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wrinkledtulip · 9 days ago

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SMUT!! Caitlyn Kiramman x Fem!Reader

Caitlyn Kiramman x Fem! Reader

18+ Smut!! Fingering, praise, AFAB reader

It's my first time writing smut, or publishing on tumblr for that matter so pls be nice lol <3 Also this is unedited.

Life as an enforcer was always gonna keep you on your toes.

Whether it be chasing drunkards on the streets of Piltover, patrolling the overly large council grounds, or the occasional graveyard shift if the sheriff was cruel enough.

But what you found most challenging of course, was learning to handle weaponry, at least the ones that weren’t your first choice.

For a strange yet defended reason, all enforcers were required in training to use a rifle, a standard gun. And so, had led to countless hours in the training facilities aiming for wooden targets.

Technically, you could handle one. Yet your aim was not incredibly precise.

Ever since that Kiramman girl joined, the handling of guns seemed to reach for higher standards. Apparently her family was renowned for their handling of the weaponry.

You hit the target every time but the sheriff expected bullseyes in a row.

Huffling in frustration you reloaded the barrel, shouldering your rifle as you aimed once more.

But as you peered through the iron scope, a posh voice rang out behind you.

“You’re not hitting the bullseye because you have a poor trigger pull”

Kiramman.

“Haven’t you got a cocktail party to be at Kiramman?” you huffed, lowering your weapon as you looked back at her.

The two of you shared a brief moment of a solid yet intimidating stare, her blue eyes bearing down on you.

You both laughed.

“You know me better than that” she chuckled, knowing your words were nothing but playful banter. Despite her status and the other enforcer’s distaste of her, you had grown to like the girl. Though she had a tough exterior she was sweet and playful.

“Come to show me up then I presume?” You said, rolling your eyes as she stepped closer to which her words caused her eyes to roll.

“You know how pathetic it is watching you stand here for hours aiming over and over, we’ll lose bullet stock because of you” she spoke, shaking her head.

“Well I have to practise, Marcus has been up our asses since he’s seen your shooting skills… he’ll do anything to keep you from winning if it means dragging the rest of us along” You huffed, shouldering your rifle again as you turned back to the range.

“Oh” she sighed “I didn’t realise I had placed a burden like that onto you.”

There it was again, that softness that sought for nothing but do good for people.

“I enjoy the challenge” you answered, hoping your truth would console her as you aimed and fired again. Your body shook slightly with the recoil as the bullet was about half an inch off bullseye.

Caitlyn chuckled, shuffling through her pockets as she stepped behind you, balancing a coin atop of your rifle.

“Don’t you remember what I said before? Try again” she said.

“I don’t want your money.”

“That’s not what it’s for. I said, "Try again.”

She stepped back as you sighed, keeping your rifle still as the coin balanced on its smooth top.

You aimed again and as you fired, the echoing sound of a coin clattering to the ground could be heard.

“Now what was-”

“You have a poor trigger pull.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You sighed, agitated by her unexplained actions.

“You should be able to fire without the coin falling, it means you move the gun as you pull the trigger and you can’t properly withstand its recoil” she explained, stepping back towards you as her hands reached out to your form.

“Your stance isn’t firm either. Open up your chest a little more and stand with your legs wider” she stated, her hands moving in correspondence with her words as she adjusted your shoulders and hips, her fingertips grazing your form.

“Try again.”

So you did, focusing as you aimed once more and fired. This time it was closer to the centre of the target, your body the stiller as the impact of the recoil began to subside.

“Better. You just move the gun when you pull the trigger, learn to isolate your finger, you need more finger strength, I suggest working on that before you create a bullet shortage” she said with a small smirk, raising her eyebrows as she looked out to the target.

“And how would I do that?” you huffed, lowering your weapon.

“Just exercise it” she shrugged.

“And how would I do that?” you sighed, turning to her. In genuine curiosity you had no clue how to exercise it apart from just shooting, but that would waste bullets.

“I have my own ways of doing it.”

So that’s how you ended up in Kiramman’s bed, a withering mess as she showed you her own ‘special’ ways of literal fingering exercises.

She had you bent over her lap, her legs crossed to raise your hips as her spare hand roaming over your backside as you moaned into her silk covers. The subtle echo of her fingers squelching in your hole could be heard.

"Not so tough are you now pretty girl?" she cooed, smirking down at you. By now you were bound to be leaking across her thigh as her fingers slipped in and out of your hole. Every time you inched closer to a release, she would just roam her fingers across your folds instead.

"Kiramman please.."

"My name is Caitlyn" she said, that dominant tone in her voice. The same tone she used to get you to lift up your own dress and pull your own panties down for her. God, it sent shivers down your spine.

"Caitlyn please-"

"You finish when I say you can finish" she commanded, her finger slipping back inside you, eliciting a long whine as you gripped at her bedsheets. Her fingers curled to hit that sweet spot inside you, sending electricity through your body as she only smirked at your needy whines. It was clear you were desperate for release; her fingers were soaked as a small stain began to appear on the fabric of her thigh as you leaked in need of proper release.

