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tinytennisskirt · 3 months ago

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Tease

summary: a poorly written horny montage of Patrick’s crush on you and how he uses sexual urges to mask the fact he’s completely head over heels for you

warnings: teasing, unprotected sex, mention of oral f!receiving, kissing, kissing Art onceee one timeee, a slight moment of misreading but it’s not actually misreadingggg

Oh Patrick is insane when he has a crush on you. Absolutely insane, he turns himself into this stupid fucking dick of a jock when you’re around during practice, playing to impress you as if his tennis swing will make you fall into his lap, his bed…

He balances the innocence of his crush on you with the idea of you on your knees and he can’t help but wonder what you feel like. And it’s only to combat the feeling that he wants to take you out on a real date, do stupid shit with you like take walks and watch rom-coms and kiss the tears off your face when you’re crying over some animal video you saw online. His method is effective but nothing ever beats the idea of you being his best friend and girlfriend all in one. Nothing beats the idea of coming home to you at the end of a day. He’s turning into some wholesome freak and it’s scaring him.

When you’re talking he hears every word you say but with a slight echo because he’s busy wondering when it’s appropriate to kiss you between sentences. You’re his friend, you’ll meet him after class but in his head it’s terrifying and completely thrilling that you want to spend time with him. Usually he’d be cocky about it but with you he feels like he’s 13 with a schoolboy crush the way you reduce his stomach to butterflies. A schoolgirl crush maybe.

And when you’re with him on the bleachers and your hand rests on his knee he wonders about how your hand would feel wrapped around him and he can’t help it, it’s the only thing he can do to keep from telling you that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and to combat the idea that he wants to wake up next to you for the rest of his life because he’s just that sure that you’re it. It’s going to be you.

Art knows Patrick has a problem. At the mention of your name his neck snaps to pay attention, even after his own name was called about ten times. Art just chuckles. “You’re going to have to tell her sooner or later. Pretty sure she’s got you figured out, bud.”

And yes, you have an inkling that he likes you but the extent of which you have no idea. He has no idea that when his hands slip down his boxers at night while he reminds himself of how perfect you are, your hand makes it’s own way down your stomach and breaks your waistband, thinking about him too.

You’d never say it. The crush he has is something you like to play around with. It’s fun to make a twenty-year-old man blush.

Art and Patrick invite you to pregame a party and you show up with a case of twisted tea and a miniskirt with (thank god) shorts built in but the presence of your perfect thighs in his line of sight, of course you notice how he zones out on your body. Of course his eyes linger on your hips, your thighs, your chest, it’s what keeps him from thinking about how gorgeous your smile is and how much he wants to see it between kisses, in between breaths.

Then there’s the day you show up to tennis in a halter top and even Art is a little distracted by the low cut. The other girls practicing on the court all want to know where you got it because it held the girls sooo well during practice. Patrick missed almost every ball you hit at him. He tried. You smirked and you were so so pretty as you cheered at all the extra points that came from distracting him.

The flirting was occasionally physical. Patrick sometimes allowed himself the grace of a hand on your back when you were next to him and you didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t exactly flirting but it sure felt like it.

Patrick is a pretty physical guy altogether, his spatial awareness not great but also partially something unintentional. So when his face gets close to yours in conversation, you never bat an eye. But you do bat your eyelashes and listen to him forget what he was going to say or begin to stumble over his words. It always feels a little emasculating, but Patrick loves it, surprisingly. You turn him into something weak. Nobody has ever done that to him before.

You in your short skirts and low cut shirts and you with your perfect body making it absolutely impossible to avoid looking at you, but helping so much to distract from the fact you’re kind and sweet and completely perfect. The need to run his hands over your waist, hips, and ass is the perfect distraction from the want to kiss your cheek, nose, and forehead. Fuck!

It’s so fun to drink with him and call him pretty with his face so close to yours you can smell the fizz of the orange soda he mixed with his vodka. Fun to smirk and rest your finger under his chin and talk to him with your noses practically touching. Fun to sit on his lap just because it’s ‘comfortable’ and feel him struggle to hide the fact he’s hard. He’s looking at Art for help but Art knows it’s not true misery- he’s doing Patrick a favour.

Having Patrick in your dorm room late at night and you’re in these short, loose pajama shorts that show off your ass and bending to pick up your laundry off the floor. Watching his jaw slack just a little and seeing him scramble to pretend he was looking elsewhere. He’s a mess over you, going home and jerking himself off to all the dirty imagery you’ve given him just by being around him. He’s breathing hard by the end of it and he’s completely spent and he’s been home ten minutes having come three fucking times.

Going to a diner with Patrick and Art and both boys are all-too focused on the way you eat the strawberry from the side of your milkshake. You blink, looking at them both as they act as if they were staring at the menu.

The second the boys are alone back at Art’s dorm Patrick is gushing. “You see what she does? It’s like it’s on purpose.”

“No, I- I definitely see that,” Art says. “She’s always like that? Even when it’s just you two?”

“Always. She wears the least amount of clothes possible, she’s touching… me, she’s got this smirk, this sly one- I think she’s trying to kill me.”

Art agrees and admits that he can see what Patrick sees in you aside from the fact you act a bit like a slut when he’s around. But Art has observed you in other settings and you’re no slut in general. The second Patrick is home his hand is down his boxers thinking about how it’s all for him, seeing the intention through your actions.

And the next time you’re with him you’re in another short skirt and crop top as well as one of Patrick’s big zip up hoodies on and he’s trying to look past how it feels to see you sit so pretty in his clothes. His crush is absolutely massive and unfortunately so is his dick, so hard that it hurts, as he imagines fucking you right there right then. That short skirt bunching around your waist as you bounce on his cock… the idea of it is all too much.

You move closer to him and you ask him a question but he’s not hearing it. He’s too focused on the fact you’re not wearing a bra under your tank top. Your pointer finger taps under his chin and his face is so close to yours. He answers your question, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips and that beautiful smirk spreads up your face again. He looks half drunk on you, his eyes so half-lidded. He’s imagining his fingers in your mouth instead of thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.

His crush is driving him insane and he would have kissed you if he didn’t have to go meet Art in ten minutes. He knows you know he likes you. You know he knows you like him and the second he’s gone you’re on your bed with your hand down your underwear because there’s nothing more fun than the game you’re playing with him but the game doesn’t get you what you need. Not yet.

“I want to fuck her so bad,” Patrick confesses to Art over his beer. “It’s not even funny anymore.”

“I’m with you,” Art says after hearing the whole story. “I mean I would… I would be the same way.”

“You think she wants me too?” He asked. He hated sounding like he had a nerdy crush on some popular girl. “I mean- fuck, honestly. I’m going to lose my mind over her.”

Art just nods in agreement.

Getting high with Art and Patrick near midnight and you’re outside on the grass on a blanket of yours and you’re in one of Patrick’s t-shirts because you don’t want yours to smell like marijuana. The shirt is a saving grace when you stand but when you sit and your thighs are on display the way they are, both boys are finding themselves a bit stuck on where else to look. Patrick having an especially hard time as you’ve draped your legs across his, the back of your upper thigh the part resting against his dick. He’s too aware of it as you shift just slightly, pressing more against him and he has to not make any noise.

You look at Patrick and ask him gently what’s wrong? He’s all flushed. You ask if it’s from the weed and if he needs water or a snack or something but he could truly not be high enough. He’s staring at your lips, how full they are, how sweet they’d be to kiss and how fulfilling it would be to kiss down your chest, your stomach, between your legs. Art can sense the tension from across the blanket so he suggests something stupid, a plan to fix things up a bit. He proposes truth or dare.

You laugh because you haven’t played it in years but you agree and so does Patrick and Art opens it up with Patrick. Patrick goes for truth and Art asks him something simple. “How many times do you jerk off in a day?”

You giggled and Patrick groaned just a little. His answer was three. Usually. You weren’t surprised and you nudged him just a little bit, teasing him for his answer. Patrick then asks you and you say dare. He then dares you to finish the rest of the bowl Art had packed. You do so.

It goes around again twice until it’s Art asking you. Truth or dare?

You pick dare and this time Art plays true wingman. Or tries to. He’s so sure of himself. “I dare you… to kiss one of us.” He says. He’s SO sure you’ll take this chance to kiss Patrick, who you’re draped across and leaning against. But you don’t, you move over him and crawl to where Art is, kissing him gently. Art is more than surprised but Patrick is just staring at you, going over that decision of yours. You chose to kiss Art instead of him… it should have hurt. But it didn’t. Instead it just existed alongside every other fantasy he’d had of you. And you ask Patrick now, pulling away from Art who is wide-eyed and frankly impressed by how well you kiss, truth or dare?

Patrick says dare and he is met with, “I dare you…To kiss me.” It’s an order and it’s a dare and you’re giggling like it’s the funniest thing in the world but it’s all he’s been able to think about since he met you and you were asking…

Art is grinning. It’s the outcome he’s been waiting for. And you’re waiting. “No.” He says. “Sorry, I’m not- I won’t-“ he says. Or he tries to say he can’t kiss you here, not JUST because of a dare. He wants to kiss you when HE wants to. Your eyes are wide and you sit cross legged, looking a bit paler than you should.

“I’m sorry,” you say, immediately straightening out. Your hand goes up to cover your mouth but it doesn’t get all the way up. All of your teasing, all of the fun you’d been having with him, and you finally tried to close a gap to be met with refusal. “I’m sorry, Partrick. That was too much.”

Patrick looks at you and your big genuine eyes and he wishes he didn’t stop himself but some stupid part of him, although he wanted you on top of him nearly every night, although the image of you in your pajama shorts were burned into your mind as a permanent form of motivation for masturbation, even though he thought day in and day out about pleasing you, he wouldn’t kiss you. Not for fun. Not without intention. Because at the base of all of this he did like you. A lot. He couldn’t find the words…

His lack of response is what provokes your further mortification. And suddenly you’re doubting everything you knew. Did he like you? Why wouldn’t he? You thought for sure he would. “I’m so sorry, I’m going to go,” you say.

Art shakes his head, “It’s fine, you can stay.” He says in Patrick’s silence. But you’d kissed Art now and not Patrick and one would have been meaningless and the other meaningful but it was all a stupid game anyway and you had just made a major mistake. An even bigger mistake than you knew it was.

“I have class tomorrow anyway,” you say kindly, pulling your shorts down just a bit further for more coverage. “I’m really sorry. Both of you. I’ll talk to you guys soon.” The embarrassment is crushing and Patrick isn’t saying anything and now you’re stuck with some stupid consequences on your back. This was what you got for being a supposed tease, you thought as you grabbed your things. You should have been more clear on how Patrick felt before you asked him to do something like that. He didn’t want to kiss you. You misread him?

“No, really, don’t go,” Art says. “Please.” And he makes eye contact with you in a way that sends a message, which gestures you to Patrick.

Patrick looks at you. “Come here.”

You move back toward him. The game is over. This is him, this is not his dare. And he kisses you before you can wonder what it is he wants. It’s a good kiss. It’s long and it’s more tender than you’d have imagined from him. And when it ends and you both pull away, Art is nowhere to be found.

Your eyes meet his, his eyes meet yours and it’s only a matter of minutes before you’re pressed against the door of your dorm room trying to unlock it while Patrick’s mouth trails over your jaw and neck with so much haste you’d think he was on a timer. You manage to open the door and you’re stumbling in loudly, kissing and slamming the door behind you. Nothing mattered aside from him in this moment as your shorts made their way off of your body. Patrick didn’t even try to remove your shirt as he took off his own clothes. You could feel him hard against you as he pressed your body to his.

You’re giggling between kisses, slightly high, like something is funny. His hands on your jaw as you walk backward toward your own bed. You wanted to tease him for months on end, you wanted to give him something to want so he was going to show you just how fucking badly he wanted it. In seconds your hand finds purpose as it slips down his shorts and finds his dick. It’s all he’s wanted (aside from taking you out to a really nice meal) and he groans loudly as your hand grips him. “Fuck, I want you so badly,” he says against your lips and you just grin, stroking him up and down and in two seconds his shorts and boxers are down and you’re on your knees next to your bed and as your hands work his shaft, your lips gently kiss his tip and he wants so much to push your head down but he swears he isn’t that kind of guy.

You’re so gorgeous, your lips wrapped around his dick but he can’t sit and watch it happen, he needs you now and you know it as he taps under your chin and you eagerly stand to kiss him again, his leaking cock pressed against the space between the end of your third and your bare thigh. Patrick can barely take it, there’s been so much he’s thought about and you’re kissing him like you need it and the second the words, “fuck me,” fall from your lips he’s on the task. He almost ripped your underwear off you, the lust of it all gets the best of him and he’s on the bed, long arms ridding you of your underwear and his hand dipping between your thighs. You’re so wet, it’s all for him, he’s always wondered how affected you were by him. In seconds he’s positioned and in one thrust he’s inside you.

It’s almost violent how rough he is. He’s already lifted your leg over his shoulder and he’s fucking into you harder than he even knew he could and you’re moaning in his ear and it’s all he’s wanted for far too fucking long. “God- you feel so good.” He groans, hand gripping the flesh of your thigh as it rests against his shoulder. Your hand is tangled in his curls, pulling ever so slightly. This was for every time you bent over in a short skirt, this was for every time you sat on his lap, this was for every time you gave him that sly smirk. And you could feel all of it, all of him as he pounded into you mercilessly. “Fuck…”

You’re moaning his name just how he imagined it and it feels almost pornographic the way he’s getting exactly what he wants. But your nails are digging into the skin of his back and you’re enjoying it too, so he’s happy you’re happy and it’s all perfect. “Harder,” you plead and you’re breathing hard, moaning his name louder as he does exactly what you say. He hates feeling his orgasm approaching he doesn’t want to waste this perfect situation. “Fuck, I’m so close, I’m so close-“ he manages. You kiss him and it’s harsh and a little sloppy but it’s the fact he’s rapidly and roughly thrusting into you that makes it a bit difficult. Patrick leans away from just for a moment to see you better and, “God, you’re so beautiful,” slips out of his mouth and you’re kissing him again. “I’m so close-“

“Uh huh?” You smirk and it’s gorgeous and it’s evil.

“Oh, fuck, I’m-,” he couldn’t get the full sentence out, skin against skin harder than before, harder than anything and you’re moaning as he finishes into you just as hard. Your hands slide over his skin and back into his hair and he kisses you as his orgasm is dying down into just heavy breathing and a slight sheen of sweat. You’re smiling like something is funny and without the thrusting Patrick takes the chance to kiss you again, you giggling between every breath and cupping his face sweetly like he didn’t just fuck you into the mattress.

“Say you’ll-“ he’s interrupted by a kiss. “Go out with me.” Patrick says, cat out of the bag whoops he fucked you turns out he really fucking likes you. “Go out with me.”

“When?” You ask. He’s not expecting that answer. He grins and kisses you again, hard, passionately. And you’re giggling again and you’re adorable and he hasn’t even pulled out yet.

“Tomorrow,” he answers. Still breathing hard.

“Perfect.” You grin so widely. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and he’s finally letting himself feel the wholesome side to wanting you. He cleans you up, which he’s never done for anyone, but cleaning ends up with his head between your thighs just to finish the job and another tied end is Patrick no longer has to wonder how you taste.

He doesn’t tell Art about any of it.

And he picks you up the next day and you’re gorgeous and your skirt is mid-thigh and as fun as it was, Patrick likes being able to talk to you without having to worry too much about staring at anything the wrong way. It was fun to tease but it’s more fun when the date is over and you’re feeling euphoric over the way he looks at you and his smile and how his hands slide around your waist before he pulls you into a kiss. There’s no reason to tease anymore. He’s right where you want him. And Patrick has no need to want anymore, he has too, in all the ways he could possibly need. He kisses you and it feels right. Sweet.

Sure, a few hours later he’s back in your bed but it’s only after the longest conversation of your life. Apparently, Patrick has kissed Art too and it’s something you laugh about for far too long. Without anything to want he’s no longer able to distract himself from just how perfect you are. He kisses your forehead when he says goodnight and all is well. Ask anyone though, Patrick is absolutely insane about his girlfriend.

#challengers #patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers x reader #challengers fic #tinytennisskirt #patrick zweig challengers #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig fluff #patrick zweig smut

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

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Pool Party (One Shot)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: SMUT with a lack of plot, huge age gap

Words: 3,656

Notes: In this fic, Ruby is 19 years old. Tommy is in his mid-forties and married to Lizzie which, of course, does not prevent him from having some fun here and there.

It was a sunny afternoon and, just like most weekends these days, you spent the day with your best friend Ruby Shelby.

Unlike you, Ruby was rather wealthy after becoming involved in her father’s company, Shelby Company Limited, and, even though she was working only on the legitimate side of the business, everyone in the Birmingham area knew that Shelby Company Limited had, in the past, been funded through drug money and pay-offs.

In the past, these pay offs and drug deals were facilitated by the Peaky Blinders, a gang involved in organised crime and run by no other than Thomas Shelby, being Ruby’s father himself.

He was a bad man and even though you knew about his criminal past, you somehow felt attracted to him. He was handsome and rather intimidating which was something that, in itself, turned you on quite a lot.

He was the kind of man you knew you could never have and, of course, being attracted to your friend’s father was somewhat taboo and forbidden, making it even more interesting for you.

You knew that you wanted to have him, just that once. You wanted him to take you and make you his and it was this very same Sunday afternoon that you took a shot at this very famous Birmingham gangster when making your way into his office unannounced.

His wife Elizabeth was around and so were most of the maids, which meant that you had to be quiet.

Ruby was busy by the pool with some other friends and you excused yourself, pretending that you needed a rest.

Ten minutes later…

When you walked into Tommy’s office a few minutes after leaving the pool, you were surprised to find it empty. The door had been unlocked but there was no sight of the man you had hoped to see.

He had disappeared and, after taking a quick look at the golden clock sticking out from above the door, you decided to wait.

You waited for ten minutes at least until, suddenly, you were startled by a bang.

The door opened and then shut again loudly, causing you to jump and turn around.

“Mr Shelby” you gasped but he did not appear to be amused.

“Can I help you or have you found what you were looking for?” was what he asked, thinking that you were spying on him or looking for something that could hurt him and his family.

