#dorito x old man

[reinekoya]

“My muse” △ x 6

[eliot-is-dead]

BillFord edit/YouTube self promo :p

Shameless self promo aside, I’m actually really proud of this lmao

[7s3ven]

RETIRED BOXER! SIMON RILEY X BOXER! FEM! READER

( head canons / short one shot )

Notes: a little bloody, age gap (reader is younger), parental issues, cussing

- Simon expected that once he quit boxing and left his career behind him, he would never have to deal with it again. He assumed wrong. He was called back by an old friend, John Price

“I know she doesn’t look like much but trust me, she packs a punch. She’s just like you.” John slid a picture of you forward, showing Simon your bright grin. How could a girl like you be as ruthless as he had heard in the news?

Simon knew what they called you; the female version of Ghost.

- During his prime, Simon was a merciless fighter. He was known for destroying his opponents to a pulp and apparently, you borrowed his methods

- “Come back, Simon. The boxing world misses ya. Don’t you miss it too? Come back and I promise yer, I’ll you the most famous trainer this club has ever seen.” John ambitiously stated, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“Trainer?” Simon questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“You train ‘er,” John tapped your photograph, “And you’ll go down in history.”

- It didn’t take much to convince Simon to return. All he needed to see was you train and he agreed in a heartbeat

- He watched you carefully as you sparred with a teammate. It was supposed to be a mock fight but you were treating it like it was real. Beads of sweat dripped down your neck as you moved without even thinking. You were on a hunt for blood

- Simon saw your eyes light up as your fist connected with your teammate’s nose. Blood dripped down, staining their teeth. But instead of kneeling down and sobbing, they smiled

- “Only the crazy ones go up against her. We have ‘ta put out a warning that if you spar with Y/N, she’ll make ya bleed.” John states. “So, what’da ya think?”

It took Ghost a moment to reply. He slowly nodded his head. “Okay. I’ll train her.”

John whistled, beckoning you over like a damn dog. Through, in the arena, that’s all you really were.

- You were excited to be paired with Simon, aka Ghost. You had watched his fights in your late teenager years. He was an absolute legend

- Despite Simon being a little annoyed John managed to drag him back into boxing, he soon overcame it while spending time with you

- You understood his advice that no one else could. He wanted you to punch harder? You did so until your knuckles split and Simon had to patch you up. He wanted you to practice your kicks? Say no more, you spend all night practicing.

- He wanted you to perfect your signature move? No problem. He just has to be prepared to find you slumped in the corner of the training arena the next day because you refused to leave until you got it perfect

- The line between trainer and trainee blurs when Simon gives you his number in case of emergencies. You call later that night.

“We’re out of Doritos!” You yell into the phone. Simon furrows his brows in confusion, rechecking your contact name.

“Wot?” He mutters in confusion.

He hears you mumble to yourself as you check the number you had dialled. And then you’re back on the line. “Sorry, sir. Wrong number. Meant to call my roommate.”

“You still want Doritos? I got some at my place.”

You pause before speaking again. “You got any Coco Cola?” Simon loudly hums. “I’m on my way.”

- You didn’t fight fair but Simon liked that about you. You bit and scratched like a feral animal and nobody ever punished you for it because you were the crowd’s favourite. And you just so happened to have another favourite as your esteemed trainer. Simon only had to wave his hand and the charges against you for clawing at a girl’s face during a match would be dropped

- It’s not like you meant to develop a crush on your trainer. It just… happened. He was an attractive man and you were only human

- You had the stupid idea of confiding in Jonny, another trainer whom you had formed a close bond with. You expected him to keep his mouth shut but little did you know, he had a knack for blabbing

- Everything fell to shit the day you collapsed. You were a living, breathing replica of Simon but that also meant you overworked yourself. You didn’t remember much of what happened that day

- You had just gotten out of the ring, victorious and listening to the crowd cheer. You remembered how your chest ached and yet you ignored it. The match was difficult which explained the way your legs wobbled in exhaustion

- Your lips were cracked and stinging and bloody spit coated your face. You looked and felt absolutely disgusting. But you didn’t have a chance to clean your face before black dots invaded your vision and it got harder to breathe

- You remember how your head hit the concrete but everything after that was an unknown blur

- You were sitting on the rooftop after being discharged by the hospital when Simon approached you.

“Kid.”

Your jaw clenched at the wretched name. That was all he saw you as; a kid who no longer had any idea what she was fighting for. “Don’t call me that.”

“Y/N.” He corrects himself and it makes you feel a little better. “You want out of the ring? Just say the word and I’ll get yer out.”

- Simon expected you to be like him. To realize that boxing was useless without passion. But when you turned to look at him, he saw the fury in your eyes.

“I ain’t quitting, sir. I don’t quit.”

“I know you had problems with your parents. They pushed you to do things you didn’t wanna. You don’t have ‘ta do this if ya don’t want to.”

“Don’t wanna fuckin’ talk ‘bout them. You ain’t my therapist.” You were more hostile than usual thanks to the stitches in your lips.

- “Kid.” The word just slips and Simon doesn’t have enough time to take it back.

“Call me that one more fucking time!” You exclaim, “I ain’t your fucking kid! I don’t want ‘cha to be my daddy!”

- Something clicks in Simon’s head as he remembers Jonny’s drunken words during a pool match. Jonny told Simon about your crush, unintentionally outing you. No wonder you were staring at him with so much pent-up rage. You were sick of this ‘will they, won’t they’ game

- “Y/N.” He states firmly, “I know how you feel about me. Jonny ain’t exactly good at keepin’ his mouth shut.”

“If you’re gonna reject me, hurry up. I don’t got all day.” He watches as you scowl, so quick to jump to conclusions.

“Who said I was gon’ reject you?”

“The way you’re looking at me right now says it.”

“This is literally my resting face.”

- Simon isn’t good at expressing any emotion whatsoever. But the way you make him feel is different. You brought his love for boxing back

- Before your trip to the hospital, you trained daily per Simon’s request. You thought it was so he could monitor you better. In reality, he just wanted to see you more frequently. He liked the way you laughed and the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled

- “Three words, Y/N. Say ‘I like you’ and I’m yours.”

Simon knows how prideful you are. You won’t repeat after him unless you really mean it.

“I like you.” Surprisingly, you say it. You’re playing with the hem of your knitted sweater and Simon almost laughs at how ironic it is

- You’re one of the most feared boxers currently, always lusting for blood, and Simon has you like putty without even touching you

- You don’t need to speak for Simon to know what you’re indicating now. You want him to kiss you. So he does

- He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours and you swear you feel fireworks go off

- From then on, the line between trainer and trainee ceases to exist. A week later, a picture of you and Simon kissing after your latest match makes headlines

- “Was this all a hoax to get me a date?” Simon grunts before taking a small sip of his tea.

“Yup.” John shamelessly confesses, “So, how’s my matchmaking skills?”

“Fucking shit.”

“Hm. Didn’t seem too bad when I saw you and your lady kissin’ in the hallway.”

“Don’t watch us make out, yer creep.”

“Then don’t make out where I can see it. I walk that route every single day. I don’t wanna see the two of you exchanging saliva.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Giving Bill Cipher the princess treatment prompt or hc's? (Bill totally isn't threatening Reader's entire family if they don't princess carry him and call him babygirl) I love how you write Bill by the way!

Warning: unhealthy relationship stuff and threats from bill.

After everything that went down with sixer and his supposed ‘betrayal’ bill didn’t think he’d find an another puppet companion so soon until one day he came across poor unfortunate you.

Some half baked sob stories of his origins and looking through his fingers at you to make sure you were feeling sympathy for him later, and you were effectively under his thumb by the end of the week. The quickest he’s ever manipulated someone into feeling sorry for him yet!

Now you were stuck forced to carry him in your arms whenever he wished and calling him…baby girl…why you never bothered to ask as whenever you did raise things into question with Bill it usual turns out something like this:

You: don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

Bill: and here I thought you were suppose to be supportive of my dreams and aspirations. Oh well I guess you didn’t need your family that much if you’re quick to question me-

You: No! It’s a brilliant plan! No flaws at all! You’re so smart…baby girl…

Bill: *smirks when you fall back in line* good now I demand to be carried in your arms *he gives you grabby hands*

You: *sigh* yes baby girl *proceeds to pick him up and carry him for the rest of the day*

You’d even have to call Bill baby girl when your mad unless you wanted the corpses of your family to be piled up on your front door!

It was ridiculous but what could you do when stuck in a less than ideal relationship with a demonic triangle who could bring you to heel with a simple click of his fingers? You were doomed to be his servant for the sake of your family and even if you did go to anyone about it, who’d believe you? You’d be the new old man Mcgucket for certain.

So you only sigh and do whatever Bill wanted in hopes it will satisfy him enough to leave your family alone, even if it was brief.

The worst case scenario would be If bill saw that you weren’t being enthusiastic in your affection towards him, then that would be a harder thing to dig your way out of. It didn’t matter whether you were tired mentally or physically, if Bill wanted to be carried in your arms he will want you to do so with a complicit smile on your face.

Bill: you don’t look happy to be carrying me? *squints his eye*

You: *quickly puts on a fake smile* what?! I’m more than happy to carry my baby girl! It’s the only highlight of my day, nothing could ever compete with spending time with my baby girl!

Bill: good! For a second there I thought you’d have to be attending a family members funeral for a moment. Haha guess I must’ve been seeing things, right? *he stares uncomfortably at you*

You: yeah because how could I ever show you any other emotion other than happiness and love. *internally dying*

Bill: also don’t over compliment me, it makes you look clingy and I don’t like clingy.

You internally: as if you aren’t clingy yourself you fucking discarded sentient Dorito chip.

It’s better to keep playing his game until he inevitably grows bored of you, and god forbid if you ever encounter Stanford Pines ever, your family is certain for destruction if Bill caught you talking to his traitorous ex partner. (Potential for Stanford x reader?)

Needles to say if you were to ever be granted the ability to time travel, you’d go back and warn yourself to not trust Bill Cipher, not if you want your family’s blood on your hands just because you didn’t call him Babygirl first thing in the morning.

You: morning bi-

Bill: whichever family member your love the most will die in 5 seconds if you don’t correct yourself sweetie.

You: morning babygirl, what should we do today?

Bill: *pats you on the shoulder* that wasn’t so hard was it? And I don’t feel like doing anything that requires me to part from you for suspicious periods of time incase you do something I don’t like. *stares at you menacingly*

You: good choice! All day with my babygirl? I’m so lucky…so extremely….lucky. *looks over at the photo of your family and friends* blessed even…

Bill: you sure are! Now why don’t you carry me! *grabby hands 2.0*

[sanguineterrain]

hey sanne! hope you're having a good day!

love your fics soo much and i always jump up a little when i get a notification for when you post on ao3!

i have a request if it interests you! what if jay and reader get stuck in a hostage situation together? like at a bank or a convenience store or something? just obsessed with the idea of jason being protective and badass in his civilian identity!

thank you for your lovely fics! 💕

thanks for the request!

jason todd x gn!reader. mild violence, robbery, jason being cute and sweet and a little awkward as per, reader is guilty of judging jason by his appearance.

****

The bell above the door chimes as you enter your favorite convenience store. You haven't been in a while, but the older clerk still nods and smiles at you, saying hello in an accent you don't know. You greet him back.

He's a nice man, sometimes sneaking in a free pack of gum into your bag. Proof that capitalism hasn't squashed everyone's spirit yet.

Actually, you used to regularly stop here to get a treat on your walk home. Lately, though, the prices have been too steep for your meager wages.

Three dollars for a bag of chips is actually ridiculous. Are they 24K gold chips? Will they cure fear gas syndrome?

Stupid inflation.

You take a step back, thinking maybe the price will lower if you put some distance between you. Instead, you bump into someone's shoulder. You quickly back away, apologies on your lips.

Whoa.

The shoulder belongs to possibly one of the biggest guys you've ever seen. Even swallowed up in his red hoodie, he looks like he could bench press four of you. He towers over the packaged cookie display, which is what he'd been looking at before your misstep.

He's also wearing long sleeves and jeans in eighty degree weather, which is... a choice. Maybe he has an iron deficiency. You want to tell him but think better of it.

"Sorry," you say at the same time that he says, "Sorry, y'okay?"

His voice is soft and deep. You nod, and he barely glances at you before he tucks in closer to the shelf, as if anticipating for you to pass him.

Instead, you bump into the adjacent shelf and knock a couple Doritos bags to the floor.

"Dammit," you whisper.

Hoodie bends down before you do, startling you with his speed. He puts the chips back. He looks at you, and you look at him.

His face is young, nose crooked like it's been in a lot of fights. He has a scar traveling from his right eye across his face to his lip.

Never judging a book by its cover is great in theory, but this is Gotham. Judgment keeps you safe.

He's cute, though. His lips are pink and full. There's a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose.

But you're not about to interact with anyone more than you need to at a convenience store, so you turn around and hope he doesn't try to approach you.

And it's like Hoodie can hear your thoughts because a moment later, he goes to another aisle, leaving you alone. You relax and peruse the chips in peace.

Cheetos. Are Cheetos worth three dollars and tax, though?

Maybe just a drink.

You go to the fridges and stare, debating between a ginger ale and a Snapple when the bell above the door jingles.

"This is a robbery!"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

You turn and see a guy in a ski mask with a gun pointed at the cashier. The old clerk is shaking and has his hands up. Yeah, you're never coming back here again. Overpriced Cheetos aren't worth it.

But then to your right, you see Hoodie, crouched on the ground. He gestures for you to get low. You hesitate.

"Hey," he says, as quietly as he can. "I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm gonna get us outta here alive, okay? But you gotta trust me a little. C'mere."

Hearing him speak at length, it's clear that Hoodie is Gotham-born and bred. And he's certainly not from the Heights. His drawl is thick and, dare you say, comforting. It's old-school Jersey, like you could walk into a diner and find him chatting with the retirees. The thought startles you.

What was that about books and covers?

You get low like he wants and scurry over to him. He scoots back against the last fridge and gestures for you to do the same.

"This is the blind spot for the cashier," Hoodie whispers. "I don't think he saw us, so you'll be okay here."

You nod. You can't speak. Can't move. Can't breathe.

"Hey." Hoodie tilts his head to find your eyes. His eyes are a brilliant teal. What a pretty color. "Hey, y'alright? Can you make a fist for me?"

You make a loose fist. He nods.

"Good. Now..." He checks around the shelf. It sounds like the clerk is still emptying the register. "Squeeze your fist and inhale. Then release your fist and exhale. Can y'do that?"

You clumsily follow his directions. He makes the fist with you.

"Good, good. Okay. 'S okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to ya, alright?"

You have no idea how he can promise something like that.

"When I push this shelf, run for the other side, okay? And when he's distracted, you'll leave out the front."

Your eyes fly to his in alarm.

"What?" you hiss. "Are you crazy? He'll shoot you!"

"I'm really fast," he says.

Oh, okay. He's insane too. Cool.

"Hurry the fuck up, old man!" the robber shouts. "I will shoot you."

Hoodie glares venomously in his direction. "Can't let 'im get away. Ready?"

No, not ready, definitely not ready!

He pushes a shelf with one leg. It crashes to the floor. Briefly, you wonder if he's ever crushed a watermelon between his thighs. From the size of them, he definitely could crush—

Okay, not the time.

He nudges your arm when you don't move. You book it to the other side of the store like he ordered. The robber clomps across the store, leaving the clerk.

"That was stupid, guy!" the robber shouts. "Really fucking stupid!"

Bang! You yelp and duck.

"What's stupid is your aim," Hoodie growls.

There's a few grunts and a landing punch. By the time you get up, the robber is out cold on the floor. Hoodie is disassembling the gun and unloading the chamber. Then he goes to the clerk.

"Thank you, good boy," the clerk says, still wobbly with fear. "Good Jason. So good."

