head on, so she needed to get them to want to get a little distance. Just annoying them wouldn’t be enough, so she would have to go with the nuclear option.

After a couple more drinks, when everyone was relaxed and settled into the conversation, she put her hand on Soap’s thigh. He tensed up, giving her a wild-eyed look, which caught Gaz’s attention. None of the others seemed to notice, although Nitro gave Rory a sly look from across the table. She launched into a story, pulling the eyes at the table towards her, and Rory dug her nails in, not hard enough to do any damage through his jeans, but enough to make Soap inhale sharply, eyebrows snapping together when he looked at her. Scout kept her eyes on Nitro, pretending to be fully engrossed in what Nitro was saying, leaning forward to sip her drink, looking at Soap only when she already had the straw between her lips, eyes wide and innocent.

Soap sent a panicked look over her head, and Ghost shifted his arm down to hold her arm tight to her body so that when he pulled her toward himself her hand was pulled from Soap’s thigh. Ghost leaned in close, his breath stirring her hair when he spoke. “What are you doin’?” he asked, voice so low that even she barely caught it.

Rather than try to break away, she just snuggled in closer. “Nothing.”

Ghost sat up straight in his seat, every muscle locking up tight. “Let’s play a couple rounds of darts,” he suggested. “You’re gettin’ restless.”

Rory tipped her head back against his shoulder to look at him. “Mm, good idea. I do need to stretch my legs.” She stretched her legs out under the table, sliding the toe of her shoe up the inside of Gaz’s calf, putting him on high alert as well. If she played this right, they’d all be watching each other too closely to notice when she made a break for it.

There was another pub a couple blocks over. She could make it there and find a bit of fun before they realized where she’d gone. Or, judging by the look that Lucky was periodically sending her way, she might not have to go that far. She held eye contact for a beat, just long enough to let him know it was intentional, and then followed Soap out of the booth. It was too bad that Gary had turned out to be a dead end, but Lucky was cute too, a bit wilder looking. He had the same grin that Nitro did, one that spelled trouble and a lack of concern for consequence.

“What do you think you’re up to?” Ghost asked, eyes narrowed while he watched Soap throw the first few darts.

“Why do you think I’m up to something?” Rory asked.

“You’re actin’ like a little tart,” he said flatly.

Rory tapped the ends of her cluster of darts against his chest, tipping her head to the side and smiling up at him. “Maybe I am a little tart. You gonna do something about it?”

“You don’t want me doin’ somethin’ about it, princess.”

The thrill that his growl sent down her spine was unexpected. In truth, she’d never considered the possibility that Ghost would entertain even the thought, but suddenly she was the one thinking about it. “That’s okay. I’ll ask Gaz to do something about it.”

“No ye willnae,” Soap said, pushing her into place so she could throw. “Yer barkin’ up the wrong trees, Scout. Barkin’ in the wrong forest. Ye dinnae want anythin’ ye’ll find around here.”

“I don’t know about that.” She squared herself up, sending the darts flying in quick succession. “I figure there’s enthusiasm around here in spades, if it comes to it, but I prefer experience.”

“Somethin’ wrong with ye,” Soap grumbled. “D’ye no’ want a nice boy yer own age?”

“Roach is a nice boy my age. You told him to get. Gaz’s cousin was a nice boy my age, and you tossed him into the garden. So who exactly do you think I should be flirting with?” Rory went to fetch the darts, handing half off to Soap. “Who among us is worthy, John?”

Soap sent Ghost a helpless look that said you deal with her. Rory hummed, turning her attention back to Ghost, head tipped to the side expectantly.

“We’re lookin’ out for you.”

“Oh I know. But if you don’t give me enough space to find a dick to ride I’m gonna be looking to you three for a volunteer.”

Soap’s last dart hit the very edge of the board and fell to the floor. He gave Rory and Ghost a wide, blue-eyed stare, the game already half forgotten. “Did ye just say what I think ye did?”

“I don’t know.” Rory switched places with him so she could line up for her turn. “Your hearing isn’t what it used to be. What do you think I said?”

“Ah think yer a wicked wee temptress, is what I think,” he said. “Tryna get us kilt by yer da, you are.”

“Johnny,” Ghost said, grabbing him by a belt-loop and pulling him in close. Johnny’s face flushed red when Ghost’s other hand tipped his chin up, the picture of a man with strained patience scolding his dog for digging around in the flower beds for the third time this week. “Price ain’t gonna ‘ave any reason to kill you, is ‘e?”

“Weel—”

“Johnny.”

“She’s grown, we cannae tell her what tae do,” Soap protested. Funny how quick he was to change his tune when she suggested that she might try to sleep with him. “An’ maybe it’d be better for one of us—”

“Bloody ‘ell, Johnny, use your upstairs ‘ead. You’ve got enough will-power t’say no, don’t you?”

“I dinnae ken if Ah do, Si. Tha’s a lot of leg.”

Rory tossed a look over her shoulder at the table, meeting Lucky’s eyes for a moment. He winked. She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned back toward the board, throwing another tight cluster of darts close to the bullseye. Soap was having a bad game, his head clearly somewhere else. She went to collect the darts, bending at the waist to pick up the fallen one.

“Steamin’ Jaysus,” Soap groaned, leaning his forehead against Ghost’s shoulder. “Ah’m a dead man.”

“Don’t worry,” Rory said cheerfully. “At least one of you will survive to look after your kids.”

“Don’t be so sure. If I let go of our lad’s leash and let ‘im ‘ump you, I’ll be in ‘ot water too. Just behave yourself.”

“Oh alright. You’re no fun.”

She handily beat Johnny, and purposefully lost to Ghost (although she had to admit that she might not have won against Ghost even if she had been giving it her all) so that Ghost and Johnny were set to play against each other. Once they set up, she slipped off through the back hallway and out into the alley. She was good at melting into the background when she wanted to, it would take a minute for them to realize that she was gone and not at the table with the others either.

They’d be glad for the reprieve. So was she. It was hard work walking the line of keeping Soap just riled up enough that Ghost’s attention was on him instead of her.

She started walking toward the street, buzzing with victory and drinks she hadn’t needed to buy herself, when someone stepped into the mouth of the alley, blocking her path.

“Hey, Scout,” Gaz said, placing a cigarette between his lips, smirking at her as he brought the shivering orange flame from his lighter up. “Are you goin’ somewhere?”

Busted.

Image Credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - Banners by @/cafekitsune

#Cave Writing #hit me with your best shot #COD MW fanfic #Gaz x OC #OC: Rory “Scout” Blackmoore-Price #Age gap romance #Rory vs three old spec ops men who wins #(My money's on Rory)#Sorry posting 2 things in one day because I'm in the mood to get things done a bit

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crystlizabeth · 1 year ago

Note

Will we get a pt 2 of Cowboy Cassanova? 🥹

Cold without you…

Phillip Graves x Blackfem!Shepard!reader

Warnings: angsty, cursing, self neglect, arguing, age gap(24&32), fluffy. Again not proofread.

Summary: months later winter seemed colder and now sad what used to be your favorite time of year was now your most dreaded. But everybody gets surprises during the holidays.

P.1 cowboy Casanova

You were so angry with him, you wanted nothing more than to scream and cry. Your father tore him away so fast just as you had him so close. How could he seek to hurt you so much your own father, he watched you fall apart and he knew it was because of his doing. He did it wanting to keep his little girl from heartbreak but he was the one that broke it he knew that as soon as you arrived back to your family home. Still in your outfit from the night your tear stained face and bloody red eyes, your broken tone.

You cried and cried to him pushing him away when he came up to comfort you acting stupid as if you didn’t know, yelling all he could say it was for your own good. That Graves isn’t a man to be involved with let alone he was ‘to old for you’. That you needed to accept this and theres so many people in the world for you that school should be your main priority not some man who was taking advantage of you. He made you seem so naive and he knew better he knew that you know what you wanted what situations you got yourself in and that if he really was taking advantage of you, you would have sure as hell known.

Right there was when he knew he lost is babygirl. That he broke her heart into a million pieces not Phillip. Him. He watched as you wailed into your mothers arm mumbling out to him ‘how could you..’, ‘why would you do that..’ and ‘im not your little girl anymore.’ . Your mother comforting you not knowing the full situation but knew her husband had fucked up bad.

Now it was December you where back in Texas from school. The southern winter was different, it used to be your favorite the memories of playing in the snow with your siblings staying home from school and Christmas. But you had a feeling Christmas was going to be different, quite even.. the streets covered in inches of snow the night colorful lights on the trees and buildings around it as the snow fell from the sky. Eventually your older brother picked you up from the airport to take to home.

“You ready to go, see dad?” Caleb asked, the sound of his daughters in the background talking to one another singing the carols that came from the radio.

You sighed softly looking away from the window to face him, the street lights shiny on his face sometimes you forget how easily he lost his color in the winter his freckles becoming lighter his hair short the curls still noticeable. “Not exactly who I want to see.. but everyone is home right now so I don’t just have to see his face.” You laughed lightly knowing all of your siblings were gonna be there.

He hummed in response. There was the silence everyone knew what you dad pulled and why you were so mad at him even after the months passed.

“You know sis, you do look I dont know— good I guess?” He said quietly.

