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lottesreads · 2 months ago

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Why Me? - Part 13

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, some fluff, lying, allusions of abuse, swearing, mentions of sleeping in a car

Word Count: 5500

Summary: The aftermath of what you've done hits you like a truck. Bob is just as blindsided by what you told him, and it's time the two of you have a real honest talk.

A/N: Hello everyone!! I can't believe my last post was in September, it makes me so sad. Anyway, I've been having the worst writers block as well as dealing with work and school, it's been so great. I thought I'd give you a shorter chapter to hold you over, and just thank all of you for sticking around. Enjoy, and happy reading!!

Masterlist

The steadying rhythm of your breathing is what lulled Bob to sleep. A sleep he might add where he didn’t dream. There were no visions of you pulling him closer, or kissing his cheek, his face, his hands. There wasn’t a part of him wondering what it would be like because that’s exactly what he fell asleep to. He’s already living it. For last night at least.

A whine from the side of his bed is what finally wakes him from his dreamless state. He goes to move his head toward the noise, but is swiftly deterred as you stir in his arms. A shift in the night must have caused you to fully wrap yourself around him. Nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, he tries not to shiver at your breath against his skin. He doesn’t think it’s real until he rubs your shoulder through the t-shirt he gave you last night. Your arm tightens around his stomach and for a second he thinks you’re waking up. Until you release another deep breath and he knows this is real. You’re really here.

Sylvia pulls at the side of his sheets with another whine. Glancing over at her, she sits patiently with her head tilted in his direction. Without another look, she walks over to the door, staring at it as if she’s willing it to open on its own. Bob wouldn’t be surprised if the one dog he adopted from the shelter had crazy telekinetic powers, especially this little weirdo. But that’s why he loves her.

With a silenced groan, he lets his head fall back just to take in this moment for one second longer. His hand runs across the smooth skin of your arm around his midsection as he breathes you in. You’re so warm and soft and he doesn’t want to get up. But he doesn’t want to be cleaning up pee at- he slowly picks up his phone from his side table- 7:00 a.m.

Ever so gently he untucks your face from his shoulder, resting your head on his pillow while your arm drapes over the unkempt sheets on his side. He watches you for a second, his hands outstretched over you as if he could keep you from waking if he held still for a moment longer. Without even a wiggle of your fingers, he follows Sylvia to the door, releasing her from the confines of the room as she rushes down the stairs and straight to the back door.

The rain has slowed to a small drizzle, clouds still clogging the sky. A rush of cold air flows into the house as Sylvia runs to the yard. He can’t help the goosebumps that crawl up his arms as he closes the door behind him. Even living this close to the ocean, the rain dampened breeze still remains the cleanest air he’s ever been able to breathe. It reminds him of you.

Not just because he held you close all night, breathing in the scent of rain from your skin and hair. But also because he can really, truly just breathe around you. Especially when he’s not trying to pretend around other people.

He takes in another deep breath before Sylvia’s done and running to the door to go back inside. Her paws pad to the kitchen as she stands in front of her bowl. Just staring.

“Oh, I guess you’re hungry now, too?”, he whispers. He laughs as she tilts her head. He fills her bowl with food, slightly cringing at the echo of it hitting the metal. Last he left you, you were in a pretty deep sleep. He’s only hoping this wasn’t the thing to wake you. The way you didn’t even flinch when he left your side. He didn’t even think it was possible for you to embed yourself even further into his brain until last night. He only hopes you don’t regret it when you wake up. Even if you do, he’s not going to force you into something you don’t want to be a part of. But god, does he want to go all in with you. What that looks like he’s not sure. All he knows is that breathing is easier when you’re with him. And he’ll take anything you’re willing to give him.

Rubbing his hands down his face, Bob walks to the bathroom. Everything’s a little blurry without his glasses, but just walking around his house is something he can manage. After washing his hands, he splashes cold water on his face. Just to make sure he really wasn’t dreaming. And as if the universe had the answer for him, he spots your clothes hanging over the shower curtain in the mirror. Not just your clothes. Your bra and underwear. Which means the only thing you’re wearing right now are his clothes.

Good lord, he needs to get a grip. Being the gentleman his mama raised him to be, he rids himself of the impulsive thought to look over your… intimates, while folding them up in your wet clothes and taking them to the dryer.

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

Oh dear god everything smells like him. Wiping the sleep from your eyes you notice the clothes you’re wearing. Even you smell like him. Wait. Where even is he? It isn’t until you hear the patter of Sylvia’s paws coming from downstairs that you take in a breath of relief. Why you were so worried he would have left his own house you don’t know. But you take a calming breath and steady yourself before taking a look at Bob’s room in the light of day. Or rather the muffled light from behind the clouds outside. There’s a couple scattered pieces of clothing, not any different from any other person. He’s still much tidier than yourself. Your eyes catch on his glasses, simply sitting on his nightstand. You smile at the sight. Just staring at them makes you feel like he’s close.

The sound of something sizzling in a frying pan and the scent of cinnamon and sugar welcomes you as you descend the stairs. Bob’s back is to you as he faces the stove, humming a song you can’t decipher. You watch while he flips whatever he’s cooking. His forearms flex as he lifts the pan, until you’re staring at his chest while he turns around to place what looks like french toast on a plate.

“That smells really good”, you compliment him as he flinches.

“Holy mother-”, he exclaims, attempting not to drop the pan. His eyes grow comically wide as you try to hide your laughter.

“Sorry”, you chuckle.

“No, it’s ok. I just didn’t see you there”, he smiles as he squints in your direction. And you’re reminded of what you swiped from his side of the bed.

“Well how could you? You’re not wearing these”, you ask as you lift his glasses in your hand.

“I’m not completely blind, ya know?”, he defends. He still extends his hand as you pad across the kitchen, giving his glasses to him. His eyes adjust as he puts them on. He immediately looks at you and you grant him a small smile. He gives one right back.

“Hi”, you whisper.

“Hi”, he whispers back. Clearing his throat he motions to the plate of french toast on the counter. “Made some breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“Starving”, you say, pouring syrup all over your helping. “It just so happens that french toast is my favorite.”

“I thought it might be”, he says while plating up his own. You furrow your brow as he sits next to you.

“Why’d you think that?”

“It’s what you ordered when we went to brunch with Phoenix and Rachel”, he responds so casually while he takes a bite. You can’t help but stop and stare at him.

“What?”, he asks, swallowing a mouth full of french toast.

“You remember that?”

“Yeah”, he shrugs. Smiling down at your plate, you take a bite and melt at the cinnamon mapley goodness.

“Bob”, you can’t help but moan, “This is so good.”

“Glad to hear it”, he smiles as he takes another bite. The two of you continue to eat your breakfast under the light patter of rain.

“Is this something you make often?”, you ask in between taking bites of this moan-worthy breakfast.

“Um”, he laughs, “Sometimes. It’s my grandma’s recipe and I try to leave it to the master. Although she hasn’t made it for me since I last slept over. Which was-”, he huffs out a breath trying to find the memory.

“You’re telling me you didn’t have a sleepover at your grandma’s last time you were on leave?”

“Oh yeah, everytime I have leave I’m headed straight to Gammy’s for a sleepover”, he laughs. “But her french toast was always my grandpa’s favorite.”

“Is this your grandpa with the penny?”

“Yeah”, he laughs, “That’s Pappy Floyd for ya.” The two of you continue to eat your breakfast as the rain settles as the perfect backdrop for this lazy morning. When you’re finished you immediately start tending to the dishes in the sink.

“Hey-”, you cut Bob off before he has the chance to protest.

“Floyd, don’t even try to stop me from taking care of a few dishes after you just made me breakfast”, you scold him with a soapy hand. He surrenders with his hands in the air, but soon follows you to rinse and dry what you’ve scrubbed.

It’s quiet. Calm. This feels normal, which in turn makes you feel odd in your chest. His shoulder brushes yours every once in a while and the odd feeling appears in bursts with it. You could see yourself standing next to this man doing dishes for the rest of your- Whoa.

Ok, one dish at a time here. You still haven’t even talked about last night. And it’s creating this itch under your skin. One that you know you have to scratch, but you don’t want him to look at you while you do it.

Unsure of what to do after finishing the last dish, you stare out the window in front of you. It’s stormy outside, clouds covering the once blue and sunny San Diego sky. It’s not unwelcome as the winds calm, just different.