Jason. A name for your savior.

"It's okay, Mr. Kourakis." Jason keeps talking, but it's not a language you understand. It's... Greek?

Just who is this guy, exactly?

Mr. Kourakis nods, shaky hands grasping Jason's forearms as he steadies himself. Jason comforts him for a moment, then gently extricates himself to retrieve the money from the unconscious robber and return it to the register.

On impulse, you take a Mrs. Fields double chocolate chip cookie from the shelf on your way to the register.

Mr. Kourakis keeps talking, obviously panicked. Jason soothes him in his rumbling voice, picking up the shelf he knocked over with one hand, like he's holding a basketball.

"Sorry, um, did you call the police?" you ask, interrupting their conversation.

Jason glances at you. "No cops. They're messy and inept. I told Mr. Kourakis that I'll take care of this."

Your brows rise. Inept? Looks like your savior has a great vocabulary too.

"And by 'take care of,' you mean...?"

He smiles a little, the scar on his lip stretching white. "Not like that. I meant that, uh, I got a buddy who knows a Bat."

Right, of course. You're four blocks from the Red Hood's territory.

Jason touches Mr. Kourakis' arm and tells him something else in Greek. Mr. Kourakis nods, then wearily flips the OPEN sign to CLOSED. He disappears into the back room after that.

"You can go," Jason says, not unkindly. He types something on his phone. Then he shuts it off and looks at you. "You hurt at all?"

You shake your head. You're still trying to puzzle him out. He's the weirdest Gothamite you've ever met.

"How do you know Greek?" you ask.

You don't know why you're asking questions. You should just take the blessing and leave.

"Study abroad," he says around a smile, like he's telling a joke that you're not privy to.

"...Right. And did you learn how to disarm a robber while you were abroad, too?"

"Nope," he says mildly. "I take jiu-jitsu classes at the Y."

You look at the crumpled robber on the floor. His mask is off and he has a black eye and a drying bloody nose. You doubt they teach that at the Y.

"Thank God for the Y, I guess," you say, turning back to Jason.

He shrugs. "Gotta defend yourself in Gotham."

No arguments there.

"Yeah. And thank you for, um. What you did back there. I got—I've never been held at gunpoint, and I guess I just... I dunno..."

Jason steps forward and makes an aborted gesture, like he was going to touch your arm. He doesn't, though, instead just nodding.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he says tenderly. "'S normal to be scared. You did great."

Jeez, is this guy a counselor? He looks too young to be doing that, though.

"You didn't seem scared," you say.

Jason shrugs, suddenly tense. "Ah, I just hide it well."

"Oh. Well, anyway." You put a few dollars on the counter and hold out the Mrs. Fields cookie. "'Least I can do is buy your cookie."

Jason's eyes widen. "I—y-you don't hafta—"

"It's really no trouble! It's all I can do to thank you. Because you really saved our butts today."

You shake the cookie a little. Jason hesitantly accepts it, then glances at your money on the counter.

"You shouldn't," he says. "This place price-gouges. Chips for three bucks is insane."

You grin. "It really is! But I don't mind. I've kinda lost my appetite, in any case. You deserve a cookie, Jason."

He blinks once-twice-three times at your use of his name. "Oh. It wasn't a big deal."

Is he serious? He can't be. "Of course it was! You risked your life for me. Thank you, seriously."

You start to back up towards the exit. Jason watches you, a mix of bewilderment and bemusement.

"Well, I gotta get home. Feed my cat." You make finger guns. God, you're lame. A good-looking guy saves your life, and you lose all sense. "Thanks again."

"Wait!"

Jason follows you outside, cookie in hand. His mouth is open like he's about to ask a question. You wait expectantly.

"Um." He swallows. "Prince Street."

"What?"

"The bodega on Prince Street. I know the owner. He's got better prices. You can tell him you're my friend. To, y'know, get a discount. Not... not that I think you're—I mean, I don't—"

You smile. Jason cuts himself off, looking a little frustrated.

"You're really sweet," you say. If you were crazier, you might kiss his cheek. "Thanks for the tip. And thanks for today. Take care, Jason."

"Yeah," he says as you walk down the block. "Yeah, you too."

[themoonweaversden]

All 179-244 (or so) codes that were found so far (no spoilers)

Note: As far as I'm aware if you input any word after selling your soul to Bill and press the knob you'll get the same result. I still think it's important to highlight the ones that didn't have any result once you imput them normally the day the website updated (AUDIOLOG, BUBBLES, CLEAR, CONTRACT, SMALL) these may have been just an error since it has been fixed since then

#

3466554

29121239168518

333 Sundapple Lane Cozy Creek IL 60714-94611

A

ABUELITA

ADASTRAPERASPERA

ALEX HIRSCH / ALEX / HIRSCH

AM I BLANCHIN

ANSWER

AXOLOTL

B

BAAAA

BABY / BABY BILL / LALALALALA / MOMMY / DADDY

BILL / BILL CIPHER / CIPHER / ILLB / LLIB REHPIC / REHPIC

BLACK SHEEP

BLANCHIN / BLANCHING / BLANCH

BLENDIN

BLIND EYE

BOOBERRY

BURN SIDE

BURNED INSIDE

BYE GOLD

C

CAESAR ATBASH VIGENERE / MULTILEVELMARK

CARD

CARYN

CIPHERTOLOGY

CLONE / TYRONE / PAPER JAM

CONSPIRACY

CRAY CRAY

CRYPTOGRAM CODEX

CURSE WITTEBANE

CURSED

D

DEATH

DEER TEETH

DESTRUCTION IS A FORM OF CREATION

DIONARAP

DIPPER

DIPPY FRESH

DISCO GIRL / BABBA

DISNEY / MICKEYMOUSE

DISPENSE MY TREAT

DIVORCE / BREAKUP

DORITO / NACHO / CHIP

DUCHESS APPROVES / THE DUCHESS APPROVES

DUCKTECTIVE

E

EASTER EGG

EMMALINE BUTTERNUBBINS

EUCLID / SCALENE / SCRIMBLES

EUCLYDIA

EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES

F

FAMILY MATTERS

FBI / CIA / NSA

FILBRICK

FIXINIT1

FORD / SIXER / STANFORD

FORDTRAMARINE

FORGET THE PAST

FUCK / SHIT / BITCH / SLUT / SEX

FUCK YOU ALEX

G

GIDEON

GIFFANY

GLASS SHARD BEACH

GLOBNAR

GOD / HELP ME / SAVE ME / FRILLIAM

GOODNIGHT SALLY

GRAVITY FALLS

GREBLEY HEMBERDRECK

GUN / THE GUN

H

HAROLDS RAMBLINGS

HECTORING

HEY NERD

HISTORY

HOLOGRAM

HORROR / CREEPYPASTA / ANALOG HORROR

HOTXOLOTL

HOW WILL I DIE / WHEN WILL I DIE

I

IM STILL ON YOUR MIND

IRREGULAR

IS HELL REAL

IS THERE AN AFTERLIFE

J

JOURNAL 1

JOURNAL 2

JOURNAL 3

JUST BLEND IN

JUST FIT IN

K

KINGS OF NEW JERSEY

KOOK

KUBRICK

L

L IS REAL 2401

LIAR LYRE

LIES

LIFE

LOVE / BOYFRIEND / LONELY

LOVE YA BRO

M

MABEL

MASON

MATH / GREECE / SHAPES / GREEK / PLATO / GEOMETRY

MCGUCKET / FIDDLEFORD / OLD MAN MCGUCKET

MEOW / MEOW WOW

MONSTER

MORALITY

MOUNTAIN DONT

MYSTERY

MYSTERY SHACK

N

NAITSUAF

NO

NOT A PHASE

NOTHING

O

OCCURREMUS ITERUM

OH YES THEY BOTH

ONE EYED KING

OROBOROUS

OWL TROWEL

P

PACIFICA

PAPER IS BOOK SKIN

PEAK

PINATA

PINES

PLATINUM PAZ

PORTAL

Q

QUESTION

R

R34LITY

RAT

REALITY

RIDDLE

ROBBIE

RUBBERHOSE

S

SCARY / SPOOKEMUPS / SPOOKY

SCIENTOLOGY

SEASON 1 / SEASON -1

SEASON 2

SEASON 3

SEVEN EYES

SEVERAL TIMES

SHAVE YOUR GRANDMA

SKELETON

SKIBIDI / FORTNITE / ELON / CRYPTO / DOGE / GYATT / RIZZ

SOMETHING

SOOS

SORRY

STAN / STANLEY PINES / STAN PINES / STANLEY

STOD EHT TCENNOC

SUCK IT MERLIN

T

TAD STRANGE

TANTRUM

THE BOOK OF BILL / BOOK OF BILL

THE DUCHESS APPROVES

THEORY / MATPAT

THERAPRISM

THEYLL SEE / THEYLL ALL SEE / I SEE

TINSEL SNAKE

TITANS BLOOD

TJECKLEBURG

TOBY DETERMINED

TORTURE MENTALLY

TOURIST TRAP

TRIANGLE

TRIGONOMETRY

U

UNIONMADE

UNIVERSE

UNREALITY

V

VALLIS CINERIS

VIRUS

W

WADDLES

WEIRD

WEIRDMAGEDDON

WELL WELL WELLBEING

WENDY

WHICH RELIGION IS RIGHT

WHO ARE YOU

X

XGQRTHX

XYLER / CRAZ

Y

YES

YOU CANT KILL AN IDEA

YOURE INSANE

Will update if more are found

[tea-plantz]

your bill hcs were so good and got me thinking... what about yandere bill w/ a reader whos in a relationship already with ford?? i love your work btw!!!

Oooh this is such an interesting request! Thank you so much for submitting this, I absolutely LOVE writing stuff like this!

He/him for Bill

They/them for the reader

<Yandere Bill Cipher x reader who’s in a relationship with Ford Pines>

When Bill found out that you were already with somebody, he was devastated, moreover, when he found out that the other person was Ford, he completely lost it. You were supposed to be HIS and HIS ALONE!!

Homeboy was oozing with jealousy fr.

The triangle couldn’t grasp how you could fall for someone like Ford! I mean, it’s Ford for gods sake!

He probably stalked the two of you while you were out on dates, all while angrily muttering to himself and sending an unknowing Ford death stares. (Bill punching the air rn)

At first he debated on just killing Ford and getting it all over with, that’s usually the easiest way to solve problems, but then he realized that if he did that, you would most definitely hate him.

He couldn’t risk that happening and he knew it, Bill isn’t a dumb guy, y’know. Therefore, he decided on the second best option: To threaten Ford instead.

Bill waited until the timing was just right, before appearing right in front of Ford himself in one of his most terrifying forms. (Like when he’s all red and big and stuff)

“Cipher?! What do you want? Haven’t you already tormented me and my family enough?!” “Ford Pines, my good pal! I’m not here to cause any harm old man, I’m just here to reclaim something that’s MINE buddy” “What? Something of yours? I have no idea what you’re talking about Cipher!” “A precious little s/o of yours say’s otherwise!”

Once Ford realized what Bill was talking about, he panicked. Y/n? Why did Bill want you? No! He can’t let that demon have you! Who knows what the hell that psycho had in mind?!

Now, the outcome of this conversation was mostly just Ford becoming way more protective over you, and Bill failing to claim you as his.

So when that didn’t work, he resorted to plan B: pursuing you.

“Hey, sugar tits (pls someone stop me) why be with that old sack of meat, when you could be with a real charm devil *wink wink* (with ultimate rizz)

The dorito tried every trick in the book to win you over without causing any harm as to not scare you, but when you still stayed with Ford after everything, he finally snapped.

You were his and ONLY his, that’s the way it is supposed to be, and if you can’t accept that, he will just have to make you realize how much better than Ford he is, resulting in some pretty traumatic scenes for you, but not to worry! Your new boyfriend is here to make it all okay… he can treat you better then Ford, better than anybody for that matter, and he was going to prove it.

Look at him, such a silly little thing

[selineram3421]

🎵🎶*and again*

You're Off-key

Part 4

Part 3

Reader X Gravity Falls

Warning ⚠

⚠ everyone is aged up, nap interrupted, dream realm, toxic old man yaoi mention, mention of demons and ghosts, Ford being weird again, food mention-eggs, cussing, Italics= thoughts ⚠

You opened your eyes to a view of a familiar place.

It's a place you'd always go to when you had the chance to see a nice view of the sunset. Which was at a park, and your favorite spot was on top of the slide. The funny part was that the sunset was facing away from the slide, so you were sitting backwards.

"Not too shabby kid."

"AH!", you screeched and slid down the slide, slowly coming to a stop at the bottom with an upset face. "I didn't want to slide down yet."

"Haha!"

Looking back towards the planets, your neck at the edge of the slide making your head hang, and you see a very bright and shiny floating cool ranch dorito. Maybe you were just hungry for chips now.

"Whoa, I know I look like a snack but keep your thoughts under control.", Bill says with a back off motion.

"Oh, ew.", you cringe. "You're not my type at all."

Sitting upright and facing the right direction, you noticed that everything was different from the Dreamscaperers episode. Probably because it was Stan's mind and you are more into weird art. Explains the melting park clocks and the sky being all space like.

"Oh yeah, your type is more-"

"Nope, shutting you up now! What do you want?", you say quickly and cross your arms.

"Just here to see how you're enjoying Gravity Falls! How's Sixer doing? Still doesn't understand social norms? Haha!"

"Still into the nerdy old guy?", you smirk. "Also, knock next time you try to get in here. I'm not Ford, so you can't just do anything you want."

"I somewhat regret putting those pages in the book.", Bill says and then shrugs. "Whatever kid, I'm practically a ruler of dreams."

"Nope.", you stand up and pop the P. "You're in my head and I am the master of the dreaming realm.", you point your thumb at yourself. "You know how many ghosts and demons try to crack this baby? It's impenetrable."

"Look kid."

"I'm old enough to drive an actual car.", you counter.

"And I'm older than you.", Bill snaps his cane into existence and twirls it. "Never mind that, I really want to know how the Pines family is doing. Can't exactly find out unless I have you! So, let's make a deal here.", the triangle holds his hand out. "Let me have access to your mind and I'll let you stay in this little town for longer, what do you say?"

"Pfft-", you start laughing. "You think-hahahaha! You think I'm gonna make a deal with you for something as dumb as that? Hahahaha!"

"Well, when you say it like that-"

"I didn't even put my thumb on that bloody thumbprint in the book! What makes you think I'm gonna fall for more of your tricks after the spaghetti? Hahahahaha!", you continue laughing.

"STOP LAUGHING!", Bill starts turning red.

"Aw, sorry Billy-oop.", you immediately stop. "That slipped out and I apologize."

The way Bill started at you was creepy, he was zoned out and slowly transforming into something terrifying. His limbs growing longer and a mouth with sharp teeth forming.

"Time to wake up."

Bill charged at you.

"NOW!"

⯅

"No more triangle chips!", you shout as you wake up.

Something is weighing on your head and you find the headset on you again. The wires were longer than before and led out of the room, downstairs.

"Seriously?", you sigh and take it off. "Ford! I said wait till I'm conscious!"

You get up and head to the bathroom to clean yourself up, washing off all the blood and putting new bandages. After getting dressed with the clothes Mabel left, you open the bathroom door to find Waddles the pig sitting outside, holding a little note.

"Oh hey oinkers.", you greet and take the note to read. "Breakfast is ready downstairs. Hope you like eggs."

It takes you a second.

"Wait, what? Breakfast? How long was I asleep?", you asked no one. "Was I out all day? What kind of bullshit?", you huff. "Damn nacho chip. Not cool."

You make your way downstairs and hear talking coming from the living room. Leaning against the wall, you listen in on the conversation.

"I can't understand these readings! It's all static and weird noises. None of it makes sense!", Ford says and you hear paper shuffling around.