You pressed your lips together. “Im fine just school is hectic.. just be a break..” you mumbled looking down checking your phone.

“Has he tried getting in contact with you.. I gave him you new number.” Caleb said.

Oh? You faced him your eyebrows frowned, “no.. no he hasn’t has he said he’s going to..?” You asked.

Your brother shook his head unsure “I don’t know but he ask about ya, specially since I bring you up near him iv been tryin’..” he spoke.

Phillips been asking about you. But he hasn’t even reached out knowing that you wouldn’t hesitate to pick up the phone, well how could he? You’ve been away for collage and he had been deployed.

“ I have to be honest, your face looks sickly thinner, and you just don’t seem like you..” Caleb spoke.

Winter could be rough sometimes but you had been falling apart just a soon as the wether started to get colder. You had more than enough people around you that gave you comfort and all the love you needed yet it was still so cold without him. This was about the time Phillip and yoh started messing around talking more, going out, eventually sleeping together to him coming to your family’s Christmas party. Spending the new year together and soon enough becoming a couple. But now he wasn’t with you anymore, you never hated the cold as much as you did right now the Christmas light that’s hung from the houses and the music that played it made you want to cry and curl up in a ball.

Upon arriving to your family home the big white farm house decorated, walking in you were welcomed by everyone your sisters and other brother. Your mother happily taking you into a hug kissing your face, then your father he smiled lightly at you hoping to maybe get a hug maybe even a hello but you just nodded at him giving him a half smile.

“I know mama but I’m tierd and have a raging headache.” You spoke to your mother as she tried getting you to get some food, saying the same as your brother that you looked sickly and food was what you needed. She soon gave up letting you escape to your room for the rest of the night.

Opening your doors it looked the same besides the white Christmas lights hung around your room giving it a little bit of light, but in your bed laid a small present and letter with a note on top of it ‘made sure your daddy didn’t get to it - love mama’. Made sure he didn’t get to it? Putting the note to the side you took off your big jacket hanging it on your closed door along with your boots.

Walking up to it it was a small gift wrapped up in sparkly blue paper with a gold ribbon. There was a letter under it so you opened that first it read.

“With you I was so warm you were the source of my warmth and just as I knew it you were gone. It got so cold, did it for you? I have so much I was to ask and tell you I know, everything reminds me of you I find you in every small thing. But this was my favorite, something that reminded me you were my warmth my Sun. So every time you feel cold remember this gift. Merry Christmas My dear.

-Lip”

You read through the note the small tears falling off your face onto the paper, you analyzed his cursive written so delicately. Slowly placing the letter down you grabbed the box unwrapping it slowly, you wanted to savor this moment. The blue paper tarring off revealing a little velvet box, opening it your eyes met a gold necklace. The necklace having a sun on it.

Pulling the necklace up you pulled its cushion revealing another small note.

“may you shine brighter than the sun ever could.”

Oh Phillip.. the way he could break your heart all over again. You brought the necklace up to your mouth your lips pressing a kiss against the cold material. You sat there for a moment trying to pull yourself together soon enough being able to get up and put the letter and not on your night stand with the box, you had put the necklace on it sitting a little past your collar bone.

For the next week that’s all you could think about, you sat wondering if he was in the country maybe you could get into some sort of contact with him. Your brother was your only option to go to, but you didn’t exactly know how to approach him you weren’t sure if Caleb had Phillips number. But it never hurt to ask right?

Pulling your brother to the side you asked. “Do you have Phillips number? Email? Anything Caleb please.” You pleaded.

He looked at you, you could sense the light feeling of worry, “I don’t..” he spoke. You groaned out in frustration knowing he had changed his number as well but you never thought of getting Phillips email.

“But I do know he’s home.” Caleb said holding his daughter.

He haven’t moved, you mentally screamed at yourself of course he hadn’t moved and you knew where to find him. Was is risky yeah but he definitely couldn’t come here. After hours of mentally preparing yourself you grabbed the two notes along with an old box that held more letters that you had written and he had written. you borrowed your sisters keys walking out the door. The drive seemed so dreadfully long you began to think maybe you should go back doing this all you would be doing is causing more problems. But you couldn’t let the thought of your fathers disapproval hold you back anymore. You were grow and able to make your own decisions either is be physically or mentally, your love life had both to do with your father. But as of now you risked throwing away your relationship with your father for a man. A man that treated you so gently, a man who even spent months away still communicated so damn well, a man who made sure you stayed focused on the things you wanted to do, a man that loved every inch of you and could handle your mood swings. Maybe it would all be worth it in the end, maybe your father would turn out to be right to remove him from your life that was a risk you were willing to take.

Glancing over at the clock it was almost 10 when you pulled you to his gate. His property was covered in snow a path way could been seen of his truck coming in and out, you could see the light in his house but there were no Christmas decorations on display. Opening the door the cold air hit you as you opened the gate quickly getting back in the car driving up next to the his GMC.

Taking one more deep breath you turned off the car. Getting out walking up his porch, the sound of the dogs barking made you smile light you finally heard his voice telling them to quiet down and ushering them into the side room. His footsteps quickly came back the sound of the locks of the door being unlocked.

His face soften as soon as his eyes meet yours, silence not a word. The cold December air blowing but it didn’t seem as bad as before, it wasn’t freezing. His blue eyes looked over you gently taking you in his hand reaching out he pulled you inside quickly closing the door behind you. He’s hand didn’t leave your arm, he just continued to look at you he looks as if this was his breaking point that he had been just a cold with out you.

“You can’t be here..” he whispered, his brows frowned.

You stood there looking at him with big eyes that if you were to look away he would disappear. “I got you gift Lip…” you said quietly watching his face closely looking for any signs he didn’t want you here. But there wasn’t anything.

“Surprised your dad didn’t get to it first…”

“My mom did, she put it on my bed.” You reassured.

You saw the corner of his lips rise a bit. His hand didn’t leave your arm you felt his thumb start rubbing against your sleeve lightly. Neither of you needed to speak as of now just needed this to be in each others space, the comfort of each other was all you needed.

You felt his warm hand touch you, the coldness that covered your face absorbing his warmth. “You’re not taking care of yourself are you..?” He asked his eyes running over your features.

He could saw how full you’d become you didn’t have that glow he saw you with last, the bags under your eyes still noticed under your makeup. He could tell your habits of self care had changed, he let his other hand leave your arm touching your face. He was so gentle with you his calloused hand held your face close, you wanted nothing but to pull him in and feel his lips on yours but you controlled yourself just letting the moment pass.

“Lip..” you spoke softly.

He hummed, “Do you think we can try again-” you said he quickly gave you a look.

“You know what your dad-”

“No, no I don’t care what he thinks I will make sure you keep your rank. I’m old enough to make my own decisions especially when it come to my love life. Phillip your all I want, I mean that I can’t see myself with anyone else we both know this would happen me right back on your front step.” You said your hand laying on top his forearm.

He knew you where right he’ll you both said I love you when he left. He knew sending you a gift would bring you right back to him, shit if he could have done it the other way around he would’ve been on your front step as soon as you got back from college. Little did you know he had fallen apart just as much as you, but he managed it differently. You both knew that being with each other right now was enough to build that warmth once again.

Five months that’s how long you both went without eachother, but it wasn’t the same no letters, no calls nothing. And you where right your father had no reason to control your love life, and Phillip knew how much you meant to Shepherd he wouldn’t let his little girl leave compromise was something he could work with.

His lips came close to yours, your lips quivering just to feel the touch of his chapped lips. He waited ther watching you hold back from kissing you “Are you sure?”

You nodded, “No darlin’ I need you to use your words..” he whispered his hot breath hitting your lips making you lick them slightly.

“Yes, Im sure.”

That was all he needed to hear his lips touching yours softly letting himself sink into your kiss, you put the box to the side letting your hand wrap around his neck him adjusting moving his hands dow to your waist holding you in a tight embrace as you both kissed. God did you miss his taste, the strong coffee and whisky always seemed to linger on his lips such a different combination but so addicting.

To put it simply you didn’t go home that night.

His arm wrapped around you as you laid on his chest. For once you were warm again, warm with him. But the peace has to me distrusted at some point, you phone buzzed again groaning you realized you still have your sisters car your location is off and you’ve been gone all night.

Quickly getting up you rushed over to your sweat pants grabbing your phone out of the. ‘23 missed called Mama’, ‘16 messages Nessa’ and ‘54 missed calls Daddy’. Shit..

For all they knew you where dead. “Whats wrong Darlin’?” You heard lips voice say.

“Nobody knows where I’m at.” You spoke sending a text to your mother and Sister quickly.

“You didn’t tell them where you were goin’? What bout nes?” He asked sitting up.

You shook your head wiping your eyes putting your phone upside down on his dresser giving your full attention back to you.

Through out the morning you both caught up, the two of you catching up. So much had happen in the last five months you opens up about your mental health throughout it and the downfall of your and your fathers relationship that you had turned 24 and lived in campus now your apartment from before empty and most of that stuff in a storage unit and at home. Also That you even made a attempt to move on failing horribly, he admitted the same that he couldn’t find a smile that lit him up. That he was going down mentally as well this made you two realize that maybe you two were co dependent on each other but also just heart broken.