Bob places the last dish to dry and watches as you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. It reveals the bruise he couldn’t tear his eyes away from last night, and it makes him feel protective again. Like for some reason he should have been there to stop it from happening. Even if it was an accident. He doesn’t want you to hurt. And most of all he doesn’t want to be the one to hurt you. If he goes along with what he thinks you want to do, he is risking your entire career. But if he doesn’t? He’ll miss out on the best thing he thinks will ever happen to him. You.

“Hey”, he grabs your attention, breaking the silence. “We should talk.” You nod solemnly, the domestic morning forgotten as he leads you to sit on the couch again. You knew this was coming. Ok, you don’t know exactly what’s coming, but you try your best to quiet that voice in the back of your head telling you the worst outcomes. You try to ignore it, but as Bob sits in front of you and his mouth starts moving you realize you aren’t paying attention to him at all.

“I’m sorry-”, you shake your head, “What did you say?” His mouth twitches in the corner before he repeats himself.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“Yeah”, you nod to convince yourself you’re doing alright. “Definitely feeling ok. Just a little embarrassed.”

“About what?”, he asks as you look anywhere but at him.

“I don’t know, just showing up completely unannounced last night. And dumping all my thoughts onto you. And now I feel… stupid.” Playing with a thread on the couch cushion, you mumble the last part.

“That’s not stupid. I actually think it’s very brave. The driving through a storm part though, that was stupid.” You breathe a laugh out through your nose as he smiles.

“I know. I just- I had to talk to you. And now… Before you say anything, just know that I don’t ever want to put you in a position to make you do something you don’t want to. But the way I see it, we both know how we feel, now we just have to decide if we want to do something about it.” He chews on his lip while he reaches for your hand.

“Mantis, you mean a great deal to me-”, here it comes. The other shoe is about to drop, and you tell yourself you knew it was too good to be true the entire time. “I just don’t want you to go through with this and regret it.” Regret me, he means.

“Bob”, you try to find the words, “Every regret I have is not doing something. I’m not going to let this slip away from us.” He holds your gaze in silence. “Not if we both feel like this is something worth exploring.”

“I think this is very worth exploring.” That funny feeling crawls from your stomach to your throat. The good kind that turns sour once you realize what it means you’ll have to do to carry this through.

“If we do this, no one can know.” The conversation takes a solemn turn as your hard gaze bores into him. He hangs on to your every word, making sure he doesn’t miss anything. “Not Phoenix, Fanboy, or anyone from work. Not even our families.”

“And if you change your mind? If you-”, get sick of me, realize I’m not actually what you want, “Realize it’s not worth the risk?” He asks with a grimace. You squeeze his hand with a reassuring tenderness, hearing his unspoken thoughts.

“Let’s make a rule right now: No more lying to each other. We can have complete and open communication, so long as no one else knows about what we have going on, ok?” He nods and squeezes your hand. You pause and take a deep breath in before rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “And if either of us want out of this for whatever reason, we have to walk away. So long as the reason isn’t for the other person. No self sacrificing on the other person’s account. It’s fine if we think it’s too risky for ourselves, but we both get to decide where that point is.”

“Ok”, his soft voice washes over you. This is really happening. Oh god. This is really happening. Your heart wants to float out of your body, but you know the secrecy that comes with it. Your heart beating is trying to override the doubts clouding your mind and- You’ve never felt this way about someone before and Bob is just… perfect. This has to work.

“So what now?”, his question breaks you out of your train of thought.

“I don’t know”, you laugh and shake your head, “I didn’t think this far ahead.”

“Oh, you mean when you were driving and running though a hurricane?”

“I mean, yes?”

“Yeah, just- don’t do that again”, he tries to jokingly reprimand you. The grip of his hand tells you he’s really not laughing.

“I’ll try not to”, you respond behind a small smirk. He meets your gaze and you almost want to hide. It’s one thing confessing your feelings to him under the influence of adrenaline, it’s another having him just look at you. You’ve never felt so naked before under someone’s eyes. He clears his throat before looking back down at your joined hands.

“I’m a little rusty, but I think what happens now is that I take you out.” You can’t help the blush that rises from your neck to your cheeks. You don’t even remember the last time someone asked you out, let alone someone you really liked.

“Are you asking me on a date, Floyd?”, you ask under an involuntary smirk. He tries to hide his smile underneath the nodding of his head, but it’s no use. You tilt your head to get a better look at his child-like grin before he looks up.

“I think I am, Mitchell.” There’s a whisper of doubt still lingering in your head, much like the fog outside. He must see your smile drop slightly as you wonder aloud.

“Are you sure?” He turns his hand over so he’s holding yours now, and he squeezes as he pulls to make sure you’re listening.

“I wanna do this right, so if you’ll have me I’d really like to take you out. And- I know we’ll have to be careful.. But I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.” You would give him the world if you could. Wrap it up in a nice bow and place it in his hands, but you know what he means. There are going to be limits to how this thing between the two of you plays out.

“Ok”, you whisper.

“Yeah?”, he asks, almost in disbelief. Like you weren’t practically begging him to do something just moments ago.

“Yeah”, you smile, “Let’s go on a date.” And then there’s a moment. Another moment where it’s only the two of you, nothing else exists except for you and Bob. You can’t help it as your eyes drift to where Bob’s teeth pull at his bottom lip out of nerves. It makes you feel bad for doubting him at all, but you would do anything right now to tear his lip from his own torture. Maybe provide some relief of your own. But no- you have to take this slow. Do this right. Like Bob said. It still doesn’t stop the pull you feel for him, though.

But as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough, the buzz of your phone from the coffee table rouses you from this moment.

“Oh shit”, you mumble as your dad’s name pops up on the screen. “Umm”, you stall as you try not to panic. Bob’s eyes are already wide as they switch between the phone in your hand and your face. “Don’t make a sound. Ok”, you say with a breath. Braving the unknown you tap the answer button.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?”, you ask as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.

“Hey!”, he responds, and you immediately know he has no clue you left. If he did, he would have started this phone call in a much less cheery mood. “Good to know you survived the storm”, he laughs in relief.

“Yeah”, you respond, if only he knew. “Same to you.”

“Listen, it’s still a bit wet out there but it’s slowing down. So as soon as it stops enough for me to get my bike outta here, I’ll head over.” As your father’s speaking, Bob eyes Sylvia out of the corner of his eye, huffing at her lack of attention. He eyes her as a warning, and knowing he’s all talk, she huffs her first bark. You cough in hopes to cover the noise.

“Sorry”, you apologize through another fake cough, “So when do you think that will be?” You watch as Bob chases Sylvia to the back door, herding her outside for the moment.

“Well, my phone is telling me it’s not raining right now but-”, he grunts and you know he’s moving to look out the window, “It’s still going over here at Penny’s. By my guess, I’d say it’ll slow down in an hour, and I’ll be home by then.” Your gaze moves from the window back to where Bob is standing at the back door, waiting for you to be done to let Sylvia back in. Your stomach turns sour when you realize your time with Bob this morning will be cut short.

“Ok, sounds good. I’ll see you then!”, you reply in a happier tone than you’re feeling.

“Alright, see you soon kiddo”, you can still hear him breathing when you tap the red button. He’s always waited until you hang up first, something he’s done since you were a kid. It was either that or the line would get cut short from him running out of time on the carrier. Even then you’d both talk until it stopped. There were the few odd times he’d ask to talk to your mom, and sometimes you downright refused. It was your time with your dad, not hers.

Sylvia’s paws tap on the hardwood as she walks with Bob in tow back to the couch. You scratch her ears as Bob sits again, waiting to hear the verdict of the call.

“My dad’s going to be home soon”, you say as you watch Sylvia wander off. Bob nods, a furrow appearing in his brow as he thinks.

“How soon?”

“Said in the next hour”, you whisper as you lean your side into the couch cushions, getting a better look at Bob’s face. “I should leave before he gets back.”

“What about your car?”. Shit. You completely forgot about your stupid (up until now, loyal) car. Attempting to run both hands down your face in frustration, you stop immediately on your right side as you’re so pleasantly reminded of the bruise painting your cheek. As you flinch, Bob’s hand comes to hold your hurting side, delicately brushing his thumb just below the discoloration.

You can’t help but lean into the touch, your eyes following his arm up to his face where you melt just a little more at his slight frown. You both don’t want for you to leave. But if you keep going with this, even after your date, this is how it’s going to be. Lying, keeping secrets. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but you feel bad implicating Bob in your transgressions. Even now you don’t want to leave the bubble in his living room.