"Grunkle Ford, I think you're going too far with this.", you hear from the living room, Dipper. "They are a normal person. Mabel did her whole question thing! You know that thing is unbelievably long!"

"What? Like her strange dating quiz? They finished the whole thing?", the old man asked.

"It was only two hundred questions this time.", the younger twin reassured.

Ford is trying to read my mind! I fucking called it! You pointed up at the air and then silently sighed. Time to face the music.

Taking a step into the living room, you point at the nerds with a serious face.

"You!"

"AH!", Dipper screeched and hid some papers behind his back. "Hey! We were just uh-"

"I was going over some math problems with my nephew to win a board game.", Ford says quickly.

"Baloney! I woke up to the helmet thing on my head again!", you crossed your arms. "If you really wanted to get into my head, then ask me questions! I'm only bound to lie twenty percent of the time!"

"That's a really low lie rate.", Dipper whispers.

The older twin sighs and rubs between his brows. "Fine, I confess. I've been trying to read your mind with the headset but all I've been getting is static noise."

"Why though? You said it yourself, I'm not much of a threat with my concussion.", you ask. "Unless there's something you think I'm hiding?"

I mean, understandable but jeez. Ask me like a person.

"I...apologize.", Ford says as he avoids eye contact and adjusts his glasses. "I'm still getting used to being around people and being out at sea with just my brother isn't really enough social interaction.", he turned away from you.

"But why try to read my mind? What could possibly lead you to do something like that?", you ask.

Ford's eyes were hidden by the glint of the light coming from the television. He was eerily stiff as he faced you completely. Then he pointed behind you like someone was standing there.

"Bill's shadow follows you."

You felt a chill go through the room.

"Who..", you gulped and hugged yourself as you panicked on the inside. "Who is Bill?"

Hehehehehehe...

~Seline, the person.

Part 5

Taglist@

@diffidentphantom @sleep-7372 @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mspurpl3 @gxstiess @lynkolnevans @fries11 @paastaboi @the-monochrome-jester @staygold162 @geckodarla @klwrites @alias-sam @eddwardtheseventhspacewizard @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff @+?

GF List🏞 | YO-🎹

[princessdimondheart]

The Twins | Ghost x Wife! Reader

Pairing: Ghost x f! Reader + Their Twins

Warnings: 🔪- violence, terrorist act, blood, inaccurate medical scenes; 😭- fear, emotional stuff, family; 🥺- well deserved happiness

Edited: No

A/N: Simon’s mother doesn’t have a canon name so I decided it’s based off of a flower. You pick which one. Almost 8k words 😳. Part 2? Idk. Sorry it took so long! 😭😭

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

Tommy brushed his short hair back like it would do anything. It was a standard military cut, close shaven but not exactly bald. When he had it cut- to get used to it he told himself- his twin sister, Violet, laughed in his face. Said he looked like an escaped inmate with the cut or someone from pre-Y2K. He pouted remembering it, he had yelled something about her blue-dyed hair being basic and threw a dirty sock in her face. She yelled and then grabbed his arm and proceeded to throw him over her shoulder. He really should have seen it coming. Her hard work in Tai Kwon Do really paid off. His back and ass hurt for the next few days. 

Unfortunately, his poor mother paid witness to the little altercation. She was tired from a long shift at the hospital and was laying on their gray couch munching on Doritos. She only shook her head when he whined to her about Violet. She told him that if he wanted to join the army like he dreamed about, then he would have to toughen up and not complain about things whenever they went wrong. A distant look shown in her eyes. An old memory most likely; one of their long gone father, a military man, and one of the reasons why Tommy wanted to join. To follow in his father’s footsteps despite his job being the reason he wasn’t in their life anymore. He and his twin got quiet and then went their separate ways. They knew how much the loss of their father hurt their mother and they didn’t want to bring her any more pain by mentioning him when she’s emotionally drained from her shift. 

When Tommy had told her that he wanted to join the army, his mother froze in shock before tears spilled from her eyes. A hand covered her sobs and her brow furrowed. He had never seen his mother cry before and it nearly had him spiraling. He rushed to hug his mother asking her what was wrong. When she calmed down, she pulled back and held his cheek in her hand. 

“You’re just like your father. I knew something like this was going to happen but I wasn’t sure it would be so soon.” She wiped her tears with her other hand. “It’s okay, you can go if you really want to.”

He didn’t realize the tears building up in his eyes until they were running down his face. He was only 15 but he was already a head taller than his mother. She said he got his height from his father. Tommy had to tell her his decision because her permission was what would get him into the army when he turned 16. He had no other dreams, just the army and making his parents proud. 

“Tommy! Are you done checking yourself out? We need to go to this last store before heading home.” Violet’s voice crashed his preening in front of a mirror in an H&M store. “The sun’s already set and we’re running late as it is.”

“Chill, Vi, we don’t always have to be punctual. Mom’s on shift anyways, we can go home at whatever time we want!” He looked at her through the mirror. 

She rolled her eyes at him, scoffing, “says the boy that wants to join the army where punctuality is very important.” 

Violet’s eye color was from her mother, in fact, all of her looks were from her, even her height except her eye shape was from their dad. Tommy was the one who was almost a carbon copy of their dad. There were slight variations in their looks, like skin tone and hair texture but nothing too different. He liked the fact that he looked like his dad. It made him feel closer to him in a way. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, let’s go so you can shut your whining. I am in the army.” Tommy mumbled the last part under his breath. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pushed the other in front of her face, wiggling his fingers for the bags she was holding. She handed them over when he moved his hand closer to her face and she swatted it away. Sure, he messed around with his sister but he was still a gentleman. His mother would fry his ass if he was anything but. 

They were heading to Piccadilly Circus to look at the stores in search of a birthday present for their mom. It was coming up soon and they were running behind in the gift department. All other aspects of the little party they were planning were already put together, the only thing left was her gift. Now that he was in the army for just over a year, he had some money saved up and was planning on using it for her gift. That was the reason why he was here, he was on leave for her birthday next week. Violet suggested a nice pair of earrings and a necklace for her since she doesn’t really own jewelry other than her wedding bands. Tommy readily agreed. 

The walk from H&M to the square wasn’t longer than ten minutes but they took their time window shopping along the way. The square was decently crowded, it was a Thursday after all and there were plenty of tourists and locals scurrying in and out of the shops. Tommy rubbed his hands together, it was cold that night. Unusual for the time of year but he assumed global warming was to blame. He really wished spring would finish up so summer could get here. 

~~~~~

Ghost was methodically sharpening his knife on a whetstone when Price knocked on his door with a loud bang. His masked head whipped up and he gripped the knife tighter. 

“Load up, Simon. My office, yesterday!” His voice was hurried and gruff. Something was going down and that made Ghost kit up faster than normal. Grabbing his gun he was out of his room in less than a minute. 

In Prices office was the rest of 141, Gaz and Soap were kitted up in their tactical vests with their weapons slung over their shoulders. No one was sitting. 

“We just got word that a terrorist plot is going to go down tonight at Piccadilly Circus. We’re going to head over there before it goes down.” Price shook his head. “Hopefully our presence deters them or we’re able to put a stop to them before anyone gets hurt.”

Gaz was reasonably upset. He had been there for the first attack on the square a few years ago. It was actually how he got into Price’s sights in the first place and joined the Task Force. “Again? Seriously?”

The Captain gave him a knowing look. “If it’s going to be an issue, you can stay here Kyle. You don’t have to go.”

“No-no, sir. It won’t be an issue.” Gaz sighed. “I just hope it turns out better than last time.”

Soap patted him on the shoulder. Price nodded at him and then walked to his office door. 

“Let’s go!”

~~~~~

Violet had tugged on Tommy’s jacket and pointed out a jewelry store that seemed promising. Luckily it was still open so they both went inside. The clerk greeted them but wasn’t as attentive to them because of their youth. That is until they told her their budget. Typical. 

She was looking into the bright glass boxes filled with different types of jewelry in gold, silver, diamonds or other precious stones. Tommy wasn’t really paying attention to her. He fiddled with his dog tags and the busted up ones that belonged to his father. They rested over his jacket. He’d hum and glance at a necklace she was pointing to but he was rather distracted. There was a small commotion just across the street near the metro entrance. 

A black van pulled up and several men jumped out of it seemingly inconspicuous. He thought nothing of it until he saw a handgun sticking out of his waistband. Now, Tommy didn’t do that great in the section about their laws in school but he sure as hell knew that guns were illegal in their country. His brows furrowed, and Violet tugged at his sleeve once more to get his attention. 

“Tommy! What’s with you?” She voiced her annoyance. “What are you looking at?”

She peered around him but didn’t notice what he was staring at so intensely. Tommy noticed that one of the men planted something on a nearby car parked on the street. He felt something go through his body. It was a feeling of cold and dread. Dread of what was most likely going to happen. What it was he didn’t have a clue. He just felt the cold chill his blood and goosebumps ran down his arms. 

His eyes widened in shock and fear when one of the men pulled out an assault rifle from the truck. He only had a few seconds. 

“Get down!” Was all he could manage to get out. 

Tommy turned and grabbed his twin by her arms, pulling her into his body. The shots rang out directly towards them and in various directions. He vaguely remembered hearing a loud boom ring out. Screams spread around them. Tommy could only feel the burning sensations coming from his right arm, lower back and left leg. Violet’s screams were muffled by his jacket, the dog tags dug into her face. Her head had hit the ground hard despite Tommy covering it with his hand, and it throbbed in that dull way. Glass shattered around them and alarms were going off. They dropped heavily to the ground. Tommy’s body was covering Violet’s protecting her from the blaze of bullets still lodging themselves in the walls around them. 

Violet screamed again as one land near their heads. Tears ran down both their faces. He tightened his grip on her. 

“Violet- Violet, please.” He grunted. “It’s okay, we-we’re gonna be fine. Just lay down. S-stay quiet, yeah, you’re good, Vi.”

She was shaking. He was shaking. Although his body was prepared for going to war, his mind had yet to catch up. Although, Tommy wasn’t sure if it was nerves that was causing him to shake, the cold chill spilling through the shattered store front, or the blood seeping out from his wounds. 

Violet felt wet but she couldn’t figure out what it was. At first she thought she had wet herself in fear but the feeling was coming from her torso. She turned her head as best as she could and saw Tommy grimacing in pain. Her eyes looked further down and saw the blood pooling under her. She wasn’t in pain. 

“Tommy! Ta-Tommy, you’re bleedin’!” Her voice pitched high with alarm. She sobbed into his shoulder. Her hands tucked into her body pulled out and wrapped around his back. She held him tight. 

“I-I’m fine, Vi.” He stuttered out. He was feeling weak from the blood loss. 

“Don’t l-lie to me Tommy.” She hiccuped. “You’re s-shit at it.”

More explosions rang beyond the store. They shook the building they were in. Pieces of debris were falling from the ceiling, landing on and around them. Suddenly, various gunshots were fired in rapid succession and Violet worried that more terrorists had arrived. She hoped that the police or some anti-terrorist agency would arrive soon. Several minutes pass and the gunfire lessened until it finally stopped. 

“Tommy? We can get up now, l-let me put pressure on y-your wounds.” Tommy wasn’t saying anything and that worried Violet. Her breathing quickened in her panic. “Tommy!? Get up! Tommy!”

Her hand reached up to push him off of her. It was a struggle as he had gained a significant amount of weight in muscle over the last year. He weighed a ton and when she was finally able to push him off of her, Violet was huffing even with her martial arts skills. Other times she’s able to pull him over her shoulder with momentum but now he was dead weight. God she dreaded the thought. Her shaking hands scrambled to his neck. Two fingers felt for his pulse and found a faint one. It fluttered but it was still there. She sighed in relief. 

Violet tried to remember the first aid course that she took last summer that their mom’s hospital was offering to students interested in joining the medical field. She surveyed his unconscious body to find any wounds and when she found them all she got to work as best as she could. Violet took off her jacket and wrapped it around Tommy’s arm hoping to slow down the bleeding. Then she remembered that he had on a belt and so she took it off to tie around his leg. He unconsciously groaned when she tightened it. She couldn’t really put pressure on the wound on his back but she tried her best to keep a hand covering the wound. The bullet hadn’t gone all the way through and stayed lodged inside him. It wasn’t sanitary but it was the best she could do. 

Her body continued to shake and she looked around the destroyed jewelry store. There were other bodies lying around. Blood was smeared on the shattered glass display where the lady was standing minutes before. The lack of pained noises sent a pang through her chest. More tears rolled down her cheeks and onto Tommy’s shuddering chest below her. She wished she hadn’t insisted on stopping by the other store instead of going straight here. They would have been home earlier. She wished she were the one injured and not Tommy. She was the oldest by a few minutes and it was her job to protect her little twin brother. She wished her mom was there to help Tommy. She wished her dad was there to help them get through this. 

She cried and cried. Pain and sadness filling her up and boiling over in body racking sobs. Her hand gripped one of Tommy’s. 