“Uhm, I have actually” you stammered before approaching him slowly but he still seemed to be on guard.

“And what may that be, eh?” he asked before reaching for your wrist, trying to see what you were holding on to.

“You” you responded quickly while opening your hand, revealing the red velvet lipstick you had taken from Ruby’s room and put on for him.

“Me?” your friend’s father then asked while the lipstick dropped to the floor. “And what do you want from me?” Tommy then went on to ask while letting go of your wrist.

“Just you” you stammered again and, even though you were wearing a shiny silk bikini that was clearly gaining his attention by now, you did not feel confident enough to tell him that, ideally, you wanted him to bend you over his desk and fuck you. He was just too intimidating for you to say such a thing.

“You need to be a bit more specific Love” Tommy chuckled, causing you to nod nervously while still avoiding the question.

“What is it that you want me to do for you?” he then asked again, this time more impatiently than before and it was obvious to you that, by this point, he was getting rather frustrated with the lack response you gave him.

“I…uhm…” you thus stammered before, suddenly, blurting it out. “I want you to fuck me, Mr Shelby” you told him while turning rather red in the face and blushing heavily with embarrassment.

“You want me to fuck you?” Tommy asked after his chin had dropped and, whilst you being in his office in a bathing suit should have been an obvious indication for him, the fact that you were his daughter’s friend alleviated that assumption.

“Yes” you confirmed and, just as you did, a thousand thoughts went through Tommy’s mind, most of which were logical reasons as to why he should not be engaging in sex with you. And yet, the more he looked at you in this silken bikini, the more those logical thoughts took a back seat to the desire rising within him.

“How old are you?” he nonetheless ought to clarify and your reaction to his question surprised you.

“Old enough” you told him firmly, causing him to cock an eyebrow.

“Twenty” you then told him, seeing that, again, he was getting a little frustrated while yet, unbeknownst to you, his cock was rock-hard and throbbing, begging for release.

“Twenty, eh?” Tommy smirked before turning around and, just when you thought that he would leave you standing there like a fool, right in the middle of his office, wearing nothing but your bathers, he locked the door.

“What are you doing?” you asked, smiling and Tommy smirked again, this time more sarcastically than before.

“Locking the door” he responded bluntly but with a half-smile on his face.

“Why?” you queried again nervously while Tommy finally approached you.

“Because we don’t want my wife or daughter to walk in on us while we fuck, do we?” Tommy responded before cornered you and traced one of his hands across your cheek.

“No, we do not” you confirmed with a gasp in your voice as his fingers moved back along your cheekbone, and tangled sharply into your hair.

You hissed air through your teeth, as the pain prickled your scalp and your chest lifted toward his body, presenting itself submissively under his grasp.

Tommy then guided you closer towards his desk and his firm grasp on your hair directed you up on to your toes, where he then pulled you even closer, and kissed you firmly. His tongue parted your lips, and took your mouth captive. The mixture of surrender and desire swirling through your body gave the kiss an intoxicating effect, and you had to place your hands against his chest to balance.

His grasp on your hair released, and he stroked the place he had previously held, as your kiss broke free.

“This needs to stay between us Love. Understood?” Tommy then said and you nodded eagerly while Tommy guided his thumb over your chin seductively before taking off his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves, leaving his arms exposed.

“I understand Mr Shelby. Now tell, what do you want me to do for you? I am yours” you said while watching him and, again, he smirked.

“I want you to get onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Love?” he teased and, of course, you nodded again and complied with his request.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you then confirmed while starring at his manhood pushing firmly against the fabric of his pants.

‘Very good” Tommy cooed. “Now take out my cock and let me watch those velvety lips wrap around it” Tommy then said with a deep growl which was reverberating through your needy body and making your belly flutter hotly. He was so sure of himself and this aroused you even more.

‘It would be my pleasure” you told him as you reached for his crotch with shaking hands before unclasping his belt and undoing the zipper of his black pants nervously.

‘Common Love, we don’t have all day, eh” he then chuckled, seeing how nervous you were and, with that, you finally managed to undo what needed to be undone and pushed down his pants and briefs in one go.

At his height, his cock hovered just above your waiting lips and your eyes traced longingly over the veins coiling down his thick shaft to the neat tuft of dark hair around the base.

Your hand went immediately to Tommy’s length, stroking it gently and, just after a groan escaped his lips, he again gave you the hurry up.

‘Open your mouth Love and show me your tongue’ he said and you nervously complied with his request.

"Yes Mr Shelby" you gasped again, your voice a breathless whine.

“Good, now run it over my cock and then wrap your lips around it” Tommy instructed and you bucked up on your knees, getting into position with your parted lips hovering just above his waiting cock. Your eyes stayed low, fixed on his crotch and, just as you starred into his pelvis, you gently licked his head, tasting the salty precum that had already pooled in his slit.

You then wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, the musky smell of his manhood filling your nostrils and sending heat flooding through your heaving chest.

Tommy groaned as soon as your lips made contact with his throbbing shaft but then you made your first mistake. You reached up with one trembling hand to hold his cock by the base, meaning to steady his shaft as you worked your lips deeper. Your tentative fingers wrapped around him, feeling the delightful stiffness in your submissive grasp, the throbbing heat of him, pulsing with desire for your warm lips and soft tongue.

You then started to lean forward, meaning to take more of his length inside your mouth, but Tommy stopped you.

"No Love. Do it properly, eh. Keep those hands behind your back and just use your mouth" Tommy snapped and your disobedient hand was flying behind you to clasp the other there in the small of your back, clasping your wrists firmly.

“Good. Now open up wide and take my cock into your throat” Tommy instructed before you resumed to use your mouth to hold his cock without using your hands, cradling the head between your soft lips. Craning up, you started to slide yourself down, taking a little more of him each time. His stiff cock pressed down on your waiting tongue, stretching your lips wider as you worked your way deeper.

“You are doing well” Tommy said as your pussy ached with desire at the taste of his skin, the warmth and hardness of him filling your mind and drowning you in the sensation of his manly organ pressed inside your waiting mouth.

"Use your tongue" he then growled and you shivered before curling your tongue up, letting the soft muscle tease around the tip of his cock, just gently brushing over what you know is achingly sensitive skin where the spongy head meets the shaft. Your reward moments later was a low groan of pleasure in Tommy’s deep voice.

“This feels good. Keep going” Tommy told you as his muscled legs tensed on either side of you. Your tongue darted back around, flickering over the small, stretched sliver of skin where his foreskin met the head of his erection. He groaned again, and you could feel the pulsing throb of his shaft against your lips as his cock responded to your attention. Your skin tingled with longing anticipation, knowing you are managing to please him.

"Now take me deeper” Tommy then demanded and, before you had time to think, he took hold of the back of your head and forced you down his cock. You whimpered as he made you lean forward, your stretched lips sliding almost halfway down his length before he allowed you to draw back, then repeating again. The third time, you pressed your lips deeper, taking almost his entire length until you felt the hard tip of his cock pressing painfully against the entrance to your throat. A small discomfort, easily ignored in your need to obey.

“Good girl. Fuck. Keep going” Tommy purred as you held him there for a few moments, feeling a slight ache in your chest as your lungs protested. Then, finally he let go of you and you leaned up again, leaving his pulsing shaft glistening with saliva as your stretched lips glid back along his length until only the head rested against your fluttering tongue.

“You look absolutely delightful like this Sweetheart” Tommy smirked as you snatched a breath through your nose, the scent of him filling the very air you breathe. Then, it began again and he forced you to lean forward and his cock pressed inside your mouth once more.

Quickly enough, you relaxed into the rhythm of what Tommy made you do and you let your body and your need to please take over. The slow count from one to three settled into an easy habit, and you found yourself considering just how you felt right now. But you considered Tommy’s responses too, the way his breath hitched when you licked at that one particular spot near the head of his cock, the tenseness in his legs when you took his shaft deeper that told you just how much he enjoyed every moment.

"I am close” Tommy then murmured, his voice echoing your unspoken thoughts. "Look at me" he ordered and you paused at that, your tongue still delicately resting on the tip of Tommy’s erection.

You complied with his orders and a pair of blue eyes starred back at you, dulled with hooded pleasure as your tongue continued playing over the tip of his cock. You sucked on his shaft and he moaned again, his lips trembling. Your heart soared at the obvious pleasure on his handsome face, knowing that you were the cause of all of it.

"Good Girl. Keep going and make me cum in your mouth” Tommy went on to say while his warm hand landed on your head and he guided your movements once more. With a harsh grip on your hair, he made you lean forward and you almost choked on his shaft as the thick head of his cock slammed into the entrance to your throat. Your tongue moved like a serpent, writhing in your mouth, and sliding across every inch of his skin that you could reach, while your lips wrap around his shaft as you sucked lushly, the wet, sloppy sounds of your eager blowjob filling the room.

Tommy then groaned again and you could feel his cock swell in your mouth and his balls tightening against your chin. His breath caught, and just like that, you felt his hot cum spattering across your throat. His hips jerked back as he orgasmed, some of his bitter sweet seed spraying over your tongue instead, filling your mouth with the taste of his semen. His cock popped free of your lips, the last few pearly drops spattering across your lips and chin. You kneeled there, frozen in place, your eyes still fixed on his face as he gasped and panted for breath. Your own pussy ached and throbbed with needy heat, but the distraction of your own fierce arousal was easily ignored...for now at least.

"Hold it in your mouth” Tommy then said and you held as much of his thick load as you could in your mouth, the taste and smell of his cum filling your senses. "Now look up at me..." he ordered and you complied with his request while your cheeks puffed out to keep as much of the cum inside as you could until he said the unthinkable. "Now swallow it, every drop” he told you and after nodding reluctantly, your throat tensed as you gulp down the load, the slick cum sliding easily down into your waiting belly. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue, and you could feel the heat of it.

“Was this to your satisfaction Mr Shelby?” you then asked with a needy look on your face.

“It was” Tommy confirmed before pulling you to your feet.

“You did well Love” he then said before pressing his lips on to yours in a haste, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he had just cum in your mouth and, just as you were expected you gave into the kiss.

Just as Tommy was kissing you, his hand came in between your thighs and he ran his fingers through your wetness.

“You are so fucking wet for me, eh” Tommy said with great satisfaction after he pulled his mouth away from your lips and placed his fingers onto them, making you taste your own wetness.

“Of course I am Mr Shelby” you told him and, again Tommy smirked.

“Good” he told you before giving you some further instructions. “Now come over here and lean over my desk. I want to fuck you from behind and, when I do, I expect you not to make a sound. Is that understood?” Tommy then said and, of course, you nodded once more and complied with his request.

You leaned across his large cedar desk and looked back at him expectantly and, just as you did, he pushed down your bikini bottoms to reveal your naked ass and pussy.

“Your pussy looks rather inviting Love. So wet and tight” Tommy said just as you saw that his cock was hard and ready again but, when he walked behind you and aligned himself with your wetness, you began to tremble.

“Has anyone ever fucked you like this? From behind over a fucking desk?” he then asked and you shook your head.

“No Mr Shelby” you confirmed and a smile formed across his face.

“Well, Love, this may be a little uncomfortable at first then, but you will learn to enjoy it” Tommy then told you as his hands began roaming over your back and ass, squeezing at your flesh.

You moaned, especially when his hands came around to your front and began squeezing your breasts which you lifted off the desk just as his hands demanded. Looking down you could see his hands kneading the tender mounds, playing with your nipples.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, Tommy pressed into you from behind, his cock rubbing along the length of your wet pussy, making you yearn for him to turn you over and spread your thighs open for him.

But this was not what he had planned and, instead, Tommy pulled one of his hands away from your breasts in order to line himself up with your pussy, and he began to push into you from behind. You gasped with this novel sensation as Tommy’s cock rubbed the insides of your pussy in a completely new way. He pushed into you all the way in one stroke until his groin met up with your ass cheeks and you could feel your flesh pressing against his body. The sensation made you moan and wiggle as you luxuriated in this new self-indulgence.

Then he pulled out and slammed in again, taking your breath away and rocking your body.

“Oh god” you moaned as you felt him all the way in your stomach. It was painful but also incredibly erotic.

Tommy’s hands moved around and started kneading your breasts again, making you moan as you pushed back against him.

With every thrust, you could feel your elbows buckling a little, and your wrists were starting to hurt as you grasped the cedar and you did not like how that distracted you from the pleasure you were feeling. With that, you lowered yourself to your elbows, which had the pleasant effect of lifting your ass into a better position.

Liking your new position, Tommy slid back and put his hands on your hips so that he could admire the way his cock looked split open your pink pussy. He liked seeing you like this, taking him from behind and you moaned over and over again as you were impaled by his powerful thrusts.

Wetting his finger in his mouth, Tommy then pushed it against your yet still unexplored opening and was pleased to see that your body easily opened up and accepted it.

You were shocked and confused by what he was doing and, yet, your groans of pleasure got louder as he added a second finger.

“Oh god I feel so full” you moaned as you gave into the pleasure without thinking about how wrong it was and, after a little while, Tommy pulled his fingers from that tempting hole and used both his hands on your hips to pump you from behind even more powerfully, glorying in your cries of pleasure as he claimed you as his.

Soon, Tommy’s thrusts were coming harder and faster, and even though you were more stable on your elbows, you could feel him pushing you forward.

Reaching underneath your body, Tommy sought out your clit with his fingers, and you let out a cry of rapture as he began rubbing the engorged nub of pleasure. Your legs and arms trembled with the effort of holding yourself up as ecstasy threatened to overcome your senses, and Tommy continued to pound at you from the rear. As his fingers continued to rub, you could feel the heady tingling rush of your orgasm overtaking you, and you collapsed before him... he followed you down, his cock thrusting hard into your pussy and impaling you as you almost collapsed on the desk before him.

You could feel him growing bigger inside of you as you writhed with elated gratification, and your orgasm grew as, finally, you felt a strange but extremely pleasant sensation inside of you as Tommy was filling you with his seed.

It felt sensational and, whilst you were incredibly sore, you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you like this and, after you finally came down from your high, you felt like your body was made of jelly. You felt so drained and shaky and then you moaned a little as Tommy’s lips and tongue pressed against your back, making your body jerk.

‘You did well Sweetheart. I quite enjoyed that’ he cooed before pulling his softening cock out of you and guiding you onto your feet, allowing you to turn around and catch your breath.

‘Oh god so did I” you barely managed to say and, just as you spoke, Tommy kissed you once more.

‘I have work to do now, but we should do this again sometime soon” he announced and you knew that this wasn’t going to be just a one-off encounter.

“I would like that Mr Shelby” you thus confirmed before retrieving your panties from the floor and putting them back on just before his cum could drip out of your well used hole.

“Good. Now clean yourself before you go back into the pool, eh” he smirked and you gave him a quick wink before you disappeared into the hallway.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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crackedpumpkin · 2 years ago

Text

ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴏɴᴇ ||

[ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“If there is a god out there, please make sure my order isn’t missing any pickles this time.”

“Here ya go, extra pickles on the side,” Mr. Perez, the store owner, grunts as he all but flings a wrapped sub into your hands from behind the counter. You grab it with relative ease, undeterred by how oddly soggy the parchment paper is. It’s a slow day in the sub shop, with many of its usual customers absent.

“How much?”

“Five bucks.”

“How’s Didi?” You ask, fishing out a crumpled five-dollar bill in your pocket and handing it to him. You drop another into the tip jar when his back is turned, humming innocently when he faces you with a bag of small cookies.

“The usual. Slightly less of the devil incarnate lately, though. I think it’s because you’re coming over to babysit more often.” You take the cookies gratefully, a small note written in the ten-year-old’s messy scrawl glued to the side. You stash it away in your backpack, ensuring it doesn’t get crushed behind your sketchbook and pencil case.

“Is that y/n?” You hear the clatter of plates being shoved aside, Didi peeking out from behind the blinds that separate the storefront from the stairs that lead upstairs to their house. You smile but realize she won’t be able to see it through your cloth mask.

“In the flesh,” You grin, scooping Didi into a tight hug. You prop her on your hip, transferring the sub to your free hand as she giggles. “Have you made any new friends in school?”

Her lips purse into a pout, fiddling with your hair with sulky eyes. “No…They’re all stinky. Except for Maribelle, because she likes pickles.”

“Does no one else like pickles, then?” You ask curiously, Didi shaking her head.

“Tommy and Jam like them, but they’re boys,” She informs you in complete and utter seriousness. You’re so tempted to comment, but you know that if you did, she’d sulk for at least half an hour.

“Jam?”

“Yeah, Jam.”

“Are you sure that’s his name?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then,” You shrug, turning your head to the side so she can’t see the amused glint in your eyes.

“Are you headed to the bank?” Mr. Perez asks offhandedly, cleaning one of his bread knives with a damp cloth.

“Gotta cash in the moolah,” You rub your fingers together in reference to the cheque that’s buried somewhere in the bottom of the heavy bag on your shoulders. You had recently finished a commission, and your client had tipped you generously, paying you an extra fifty bucks on top of the two hundred she was already paying.

“Can I come? I wanna come. I’m going,” Didi demands as she braids a few strands of your hair. You look back at Mr. Perez for permission, the gruff man nodding in response.

“Okay, but make sure you always stay with me, yeah?” Didi nods eagerly, kicking your side slightly as she points to the door. You leave the store with her in your arms, making your way to the bank.

“Can we buy Legos?” You hum in thought, trying to decide how to reject Didi’s request without being too harsh. She tugs the beanie on your head, and it slides down to just above your eyes. You chuckle, using the back of your preoccupied sub-carrying hand to shift it back up slightly.

“Do you have enough money to buy some?”

“I got money!” Didi’s small hands search her pockets, patting down until she finds what she’s looking for. She pulls out a ten-dollar bill with a triumphant smile, eyes shining with anticipation as she looks at you.

“Then we’ll buy some on the way back, yeah?” You offer, already seeing the money leave your wallet when you pay for the leftover cost of the Lego set.

“Hmm…Okay!” Didi agrees after a moment of thought, clapping her hands together and urging you to walk faster. You break into a slight jog just to tease her, soon reaching the doors of the large bank.