“What do you plan on telling your father?” Phillip spoke sipping on his coffee his hand on the small of your back.

“Well he’s not gonna like what I have to say honestly but I could careless and I plan on taking you if that alright?” You explained picking at your breakfast.

He hummed “ I wont get shot on sight right?” He half joked.

You slapped the back of your hand to his chest playfully. “Shut up. Plus mama keeps them locked away when we have guests because she has curious grandbaby’s for their safety and now yours.” You smiled at him kissing his cheek softly.

“Let do this yeah?” He said giving you a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, as long as your with me.” You said softly your voice slightly shaky.

“Always.”

You both had driven separately him following behind you, he did the same while walking into your family home stayed behind you as you gave your keys back to your sister. Nessa giving you a look as she saw the man, your mother shaking her head slightly “he’s in his study upstairs.” She said he face turning to Phillip giving him a sympathetic smile. She knew all hell was about the break loose.

Walking into your fathers study he saw you the relived happy look quickly changing.

“What is-”

“He’s here because I asked him to, because I went to go see him after 5 months of no contact.” You said cutting your father off.

He stood up going to say something but you quickly spoke before him.

“Sit down. —For a man who raised me to be independent you hind me back. It was never him, or me is was you. Because your scared to lose me and if you couldn’t tell when you told him to leave me I lost all sorts of respect for you you lost me right then and there.” You said, you heart racing.

“I want to make this clear i really do dad. I am 24 years old, one of the highest and hardest worker in my classes and through out the years. I have done everything to please you and when I finally have something of my own you take it from me. You— you threaten his rank a rank he’s spent years to get to something that means so fucking much to him I made sure he picked that because if I didn’t he would have dropped that job turned in his rank and gone home to me. But you couldn’t come to that fact that I a grown woman had found someone I loved I’m not naïve dad.” You spoke sternly you didn’t want to cry but god was your heart beating out of your chest.

“I need you to understand that if you want to continue to see me you will treat him with respect in and out of the base. You will not make any remarks about my relationship about him you will keep your negative opinions to yourself because you are the only one that has a problem. And if you don’t I will leave, I’ll keep in contact with mom but I will not. I will not fucking speak to you do you understand.” You spoke looking into your fathers eyes.

His brows frowned but he nodded “I understand.” He spoke softly.

“I really hope you do..” because if he didn’t you wouldn’t talk to him maybe ever and that hurt you. But he can’t control you and you had to make that clear.

You walked around his desk hugging him your fathers arms holding you tightly. Even if you were a daddy’s girl he was the only man that had broke your heart, and that’s what hurt the most. He knew how bad he had hurt you yet didn’t regret what he did but now he had to come to terms with it, you weren’t his babygirl anymore.

But that you were Phillip Graves, that man would hold your heart gently never seeking to break it.

Winter wasn’t sad anymore, yet the joy had come back to it. Spending the remainder of Christmas break with Phillip and your family, everyone officially meeting him as your boyfriend. You had your glow back, crazy how one person can bring you back so quickly. There was no thought of him leaving again he wanted to down every last moment with you, and he planned on it. The winter once again had become your favorite.

And you weren’t cold without him anymore.

Soo here’s part two I know it’s not alottt of Phillip and reader but I wanted it to be dramatic and I love a Christmas/winter themed fic!

#x black reader #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x black!reader #phillip graves cod #cod philip graves #philip graves #phillip graves #graves call of duty #graves x you #philip graves x reader #graves mw2 #graves x reader #phillip graves x you #cod graves #shepherd cod #black fem reader #black female characters

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sweetertreats · 1 year ago

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Honk

A story about a Clown

Sweet Tooth’s very own lil guy circus, now travelling Kalos! A performance where only one man comes out on top, the clown himself. Aged somewhere between middle aged and “Young as a berry”, this clown will have you wishing you never crossed paths with such an entertaining enemy. He won’t wipe your party without cracking a few jokes along the way. He’s not afraid to play dirty, but for the sake of good showman ship he’ll start off fair.

Which would be fair information if I didn’t write it myself, huh? You never know when the shows gonna start, so make sure you have your tickets ready! Or don’t! You didn’t really have a choice. Participation IS mandatory! My pronouns are He/Him, but if don’t worry about forcing the words out of your mouth when you’re warning your friends about the c-c-c-c-c-c-clown.

[There is a ref below the lil dude intros ;o)]

What do you think? Good show? Bad show? Be honest. I don’t really like liars.

What a magnificent turnout! I wonder who’s on the cast list?

Machete: A rather interesting looking Honedge with a bit of edge. Pretty sharp, if ya know what I mean.

Mimo: A Mr. Mime with a wonderful outfit! A Fire/Psychic type with a cute outfit to match her trainer’s, what’s not to love!

Vani: A Strawberry Flavored Vanillite with a very creative name! Cherry on top and sprinkles!

Pretty Kitty: A sylveon that isn’t really expected to fight, just to look pretty for the show! All dressed up with the cutest little outfit, they’re the perfect distraction for any ambush. (to be designed)

Dizzy: They say no two Spinda are alike, but they can be if you make yourself dizzy enough! This dude’s all dressed up in his clown best! A classic puffy little outfit that’s sure to make you forget the trainer behind him. (to be designed)

Squishy: A Banette with a rather silly look to her. There’s no time like the present, and Squishy’s little tricks will have you rolling on the ground with laughter! (to be designed)

now for some ooc info.

hi! names padfoot! i am an adult, so this entire blog is adult run. this is my first time running something like this on tumblr!!! so i am very excited! Sweet Tooth is adapted from the Twisted Metal series! I say adapted because he has been tweaked just a bit to fit the setting, but he’s still a loveable evil clown either way. everything will be tagged either with basic pkmnirl or rp tags :)

as far as everything goes, the concept of adapting him in this way, his design, and his first three pokemon are all credited to @moderator-monnie and @lazy-charlie ! the current pfp and the forever existing reference art was done by lazy-charlie!

pfp and banner will be updated with the full cast at some point or another, but for now its just the truck and such. the other three pokemon will be drawn up and posted whenever i’m able to do digital art again, so far now text based description is all you get :(

dni is basic, no nsfw (suggestive is ok!!!), no type of hate fuelled phobias, no slurs, no zoos maps or drama starters. if i dont respond please dont get too upset about it, i will try and make responses to everyone that i can but if i miss you feel free to try again! just dont spam. as stated, i am an adult so i do have an adult life i need to tend too alongside this silly little project.

for now responses will remain text, in the future some may be drawn if i cant find the words for things but we will see!

messages are open for rp requests, story building, or things like that :3 please respect that i am free to deny, block, or ignore any requests that make me uncomfortable.

yahoo yippie wahoo! little dance! you made it to the bottom! do a little dance!!!

#pkmn irl #pkmn blog #pkmn rp #pokemon oc #pokemon #pokeblogging #twisted metal #sweet tooth #crossover #sweet tooths little guy circus

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eating-plastic · 1 year ago

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Away from the Campfire: Ace Visconti x fem!reader SMUT

Warnings: NSFW, smut (MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI), age gap (older man-younger woman. Reader is +18! Be gone creeps!), AFAB!reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex (life ain’t a fic, people! Wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, slight praise, begging, daddy kink, lots of pet names (kiddo, angel, sweetheart, just to name a few), dom! Ace, sub!reader, shy!reader, inexperienced!reader, slow burn, swearing, all of the typical dbd warnings so violence, pain, angst, all that jazz, comfort, some fluff, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 6458 words

A/N: Whelp, here it is! My second oneshot and my first smut! If you knew me, you’d be surprised I waited this long to write something nsfw lol. I don’t know how this is gonna be received considering no one touched my Bill headcanons. I guess the dbd fandom just isn’t that big of fans of old men. Eh, it’s an acquired taste. I do just write these for myself anyway. Still, if anyone does find this, I hope you have a nice day! Remember to drink some water and take a break every now and again!

-----------------------

You’ve always been a quiet person. Always keeping to yourself, not talking to many people, and honestly just fading into the background. Even now, being in an inescapable hell where you were forced to do the same task over and over again with someone or something trying to kill you, you never really befriended any of your fellow survivors outside of trials. At least in the beginning you didn’t.

No matter how one of your fellow survivors acted towards you around the campfire, they always tried to help you during trials as long as you were trying. In the beginning, there were a few survivors that even would “baby” you, whether it was because you were new to this realm, or the fact that you were one of the few younger survivors, or a combination of both. Still, as you got the hang of trying to survive in one of the many different environments you were thrown into during a trial and many began to stop keeping such a close eye on you, there was one that always kept you close.

To be honest, you were not the biggest fan of Ace when you first arrived to the Entity’s realm. You thought he was arrogant, egotistical, and willing to put his own survival over that of others. Anytime he would open his mouth in-between trials to tell tales about his life before “all of this”, you would try to ignore every word that came out of his mouth or even go for a walk. The walks were always preferable since you enjoyed walking by yourself before arriving in what you could only describe as hell. That was until you had your first trial with him.

As soon as the Yamaoka Estate came into view, you followed the same routine of looking for a generator to work on or a crate for supplies. While you rummaged around, a familiar voice came from behind you.