The silence was almost unbearable, until it wasn’t. 

~~~~~

They were too late, again. The intel that they had been receiving lately was always a little too late than normal. Ghost knew that Price was gonna have a word with all the intelligence personnel when they were done with the mess that was before them. Gaz was pissed as his expression showed. They’d all seen similar scenes like this before but it always hurt more when it happens on home soil. 

The police had arrived but were not as prepared as the Task Force, so they set up a perimeter not letting anyone in or out. They had dispatched all of the terrorists within a few minutes of them being in Piccadilly Circus. A few had lingered in the square while others had gone into some of the shops. Once the area was cleared and the police had began searching for survivors, Price had them doing the same. 

“Soap, Gaz, go together and look for anyone still breathing on the north side. Ghost and I’ll stay on the south side of the square.” They split up and began their search. 

Ghost passed a few bodies that weren’t alive. He saw the Captain flinch at the body of a child but he never said anything. Children were always hard in their line of work but for him it hit closer to home than what Ghost could ever understand. 

“Hello? Is anyone alive?! We’re the army!” Price began to call out in hopes of an answer back. 

There was silence yet it was loud. Sirens, alarms, and broken glass crunched underfoot and around them. They saw that the police and EMTs had found a majority of the survivors near them so they pushed further into the square. Price called out again and a muffled cry called back. 

“Help! Help me please!” The feminine voice cried to them. Her voice pulled them towards her like a lifeline. 

They ran to where the voice came from, a rather famous jewelry store that didn’t look as nice as before. The broken glass and bullet holes would turn anyone away. Ghost made it to the entryway first but Price stopped him with his hand. He gave him a look and went in first. Then Ghost remembered his skull mask and the fear it brought to people, especially civilians, so he waited until he was needed. The familiar crackle of the radio was heard faintly. 

“Shite, get in here Ghost! They’re kids!” Great, another demographic that he wasn’t really good with. When he stood by them he realized that these kids were older than what he thought. They were teenagers. 

Then, he froze. 

Years of memories rushed through his mind in seconds. The sound of laughter… a certain hair color… the smell of her favorite perfume… her flowers, whose scent would waft up his nose whenever he came home. Things he so painfully remembered and yet chose to let go so as to not cause tremendous harm. A feeling that he had longed to never let go. He grasped at the tendrils for a short while before that dreadful night. 

Those eyes… they were her eyes. At first he thought that she was kneeling there before him, but then remembered that more than a decade had passed and she would have changed in that time. Rarely had he seen her with tears streaked down her face. Or blood on her clothes…

Her look-alike cried out a sob and reality overtook his memories. 

“Please, please help my brother he got shot.” The girl pleaded looking up as he walked closer. She wasn’t scared of him in the mask but she was for her brother. That’s when Ghost looked down. 

Was he staring in a mirror? This boy. This kid. It was like looking at a photo of his younger self. 

Clink.

Ghost’s eyes snapped to the sound of metal in Prices hand. He’d already done a glance over of the boy and decided that the girl did a good job of wrapping his wounds with what she had. 

“Are these his?” Price asked the distraught girl. 

“Y-yeah. Tommy just joined the army not long ago. Barely over a year in.” She breathed in deeply as if to calm her mind. 

Tommy… he knew a Tommy once. His own brother. Every piece was coming together. He was one, and they were the other two. Just one was left…

“…and the other?” Price continued. He didn’t need to ask but he wanted to confirm the information he held. The cheeky bastard. 

“It’s our fathers… or what’s left of him.” Those same eyes as her looked down. Sadness filled them. Sadness for himself, he realized. A father long gone. Those were the tags that he left behind in the wreckage. Now here they were… somehow returned to him. 

Ghost hardly remembered when the ambulance pulled up in front of the store. Or when the EMTs moved Tommy onto the stretcher. But he did remember the smell of his blood and the salt in the air from her tears. 

Price was able to convince the EMTs to let them go with Tommy and his sister. They weren’t happy about it but decided that armed men tagging along with them after a terrorist attack wouldn’t be so bad. He’d also radioed Soap and Gaz of their departure. They had found some victims buried under rubble and were trying to get them out with some firefighters. 

Price whispered low enough for only Ghost to hear. “You doin’ okay, Simon?”

He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? His new-found daughter was siting across from him while his son lay injured, bleeding out from wounds caused by a terror act not thwarted by his team. He felt useless. Yet, he felt grateful that he was able to meet his children in a way. The situation was horrible, but that brought them together; and it was highly likely that if it had not happened then he would have never learned about them. He’d have probably died in combat before he ever heard whispers of them. No, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He would continue on the path placed in front of him, for now at least. 

He just shrugged his shoulders and stayed silent. That must have been enough for Price as he just eyed him for a bit before looking down at what the EMTs were doing to stabilize Tommy. 

“Oh!” Price jolted in realization. “We never got your name, love! So sorry.” 

The girl looked up at them. She glanced at him then at John. Ghost must have looked strange sitting there in his black gear. They both definitely looked out of place in the ambulance. 

“It’s fine. I’m Violet… Mister…?” She wasn’t stuttering anymore but her voice was subdued and scratchy from her crying. 

“Call me John, young lady.” He nodded at her. “And this is Ghos-“

“Simon, will do.” He had no idea why he cut him off or why he gave her his name, but it brought a grin to Prices lips. 

“Oh, it’s like my da-“ The ambulance coming to a stop cut her off and the EMTs began off-loading the gurney. 

They moved themselves out of the way and followed closely behind as he was rolled into the emergency department. There were other ambulances dropping off patients from the attack. EMTs, doctors and nurses were coming in and out, and there was a heavy police presence at the entrances. 

Inside was more chaotic. The hospital was in Code Orange for mass casualty or disasters. 

Patients lay in gurneys as nurses and residents tended to them. Many of the dead rested under blood soaked sheets, yet to be moved to the morgue. Blood pooled on the white floors, some of it was stepped on and tracked throughout the rooms. Cleaning workers did their best to mop up the evidence of the nights tragedy. Very few had minor injuries. Friends and family were there searching for missing relatives. One of the smarter police officers began a missing persons board and had them write descriptions of the missing. 

As Violet stepped through the automatic door, she saw her mom finish tending to an older lady who had been grazed by bullets and suffered a concussion when she fell over. She fiddled with her gloves. It was loud in there but when she called for her mother, the older woman’s head shot up in fear. 

“Mom!”

Hearing this, Ghost’s eyes scanned the crowd. He had to find her. A face he hadn’t seen in years, unless he counted the similarities with his daughter. It wasn’t so hard. He’d recognize her face if he was blind and only had his hands to see. 

She was older, of course, but no less as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was styled differently, likely due to her job, but still shined healthily. Her scrubs were in her favorite color and a blood stained white lab coat donned her body. She wore blue gloves and a face mask as she tended to her patients. 

“Violet!” She speedily walked to her daughter, passing between other doctors and nurses. Fingers tugged on latex and she dumped the gloves in a garbage can filling up with similar bloody items. Her hands rested on Violet’s shoulders as she couldn’t hug her with all the blood on her. 

She gasped when she saw Tommy. 

“Tommy!” She cried and tears flooded her eyes. Her hands went to his cut up face. “You were there?!”

An EMT asked her to help them. “This patient needs immediate care, doctor!”

“I-I’m sorry. I’m too close to the patient.” She stuttered. 

She looked around her in the chaos for a free doctor. She hardly noticed the two armed men hanging back. Her eyes stopped on her colleague. He had worked as a doctor for over forty years and had done thousands of surgeries. He had been a great mentor to her since she first started working at this hospital. 

“Jack! Dr. Yates!” She called over to him loud enough for others to look over. The older gentleman startled but made a bee-line for her. When he was close, she grabbed a part of his white sleeve. “Please, doctor, help my son. I’m too close to work on him properly.”

The grayed man gave a look over Tommy and had them immediately push him to an open operating room. He grasped her upper arm. “Don’t you worry your brilliant mind, sunny. We’ll get him spick and span in no time. Take a break for a few minutes, you’ve been running around since 5 this mornin’.”

Letting go, she only nodded along as they wheeled Tommy away. She allowed a tear to fall. It dripped onto the floor, mixing with other bodily fluids that fell from their patients. She tried not to let her fear of her losing another person get to her. 

Not again. Not here. Not now. 

“Mom?” Violet called for her worried about her sudden silence. She tugged on the back of her white coat, which was still white, surprisingly. That got her moving. 

“Violet? Are you alright? You’re okay, right? There’s blood all over you!” She inhaled once. “Do I need to get you som-“

“Mom! I’m fine! Honestly!” Violet interrupted, her bottom lip wobbled. “T-Tommy protected me. He saved me, mom!”

She sobbed harder than before and her mom, now not caring for the blood, pulled her in for a tight hug. They clung to each other desperately. Violet was shorter than her mom so she was able to burry her face into her neck. Tears wetting her skin and clothes. 

Movement behind them, made her look up, unsure if anyone else needed help. It was the two men that had come in with Violet. She had not really noticed them before because all her focus was directed to Tommy and Violet; her two most important things in life. Both had some blood on, what she now realized was military kits, and they stood there in silence carrying their weapons slung over their shoulders. One wore a funny fishing hat and the other had a rather fitting face mask for the overall mood of the day. The skull plated mask hid the face underneath. Her eyes lingered and he caught her gaze. 

Ghost stared at his once-wife in the eyes. The eyes that would always making him feel like he was falling deeper into her soul. She spoke but his ears weren’t working. Price answered and his hand whacking his arm made him blink twice and their staring ended when she looked at Prices hand. 

“No, we’re fine… Doctor…?” Price answered her worries of injury. 

“I’m Doctor-“

“Dr. Riley!” A nurse interrupted her. Ghost felt his chest tighten. She’d kept his name. “We need you here! He’s code blue-ing!”

She sprang from her daughters arms. “Coming! Violet go to my office and stay there for me, please. I’ll be back soon, hopefully.”

Violet nodded before her mom ran off to where the patient had just rolled in. She jumped onto the gurney and began chest compressions. The EMTs continued to the elevator and up to the operating rooms like nothing had happened. More nurses followed them into the large elevator. Her mom pumping that mans chest was the last she’d see of her for the next few hours. 

She was still a Riley. His Riley. After all these years, he remembered her saying that she wanted to keep her maiden name for her doctor status. He was always okay with that and knew she’d never change her mind, despite her taking his name, although hyphenated, when they married. He wondered what made her change her mind. Then he remembered that he had ‘died’ several months before her graduation as a resident. He reminisced on how he snuck in to see her one last time at the ceremony before running away to the battlefield. 

Price eyed Ghost as he stood there staring at the closed elevator doors, even when they opened as another body was taken down to the morgue. He looked tense, brows furrowed, pained, and understandably so. His whole life just flipped over and over in the matter of a few hours. 

But then Ghost glanced at his hands. Bloodied hands. Tommy’s blood. Then to Violet and then back again to the dried blood. The blood of his only son. It dawned on him that he almost lost him. Almost her. Both of them could have been stripped of their lives. And so easily too. He hardly knew them and that hurt him even more. 

“Ah… let’s escort you to your mums office, yeah?” Price called to Violet, who was also spacing out. 

She wiped her face and nodded. She led them to the stairwell and they climbed up two stories. Several corridors down and they were in a decent sized office. Price told them he would get them some snacks and drinks at the vending machines he saw awhile back. Ghost knew he was giving him time to talk to Violet. He was somewhat grateful and annoyed that Price knew what he needed. 

They both sat down on the cushioned chairs. Violet flung herself down with a loud sigh. She was drained both mentally, physically and emotionally. She wanted this nightmare to be over. 

“You’re Violet, right?” His deep voice asked and Violet’s eyes drifted upward. He’d heard her name multiple times, was even introduced, but he needed the confirmation again. 

“Yeah, I’m Violet… why?” She looked a bit confused, brow raised just like her mother used to give him. 

His chest tightened and he felt like he couldn’t get the words past his lips but he forced himself to. There was no better time than right now. “I- I just know your mum… that’s all.”

“Really? Why didn’t she recognize you?” She asked but Ghost pointed at his masked face and she blushed. “Oh, right.” 

The silence was awkward for a moment before Violet spoke, surprising Ghost with her words. 

“Well… I like your mask. Kinda edgy. It’s actually pretty cool… for an old man.”

“How do you know I’m old?” Ghost tilted his head slightly. 

Violet scoffed and crossed her arms, leaning back into the chair. “You know my mom, so you’ve gotta be old.” Ghost almost rolled his eyes; she was gonna be the death of him. Then she looked contemplative. 

“Do you think Tommy will still be able to be in the army?” She looked at his eyes, her brows furrowed even more. “It’s been his dream for the longest and now that he’s in, I don’t think he’d ever get out… but if he’s discharged, I think that’ll hurt him the most.” 

Ghost didn’t say anything right away so she continued her little rant. “Mom tried to get him to go to uni, but his heart was set on the army ever since he learned that our dad was in. He held onto that dream for so long and when mom let him go, well, I’ve never seen him so happy…”

Her breath shortened as tears ran down her face. “I—I should have been paying more attention. It’s my fault. I have no situational awareness, damnit, even Tommy’s told me that before. If I’d noticed sooner or realized what was going on, he wouldn’t be hurt. I’m the older twin. I should be-be the one taking care of him!” She sobbed harder. 

Ghost came to kneel in front of her. He took her hand that was twisting her bloody shirt. “It’s not your fault. You, nor anyone there, knew what was about to happen. Terrorists have no regards for the lives of the innocent while doing things that would harm them.”

“Tommy’s hurt but I can tell that he’s strong. I’ve been hurt like that before and I healed up fine. Plus he has even greater care here. They’ll take care of him and you only need to keep your head up and know that Tommy’ll pull through.” He continued. “He’s young so he’ll bounce back well enough to return to his unit. Don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout that.”

“Thanks.” She laugh-cried. “But it’s hard to take you seriously with that mask.” She giggled. 

Ghost huffed. “Well, Tommy pulled some heroics back there saving you. Might even earn a brag rag with the right recommendations…”

Violet’s confused head tilt made him explain the meaning. “It’s a medal.”

Her eyes brightened. “You’d do that?”

He hummed. “Captain Price might put in a good word too, but yeah, he deserves it.”

There was a sudden and somber silence. His hand gripped his knee to prevent it from bouncing. 

“Ah… any plans for uni? Or something…?” Bollocks, how the hell do you talk to a 17 year old girl, who is also your child but doesn’t know it? Improvise… he guessed?

Violet told him that she was debating going to vet school or medical school to become a surgeon like her mother. She wasn’t sure which university she would apply to. 

“Tommy keeps teasing me that I should join him in the army as a field surgeon. But… um, I think I wanna help out people in our community here.” She chuckled softly. “I told him that if he ever got hurt he could come to me to patch him up, but that I’d have to hurt him again for even getting injured in the first place.”

Ghost smiled under his mask. Mask. His mask?

Maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly. Perhaps one too many whacks to the ole head. Or maybe it was the high of meeting his long lost children for the first time. Ghost wasn’t sure what it was…

His hand reached up, curling under the bottom of his balaclava, and pulled the black cloth over his head in one tug. The higher it went, the more his chin, lips, nose, cheeks, eyes, and hair was revealed. 

Violet’s breath hitched as she took his face in. Her eyes roamed over every feature and scars. She knew this face, from the back of her mind she knows that this face is like the one going through surgery right now. Like the one in the frame sitting on her mother’s desk right in front of her. Tears began to burn her eyes but did not fall. Her lip wobbled. 

~~~~~

“Violet, I am your father…” Simon’s eyes stared into hers for a moment before closing tightly. His brows scrunched together and his lips tugged into a fine line. 

“Was t-that a Star Wars reference? Or are you being serious?” Violet asked confused, burning tears finally falling. 

“You’ve seen Star Wars?” Stop deflecting, Simon!

“What?! Don’t change the subject Mr. Simon!” She gasped, her eyes widening. “Mister… Simon. Simon. Simon?”

“Yeah?” He asked, swallowing hard. 

“This doesn’t make sense! I-I must be hallucinating. Maybe, maybe I actually did die or something.” Violet’s voice shook. She closed her eyes and moved her head side to side. There was a subtle shake to her body. “Nope! This is not fucking real! You’re supposed to be dead! Dead, I tell you!”

Oh god, she’s reverting back to her drama club days. 

“Umm… language?” Not the time to reprimand her for her words. “I mean. Sorry. It’s… It’s just a really, really long story. I actually don’t know how I’d tell-“

“Daddy!” Violet sobbed and before Simon could comprehend it, the teenager had her arms wrapped around him as much as she could with his size and body armor. 

The shock in his eyes softened with her continued sobbing. It struck him in his heart. All the walls he’d built since before joining the Task Force began to crumble. Piece by piece, chunks began to disintegrate. His own eyes burned with tears that hadn’t fallen in years. It was almost a relief when they did start to fall. They dropped onto Violet’s shoulder and rolled down her back. 

Simon didn’t know how long they held onto each other for. Hours or days could pass but he would rather still be in the newfound embrace of his daughter. Violet had settled into soft sniffles and little hiccups, eventually falling asleep in his lap. His own tears had dried, for now, leaving streaks down his cheeks. For a moment, it felt peaceful despite the chaos several floors down and a few streets away. His arms tightened around Violet. He wasn’t sure if he could ever let her go… 

His eyes staring off into the wall flashed to the door when it was pushed open. And there she was. 

~~~~~

Dr. Riley sighed as the sound of the EKG flatlining continued. They had initially brought the patient back from cardiac arrest and proceeded with the surgery. However, in the last fifteen minutes he began to show signs of another cardiac episode. The nurses and she had tried their best but unfortunately the patient’s wounds were too much for his body to handle. 

Pulling off her bloody gloves and dumping them into the hazardous waste disposal, she told the nurses to take a breather since they’d been going at it for hours by that point. Hell, her shift had long been over when her daughter and son had arrived but she had stayed. She couldn’t bear leaving while knowing that many people were suffering. She’d seen over a dozen patients when the casualties started pouring in, almost tripling her patient count for the day. 

A quick change of clothes in a designated room and she was walking back to her office. Eerily, the floor her office was on was quiet. There were other busy wards here but the chaos was concentrated downstairs. She heard her crocs squeak on the polished floors. It used to make her blush at the loudness of the sound but now she couldn’t give a fuck. Her patients needed her, damnit!  As if a squeaky shoe would hold her back from reaching her patients on time just because she was embarrassed by the sounds. 

Reaching the door to her office, she noticed that the light was on letting her know that Violet had made it in one piece. 

“Hey, Violet, are you hungry-!” Her eyes widened in mild confusion and concern at what she saw, before glaring slightly. “What the fuck?!”

Her Violet was in the arms of a strange grown man, she been crying, clearly as they stained her cheeks. She nearly lost her top and yelled more before focusing on the man’s features. 

It was like seeing a ghost. 

He said something but it was like cotton balls were stuffed into her ears. Whatever it was she probably needed to see an otolaryngologist. She felt something fall down her face and along her neck and into her clean scrubs. Her vision blurred. She wasn’t sure if it was from tears building up or her body moving quickly in their direction. 