You push past the huge glass doors with your shoulder, the sub still in your hands. You couldn’t put it in your bag, fearing it’d ruin your cherished sketchbook and, even worse, the crumpled cheque buried somewhere near it.

You eye the long lines for each counter, groaning at the thought of a prolonged wait. You scan the hall, trying to find the shortest queue.

There. You quickly join the line of people waiting, breathing a sigh of relief when you see a few more people join your queue right after you do. The bank is mostly quiet; the only sounds are fingers clacking away on keyboards and hushed conversations of bank account details.

A trio of men wearing black cloth masks stand in a corner, furtively glancing around and having a hushed conversation amongst themselves. Two large bags are on the floor next to the shortest one, all three nodding at each other before the other two pick up the bags and head towards the door while the shortest approaches the information counter with another bag slung on his hip.

Huh. Maybe they have social anxiety.

You watch them converse with the clerk, half your attention on Didi, who’s tugging on your hair while braiding it out of boredom. You spot the clerk smiling nervously in your peripheral, brushing it off as the usual horrible customer service interaction.

You focus on Didi instead, jostling her slightly in your arms. She yelps, lips pursing into a scowl when she’s disturbed from her concentrated braiding. You giggle, entertained by her reaction. You lean in, bumping your head against hers in a gentle tease.

The doors slam shut.

You flinch at the sudden sound, turning to see the two men from earlier at the entrance. Each stands in front of the doors, arms crossed with two large rifles in their hand as they quickly adorn ski masks. The man at the information counter now has a gun in their hands, pointing it up at the ceiling and firing a single shot.

The loud bang startles Didi, who instantly covers her ears, pushing her head against your shoulder with a small squeak. You protectively hold her close to you, ready to shield her body with your own in case anything happens.

“Everyone drop everything, get down on the ground, and lift your hands now!”

You slowly sink to the ground, eyes never leaving the guns in their hands. This situation is the opposite of ideal. Being held hostage isn’t exactly part of your five-year plan for graduation. The doors are guarded by the guards, dark silhouettes blocking the sunlight.

“Hey! I said to drop everything and lift up your hands,” One of the robbers guarding the doors earlier points a gun straight at you with a glare. You look from the weapon to the sub in your hands, reluctant to let go.

“I said, drop it!”

You gingerly set it down with a defeated sigh. “You happy now?” You ask him with a scowl. He steps towards you, still aiming his gun at you as he picks up your sub and throws it to the side. It lands with a plop onto the dirty ground, now a ruined mess.

“Wha- My sub!” You complain with an offended gasp, now glaring at the man who just destroyed your dinner. You see the arch of his brow beneath his thin ski mask, exchanging a confused look with his accomplice.

“You do know this is loaded, right?” He questions with a wave of his gun.

“You just threw away a perfectly fine sub! It even had extra pickles!” You argue, still mourning the loss of your dinner. Setting down your sub you could deal with. But flinging it against the wall? That was absolutely uncalled for. “You’re a maniac,” You seethe, your jaw clenched as you shoot him the coldest glare you can muster.

You hear tiny sniffles and a loud hiccup from beside you, looking down to see Didi’s scrunched nose with snot dripping down it and tears streaming down her red cheeks. Her lips are pressed tightly together, but you know she’s about to start wailing.

“Hey, hey, Didi,” You call out to her gently, ignoring the robber that watches you intently. “Let’s play a game of patty cake, okay?” You offer, holding out your hands. She places her small ones in yours, and you curl your fingers to cover her own.

“I’m scared,” She hiccups, her sniffles growing louder by the minute. You shush her with a reassuring smile, thinking of a way to soothe her.

“Oi! You sure have a death wish, lil’ missy.” You hear the cock of a gun behind you, turning to see it being pointed straight at you. “I already said: hands up where I can see ‘em.”

“Look, do you want to handle a wailing child that’s bound to attract attention? Or do you want me to calm her down so none of us get a headache?”

After a moment of deliberation, he moves his gun down to his side. “I’m watching you,” He warns.

“Yeah, yeah, as if I’d forget.” You huff with a roll of your eyes, crossing your legs and sitting down with Didi in your lap. “Now, where were we?”

You continue playing patty cake with the trembling girl after coaxing her into removing her hands from her ears. The shortest robber, who seems to be the ringleader of the three, is preoccupied with getting the clerk to empty the enormous vault at the back, stuffing bundles of cash into the large duffel bags they had carried with them earlier.

It’s tense.

Everyone chooses to stay silent, their shaky hands and terrified eyes a pleasure to the thugs. You risk a quick glance around, wondering when the hell Spiderman would show up. Isn’t this in his job description? Was he even getting paid?

Someone knocks on the door.

The two crooks guarding the doors turn instantly, pointing their guns at a familiar figure with their hands raised in surrender.

“Yo! I came here to negotiate, not to fight.”

They look to their ringleader for a response, the latter giving them a nod and gesturing to their guns warily. They nod at each other, hoisting their weapons closer to their chest and opening one of the doors.

Before they can react, Spiderman drops to the floor, immediately kicking their guns out of their hands. They land on the floor with a clatter. “You should really think twice before opening the door for strangers,” He chides, nimbly avoiding a harsh blow from the two thugs surrounding him.

That’s a nice suit.

Your eyes automatically follow him as he swings, dodges, and takes out the robbers in mere minutes. He’s nimble, avoiding each blow and disarming the vicious crooks that threaten to fire.

“One step closer, and she’s dead meat!”

Didi’s body is grabbed from your arms, and you look up in horror as the robber that threatened you earlier holds his gun close to the small child. Tears are dribbling down her cheeks uncontrollably, choking on her stifled sniffles.

“Woah, woah, woah,” The masked vigilante halts in his steps, hands raised up, “Threatening a kid? That’s not gonna look good on your record, man.”

“Then put your hands up, walk to the wall, and give up!”

“Wait!” You scramble to your feet, freezing as soon as you do. The robber presses the gun barrel closer to Didi’s shoulder, an ice-cold grip of fear crawling down your spine at the sight.

You can’t let her get hurt. You rack your brains, trying to figure out a good distraction for Spiderman to take action. “I-I’m pretty sure I’m gonna die, but I just have to say something.”

“Get down on the floor!” The robber shouts harshly, fed up with the kids that keep bothering his easy getaway. You slowly kneel back down, never breaking eye contact with Didi, whose cheeks turn redder by the second. You spot Spiderman’s finger slowly moving to press his web shooter, eyes darting between him and Didi. An idea takes form in your mind, but it’s risky.

You pause, swallowing nervously. “Didi… I’m the one that broke BunBun.”

She screams.

The ear-splitting sound makes the robber wince, dropping her to cover his ears. Spiderman seizes the opportunity, using his web fluid to grab his gun and toss it away in the far corner of the bank. He immediately gets to work through Didi’s screaming, effortlessly capturing the last robber and throwing him aside in a cocoon fashioned out of his web fluid.

You grab Didi, scuttling back into your corner of safety and trying to placate her. You gently rock her in your arms, letting her cry into your shirt. The collar is now soaked with her tears, and you’re beginning to regret confessing to the crime of having accidentally broken one of her favourite plates. You’d blamed it on the passing wind, and she bought it.

“Hey guys, y’all are safe now.” You look back up at Spiderman, who leans against the wall near you, scanning the crowd of relieved people who cheer for his bravery. He chuckles, casually shrugging as he tries to brush off the praise. He double-checks if anyone is hurt, his gaze lingering on you for a split second.

He gives you a brief nod and a friendly two-fingered salute, and you tiredly reciprocate the gesture with a still-crying Didi in your arms. His head moves back slightly in a wince (well, you’re pretty sure it’s a wince. You can’t really tell with his mask and everything.), and for a moment, you feel as though he’s sympathizing with you.

He takes his leave through the glass doors, Spiderman-style, with his web-slinging skills and whatnot. You’re left with the aftermath of the police finally showing up, the crying child deterring them from asking you any further questions besides a short testimony.

“Didi, it’s over now. We’re safe.” You try to soothe her by gently patting her head and hugging her tightly briefly. You’re sure your shirt is soaked by now. It baffles you how a child has so much water in their system that they still sob even after half an hour.

It took an apology, three Lego sets, and a future promise for another at Christmas to get her to stop crying.

— — — — —

The bed creaks noisily when you collapse on it with an exhausted groan, the sound a subtle sign of the old bed frame threatening to break any day now. The glow-in-the-dark stars glued onto your ceiling shines softly, the chilly breeze of Brooklyn gusting through your open window. You’d dropped off Didi on your way home, reassuring Mr. Perez that she was unharmed.

You shiver, getting up to close the window before hanging your beanie on the clothing hooks behind your door. You turn on the switch to the lamp on your desk, the warm yellow light coating your room with a cozy atmosphere.

Your stomach growls, a reminder of your delicious dinner having been a victim in the whole hostage situation from earlier. You sigh. Whatever. You’d grab a bigger breakfast tomorrow instead. For now, though, a simple protein bar from your snack drawer would have to do.

You unwrap it and bite down, munching hungrily while grabbing your sketchbook from your bag and laying it flat on your desk. You flip the pages, eyeing the empty pages with distaste. Page after page of drawings that didn’t meet your standards make your heart sink.

You finally land on an empty page and grab a pencil with your free hand. You tap the end onto the blank paper impatiently, trying to think of more inspiration for your next work. You’d been in a slump lately, and while commissions did give you some extra pocket money to go cafe hopping, it didn’t help much with your lack of artistic creativity.

Your hands itch to sketch out an idea. Anything would do. The only problem is that your brain can’t provide even a smidgen of inspiration. You huff, leaning back in your chair.

You sit up straight and scooch closer to the paper, hoping that maybe that’d trigger some form of idea.

Nope. Nothing. Nothing hits you.

Maybe it’s the happenings of today as well, what with a gun being pointed at you and helping your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman take down those thugs. You grin, recalling how Didi’s scream had impacted the poor goon, lips tugging down slightly at the reminder of your now empty wallet.

You’d have to find another commission soon.

Maybe Spiderman would want one?

You begin to doodle absentmindedly, the scratching of lead against paper a soothing sound that practically lulls you into a trance. You recall the red spray paint of a jagged spider against the black suit, the design of it so simplistic and yet representing his personality so well.

You remember his quick nod to you and silly salute, a chuckle slipping past your lips. How did he look like again? His elbow was bent, and two fingers were placed on his forehead as he leaned against the wall. He’s relatively lean, you recall, and probably taller than you too. It’s difficult to gauge since you were in a rather sticky situation that called for hunched shoulders and hesitant movements.

Your hand moves as if it’s got a mind of its own, recalling the webbed pattern on his suit. You draw and draw, adding shading after a basic outline is done. Your mind is foggy, no other thoughts remain except to transfer your memory onto paper.

Wow.

You stare down at what you’ve just drawn, taking in the overall sketch with a shaky exhale. It’s the best you’ve done in a long while, with all the details contributing to the final product.

It’s exactly as you remember, having drawn Spiderman giving you that silly salute while leaning against the tiled walls. You’d even shaded his suit perfectly.

You’re breathless. Is this really your work? From your own two hands, no less? It’s probably a one-off thing, but boy, does it feel good. Maybe thinking about Spiderman is the main reason why.

You giggle at the entertaining thought, shaking your head.

It’s probably just the adrenaline.

#spiderman: into the spiderverse #Into The Spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #into the spiderverse x reader #spiderman: into the spiderverse x reader

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

Note

can you give me a quick bio on ghost…his personality, how you view him canon and what not

Ghost headcanons

Ghost doesn't wear a mask in public. It's easier to maintain his anonymity that way because a skull mask/balaclava would only draw more attention. The only instances he might wear it in a public place would be if he's with people he doesn't wish to get linked to/associated with (like in the famous scene where he's at a bar with Laswell & co)

He doesn't have a home, not even a rental flat. He stays at the base, stays at motels, hotels, b&bs when he's in England. Partly because having anything stable in his life is dangerous, partly because his attachment issues are so severe that even owning a place will make him feel uncomfortable. Returning to the same, dusty place with only a tv and a fridge to keep him company is depressing.

He never visits Manchester. Too many sour memories and too many people who might still recognize him when he's supposed to be dead. There's no one there left to visit either, save for a few old friends who he can't keep in contact with because he wants to protect them.

He hasn't dated since he was 20-something. He doesn't want to take the risk of losing his loved ones ever again. He's had a few one night stands but disappears before dawn, hating the man he has to be in order to protect those who might otherwise steal their way into his heart.

He's considered using escort services instead, but even the thought leaves a foul taste in his mouth because of his childhood memories and the things his father did to women. He goes to strip clubs sometimes when he has a weak moment, drinks one whiskey and then goes to his motel room and jerks himself off, feeling lousy and even more depressed afterward.

If we ignore this man's attachment issues and complex trauma and imagine he would settle into a situationship or even a relationship:

Ghost is not mean, brutal or abusive. In bed or in any non-work related circumstances (Ghost would say he's not brutal or mean at work either: he's just efficient.) He can be rough if you want and even enjoys manhandling you a little, but he would have a hard time degrading you. He's a soft dom and a service top through and through and quite the gentleman at heart.

He has a lot of money. He's not a spender and has no kids so the pile of wealth he's accumulated over the years is quite enormous. He will spend his money on you though, take you out to dinner, buy you anything you need. He does it so willingly and effortlessly that you soon get a feeling that he's your sugar daddy or at least would want to be. He pays your electricity bill if he finds it on your table and sees it's overdue, doesn't even bother to ask for your permission. And oh, do you need a gorgeous dress for some occasion? Let him buy it for you. You need a car? Sure, no problem at all.

He's paranoid to the point of not telling you when he's about to visit you. He just pops on your doorstep, looking dog-tired and ten years older than he really is. The only thing he leaves in your apartment is a toothbrush and perhaps one of his sweatshirts (if you ask nicely.)

He seems to have a sixth sense, and is very superstitious. He thinks telling you he loves you is a perfect way to attract malevolent attention and bad luck upon himself, so he refrains from being verbal about how he truly feels. You think he's indifferent, that you're just a shag for this man, but in truth he's dedicated and devoted to you and sees no one else but you, thinks about you at work so much so that he already calls you a distraction in his mind. It's dangerous, his feelings are already bringing him bad luck, and so the cycle of silence continues…

He's an incredible hacker but uses old, foolproof technology to avoid being traced. You can never call him, he always calls you. If he even calls.

He's not a drinker and doesn't like to see you drinking either. He absolutely, vehemently hates drugs.

He's embarrassed about it but he has read like 5 novels in his lifetime. All other books have been non-fiction, manuals and the like. He says he hasn't got the time to read.

He loves to see you in ultra feminine underwear. Lace, stay ups, suspenders: he loves to undress you like you're a delicately wrapped Christmas present just for him.

He loves to eat pussy. He would eat you all day, every day, for the rest of his life if he could. He especially loves it when you ride his face and he gets to feel how your thighs start to tremble next to his face.

He loves missionary. Loves loves loves to spread you open and spread his religion. You even joke about it: that his ass is so fit because he fucks you so much, and he only smiles to himself because it's true.

Ghost wants kids, but would he ever tell you that? No. He never tells you anything. You know nothing of this man, not even his favorite movie or his favorite color (which is not black, btw).

He has a terrible praise kink. He loves praising you, teasing you, making you flustered while he's inside you – but if you ever tell him he's big? He's good? That you like it when he smiles? His brain goes full error. He fucks up the rhythm of his thrusts and has to gather his breath. (Then he ups the stakes and praises you even more. Because he also has to win. Always.)

If you ever tell him you miss him, that you can't sleep without him… He disappears for weeks. Then he suddenly comes back, more touch starved and desperate than ever. Your words have gone under his skin whether he likes it or not. You can't even tell whether he's fucking you or making love to you, but you're left feeling like you just got hit by the most loving, gentle bus. There's no explanation, and it's futile to try and pry what's gone into him. But just before you fall asleep, he ghosts his fingers down your arm and whispers: "Pet… I missed you too."

#answered #simon ghost riley #ghost headcanons #simon riley headcanons #not a quick bio but #*shrugs*

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spindrifters · 10 months ago

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In honor of impmas 2024, I present to you good godfather sirius black and the one and only time I will ever write harry, ft. some groupchat crack treated seriously. happy birthday, @impishtubist!

“Where have you been?”

Harry jumps, the uncanny impersonation of Molly Weasley reverberating through the dusty rafters and black lacquer front hall of Grimmauld Place. Sirius smirks, grabs the lanky fifteen year-old by the scruff and pulls him into an all-encompassing hug.

“Didn’t half scare me, Sirius,” Harry grumbles into his chest, and there’s the whisper of an attempt to pull away, but his heart isn’t really in it. In any case, Sirius doesn’t let him go, just buries a grin into that mess of hair. Lemongrass shampoo and London grime.

“Serves you right, sneaking off in the middle of the night.”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

“No? What time d’you call this, then?”

“A perfectly appropriate time of night to go for a walk,” his godson continues to grouse. “Needed to clear my head.” Only it doesn’t escape his notice that there hasn’t been another attempt to pull away. And he’s not wrong. It’s barely half eleven, only Harry’s at double risk on his own these days. If not Death Eaters or another bloody dementor, then the press who’ll hound him to the ends of the earth should they catch sight of the Boy Who Lied—fucking cunts—alone on walkabout without so much as his friends for a buffer. There’s a reason the Order’s got about ten layers of protocol surrounding his protection at all times. If it were anyone else who’d caught him slipping in through the front door, there’d be hell to pay.

Harry’s not stupid, though. Far from it, Sirius thinks, that old pride swelling in his chest. And he’s got James’s cloak for good measure, clutched in a hand that smells of hot concrete and pigeon shit.

Harry seems to sag against his chest, Sirius’s hand still wrapped around his nape. Summer sweat of a teenage boy on the brink of becoming a man.

“Knut for your thoughts?”

“M’fine.”

Liar.

These are the things, then. The little tells beyond the way Harry strains toward him like a houseplant yearning for the sun. It’s not the same as sniffing out smells—daffodils and murtlap essence and the endless putrid fecal stench of Azkaban—but it’s just as strong. Pheromones or some muggle toss like that, something he might ask Hermione Granger about if he remembers before she heads back off to school.