“This is going to be hard”, you whisper in warning as you hold his hand to your cheek. His frown ticks downward just a smidge as he stares back at you.

“I know”, he sighs, “But it’ll be worth it.” This gets you to smile, and in turn Bob mirrors your expression.

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

Sometime while you were still sleeping, Bob had so thoughtfully placed your clothes in the dryer. You try to ignore the fact that he handled your bra and underwear, but all it does is make you laugh internally at the thought. You’re so sure he must have blushed when he realized your clothes were hanging in his bathroom.

You’re both quiet as he leads you to his familiar truck in the garage. But you’re not shying away from him either. The realization of what you have both decided to do is setting in and it’s…exciting. Well, exciting and scary. No different than the feelings you’ve had before. But it’s easier knowing you’re not alone. Especially as the man in reference opens your door before stepping in on his own side.

He gives you a brief smile before taking a deep breath. You do the same as the garage door opens. The sky is clearing and he lets the light come in. Once safely backed out, he takes your hand from its spot in your lap like he’s done it a million times before. And truly, it felt like he had. That smile however is wiped from your face as you round the street and find your car- crushed completely under a toppled over palm tree. Whoever said it never rains in southern California is a fucking liar.

Bob pulls off to the opposite side of the road as the two of you stare in shocked silence. The roof of your car is completely sunken in as the palm leaves sway with the now gentle winds. And all you can do is laugh. Bob looks at you with a raise of his brow, still a very concerned look in his eye.

“Ok, so… I definitely didn’t think the weather was that bad when I was driving last night”, you chortle.

“What-”, he asks now wildly gesturing back to your broken car, “How is this funny?! That could have been you!”

“Ok”, you respond, now without much mirth, “Bob, I am fine. I wasn’t in the car when it fell!” He goes to say something else, but you stop him before he can. “And I wouldn’t be dumb enough to stay in my parked car in the middle of a storm.”

“No, but you did drive and run through one”, he mutters, almost afraid to hear your response. He looks back at the car through a grimace and you know his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. He’s worried, that’s all. “Just- don’t do that again”, he repeats his sentiment from before. You move back to take his hand and give him a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll try not to, I promise.”

Bob so graciously (doesn’t let you leave the truck) offers to inspect your car while you call your insurance company and a tow truck. There’s no missing calls or texts from your dad while you and Bob talk to the tow truck driver, and you frown as your baby is hauled away. No matter what happened in the past ten or so years, that car was always there for you. It housed you, kept you safe, and was a warm place to sleep when you needed it. And now? It was a landing pad for a palm tree.

Your Toyota is carried off into the distance, and you’re taken out of your memories by Bob’s hand over your lower back.

“You ok?”

“Yeah”, you huff, “We should get going.”

Bob finds your hand again in the cab of his truck, and you hold onto it tight. It brings you back to the present and keeps you grounded. Something you’re having a hard time doing when you see your dad dismounting his bike in the open garage.

“Shit”, you whisper. Your dad’s still taking off his helmet he wears once in a blue moon, and you take one last look at Bob. You want nothing more than to keep holding his hand, but at the sight of your dad you loosen your grip and both your hands fall back. “Just agree to everything I say, ok?”

He nods as his breathing picks up and you’re hit with a sudden thought: Can Bob even lie? Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

The two of you hop out of the truck as your dad turns at the sound.

“Hey!”, he greets you with a twist in his features, “What uh- what’s going on? Where’d you go?” He questions as he greets you with a hug. Bob stands a distance away at the end of the driveway and your dad gives him a questioning glance. “Hey Bob…” He waves back with a forced smile. You quickly drag his attention back to you and place your hands on his shoulders.

“So- don’t freak out. But earlier Bob called and said his dog got out and asked if I could keep an eye out for her. Seeing as I wasn’t doing anything and everything had died down, I drove over to help him look for her-” His brows raise and you’re left wondering what his reaction would have been if you were telling him the truth.

“We found her and everything’s fine. And I just want you to remember that I am completely fine…Great, even.” He lifts his brow asking you to continue, hoping it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to seem.

“My car died on the way over, and when we went back to jumpstart it…”, you pull your phone out and show him the pictures you took for the insurance company and he stops in his tracks. He almost scolds you as he releases your name in a breath. You give him a playful grimace as he looks over you in astonishment. Bob clears his throat from behind you as your dad continues to swipe through the pictures.

“Sir- I just want to say I did not ask her to come over, she did that of her own volition. But seeing as it’s my fault she was out in the first place, I am more than happy to give her rides to work while she doesn’t have a car. You know-”, he coughs again, “Since you usually have to stay later at work and…yeah”, he mutters in the end. Wow. Facing Bob, you give him the tiniest of smirks, impressed with his calmness. He tries to shake off his own smile while staring down at his shoes.

“I mean, that’s very nice of you, Bob”, your dad responds while rubbing a hand over his forehead. “But I think I should make her ride with me as punishment.”

“What?”, you whip your head around at your dad shaking his head. “Punishment? Might I remind you that I’m not some dumb teenager you can just ground whenever you want?”

“Yeah, well when you make decisions like a dumb teenager, that’s how you’re gonna get treated.” Your jaw drops at your dad’s stoic expression.

“Sir-”, Bob interrupts again, “I just- I feel responsible. She wouldn’t have been out there if it weren’t for me. Plus you are on my way to and from base. It’s no big deal, really.” Turning your head back to your father, you await his response. Wait, why are you even waiting for what he says? You’re a goddamn adult.

“Ok, I don’t need your permission. I pay my own bills and I refuse to be punished as a grown woman.” You turn back to Bob and decide to ignore your dad for the time being.

“I’ll see you Monday morning?”, you ask. Obviously not wanting to get in the middle of your argument he nods his head and you leave it at that. “Thanks again, Bob”.

“Anytime”, he responds and you see his lips twitch in the shadow of a smile. He shuts it down as he glances behind you to your dad, and you usher him inside as to let Bob leave in a quick getaway. Meaning, without an interrogation from your dad.

You huff as your dad closes the garage door behind you and you try to head to your room. Key word: try.

“Hey, I’m not done talking to you”, he barks to grab your attention. With a scoff you turn around at the bottom of the stairs. You’re reminded of how many times this has happened within the past few months. You were never yelled at or punished by him as a teenager, mostly because you did nothing to warrant that kind of action. But right now he’s making you feel like a child.

“What the hell were you thinking, huh?” You sigh as he places an exasperated hand on his hip.

“Couldn’t tell you if I’m being honest, but I am fine. I wasn’t even in my car when it happened.”

“Yeah, but you could have been.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t. Why is this such a big deal?”

“It’s not-”, he cuts off his raised voice and takes in a breath, returning with a much softer version, “It’s not just your car. It’s that if we didn’t live under the same roof I wouldn’t even know about this.”

“That’s not true”, you argue while he gives you a pointed look. “Ok”, you relent, “maybe I wouldn’t have told you, but that’s only because I’m fine! When there’s something to worry about I’ll let you know.”

“That’s the thing”, he points at you, “You don’t though. You don’t tell me until it gets to a breaking point. Or you don’t even tell me at all.” Ouch. He raises his eyebrows as if saying ‘the truth hurts’. With a sigh, you give in.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You of all people should know how hard it is to talk about your feelings, though.”

“I haven’t been very accessible in the past and I apologize for that. But we need to take advantage of the time we have now. I want you to come talk to me about anything. The good and the bad.”

“What, do you want like daily reports or something?”, you screw your brow up in confusion.

“No”, he laughs, “But I think we should have check-ins every once in a while. Every fortnight, how about that?”

“I think you’re the only person I know to use that word, but yeah. We can have fortnightly check-ins”, you smile.

“Fine, twice a month. Is that better?” He laughs with you, but you’re still reminded of the gravity of the conversation. You’ve been able to lie to your dad for the better part of- hell your whole life. But this thing with Bob is going to make things a little more complicated.

“In all seriousness I’m sorry for scaring you.” “I’m just glad you’re ok”, he crosses over and wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“I really am”, you sigh. “Bob made sure I was.”

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mrsshabana · 3 days ago

Text

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮 :･ﾟ✧

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

Happy Birthday @matsukaah !! I know you really like my mantis au Gyutaro so I decided to write this for your birthday. I know it's small but I hope you like it and I hope you have an amazing birthday!! ♡

(This is from an au I made a long time ago where Gyutaro is a mantis hybrid, like a cryptid type creature)

The mantis boy was smart, but you never expected him to understand the concept of a birthday.