~~~~~

Simon called for her by name. He hadn’t said it in a very long time. It honestly hurt him to. After all, he had left her alone and with his children no less, although he hadn’t known. He’d spent some time thinking about it while holding onto Violet. If he would have stayed had she been able to tell him about them. He would like to think that, yes, he would have stayed, but Simon wasn’t sure if his own insecurities and trauma related to his abusive father would push him from wanting to claim such a responsibility. 

She stared blankly at him. Her dull and tired eyes worried him. He knew she’d had a long and hard day. Simon missed the shine in her eyes from long ago. He was starting to feel strange with her gawking. He shifted in his seat as softly as he could to not disturb Violet. 

The movement seemed to awaken her and gave her the strength to move closer to him. But her knees weakened and Simon had to outstretch an arm in order to catch her. A loud sob fell from her lips. Slightly chapped due to lack of time to care for them that day. The jerkiness of his movement woke up Violet and when she saw her crying mother in the arm of her dad, her tears renewed. 

“Mom!” She tasted salt. The words were taken from her. 

Simon pulled her up into his lap too, before tightening his arms around both of them. Both of his girl’s hands were clutching him equally as tight. They were all breathing heavily and their bodies shook with each sob, with each inhale and exhale. Simon rested his head against theirs. Fingers tangled in their hair. 

After they all calmed down a bit, Simon began to explain what happened all those years ago. What happened to his family, why he left, and that if he had known that he was going to be a parent that he would have taken the time to think things more carefully before doing anything drastic. 

She raised her hand against his stubbled cheek. “It’s not your fault, Simon. I should have told you about the pregnancy sooner. I-I just wanted to surprise you when you came home, but…” 

He knew the ‘but,’ he never came home. Only a news article about a whole family dying in a house fire. Dog tags left to be found hours later. His only living ‘relative’ was his father. 

He needed to stop thinking about his father, who he believes may or may not still be around. But those fears of being like him as an adult presented as usual. It was a constant struggle to let those feelings go. Feelings of inadequacy surfaced and since his face wasn’t covered as usual, it was easier to see by his frown and furrowed brow. 

She recognized that look on his face despite the many years apart. She held his face in her palm. He leaned into it, his own hand coming up to hold hers closer to him. The look in her eyes told him all the reassurances that he craved. 

Violet watched all this in awe. Never would she have thought that she’d be witness to the love between her mother and father. She tucked herself closer to her father’s chest. Violet had grown even more tired after the attack and the crying. Her eyes drooped and a sigh left her lips as she fell asleep. Simon’s arm subconsciously pulled her closer. 

It felt like hours but only thirty minutes had passed before Dr. Riley got restless. She tapped Simon on the shoulder. 

“I should go check if there are any updates on Tommy.” She said and Simon, reluctantly, let her go. “I’ll come back if there’s any news. And I’ll bring you both something to eat. Surprisingly, the cafeteria has a decent sandwich selection.”

Ghost nodded and readjusted his grip on Violet to hold her with both arms. 

“I can have a cot brought in if you want?” She looked lovingly between the two. A soft smile tugged at her lips. 

“Ah… I think I’m fine, for now at least.” His pale cheeks flushed. He just couldn’t let his little girl go. Especially not when she’s sleeping so peacefully in his arms. 

She nodded and left the room. 

During that time, his phone had buzzed and a text from Price glowed back at him. He texted that he had the next few days off and to not come in to work for any reason other than emergencies. 

Simon texted back a simple, “Okay.”

~~~

Dr. Riley returned with food in paper bags and good news. Tommy was in post-op and was being moved to a private room soon. She told Simon that she could take them there. So, Simon stood with Violet in his arms, who surprisingly has not been awoken by the move. His arms were under her knees and back. 

They had arrived before Tommy so Simon took the time to survey the room. It was rather large with a couch on each side of the room. His love told him that they pulled out into beds if they wanted to use them. Simon lowered Violet onto the blue couch, resting her head on the pillow and covering her with the provided gray hospital blanket. 

Thirty minutes later and Tommy was rolled in by a team of nurses. The principle doctor residing over his care began to explain the next steps in Tommy’s recovery. It felt like a lot but Simon was intimately familiar to the process due to his own previous injuries. 

Afterwards, his love was finally able to rest so she sat next to him on the other blue couch. There was distance between them and Simon couldn’t get his body to melt into the soft couch. He could feel her glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. He spied her hand inching towards his. His eyes looked and then looked away. He argued with himself to just grab hers. He finally said ‘fuck it all’ and just wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her whole body closer. 

A soft squeak escaped her lips. He buried his face into her hair and breathed in deeply. It still smelled like her shampoo. She melted into his embrace. 

“Simon?” He hummed. “I don’t know how, but, thank you.”

He looked her in those eyes that kept him awake at night. “Of course.” 