It’s something Sirius noticed a long time ago, the change that happened in fifth year when his own heightened senses were lent keener by the dog that now lived inside. He remembers that Prongs was bright and coppery like triumph when he stepped off the Quidditch pitch, or cinnamon-fresh like home. He remembers being sixteen, frustrated and hormonal and knowing he’d die on the spot if anyone caught him with his nose buried in Moony’s discarded trousers to see if there was anything there that might even hint he wasn’t alone in this.

And Harry…

Something sour signaling frustration. Harsh metallic that means fear. Beneath that, the sweet damp scent of hurt. Sirius can hardly blame him. Fuck Peter Pettigrew, if he ever gets out of this fucking godforsaken house arrest, Merline Maitland and the rest of her staff at the Prophet are at the very top of his hit list.

“Go to bed,” he tells him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow, one that smells of rubbish bins lining the streets for the morning to come.

Green eyes flick up, half shock. “Thought I’d get it in the neck.”

“Nah,” says Sirius, guiding him up the stairs. “Just let me know next time. Maybe Snuffles can come along, too.”

“Yeah,” says Harry, though they both know he won’t. Sirius doesn’t need to sniff that out to know. He still thinks he has to protect Sirius just as much as Sirius knows it's not his job to do it.

He’s a good boy, Prongs. Too good. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

And.

You’d be so bloody proud.

#good godfather sirius black #harry potter #sirius black #my fic #imp tag #impmas 2024

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system-to-the-madness · 10 months ago

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Midnight At Osanbashi Pier - Dazai Osamu x Reader

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem!Reader Genre: hurt/comfort - fluff Word Count: 2 611 Warnings: OOC!Dazai (sorry), sexual harassment (not by Reader or Dazai!) Summary: Your date for New Years starts getting pushy but luckily Dazai is there to interfere A/N: For @un-lawliet ... and the photographs are actually from taken from Osanbashi Pier in Yokohama on New Years Eve 2023

Masterlist

Behind your back, blue lights of the harbour illumination were sparkling brightly in the last minutes of the old year, but their glitter did nothing to easy your discomfort. You really regretted having agreed to this date with the barista from the café you always picked the Armed Detective Agency's order up from. Especially since the longer the date progressed the more you wished you had instead agreed to spend New Year's Eve with the other members of the ADA. The man, John, was cute, with huge blue eyes and lazily sideways swiped hair, the American accent in his voice giving his speech a charming tilt.

And he was a welcome distraction from those coffee-brown eyes that kept haunting you.

Dazai was your coworker, you kept telling yourself, and he was the flirtiest man you knew. He flirted pretty much with everything and anything that crossed his path, except for you. In the beginning you had been rather happy he hadn't focused on you the same way he did with everyone else, but the better you got to know him, the more you hoped he'd also pay attention to you the way he seemed to do with everyone else. Sure, receiving the attention you had been craving for the past year would probably only make your feelings for him worse and end in heartbreak, considering he could never be serious. You had seen him go out with enough girls only to barely acknowledge them after, as if one date had been enough for him to completely lose any and all interest in them entirely. You feared if Dazai were to ever direct his attention to you, you'd end up meeting the same fate.

Your thoughts got interrupted by two warm and strong hands on your waist, making you tense up. Your date, John, had tried being handsy with you all evening and honestly, the more he tried the more your alarm bells rang. Not to mention that the date didn't go as planned at all. First he had been late and had dragged you to some cheap pizza place instead of the rice bowl restaurant you had agreed on. Then he had continued talking only about himself and how amazing it was for him to have scored a place in the exchange program to Japan before he even started making degrading comments about your "office job" because, unwilling to explain to him about abilities and the ADA, you had told him you worked as an assistant in a detective agency, which he had somehow understood as an invitation to look down on all office workers ever.

You should have called it quits after that, telling him you wanted to end the date there and instead have called up Kunikida to pick you up, so you could spend the rest of the evening with your coworkers and friends. But John had convinced you to come to Osanbashi Pier with him, so you had only sent a quick text to Atsushi, complaining about your situation.

Sure, the view over the harbour towards night-time Yokohama was fantastic and the light show, the illumination and the music creating a beautiful atmosphere, but with John sticking to your side, trying to pull you in every chance he got, you'd be lying if you said it didn't destroy the mood.

"Only ten seconds left of this year now," he whispered his tall frame towering over you, warm breath fanning over your ear, making you shudder.

The crowd around you began a count down, and you pressed closer to the balustrade of the pier, trying to avoid the overbearing contact with John's body, but he only stepped closer.

The Ferris Wheel at the other side of the harbour counted down the remaining seconds, colourful lights shining through the cool December night. You wondered what their light would look like reflected in Dazai's eyes.

Just when the countdown hit two, John spun you around to face him, and leant in. Panic surged through you, and before his lips could touch yours, you twisted in his arms, pushing away from him.

"What do you think you're doing," you shouted over the cheering of the crowd around you as the clock stroke midnight. The Ferris Wheels lit up in all colours of the rainbow.

"New Year's Kiss, what did you think," John grinned broadly as if he were proud of himself, reaching for your waist again to pull you back in.

"No thanks, I'm good," you denied.

His expression shifted from overly cheerful to threatening.

"I think I deserve one, don't you? I've been very patient with you the whole evening!"

"I said no." You tried sounding strong, but somehow a proper fight was a lot easier than standing up for yourself. Carefully you took a step back.

"What do you mean, no?"

Another step back and you collided with something warm an firm; the chest of another guest.

"I do suppose she meant it in the way it usually is used, as a denial or rejection," a male voice interrupted, the voice belonging to the man you had stumbled into. A shiver ran down your spine as you recognised it as Dazai's. What was he doing here? "But do correct me if I'm wrong, my love." Affectionately he patted your head as he always did. The contact sent excited sparks through your body.

"Who the hell are you," John snarled, taking a threatening step towards Dazai and you. Instinctively you tensed, preparing to defend yourself, but then Dazai's hand slipped from your head to rest on your shoulder instead, and you knew he was ready to pull you behind himself, should the need arise.

"The person who will make sure to snap your hands off at the wrist if you dare touching her again without her explicit wish."

You knew Dazai's words were directed at John to protect you, but you still couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine at the ice in his voice. Feeling you tremble, Dazai squeezed your shoulder gently through the long coat you were wearing, his caring touch such a strong contrast to the threat in his words.

"Dazai-"

Carefully you turned around to face him, trusting him to warn you in time should John try to move in. His usually warm brown eyes were hardened with disgust, leaving no doubt about how angry he was on your behalf. Behind your back, somewhere over the harbour, fireworks exploded in the night sky, earning "ahh"s and "ohh"s from the crowd around you. The reds and greens lit Dazai's face up from one side, making him look even more threatening. But you also couldn't help but think that if the expression in his eyes had been softer, he would have looked angelic.

"What's your problem, man," John asked, sounding truly annoyed now.

"My problem is that you tried to kiss her when she clearly told you she didn't want you to. We might go as far as calling it sexual assault," Dazai hissed, trying to take a step forward, but you placed your hand at his chest, stopping him. With every deep inhale he took the cool fabric of his open coat shifted slightly over the smooth material of the expensive waistcoat he wore, giving away how worked up he was. Immediately his brown eyes flickered down to your hand on his chest and then your eyes.

"Don't," you mumbled and Dazai's eyes softened immediately.

"What? You gonna let her put a leash on you like some fucking dog?" John's continuously raised voice started drawing the attention of the people around you to the dispute, making you want to hide against Dazai's chest.

"Oh, kinky," the detective chuckled. "Are you into that, my love?" The last part was directed at you, driving heat to your cheeks.

"Hey-"

John took a step forward, but before you could react, Dazai had shoved you behind him.

"If you take one more step, we'll find out if I can throw you far enough that you'll actually hit the harbour and not the street below," Dazai warned, the playful edge in his voice having vanished again entirely, leaving only a sharp cold. "What do you think, my love? It's quite far to the water. Think he'll make it?"

Tightly gripping onto Dazai's arm, should he actually plan on making good on his words, you directed your attention to John again.

"You should leave," you advised.

Much to your surprise John didn't disagree and instead turned away from you with a clearly audible "bitch" on his lips.

When the next firework exploded in a rain of reds and oranges in the sky above you, he had disappeared in the crowd. Immediately Dazai turned to you, grabbing you gently by the shoulders and leaning down to eye level.

"Are you okay? Are you cold? You're shivering." The concern with which Dazai treated you now was the exact opposite of the way he had talked to John just a second ago. At his question you realised he was right. You were indeed shivering, but not from the cold and rather the stress the past minutes had caused you.

"How did you find me," you asked instead of answering as Dazai shrugged his coat off and threw it over your shoulders, tucking it into place without meeting your eyes.

"Atsushi showed me your message about how you wanted to leave and didn't know how. I got worried," he admitted and somehow he sounded unfamiliarly sincere, still evading your gaze.

"Thank you," you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his shoulder when you realised he wouldn't look at you.

"Can't have anything happening to you, you're too important to me," Dazai whispered, wrapping his arms around you, and holding you close, nuzzling his nose against your hair. He faintly smelled of green tea and ginger cookies.

For a moment you stood still like that, only processing what he had said.

"Why do you always call me 'my love'”, you suddenly asked, trying to pull away far enough to look at Dazai's face, but he kept you pressed to his chest.

"Can't you tell?"

Blue and purple fireworks lit up the night.

"Would I ask if I could?"

He sighed gently, placing a kiss against your hair. "You're not some tempting looking berry that could kill me with the first bite. You're- well, my love."

This time when you tried pulling away, he let you. His eyes reflected the glow of the Ferris Wheel behind your back and the sparks of the fireworks in the sky above the pier. The little light was enough to reveal the vulnerability in his gaze. It was strange. Dazai Osamu didn't do vulnerable. He was wrapped in bandages, protecting the traces of his hurtful past from preying eyes, always wore a cocky smile to hide the sadness that sometimes threatened to shimmer through. You knew him well enough to have seen him pull up these walls more than once. But now instead of throwing the gates to his soul shut, he pulled them wide open, letting you see everything, the pain, the fear, and seemingly infinite amounts of love. For a moment you thought you should be scared of being let in, being presented with all his heart like this. But instead all you felt was overwhelming gratitude and relief at finding your feelings returned.

Reaching up, you brushed a strand of his hair out of his forehead. His skin was cool to the touch and his eyes flickered closed for a moment before he forced them open again, giving you a long and intense look which finally pulled the words from your lips which you had held back for too long already.

"Please kiss me."

Dazai's eyes widened surprised at your request and flickered to your lips, but he hesitated. Instead of leaning in, his gaze grew absentminded for a moment, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Still focused on the way you nervously but your lip, he slowly spoke.

"If you let me kiss you now, you'll never get rid of me again," he warned.

"Who says I want to?"

"I mean it," his eyes finally found yours again as if he had snapped back into the moment. "I know you think I'll just move on like I do with everyone else, but the reason I can't stay with anyone else is because they aren't you."

Instead of answering him, you just kept looking at him, challengingly. Usually, Dazai was not one to easily loose a staring match, but this time he caved far quicker than you had anticipated. The only warning you got was a twitch of his nose before he leant in, pressing his soft lips against yours, making your eyes flicker closed. The smell of green tea filled your nose, as golden stars exploded over your heads, shining through your closed eyelids. Dazai's kiss was careful but determined as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you against him and when you wrapped your hand into the short hair in his nape, he quietly sighed into the kiss, sending another shiver through your body.

Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you could have sworn Dazai had to feel it and as if he had read your thoughts, he moved one hand from your waist, and instead slowly ran it up and down your back, gently comforting you into the kiss only to teasingly run the tip of his tongue against your lips once you had relaxed into his arms, making you inhale sharply at the foreign sensation and the sweet taste. Your reaction pulled a warm chuckle from his lips and heat into your cheeks but when you tried pulling away, he only let you do so for a moment before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you back against his lips, this time more urgent, making you gasp which in turn allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

It felt like he had taken up all your senses, his hair smooth under your fingers, the scent of green tea filling your nose, his breath and your heartbeat in your ears equally drowning out any other sound, his subtle taste of ginger cookies and mints making you dizzy. And when you pulled away, blinking your eyes open and gasping for breath, you met his eyes, fireworks of gold and silver reflecting in dark pools of brown that seemed to have found their own glow from within, shining with something you had never seen this strong in his eyes before. But it had been there for a long time, you suddenly realised, this softness with which he considered you, affection, that usually was well guarded behind the mask he always wore so meticulously. But now he had dropped that mask, for you. And that had to be the greatest gesture of trust you could imagine.

A smile pulled at Dazai's lips as he watched you study his face, not the usual teasing or silly smile, but an honest, heartfelt one.

"Happy New Year," you mumbled, reaching up, brushing the back of your fingers over his cheek. You could have sworn a slight hint of pink dusted over his face but in the dim and ever-changing light of the fireworks it was impossible to be certain.

Dazai laughed quietly, placing his hands at your waist, under his coat which he had thrown over your shoulders earlier, but over your own jacket and pulled you against him until your hips were flushed against his.

"Happy New Year," he whispered back before he leant in to kiss you once more.

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #osamu dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x y/n #osamu dazai x y/n #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #mad bsd #mad fluff

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dayumbxxch · 8 months ago

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Spoiled Memories

Chapter two

The clicking of shoes on tile fills the halls of Smith's Grove. A young 22 year old with dull eyes follows behind Delores, learning what to do at her new job.

The hushed lunchroom made Y/N heart race; even though she knew none of the patients were paying her any attention she couldn't help but feel self conscious.

Y/N's eyes glaze over as she mindlessly follows the older woman. Life had become dull and meaningless ever since she'd lost her brother. So she began to let her mind drift throughout the day to happier times. It had cost her a few jobs and almost a car crash once but she left more alive in her mind.

"-ey!"

"What were you saying?"

"We have to go down the hall to deliver the food to the ones that have to stay in their rooms."

Nodding the girl follows behind her mentor, the hallway was pin-drop silent. "These patients are deemed as hazards or themselves..or to others." Delores's voice dropped near the end while glancing towards a door they had passed.

Her lunch break approached rather quickly, leaving the break room Y/N began ease dropping on a conversation while grabbing a soda.

"So how's the new girl?" "Weird she doesn't really say anything. She just stands there silent and shit."

Hearing enough Y/N turned on her heel and walked back into the break room. Throughout her years of being a recluse she learned not to care about anything really.

She was here for money to find her brother. That was all she wanted ever since he went to jail and she was moved to a different foster home.

"So have you met the boogeyman yet?"

"Um..no I don't think I have"

Y/N's new coworker began a strange story.

"So there was this boy in a town near here in haddonfield. And one day after the years of bullying and torment he snapped and killed his sister, a kid from his school, and his step dad. So he was brought here when he was just ten years old. His mom came to see him every week. Then he snapped again killing a nurse right after the doctor stepped out of the room. His mom tired of it all shot herself dead. And in the next room was her daughter the boogeyman's little sister Laurie. Now he rots away in his room and he smells terrible. He looks homeless and has really greasy hair."

The boy described rang an unforgotten bell in Y/N head. "What was his name?" The woman spun around a clipboard from beside her.

Michael Myers

Y/N's heart skipped a little her golden childhood friend had murdered a bunch of people; he's now in the Sanitarium she just started working at. "I'm Isabella by the way!" "Y/N."

"Elvis I'm home!" A beaten up looking Russian Blue cat jumped at the sound of the front door opening. "Hey honey are you hungry~" Sitting her keys down Y/N picks up her beloved pet and walks him over to the kitchen.

The move wasn't awful since she didn't have much to unpack it only took a couple of hours. Elvis had gotten used to the new house already and even started exploring outside.

Y/N's life continues as dull as normal even with her late night runs to calm her mind before bed. Everyday seemed to be a repeat of the last. It had only been a week but it felt like a month. The shifts went by slow and her home time with Elvis went by fast.

As usual Y/N begins her day staring off into nothing while sitting in bed. A loud alarm jolts her out of her dazed state, she makes her way to the bathroom.

After doing her usual eyeliner to bring some attention to her e/c eyes instead of the ever darkening circles around her eyes.

The drive to work was the usual forty-five minutes filled with hard rock playing to keep her awake.

"Hey Isabella." Her voice was barely audible but her newly found friend understood her perfectly. "Hey hon how's it going?" The blonde sets an energy drink in front of Y/N as she drinks her own. "Since you're now working the early shift you get to meet the man, the myth, and the legend, Michael Myers and his little pal Dr. Loomis."

Y/N rolls her eyes while chugging her drink quickly. Tears prick her eyes from the carbonation, blinking them away she stands up and follows her friend.

"So he's the usual creep. He stares and stands there until you leave. He likes OJ and that's about all we know about him. Don't give him anything remotely sharp he has special silverware that will bend if he tries to stab anyone with it."

Y/N bites the inner part of her lip and Isabelle picks up on her silence. "You'll be fine. The man has got to eat." She says while handing her a tray. "Him and Dr. Loomis are in there." She uses her head to motion towards two doors.

"Go" Y/N gets pushed towards the double doors and gulps while the guards let her inside. Not saying a word she sets Michael's tray on the table. Y/N's eyes flicker towards the huge man and her breath escapes her. She'd briefly met eyes with the man in the mask.

"Thank you ma'am you may go. Now Michael can you look back at the picture please?"

A heavy feeling settled in Y/N's stomach, she'd always had a knack for feeling people's stares.

"Michael?... Michael!"

"Ma'am could you please come back here for a moment?"

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #x reader #fem reader #slasher x reader #halloween

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kel-is-here · 2 years ago

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Heya!! I'm Kel! I'm kinda just here to mess around a bit!

Dni if you are homophobic, transphobic, racist, MAP, sexist, other forms of queerphobic (aphobic, biphobic, etc)

I use he/it!!

Feel free to ask ab anything on your mind!! Let's all have fun together!!

[Ooc and blog rules under read more (please read before sending in asks!! /srs)]

Hey!! Mod goes by Alex or Kel!! I also use he/it lol

I didn't think I'd have to put this but MOD IS A FUCKING MINOR. MOD IS EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANY MENTIONS OF SEX.