He was so feral and untouched by society that it just seemed like something he wouldn't grasp. But no, you were wrong.

Someone must have taught him about it, maybe his sister? Or perhaps he put two and two together when he saw the festivities taking place in your home.

He was kept a secret, of course, so he just watched from outside. His spectacular eyesight came in handy as he sat in a tree, watching you from the open windows in your home. Saw how people came inside, gave you gifts, sang a song around a birthday cake before digging in. He didn't quite understand why but he knew it must have been some special occasion revolving around you.

So that night, just as you were about to go outside, you heard heavy knocks at your back door.

When you open it, you're surprised to see the 7-foot tall mantis standing there with an assortment of items in his hands.

"Oh! Hello Gyutaro, I was just about to come out to see you," you smile sweetly, happy to see him as you always are.

He pushes past you, coming into your home even though you were prepared to go out.

"Erm, we can go outside-" he cuts you off with a hiss. He's never been inside your home before, but he doesn't seem to dislike it.

Even though there are plenty of chairs around, he sits on the floor. Not giving you an option, he grabs your wrist and pulls you to the floor too.

Stumbling over yourself as he pulls you down, you land in his lap. Eliciting a happy chirp from him, his mandibles twitching curiously as he sniffs your hair. You smell different today.

"Gyu, ngh-" you groan as you struggle to get out of his grasp. He holds you on his lap like he doesn't want you to leave, but eventually he lets go.

The expression on his face is shy and timid, totally different than his usual attitude, as he hands you the assortment of items he brought with him.

"What's this?" you ask.

"F-For you... gift," he mumbles.

You gladly accept the items. A bundle of wildflowers, a few shiny stones, and some fresh fruit he must've picked from the forest.

It's a simple gift, sure. But the fact that he, a wild animal, went out of his way to do something so thoughtful means the world to you. Not only that, but in a way he was trying to understand you better. You and your human ways, which seem so foreign to him. A deadly creature that was raised in the wilderness. Some would say, a monster.

"Thank you, Gyutaro," you say with tears in your eyes, "This... this means so much to me.

He smiles, a crooked grin that rarely appeared on his face before he met you. "Happy? Good, yes?" He strings together a sentence with the few words that he knows.

"Yes, I'm very happy!" You lunge towards him and hug him tight. Trying to hold back your tears.

He doesn't understand at first, but he likes it when you're close to him like this, so it's not long before he embraces you as well.

"Me happy, you happy," he chirps, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Even though they were simple, these gifts from Gyutaro made your day. They mean more to you than all of the gifts you received today combined.

Your sweet monster boy made an effort to celebrate this human thing that he has no concept of. And he did it all for you on your special day. But how could he not? You are his favorite human after all.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyuutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #mantis au

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wrencatte · 28 days ago

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febwhump day 2: holding back tears except less whump and more angst. feels like these febwhump things are going to be me smashing out quick ideas that might be expanded on later, might not Fallen Order-Era. Cere POV. Time-travel

A figure stands at the end of the Mantis’s ramp, not even a toe of the edge. He radiates such strong wistfulness, and no small amount of grief, Cere can feel it to the marrow of her bones even without the Force. Still, she keeps her blaster in hand, tucked out of sight, and stares down the stranger, eyebrow raised.

He’s dressed in a garish blue and yellow poncho, hood pulled low over his head against the torrent of rain but makes no other effort to shield himself. She can’t see much of his face other than a glint of eyes on her and a crooked sort of smile. He looks at her with a familiarity she shouldn’t understand – yet she does. The Force stirs in the back of her mind, perking up like a bogling out of its burrow, whispering trust-trust-trust so loudly she wants to cover her ears. It’s bright and shining, like the sun on a cloudless day, and it’s so different than the shadowy darkness that’s been haunting her since Nur she’s….she’s pretty tempted to listen, just this once.

“Can I help you?” she asks curtly.

The figure shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’m looking for charter. I’ve got credits.” His voice is low and oddly thick, but Cere can’t say if that’s his natural tone or something else.

No is on the tip of her tongue. Yes, they’ve taken passengers before when their collective funds were too low – they tried not to rely too heavily on Cere’s stash – but usually they’re advertising, not simply accepting every random person’s offer of credits on a whim. But when Cere goes to dismiss him, something stops her. The Force. Her instincts. The way he continues to stand just off the ramp, radiating grief and longing in a way Cere is intimately familiar with.

“Where are you going?”

“The Outer Rim, I think,” he says.

“You think?”

“A gut feeling.” He tilts his head, his smile growing cheeky, and Cere blinks, taken aback by how young he looks. “Something tells me I need to be there.”

Bogano is in the Outer Rim. Cere dares not to hope that maybe this gut feeling speaks of something deeper. She sighs and gestures for him to come up the ramp. “Get inside. Can’t have you drowning while we hash out the details.”

His whole expression brightens as he scampers up. “Thank you!”

“Slow down. We haven’t agreed to anything just yet.” She doesn’t bother hiding her blaster now, making sure he can see it. The moment he tries to pull something she’ll shoot him dead, kid or not. “Captain! We’ve got company!”

Greez sticks his head out the cockpit, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “We running a babysitting service now? What are you, ten?”

“Seventeen,” the stranger quips as he pulls down his hood to reveal a shock of copper red hair. He’s smiling so hard it has to hurt, his gaze flickering from Cere to Greez then back again. His eyes shine with what look like unshed tears, but that could just be remnants of rainwater. “I’m seventeen.”

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of Naboo.” Greez warily comes out of the cockpit, one set of hands on his hips. “Whatcha want, longbean?”

The kid laughs. It sounds brittle. “Like I told her,” he gestures to Cere. “Just looking to get to the Outer Rim. I’ve got the credits. I can lend a hand too, with maintenance. I’m pretty handy with it comes to ships. I can cook and pilot – I had a really good teacher.” His eyes linger on Greez before tearing away to focus on Cere again. He swallows thickly, voice a little less steady. “I can haggle and fight. I won’t be a dead weight.”

Cere holds up a hand before he can keep going, her stomach twisting and her heart aching. The kid is running from something, she’s pretty sure, but even that doesn’t seem quite right. “Credits will be enough,” she tells him. Then, against her better judgement, she adds, “I’ve got a good feeling about you.”

He beams and rasps out, “Yeah. Me too.” He sticks out a hand, the poncho sliding across his arm to show the edge of a dark tattoo. “I’m Cal.”

“Nice to meet you, Cal.” She takes it, holding firm. The Force dances happily around their clasped hands and she can’t turn away. “I’m Cere. This is Greez. Welcome aboard the Mantis.”

#my writing #cal kestis #cere junda #jedi fallen order #febwhumpday2 #febuwhump

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fr3akingtf0utrn · 2 years ago

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hi can u do peter quill x gn reader where the crew walks in on them two either like making out or something (if ur comfy with that if not feel free to ignore!!)

YES. I’ve seen a lot of these and sorry this took long❤️

Also I do tend to lean on more dom reader side so yuh

Peter Quill x GN! Reader

Warnings : suggestive actions, making out grinding etc.

————————————————————————

“fuck,” you had pushed Peter down onto his bed, he laid sprawled out with no shirt and just pants on. Extremely tight pants. You griped your own shirt and lifted it over your head, throwing it somewhere in his room.

You crawled atop of him and glided your chests together. The aching contact of skin on skin for weeks had finally come.

Peter whimpers in your ear as trail your bites and nics down from his ear to his neck. You grip onto the back of his thigh while grinding hard into him.

Peter throws his head back, which gives you more access to marking him. You lick up his neck smirking to yourself. Peter moved his hand to the crook of your neck, pulling you away from his abused and bruised neck, making you look into his eyes.

He smiles and pulls you in to a kiss. Your bodies collided along with your lips. The heat growing more and more in Quills room.

It had been an agonizing week of nonstop working around knowhere. You guys had barely gotten alone time and this was finally your alone time. You both had done everything needed (hopefully) for everyone settling in, and could blow off that stress. (Almost quite literally)

Your guys’ body ached for each other. Not having been touched in the slightest had made you feel so sensitive to it.

Yearning for the pleasure you both ached for, Peter grounded harder into you causing you both to moan, feeling the heat of each others breaths. You grabbed onto his hips allowing him to rock against your thigh slowly. His legs almost wrapping around your waist.