~~~

Two days later… 

~~~

Bleary brown eyes fluttered open. He took several moments to blink away the crust on his eyes. The blindly white room was dark with only a soft amber lamp glowing in the far corner. He felt like his body was stuck to what he was laying on. He looked down and saw white sheets. 

A flash of dark movement caught his eye from one of the pull out beds, fully stretched out and occupied. He shifted his stiff neck to see who or what it was. 

He saw his own eyes. 

Maybe he was dead. After all, he swore he saw his father sitting there by his mother. He tried his hardest but the sedatives won the battle. His tired eyes blinked slowly before finally closing. His breath evening out in slumber. 

Wide brown eyes stared at the monitor. Only relaxing when the machine kept beeping at a constant rate. Then, Simon laid back down and clutched her closer. She sighed and moved closer to him. And damn was he happy in that moment. 

Masterlist

🔖 Taglist:

@sae1kie

[silverzoomies]

silverzoomiezzz hi hi i was eating my cloudberry ice cream and i dont know why i start to think about peter and then i think about you. and i have a question for you. what do you think peter’s fav snacks that he would save it for you because he wanted you to enjoy and love it as much as he does? this is so silly lol but anyway have a great summer <3

💗oh my gosh, hello anon sweetie !! i'm sorry for answering so late !! i hope your summer has been nice !! it's been pretty decent here, aside from the lame ass humidity.🔥🫠🔥

i'm so honored you would think of me, after thinking of our beloved speedy boy. 💗honestly, i take that as such a huge compliment !!

⚡snacks i think peter maximoff would like (he hoards them, cuz he's the snack hoarding type. ty dofp 💗):

⚡in canon, he hoards hostess snack cakes. specifically the chocolatey, cream-filled kind ⚡and twinkies. dude's got twinkies for two movies in a row ⚡like it's no wonder people assume he's a twinkie fiend ⚡we also see him with so much pepsi and mtn dew ⚡and i know it's just product placement obvi. but he does seem like a mtn dew guy, right? i bet he'd love baja blast. code red too ⚡dk if this counts as a snack, but he'd probably love taco bell. i mean, it's fast. it's cheap. it's addictive. it's easy to indulge in. mans would quote those old taco bell commercials with the chihuahua ⚡sour candy. all of it. gummy worms, airhead x-tremes, sour twists, sour patch kids. tell me i'm wrong. i'm not ⚡he'd make a mess with some fun dip, lemme tell ya ⚡any candy they used to give out on halloween? he'd be addicted to all that shit. he'd love sugary junk. he constantly needs his fix. laffy taffy, nerds, now and laters, skittles, pop rocks, m&m's - you name it, he's into it ⚡imagine the dorito fingers, anon. the cheeto fingers. the takis fingers. do y'all think he'd be more into regular cheetos, or hot cheetos? he reads as a hot cheetos guy to me ⚡he'd slam some icees. slurpees. any kinda syrupy, frozen drink. he mixes all the flavors, sucks it down, and feels no brain freeze ⚡if you took him to carnivals, boardwalks, or amusement parks; he'd put the funnel cake stands out of business ⚡sweets are his kryptonite, really ⚡i personally like to imagine he knows his fair share of international snacks too. since he can zip around the world in a blink. taiyaki. baklava. conchas. tres leches. pirozhki. european chocolate. any and all kinds of street food. he knows all the best 7-eleven instant ramen - and the best toppings for 'em too ⚡i think he'd also go hog wild over a really good steak, y'know? or some barbecue. some ribs. some brisket. all the shmeats !!

⚡snacks i think peter maximoff would save, just so he could share them with you💗:

⚡he wouldn't ⚡correction: he couldn't ⚡c'mon, do you honestly think he'd have the self control? ⚡you're asking him to do the impossible ⚡see, anon, he'd think about saving a yummy treat for you ⚡keyword being think ⚡like, just as he starts to realize he's crushing on you big time ⚡he's guzzling something tasty, when he has the thought: hey...wait a sec! you'd probably really like this!! ⚡but a second later, the treat's already gone. devoured in an instant. whoops! oh well!! ⚡he's just way too impulsive to save anything ⚡like it would have to be out of sight, out of mind ⚡or you'd have to pick from his own, secret stash ⚡because otherwise, he can't hold himself back. he'll gorge any snacks in the nearest vicinity ⚡he'd legit have to wait 'til you were both together. in that moment. if you had a few minutes. he'd be like, "hey. babe. babe. babe. babe. i got somethin' i wanna show you." ⚡he speeds you away for some mind-blowingly good street food, in some country you've never been to, nor heard of ⚡even on valentine's day. he has to snag you one of those heart-shaped boxes of chocolates last minute ⚡that, or he has to hide it from himself. if he doesn't, he'll be lookin' down at an empty box - chocolate all over the corners of his mouth - like "ah, shit."

[hallow-weeni]

Poorly describing favorite shows of mine in order to summon ppl from fandoms I'm in!!!

(Answers will be in the tags, shows are listed in no specific order)

1.) Halloween Obsessed kids

2.) A psychotic rabbit and a possibly also insane dog are police officers while being borderline gay for eachother

3.) A dog afraid of everything despite his name implying the oppisite

4.) Girl sent to alternate dimension where she meets an anarchist witch and a skull dog thing

5.) Some guy, Some girl and a dog work at a spooky wooky park and protect it from demons and angels.

6.) Twins save town from talking dorito

7.) Depressed guy fights earworm, goes bowling and contacts his dead friend while accidentally summoning a demon.

8.) Man climbs tower, Hilarity ensues!

9.) Complete idiot with an imaginary old man who's role in the show is like a fucked up jimminy cricket, he tries to prevent the idiot from causing complete destruction, keyword tries.

10.) S P O N G E M A N

11.) A phone with a chris mclean voice for ONLY THE FIRST EPISODE hosts a game show.

12.) A number and a x hosts a game show.

13.) Burger king hosts a game show

14.) An alarm clock hosts a game show... With LORE!

15.) Creatures that wanna make you smile

16.) 10 episodes of these two little weird dudes making creatures with the goal of helping people while off duty cop guy talks to a dead military guy claiming to be an angel.

17.) Some kid with hair that looks like a broom working at a shop wanting to become a hero working alongside a ninja and some sorta alien while protecting the shop from these robot box things, Lore ensues.

18.) Depressed jester experiences existential dread.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Don't knock it till you try it

Masterlist

Pairing: Syverson x reader x Walter Marshall (technically college AU. I needed to make the road trip scenario plausible.)

Summary: Your friends Walter and Sy have offered to drive you home for the summer, and you have decided to turn it into a nice relaxed camping trip on the way...

Word count: 9146 (yes, really...)

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (vaginal, anal - f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex (vaginal, anal, DP - f receiving), masturbation (f), smug and dirty talking Sy, sex in a tent, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), silly bets, and an astonishingly solid bromance. I think that's all, but call me if I missed any.

A/N: I've finally really stopped hurting the boys and now we're just going for some nice relaxed sex in a goddamn tent, dammit! Also yeah I'm going to keep imagining the boys in college until the day I die, I don't know why (maybe because I'm young), but just... idk, read it as a memory or something? idk :')

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

You were not – by a long shot – the first girl to see the backseat of the beat-up chevy pickup you were sitting in. Fact. A fact so factual, in fact, that Sy hadn’t complained when you demanded he put a blanket down for you to sit on, which told you more than you really wanted to know.

Now, your eyes kept drifting shut to the sound of tires on asphalt and the bickering of soothing baritone voices in the front seat. The outside world consisted of mountain views and clear blue skies, and the fresh breeze of early summer that worked just hard enough to raise goosebumps on skin, but inside this rusty old vehicle the atmosphere was dominated by two pairs of broad shoulders, deep voices, and what you always mockingly referred to as ‘disgusting man sweat’ – always hoping neither of them would ever find out how often you dreamt of licking those salty droplets off their abs after a workout.

Both of them had shown up, first semester, in a class they didn’t have a prayer of passing, and you’d been teamed up with them because of what you then thought to be a hideous trick of fate. Somehow, you whipping them into shape for that tutorial hadn’t put them off you, and what started as whatever the educational equivalent of ‘frenemies’ is, turned into study buddies and eventually friends. The only downside to your friendship was that you chronically had to explain to your entire dorm that, no, you weren’t sleeping with either of them – let alone both of them.

As you still toed the line between asleep and awake, a heavy hand on your knee – belonging to Walter – made a decision for you in favor of consciousness.

“We’re hungry,” he said.

“You’re always hungry,” you grumbled as you reached for the bag of food and snacks on the other side of the backseat. It was a good thing they didn’t bother to deny it, because you would have strangled them both. God forbid you ever left a bag of Doritos out in your dorm. Seconds! Gone!

Sy had the stones to ask for a tuna sandwich. Absolutely the fuck not!

“I’m not opening that bag in this car, Sy.” It already smelled like stale beer and weed in there. Not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’re not allowed to smoke on campus, so this is our only option’ way. That said, adding tuna to the mix would be a complete disaster.

“Suit yourself,” he snapped. You rolled your eyes. For the love of God, it was all of ten minutes past feeding time! Walter snickered as he held out a hand. Turkey on wheat for Walter, BLT for Sy, mozzarella pesto for you. You’d splurged on groceries, because the boys had offered to take the lion’s share of the drive.

“We were thinkin’ of callin’ it a day soon, sugar.” They’d had morning classes, and you were falling asleep while on snack-duty… Plus, you’d agreed to just take it easy the whole drive. It was summer; there was no need to rush home.

Sy pulled off the highway, quickly ending the smooth, rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, until the asphalt finally made way for the crackling of gravel. Without Sy, you never would have found the campsite at which you pulled over. Camping ran through that guy’s veins, as you could tell from the impressive amount of camping gear in the bed of the pickup – all his.

Even though he helped you get out of the truck, you still lost your footing and stumbled into him, leaving Walter grinning to the side of the spectacle, commenting on your horrible clumsiness.

“Dunno,” Sy replied with a sly smile. “Guess she’s just fallin’ for me.” The cheesy joke made Walter stop dead in his tracks.

“I think that’s twenty-five,” he deadpanned, looking at you. In a less-than-sober state, somewhere in the past year, you had made a deal: if either of them managed to make that joke twenty-five times before the end of the year, you’d… Alright, let the records show that when you made that bet, you had been entirely convinced they’d never take you up on the offer to let them kiss you. But they had.

“You’re not gonna hold me to what I said back then, are you?” you asked in a small voice, your cheeks so hot you could probably fry an egg on them. The door of the truck slammed shut behind you, and Sy slowly stepped forward, forcing you to step back, until you were backed up against the truck, with him leaning over you – completely caged in between his solid body and the car.

“Deal’s a deal, sugar.” There was no trace of his usual grin, no hint of the mischievous glint in his eyes that normally told you he was kidding. He just came closer and closer as your eyes went wide – Walter did nothing. Jackass.

Not that kissing Sy was something you didn’t want. Oh no! In fact, it was something a fairly large part of you wanted so badly you thought you might burst. On some days, being close to either of them – let alone both – was torture, where your heart raced every time they came near you, and you unconsciously held your breath when they touched you… And while the guys just freely admitted to having sex dreams about you, you kept the little nugget of truth that you had similar dreams about them, tightly under wraps. Not because you thought they’d tease you about it, or anything, just… No, wait, actually that’s exactly why you didn’t tell them.

A few more seconds passed in which your heart tried its best to jump out of your chest.

“This isn’t funny, Sy,” you snapped on a sharp exhale when his mouth curled at the corners into that signature smirk you loved to hate. Finally able to gather your thoughts as well as your strength, you put your hands on his chest and pushed. It was a good thing he let you go, because if he had decided to stay put, you wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell.

“I want my kiss, sugar,” he called after you as you paced away to… alright, you didn’t actually know where you were going, but away, at least. “One way or another.”

As pissed – or confused – as you were, this was ‘the outdoors’ and therefore absolutely not the type of environment you were well equipped for in any kind of way, thus you decided it was best to stay close – within earshot, at least – to the boys. But they could take care of unpacking and pitching tents and whatever the fuck else needed doing.

“Hey.” Sy sat down next to you on the rock you had claimed, and put an arm around you. This was oddly comfortable, especially compared to the tense situation by the car, earlier. “I was messin’ with ya back there, you know that, right?” Whether it was to make a point, or simply because Walter wasn’t watching – or maybe because the threatening wall of man from before was now your familiar gentle giant again, you had no idea, but you impulsively reached for Sy and kissed him on the cheek. A low chuckle escaped him, and he pulled you closer.

“There’s a trail up to a waterfall we maybe wanted to check out, you in? Easy hike.” The good thing about hanging out with the guys was that they really considered your level of… adventurous ineptitude. If they suggested this hike, it meant they were at least medium convinced you could actually make it there and back in one piece – or that they could make it at least halfway with you on their backs.

The hike led up to a beautiful, clear river, and a spectacular waterfall. Between the smell of the woods, the sun comfortably warm on your skin, and the phenomenal view, this hike had been more than worth it – never mind that you were all sticky and sweaty from trying to keep up with the guys and their superhuman pace.

“On the way back, can we please remember that I have little legs?” you complained as you sank down onto the rock at the river bank the boys had selected to eat yet another sandwich on. Sy hummed, finally contently munching on the tuna sandwich you’d denied him in the car, and Walter laughed. You sat in silence while your friends ate their food, which meant the rock inevitably became too boring for your limited attention span.

What started off as a relatively sure-footed expedition over the rocks that stuck out of the water, inevitably ended with your very accurate portrayal of a soaking wet person regretting most – if not all – of their life choices. Sy sighed and rolled his eyes as he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, taking his sweet time to get up and make his way over to you to fish you out of the water – which he then called ‘refreshing’ instead of ‘freezing fucking cold’. That didn’t improve your mood. Next, Walter had to dive for your phone – which, luckily, could swim, but was still going to be next to useless to you at the bottom of this far-deeper-than-anticipated vein of icy death.

Shivering, covered in goosebumps and with chattering teeth, you stood on the bank of the river.

“Take your shirt off,” Walter commanded, plucking his own off the dry rock.

“What?” you stammered, staring at him in disbelief. Now, that alone would have been just fine, if your eyes hadn’t dropped from his face to his chest. Small droplets of water dripped from his hair and beard onto his shoulders and chest and… somehow trickled down his body in slow motion. If they knew how much willpower it took to lift your eyes to his again, they would never let you live it down. Sy repeated his words from a distance – there went your excuse that Walter had just been talking too softly. Sy was still up to his knees in the river, unbothered by the cold, just hanging out there as if that water didn’t rival the fucking arctic ocean for temperature.

As you looked at him, he started to walk back to the riverside. The sun was starting to set, changing the light in a way that made it look like Sy, much like those fucking drops of water, was moving in slow motion, flecks of sunlight dancing over his skin… These guys were distracting enough when they were dry and dressed, but now that they were wet and half naked, with damp, coarse curls sticking to their chest and abs, catching the water that dripped down from their heads… These boys were fucking with your head. Big time.

“Sugar, take off your shirt, please,” Sy repeated when he stood next to you. “You’re freezin’, let’s get you a dry t-shirt, at least.” Oh. So, they weren’t putting the moves on you. Good to know. Hopefully, your exasperated sigh didn’t give away any of the disappointment you felt. With a little help from Walter, you lifted your soaking top over your head, not caring that they saw you in your bra until it was already too late. Sy used his t-shirt to dry you off a bit, before handing you Walter’s to put on. The whole time, they kept their eyes in decent places, and their hands didn’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. Now, why did that make you feel sad?

“We should head back,” Walter said – mostly to Sy. The sun disappeared rather quickly, and without the heat from it, that dry t-shirt – save for the two tit-shaped wet spots where your soaked bra touched it – didn’t do much to keep you warm.

By the time you made it back to the campsite, you were shivering again. The walk had done next to nothing to warm you, and your still wet jean shorts chafed painfully against your thighs. Not to mention your thighs were starting to chafe painfully against your thighs. So, the first thing you did was disappear into the tiny single tent that was meant for you – as you had made it abundantly clear that sharing a tent with the boys was out of the question – and change into something dry, warm, and comfortable. The guys did the same, although – as it turns out – their version of ‘warm’ included no shirts. Did they ever get cold?

It was tough enough to keep your eyes off Sy in cargo shorts – although Walter in jeans was just as much of a sight for sore eyes – but now that it was getting dark, the sweats came out to play. You silently thanked Walter for his choice of black sweatpants, because keeping your thoughts out of the gutter was hard enough already. Sy was shamelessly sporting a pair of grey sweats, filling them out just about as nicely as humanly possible as he sat there, getting a fire started. The sly glances and that godforsaken smirk he flung your way from time to time told you that he was more than aware that you were checking him out.

The heat from the fire alone wasn’t enough to warm you up. Sy’s solution was tequila – which helped, but not quite enough, so Walter wrapped you in a blanket, pulling you close to his side as he ran his hands over your arms in an attempt to stop your shivering. At the same time, Sy inched closer, and before you knew it, four arms were wrapped around you.

Apart from being hot, proverbially, these guys were hot in the literal sense, too, warming you up slightly more effectively than the blanket around your shoulders and moderate amount of alcohol in your system. Still, the icy temperatures from the ground you were sitting on seeped into you without mercy. Of course, the boys took notice, both getting the same idea, and each grabbing one of your legs to try and pull you into their respective laps. Needless to say; it didn’t work, and you just ended up with spread legs, sitting between them on the floor. Sy had that twinkle in his eye, that smirk on his face that was dripping with confidence and indecency… You had to get out of there before he could speak!

As you scrambled to your feet, mumbling something about getting another blanket for yourself to sit on, you tripped and fell into Walter’s lap. Of course! You had been keeping score on that bet as well, and you knew you had come here – fucking camping – with both of the guys stuck on twenty-four counts of the same lame fucking joke… This was your fault, really.

To your surprise, however, Walter said nothing – instead, he smiled politely, pulling you into a more comfortable position in his lap.

“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, although you had absolutely no idea why. Maybe because it was the truth, maybe because you just wanted this bet to be over. Either way, it hurt you that he didn’t make the dumb joke, and asked to collect his reward the way Sy had. Hoping to get up before Walter looked into your eyes – where your thoughts were no doubt displayed for everyone to see – you made a move that was entirely too advanced for your mediocre balance and agility, and you crashed down again, this time falling harder than before. As Walter grunted, panic shot through you…

“Darling, I’d ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven, but so far the only person who got hurt in that process, is me,” he blurted out in a strangled voice, while Sy was losing it next to you, howling from laughter.

Was it the booze? The fire? The tension from this afternoon? The fact that you were sitting in his lap, with his hands maybe a tad too low on your hips, but high enough to not rouse suspicion? Or maybe just your complete lack of self-control? Whatever it was, it caused you to move to straddle his thighs, and without thinking about it for so much as a second, you kissed him. If you’d had a sliver of hope before that Walter would break the kiss after an at least semi-decent amount of time, it was gone now, because the hand on your hip pulled you tighter against him, and his other hand tangled in your hair.

Walter kissed you. It took far more effort than you had ever expected to really let that sink in, but at the same time there was no way around it. He was kissing you, and it was eager, and rough, accompanied by ragged breaths and the occasional moan. It managed to make you forget everything around you. Everything except for Sy – mainly because he let out a pained grunt just as you were about to stick your tongue down Walter’s throat.

“I got a kiss on the cheek, man,” he groaned as he leaned in slightly on one elbow.

Now, if you had been thinking clearly, you would have laughed it off, gotten up and gone to bed. Safe to say, you were not thinking clearly.