Also no killing Kel!! If he's dead there won't be any blog left!!

No directly spoiling the Truth!

Okay we are officially in Solar System (kel/aubrey/basil/sunny) territory :3

This takes place ~a year or two after Mari's death

Ran by @alex-just-vibing !!

This will be pretty spoiler heavy, so be warned!!

There is no canon, but there have been a few things going on. For context, you can see the tags "death vs. life" for one of the things and "get this man a friend. even if it's some ten year old being payed to be here..."

Kind of an au at this point? Idrk tho lol

That should be it, have a nice day and please for the love of all that is holy do not drink orange joe

#woah! thoughts!! [in character post]#kel omori #huh?? [ooc/admin post]#gonna tag every organizational tag I'll use just to make them easier to find lol #hey there!! welcome!! [ask]#we all miss you... [mari tag (story heavy)]#flowerboy!! [basil tag!]#let's talk!! [reblog chain interaction]#cool stuff!! [reblog]#come out... please [sunny tag (story heavy)]#big brother!! [hero tag!]#strong willed and stubborn! [aubrey tag]#sorry... really. [aubrey tag (story heavy)]#whar?? [alex (mod) goofing around :3]#familiar... yet..? [omori tag]#get this man a friend. even if it's some ten year old being payed to be here...#song anon #basil-and-flowers #tales-of-a-wilted-sunflower #finally! a nice anon!#but he's doing better now..! it's fine!! [The Fight tag]#death anon #life anon #death vs. life #you're embarrassing me!! [mama tag!]#[ooc reblog]#everything is all good!! (no it is not) [“i'm fine” tag]#what are you doing here..? [ghost mari tag]#i genuinely don't know if this is an adoption or a kidnapping #why are there so many basils??? [stranger tag]

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insomniac4000 · 7 months ago

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If you Loved Me- A ChrisMD Fic

From my Wattpad

Sometimes if you love someone you have to let them go, you never understood that phrase until it came a point in your relationship with Chris that it was obvious it was no longer going to work. His channel was keeping him busier and busier and flights to the mainland were happening more frequently, it was only a matter of time until the question came up but you knew you couldn't go with him.

"But I've found a great flat, it's on the ground floor it has two bedrooms your mum can stay," Chris pleaded as he looked into your eyes, they were brimming with tears, this wasn't a journey you could go on. Your mother had been ill for as long as you could remember and she was only getting worse, degenerative diseases did that but she could live for another twenty years with round the clock care or she could die tomorrow, you couldn't leave her and couldn't ask her to leave her home. All the specialist equipment was set up for her here, she had a sister who would help, she had the carers she knew and recognised.

"You say it like it's easy. She can't get on a flight you know that." Your mum's muscle disease had now rendered her bed bound, she had been for six months now. There was no way to get her to the main island even she wanted to.

"We can find a way, boat? I'll pay for a private ambulance and then..." You cut him off, with your eyes flooded with tears you hugged Chris tightly before painstakingly pulling away, your heart ached, more than it had ever done before, more than when your dad left when you were ten. He couldn't hack it anymore, it had only been you and your mum since and it had to stay that way she needed you.

"Chris. This is your dream, not mine. I need to stay here I'm sorry," you whispered. Chris gasped sharply knowing what you were doing but wanted to fight it every step of the way. You had been together since you were fifteen, you were twenty four now these kind of romances were so few and far between.

"My dream is being with you."

"Don't. You've let me hold you back for this long, you need to go and I need to stay here. I love you but we're at a crossroads now and we've got different paths." You had always felt guilty every time Chris ended a shoot early or came back from the mainland early because there was an emergency with your mum. You couldn't do that to him anymore.

"Please don't do this," Chris whispered his eyed now spilling with tears, he grabbed your arms tightly but not to hurt you as he went to kiss you. You turned your head away and shook it, knowing if you kissed him you wouldn't be able to let him go and you had to. Instead you placed a kiss on his cheek and told him you loved him and you were proud of him for following his dreams. You turn turned on his heel and left his house, leaving a very heartbroken man standing in the doorway to his room.

Of course Chris did go, him being able to collaborate more only made his channel grew. In fact he ended up moving in with a couple of other content creators George Clarke and Arthur Hill with yours and Chris's old school friend Arthur Frederick not far away. The four collaborated a lot, along with some other people and whenever you got time you watched some of their videos. You tried to make a point not to watch him a lot, you still loved him and as much as this is what he needed to do it was hard to hear jokes about all the dates he went on.

The truth was Chris went on so many dates because he was desperately trying to find someone but no one matched up to you, every single woman was measured to you and none of them made the cut, he told himself he just had to keep looking.

He was currently making a video with Arthur, George, Harry and Theo when Arthur who was on his phone like usual gasped.

"Chris, Chris I think you need to come and see this," Arthur bellowed as loud as he could in his usually soft voice.

"Arthur I don't care about chess," Chris moaned as he dropped the football by his feet.

"Chris please." Arthur looked so serious that Chris couldn't help but run over, he looked at the screen and his face dropped when he saw a message from Arthur's mum saying that your mum had passed away. Chris got his phone out of his pocket and saw a similar message from his mum, with the additional info that the funeral would be Friday.

"What do I do?" Chris asked.

"What's happened?" Harry enquired, walking over to the Jersey pair.

"Y/N's mum's died." Arthur announced sadly, he then turned his attention back to the small man who was running his hands through his hair. "I think you need to go."

"You're right." Chris nodded, that smart little nerd was always right. Harry then placed an arm round his friend, along with Arthur he was the other person who knew how much that girl meant to him through his time visiting Chris and doing videos in Jersey.

Back in Jersey you were coping but only on the surface. The funeral arrangements were keeping you busy enough to stop yourself from losing it completely, to an observer you were doing very well getting your head down and organising everything. The truth was your mum had her wishes laid out years ago so you knew what to do. People who knew you a bit more noticed how quiet you were, Chris's mum came over with a cup of tea and a cake from your favourite bakery plus some home made pasta bake so you didn't have to worry about cooking. She was always sweet to you, even after the breakup if she saw you round the island she'd always stop for a quick chat, making a point to not mention her son as she knew you were hurting too.

It was the day before the funeral and you sat there in your living room, it was yours now but you didn't want it you just wanted her back. The doorbell went and you sighed before getting up from the cream sofa walking to the door, assuming it was someone checking in on you, your aunt or some more flowers you opened it not caring you were still in your PJ's at two o clock in the afternoon. There on the other side of the door was the only other person you had wanted to see again apart from your mum. You hated yourself for thinking about how good he looked, his hair was now natural and curly and he had sprouted now facial hair, it suited him. Completely forgetting you two hadn't spoken in two years you broke down into tears and fell into his open arms. He wrapped them around you as tightly as he could without hurting placing his head on yours as you sobbed into his shoulder.

"Shhh it's okay. I'm here now." Chris soothed, his voice sounded like angels singing it had been so long since you had heard it not being through a screen. Chris had arrived in Jersey that morning, he caught up with his mum who had told him the how and when's, suggesting that she could really do with a friend to speak to as her mum's health had worsened so much since Chris moved that you spent all of your time caring for her and most people your age had moved on with their own lives. He held you there for a few minutes until you calmed down and the cries turned to small sobs.

"Did you want a cup of tea?" Chris asked, you nodded only realising you had barely drunk anything that day, you weren't taking proper care of yourself, it was too easy to forget to eat, or drink, or change you looked down at your attire.

"Please. Sorry for the state of me."

"You never need to apologise for anything. Ever." Chris's words gave you some relief. Him letting you know that he wasn't mad at you for everything is all you ever wanted to know.

"Place hasn't changed much," Chris mused when the pair of you were sipping on your tea, he even bought out a pack of biscuits from one of the cupboards.

"Dunno what I'm going to do with it now, or with my life." The house belonged to your grandparents who, knowing their daughter was ill left it to her and she now in turn had left it to her daughter. All you have known for years is looking after your mum, you had a job in a book shop but it was part time, the owner knew you and your mother and was very understanding to your situation giving you time off and flexible hours. You would have gone to university but couldn't leave your mum, you put your life on hold for her which was why you wouldn't let Chris do the same for you. It took everything in Chris's power not to say to come back with him, now wasn't the time you needed him to be there and he was.

He sat next to you at the funeral, held your hand he looked up at you encouraging you to go on as you read the eulogy. He had his arm around you as you watched the coffin get lowered for the final time. He stayed in your spare room for three nights, making you breakfast every morning and dinner every evening until he had to go back to film.

"There is no pressure but it wanted a break you can come and see me," Chris offered before he left. You nodded and did think about it seriously, he called and messaged you every day to check in on you and after a month of you wallowing you decided to take him up on the offer messaging him back 'I think I'm ready for that little holiday.'

"Chris, there's another girl at the door for you!" Arthur Hill bellowed from the front door, George smacked the back of his head. In his conversations with Chris the past few weeks he knew you were different.

"I thought he was picking you up at the airport, he's just filming with..." George started to explain when Arthur and Chris came into view.

"It's so nice to see you again," Arthur smiled before bringing you into a hug.

"I got an earlier flight," you smiled at Chris and almost fling yourself into his arms, they felt so safe to be in.

"I feel like a right knob now making you lug that thing around across London."

"Oh it was no bother." You'd take anything to see Chris again sooner.

"So how long are you around for?" ArthurTV asked when you were all sat around the sofas with pizza later on that evening.

"I don't know, whenever I get fed up I guess, I just needed a break," you explained and Arthur nodded sadly. The expression on his face was the same look everyone else gave you, sadness, concern and pity. The only person who didn't look at you like that was Chris, he only had care in his eyes.

You had been to London a handful of times before but there was so much you wanted to see and Chris took you to everything. You laughed together, you cried together but you had realised how much this break was needed and how much better it made you feel but it got you thinking, was it the break or was it Chris? You stayed for three weeks but eventually life needs dealing with.

"I need to make sure the house is still standing at least," you explained to Chris as he watched you pack your bags.

"You can always come back whenever you want. Have my key! I'll get another one cut," Chris suggested and you couldn't help but laugh at his almost childlike optimism.

"You know I sit there in that house and I hate it. It's nothing but bad memories. It's her house, not mine and I just sit there and think about her, watching her deteriorate, thinking about all of the things I missed out on because I stayed."

"Like us?" Chris said softly. Up until now neither of them had bought up their past but Chris couldn't hold it in any longer, these past few weeks had taught him he wasn't prepared to let her go again, there was nothing stopping them this time.

"I had to," you reminded him and yourself. You still stand by what you did, it was the right thing to do at the time.

"I know. You're grieving I'm not going to be an arsehole and jump on you when you're down but. I never stopped loving you." Chris walked to you and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, it was something he often did before he kissed you and he did, it was very short but incredibly tender.

"I love you too." You whispered bringing him in for another kiss. Guess what they said was also true, absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

#chrismd #chris dixon #chrismd x reader #chrismd fic

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awfularachnid · 5 months ago

Text

VHS

Quackity/Reader||NSFW||TWs+Fic under cut

Read on AO3

Haiii everynyan

Drugged sex

Noncon/Dubcon if you squint

Choking

Sadism(?)

Quackity being all fucked up man idfk

Alexis always seemed to be the quiet type.

He didn’t really have friends, kept to himself huddled away in his own corner of the class you shared together, in the cafeteria he sat alone usually; always with his face buried in that green notebook. But frankly? You never really paid it any attention, in fact it took you three months into the year to even notice he existed.

It was a warm afternoon, your English teacher had announced a group project, and assigned everyone a random partner. You had the misfortune to be paired with Alexis. It took you a moment to grasp what he said, you scan the room endlessly, having no recollection of someone with that name in here. Until you notice him walking up to you that is.

He’s silent, doesn’t say a word as he settles across from you. Stringy strands of hair lay on his forehead, pressed down into his skin by a dark blue beanie. You seem to have a vague memory of the teacher getting angry for a while about the hat, but eventually just giving up. The hoodie he wears looks old, the once colorful design on the front mostly faded and worn, like the odd look he has in his eyes. Alexis is a strange guy; at least that’s your initial impression.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for an introduction, a hello, something. But he just sits there, fiddling with his pen and staring at the desk. It’s at this moment you realize he is going to be the most annoying person to work with. As the rest of your classmates chat, you and Alexis sit in silence for a little bit. Until eventually you decide you’ve waited for long enough and say hello, and introduce yourself.

He stares at you, still silent, and then nods. He goes back to fiddling with his pen. You groan; and silently wonder how you’ll ever get any work done this way, he’s so unwilling to participate it’s already getting on your nerves and you’ve known the guy for maybe ten minutes. No wonder he doesn’t seem to have any friends. If you weren’t being forced to, you wouldn’t have spent what little time you had with him.

But that was two months ago. Now, you’re sat on the sofa in Alexis’ basement and watching some old vhs tape the two of you had found in a box an hour or so prior. You aren’t really paying attention to it though, your mind is more focused on the soft buzz strumming through your bones, it seems to be emanating a tune. Alexis has it too, a soft buzz that seems to radiate from his body. His eyes are transfixed on the screen ahead of him, the tv is buzzing. No, wait, that’s you. Or is it Alexis? They all seem to merge in your crippled mind, the awful edges of where he ends and you start glow softly. Does it though?

Do they really glow? Or are you just struggling to keep your eyes focused? What had he given you… the name escapes your memory. He’d told you it would help take the edge off, you’d been stressed from some important test, you can’t even remember what class it was for now. The little tab he placed on your tongue certainly did its job. You’re smooth sailing across a sea of fluffy, musty couch cushions.

“Hey, you good?” He asks, it seems so distant though you hardly notice, then he snaps in your face a few times and that brings you back momentarily. “You alright, man?” You blink at him, he doesn’t look concerned. He looks… happy. Satisfied? Some unreadable expression seems to grow in intensity as you slowly nod at him. Your eyes squint as he shifts, and pulls his arm around your shoulder. He's tried this before and you’ve always brushed him away; and you certainly make an attempt to do so now, but your arms don’t seem strong enough.

“Stop…” you grumble out at Alexis, he grins at the tone of your voice which doesn’t seem to make any sense because you’re trying to sound frustrated. It’s to no avail though, he doesn’t care and gently pats your head with his other hand. You close your eyes and soak in the feeling. Why were you trying to sound mad? Doesn’t matter, not while two fingers slip underneath your chin and pull you towards his face.

‘Alexis smells like cigarettes’ you think for a moment, before the thought is replaced with ‘Alexis tastes like cigarettes’ as he kisses you, soft and sweet. You’re not really sure what you expected from his kisses, but it wasn’t soft and sweet. He wasn’t soft and sweet in the slightest.

His tongue slips into your slightly ajar mouth, and runs across your teeth of all things. It seems odd before you remember his affinity for teeth, the small jar he had by his bed is full of them. That doesn’t feel important now though, especially because he’s sliding his hand up your shirt. Alexis’ fingers roam across your skin, and between kisses you hear him talk about how soft it is, how soft you are and how well you’re doing. None of it registers, the only thought on your mind is getting him off of you, but it feels like the harder your hands push against his chest, the further you sink into the sofa.

He pushes you down, down into the cushions and into your untimely demise. “You don’t have a clue,” he starts, finally pulling away from your mouth, a thin string of spit connecting your lips. “How badly I need this… just relax, okay?” His voice is barely above a whisper, like he’s scared the walls of the basement are gonna soak up his words and repeat them to someone. Like they’ll tell someone what he’s done. God knows you won’t.

You don’t even reply, words don’t even form. He doesn’t care to listen anyways, doesn’t care about how you’d behave if you were sober right now. Not that he’s sober himself… maybe that’s why he’s doing this. Or maybe you were just too stupid to realize this was his plan all along. A shiver runs down the back of your neck as he squeezes your breasts, too rough to feel genuinely pleasurable. Not that any of this is really pleasurable.

His mouth moves down your body slowly, dodging your crumpled up shirt that’s currently bunched above your tits, and sucks a dark purple mark into the skin of sternum. He does it again, and again, and again until he grows bored, leaving you decorated in bruises of various sizes. You groan when he finally pulls back, relieved to have that over with. However the relief is short lived as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, and swirls his tongue around it languidly.

You can’t hold in the whimper that escapes your throat as much as you try. With your back arching off the sofa you push your chest into his face even further, he groans and vibrations send chills down your spine. “Alexis…” you’re not sure why his name leaves your mouth, but it does and it only seems to egg him on. He sucks a bit harder, and bites gently on the delicate flesh, which you don’t quite understand as he’s already left you covered in hickies.

“So cute… fuck you’re so cute.”

“So sweet.”

“So pretty for me.”

“So good for me”

The words don’t process and all you hear is a jumble of noises, shuffling clothes and a sudden rush of cold air hitting your lower body. Then… something. Something unfathomably warm runs across your cunt. Your eyes open again, and you gaze down at Alexis. He’s on his knees between your thighs, rubbing the pre-cum slicked tip of his dick across your lips. He’s muttering something to himself, or maybe to you. It reminds you of some prayer, but you can’t quite place it.

“I’m so sorry, you —- understand —— you have —-“ You blink at him, and rub your eyes, confused as words seem to slip out of the bounds of reality. He looks desperate, it’s the only word you can conjure to describe his expression. Desperately stroking himself, desperately praying, desperately sucking in gasps of air between moans. For a second you feel bad for him. For a second.

Then he begins to push his cock in you, one hand holding your hips in place and the other guiding the length into you. He hisses out pleas of mercy to whatever God he may believe in, and possibly to you as well. In that moment, every ounce of sympathy you’d ever felt for him vanishes, and you’re suddenly looking at a shell of a person.

“God, oh my God you’re so tight-“ Alexis moans, and pushes himself deeper into you, until he’s fully engulfed by your aching walls. He sighs, as if the hard part is over. The only thing you can conjure up are whimpers, it’s been easy to ignore the pain, but now he’s just staring you down, eyes flickering between your own and his cock buried inside you. The ache between your legs grows steadily, your pussy contracts around him and his dick twitches and you feel fucking ill.