Peter had one grip on your locks, and one on your bicep. You looked down with hooded eyes as his face contorted into pleasure, craning his neck back, mouth agape.

Leaning back down, you went to his ear nipping and biting and soon going to his sweet spot under his ear. Peter moaned louder, the feeling of you marking him and pelvis to pelvis had never felt better.

Whispering sweet praises, you release the side of his hip and grab onto his neck, putting slight pressure making him whimper. You’re thumb move to under this chin and make him crane his neck even more.

“Such a pretty boy,” you mutter into his neck and his back arches. You trail the hand down his chest, grazing his soft but hairy chest. The pads of your fingertips graze his harden nipple and you play with it as you bring him into another kiss.

Catching him off guard while playing with his sensitive nipple, your tongue slips through, passionately adding to the kiss.

Slowly but surely, almost hovering, feather light scratching, your nails run down his abdomen.

“Such a good boy,” you say as you look into his clouded eyes.

Unbuckling his belt, you slip your fingers right under the waist band. Trailing your pads and feeling his well trimmed happy trial, you continue to tease.

Reaching down farther you graze his tip and-

*SLAM BANG*

“QUILL, MANTIS KEEPS USING HER-”

You both stare wide eyed. It was a sight to be seen. Your hand halfway down peters pants, both of your guys shirts off, etc.

“Uhm,” you went to say something to drax but struggled.

Drax stood there and did nothing. To confused and traumatized. Honestly, thank god it was only Drax and not anyone-

“PETER. Do not listen to Drax he’s just-”

Mantis came barging in and had pushed Drax out of the way before looking up and freezing. Her jaw dropped and her already big eyes grew wider.

Before anything else happened, Nebula pushed both of them and screamed. “Will you both shut the-” Frozen as well.

Everyone was quiet. Unsure what the hell to do.

Peter suddenly irked, “well get out! What is with you people and just standing there?!”

They all scattered and Nebula was now pushing both of them out the door, including forgetting to close it.

“Close the fucking door!”

#peter quill x male reader #peter quill x reader #peter quill #the guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy #marvel #peter quill x gn reader #star lord #starlord x reader #starlord x you #peter quill x you

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lottespics · 2 years ago

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Why Me? - Part 1

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, insecurities, pining (if I do end up writing more I will put more chapter warnings)

Word Count: 700

Summary: Bob is a total simp, and he is too caught up in his own insecurities to ever think about the possibility you may very well like him back.

A/N: Ok, so this is my first attempt at writing in a VERY long time, so pls be gentle to me, thank you. But if anyone comes upon this I hope you enjoy it! I'm hoping to write more and have it become a series but we'll see what happens. Also I suck at summaries so sorryyy.

For the twenty-nine years Bob had been alive he had never felt this way before. It took a single stare. A look. A glance really, to know that he had been blessed in this life. You’d think he was admiring a masterpiece carefully handcrafted by a tortured artist who had dedicated his life to his craft, or perhaps the sunset over the cliffs of La Jolla that reflected off of the water just right. But no. Because nothing in this moment could compare to the sight before him. It was simply you, holding a hand to your chest, throwing your head back in a laugh over some wild story Phoenix was telling you about her family back home.

Everything slowed down around him as the light from the bar cast a halo around your head. The way your cheeks flushed from the rowdy atmosphere of the Hard Deck. The way your soft hand slid from your chest to Phoenix’s shoulder in an attempt to catch your breath. He knew he was staring at this point, but he just couldn’t tear his eyes from you. Even gazing at you in awe from behind the pool table he found himself blushing at the thought of you and your inviting smile.

Just as you take a sip from your glass, your eyes scan the bar and land on his, already staring right at you. Your eyes widen at first at how intently his eyes bore into yours, until they soften and a crooked smile makes its way to his lips. You smile right back at him and raise your hand in a small wave. Bob’s heart beats faster as you continue to smile at him, he picks up his hand and gives a wave back. Your smile widens as you stare back into your drink.

Even in your khakis Bob thinks there is no way you could get more beautiful. He should go over and talk to you. But he thinks better of it as you’re still in your conversation with Phoenix. That is until Phoenix gets up and heads to the restroom. Oh god. This is his chance. He should take it right? No, he’ll just end up making a stuttering mess of himself like the last time he tried to have a one-on-one conversation with you. The team still held that over his head, as they only thought he was nervous to say something wrong and have you go running to tell your dad what a dumb-ass he was.

Your father of course being their Captain, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. That was its own obstacle. Other than the fact that the thought of you had him stumbling over his own words, your father was one reason why he was hesitant to approach you. You had mentioned to Phoenix before that because of this every aviator either kept their distance from you, or had made a game of trying to hook up with you. This detachment had been different this time. Everyone has been friendly to you for no other reason than to be friendly. Of course, Hangman tried his hand at you, but that was before he realized who your father was. Bob remembers it quite well. The way Hangman sidled up to you to introduce himself. Giving you his best lines, eventually asking how you got the call sign of “Mantis” only for you to stare at him and casually say, “‘Cause I’ll bite your fucking head off if you try anything”. You gave him your best smile and walked off after Hangman promptly choked on his drink.

Lost in his daydream, Bob barely notices Phoenix coming back and reclaiming her seat next to you. Another opportunity slips out of his hands. He looks back to his empty cup of peanuts and decides to call it a night, heading out without saying goodbye to anyone, not like they would notice anyway. Besides, if you ever were to take a chance on anyone in the squad why would it be him? He makes it to the front of the bar before you look up smiling, hoping to see him again, he was too far gone to see it slip from your face. You let out a dejected sigh before asking Penny to close out your tab.

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #mavdad #top gun fandom

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 years ago

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hey bbg 😽

so i was reading a fic for an entirely different character but i think itd be absolutely adorable for my husb- i mean OUR husband Quill

Maybe reader is like stressed (over smthn i have no idea) and the guardians tried to cheer em up but nothing worked so they brought the big guns: peter. jason. quill.

and he tries to cheer reader up with lil jokes and just the stuff he knows makes reader smile hshsjshjss all the fluff bbg 🛐

hope you can get to this soon! have a great week/end 🫶

-🪐

hii bbg!! angelface, I love it, I love it all. and im glad you corrected yourself, ‘our’, yeah you’re right😏 jk jk, when I talk to you, he’s yours, but here he’s ours🤭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

surprise visitor

Peter Quill x f!reader

— word count: 559

— warnings: none, just fluff

₊✧ masterlist + taglist

Whenever you felt stressed, it often accompanied other emotions you were unsure of. You found it difficult to cope and manage the stress, and ultimately it would lead to you shutting down. You didn't like others to know how you felt, so you preferred to keep up the facade and pretend. Lately, you've been feeling more stressed than usual, and it was starting to get you down. It made you feel silly for getting so worked up over nothing.

The other guardians could tell something was bothering you, more specifically, Nebula. She was often highly observant of everyone around her and would notice the slightest change in others. So she pulled Mantis aside to plan ways to help and comfort you.

Although the gesture was sweet and heartwarming, it wasn't what you needed. It wasn't what you wanted. What you wanted was Quill, but he wasn't here. He was away on a planet restoration mission with Rocket and Groot, so there was no way of seeing him right now, or so you thought. Once Mantis touched your arm, she could feel what you felt, understand you- even though you couldn't identify it yourself. She could feel how much you missed Peter, so she wanted to give you the one thing that would help, the only person that could soothe and calm you, Quill.

"I heard someone's missin' me," Pete bellows, a playful expression on his face as he enters the ship. "Someone's missin' me real bad," he smirks, pacing towards you.

"Hi," you earnestly smile, instantly wrapping him up in a tight hug.

"Hi, honey," he says quietly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he strokes your back with his easing palms.

"I missed you," you muffled into the crook of his neck.

"I missed you," he softly sighs, pulling away to look at you. "Mant told me," he sadly smiles, looking into your eyes. "Not feelin' too good, huh?"

You slowly shake your head, avoiding his soft green gaze.

"I'm sorry, hon," he frowns, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. "That's okay. You don't have to be okay all the time— well, it's not okay, but not not okay— you know what I mean," he chuckles, clearing his flustered haze. "You get what I'm tryna say," he grins, wrapping his big warm arms around you.

"I know," you softly laugh into his chest, hugging him tighter as if you were afraid he'll slip through your fingers.

"You know I'm not going anywhere— you're gonna end up popping my lungs," Peter chuckles, brushing slow, comforting strokes over your back.