Sy’s mouth felt just as good on yours as Walter’s had, with similarly soft lips, a similarly coarse beard scraping your skin, and a similar roughness to him that only wound you tighter. You moaned, your hips unconsciously grinding into Walter’s, his growing hard-on providing extra friction to soothe the ache between your legs. When you briefly opened your eyes to see if Sy was as involved in this as you were, you saw him palm his own erection through his sweats – casually adjusting its position before focusing on you again. In that moment – timed perfectly with a moan from Walter – something inside of you snapped.

“I’m going to bed,” you stuttered as you broke the kiss with Sy, at the same time scrambling to get to your feet – this time succeeding without falling into anyone, and making it to your own tent without a hitch. ‘

Now, if it had been a sober conversation, and it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere without a sound to be heard for miles other than crickets, the occasional owl, and the crackling of the fire, at least half of it would have been inaudible from where you had pitched your tents. But the boys were too drunk, and their voices too deep and dark – the sound just traveled too far. You could have ignored them. You could have turned around, pulled your sleeping bag over your ears, and pretended to be asleep until it became the truth. Instead, you listened, sometimes straining to understand what they were saying.

“So, who do we say got her first?”

“I’m asking for a do-over.”

“Because it was me?”

“We could just… Y’know…”

“Think she’d go for it?”

“What, both of us? My ex did…”

“But she was nuts.”

“Hey! Okay, fair enough.”

Both of them? Both of them? As in… Separately? Or… Oh, what the fuck did it matter! The answer was yes.

What surprised you most about your thoughts was how completely unsurprised you were by them. Somehow, the idea of sleeping with both Sy and Walter felt as natural as could be, and left you not only stumped, but with another problem that needed tending to…

Without thinking, you slid your hand down your body, and into your sweatpants. Kissing the boys had definitely had its effect on you, you had known that as soon as it had happened, but the extent of the mess between your thighs was still quite surprising. Somehow, tasting both of them, followed by your eavesdropping, had made you dripping wet and craving something more than just your fingers. Unfortunately, they’d have to do.

You thought of that first kiss with Walter, then the one with Sy, then wondered what it would feel like to have those beards scratch the skin of your neck, slowly making their way down to your chest. Would they lick? Bite? Moan? You pictured Sy, eagerly making his way further down, while Walter kept his attention on your chest. Would he be as quiet as he always was? Was Sy as loud as you imagined him to be?

There were so many things to wonder about, besides the obvious size question, that the thoughts consumed you completely as you worked yourself up to your peak. So completely, in fact, that you didn’t hear the guys return to the tents – just as you squealed from pleasure while you came. Hard.

“Fuck, sugar,” Sy said from outside. Walter warned him to stop talking, but he didn’t listen. “Tell me if you want any help.”

It was tempting to say ‘yes’. It was tempting to crawl into that tent and tell them you had heard everything they said by the fire. It was tempting to offer yourself up on a silver platter, hoping they’d make good on their promises from before by fucking the life out of you. But things that are tempting can also still be difficult, so you did nothing. Well, nothing… If ‘dying of embarrassment’ counts as ‘something’, you were definitely not doing nothing.

The sound of your own teeth chattering prevented you from falling asleep, even though you could hardly keep your eyes open. And who knew goosebumps could hurt like this? The boys had warned you beforehand that it would get cold at night, and you’d even told Sy what you had planned on wearing as pajamas, and he’d said you’d be good. Well, you weren’t good. You were covered from head to toe, and you were not – by any definition of the word – ‘good’.

As hard and painful as it was to just lay there and freeze, it was harder to get up, worm your double-socked feet into your sneakers and get out of your tent. Outside, it was pitch black, and the dim light of your phone was barely enough to prevent you from falling flat on your face. You had to credit the boys with their incredible foresight to keep the path from your tent to theirs free of tripping hazards – something you were so delighted in at that moment that you forgot to question whether or not there was some sort of ploy, or whatever in place. Lewd scheme or not, you were glad to make it without a hitch.

“Eh, guys?” you whispered after zipping open the tent and poking your head in.

“Hm? What?” It was Walter – and from Sy’s continued snoring, you deduced that you shouldn’t wait for him to answer; he wasn’t waking up.

“I’m really fucking cold,” you admitted reluctantly. That seemed to wake Walter up a little more…

“Cold? You could go on an expedition to the north pole dressed the way you are!” The sleep-drunk slur of his voice was… adorable, in a way. To his left – no, his right… To his left from where you were standing? The left side of the air-mattress they were on when you looked at it, standing at the foot of the bed, the right side if you were actually lying in… oh for fuck’s sake! Next to him, Sy groaned and turned – although you couldn’t see any of that, because it was very dark.

“The fuck is going on?” he grunted, his voice gravelly and dark – which did a good job of making your knees weak.

“She’s cold,” Walter replied dryly.

“There’s no way,” Sy said in disbelief, “she’s dressed for winter in Alaska.”

“If you two are done mocking me, I’m actually freezing my ass off out here. Do you have an extra blanket or something?” you snapped.

“Sugar, we’re not even wearin’ shirts,” Sy said, his voice steadier now that he was waking up.

“Great, so you put on a shirt, and I’ll take your sleeping bag.” It was a shame they couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but the snippy tone would surely get your point across.

“Or you could just come here, love,” Walter said all of a sudden. There was rustling in the tent and then a dim red light over your heads turned on.

“Interesting choice…” you started, but Walter and Sy chuckled.

“It’s easier on your eyes, sugar.” Shit, Sy was easy on your eyes, god damn. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the way he casually lounged on that fucking mattress right now, with that arm behind his head, eyes half shut…

Walter was sitting up, holding a hand out to you, waiting patiently until you had zipped open the door further – which took so long that he ended up helping you with it. As you got in, he got out, and for a moment you were scared he would offer to leave you with Sy while he took your tent, but after a while he returned holding your backpack and sleeping bag.

The bed was a bit small for the three of you, especially since the guys were so bulky, but you managed to make it work. The only thing was… shivering in between them was hardly more comfortable than shivering by yourself, and now there wasn’t enough space to curl up into a ball and hope for the best.

“Sugar, stop squirmin’, c’mere.” Sy’s strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, when up until now you’d been trying desperately not to touch either of them. “Alright, I take it back, she is freezin’.” A gesture to Walter you could feel but not see, made him scooch over, too, until his body was flush against yours.

Your heart raced in your throat when warm hands slipped underneath your hoodie, stroking your side and – eventually – your stomach. Somewhere down the line, you forgot how to breathe properly, taking in shallow breaths, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice. Of course, they did, because they were inches away from you.

“You should take this off, sugar,” Sy mumbled into your ear. Every muscle in your body tensed up at the suggestion, and it felt like the air was knocked out of your lungs.

“C-can’t,” you stammered, “I’m not… eh… I’m not wearing a bra.”

“Fairly sure we’ve seen a pair of tits before, love,” Walter replied, right at the time Sy muttered ‘neither are we’, making you laugh. Somehow, all of this seemed innocent – or rather; you were convincing yourself it felt innocent, and any subtext and undertones were a figment of your imagination, instead, when in fact, it was far more likely that it was exactly the other way around…

“Not mine,” you protested, biting your lip as a third hand, belonging to Walter, began to roam your back.

“We’re aware of that,” Sy said, his voice dangerously close to your ear. His breath was hot against your cold skin – a sensation that made you shiver.

“In fact, we try not to think about it. It makes us sad,” Walter said, leaning his forehead against yours, sliding his hand down your back and then up your side until his thumb was less than an inch away from the underside of your boobs.

For a moment, the thought that this was just a tactic to actually warm you up flashed through your head, because – in all fairness – it was working. Every part of you was suddenly glowing, breath quick and ragged in anticipation of whatever it was that would come next. What surprised you, though, was how calm they both seemed. Then again, they had already – unknowingly – admitted to having done this before. If that was where this was headed, which you still didn’t quite know for sure… It was as if the guys were both waiting for something. Waiting for… you.

Your lips trembled as you tilted your head up, Walter taking your hint and pressing his lips to yours. Sy pushed your hair out of the way and latched on to your neck. Neither of them went straight to groping you – not more than they had been up until now – but it was only a matter of time before you felt Walter’s hand creep up to your chest. He broke your kiss, his eyes silently asking for permission, which you gave him with the flash of a smile and a slight nod, gasping when his fingers brushed past your nipple. Despite the rising temperatures in the tent – even though most of that was likely just your imagination – the difference between your skin and Walter’s was striking, and you moaned when his warm hand cupped your breast.

Sy was less subtle by about a million degrees, boldly grabbing as much of your other boob as humanly possible – and he had big hands, so you quickly ran out of tit for him to dig his fingers into.

“Can you take it easy,” you blurted out as you laughed in surprise at his – as far as you were concerned – unwarranted enthusiasm.

“Darlin’, I’ve been dreamin’ of these tits for weeks, throw a man a bone.” He groaned when you backed a hip into him the same way you would have if he had been standing next to you.

“Looks like you’re the one throwing me a bone, Syverson,” you teased when you felt his cock push against your ass. It was a horrible joke; Walter laughed, Sy did not – possibly because he was the one on the receiving end of your mockery. Instead, you heard a low, arrogant chuckle in your ear, that told you exactly how he wasn’t going to give you the upper hand.

“I ain’t throwin’ you nothin’, sugar,” he growled, putting a hand on your hip, gripping you tight. “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Promises, promises.” Teasing the boys was fun when you were studying, because you very clearly had a head start in that department, and they would get frustrated, and it was very cute. But now, sandwiched between their bodies, gone was your head start. Any advantage you had over them, in any other way, was useless here. The worst part? They fucking knew it. It was as if they grew bigger and you got smaller, and you were loving every second of it.

Suddenly, the hands underneath your sweater grew impatient, tugging the fabric up until there was no point in keeping it on. Rough hands turned you on your back, which left you staring up at both guys while they raked their eyes over your naked upper body. The knowledge that they were far from unaffected by you graced you with a sense of pride that helped keep doubts and shyness away as you reveled in their attention and the appreciative grunts and moans they let out as they looked at you.

“Fuck,” Walter muttered, licking his lips, completely focused on your bare skin. He scooched closer to you, grinding his hips into your side as he did, and turned your face to his to kiss you.

It was as eager as before, this time with Sy descending, pressing his lips to your neck, exceeding every expectation you had created in your fantasy from before; their lips were softer, their tongues wetter, and the way the coarse hair felt on your skin better than anything you could ever imagine. You whined and squirmed as their hands glided over your body, paying plenty of attention to your boobs, their fingers treating the soft flesh in remarkably similar ways. After a while, they switched places; Sy kissed you, Walter explored your body, making you gasp into Sy’s mouth as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently on the hardened little bud while his fingers worked the other.

Eventually, he came back up to kiss you, a situation Sy took advantage of by diving straight back between your boobs, this time sliding his hand down your stomach and into your sweatpants – which is when you grabbed his wrist.

“Stop.” Stern and very effective – not that you were about to give the boys any credit for not assaulting you; that sounded like common fucking decency to you, actually. “Before this goes any further; did either of you, with your infinite wisdom and incredible foresight, pack condoms? Because if not…” Before you finished that sentence, both of them sat up and reached for their bag, leaving you there, taken aback by… You didn’t actually know what had you so shocked about this.

Sy made it back to your side first, tucking a handful of condoms beneath his pillow before laying down again. “Oral?” he asked. It was only half the question, but you understood perfectly. You quickly established that everyone was clean, making the short answer to his half-question ‘without’. Sy responded to that agreement by promptly sliding his hand into your pants, not wasting any more time. His fingers slipped between your folds, and he let out a low chuckle.

“For a moment I was worried you didn’t want this as much as we do,” he growled in your ear. “Guess I was wrong.” One quick, skilled swirl of his finger around your swollen clit made you whine – a sound he clearly found very motivational, because his fingers picked up a steady rhythm. You tried to hide your face in Walter’s neck to cover up the sound of your moans, but he caught you and kissed you instead.

Sy somehow found the time to kiss your neck, your jaw, your ear – sinking his teeth into you ever so slightly, stopping just before he hurt you – while he continued what he was doing. His fingers were absolute magic, making you swear under your breath as he effortlessly slipped two of them inside you. Next, he kissed his way down again, not stopping at your breasts, but continuing over your abs, until he reached your sweatpants, pulling them down eagerly without waiting for your permission. Of course, he had it – and you’d had plenty of time to stop him while he was headed there. It’s just that… That was about the very last thing you wanted.

Next to you, Walter kept busy pressing lazy kisses to your neck and jaw, occasionally pulling away to look at you, while he held you and played with your boobs. A few times you tried to move your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, but he stopped you every time.

“Would you just...”

“Darling, been there, done that. You’ll be useless to me within seconds.” He nodded towards Sy, who was taking a moment to find a decent position between your legs. You raised your eyebrow at Walter, questioning his words, but he didn’t budge. “I’m gonna wait my turn, love.”

“I know this one,” Sy said, running his fingers over the fabric of your thong. You chuckled – he was right; he’d barged into your room one night while you were changing into whatever you were going to wear out to the club, and he’d seen you in your underwear. This underwear. He took his sweet time taking it off, teasing you with kisses on the inside of your thighs, his beard rough against your sensitive skin, until you were almost begging him to keep going. Finally, he pulled your panties down.

“You were right,” he said to Walter, leaving you to wonder what the fuck… “It is her natural hair color.” Oh. You fought the urge to kick Sy – instead, you lightly squeezed your thighs shut around his head. It didn’t seem to bother him. Quite the opposite, in fact.  

The urge disappeared altogether when you – finally – felt his tongue on your pussy. He wasn’t subtle, but damn, he was good. Walter had absolutely had a point; barely ten seconds in and you couldn’t keep your eyes open, let alone focus on anything other than the feeling of Sy’s tongue on your clit. He impatiently spread your legs further while mumbling some very dirty things about how much he wanted to taste you. Involuntarily, you chuckled – causing both guys to stop what they were doing and looking at you in suspicion. Lying was pointless; they knew you well enough by now to effortlessly see through that, and you sighed.

“I… eh…” you stammered, unable to find the words.

“Come on,” Walter said, “if you’ve still got things to hide from us now…” He was right, of course, this wasn’t a position you’d have found yourself in at all if you hadn’t been so comfortable with – and hot for – these guys. Then again, you were already exposed and vulnerable… Why make that worse?

You hid your face in Walter’s neck as you just said what was on your mind without thinking about it: “I always imagined you to be the quiet one and Sy the loud one.”

“Always?” Sy teased you. His usual cocky attitude transferred seemly to the bedroom – or… tent – as it would seem. Except now, for once, you had a decent shot at shutting him the fuck up – although you did have a feeling you were going to like his smug confidence for a change. Sy had been growing out his buzzcut for a few weeks now, which made his hair just about long enough to grab – a fact you used to your advantage when you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back to where you wanted it.

“That’s just going to make it harder to answer the question, darling,” Walter muttered next to you while drawing circles around your nipples with impatient fingers.

“Fuck!” you shrieked as Sy’s tongue hit your clit just right – a note he took to heart, because he didn’t leave that spot again, leaving you wishing that all men were that smart. Because why – for the love of God – did they always change their approach as soon as they found a spot you let them know you really liked? Right… The question at hand… “You really thought it was just the two of you dreaming about me?” They had to be smart enough to figure out what you meant on their own, right? The flustered look on Walter’s face told you enough, as did the deep chuckle and gentle bite on the inside of your thigh.

Apparently fed up with your conversation, Sy doubled down on his efforts, eating you out like a man starved, more chuckles escaping him as he watched you pull his pillow over your face in an attempt to keep quiet. ‘Attempt’ because you still failed quite horribly when he pushed two fingers into your pussy and curled them, finding your g-spot without any effort. The orgasm that followed was the kind of toe-curling, earth-shattering, life-changing thing that made you really mad at yourself for one particular reason…

“Jesus fucking Christ, I should have taken you up on your offer when my useless ex broke up with me,” you moaned as Sy made his way up again, pulling in the pillow that you had haphazardly thrown aside – after you were done screaming­, that is – so you could catch your breath. Sy immediately pulled you on top of him, kissing you hard and deep, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. It was something that had always made you feel weird and – if you were being perfectly honest – mildly disgusted when it had been your ex doing it, but there was something about the way Sy had gone down on you, and the way he was kissing you now, something unapologetic, passionate, and enthusiastic, that made you want to kiss him.

In fact, you were just about to commit to the bit when someone – and that someone had to be Walter – grabbed you by your hips and dragged you back until you were on your knees. You tried to lie down again as you heard him rummage around, looking for something – the obvious, really. The smack on your ass made you shriek in surprise, only making you slightly worried that either sound would have been audible well outside the tent.

“Stay there,” Walter’s husky voice commanded. “My turn.” Maybe he was the quiet one, but when he did speak… Oh my! You didn’t dare to move a muscle, leaving you sitting there, exposed as you heard the pretty familiar crinkling of foil. Shortly after, you felt the tip of Walter’s cock glide along the length of your slit. He teased you for a moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing into you. Sy laughed as your eyes went wide, and he grabbed your hand, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. Jackass. As soon as you got a good sense of what he was equipped with, you squealed. Not with any particular emotion in mind, just… Right now, you didn’t know what to think. In fact, Walter was well on his way to at least semi-permanently turning the whole thinking-function of your brain off.

“You alright, love?” Walter asked as he slowly pushed further into you.

“So far so good,” you moaned, “but I hope you’re running out of dick, because I’m running out of places to put it.” Cue roaring laughter from both guys…

“If you ever wonder why we love you,” Sy said, his sentence interrupted by more laughter, “that, right there. That’s why.”

You wanted to respond to that, you really did, but Walter pulling out of you already left you breathless, meaning all you could do was gasp when he slammed back into you. You’d never pictured either of them to be gentle. Concerned for your comfort, sure, but not tender. You’d been right. Luckily, gentle lovemaking was very low on your list of priorities in this particular situation – or ever – which meant you reveled in the brutish attention you got and soon found yourself wanting to beg Walter to fuck you harder.

Sy, as vocal as he’d been before, turned out to also be a champion in impatiently nudging your hand, vaguely suggesting he wanted you to do something, and for a moment it felt like you were about to regain some control of the situation, but no… He was also not above manhandling you into a position where your face hovered over his crotch, and taking his dick out himself once he got really fed up with your stalling. With your eyes wide, you looked at him – something he enjoyed for a moment before tapping the tip of his cock to your lips.

“Don’t make me ask, Sugar,” he growled. As much as you wanted to protest and act out, with Walter fucking the attitude out of you, there was nothing you could do but open your mouth and carefully wrapping your lips around him. The chuckle you let out as Sy grunted appreciatively when you swirled your tongue around his cock was interrupted by your own moan when Walter did… whatever it was that he did to cause it.