It only gets worse, the hard part is over but only for him, and he knows it. Alexis pulls out slowly, and then rocks his hips forward, testing the waters. Clearly, the waters are treating him well. Some sound hardly recognizable as his voice leaves his throat, leaving Alexis flushed and embarrassed looking. It doesn’t stop him though, his hips continue pumping into you, finding a steady and slow rhythm, igniting every nerve in his body for the better, and every nerve in yours for the worse.

A quiet slap of skin fills the room, mostly covered by that hum in your brain. What isn’t at all covered are Alexis’ groans, his whimpers and heavy breathing. You can’t decide what sound is worse and more disturbing. “You feel even better than I thought you would, fuck, this was worth it.” Your stomach ties itself in knots. You whimper, and grab onto his sofa as tightly as you can, in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

“Take… it out.” You finally manage. Alexis doesn’t stop. In fact, that only seems to make the problem worse. He lets out a low moan and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, and begins to fuck into you faster. His grasp on your hips tighten, holding you as still as he can, and pulling you back onto his cock as he thrusts in. “Yes- fuck yes. Beg for me, baby.” He gasps, and his eyes connect with yours again. You hope for a second you’d see something. Some regret, something bad. But all you see is joy, a sick man taking all he can from you.

Finally, you snap; and tears begin to roll down your flushed cheeks. Again, it only seems to excite him further, your pain and misery make him twitch and ache inside you. “Getting me so close, you’re doing so good for me..” your eyes shut again. You try your hardest to pretend this isn’t happening, that you’re somewhere else. But the rough slap on Alexis’ hips against yours makes it difficult.

You feel his hold on you tighten for a moment, before one hand leaves your hip, and grasps at your throat; and you wonder if this is it. If this is how you die. With Alexis’ throbbing dick slamming in and out of you, tears caked on your face. Your hands move without thought, and they try their hardest to pull his hand away, loosen his fingers, something, anything, so you can breathe.

To no avail. His grip only gets tighter, and the air in your lungs slowly depletes. Your vision becomes hazy, and his gasps and moans seem distant. Until suddenly, his hand loosens and you can breathe, but at what cost? His hips stutter, and what were once rough and steady thrusts have become quick and sloppy. You feel a warmth unlike something you’ve felt before dribble into your body.

Alexis was always the quiet type. He never really had friends and frankly, you wish it had stayed that way.

#wowiw haiii #been a sec #heres a post #poppytwt #💐blr #💐twt #poppyblr #quackity x reader #dddne #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

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bbymunsonx · 5 months ago

Text

The Last Time (Ted's Version)

Chapter Ten

chapter warnings: language, ANGST, violence, abuse, smut(!!!), piv, oral (f), ted lasso is an aftercare king bc obvi (18+)

word count: 5.8k

buckle up ;)

"Julian?"

"You know, when I had to hear from my friends that you had taken a job with my coaches and moved across the Atlantic, I didn't think it was true. I thought to myself, 'Now, why would Lacy do that? Lacy is the kind of girl that's too scared to do anything. She'd be too scared to leave.' But here you are." Julian smirked, as he could sense that I was scared. He always could.

"What- what are you doing here?" I asked.

"Just thought I'd pay a trip to see my girlfriend. I missed you so much," He grabbed his face with his hands and harshly planted an open kiss right on my lips. It was like he was trying to mark his territory. That's how he always felt with me.

Just then, Ted's door swung open and he peaked his head out, "Is everything alright, Lace-." He immediately stopped when he realized what was happening. "Julian."

"Coach Lasso! How's it going, man?" Julian reached out to fist bump Ted but he didn't budge. He just kept his eyes on me.

"Remember that movie we're gonna go see, we have to leave now if we're gonna make it in time," Ted said on the fly, coming up with an excuse to get Julian to leave.

"Wait a second," Julian's gaze went from Ted to me to Ted to me. "Are you fucking this old man?" My blood ran cold, once again. I could take his abuse, I have for years. But I couldn't stomach him being mean to Ted, even if I was angry with him.

"No, Julian. He's not my boyfriend. You are. I only love you." I grabbed Julian's face to make him look at me, taking the heat off of Ted. Julian shook out of my grip and went walking over to Ted.

"I used to like you. I thought you were a great coach. But then you steal my girlfriend away from me, and then you fuck her?" Julian's voice started to raise.

"Julian, I understand why you are frustrated, okay? But Lacy here and I are just co-workers. Nothing more. She really loves you. I can tell." Ted nodded at Julian to try to get him to listen.

Julian grabbed Ted by the collar of his shirt, "If I hear that you even talk to her, I will kick your fucking ass, old man, do you understand me? Besides," Julian got closer to Ted's ear, "Only I will ever know the sounds she makes right before she's about to-."

"Leave him alone!" I interjected and pulled Julian off of Ted. I have never even thought about doing something like that, but Ted is such an innocent guy. He doesn't deserve to be treated like this.

"What's going on?" Coach Beard finally whipped his head out of his flat, probably because Julian was being so loud.

"You fucking bitch, did you just touch me? Did you touch me?" Julian spit at me. He started slowly walking toward me, trying to corner me against the wall. "Remember, you're a fucking good for nothing slut. You'd be nowhere if it weren't for me. I'm the only reason why you are where you are and I want you to remember that for the rest of your miserable fucking life." I flinched with every word that he threw at me.

Julian moved closer to my ear and whispered, "You will always be mine. I own you." Julian punched the wall causing the drywall to crumble, inches away from my face.

"You know what I think, Julian?" For some reason, Ted and Beard being here made me feel safe enough to be able to say this, and if I don't say it now, I never will. "I think you're an insecure little boy who feels threatened by your girlfriend leaving you to go work with two men. Two men that you always admired. You will never be half the man that Ted is, and you should feel fucking ashamed. You are an abusive piece of shit and you don't own anything. We are fucking over."

If looks could kill, Ted, Beard, and I would all be dead on the floor. I feared that if Ted and Beard weren't here, Julian would actually kill me. But, to give the final blow, I leaned into his ear and whispered, "You wanna talk to Ted about that 'little sound I make right before I finish'? You've never made me finish a fucking day in my life, you selfish asshole." I smirked to myself knowing that what I just said had just tipped him over the ledge.

"You fucking cunt," I swore at me. My eyes widen as I noticed him wind his fist back. He was gonna hit me. He always hit me, threw me into furniture, and pushed me around. He never actually "punched" me in the face. He always said he was too much of a gentleman. And now, now, he's going to punch me. As his fist was winded back, I closed my eyes, preparing for the blow. Suddenly, Ted grabbed both of his hands and held them behind his back, restraining him.

Coach Beard walked up to Julian as he was restrained and said, "You know, I never liked you," before knocking him unconscious. When Julian landed on the ground, I let out a giant exhale my legs gave out, sending me to the floor.

Completely ignoring Julian just laying on the ground, Ted came rushing over to me on the floor similarly to how I helped Ted when he had his panic attack. He took my face in his hands and looked me right in the face, "Lacy, breathe, baby, you gotta breathe." I looked up at him and just nodded, slowly down my breaths.

"I'm gonna call the police. Do you want me to call Keeley and Rebecca?" Coach Beard asked. I could only nod. Coach Beard stepped away to go use his phone while Ted and I remained on the floor.

"I'm gonna go see if Beard needs help making those calls," Ted went to get up but I immediately just grabbed his hand.

"No. Please don't leave me." My voice shook. Ted immediately knelt back down and sat right next to me to the point where are legs were flushed against one another.

"Alright, Lacy Loo. I'm not going anywhere. You might get a bit annoyed in a day or two but just remember you asked for this." He tried to joke with me and it actually made me laugh. Technically, I just blew air out of my nose but it's the thought that counts.

I leaned my head on Ted's shoulder and interlocked out fingers together while we both sat on the floor waiting for the police to come.

***

The police arrive within ten minutes and Keeley and Rebecca arrived within fifteen minutes. By the time the girls arrived, Julian had already been taken away by the police. One of the woman police officers knelt down on the floor to talk to me about what happened. After taking notes, she nodded and promised he wouldn't be an issue anymore.

As soon as Rebecca and Keeley arrived, they switched spots with Ted and sat next to me. "When I got divorced, I had to absolutely best lawyers money could buy. I'll send them over your way, of no cost of course." Rebecca said as she took my hand.

"Rebecca, I can't do that." I shook my head vigorously.

"I knew you were going to say that. That's why I already made the phone call on my way here." She smiled down at me. "He's not going to hurt you anymore. I promise you that. We'll have a restraining order drawn up before the sun rises."

"I made a couple phone calls to some people, myself. I actually know some real shady people so let's see if the prick is even alive by the time your lawyers get to him. I had to talk Roy out of killing him himself," Keeley said causing me to smile.

The three of us sat on the ground while Ted and Coach Beard were talking to the police officers outside.

"So, they're taking him in," Ted came in and told us. "I wouldn't worry about him for right now. You're safe." Ted smiled down at me.

"Babes, do you wanna stay the night with me? I don't think you should be alone." Keeley offered.

"Ya know, she could stay with me." Ted suggested. "That way all of her stuff is here so that's one less thing she's gotta worry about."

"Thank you, Keeley, but I think I'll stay with Ted." I shot her a guilty smile which made her smile.

"You got it." She kissed my forehead.

When I finally mustered enough strength to stand up, Rebecca and Keeley so I could get some rest. Ted helped me make a trip up to my flat to get some of the essentials I needed for the night to get settled into his flat.

"Here, you can sleep in my bed and I'll sleep on the couch, alright?" Ted put all of my stuff down on the bed.

"Ted, you're already opening your home for me, I can't ask for you to give up your bed, too. I'll sleep on the couch." I took my stuff off the bed and handed it back to Ted.

"Absolutely not," Ted put my belongings back on the bed, "Mama Lasso would fly all the way over here and kick my buttocks if she knew I let you sleep on the couch. You're taking the bed, end of discussion."

I smiled, "Okay. Do you mind if I take a quick shower? I just feel...icky."

"Of course. I'll get everything set up for you." Ted disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. "Alright I put your shower products in there, a towel, a washcloth, and a toothbrush. I think that should be everything."

"Thank you, Ted." I smiled and patted him on the shoulder before walking behind him, into the bathroom.

I took my time in the shower, making sure to scrub every inch of my body. Every single inch that Julian might have ever touched. Every single inch that Julian offended and claimed as his own. My body belongs to me and only me.

After my shower, I saw Ted's Chief's t-shirt and a pair of my pajama bottoms on the bed. On top of the t-shirt was a note that said, "The only Kansas football player worthy of our time is Travis Kelce... no one else (don't worry, it's clean) - Ted" . I smiled to myself before putting on the t-shirt. It was extremely oversized, but it made me feel safe.

I walked into the kitchen to see Ted making Rebecca her biscuits. Before he realized I was standing there, I giggled to myself as I heard the faint sound of Taylor Swift coming from his phone, and the faintest sound of the lyrics stumbling from his lips.

"So you're a secret Swiftie, huh?" I smirked. He jumped as he realized I was there.

"Geez Louise. You'll give me a heart attack." Ted placed his hand over his heart. "It's just a playlist of all the hits. Of course Ms. Taylor Swift's gonna be on there."

"Uh huh." I didn't believe him. "So you're gonna tell me you weren't singing along just now? This song isn't even a single." I laughed.

"Excuse me, "Dancing with our Hands Tied" is one of my favorites." Ted scoffed.

"You're definitely a Swiftie, Ted. Only Swifties know that song," I laughed, hoisting myself on the counter. I immediately took one of the big spoons that Ted was using to bake and used it as a pretend microphone as I started singing along with the song. I gave Ted the spoon back, but not to bake, but to sing the following lyrics. He knew every single word. We were in our own little word, I had almost completely forgot the events that took place tonight.

I could spend all night sitting on this counter singing Taylor Swift, but I was just getting so tired,"I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

"Alright, let me know if there's anything you need alright?" Ted's eyes softened, to which I nodded.

"Goodnight, Ted."

"Goodnight, sugar." He said softly to the bag of sugar he was using to bake, "Oh yeah, goodnight to you too, Lacy."

I rolled my eyes and laughed as I walked over to his bedroom.

***

"Lacy! Lacy you're dreaming! Wake up, honey! You gotta get up!" I heard in my sleep as my body started shaking. I woke up with a gasp, my scream filling the dark room. "You're okay. You're alright. Come here." Ted took my body into his grasp, holding me tight.

"What happening?" I asked, completely oblivious as to what happened.

"I was sleeping and I just heard you screaming. It seems like you were having a really bad nightmare. Does this happen often?" Ted asked as he stroked my hair.

My head hung down, "No. This hasn't happened since I was with Julian. It stopped a few months ago."

"Well, you're alright now, okay? Try to get some sleep." Ted went to get up before I grabbed his arm.

"Please. Please stay." I whimpered, almost mirroring the same conversation we had earlier in the night.

"Are you sure? I don't have to," Ted was apprehensive at first.

"I don't wanna be alone." I softly said making Ted nod. I scooched over, making room for Ted on the bed. I laid back down on my back, the same as Ted. The two of us staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep.

It wasn't until Ted had inched his hand over to mine, and interlaced his pinky with mine. That alone made me feel the safest I've felt in months, easing me to sleep right away.

***

Three days after the incident, Keeley had sent me a screenshot of an article written by Trent Crimm in "The Independent". The headline read "American Tourist Killed in Jail Incident".

Keeley Jones: Told you.

I didn't even have to read the article. I knew all that I had to know and it made my heart feel more at ease. Ted still wouldn't let me stay in my flat. We had made a deal that he'd let me move back into my flat when I stopped waking up in the middle of the night screaming. That could be never, but he didn't care. He just didn't want me alone.

It's been five days since Julian was killed and I still can't get my night terrors under control. Ted and I were sitting on the couch, on opposite ends of course, having a drink and watching a movie. Both of us were in our pajamas, comfortable. But the alcohol created some tension in the air.

I got up from the couch to go back to the kitchen to get another drink. Suddenly, the alcohol gave me the courage to say, "Can I ask you something a little personal?"

"Yeah, of course." He looked over at me.

"Are you in love with Sassy?" I asked as I leaned against the counter.

"Why would you think I was in love with Sassy?" He seemed genuinely confused.

"Because you had sex with her." Ted jumped off the couch as I responded.

"Um, how do you know I slept with Sassy?" He asked, his eyes widening.

"I went to your room that night, just to ask how you were doing after everything that happened at karaoke. And let's just say that you're very vocal when you have sex. Also, I guess you forgot my room was right next to yours." I laughed.

"Jesus Christ, Lacy, I'm-I'm so sorry. I didn't know you could hear all... all that." Ted apologized.

"You don't have to apologize, Ted. I was just wondering if you loved her."

Ted laughed. "No, I don't love her. I was just upset and she was there. She's a great woman, but no, I don't love her." I hoisted myself up on the counter and sighed as he said that. "Why do you seem like you're relieved?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Why would I possibly be relieved? Remember, I told you I liked Jamie." I smirked.

"You never told me you liked Jamie, you just told me that you were upset that he left. Actually, since you asking me if I loved Sassy solely because I had sex with her, I guess it's only fair if I ask you if you're in love with Jamie?"

"Ted, don't be silly, of course I'm not in love with Jamie." I said. Ted started to walk closer to me, slowly.

"Well, I, for one am relieved." Ted jokingly sighed a breath of relief.

"Why are you possibly relieved?" I chucked.

"I think you deserve to be with a real man that'll treat you well. And Jamie is not that man." Ted continued to walk closer to me.

"You never know. Jamie is starting to change for the better. But I guess we'll never know now that he's gone," I laughed.

"Lacy," Ted said seriously. I raised my eyebrows at him, showing him I was listening, intently. "Are you in love with anyone?" He furrowed his eyebrows at me, his eyes beginning to soften.

"That's a loaded question, Coach Lasso. I think I may have to take this up with HR." I laughed as Ted moved as close as he possibly could, my legs instantly widening so he could stand in between them.

"Panda." Ted said through lowered eyelids, his glance moving from my lips to my eyes. I'll always giggle at the idea of a grown man saying 'panda' to me. I should've picked a sexier word.

"I'm in love with you, Ted." My eyebrows furrowed as those words fell out of my mouth. I couldn't lie anymore. Not to him or myself. Even though I'd love to blame it on the alcohol, the adrenaline of Ted standing between my legs made me feel completely sober. "I should've said it before, but I'm in love with you, Theodore Lasso. I've been in love with you since the first time I saw you. I love you so much it hurts." I grabbed his face in my hands and stroked his cheek with my thumb, causing him to shut his eyes.

"Please... say something." I continued.

"Lacy Watson, you are the most perfect woman that I have ever met in my entire life. I've loved you for so long and I'm so sorry that I made you think that I didn't. It sickens me how much love I have for you. Could you forgive me?" Ted raised an eyebrow at me.

"I think you need to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness," I joked around, being facetious. Ted instantly got on his knees right in front of me, still leaving me sat on top of the counter.

"I remember on the flight over here, you told me you liked Taylor Swift and South Park. Every time I bake Rebecca her biscuits, I like to turn on Taylor Swift because it makes me feel like you're with me. You caught me the other night and I lied to you because I was embarrassed, but it's true. I love Taylor Swift because I love you. And every time I fall asleep at night, I turn on South Park in hopes that it'll somehow bring me closer to you. That's how much I love you." Ted said while looking up at me through glossy eyes.

"Stand up, Teddy," I whispered to him. I quickly batted away the tears that started to form in my eyes.

"Yes ma'am," he responded, but this time, his voice sounded way lower and had much more of a southern drawl to it.

Ted rose to meet me at eye level, his gaze still flickering between my lips and my eyes. His eyes were glossed with inexplainable longing. I needed him and I needed him now.

Ted lowered his head several inches until his lips were mere centimeters away from mine. He left his lips hovering for a second, and before I knew it, he pressed his lips onto mine. He started slowly at first, not knowing how I was going to react, but he didn't know how much I truly needed him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer. The feeling of his mustache on my sensitive skin was even better than I imagined. As he started kissing me with more passion, I opened my mouth slightly to welcome his tongue. I squealed as soon as I felt his tongue, feeling pleasantly surprised by the feeling. Ted pulled away for a second, it felt like the worst second of my entire life.