"Sorry," you giggle, muffling against him before you pull away. It was the first time you really laughed since he left, and it all felt right. Felt like how it was supposed to. "When do you go back?" you ask, questioning the inevitable.

"I'm not— well, until you're feelin' better," he says, kissing your cheek. "Drax is taking my place," he adds, noticing your puzzled expression.

"What if I never feel better?" you smile, speaking playfully.

"Then I guess I'll have to stay forever," he grins, slipping his hand into yours, leading you to the back of the ship.

"Where we going?" you ask, catching up with his long strides.

"Secret," he looks over his shoulder, a boyish grin lining his lips. "No, no, just kiddin'. Goin' up top to look at the stars and cuddle."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

quill taglist: @annielr @spacetalbot @bubblezuku@idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @queerponcho @selfryed @traiitorjoe

#🪐#i want a hug from quill so bad omg #peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill x fem!reader #peter quill imagine #peter quill fluff #peter quill fanfic #peter quill comfort #peter quill x female reader #starlord x you #star lord #starlord x reader #gotg

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systembug · 5 months ago

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After getting some advice from a kind moot and doing some reading on mantis preservation I decided to spread mine:)

It looks much better after I fiddled with it so I can show it without hiding under the cut:3

She now looks like a respectable specimen, even if a bit crooked<3

Thank you @shrivveledradish for telling me about preventing discoloration, my silly ass was drying in on the balcony. Now that I brought it inside it stopped changing colour completely!

#bug #bugs #bugblr #bugposting #praying mantis #mantis #bug pinning #insect pinning

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br4ndts · 21 days ago

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sc.⠀⠀//⠀⠀@kobikd

being apart of both the guardians and the avengers was a difficult task at times, having to juggle space and earth wasn't ideal but she enjoyed it none the less. as many beings as she could save, the better. the back and forth meant that she never really had the time for breaks, they were a rarity.

however, she was on vacation from guardian-ing and there were no missions for her right now on earth either. so a return from the cosmos wasn't needed and neither was her staying in space… what did she do? she came back down to earth anyways. now she was at the avengers compound, a bit exhausted from the journey but still buzzing with excitement.

she loved earth a lot, it was more of a home than space — even if her home would always be with the guardians. this was more stable, cushy. she could spend endless days here and get lost in the nature of it all.

her excitement however, is shortlived; apprehension, confusion and curiosity taking over at the sight of someone she hasn't seen before. granted, it's been a while since she came down.

“o-oh..? hello. i am mantis…” she greets upon her entrance to the common room, a small wave and crooked smile. “you are..?” she was familiar with children being apart of the team at times but this one just seemed.. younger than usual.

#closed.#arc 002.#kobikd #hiii i did this w younger anya i hope u dont mind!!

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fanficsandfluff · 2 years ago

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Guardians of the Galaxy: Nice

Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy

Character(s): Rocket, Peter Quill/Star Lord, Mantis, Drax, Nebula, Groot

A/N: I'M BACK. BACK IN THE NEW YORK GROOVE~~

No but seriously how the fuck is everyone!?!?

I am revisiting my Guardians phase and I couldn't be more happy to be here.

I will say very MINOR spoilers for Vol. 3, and this is supposed to take place after all those events transpired.

This was what I came up with from this anon's ask and I greatly appreciate you sending this in. Not so much tickling in this one, and it's definitely fluffy and sweet, so I still hope you enjoy!

It's been tumultuous. It's been frustrating. It's been hell at times, too.

But then Drax would sit next to him on the grated metal floor of the ship as he tinkered with something new, something helpful. It wouldn't take much. Just having Drax sitting with his too-big legs trying to criss-cross themselves, crunching on a zargnut or some other snack... hell, it should've annoyed the piss outta him. The stupid chewing noises, hearing his breath when he leaned in to get as close as possible with his face so his Kylosian eyes could see the intricacies of whatever was in Rocket's little pawed hands. It didn't annoy him, actually. No. The dummy was actually helping him immensely with his presence. And they wouldn't even need to talk. As long as Drax was near, sometimes scooting close enough that his knee rested in the crook of Rocket's side. That was nice...

Then the hell feelings would surface again, grumbles under his breath as the thoughts bubbled up.

And it would be Groot coming closer after keeping watch on Rocket for a short while, knowing just the time when he needed to step in. And usually when he waited long enough, Groot was itching to be playful. He was a whole lot bigger now. Bigger than he was before the Ronan incident. So his attempts at going for the chase were met with a gruff chuckle and grin from the raccoon almost instantly. Groot's big dumb tree trunks stomping around... it was humorous. And of course Rocket would try and hold out, or else what fun was there in the game? He'd slooowly walk in a circle with his friend, then scamper around when Groot happily hopped up and down from the excitement of the playing. Groot would extend his fingers, morphing them into thin, pliable branches and scratch and poke at Rocket when he could catch him. Eventually, though he'd never admit it if asked, Rocket would "let" himself get caught and Groot would scoop him up into his arms and it just felt nice.

Rocket would be stopped in his tracks, too, when he felt his heart tittering. Like it was fluttering a bit too extra at times, making his breathing difficult. This was a new development after being medpack'd back to life. Not life threatening, they debunked that theory early on. It was just a nuisance. But the limited ability to intake oxygen would sometimes send Rocket whirling again, back in time, back to the terrors...

And a boisterous laugh from down the hall and to the right, to Quill's personal area (though it's become less personal over the time his new family spent there and infiltrated the space. Rocket preferred it like it was now...). There Rocket would catch a glimpse of Peter and Mantis, sitting together, Mantis laughing at something. It was hard to tell with her. Most things that amused her amused Drax, so one could guess it'd be a stupid ass cause. Rocket's ears and nose would twitch, even his lips where a small smile was playing. Even though he thought he was out of sight, eavesdropping on the sibling to sibling moment, Peter would catch him standing there and beckon him over. And Rocket would go and sit between the two, heart murmur forgotten. Just smiles. And yeah yeah, shut your face, Rocket did sit between them on purpose, so he'd have comfort on either side. Moments like these were nice, too, man...

"Rocket."

With a few extra blinks, the raccoon was back in the present. Reminiscing became a very real hobby as of late, after the rescue, after the reunification. He'd go to these places easily, slipping away without any thought for what was happening around him here and now. But that was Pete saying his name, he knew that much.

"Wha?"

"You wanted a shot, too?"

Rocket looked down his snout at the array of rainbow liquids before him. He glanced over at Nebula, arms crossed. She looked sober. He gestured his head towards the spread, "You have any?"

"I was waiting for you."

Rocket smirked, "Fire me up one, barkeep," he slammed his little hand on the control table, their meetup/planning place that was now used to house the libations for their little party.

"Don't know if that's correct lingo, but let's go with it," Peter teased but poured shots for Nebula and Rocket.

And together, the group drank and the night began.

This was gonna be fun drunk. Not sad drunk. Lord knows Rocket couldn't stand sad drunk anymore, especially after watching Peter deteriorate after Gamora 1.

Come to find out, fun drunk brought out a very different side of Rocket.

The first sign most noticeable to everyone was the giggles. They were all highly familiar with Rocket's many fake laughs, loud laughs, derisive laughs... the whole gambit. If they were chatting and joking, Rocket would lose himself in a stream of giggles, higher and more innocent than anything the family was used to. But it was contagious, considering the rest of them were also quite tipsy.

While the whole troupe picked up on that, Nebula was the first one to notice all the touching. Not being one for affection, the only touching she'd bestow or want to have would consist of pushing or punching. But Rocket was sidling up to everyone at any chance he had.

When he was sitting on a bench next to Peter as they were listening to Drax try to tell some outlandish, very-serious-not-funny-at-all story, Rocket would be nearly passing out from wheezing at trying to hold back all the laughs he had bubbling up from Drax's horrible speech, and he'd be nuzzling and pressing his head all into Peter's arm and side. The Terran would be in the same state, rosy-cheeked and littered with repressed snorts and giggles. The two of them together were not a good mix for trying to keep straight faces. Finally, Drax picked up on the boys' restraint and Peter lost it, sliding down in his seat, nearly falling completely off the bench. And Rocket was practically laying in Peter's lap, now also in hysterics.

Nebula was pouring herself another drink and Rocket stumbled up to her, pressing his hand against her knee, "Hey."

"What?"

"Hey--pfft," Rocket was snickering again.