"I thought this was a finger exercise-" you whined out.

"It is, for me at least, you just get to enjoy the benefits of it" she said in that sweet little smartass voice of hers as her fingers curled up inside you again, causing another loud moan to slip from your throat.

"fuck, just let me cum" you whined, your thighs trembling in anticipation as your body begged for that high, evident in the pleasurable sounds that escaped your lips.

"Ask me properly and I just might" She said, continuing to slip her fingers in and out of you.

"Caitlyn please... please let me cum" you begged quietly, gripping at the bedsheets as you could barely keep it together anymore. She leaned in, whispering in your ear as she smirked, her fingers speeding up.

"That's a good girl" she cooed. You moaned needily.

Her fingers moved quickly inside you, sliding in to continuously press up against that sweet spot. Your thighs began to clench around her hand yet she persisted as you whined and moaned. You felt that knot in your stomach begin to build as your increased volume made it evidence, however Caitlyn showed no intention of stopping or slowing down anytime soon. Just what you wanted. Every moment felt like ecstasy as she pulled you to your high, shuddering and moaning as she felt you come undone upon her fingertips. She rode out your high, continuing to milk you of your essence until you settled to a whimpering pant, feeling her fingers slowly slip out of you.

You glanced back to see her tongue swirl around her own fingertips, your sticky consequences being lapped up by her tongue as a dirty smirk rested upon her face.

"Those aren't even your trigger fingers-"

"So? Is there a problem darling?"

"No."

"Good girl."

#caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #arcane fanfic #caitlyn smut #caitlyn kiramman smut #arcane smut

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startanewdream · 22 days ago

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Halloween

Written for the @greenhouse-seven's No-Tricks-Only-Treats event, and my prompt was Trick or Treat. Harry and Ginny, angst with the promise of better days, around 900 words.

*****

There’s a radiant smile on Ginny’s face when she comes home holding two bags filled with candies and chocolate bars.

“Wow,” says Harry, watching her pour the candies into a giant cauldron. “Did you get swapped with Ron?”

In answer, Ginny winks at him before pulling him closer and proceeding to kiss him in a way that leaves no room for identity questions.

“Wow,” he repeats again, breathless.

She laughs. “I got excited on the store. We need to be ready for trick-or-treat! After lunch, I’m leaving again to get the decoration.”

“Decoration?”

“Yes! We cannot be the only house on the street that isn’t decorated for Halloween.” She frows suddenly. “You do remember it’s Halloween in a couple days?”

Harry nods. He isn’t indifferent to Halloween — he’s seen the houses decorated every time he walked down the street this past week, especially at night, when they are lit with candles or buzzing with electricity. He didn’t know that Godric’s Hollow made such an event of Halloween, but he guesses it was to be expected, with the village famous amongst wizarding folk.

Only he didn’t know how it would make him feel.

Harry had been glad to move to Godric’s Hollow; he and Ginny had found the perfect cottage, a place that promised home the moment they had visited the first time, and it had been so for the last six months. He’d never had second thoughts, but this week…

“I’ve never celebrated Halloween,” he says, aware that’s only half the problem. “I mean, there were feasts at Hogwarts, but at home… this is new.”

“But before—”

“The Dursleys wouldn’t even acknowledge Halloween.”

“I wasn’t thinking about them.” Ginny huffles, lips pursued as always happens when the Dursleys are mentioned. “I meant before.” Her expressions softs. “Your parents celebrated with you.”

“I guess.”

She caresses his arm. “I’m sure they did. I’m thinking about a small chubby baby dressed as a pumpkin.”

Harry smiles for a moment. Ginny’s expression doesn’t shift; she still looks concerned.

“What else is troubling you?”

If it were anyone else, Harry would just shrug off. But since it’s Ginny, he allows himself to sink in the nearest chair.

“It’s Halloween. My parents died on Halloween, and… I don’t know why it’s bothering me…”

She sighs. “Well, they were your parents.”

“I mean, Halloween was never a problem before, I didn’t even know the date of their deaths exactly until Hagrid told me when I was eleven, and yet—it’s weighing on me.”

Ginny bites her lip. There’s no pity in her eyes, for which Harry feels grateful. With her right hand, she twirls her wand; behind him, in the kitchen, the oven is lit, and Harry knows she’s preparing tea for them. With her free hand, she runs her hand through his hair, very smooth.

“I am no expert,” she mumbles, “but it seems to be as if what you are feeling is grief.”

“They died over twenty years ago.”

“And you were too young to understand. Then you were at Hogwarts without a break—your Halloweens were always eventful—and now you have no other trouble, and we are here, twenty years later, where everything happened. It’s okay to have feels.”

“Not when it’s troubling us. You looked so excited.”

Ginny twirls her wand again and a cup of tea materializes in front of Harry. “Your troubles are my troubles, remember? We are together.”

He sips the tea. “Exactly. I… I want to do this with you. Decorate the house—Halloween, Christmas, Valentine’s Day if you want—”

“Singing dwarfs and pink-shaped hearts? No, please.”