“Hey, there you are kiddo.”

You had rolled your eyes and closed the chest in frustration. Empty. Ace smirked at your annoyance before he walked up to you.

“Lemme help you with that,” he said, lifting the lid of the chest and moving his hand around in its dark interior. “Aha, there we go.”

He removed his hand to present a toolbox. Your eyes had widened in shock. You could’ve sworn the chest was empty! Ace once again smirked at your reaction.

“They don’t call me a lucky bastard for nothing. Here, take it. It’ll be more useful in your hands anyway,” he held the box towards you, and you hesitantly took it. You had then nodded in appreciation.

“Stick with me, kid. We’ll get through this easy.”

You hadn’t really wanted to follow Ace, once again worried that he was going to ditch you to save himself. Still, it was going to make repairing generators easier, especially with your toolkit. So you nodded and followed him.

-----------------------

“You really don’t talk much, huh kiddo,” Ace said while he worked on the last generator that needed to be repaired. You didn’t respond, just wanting to continue working on the task at hand. Besides, you never would respond when someone would ask a question like that.

“Heh, I stand corrected.”

After the generator was completed , Ace let out a noise of triumph and began to compliment you, until a scream had cut him off. You both had looked towards the sky and saw the Entity’s claws dragging one of your teammates upwards.

“Shit, I guess that’s our invitation to leave. Run towards the gate, kid. I’ll be right behind ya.”

You nodded, before you did as you were told.

-----------------------

As soon as you arrived at the gate, you had looked behind you but Ace was nowhere to be seen. You had opened your mouth to call out for him but stopped. You turned back to open the gate and stood in its entryway. The campfire called to you, telling you to just run and leave another one of many trials behind, but you couldn’t. Your eyes continued to scan your surroundings. You didn’t know how long you had waited for Ace before hesitantly backing up and turning to just run out of there.

When you arrived at the campfire, you began to feel guilt twisting in your gut. It was odd. Sure, you had originally not liked Ace but you weren’t a monster. No one at the campfire deserved what goes on during the trials. You took your seat away from everyone that was waiting around by the flickering firelight. After a few moments passed, the sound of footsteps added to the idle chatter of some of your fellow survivors.

“Whew! I am way too old to be running around like that,” Ace plopped himself down next to you, which causes you to tense up at first. That was until he had asked you a question.

“You got out, okay?” he asked, looking at you with concern. Huh, that’s new.

You nodded and you couldn’t help but let a small smile break out on your lips.

“Good. You did a nice job out there, kid,” he smiled and squeezed your shoulder, before getting up to “entertain” the rest of the survivors.

That was the first thing he did that told you how you had misjudged him.

-----------------------

The second time Ace had proved how much you misjudged him, was when he had rescued you from a hook.

Halfway through the trial, you had taken it upon yourself to loop the current killer, the trapper, in order to bid enough time for the last generator to be repaired and the gate to open. Unfortunately for you, your legs had begun to give out, providing him enough time to down you. At that point, you had already checked out. Your teammates were safe, and that was all that mattered. You didn't even feel the hook dive itself into your shoulder. Not really. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp impale of the Entity’s tendrils into your body.

That pain never came, though. In fact, you had felt the sensation of your legs moving. You opened your eyes, confused. You could see the gate coming closer and you could hear a voice right by your ear.

“-most there. Come on, kiddo, keep moving.”

Wait, Ace? What was he still doing here? You thought everyone had left. You hoped that they all had left.

No time to think about that, though. You had to keep running. The next thing you knew, your exhaustion had lessened and the campfire was coming into view. You slowed your legs to a stop. Ace had let out a laugh of triumph.

“Ha! We made it! Shit! I mean-I knew we’d mak-!”

“You saved me?” your soft voice stopped the older man dead in his tracks.

“Well I’ll be damned. She speaks,” he quipped. You cocked your head to the side, waiting for an answer.

“Come on, kid. You didn’t think I was gonna leave you behind, did you?”

You just shrugged. You would’ve been fine if your teammates left you. You did your part to keep them safe, after all.

“Just don’t do that again, kay? I nearly had a heart attack trying to find you.”

You had opened your mouth to say something, but Ace was already at the campfire talking with the others. This caused you to huff in frustration. You had wanted to keep talking to him, but not with everyone else around.

Oh well. You were going to get your chances soon.

------------------------

You were sitting by the shore of a lake. The campfire had many walking trails around it, and the one you had taken led you here. It was nice. You wanted to be alone at the moment, away from the firelight and prying eyes of others.

When you had first been murdered by one of the killers, a move that the others called “mori”, you were surprised. No one warned you about that. Apparently it was a bit of a rarity. Still, some of them weren’t that bad. At least, when compared to being sacrificed to the Entity. That was until you were “moried” by the onryo. Who could blame you for being shaken up afterwards? You had your limbs painfully broken and you were left to slowly die. When you walked by the campfire to be alone, all of the survivors still acted the same as always. Did they act the same way after going through something so agonizing? Were you just acting like a baby? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you felt like your limbs didn’t belong to you. You could still feel the phantom sensations of them being broken, but when you looked down they were normal.

You couldn’t get it out of your mind. The sound of the crickets and the tide of the lake couldn’t help. You had soon felt tears welling up in your eyes and your body began to shake. You curled yourself up into a ball and began to sob. It felt like utter hopelessness was slowly crushing your body, slowly constricting your chest like a large python. You began to regret not sticking by the campfire. Would it have made you feel better? Would the conversations have been better?

The sound of crushing leaves caused your sobs to get caught in your throat. Your lip quivered as you tried to stop crying. You didn’t want to look so childish in front of one of your fellow survivors, hence why you walked off to be alone as you figured you were going to cry.

“That you, kid?” a voice called before walking towards you. You hid your face in your knees and took deep breaths to try and stop sobbing. You even took your bottom lip in-between your teeth and bit down hard to try and stop its shaking.

Ace took a seat right next to your shaking form. Slowly, he brought his hand to your back and began to rub circles into it. If you were to have told yourself when you first arrived that you and Ace would become unlikely...”friends”, if that was the right word, you would’ve thought you were completely insane. That didn’t matter, though. You were happy he was here and you showed it by leaning into him.

“I, uh...I heard what happened,” he began. Ace really did try so damn hard to think of what to say to you. He has never had to deal with something like this before, but he didn’t want to fuck it all up and say the wrong thing. He liked you, although he wasn’t sure just how much yet. Ever since he heard about you and your quiet, timid nature, he wanted to protect you when he could. Did it seem out of character for him, sure, but he didn’t give a shit. Especially since he had managed to get you to at least speak a couple of sentences to him.

“Look...I’m sorry you went through that...you can continue to cry if you want to,” you moved your head to look at him with your puffy, red, eyes. At the sight of your broken face, Ace stopped rubbing your back to wrap his arm around your shoulder to pull you close to him. With that, you continued to cry until you couldn’t anymore.

With all of your tears shed and all you were able to do was sniffle from time to time, you and Ace just sat there together in silence. That was until a thought entered the older man’s head.

“Hey, you wanna know what this reminds me of?” he asked. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side, your silent way of saying “what?”.

“There was this one time I had to lie low for a bit. I had, uh, rented an RV and was on a lake just like this. It’s...it’s interesting just how quiet it all is, you know. I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I just wanted to get back into the game as soon as I could...but, it really is nice.”

You nodded at his words and rubbed your arm. Slowly, your limbs started to feel like they belonged to you again.

“I also befriended a raccoon, too.”

You pulled away from Ace to look at him confused, and he laughed at your reaction.

“I was sitting just like where I am now, when...,” he trails off and spinned you this tale that you were pretty sure was 90% fake, but that didn’t matter. You could tell he was trying to cheer you up, and it worked. By the time the tale had concluded, you had a large smile on your face and Ace had even managed to pull a few giggles from you. You both soon found yourselves sitting in silence once more, but this time it was comforting and all thoughts about the previous trial had been pushed to the back of your mind.

“Whelp kiddo, what do ya say we start heading back? Everyone’s probably worrying about us,” Ace stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, but decided to do something unexpected when he pulled you up.

You hugged him.

You threw your arms around him, and hugged him.

“Thank you,” you quietly murmured into his chest. Ace slowly moved his arms to wrap them around you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hug you, but at the moment he was trying to understand the odd feeling swirling in his chest.

“Yeah, uh...don’t mention it,” he said. God, why was his chest feeling so weird. You pulled away and smiled up at him and that was the moment that he connected the dots. “Uh...you go on ahead, kiddo. I’ll...I’ll catch up.”

You looked at him confused, but you had just assumed that he wanted to reminisce about his old life. You didn’t blame him, so you just nodded and turned to walk back to the campfire.

As soon as you were out of sight, Ace sat back down in front of the lake once more. He pulled his sunglasses from his face to rub it.

Love. He was in love with you. Had he felt that way for you all this time? He certainly didn’t know. Especially since he had never been in love with anyone before. He let out a deep breath before muttering the only phrase he could think of after this revelation.

“Fuck.”

-------------------------

“Hey Ace, you awake in there or what?” Ash shook his friend after he didn’t respond to his question. Ace quickly put on a mask that resembled his usual smug self.