Nebula rolled her eyes but paused her drink selection to look down at Rocket, who was now feeling the fabric of her pant leg with both paws. See? Again, the touching.

"Rocket, if this is something idiotic--"

"I'snot! No no no, it's not. Promise," even through slurred words, Nebula had to admit she was intrigued.

"Then what? Did you want a drink?"

"Nnno-- well wait yeah, actually, if you wouldn't mind-- But no! So! They were askin'--" he lifted one of his hands off her leg to gesture in the vague direction of the rest of the group, huddled up together with all their eyes on Nebula and Rocket, waiting for the ball to drop. Idiots.

"Are you--? Do ya think you're ticklish?" Rocket asked finally, another one of those light giggles slipping out.

Nebula glanced over at the group with one of her death stares, and they all tried to feign innocence.

"Do I look like I'm ticklish?"

Rocket now lifted both hands off her and used them to shrug, "I dunno, I was just askin'..."

"You can tell them no. And not to try or I'll strap them with Nova Core-strength batteries and feed them to Mantis's Abilisks."

Rocket scoffed, starting to walk away slowly, "Geeheez, alright... No need to be so 'Nebula' 'bout it. I don't mind it, so I guess I just don't get why you're bein' so defensivitious..."

And there he was making new words up again. But Nebula didn't let go of the one very important tidbit slurred in the middle of the nonsense ramble. He didn't mind it.

More of the night passed and they were nearing the sloppy, lovey dovey drunk phase of the night.

"I love you guys," Mantis was the one with the turn to spew her love speech. They found out Mantis had a hard time getting drunk, so throughout the night Drax and Peter would let her touch them so she could feel a little of what they were feeling, "Like... I'm just a worm..." uh oh, "A little teeny--bitsy worm and you all made me bloom."

"You're nohohot a worm, Mant," Rocket chuckled, laying down with his head in Drax's lap and his feet propped up on Nebula's.

"I thought you were a larvae," Drax pointed out.

"Was," Mantis corrected, her antennae drooping with the brief recollection of Ego, "But now I'm a butterfly!" she even waved her arms in the air to prove her point.

"Wouldn't you just be... a mantis? A praying mantis?" Peter now inquired, scrunching his face like this took a whole lot of energy.

"A what?" Mantis asked.

"Forget it.." Peter didn't want Mantis to have an existential crisis over whether or not she was a butterfly. So for tonight, yes, she was a beautiful butterfly.

"I love you losers, too," Rocket took his turn, his eyes closed and his words honestly barely audible since it looked like he was getting drunker and sleepier by the second, "I love you for all you do for me. For this."

By 'this,' everyone assumed the party.

Rocket rolled over on his side and his tail flicked, "For... you know... whenever you... like you pet me. Or just take care of me..."

The room was quiet, save for Peter's music playing on low volume through the ship's speakers. All eyes were on Rocket.

"I thought you hated being pet," Pete pointed out, a moment of sobriety coming through.

Rocket blinked his eyes back open as if he was again being brought back to the present. What did he say? He liked being pet?

"Well yeah..." the raccoon sat up now, removing his body parts from Drax and Nebula, like he was now becoming aware that he was laying on them at all.

"But that's not what you said just now," Mantis said.

"No. No, I-I--"

"I've pet you before. When you were sad," Drax said next, "It was natural to do, since you are built for petting."

"Okay--"

"I am Groot."

"What!?" everyone in the room exclaimed in unison.

If Rocket was human, he'd be beet red by now. He tried running away from the situation, literally. But Nebula grabbed his arm, not in a rude or demeaning way. Her touch was gentle. Shit, just what he needed right now, more gentle touch...

"You like when we're... affectionate," it was even hard for her to get the word out.

"Everyone likes hugs and nuzzles--" Mantis threw in, ready to list a whole bunch of things when Nebula cut her off.

"... and tickles," she was sporting another oddity: a kind smile.

"Groot..." Rocket growled, eyeing his friend for outing him like that. He wanted to crawl into the evac chamber and be shot into space.

"He didn't have to say it," Nebula pointed out to save Groot some heartache, "You told me earlier."

"I think I'm gonna go to bed now," Rocket tried to get his arm free, "And for the record, I'm drunk. I never heard any of this."

"Rocket," Peter began, "You know that if we knew you liked all that stuff, we'd do it more."

"Please stop talking.."

"Don't be embarrassed," Mantis pouted.

"I think there could be far worse things to be embarrassed about," Drax added, "Even though I don't quite know what that means."

"We love you for who you are," Peter even stood up from his seat and walked closer to where Rocket was still being held by Nebula's hand, "So stop thinking you're inconveniencing us or-or that you don't care..."

"It's a privilege to make you happy, Rocket," Nebula said, her voice soft.

Rocket stood still, with Pete now kneeling to be more at eye-level with him and Nebula holding his wrist. His brown eyes glanced around at his friends-- scratch that, his family. What a stupid way to have this conversation. A bunch of drunk idiots confessing their love.

"I 'ppreciate it, fellas..." Rocket spoke. He nodded his head, making sure to have eye contact with everyone there to know he loved them back, even though this turned very awkward.

When Rocket felt Nebula let go of him and he figured he was finally allowed to leave, Peter surprised him by grabbing him in a hug and holding him close. Rocket sighed and patted Pete's shoulder, not so much reciprocating the hug because he just felt weird about it all now. But it was nice-- oh fuck, here we go...

Drax carefully pet the top of his head between his ears, and they twitched and sank to give away their enjoyment of the act. Nebula extended her metal arm and scratched under Rocket's chin, grinning. Rocket huffed and moved his head, but damn that also felt good... and Pete still didn't let go of him... So Mantis came over and practically threw herself on top of him and Peter so she could join in the hug. Rocket heard Pete chuckle and felt the rumble in his chest since he was that close to his friend.

Lastly Groot joined in, wrapping his growing branches and limbs around the whole group sitting there in a huddle.

"Bunch of idiots..." Rocket said with heavy sentiment. He succumbed to the hugs and pets and scritches because dammit he really frickin' liked it all.

Rocket felt some prodding into his sides and he snickered into Pete's shoulder, "Groohoot..." he warned, knowing the familiar feeling too well.

"What'd he do?" Peter asked.

Again, Rocket felt the prods and new light scratches. His small body shook with unlaughed laughs. He recognized the tone in Pete's voice and knew it wasn't Groot poking at him. So he had to defend himself. Rocket's claws dug into the expanse of flesh that was Peter's ribs and the whole hug pile disintegrated as Peter screamed and cackled and writhed his way out of there.

"I am Groot!"

"Damn right I can dish it out, too!" Rocket grinned.

What soon tumbled into a massive tickle fight ended with Rocket in near tears of mirth, all his family and friends gently messing with little parts of him.

This was a new one to go into that memory bank of his.

A real, genuine nice moment.

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valentine-cafe · 3 months ago

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May I have a strawberry shortcake maybe with a tirimasu and mango pudding please?

[Afab reader]

Just thinking about riding Rishen's motorcycle with her for the first time!!:( Going to meet up with Talisen and Alessio to watch the stars together!!:(( You've always wanted to ride on her motorcycle, but you were always nervous!!! But this is Rishen, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you were safe!! So now you're on the back of Rishen's bike, clinging tightly onto them!! Taking a detour before meeting up with Alessio and Talisen! And the winding against your skin has your cunny twitching, tightens your arms around his waist, you grind your cunny against his ass. You'll feel his back shake with a light laugh, and she starts to make another detour, taking you to a secluded area. And before you know it, your helmets are thrown to the side, your back is pressed against the seat with your legs on the crook of his arms and his hips jack hammering into yours. And he'll be moaning into your mouth like a whore trying desperately to keep his whimpers low. Not before texting Talisen and Alessio that it might be a while before you arrive at the set location followed by videos of you both a bit after!!

You'll both arrive late but at least you'll have cum dripping down your legs!!:D There's no physical evidence on the outside that your throat got fucked by Rishen's cock except for one of the videos sent Alessio's and Talisen's way and your sore throat!!:D

-🍄

˖⁺. ﹙ nerdy hybrid hero x literature hero reaper x afab reader x punkgoth bf. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . i wanna ride !! 🍒 : rishen: hero ˖ moth-spider-mantis hybrid ˖ preppy nerd character ˖ talisen: poet ˖ grim reaper ˖ naga character ˖ alessio: punkgoth ˖ mercenary ˖ immortal character ﹙ verse 781 rishen, talisen & alessio. ﹚

getting anxious to ride on rishen's moterbike for the first time, she helps you ride something else to take away the tension | cw : plugging ˖ cum eating ˖ public sex ( you never get seen ) ˖ smut

he would be fucking you so hard, in all of the positions she could possibly find for you on her bike!

other times you’d find yourself ass up on the steer, face shoved into the seat while she eats you out. drinking up any of the juices and cum that squirt out of you, regardless if they’re mixed with his or not. fingers tracing your clit in rough, circling motions.