Slowly but surely, you made your way further down Sy’s dick, until a particularly violent thrust from Walter threw you off, accidentally forcing Sy deeper than you could handle. Choking and sputtering, you moved away from Sy, only scared for a moment that he’d be disappointed, but he had a different reaction – similar to Walter’s: checking to see if you were okay. Again, you were not in the habit of handing out bonus points for normal behavior, but it was nice, regardless.

“I’m fine,” you said between ragged breaths. “Note to self: deepthroating while getting railed from behind; bad idea.” The guys laughed, and as soon as you’d caught your breath, you joined them.

“There’s one way we all get attention without any risk of choking,” Sy mentioned casually, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively. Yes, you knew what he meant instantly, but… both of them? At the same time? All it took to convince you to at least give it a try was Walter slipping out of you, leaving you empty and nowhere near sated. One of Sy’s sly glances was a question to Walter, who ‘hmmph’-ed. You didn’t like the sound of that, per se, and looked over your shoulder to see what he was on about.

“Definitely depends,” he said, taking your lack of an immediate ‘absolutely the fuck not’-reaction as a sign you were considering it. And he was correct in that interpretation of the situation. “There’s a time and place for first time anal, and this is not it.” That was a sentiment you could absolutely get behind. Luckily, it didn’t matter, because it was hardly applicable. You assured the guys you had plenty of experience in that area.

Another potential spanner in the works that Sy mentioned, was the lack of lube. Somehow, Walter surprised you by mentioning you should have some with you – you did, but how did he know that?

“You use it to keep your hair from going frizzy,” he deadpanned. You looked at him as if you’d seen a ghost, while Sy looked at you as if you’d gone completely nuts.

“What?” you said, turning to Sy again. “It works!” With one hand, you reached for the strap of your backpack, pulling it towards you so you could look for the bottle. It was just under half full, but that should be enough…

Walter wasn’t stingy with the stuff, which was a good thing. There were few things more annoying to you than continuously having to tell a guy to use more lube. One, then two, then three fingers disappeared into you without a hitch, and although the fourth was a nice reminder that you had to relax, that went over without too much trouble as well. Somehow, somewhere in your mind, the fact that Walter seemed to know exactly what he was doing irked you – it was completely hypocritical of you, for obvious reasons, but right now the thought of him with anyone else made you mad.

The boys laughed when you voiced the absurd thought, and Sy didn’t neglect to point out that they hadn’t been too happy about several of the ‘scum’ (yes, really) you’d gotten together with in the time they’d known you. It was a weird thing to be joking about with two of your closest friends while one of them had several fingers stuck up your ass, but at the same time it felt very natural and on-brand for your relationship with the guys.

You whined when Walter pulled his fingers out, making Sy chuckle in a way you didn’t like at all.

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” he suggested with a smug grin on his face that only widened when you told him you were definitely not going to do that. “Why not, sugar?”

Fuck, he was making good on that promise from before. Now, of course, you could convince yourself that begging for cock was beneath you, and you weren’t going to do it, but that would leave you – relatively – unfucked, which was… not desirable, to say the least. Or you could admit to yourself and them how much you wanted both of them inside of you, and have a great time.

Somehow, the red light that no one had bothered to turn off – luckily, as everything you had been doing so far would have been more or less impossible in the dark – already made the tent feel like… a brothel, quite frankly, you put your doubts aside and looked at Sy.

“We’re not going to sleep, because you’re not done fucking me,” you said, giving him your best bedroom eyes. Sy seemed impressed at first, but his eyes flitted to Walter and…

A strong hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you up until your back hit Walter’s chest. His arm reached around, grabbing you by your throat – lightly, almost as if to ask for permission, but demanding.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice dark and gravelly. Down on the air mattress, Sy smirked up at you, making it painfully obvious that you wouldn’t get out of this, no matter how hard you tried. You quickly scanned your brain for all your options, sadly coming up completely empty. No matter which way you sliced it, they were going to come out on top.

“I want you to fuck me,” you snapped, “both of you.” A sarcastic chuckle behind you and Sy shaking his head as he looked up at you told you that that wasn’t good enough. After a deep breath, your voice softened as you spoke again, finally saying the word they wanted to hear: “Please.”

For a long, dull moment all you really heard was the sound of two more condoms being unwrapped, and the top of the bottle of lube clicking. Then, Sy pulled you towards him. As soon as you felt his tip at your entrance, you sat down, fighting the urge to slap him when he threw a smirk and that godforsaken horrible wink your way. Under normal circumstances you considered yourself very well versed in resisting that desire, but today… He laughed when your palm landed lightly on his cheek and thrust up into you for good measure, making you squeal and fall over. Luckily, he caught you just in time.

Just as you wanted to sit up again, Walter put a hand on your back. Right. In that little moment of silliness, you’d almost forgotten what the endgame was, but now that you felt Walter’s cock pushing against your ass…

“Keep talking to us, okay?” Sy whispered softly as he saw your expression change. He cupped your cheek, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “Breathe.” You took his advice immediately – no doubt a nice change of pace for him, as he was used to your stubbornness at this point – taking a few deep breaths. It wasn’t until the third or fourth one that Walter moved, slowly pushing into you. Keeping your eyes open was absolutely impossible, the sensation of both of them filling you up at the same time too much to even really wrap your head around. “Sugar, you okay?”

“Uhuh.” You nodded, showcasing your current full extent of your ability to answer. When Walter moved, you swore under your breath – when they both moved you hid your face in Sy’s neck and let out a loud moan, followed by an out-of-breath ‘fuck yes’, and that was all the confirmation they needed.

They established a rhythm suspiciously quickly, pumping in and out of you in sync. Yeah. They’d definitely done this before. As you pushed the thought away and focused on the incredible sensations of their cocks moving inside of you, their eager – and mostly greedy – hands on your hips, shoulders, ass, thighs, and tits, you felt a familiar pressure inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you blurted out – and the boys seemed more than happy to oblige. With one little disclaimer…

“Make it quick, love… Not gonna last,” Walter grunted, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips. It hurt, causing you to swat at his hand, which made him relax his grip a bit. Judging from Sy’s rapid breaths and a concentrated look on his face that gave away just how much difficulty he was having with keeping his rhythm steady, he was getting pretty damn close, too. In fact, pretty much the second their thrusts dragged you over the edge, both of them grit their teeth and gave in to their own pleasure, growling profanities as they came.

The boys were nice enough to handle most of the cleanup for you – which was, given that you were camping, largely a matter of wet wipes, which was definitely not even close to the shower you would have loved to take right about now. And you couldn’t really appreciate Sy’s joke about a lovely, refreshing river near where you were, either.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you yawned, turning around in the middle of the bed, wrapping your sleeping bag tightly around your shoulders. It didn’t take the guys long to join you, and soon you were sandwiched between them again, strong arms wrapped around you – clearly not planning on letting go anytime soon.

Walter pressed his lips to your shoulder and let out a low chuckle. “Still cold, darling?”

The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed, in a tent that was already slightly warmer than comfortable, with just your sleeping bag on it. The guys had somehow already managed to worm theirs into the tiny little bags they came in, and all without waking you. Then again, it was safe to say that by now they’d proven themselves to be experts in the field of putting pretty big things in relatively tiny places…

For a moment, you wondered if you should feel weird about getting up and going outside, seeing the guys, but something about the whole thing felt so oddly natural that you didn’t give it a second thought.

“Mornin’, sugar,” Sy said as he held out some coffee to you when you joined him on the ground by the fire, where you’d spent the start of last night, as well. The two of you called Walter over, who was just about done putting your tent – the one that had been meant to be yours, anyway – away. He tossed the bag into the bed of the truck as if it weighed nothing – and maybe it indeed didn’t, you wouldn’t know, because you hadn’t touched the entire thing – and made his way over to you, gratefully taking the other cup of coffee Sy had poured.

You knew better than to try striking up a conversation with either of them before they’d finished their morning coffee – it was so bad that whenever you had classes together in the mornings, you showed up there with two double espressos for them and a latte for you, because if you didn’t do that, they’d just grouch and snap at you all the way through the first half of class.

It was all the more surprising, then, when Sy suddenly asked Walter a very unexpected question: “Have you ever kissed a dude?” The answer was no, he hadn’t - to which followed an even more surprising question: “Ever wanted to try it?”

The casual energy of the shrug with which Walter answered that question was absolutely unmatched by anything you had ever seen, and you stared at the guys, wide-eyed as they leaned in until their lips touched. It wasn’t just a quick peck, either! No, there was tongue involved in this… And by the end of it?

“Eh,” Walter said, “not for me.” Sy agreed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, completely taken aback by the unexpectedness of what had just happened. “What? You can’t just… Stick your tongue down your friend’s throat and then casually decide… What?”

“Hey,” Sy said, his tone still infuriatingly indifferent, “don’t knock it till you try it.”

[brockitty-goober]

antigravity rises

(disclaimer: this is a Funny Haha Post that should not be taken seriously, I support your dorito x old man yaoi /gen)

[peri-helia]

Take it easy with me, please

In lieu of the New Year drabble I haven't finished, here is a Joe x Nicky slice of life drabble where the title inexplicably comes from ABBA. Taken from this prompt list: cooking together

“I love you more than life itself, but fuck off”

Joe snorted on a laugh, a hand coming up to cover one of Nicky’s that is cradling his face. It’s a line he’s heard from his beloved’s mouth so many times before. He remembers it from the first argument, proper argument, that they’d had since they’d become lovers. And so many others since. Probably none more than this.

“But I want to help” he insists.

Nicky’s lovely eyes kindle warmly, mouth ticking up in one corner the way it does when he’s trying not to laugh. Joe knows no map better than he does Nicolo di Genova’s face.

“I know you do, hayati. And I love you for that. But this,” Nicky gestures behind them, “is not what one would call helping”

Joe plays along, mouth dropping into an enquiring ‘o’, eyebrows raising. “What would ‘one’ call it, tesoro?”

“Getting in my fucking way”

Joe can’t hold back anymore, he ruptures into laughter. Abandons the pots and pans he'd been starting to wash to pull Nicky into a soapy kiss. They both get lost in it a little, while the others are in the other room. They pull at each other, hair and shirts. Nicky bites at Joe’s plush lower lip, the way he’s wont to. Joe’s hands slip under Nicky’s t-shirt, the hem pulled free from the constricting ties of his apron up to press at Nicky’s shoulder blades, leave marks that will fade a split second after they’re made.

Nicolo is a tolerant man but if there is one thing he cannot stand, it is someone trying to help him cook.

Joe pulls away first, delighting in the way Nicky chases his mouth, at having made him forget the holds of life, beyond love and desire. Many a pot has bubbled over because of Joe and he holds each time a personal success.

“Should I disappear from your sight?” Joe asks with a contented sigh, patting Nicky on the chest, smoothing a non-existent rumple from the fabric of his t-shirt.

Nicky smiles, that gorgeous, rakish grin that Joe loves best. “Another hour would be perfect”

When Nicky is in the kitchen, it is to be himself, his ingredients and the battered old radio crooning terrible love songs The rest of them are expected to involve themselves only if they want a glass of water or to have a spoon shoved under their nose to check the seasoning.

“I’ll just-“ Joe reaches over to the corner of the worktop, where his hoodie sits beside the eggs and the other groceries not yet put away, “get out of your way”

He winces when he hears the tiny crackle of the bag of Doritos under the fabric, even as he carefully off-sets the weight of the jar of salsa in the right hand inner pocket. Joe was so the wrong person for this job. He knew he should have gone with paper over scissors. 

He’d be sent to do recon, because they were, with all the love in the world, starving. Another hour. Quynh already had Domino’s on speed dial. It’s not that they won’t eat what Nicky’s so lovingly cooking – he always relishes his turn to cook – especially now that they are all together once more. They will savour it. It’s just that like so many things with immortality; their healing, refractory periods, hair growth – they burn a lot of calories and coming back to life is hungry work. They put Hobbits to shame with the size of their second breakfasts and elevenses. Brunch as well as lunch, supper after dinner.

Hence the crisps and dip. Nile had pleaded. Begged.

Joe holds his breath as he looks up from under his lashes at Nicky. His beloved is singing away under his breath, swaying his shoulders as he bangs the wooden spoon on the lip of the saucepan.

He gathers the hoodie tighter, to stop the bag falling out by a loose corner. Another treacherous crinkle of the paper. Fuck. What did they make these bags of anyway?

Turning as nonchalantly as he can, Joe starts to walk towards the door. Then, as it comes over the radio he sings along, "Take your time, make it slow"

Nicky remains, a smile slipping over his face as he stands by the stove, as he too sings along under his breath. Joe can barely believe it when he gets away with it, slipping out and just as casually pushing the kitchen door to before haring up the rickety stairs as quickly as his feet can carry him.

“Make your fingers soft and light,” Nicky huffs on a laugh as he stirs the casserole, listening to Yusuf make off with ill-gotten gains, reaching into the pocket of his apron. “Let your body be the velvet of the night,” the half eaten brownie he’d cut from the tray is a little squashed from being in his pocket when Joe embraced him, but Nicky wouldn’t have it any other way. “Touch my soul, you know how” he warbles, savouring the gooey chocolate, “Andante, Andante Andante, Andante, go slowly with me now”  

[gay-dorito-dust]

♥️💙 I thought this is cute but Please request like this kinda a prologue but the day when Gabriel was born, Miguel is holding his son for the first time and thanking shyreader for giving him a chance being a father. https://www.tumblr.com/gay-dorito-dust/719858448136896512/would-you-be-willing-please-to-write-a-miguel-x

When Miguel caught wind that you were going into labour, nothing else mattered in that moment to him other then being there with you to welcome the new life you both had a hand in creating.

Lyla had never seen this man move as fast as he did upon hearing the news that it almost replicated how he reacted when you told him that you were expecting; worried, scared, frightful, all of which hid the underlying excitement and happiness that he felt. And if she was being honest? It was defiantly a welcomed change to the usual brooding, solemn, isolated male she was use to, and she had you to thank for that.

Not only does Lyla thank you for coming into Miguel’s life when he needed someone with a gentle touch, but also for bringing back life and optimism into Miguel’s life. She may take the piss out of him now and then but she only did so in hopes of helping him lighten up from loosing…everything.

‘Want to hold your baby?’ You asked Miguel, looking up from admiring the bundle of joy that was fast asleep in your arms, his tiny hands gripping onto you tightly.

‘Are you sure? I don’t want-‘

‘You won’t hurt him,’ you cut him off to sooth his worries, ‘you could never hurt our Gabriel. He’s as tough as his daddy, or so I’m told.’

Miguel visibly perked at this. ‘Gabriel.’ He repeated the name that came out of his mouth as a whisper filled with fondness with a hint of bittersweetness for the past long gone. ‘Yeah, I named him Gabriel, in honour of Gabriella, I know how special she was to you and I wanted to keep her memory alive in anyway I could.’ You told him, unsure as to how he would react to your reasoning behind it but you didn’t expect to see tears streaming down his face.

Naturally you assumed his tears were a result of you reopening his old wounds, you tried to raise a hand to wipe away his tears without waking up Gabriel, ‘I’m sorry sweetheart, I can change the name of it’s too much, I didn’t meant for you to cry.’ You rambled on but were cut off when Miguel held your hand to his cheek, pressing a flurry of kisses into your palm, whispering praises into your skin. ‘Don’t apologise my beloved.’ He reassured you, letting go of your hand so it could go back to cradling Gabriel as Miguel rested his forehead against yours, purring softly, which never failed in drawing a smile on your face as you felt yourself physically relax into him when you knew that Miguel wasn’t upset.

‘I’m just incredibly thankful for you for blessing me with the opportunity to be a father.’ Miguel told you before pressing another flurry of kisses into your forehead. ‘You deserve this Miguel, you deserve to live the life you’ve always wanted, to live the life as a father to our baby boy who very much would like to be held by you.’ You told him as you gently passed the small bundle over to Miguel, who held him snug against his chest as he looked down at his son with so much love and affection that it almost made you cry just looking at him.

Miguel could immediately tell apart which features Gabriel had inherited from you and the ones he inherited from him by the way his chubby little hand was reaching out to grasp at something; only to make little noises of disgruntlement when he couldn’t latch onto anything but air. ‘Daddy’s here Gabriel, I’m right here, I’ll always be right here, there’s no need to get stressed.’ Miguel cooed as he managed to free a hand to stroke his son’s warm chubby chipmunk cheeks, chuckling to himself when he saw how quick Gabriel was to latch a hand onto his pointer finger. Gabriel’s grasp was a strong one that Miguel knew he wouldn’t be surprised if his son had inherited some of his spider-abilities.

‘You and your mother are both blessings to me, I hope you know that Gabriel and just know that for you and your mother, I’d do anything to keep you both safe…I can’t afford to loose you both…I’d loose my mind if I did. So I’m sorry if I come off as overprotective but just know it comes from a good place.’ Miguel states as he looked over at you when he felt you head rest against his bicep; only to see that you were fast asleep. A smile broke out of Miguel’s face as he leaned over to press another kiss to your forehead. ‘Thank you for all your hard work in bringing about our baby boy, now it’s time for you to rest and to let me take care of you both because that’s what a father does; protects his family.’

[gushalperswife]

Hoi-hoi! I recently got a new hyperfix on Hobie Brown and wanted to ask you if you could write me something with reader who is really similar to Hobie(same beliefs, piercings and makes most of their clothes/things themself)? And then they meet through kids(Pav, Gwen, Miles?) and mb add smut with Hobie if you're ok with it (if not I'll appreciate something romantic 👉👈)

Please and thank you, love your works <3

A/N: SAY LESSSS

Paring: Hobie brown x Punk!spiderperson!Reader

Warning:

Genre: fluff

" You have to meet them! They are just like you " Pav yelled at hobie, hands on his shoulders, " Only difference is that they play the drums and they have 3 nose peirceings " pav said putting his hands on his sides. " Listen pav, ive never met a single bloke like me. Its just not possible " hobie said witha sniker and he put his hands in his pockets. Pav sighed dramatically and followed him

Pav saw you and grabbed hobie and immediately dragged him to you. " You. I have soneone thats just like you but diffrent in a way " pav said as hobie stood up as straight ad he normally does and looked you up and down. " hey " he said. You looked at him and smirked " hey " they said softly and nodded.

Hobie started to walk away but pav grabbed his shirt and pulled him back " Talk! Go become freinds! " pav said. You and hobie walked away and talked. " So are you in a band? " he asked you. " mhm. You? " you responded. He nodded. " what instrument " you ask. " electric guitar, you? " He asked. " drums " you said. Yall find a bench and sit down.

You look elsewhere but hobies eyes are on you. You were like the mona lisa in his eyes. You were stunning. (to him) most people found you scary in your universe but here? Hell no. How would he find you scary if your the most Gorgeous person he has ever seen in his lifetime. In his 19 years old liveing he had never seen anyone that was like him, like you. He didnt notice you were stareing at him untill you spoke, " Put your eyes back in their sockets " you smirk with a slight laugh. Hr snapps out his tance and lets out a soft laugh " Sorry mate " he said, " Its good dont worry about it " you smile.

Your smile. Oh my goddess its like he fell in love, head over combat boots even. He loved it so much. It just suit you so well. " You have a nice smile " he said and you blushed slightly " and you have a nice face " you said with a giggle. " Really? You like my face " he said with a soft laugh " yes i do. " you smile and boop his nose. You get up and stretch " I love talking to you but gotta go, Dorito man said i have to go his little room thing " you said. You then wrote down on a peice of paper and gace it to him. " Bye! " you smile and leave

He reads the paper

This is my number, cal me! ***-***-***

He puts the paper in his pocket and thinks that today might have been an okay day