“Yeah, I’m just in awe that you can even come up with a question,” he smirked.

“Oh ha ha, fuck you. I asked you why you’re being so quiet? You’ve been hanging out with Y/N too much, she’s starting to rub off on you,” Ash quipped, but he was actually a bit wrong. Ace had been avoiding you a bit. He still looked out for you during trials, but he had found himself sitting near the lake more often. He really didn't know what to do after he discovered that he was in love with you. How could he? First of all, he didn’t even know how to tell you. He’s hardly ever had to tell someone that he loved them. For the most part, Ace would’ve always just said it when he wanted something. He had usually never loved them. The second thing was how you would respond. Ace had no problems flirting with men and women alike and had no problems when someone would get disgusted by his action or even slap him, but this was different. Those were all men and women that he was never going to see again or care about, so it didn’t matter. You were someone he liked to be around, someone he cared about, and he did not want you to think of him as a “disgusting old pervert” or something.

“Yep, I lost you again. You know it’s getting boring entertaining the guests by myself,” Ash joked before he got up and made his way to where a large group of survivors were hanging out, listening to Kate as she plucked away at her guitar strings.

Ace sighed before he got up and made his way towards the lake like always. He had to figure something out, especially since Ash had started to notice. And if Ash could notice that something was off, then everyone else probably could too. He was letting the cocky mask of his slip too much. It would only be a matter of time before you-

“Um, Ace?”

God damnit.

Your slow footsteps approached him. He was right, you had noticed a change in him. And so you followed him to the lake, wanting to be a good friend and try to know what was wrong even if you didn’t know what to say.

“What can I do for ya, sweetheart?” like with Ash, the mask went up. Ace had been experimenting a bit. Testing out different pet names with you. It was his way of dipping his toes in the water. To see if you would get uncomfortable with his light flirting. So far, you hadn’t shown any signs of discomfort.

“I, um...I hope you don’t mind but...I overheard you and Ash. I guess I just saw it as...I mean...I just want to see if you’re okay that’s all...,” you glanced down at your feet. Well that could’ve gone better.

“Psh, what? Me? When am I not okay?” he smirked at you, but you clearly weren’t buying his words. “Aw, come on angel, don’t worry about me so much. Shouldn’t you be worried about your pretty, little self?”

Your face began to heat up. You loved his compliments and pet names. Well, when he had first called you “sweetheart” it had made you tense up a bit, but now they made your heart flutter. You didn’t have many experiences with men, but you’ve never met a man who was charming and made you feel as Ace did. Especially one as old as him. It was odd, but you were certainly not going to tell him. Not just because you would be mortified if you had to, but also because after all your time with Ace, there was a sliver in your mind that told you not to trust him. You could picture a situation in which you built up the courage to tell him that you were falling for him, only to get laughed at and told that he just felt bad for you. A quiet, childish, little coward that cries after experiencing something all of the other survivors were seasoned to.

“Hey now, what’s that look, beautiful?” Ace closed the distance between you and him after seeing your face drop. “I don’t mind you worrying about lil’ ol’ me. It’s kinda cute.”

You shook your head. You felt a nauseating combination of wanting to cry and be sick. Jeez, you got way too lost into your own head. Ace took a deep breath before he raised his hand to your face to gently stroke it.

“Hey...hey Y/N, it’s okay. Come on, what’s wrong?” you just lowered your head. Was this a joke? Was it always a joke? Saving you, risking his skin for you, comforting you, calling you all sorts of sweet names, this? Was it all just pity? Ace just continued stroking your cheek and looking at your sorrowful face, thinking hard about what he wanted to say. “Hey, how ‘bout this: you tell me what’s wrong and...I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me, huh?”

You fiddled with your fingers and drew a shaky breath.

“Is this a joke?” you asked, finally raising your watery eyes to look at him. You tried to stay strong.

“What are you talking about,” he moved his hand to brush some of your hair out of your face but you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Is it all a joke? The names, the comfort, the...the affection...is it all just one big joke...? Ace...is it all just you feeling bad for me?”

“I...what makes you think that?” was someone telling you this? How could you think that him testing the waters of your unlikely friendship, trying to see if he really could actually make it a meaningful relationship, as him just playing a joke on you? Was it because of him telling you his history? Someone else who didn’t like him just trying to look out for you? Was it the realm slowly breaking you?

“I...I just want to know...”you said, not breaking the gaze you had with Ace. You figured that if you could be strong during a trial, then you could be strong during this.

“You’re...you’re really gonna make me rip the band-aid off, huh?”

Here it comes, you thought. He doesn’t love me. He never could’ve loved me. I’m just an idiot-

“You know that I’ve been trying to tell you that I love you, right?”

Wait, what?

“You know that’s why I’ve been avoiding you? Why I’ve been hurling pet name after pet name at you?”

You tried to speak, but all you could get out were stuttered phrases.

“When I found you here, shaken up by that bad trial, that's when I realized it...and ever since then I’ve wanted to tell you that I love you but I didn’t know how to get it out and I was worried you’d think that I was a gross perv or something...so there. That’s why I care about you so much. That’s why I’ve been trying to be there for you but avoid you at the same time. I don’t know why you think that I don’t actually care about you, or who told you, but stop believing it, okay. Because I love you, Y/N. Okay? I love you so Goddamn much.”

You just continued to stare at Ace. You truly couldn’t believe it. Your eyes had long since dried. Was this real?

“Really?” your soft voice broke the silence.

“Do I need to prove it? Because I’ll prove it.”

“Wha-no no, I...I jus-”

“Nope! I need to prove it, so I will. Come here, angel,” not one to be serious for too long, Ace pulled you into his arms and even managed to lift your feet off of the ground. You squealed and even began to giggle as he tried to spin you.

“Okay! O-Okay...I get it,” you said in-between your laughing fit.

Once Ace put your feet back on the ground, he tilted your face to look at him.

“So, what do ya say, beautiful? You, uh...you wanna try this out?”

You smiled and nodded, eagerly.

You didn’t even think about how the others would think about the relationship. How some of them would flash you two odd or even disgusted looks because of the age difference or how comfortable Ace quickly proved to be with PDA, but that didn’t matter. You would quickly find that his confidence and silver tongue would be enough to drown out those looks or comments.

-----------------------

“Now, what are you smiling about, sweetheart?” Ace says while approaching you. You glance up at him and shrug.

This lake now had so much meaning to the both of you that it was hard to not smile when you were near it. Not only that, but it has become your own private love nest with him.

Ace sits down next to you and pulls you close to him, causing you to rest your head on his shoulder. He then removes his sunglasses and puts them in his jacket pocket. You always enjoyed when he would remove them. You truly couldn’t get enough of his dark eyes.

“It’s been a pretty easy day,” he remarks, referring to the lack of trials performed. “I hope we get more of them.”

“You don’t think that’s jinxing it?” you ask.

“When have I ever been a jinx?”

Well, he had you there. You had to agree, though. The lack of trials was welcomed, and you wanted more of them. You just shrug and smile at him. Ace smiles back at you and glances down to your lips.

“God damn, angel,” he raises his hand up to tilt your chin up to him. “You look beautiful in the moonlight.”

It didn’t matter that this was the nth compliment he’s ever given you. It still made you feel sheepish and small in his arms, but in a good way. Your body begins to feel warm as he leans forwards to kiss you. You melt and kiss him back.

You get lost in the kiss, even as you feel his hand move from your face to your waist. You quickly tense up though, when you feel the hand move upwards under your shirt. Upon feeling your body going rigid, Ace pulls away to inspect your face. He swiftly removes his hand when he sees a bit of nervousness in your eyes.

“Sorry,” he mutters while trying to move away, but your hand on his stops him.

“It...it’s fine. I-I want...,” you look away. You do want this, it’s just that such intimacy always made you a bit skittish. You’ve had very little relationships before, well, here, and even though you’ve had sex while in these relationships, you were always apprehensive the first time. There is a lot of trust that goes into it, and you always fear about that trust being broken. Not to mention the fact that the idea of trying to initiate sex made you feel embarrassed.

“Do you want me to continue?” Ace asks. He moves his hand back to your face to stroke your cheek. You melt at the feeling.

“Yes,” you breathe out. He nods before moving closer to you and resuming the kiss. His hand also goes back under your shirt.

The feeling makes you sigh, which gives Ace the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. As soon as it begins to dance with yours, you feel a familiar warmth spread in-between your legs, and you squeeze your thighs together in order to try and relieve it.

Next, you move your hands to remove Ace’s hat and run your fingers through his hair. His hands work to hold you close to him and to grope your body underneath your clothes. Soon, he moves his hand to one of your breasts, squeezing it before moving under your bra to play with it properly.

He then breaks the kiss with you, and moves his lips from yours to your jaw, and then your neck. The feeling of his facial hair scratching your neck makes you squirm and deepen your breathing.

Both of his hands are under your shirt and your bra now, groping both of your breasts and rolling your nipples in-between his fingers. the feeling causes you to pant and whine. You need to relieve the desire of having some sort of friction against your clothed, wet pussy. You move to try and straddle Ace, thinking that he was too distracted with sucking the most sensitive part of your neck, but you get pushed down to the ground and he moves to hover over you.