“look at the camera huh? let them see how pretty you look cariño.” they’d chuckle, stuffing your mouth and throat full of her cock. while recording his vigerous mouth fucking, along with your pretty eyes squinting with tears of pleasure and euphoric deliriousness.

at one point you’d be the one to bend her over the bike slightly. riding her girldick with her phone in your hand, pointing straight down to your crotches. puffy pussy taking him so well.

after a while of tending to your tensed state. she’d grab you and put your shaky form back behind her on the bike. making her way to your prime destination. letting you grind down against the seating of the back, while whining for her through your helmet.

the feel of their cum plugged in your pussy, and trickling down your legs. cause shivers to rush up your spine.

“we’re here.” rishen would cheerily call for your two other boyfriends, who look up from alessio’s phone. having just watched the videos sent. mouthes agape and eyes wide.

“took your time.” the mercenary would joke, composing himself once more and casting a small smirk your way.

“hmm? we just took a little detour~” they’d respond, grinning deviously. a hand sneaking around your waist to drag you with it.

you’d earn chuckles from all three of the boyfriends whenever you’d speak. voice hoarse and raspy.

oh the both of you were going to be in trouble when you arrived home.

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schismusic · 3 months ago

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In the shadow of the horns: meditations on Team ICO's works – 2. ICO

[Disclaimer: as always, spoilers for ICO are to be expected, and so are spoilers for Shadow of the Colossus since we've already discussed that one. Reader's discretion is advised.]

This one I wrote in a massive rush, because I only realized that I hadn't written anything about ICO yet right about when the time came to actually post this piece on here. I wanted this to be out before Christmas, see, not for any specific reason – I just wanted to make sure I was writing stuff that makes sense, more or less. I'm still taken aback by how much time it's taken, considering my Shadow of the Colossus piece was written more or less entirely between Colossus 2 and Colossus 6. As such, that particular piece contains a glaring mistake, that Tumblr user @crooked-mantis thankfully pointed out. Mantis's intervention is as follows:

While I did know the voice when Wander is transported back to the Shrine was supposed to be Mono's, I did not remember her calling Wander by name, specifically – and after reaching Colossus 9 and Colossus 14, I was pleasantly surprised to hear exactly what Mantis mentioned. So, again, thank you for pointing this out, and I'm glad you still enjoyed this piece that I titled after a song by Darkthrone just so I could make a stupid joke.

The beauty of Ico lies in the fact it seems to disregard the conventions of an average videogame, if you're not looking too hard. The first thing I did after completing ICO again was to put on some Kraftwerk – Computer Love, to be exact – because that same exact comment could be made with regards to their post-Autobahn production almost as a whole. Trans Europe Express and Radio-Activity, at least to an extent, tinker with that divide between their profoundly poppish writing style and that weird, destructured, post-1968 thing where even a pop song's structure can be broken down into something more than just function and role. All the same, ICO (Kraftwerk's music) is tightly designed, with recognizable hooks and welcoming moments that allow the player (listener) to immediately understand what they have to do. Here's a bubbly cursed boy. Here's a girl who's spent her whole life in a cage. They're trapped in a castle and evil shadows want to kidnap the girl. Have you done the math yet?

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Right before I went back to the game myself, I happened to catch a friend of mine – @alexswordsman – as they streamed part of their first playthrough on Discord. I was struck by the realization that I had absolutely no recollection of a lot of moments from the game; but what truly surprised me is just how much of the game I did keep in my memory, and not just story bits (that would be easy, considering the campaign's length) but also entire rooms' worth of environmental puzzles, fights against the shadow children, the genuine sense of dread when leaving Yorda alone or when hanging from some iron pole, a good hundred meters above any solid ground. As I spent some time thinking about this, and a good couple of weeks after actually going through the game again in something like two and a half sittings, I realized that it really did take me a loooooong time to realize just for how long ICO was a game about the story, for me. The answer was of course quite a fucking lot – a whole year after my first playthrough or something, specifically. I remember telling some girl in my class about it, back in 2019, because I was an insufferable bastard who felt really alone but could not relate to other human beings on any fundamental level. Poor girl, I think she actually did feel some modicum of attraction towards me, but unfortunately I was very much not prepared to return it. The point being: for the longest time, apart from when I replayed it back in 2020, I genuinely thought of ICO as a story to be told, something to be read off of a Wikipedia page a billion years ago. As the previous piece (and, if you've read them, my other pieces about Team Ico, the Italian ones) might have clarified, of course, coming back to the games with a slightly more informed outlook has worked wonders for me.

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Where Wander's core moveset would focus preeminently on violence and hostile action, Ico's was softer, less specialized, harder to describe. R1, which you have to hold down, allows you to hold Yorda's hand (or call to her, if she's away from you – much like Agro and Trico after her, buttons used notwithstanding); Square swings whatever blunt – or edged, or spiked – object you've got in your hand, but Ico is canonically like nine, so it's safe to assume he's not a fighter, or a climber, or a horserider. The one thing he can convincingly is seek out human contact: the one thing he is denied, as a horned kid. Yorda, on the other hand, has no such preconceptions: she may actually have no preconceptions, period, apart from her knowledge of a certain power and a certain purpose assigned to her. At the same time, Yorda starts out basically clueless but learns very very quickly: you explode the pillar holding the bridge up, then next room over you have to blow up some wood planks blocking the way forward and – assuming you've seen the bombs and the open flame right near the entrance – Yorda runs up to them and points at them, which is very clever foreshadowing of the second act's climactic moment. If Yorda is seen by her captors as a machine, built entirely as a means to an end – becoming the Queen's new body – then it has to be a fully functional one, shoutouts to Lieutenant Commander Data, but this has the side effect that she can learn trust. She can learn affection.

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No surprise then that R1 would be the key to hold Yorda's hand and call out to her. R1 is where the important stuff is in Team Ico's games. You hold R1 to core-mechanic your character into winning, i.e. into exerting emotional stimuli over the player, and it's no surprise that as such every time you're doing the R1 stuff the games tend to give you incredibly strong and constant sensory feedback. The controller vibrates, almost mimicking a heartbeat, as you're holding Yorda's hand. Alessio called it a "sensory nightmare" and deactivated the feature: not that I blame him, it can get annoying, but I actually sorta love it myself. It's the closest thing they can do to allow the player to perceive warmth, touch, life on their very skin. If Shadow of the Colossus is "a game about letting go", then ICO is a game about holding on. As such, it is necessarily much shorter than SotC: something you can quite literally burn through, like a friend you mad on that one week by the seaside when you were nine and had no mobile phone so you have no idea where that friend is now, what they're up to, what they're doing. You can only replay it, understanding its actions and words a bit better everytime but forever retrospectively, forever crystallized.

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It's a short and immensely sweet experience that ends on a bittersweet note to say the least (Fumito Ueda himself refers to the post-credits scene as a dream that Ico has going back to civilization, which means Yorda did not of course escape the crumbling castle) and yet manages to conjure deep feelings of beauty and warmth. It doesn't make any fucking sense to discuss the plot of this game, because honestly as narrative-driven as this game is, it already takes the shape of an experience that prefers player stories as the driving principle for the player to go on with the game, more so than its own narrative. I mean, Shadow of the Colossus is probably better at this – considering the even more bare-boned nature of its plot and the open ended lore that the player is left to to toy with – but something has to be born once already, in order for it to be reborn.

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P.S.: yeah, I'm assuming I might have to write something about that TGA trailer, you know the one. Since I'm most likely not going to be able to play it on release – because I will not be buying a PlayStation 5 just for one game, not right now anyway – I figured I should at least put something out analysing the thirty seconds flat of footage we've got. I'll see if I can squeeze out some coherent thoughts after fangirling for another while and report back once I do.

#schismusic #schism writing #long form content #videogames #team ico #gendesign #ico #fumito ueda #project robot #Bandcamp #Youtube

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