"Uh oh, seems like I'm not the only one that's loud during sex," Ted taunted.

"Oh, shut up," I scoffed and pulled him back to me. His lips were ravenous against my mouth, then traveled down to my neck and my collar bone. Every time he suck on my neck resulted in a desperate moan escaping my mouth.

Suddenly, all of my clothes felt way too tight. My nipples strained in my tank top, it was almost painful. I groaned in frustration. I just wanted to rip all my clothes off.

"What is it, baby?" Ted raised his head from my neck to meet my face, sending my frustration full force.

"I need you, I need you now." I whined. Without question, Ted lifted me off of the counter, both of his hands flushed against my ass. My legs were wrapped around his waist as he tried to walk us to the bedroom. I wasted no time reattaching his lips to mine while grinding my core onto his obvious boner that was showing through his grey sweatpants.

"Darlin', if you keep doing that I'm gonna bust in my pants before we even make it to the bedroom." Ted whispered in between kisses. As he was talking, I kissed a trail up and down his neck.

"You better walk faster then, old man," I taunted, still peppering his neck in kisses. Ted rushed his pace and got us into the bedroom, gently placing me down on his bed. I inched up until I was flush against the headboard.

I laid down while he started to climb up my body and started layering kisses all over my neck and face. "Mmm you're so beautiful, darlin'," Ted yearned in between kisses.

Ted attached himself to my lips for a few more seconds before he started making his way down further. Thankfully, I didn't wear a bra tonight but my tank top was still way too much fabric. Ted started with sucking on my neck, then sucking on my collar bone, causing me to whimper. This man was such a tease.

My nipples were rock hard and strained against the fabric of my tank top. As Ted was focused on on my collar bone, I snuck a hand underneath by tank top and slowly started to tug on my right nipple to relieve some of the pressure.

Ted stopped kissing me for a minute and pulled away, looking down at me. "I'm sorry? Am I not good enough for you?" he joked while pulling my hand out from underneath my shirt.

"Ted," I whined. "Please."

"Please what?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Touch me," I continued to whine.

"Have I not been touching you this entire time?" He dragged a finger down my neck, down my collar bone, and right onto my tits. His fingers trailed both tits, intentionally not touching my nipples. He wanted to hear me say it first.

"I need you to fuck me, Ted," I groaned.

"Yes, ma'am," He nodded. That's all it took for him to hook his fingers around the bottom of my tank top and yanking it over my head. I laid underneath him, with no tank top on and no bra. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated at the sight of me bare beneath him. "Christ," he whispered before leaning down and taking one of my nipples in his mouth. That's all it took for me to become a whimpering mess. He swirled his tongue around my peaked nipples, slowly, making sure he was taking his time.

"Fuck, Ted," I whined as he continued to suck on my nipples, making sure he was paying equal attention to both. When his mouth was latched to one, his thumb and forefinger worked on the other one, and vice versa. My arms were littered with goosebumps as my body was overtaken my pure pleasure. I arched my nipple into his mouth, chasing the warm heat.

After he was done, Ted kissed his way down my stomach, taking his time and making sure every part of me was accounted for. As he laid between my legs, he looked up at me to get visible consent to continue. I frantically nodded and he laced his fingers under my shorts before yanking them down.

I was wearing a pair of one of my nice lacy, black underwear tonight. I continued to pinch my nipples as Ted sucked on the inside of my thighs. As Ted worked his way to my core, went to pull my underwear down before I suddenly tightened up. "Wait a second!"

"What's wrong? Are you okay? We can stop if you want," Ted looked extremely worried.

"Ted, I think I would actually kill you if you stopped right now. I just, I've never," I motioned to him in between my legs and then motioned in between my legs. I was so embarrassed that I covered my face.

"No one's ever eaten you out before?" He quirked an eyebrow at me. I shook my head.

"He always said it was gross. He always expected me to do the work," I groaned. Ted scoffed.

"I don't have to if you don't want me to. But," Ted paused for a minute, "I'd absolutely love to."

I slowly removed my hands from my face, "Yeah?" I questioned, this time I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Baby, I wanna make you feel good. Do you you trust me?" He continued to rub my thighs to get me out of my head.

"Absolutely," I smiled.

"So just lay back and let me make you feel good," Ted smirked. I took a deep breath and laid on my back. I raised my hips a bit in order to help Ted get my underwear off. From the top of the bed, I could hear his breath shudder at the sight of my bare pussy.

He planted kisses all over my thighs, but instead of stopping this time, he placed a kiss right on top of my pussy, causing me to let out an elongated whine.

"Wow, just one touch and you're already whining for me," Ted cockily said into my core. I couldn't even speak so I just moaned in agreement.

He extended his tongue and licked a long strip from my core right to my clit. Between the warm, wetness from his tongue and the harsh contact of his mustache on my clit, my back immediately arched off of the bed.

As his tongue kept sucking on my clit, he slipped one finger inside of me, thrusting it in and out.

"Mmm, Teddy, you feel so good." I moaned.

"I can feel you clenching around my fingers darlin'." Ted lifted his face from my pussy to joke around, but if he pulled away one more time I was going to start sobbing. I tugged on his hair and forced it back in between my legs. The second I pulled on his hair, Ted let out a whine. I'll have to remember that.

As his tongue became more hectic on my clit and his fingers pumped even faster, I inadvertently started to grind on his face.

I had suddenly remembered the night of the gala, when I had gotten home and touched myself to the exact thought of this. The reality is so much better than I had imagined.

As I was getting closer to finishing, I hooked my ankles around his neck and interlaced my fingers in his hair, making sure he didn't move.

"Teddy, I'm gonna, I'm gonna come." I whined.

"It's alright, darlin'. Come on my face," Ted whispered. That's all it took for the cord in my lower belly to let go as I came all over Ted's face.

"Fuuuuck," I breathlessly groaned as I rode out my high on Ted's face. His face stayed still, lapping up every last drop of me. He looked up at me, his eyes completely filled with lust, with my come dripping off of his mustache. His hair had become messy and was flopped over his forehead. It was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I pulled him back up to the top of the bed and immediately latched my mouth onto him.

Correction, tasting myself on him was the hottest thing.

I reached the bottom of his white T-shirt and pulled it over his head. I sat myself back so I could take in the sight of him. His broad shoulders. His dad-bod. The little trail of hair that lead underneath his pants. He was perfect.

"Jesus Christ, Teddy." I groaned as I pulled him back to my mouth. As we continued to sloppily make out, I trailed my hands down his broad chest, down his stomach, and cupped him through his pants. "Do you want me to-" I looked down at his growing boner.

"There's nothing I'd love more than your pretty little mouth on my cock, but I don't think I'd last two seconds." Ted cringed at himself as he spoke, causing me to giggle.

"Next time, then," I smiled.

He kissed me for a few more seconds before he took off his grey sweatpants and his boxers. This man was huge, I thought to myself. But I didn't want anything more. My mouth practically watered at the sight of his throbbing cock in front of me. As he reattached his mouth onto mine, I quickly wrapped my leg around his, flipping us over so I was on top of him.

"Is this okay?" I asked him, wanting to make sure he was still okay.

Ted cupped my face, "Absolutely, darlin'. Can you reach over to my nightstand and grab a condom real quick?"

I smirked at him for a second before reaching over and grabbing a condom. "Did you hope this would be happening, Coach Lasso?"

"If you call me Coach Lasso I'm gonna bust before I even get to fuck ya," Ted strained.

"That's what does it for you?" I laughed while ripping the wrapping off of the condom and rolling it onto his throbbing cock.

I interlocked my arms around Ted's neck as I gave myself leverage so I could slowly start to lower myself on his cock. His eyes immediately snapped shut and his breathing started to shake. He moved his hands to my hips so he could control how I move. My breath immediately hitched as I felt like he was going to split me into two.

"Jesus, fuck, baby, you're so tight." Ted groaned, with his eyes still shut.

"I'm not gonna move until you look at me, Teddy." I smirked, making his eyes start to flutter open. I sank down a little bit more, still getting used to the length.

My mouth hung open, not even making any noise. I was so overtaken by the feeling of being full that my body couldn't do anything.

After letting my pussy become accustomed to Ted, Ted groaned while looking down at us, "You got all of me, darlin'."

That's when I began to move. Ted held my hips in place as I started to circulate my hips. I leaned down to kiss Ted, and the two of us just ended up whimpering into each others mouths.

As I sped up my pace, Ted tried to keep his mouth latched to mine to stop me from screaming, "You gotta keep quiet, baby. You don't want Beard hearing us, do you?" Ted whimpered.

"The whole city of Richmond could hear us for all I care. I want this entire city to know how fucking good you feel." I whimpered into Ted's mouth.

"Fuck, Lace," Ted moaned into my mouth. There was just something about hearing Ted curse that almost made me come itself. "I'm almost there."

"Me too, baby," I let out a drawn out gasp. As soon as I said that, Ted reached out and used his thumb to rub circles around my sensitive clit. That completely sent me over the edge. "Fuck, Ted. I'm gonna-I'm-"

"Come with me, baby. That's it. Good girl," Ted whimpered as he could feel me clench around him. The both of us reaching our highs at the same exact time. I continued to whimper as I rode out my high, placing my forehead on Ted's forehead. Our incredibly sweaty foreheads instantly latching to one another.

Ted slowly pulled out of me, causing me to roll over and fall onto my back, completely out of breath. I covered my face with my hands, immediately getting nervous about laying in Ted's bed naked. He must've sensed my apprehension as he almost instantaneously covered me with his sheet.

"I'll be right back, darlin'," he whispered while kissing me on the forehead. After a moment, he comes back into the room with his boxers back on and a warm washcloth in his hands.

"Can I?" He asked while he motioned the washcloth in between my legs.

I could've almost sobbed. No man has ever done this for me, ever. "Of course, Teddy." I smiled. My heart was so full.

Ted used the washcloth to help clean me up. He even took his time since he knew I was still sensitive. He got up from the bed to grab me my tank top and a pair of his boxers to wear. After I used the bathroom, I got dressed and giggled at myself in the mirror. I looked so sexed out.

I walked back into the bedroom and my heart beamed at the sight of Ted laying in bed with his grey sweatpants and his white t-shirt back on. His back was pressed up against the headboard as he channel surfed, looking for my favorite show. He patted the spot next to him on the bed. I flopped down on the bed and nuzzled myself in his arms.

"Here we go!" He exclaimed as he put on South Park, smiling down at me.

"Ya know, you don't have to watch this now if you don't want to. You've already got me, Teddy." I looked up at him.

"Actually, I don't mind. I've gotten used to it. It's actually a really good show," he laughed. As my eyes started to flutter shut, Ted must've thought I had fallen asleep since he leaned down to kiss me on the forehead before whispering, "Goodnight, my love."

That was the first night in over a week where I slept through the entire night.

authors note: there we have it folks!!!! julians dead and ted & lacy finally fucked! the end!! (jk im just getting started hehe) but this is the first time ive literally ever written smut so I hope its okay!!

taglist: @nerdgirljen

#jason sudeikis #rebecca welton #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #apple tv #jamie tartt #leslie higgins #roy kent #sam obisanya #ted lasso x oc

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c-is-for-circinate · 4 months ago

Text

MCU Rewatch #1: IRON MAN

General Impressions: Yes, good, it holds up, thank god.

I want to write ten thousand words of meta about how this movie redefined the superhero genre of its day. I had to cut this post down SO MUCH, guys, you don't even know.

Not only is it still really entertaining, there is enough in this movie to be really worth picking apart. It's a fascinating entrant into this whole marathon, because as the first movie, it doesn't have anything else in the franchise to fall back on. This was a standalone shot in the dark, an attempt to make a blockbuster out of a superhero nobody had heard of and a washed-up actor who'd last been notable as a random love interest on Ally McBeal. It had to stand on its own merits, no greater universe to buoy it up, and it did.

I am going to have to write a separate post about the things that Iron Man promised us for this franchise, and how the rest of the MCU did or did not deliver. Damnit.

The Hero: Tony Stark is a fascinating guy.

Iron Man does a really good job of embracing him as a flawed disaster of a man who's a victim of his own good fortune: this guy is both the smartest and the richest man in very nearly every room he's ever been in, and it has made him a mess.

His emotional journey is believable and clearly shown. Tony flips his entire life upside down to go from arms dealer to superhero, except the whole movie makes it very clear that literally every step of the way he's being impossibly, inescapably himself with it. The man who doesn't give a shit about his very prestigious award is the same man who doesn't give a shit about his stock prices tanking or weapons dev being the entire foundation of his company. Part of why it works so well for Tony to out himself as Iron Man at the end of the movie is because in every possible way, they're the same guy -- ostentatious, flamboyant, dramatic, incredibly intense about some things and super blase about others, obsessive, superhuman on the skin and very human underneath.

Compared to brooding Christopher Nolan Batman or the pressures and anxieties of Sam Raimi Spiderman, both of whom are constantly preoccupied with questions of Good and Evil, Tony feels like a creature from a completely different genre. It's effective, unique, and well-carried by the movie.

The Villain: Pretty solid!

Obadiah Stane is a well-executed foil to Tony, which is exactly what this movie needs. He's contained and responsible where Tony's wild. He's respectable. And yet, so much of this movie is about complacency. Tony was too busy being a playboy bouncing off the walls to pay attention to who his fortune and his company hurt. Obie paid attention to all of it, and decided he didn't care. The movie ends up saying some interesting things, this way, about carelessness vs. callousness. Tony and Obie working together destroyed a lot of lives, but carelessness can be fixed, if you're smacked in the face with what you've done. Obie looked the man he half-raised in the face and tried to murder him in person when the hands off method failed.

The bit where this sixty-something-year-old multimillionaire businessman decided that what he really needed to do to secure his fortune and future, was personally get in the robotic suit and try to kill Tony himself? That's definitely leaning into genre conventions at the expense of logic. But hey, it's a superhero movie. Sometimes you have to let these things go.

The Ensemble: Thematic and relevant.

There are really only three other characters who matter in the movie: Yinsin, Pepper, and Rhodey. Yinsen is a pretty standard 'older mentor who dies to set the hero off on his journey,' and he fulfills his extremely classic role suitably. Pepper's an intelligent, competent love interest whose emotions towards her boss and friend are believably complex. Both good!

Rhodey is so interesting to me, on this rewatch. He's the one person who's put forth as Tony's actual friend, rather than a coworker, although they both occupy a similar professional space. He tries hard to be a good friend! But Rhodey is a part of the military-industrial complex, and when Tony comes back from the desert and starts to rock the boat -- when he stops playing along, stops wanting to build weapons, stops playing the game -- then Rhodey is there to try and nudge him back. You must have PTSD, Rhodey and Pepper think. You're making strange decisions. We've all been living in and benefiting from this system forever, what's wrong with you that it's suddenly a problem now? It was understated, but well done for what it was.

The Plot: Reasonably sensical!

The plot of Iron Man is easy to follow, maintains good tension throughout, and ties well together beginning to end. I don't have a lot to say about this one that I didn't already cover above, I'm just prepared for a slog through movies where "this plot makes sense" is a sky-high bar, so the fact that Iron Man not only clears that but does so enjoyably and well is pretty great.

The Franchise: It's hard to talk about how Iron Man relates to the movies that came before it when there are none, and talking about how it inspires the movies that come next is a WHOLE separate essay. Skip this one.

VERDICT: A solid 8/10

I know that for the MCU, this is pretty high on the list of movies that manage to be good at all, but I'm entering into this experience with an open mind and a willingness to discover that many of these movies are better than I actually expect. Iron Man is a very good superhero movie. I will probably watch it again someday, and I am not sad I watched it again now.

#C watches MCU 2024 #Iron Man #Tony Stark #MCU #driveby meta attack

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mlmvoreconfessionals · 1 year ago

Note

Since it’s now spooky month how about some more Bob Velseb vore? Maybe a few dates in for the his newly acquired boyfriend and him, showing off just how much he meat he can handle. Or if you don’t wanna how bout just some mass vore, with oral, pec and pit vore with weight gain and disposal?

I can make both of these the same thing, easy stuff. Obviously, this a follow-up to the old V.elseb asks, but I don't feel like searching for them to link.

Barry had to admit, he didn’t think things would go so...well? When the giant, cannibal serial killer basically told him they were dating, Barry figured it was just a little game and he’d be dinner himself sooner or later. But then he survived their first date...and the next...and the next...and the next. And now, a year later, Barry is starting to wonder if it’s not really a game.

Sure, tons of other guys have died over the course of their dates. Like...a lot, a lot. But not Barry. Bob licks him a lot, yeah, and might stick a hand or his head into that slimy, deadly maw...but he always lets Barry go again with a chuckle. Now, it’s Halloween again. Their one-year anniversary. And Bob wanted to do something special. And it involved the large house party that is happening tonight.

Bob is wearing his usual outfit, a thick red sweater and his devil face. Barry had let Bob do some face paint for him, too, so he’s a skeleton this year. A joke, since Bob likes to mention how he ‘has no meat on his bones’. Barry is only half confident that, if he did bulk up, Bob wouldn’t eat him.

Right now, at least, that drooling grin is much more focused on the house they’ve walked up to. Music blares out from inside, door open and already a few people milling about. Everyone is dressed in costumes of some kind and is in some state of tipsy. Barely anyone is even paying attention to them as they walk up...which really just makes the next part easy.

Bob yanks a guy dressed as a superhero up off the porch stairs by the back of his shirt. Maw opened wide, Bob lowers the guy right in, a few wet slurps and gulps sending him away. He barely even got a yell out before Bob’s jaws clack shut and his belly sloshes with live meat dropping inside. The killer slurps over his lips with a groan and pats his gut. “Mmm...now that’s good eatin’...”

Barry can’t help the slight chuckle that comes out of him. The guy didn’t even bulge Bob’s gut out, and it’s gurgling thickly around him. “How many people do you plan on eating, anyway?”

Bob slurps over his lips and looks down at Barry with wide, hungry eyes. “All of ‘em, darlin’.”

“...what?” Barry knew that Bob is a big eater. But he’s usually careful about where he goes to eat and how many people it is. He’s never seen the big guy go for more than ten meals at a time, and even that is when he’s being indulgent. The party is way more than that. “You can’t be serious.”