“Aw, what’s wrong angel?” he smirks. You are now unable to even rub your thighs together as his legs are now preventing yours from closing. You let out a needy whine, hoping he’d take the hint. “Ah, use your words sweetheart.”

“A-Ace...please...,” you whimper. Shame begins to eat away at you, preventing your desires to be voiced.

“Please, what? Come on babydoll, tell daddy what you want,” you feel your pussy clench around nothing at that. You have to swallow your shame to get what you want.

“Please...touch me, please,” your face feels like it’s on fire. Lucky, Ace decides to have mercy on you. He moves his hands from your shoulders to your shorts, undoing them.

“There, that wasn’t too hard now, was it?” he smirks. As soon as your shorts are undone, you lift your hips up enough for him to pull them off along with your panties. You let out a squeak at the cool air hitting your sex, but still can’t close your legs thanks to Ace’s.

He slowly moves one of his hands down your body towards the place you need it most. Unfortunately for you, it seems he wants to tease you even more, moving his hand from your lower abdomen to your thigh, and then squeezing it. Just as you are about to let out a frustrated huff, you gasp as Ace moves his hand from your thigh to run his fingers through your wet folds.

“God damn, you’re soaked. This all because of me, beautiful?” he taunts. All you can do is nod. You bite your lower lip to keep moaning too loud, especially as he begins stroking your clit.

“Aw, come on, doll. Don’t you hide your pretty little voice from me,” he moves his head back to your neck. “Come on, let daddy hear you.”

With that, he continues to suck onto the same spot on your neck he was sucking on before. This drags a shaky moan from your lips, which causes him to hum in satisfaction.

After rubbing your clit and soaking his fingers in your slick, Ace decides to push one of his fingers inside of you. Your poor little clit didn’t get a break from his abuse, though, continuing to stroke it with his thumb, now.

You continue to moan at his ministrations of your body. The world of the Entity made it easy to forget that pleasure exists, but God was Ace helping you remember. Especially as he pushes another finger into your tight hole, scissoring them to help stretch you out.

It was all starting to be too much. Your cries grow in volume as you feel the familiar sensation like a coil tightening in your stomach. You try to form a coherent sentence to tell Ace about your approaching orgasm, but all that gets out is his name and your whimpers.

“You gonna cum, angel? Huh? You wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nod desperately as a response, causing him to chuckle. “Go on, babydoll. Go ahead, I’ll be nice.”

You continue to cry out, your moans building up and your toes beginning to curl. You throw your hands onto Ace’s shoulders in a frenzied attempt to find something to cling to, bracing yourself. That coil insides you gets tighter and tighter, until it finally snaps and you scream out in pleasure. Ace continues to stroke your clit and coo at you, working you through your orgasm.

Once you come down from your high, he pulls his fingers from your pussy to inspect them. They are completely drenched in your slick, even beginning to drip down to his palm. He smirks, before bringing his hand to his mouth, licking and sucking your juices from it, even moaning a bit as he does it. His actions make you squirm. You just came, and yet you’re getting turned on all over again.

“Damn sweetheart, you taste amazing,” Ace groans out, before getting an idea. “Here, you wanna try?”

He brings his hand close to your mouth, holding it out so you can see slick drip down the back of his hand. It felt like you weren’t even in control of your body as you lean up and drag your tongue upwards, lapping up whatever bit of your juices you could, a complete puppet to lust. A dragged out “fuck” left Ace’s lips at he watches you, wanting that little tongue of yours elsewhere. An event for another time.

After cleaning his hand, he moves them to his belt, undoing and pulling it free from his pants. The sight hypnotizes you and causes you to roll your bottom lip in-between your teeth. To Ace, you looked absolutely adorable. You look all fucked out and he hasn’t even put his cock in you, yet.

As soon as he gets his pants undone, he pulls them down enough for his hard length to spring out. He hisses just as you did from the cool air hitting his dick. He clears his throat and begins stroking it slowly, making sure your eyes are on him. Of course they were, you are mesmerized by his hand slowly jerking himself off, even letting out a needy whine. You needed him inside of you, now.

“You need something, babydoll?” Ace teases. Of course he wanted you to beg for it.

“F-Fuck...Ace...fuck me, please...,” you manage to get out in-between pants.

“Aw, okay. Since you asked so nicely,” he brings his cock to your drenched lips and strokes it in-between them, lubing it up with your slick.

You cry from your still sensitive pussy being touched and from the tip of his dick catching your entrance.

As soon as he felt that he was lubed up enough, Ace takes his length into his hand and lines it up to your wet little hole. Before pushing in though, he says your name, causing you to look up at him.

“If it hurts too much, you’ll tell me, right? I promise I’ll stop,” his voice was now serious, wanting you to understand what he was saying. You look up at him and nod.

“I will.”

With that, Ace gently pushes the tip of his cock into your pussy and your hands go back to his shoulders as before. He pushes in a bit more until you cry out in pain, stopping the older man in his tracks.

“Shit, you need me to stop?”

You nod, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes.

“Okay...okay. Just relax Y/N, I got you,” he moves his head to the crook of your neck to place kisses on every bit of skin he can get to, while one of his hands finds one of your breasts once more, this time dragging your shirt with it.

You take deep breaths, trying to relax your body and focus on Ace’s kisses and touch. As soon as the pain begins to subside, you tug on his arm.

“Ace...you c-can move now,” you pant.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Ace looks at your face to make sure you were ready, before continuing to push his dick all the way inside of you. As soon as his hips connect with yours, he stops to check on you.

You whine at the feeling of being so full, a feeling you haven’t felt in a while. You look into Ace’s eyes and shakily tell him to resume.

He nods down at you, adjusting himself on his forearms and beginning to shallowly thrust into you. You rest your head on the dead grass underneath it and let out a breathy moan from the sensation. Seeing that you were clearly okay, Ace’s demeanor returns to the same teasing one he had before.

“Fuck, you feel so good, angel. Mm, taking daddy’s cock so well.”

His words only add to the intoxicating feeling of his dick thrusting into you. It’s addicting, and you want more of it.

“Ah...ha-ah! Ace...m-more, please!” if you were to listen to your voice back, you wouldn’t believe that it was you. Shy and quiet you who always loved to fade into the background, now moaning loudly on an older man’s cock.

“Ha...yeah? You want more? Huh? My babydoll wants more?”

You nod and moan out a desperate “please”. Ace grants you your wish, not only thrusting into your pussy harder, but faster too. God, he wants everything about this burned into his memory, not just the way you feel, but how you look too. Your eyebrows knitted together, eyes closed, and lips parted, letting out loud, needy moans. Oh yeah, he wants to have your noises burned into his mind as well.

While continuing to thrust into you, he moves one of his hands down to your clit, stroking it with his thumb once more. You cry out at the added pleasure and arch your back upwards towards him, hands tightening on his shoulders and your hole tightening around his dick. That coil in your stomach had returned, and the tension in your gut was now growing from each thrust and stroke Ace was delivering to your body. Fuck, you definitely weren’t going to last much longer.

“Oh...mm-fuck! A-Ace-ha! Ah...‘m close!” you sob as white, hot pleasure flows through your veins.

“Yeah? Yo-you wanna cum, huh? Go on, then-fuck! Cum all over daddy’s cock, angel,” he moans out, clearly getting closer to cumming himself according to his groans and thrusts becoming sloppy.

Your toes begin to curl and tears of pleasure start to flow down your cheeks. Your moans become screams and your vision goes white as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Ace lets out a strangled “fuck” as you squeeze his dick, slowing his thrusts but not his assault on your clit, working you through your high as he did when he was fingering you.

You really didn’t want to come down from your high, especially when Ace started thrusting into you again, chasing his own orgasm. He only slows himself when he feels his cock twitch inside of you.

“Oh f-fuck...where-mm!” he struggles to get out, but you understand what he’s asking.

“I-In-oh God, Ace! In!”

With that, you feel a warmth beginning to fill you as he moaned loudly, cumming deep inside of you. After that, he buries his face into your neck, the only sounds now being that of crickets, the lake, and both of your pants. You both feel exhausted but blissed out of your minds.

Eventually, Ace pulls out of you and rolls onto his back besides you. Fuck, that was amazing. Not only because he hasn’t had sex in a while because of, well, you know, but also because it was sex that wasn’t for the purpose of just scratching an itch. No, what you two just did was miles better.

He turns his head to look at you. Your eyes are closed and your breathing is slowly going back to normal. He smiles at your sleepy expression and rolls onto his side to pull you to his chest. You let out a tired hum and nuzzle your face into Ace, while he rubs your back and holds you close.

“Rest up, beautiful. You deserve it.”

#dead by daylight #dbd #dead by daylight x reader #dbd x reader #ace visconti #ace visconti x fem!reader #ace visconti x reader #x reader #rita writes

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parragone · 1 year ago

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One day I'll publish all of these. Anyway! Thatcher and Mute, while Thstcher is trying desperately to figure out who the fuck decided to put a teenager through SAS selection

The fact of the matter was that someone far higher than he was aware was pulling strings in preparation for something. To make matters worse, he knew about the whole ordeal. He, Cowden, and Porter had been the only members of the SAS to be directly informed of the boy being underage, and that was only after they had hauled the kid back from Belize to finish out the training. Someone was doing more than planning; they had their operators picked out, which meant they had a solid plan of action and intent.

They knew what they wanted.

The door opened, and Mike looked up to find a now mostly-dry young man standing just inside the doorway. He gestured for Mark to come sit next to him, and soon enough, they were sitting near to each other; Mark set his phone face-down in front of him and folded his hands over top of it. It was astonishing how difficult the boy was to read, even without the mask, and Mike wondered when he'd learned to hide so well. Mike pushed over the papers before he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled as he tapped his thumbs together.

“You know your rank, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. I’ve been named a lieutenant.” Mark thumbed through the papers with a quiet bewilderment. “These are my transcripts - my designs and patents.”

“Aye, they are,” Mike confirmed. “With an academic doctorate, you should have been placed higher, but you’re a damn kid. The fact you’re serving at all is a fucking nightmare. As a lieutenant, you outrank me. If we were standard troops, I’d be the one calling you 'sir'. Given that we’re not, and you’re currently being treated as a member of my squad, we’ll address each other formally but without rank.”

Mark froze where he sat, his eyes locked on the papers in his hands before he slowly lifted his head. His brows furrowed together with a look of utter disbelief as he quietly gestured between himself and Mike, which was only confirmed as the older man nodded. The confusion seemed to get worse.

“Baker, sir, you’re - you’re like twice my age-”

“Thrice, actually.”

“That makes it worse!” Mark dropped the papers. “I can’t outrank you! I don’t even know what I’m-”

The way the boy stopped and seemed to shrink made Mike’s gears turn in the worst kind of way. He leaned forward on his elbows and interlocked his fingers as he set his shoulders. “Be honest, Chandar, do you want to be here?”

“I can’t-”

“You can. This isn’t an interrogation, and nobody’s gonna hold it against you for telling me the truth. Not like anyone else is gonna know your answer anyway,” Mike said as he tried to keep his tone as even as he could. “You’re not even legal, but they threw you in with the best of the best and told you to swim. It’s a fucking shock you passed selection, let alone as well as you did, but you managed and here we are. Now, spill - did you want to be here or not?”

Silence hung in the air for what felt like ten minutes or more. The engineer avoided his eyes, shrunk in on himself the same way his own children once did when they thought they were in trouble, and seemed to focus on the transcripts. It was an understandable reaction, even if it was a frustrating one.

The boy was smart. Too smart for his own good, quick to pick up on new ideas and faster to implement them. His coordination and communication skills were poor in controlled environments, but excellent on the field; he had risked his own success at escape and evasion training to get two other prospects out of a sticky situation, and his squad credited their high performance in Belize to his calm head, even if an oyster had better socialization skills.

Except, and this was key in Mike’s assessment, leadership was a trait Mark Chandar denied.

“No, I didn’t.”

Mark’s words pulled Mike out of his thoughts, and the older man leaned back in his chair. “Then how’d you get here?”

“They gave me a choice. Said it was because I was too clever for my own good,” Mark explained quietly as he tidied the papers. “I was too good at breaking codes and finding information, too quick to be trusted. Said that if I didn’t take the offer, they’d have me under surveillance for the rest of my life. I’d never be allowed to leave the country. Anyone I interacted with would be scrutinized. They said I was too dangerous to let anyone else get me as an asset, even though I did nothing wrong.”

“They picked your ass up because you’re smart?” He sounded incredulous. “I mean, damn, your scores are good but-”

“They picked me up because I broke into GCHQ’s systems with a laptop and home internet,” Mark corrected, his tone defeated. “They picked me up because for some goddamn reason, I thought I could go ahead and break every code standing between someone and classified documents and not get caught. I was fifteen when I did it, sixteen when the GCHQ told me to either sign up or live under watch."

#wip weekend #r6s #thatcher #mute #give me more of thatcher being a begrudging dad

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house-afire · 10 months ago

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he was us (Ed/Izzy, Ed/Jack, omegaverse)

Prompt: 100 words of studding

Ed lets Jack do the actual procuring. There’s nothing Jack likes better than trawling ports for omegas, the wetter and sloppier the better, and anyone who’d let Jack in their pussy is clearly up for anything. Ed himself is proof of that: he’s just finished washing Jack’s come out of the thatch of curls ’tween his legs. (Jack never finishes inside. He likes making a mess.)

Getting Ed studded, properly dicked-up like a captain should be, will be messier than anything else they’ve done, so it’s no wonder Jack’s so fucking excited.

Ed is … nervy. Which isn’t the same thing as being nervous. It’s fucking weird, that’s all—the idea of trading out his cunt for a cock.

But afterwards, everybody’s gonna look at him and know who he is. They won’t say that he’s pretty or delicate or too goddam clever for his own good, doesn’t he know that he’s supposed to be sweet?

His mother was sweet. Never asked for anything in her life and never got it, either. Ed’s all through asking, asking’s yesterday’s news. Piracy means you can have whatever you want, so long as you’re willing to be a degenerate fucking monster to get it. Ed knows what shit costs. Always has, always will.

Jack opens the door into the wall—fucker can never come into a room normally—and announces, “Last chance to change your mind! Tell me quick, or I’m gonna wind up taking this fucker myself.”

Ed can smell the other omega. He’s got a harsh, sharp scent, like salt and strong lye soap with none of the little herbs Ed likes; it’s a bit weird, to be honest, but if Jack’s about a second away from knotting the guy up against the wall, it might smell better to an alpha.

Doesn’t matter anyway. If everything goes according to plan—and Ed’s willing to go walkabout on Hornigold, if he has to, and overstay his shore leave face-first in this soapy omega, so the plan is cruisey—all he’s really going to be smelling, the whole studding, is cunt.

“I’m not changing my mind,” he says. “Bring him in.”

Jack gives a drunken cheer and hauls the man in, but Ed barely has a chance to look at him before Jack is falling on his knees and giving Ed’s pussy some rapturous, teary-eyed attention.

And—since it’s Jack—a slobbery smack of a kiss and an enthusiastic rub of his fucking mustache.

“Bye, Blackie’s cunt,” Jack says solemnly. “We had ourselves a good run.”

“Oh, get the fuck out of here,” Ed says, but he laughs anyway, so Jack just grins at him, victorious, and surges to his feet.

“Take care of him,” he tells the strange omega, who is watching all this with a crease between his brows, looking like it’s a language he can’t fucking parse. Jack takes in that expression, laughs in the guy’s face, slaps him on the shoulder so hard he staggers, and galumphs back down the stairs of the inn.

“Sorry,” Ed says. “He’s—a lot.”

He has a chance to take in the other omega now, and—nose-scouring scent aside—he can admit Jack made a good choice. He’s an old fucker—well, older than Ed, and Ed will probably never live to be whatever-the-fuck age he’s at, so old enough—which is supposed to help somehow. Like his slick’s aged like the good wine Ed’s only ever had drunk from stolen bottles. And he’s flushed and damp, trembling on the edge of a heat.

“He said you need someone to stud you,” the man says in a thin, raspy voice.

“Sorta. I need somebody I can use to stud myself.” Ed’s been working on big-dick alpha energy. “Is that you?”

“Won’t know until you fucking try, will you?” The man bares his teeth in a smile.

“You’ve got some crazy energy, man,” Ed says. “Can’t decide whether I like it or not. I’m Blackbeard.”

Oh, shit—Ed only gets hot for alphas, as a rule of thumb, but the flicker of recognition and interest in this fucker’s eyes when he hears Ed’s name is fucking fire. Nobody’s ever recognized him before.

“You’ve heard of me,” he says, almost in a purr.

The man gives a tight little shrug. “Hear a lot. Didn’t know you were an omega.”

“Won’t be, after tonight. Or however long it takes. What’s your name?”

“Izzy.”

Ed doesn’t think it suits him, and then he thinks it does—those z’s, sharp little saw-blade letters, that dangly y that could stretch out forever. It’s a name meant to be shouted across a deck. Hissed in a command. He doesn’t have to ask if Izzy’s a pirate too. Ed’s hot shit when it comes to just knowing.

There aren’t many omega pirates out there, but there are some. Ed’s never known one to last without either a mate or a buddy like Jack, though—somebody to fuck them silly when needs must. Izzy does not have the vibes of somebody who’s ever been fucked silly in his life.

“You ever try getting studded?” Ed asks. It’s none of his business, yeah, but he can never keep his fingers out of a pie—or an open fucking wound. He likes to see what’s inside. See how shit works.

“Didn’t take,” Izzy says briskly. “It’s why your man thought I was right for the job. I tried four times. Didn’t seem worth going back for a fifth.”

“Fuck,” Ed says, strangely impressed even though it also sounds like a fucking nightmare, honestly, being stuck like that. “You’re like a super-omega. Bet you’re deeper and wetter, somehow.”

“Yeah. Men have gotten lost inside my cunt, never to be seen again. Are we fucking doing this or not? You worried you’ll end up like me?”

“Nah.” Ed strips his trousers back off and flops on the bed. “Nah to the worrying, I mean. Never worry. Yes to the fucking.”