“Just watch.” Bob chuckles and pats his gut, the porch stairs creaking under him as he walks up. Three more people are lingering around the porch, and Bob does the same thing to each of them--hefts them off the ground and into his drooling jaws, slurping them away with practiced skill. By the time a pair of twitching cowboy boots are disappearing down his gullet, his groaning guts have begun to bulge out his shirt, peeking out of the bottom ever so slightly. Bob looks to Barry, blasts out a thick belch into the smaller man’s face, and then waddles into the house. Barry can only follow in stunned silence.

Bob’s massacre continues inside. The loud music helps to muffle a lot of what happens. Sure, people are more likely to notice Bob devouring others. It’s hard not to when he’s snapping his jaws down on people mid conversation, or walking up to clusters or people and just shoveling them down the hatch. But the yelling doesn’t do much, and no one is able to get away from those drooling jaws.

People try to grab onto their friends, and it gets them sucked down right after. Other try to rub, but Bob’s size makes it hard to get away from him, and he always grabs them and pull them into his maw. A few braver or larger guys try fighting him, but getting close enough to do so all but confirms their fate as food.

Before long, the living room of the house is mostly empty. Bob huffs, pushing a pair of kicking legs into his gullet. He doesn’t even swallow, just sends them down with a long push. “Nnf...there...” Bob slurps over his lips and pats his gut. It’s heavy, sticking out before him several feet and nearly on the ground. It’s bulging around the various people inside, limbs and heads and awkward shapes from costumes stretching him out. His sweater has ridden up on him completely, exposing the pale, hairy flash. It’s churning and rumbling wetly, working hard on all of the meat inside. Bob belches deeply, a couple stray bits flying out of his jaws--a plastic gladiator’s helmet, a boot, and a bone that definitely wasn’t a prop, among other things.

“W-Wow...” Barry murmurs, just staring at that massive gut. He’s never seen it this big. He reaches out, pushing on it and finding it taut. He gives it a rub, earning a content huff from Bob. If it wasn’t for the face paint, Barry’s blush would be very obvious. “Okay...you were able to eat a lot, I’ll give you that.” The gut gurgles thickly against Barry’s hands, as if agreeing. “But you’ve got to be full now, right?”

“Hm...” Bob taps his chin, looking down at Barry over the curve of his gut. “...I s’pose I could give my gut a break.”

“Alright. Maybe we should go before anyone else shows up then, just so--” Barry stops when he watches Bob pull his sweater off and casually toss it onto the couch he just cleared of its occupants. “...what are you doing?”

“I said I’d give my gut a break, darlin’.” Bob stretches his arms out, definitely showing off a bit--his gut has always been round and soft, and while his arms and chest had a bit of that softness as well, he had some well built muscle mass. “Didn’t say I was done.”

“But...” Barry trails off as Bob goes waddling off, towards the kitchen. A few more people are inside, making food or getting some that’s been left out. Barry stands in the large doorway, watching as Bob hoists up a couple of guys.

The two men find themselves getting shoved face first into thick, furry pits. They start to kick immediately, but Bob gives their heads a good shove, and they slip right in. Then they’re sinking deeper, disappearing into his body. It wasn’t just his jaws that he can eat with, after all, and while he had his preference...Bob was hardly far from full. In no time at all, a couple pairs of twitching feet disappear behind black pit fur, and Bob’s arms are bulging out slightly more than usual.

He moves right on, grabbing a guy rummaging through the fridge. He’s dragged up and over the curve of that bulging, stuffed gut. He gets out a surprised yell before his head is crammed between Bob’s pecs, and just like before, the man is simply sinking into the muscles with little resistance. A few tight flexes, and the man is gone, leaving Bob’s chest slightly more bulky than it had been.

The few remaining people in the room are put away just the same. Bob makes eye contact with Barry, arms folded behind his head, a blindly grasping arm and a twitching leg disappearing into each of his pits. “Think I can’t handle my meat anymore?”

Barry shakes his head quickly.

Bob chuckles and heads out back. The backyard has a lot more guys around, sitting by a fire or drinking on the patio. Just like the living room, the eating continues with no issue. Except it goes much faster, with three spaces to stuff with squirming meat instead of one. Bob’s arms and pecs continue to bulge out with each guy he sends in. They all kick and squirm, but the second they get pushed between his pecs or into the fur of his pit, it’s just a matter of time until they’ve been slurped out of sight.

Barry only stopped watching so he could help. He went back into the house, going through each room and telling any stragglers to head to the backyard. “There’s a fight!” “I think I saw your boyfriend kissing someone.” “Someone’s calling for you.” Whatever he could think of to get them to head out, he said it. By the time he’s double checked the house and returned to the backyard, Bob is already coming back inside.

The killer looks down at Barry, who walks directly into his gut. Barry had to back up just to properly see Bob’s face. His gut is still massive, but digestion is already taking its toll, the mass inside getting more compact and growing smaller. His pecs and arms are also massive now, bulging and flexing as they try to contain all the squirming meat. Barry can see an arm or even a head surface from between Bob’s pecs or his pit hair, but a single flex sucks them right back into place. If it wasn’t for the massive double doors, Bob wouldn’t even be able to fit inside.

Barry can’t even say anything. He just stares, and it makes Bob chuckle. The smaller man is gently ushered along, back to the living room, and Bob settles onto the couch. It breaks almost immediately under him, but he just settles in and pats his gut. “Happy anniversary, darlin’.”

“You...did this for the anniversary?” Barry asks. He slowly raises his hands to start rubbing along Bob’s gut, then up to his pecs and along his arms.

“What can I say? I wanted to show off a bit.” Bob pats the top of his gut with both heads. He tips his head back and lets out a deep, rumbling belch into the air. Barry swears it makes the entire house shudder. More bits of costume bounce around, and at least a few bones, too. “Figures I’d put on a show for ya.”

All these people are digesting for Barry, then. Some...god, fifty or so partygoers who were just trying to have a good night are now just food. Packed into Bob’s hellish guts, or stuffed into his tight, musky muscles, doomed to die, just so Bob could ‘show off’ for Barry. The smaller man pushes his hands a bit deeper into Bob’s gut, finding more resistance, and even getting another wet belch out of the killer. “...thanks, Bob. This was...wow.”

Bob chuckles and settles back. “Glad ya enjoyed it. Happy anniversary, lambchop. Now then...” WIth a mighty yawn, Bob closes his eyes. “I’m gonna sleep this off. You have fun down there.”

Before long, the sound of heavy snoring is joining the thick rumbles of Bob’s gut and the crunches and snaps coming from his muscles. And Barry enjoys it all, rubbing over every inch of the man’s body, feeling it work and process all of that meat. Up until he fell asleep against that rapidly softening gut.

Come morning, Bob was up first, yawning and blinking sleepily. He can feel his little lambchop sleeping against him, a rather familiar feeling at this point. Bob would have stayed like that if not for the wet rumbling in his bowels demanding attention. So, with a bit of effort, Bob grunts and rises to his feet.

Bob’s stomach wobbles as it drops in front of him. It’s always been heavy and round, but it’s gotten at least twice as large, hanging out at least a foot before him. He notices that his thighs and ass have had a similar shift, given how tight his pants are on him. But he also has a lot more strength to pair with that. His arms are bulky now, all solid muscle. His pecs are about the same, large and strong, resting slightly on top of his gut.

Bob smirks and scratches his gut gently, getting a wet groan in response. “Bet lambchop will love this...” He looks over at the man in question, seeing Barry still sleeping on the ruined couch. Bob grabs his sweater and pulls it down over his head. It only half covers his gut, and his arms and chest are straining the fabric. He huffs and lifts up Barry next, simply holding the now much smaller man against his gut with one arm. The other arm helps get his pants down enough to let his ass hang out. Bob squats slightly and begins to push.

There’s a bassy fart at first, one that rumbles out for a good while. The only reason it stops is because of the solid mass that starts to stretch him out. Thick, dense logs of shit are all but overflowing Bob’s bowels, and they’re sliding out with a bit of urgency. A heavy thump sounds out when the first log hits the couch, and it’s quickly coiling up. The mass only breaks from its own weight, letting more dung heap up regardless.

Plenty of solids have gotten out of Bob’s body. Bones are the easiest to see, specks of white that break up the dark brown and awkward shapes that stick out every so often. Entire skeletons are likely baked down into every log, given the sheer amount of people making up the mess. But along with that is all of the costumes parts. Masks, plastic armor, cheap suits and accessories--they also pepper the logs of shit, all of them worn down or slightly ruined by the acid bath or being compacted.

Despite all of the awkward shapes, the thickness of the logs, and the sheer mass of shit, Bob is having little issue. Other than the occasional grunt or grumble, his dump continues with little interruption. And the mass of shit behind him keeps building up. The couch is smothered fast, the pile rising hire, some hundreds of pounds of shit heaping in the room. Bob has to move forward every so often, just to give himself more space to work with. By the time he feels the last of the crap slop out of him, he’s moved halfway across the room.

Bob lets out a deep sigh and stands up again. He yanks on a curtain to wipe himself clean and pulls his pants back up with a bit of effort. Behind him, the living room is filled with a pile of crap that would put manure farms to shame. It’s tall enough to reach the ceiling at its peak, smothering most of the back wall and sloping down. Furniture has been knocked over or smothered under the thick logs. The smell is almost overwhelming, and it’ll likely never come out of the house. And of course, countless amounts of bones and costume parts stick out all over. In one night, an entire Halloween house party was reduced to crap, and all with no effort.

Bob doesn’t even look back at the pile he made. He walks off, squeezing through the front door, all while Barry sleeps against him. Bob can’t help but grin looking down at him. Nothing cuter than seeing the little guy sleeping against his deadly guts. Must’ve been up for hours, Bob figures. He’ll probably just return to bed once he’s back home, let Barry sleep in.

By the time anyone notices the smell and investigates, the killer will be gone, likely back home to spend the day with his boyfriend. For everyone in town, it’ll end up being a Halloween that’ll never be forgotten. For Bob, it’ll just be the anniversary he has to one-up next year. His cute little boyfriend deserves it, after all.

#v.ore #male vore #mlm vore #m/m vore #gay vore #oral vore #pit vore #pec vore #mass vore #digestion #fatal vore #disposal #vore story #bobvelsebvore #slashervore #ask

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jawritter · 2 years ago

Text

My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1782

Prompt: Roommate AU

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: Angst, Some bickering

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

Y/N’s POV:

“You sure about this Sam, it is Christmas after all, what if your brother doesn’t want your roommate tagging along all weekend with you guys?” Y/N questioned for what was probably the third time that day, but the thought of Sam’s older brother coming to stay the weekend with the pair of them had her feeling extremely anxious, and a whole lot like the third wheel of the whole situation.

“Yes Y/N, I’m sure, I promise, everything will be fine. Dean doesn't mind. He knows you live here; he’s not going to expect you to leave your own house, that you pay half the rent on, just because he’s coming to stay for the weekend. It’s really not a problem.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as she continued to load the dishwasher in front of her. She didn’t quite believe Sam; he had a tendency to downplay things. He was also a Dean Winchester apologist; she knew that for a fact. Not that she’d ever laid eyes on Dean, save an old picture that Sam had kept in his room. Still, some of the stories these two shared growing up! She knew they’d had a complicated childhood, but Dean Winchester was much like his father John in a lot of ways, and John, from what she’d remembered, was not a good person. Add the fact that Dean was a self-proclaimed ‘ladies’ man’, and she just was not looking forward to this weekend at all.

Not that she was so deluded to think that Dean would actually hit on someone like her. She wasn’t exactly a ten. Her thighs seemed to touch together, no matter how much she exercised, and she didn’t have a super flat stomach. She wasn’t dumb enough to think that Dean would even look her way. She’d seen the pictures of Cassie, Lisa, some wanna be Barbie knockoff she couldn’t remember the name of, and a few others of his conquest via Sam’s sleuthing on Facebook and Twitter, Lisa being the latest. She looked nothing like those beautiful women. Dean wouldn’t even look her way. Still, she doubted the handsome Winchester wanted a female version of Java the Hut hanging around all weekend while he came to visit his baby brother, especially considering it was Christmas.

“Trust me Y/N, Dean’s an alright guy. Once you get to know him, you’ll love him. Now, I’ve got to go to work,” Sam announced, suddenly standing from the table and closing his laptop before stuffing it in his bag. “Just try not to stress about it too much, okay Y/N/N? It’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Fine,” she agreed reluctantly as she pressed the start button on the dishwasher.

She remained unconvinced, no matter how much Sam assured her that everything would be fine. There would always be this internal battle that the man would be repulsed by her the moment he saw her, like she felt that most men where, save Sam, he’d been her best friend for years now. He didn’t care what she looked like, or that she came from a poorer family. They connected immediately, and quickly became best friends. So, when she lost her apartment due to covid layoffs, Sam had gladly offered her a room in his house. She’d been living there for almost two years now and had never seen his family aside from pictures. She just assumed other than Dean, he didn’t get along with any of them, or they were all dead, she just never asked. It wasn’t any of her business.

Sam had gone back to school later in life to finish his law degree, before she’d met him, and was now working his first year in his own law firm. He never really wanted to talk much about his life before this, or why he’d left Stanford, and what he’d done all those years in between, or how he’d ended up in Detroit for that matter. All he’d ever say when she’d asked what he’d done in his time, life really, off of school, he just said the story wasn’t all that interesting, and blew her off. She knew Dean played a role in it, because he talked about his big brother all the time, and even talked about some of the adventures they’d had on the road, people they’d met, places they’d stayed in, sights they’d seen, but he never would give her more information than that; never would tell her why they were on a road trip together, or what happened in between to ultimately separate them.

Though, she was pretty sure his ex-girlfriend, Eileen, might have had something to do with it. He’d said that ultimately, ‘they had different goals in life,’ and because of that, it just didn’t work out.

The only thing she knew about the oncoming house guest, aside from all the above, was that he was a private detective, and worked closely with law enforcement after doing two years as a working FBI agent. She never told Sam, but she had tried to look him up once, and all she found was an obituary, claiming him to be dead. For some reason, she thought that the FBI part of Dean’s story wasn’t exactly true, but considering his line of work, she thought that it must be a ‘need to know’ kinda thing,’ and she didn’t ask more than that. She had a hard enough time in her current life, she didn’t need to have to go into witness protection program and start all over again.

“Oh, and Y/N, I’m probably gonna be late this evening, the meeting with this client is probably gonna be long, so Dean’s gonna beat me here. Just let him in, he knows how to make himself at home,” Sam called over his shoulder, closing the front door tightly behind him before she had the chance to argue with him about it.

Y/N’s nostrils flared as she glared at the door. He’d known all morning that she’d be alone here when Dean got here, yet he waited until he was leaving to drop that little tidbit of information on her!

She picked up her phone, opening her text app, and sent him a lovely little message about how payback was going to be a bitch, and she wasn’t going to be his brother’s keeper, nor his entertainment, or babysitter for that matter, so he can bring his ass home and do a goddamn zoom meeting for the rest of the week.

It didn’t help the situation at hand any, but it made her momentarily feel better. That is, until she looked around the room at the state of the messy house in front of her.

Running one hand down her face, she assessed the state of things, before deciding it was more important that the man show up to a presentable house, rather than taking the time to go fix herself up for nothing, because messy bun and PJ’s, or full face of makeup and fixed hair with nice clothes, it really didn’t matter, all that effort would have been for naught anyway, it wasn’t like he’d even look twice at her.

Y/N took a deep breath, yelled for Alexa to turn on Metallica on Pandora, and made her way into the kitchen to go and retrieve the broom. There was no putting off the inevitable, but at least cleaning will distract her for a while.

Dean’s POV:

“For fucks sakes Sammy!” Dean barked into the phone he had jammed between his right shoulder and ear as he hurried around his bedroom, shoving clothing into a duffle bag that was once used for hunting, but now he just kept it around for weeks he decided to go see his baby brother, still, as his large hand gripped the faded green material of the strap, the memory was not lost on him. Not at all. “You can’t even take off for one day before your vacation is supposed to start! It’s not like I get a free weekend all the damn time. I’m driving all the way up there to see you, not spend time with your roommate.”

“You will only beat me there by a few hours Dean, she doesn’t bite or anything,” Sam argued, the eye rolled damn near audible in his voice, and Dean growled into the phone with all the righteous indignation he could muster, mostly because he knew the next words that were about to come out of Sam’s mouth. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t had to spend an hour with a strange girl you didn’t—”

“I’ve told you, that’s not me anymore Sam! I’m damn near 44 years old! I’m old, cranky, probably got a little PTSD, and a fucking control freak. That poor girl doesn’t want to spend her afternoon looking at me of all people!”

“I’ll see you when I get home Dean,” Sam insisted, “and try not to knock up my best friend before I get home. She’s hot, but I have faith you can keep it in your pants for an hour.”

“Fuck you— wait a minute, what do you mean she’s hot?” Dean questioned and Sam laughed as he hung up the phone.

Dean grumbled as he tossed his duffle bag over his shoulder and turned to examine his room for the last time to make sure he had all he needed before whistling at Miracle to follow him.

Sam said she was hot, but honestly, he wouldn't let his dick get in the way of good sense. He’s not the man he used to be, he had scars, big ones, one that poor girl didn’t need to see. Besides, if Sam thought she was hot he wasn’t gonna step in on his girl. Sammy deserved a normal, happy life, and if this girl could do that for him, he was going to behave himself, no matter how hot she was.

“She better-not-be allergic to dogs,” Dean said to Miracle as he approached his Baby sitting in the parking garage as shiny and pretty as the day she’d been driven off of the lot. The only woman that hadn’t done him wrong, and he’d do well to remember it. “‘Cause if she is, I'll pick you over my brother’s roommate. She can just get a fucking hotel or something.”

Miracle sat and stared, tongue hanging out, and completely unenthused.

Dean sighed as he opened the passenger door for his four-legged friend to jump in, “yeah, figured you’d care about as much,” he murmured as he closed the door. “Least you care more than Sam apparently does. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to see me at all.”

Pt. 2 HERE!!!

Forever:

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