#edward teach #izzy hands #calico jack rackham #ed/izzy #ed/jack #omegaverse

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kayleecane · 1 year ago

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addict : a tweek tweak fic

a loud, angry smack against leather sounds throughout the room, bouncing off of the concrete walls. tweek steps back from the punching bag, raising a hand to wipe the sweat dripping down his forehead. he sighed heavily while looking at the moisture newly covering the back of his hand.

tweek wasn’t planning on coming to the gym today, but after running out of his house in frustrated tears an hour or two ago, driving here was subconscious. thinking back on it, his eyes started to burn again.

kenny had approached him in the coffee shop earlier that day, which wasn’t unusual, they had become friends in middle school. but what offset tweek was the unreadable emotions on his face. it was so unlike his normal, carefree expressions.

“hey, tweekers. can we talk?” he asked, eyebrows pulling together in a weird way when tweek chugged his tumblr full of coffee before answering.

“uh, sure man. is it anything bad-?” kenny just shrugged, so he twitched uncomfortably, setting his drink down and glancing around the shop. it was empty, so he pushed the back door open and brought kenny outside.

“wh- what’s up, ken?” he leaned against the bumpy concrete of the wall, shifting a little as it poked into his back. kenny sighed heavily.

“look, dude. this is kinda super hard for me to say, okay? so, uh.. i’m just gonna come right on out with it. you know how every monday, you come over to my house at night to pick up that bag?” kenny started, moving his weight from one leg to the other. tweek watched him, squinting a little.

“the coffee grounds? yeah, why..?” tweek crossed his arms over his stomach as he felt a wave of anxiety wash over him, that was normal for him, though.

kenny sucked it a breath. “have you.. ever thought of why you come to my house for ‘coffee grounds’?” tweek shrugged, “of course i have man.. but my dad told me not to worry about it, so..” he shook his head, “just get on with it, why are you talking about this right now?” kenny looked down.

“what you pick up every week…it’s meth. not coffee grounds.”

tweek went completely still, maybe for the first time in his life. “…what?”

“my parents make meth and sell it to your parents. your parents put it into the coffee so people will get addicted to it. you’re… y’know.”

tweek scoffed out a laugh, “this isn’t funny dude. did cartman put you up to this? go mess with butters, not me.” he turned away from kenny, moving to go back into the coffee shop.

“i’m not kidding! listen to me, tweek.” kenny pleaded, grabbing tweek’s wrist. “i couldn’t just keep it from you. i don’t.. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier.” tweek looked back at the other blonde, staring into his violet eyes desperately, looking for any signs that kenny was lying.

of course there weren’t any. ken was probably the most honest kid in this town. “…i have to go home.” tweek mumbled, pulling his hand out of kenny’s hold.

kenny frowned, wringing his hands in his baggy, hand-me-down jeans. “text me if you need me, okay? i want to help however i can.” and with that, he left. tweek let out a heavy breath, sprinting back into the shop and grabbing all of his things before leaving in a rush, not even bothering to lock the front doors.

while he was driving home, his breathing quickened, what was he going to say to his parents? oh god, what would he say to craig?! surely he wouldn’t want to date an addict, unknowing or not.

tweek’s eyes widened as the word seeped into his veins, slipping into the marrow of his bones, wrapping around the mush of his brain and squeezing as hard as it can.

addict.

tweek tweak, a meth addict at the ripe old age of fifteen years old…tweek tweak, a meth addict since before he was even seven years old.

tears filled his eyes as he swerved into the driveway of his house. turning the car off, tweek didn’t even grab his phone from the passenger seat before running into the house.

the first thing he heard was humming. his mother was in the kitchen, scrubbing away at the dishes in the sink. she didn’t bother to look back as she called out, “tweek, is that you? your shift isn’t over for another four hours.”

tweek couldn’t think. “..mom, why- what’s in the bag that you make me get every week?” he mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear him.

“our special coffee grounds, tweek. you know this. why are you asking?” tweek moved into the kitchen, body drained of everything in it, he was pale, knees shaking, cheek twitching uncontrollably. tweek could feel everything going on in his knocky, too-tall, addict body.

“don’t lie to me, mom. what is it? is it really meth?” he stared at the back of his mother’s head, the humming quieted, before stopping completely. tweek waited for an answer, but it was like his mother shut down. like someone turned her off. the only thing that made tweek know that she was even still alive was the aggressive scrubbing, the sponge squeaking painfully against the poor plate that she was currently cleaning.

tweek cracked, his face contorting before he let out a weak sob. he knew it was true. that was all she had to do. this was all she ever did. “mom.” he croaked out.

“mama..” he cried in barely concealed anger, sorrow, he didn’t even know what he felt anymore. “answer me. look at me. please… look at me, mama.” he gripped the back of her dress, tears falling onto the floor in front of him.

tweek felt like he was five. tiny hands begging for his mother’s love and attention, sobbing when all she did was ignore him. seeking comfort in his plushies and pillows. tweek would surround himself in them as tightly as he could, pretending it was his parents holding him instead of his own thin arms.

fifteen year old tweek didn’t do that anymore. he pushed all of his feelings down until they erupted, and he started sobbing uncontrollably, just like this moment.

his mother just kept on scrubbing. scratch, scratch, squeak. tweek’s mind spiraled, everything blurred. he ripped the plate from his mother’s hands and threw it as hard as he could, it smashed against the wall, and along with his heart, it shattered into a hundred pieces.

helen barely even twitched. “god- fuck, what is wrong with you?! look at me! look at what you did to me!” tweek grabbed her by her shoulders, tears fully streamed down his face now, he didnt even have the will to look up at richard as he came down the stairs.

“what is going on down here? now tweek, let your mother go this instant.” richard was calm as he spoke. too calm. did he even care about what was happening?! tweek stared down at helen’s eyes, they were void, staring down at the floor. for the first time in what felt like forever, she spoke. “tweek, honey.. you’ll understand-“ tweek cut her off quickly, pulling back from her and letting out a weak laugh.

“..whatever, dude.” he shook his head, pushed past richard carelessly, and left the house.

which brought him back to this moment, sitting on the gym floor, it was strangely empty. tweek couldn’t tell if he liked that or not. he hadn’t even called craig yet, to tell him anything about what had happened.

all tweek knew was that he could not go home, there’s no way. he pulled out his phone, staring down at the picture of him and craig as his lockscreen. he blinked, smiling tiredly.

he called craig, putting the phone against his ear and standing up. as he waited for his boyfriend to answer, he lifted himself onto and off of his tiptoes repeatedly nervously.

the phone made a quiet cracking sound, and a familiar, nasally voice sounded through the speaker. “hello?” craig sounded tired. “hi. sorry, were you sleeping?” tweek spoke softly, looping the hem of his shirt around his index finger.

“napping, but it’s fine, honey. what’s up?” there was a shuffling sound on the other end of the phone, and tweek sighed quietly. “..a lot. i ran away from home.”

there was silence for a couple moments, tweek gave craig a minute to process, hell, tweek’s nowhere near close to processing it yet. he could hear craig breathe in deeply, “ok, come over.” tweek mumbled out an ‘ok’ and ended the call, gathering all of his things, getting back in his car for the fourth time that day.

craig was waiting on his porch for tweek as he got to his house. tweek was barely out of the car before he was pulled into a warm hug, craig’s arms slithered snugly around his waist. tweek leaned his head on craig’s shoulder and closed his eyes, he was too tired to cry.

craig didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. he knew this was all tweek wanted. he gently guided the blonde boy inside, where he was met with craig’s mother. “hi.. mrs. tucker.” she smiled sadly at him, taking his hands in hers. “oh, mijo. come, come.” she gently pulled him to the couch, sitting him down.

“do you want to talk about it?” she asked tweek, still holding his hands. craig placed his hand on tweek’s knee, grounding him. tweek thought for a moment. “my-“ he paused, laura and craig waited for him, he took in a deep breath, and he told them everything. about the meth, how his mom acted like a thoughtless robot, how his dad never did anything ever.

tweek looked over to craig as he finished, and was surprised to see the boy tearing up, gripping his knee hard. craig was never one to cry, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes was the closest tweek had ever seen to it. “oh, man.. please don’t cry, craig.” he pleaded, guilt filling his heart.

craig wiped his tears, blinking them away. “i fucking hate your parents.“ was all he said, and tweek laughed weakly. laura stood up, “you must be exhausted from today, honey. come on, you can stay here as long as you need to.”

she pulled tweek up, “craig, please take him to your room.” craig nodded, wrapping an arm around tweek’s shoulder and taking him up the stairs and into his room.

craig’s room was cozy, no bright lights that blinded tweek and gave him a headache like at school. just soft yellow string lights and a galaxy protector pointed at his wall lit the room up. stripe slept comfortably in her cage. tweek and craig laid down on the bed, craig moved onto his back and pulled tweek close to him. they could hear laura and thomas speaking loudly downstairs, laura sounded like she was on the phone.

craig combed his fingers through tweek’s hair, gently untangling it. “i’ll help you through this, i promise.” and all tweek could do was hum softly before he passed out, lulled to sleep by craig’s soft but firm touches.

tweek didn’t have his plushies and pillows anymore, but craig was better than those anyway.

#sp tweek #tweekxcraig #south park #south park fanfiction #creek #tweek tweak

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