Harry chuckles for a moment. “Every holiday.” He holds her hands, places a soft kiss on her wrists. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“And I wish you had told me sooner.” She offers him a smile. “We can lay low on Halloween. No parties or anything, just a quiet night. Visit their graves, leave some flowers.”

“This would be nice.” He closes his eyes for a moment, but instead of picturing the cemetery, he thinks about the happy family in the monument in the square; imagines them going out together every Halloween, sees that little boy growing up in a loving family with whom he would share Halloween costumes. The life that could have been. The life his parents wanted him to have. “But let’s open the house for any kid playing trick-or-treats.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Yes, but also… I think this is what my parents would want. And I want to celebrate my second first Halloween with you.”

She kisses him softly. “It will be also my first Halloween. There were no trick-or-treats on the Burrow.”

“That’s why you went over-the-top.”

“Guilty.”

He chuckles again. He enjoys the idea of sharing all firsts with Ginny, every little milestone in their relationship. There will be a moment for missing his parents this Halloween, and also a moment of hope for better days. Maybe even daydream about a small chubby baby with Ginny’s red hair and his green eyes, though this thought he will keep to himself for a while.

His smile is serene now.

“You know, Muggles dress up for Halloween. I could go with you and get a costume.”

“Oh.” Ginny giggles. “I already got mine. I’m going as a witch. Broomstick, wand and hat, the full set.”

“Well.” He touches her face, leans closer. “You’ve already bewitched me, Ginny.”

#Hinny #greenhouse seven #no tricks only treats #harry x ginny

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jobean12-blog · 1 year ago

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Dressed to Impress

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Pre/No!Outbreak)

Word Count: 3,057

Summary: You and Sarah manage to convince Joel to dress up for Halloween. He's not too excited about it but agrees anyway. However, once he see's your costume...Halloween jus tmight be his new favorite holiday.

Author's Note: This is part of my kinktober celebration and the PPCU Halloween event. Thank you bunches to Sel @jupiter-soups and Harley @huffle-punk for setting it up! 💕💕love and hugs! I took two prompts; one from fluff: You and Sarah convince Joel to dress up for Halloween. He isn't thrilled. And one from smut: You surprise Joel by dressing up for Halloween as something that he has mentioned finding sexy. For the second prompt I didn't get specific because I figured it would be more fun for the reader to imagine their own sexy costume- whatever you wear- Joel LOVES it. I also want to thank my dear friends @flordeamatista and @mrsmischief209 for helping me with Joel's costume, you're both amazing! ❤️💕Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: it's fun and fluffy, silly and soft, lots of flirting and tension, Joel is sweet but definitely grumpy, reader has some sass, semi-public f-in-g-e-ri-ng, light d-ir-t-y talk, it's a whole ride lol

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

“No.”

His hands land on his hips as he stares back at you.

“But Joel, it’ll be…”

Your words are cut off by his second, “no.”

“Joel!” you whine.

“Darlin’,” he warns.

You stick your bottom lip out in a pout and give him your best sad eyes.

“Still no,” he says.

You change tactics.

With a sweet smile you step into his space and press yourself against him.

“I know it’s not your favorite idea but don’t you want to do it for me? Make me happy?”

His hands falls from his hips and land on yours, pulling you closer.

“Now you’re playin’ dirty angel.”

Your lips curve into a wicked smile. “I can play much dirtier than this if you want.”

You lift your fingers to his hair and comb them through, lightly scratching his scalp before they slide down the back of his neck and trace his jaw.

With a light brush of your lips you whisper, “please Joel. Just this once. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You kiss him before he can answer and you feel his low growl rumble through his chest as he pushes you against the wall of the bedroom.

With rushed hands you pull at his tee shirt, tugging it up and over his head. Your fingers caress his warm skin as his lips kiss and nip at your neck.

“Joel,” you moan.

He grabs your thigh, lifting it to spread you open so he can settle between you legs.

“Now who’s playing dirty,” you gasp when you feel his hardness press into your stomach.

His hand slides higher and his fingers dip into the waistband of your leggings.

“You started it,” he murmurs.

“Is that a yes then?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady as his fingers tease your skin.

His cell phone rings before he can answer and you both let out a frustrated groan.

“One guess who’s callin’,” he grumbles.

He grabs his phone from his jeans pocket and flips it open, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Hey,” he says which you follow right after with, “hey tommy,” loud enough so he can hear it on the other end of the line.

Joel reluctantly releases you and takes a step back but his intense gaze tracks your every move while you fix your clothes.

As you start to walk out of the room you sing out, “since you didn’t say no that time, I’m going to take it as a maybe!”

Before you get out of the doorway he comes up behind you and smacks your ass, making you squeal. His arm wraps around your waist and he drags your back to his bare chest, his soft breath tickling your ear when he whispers, “a maybe.”

You can hear Tommy on the other end of the line asking what the hell is going and when you look over your shoulder Joel’s eyes are dark, his ‘maybe’ and so much more hanging in the air between you both.

“How many times did he say no?” Sarah asks the moment you walk into the kitchen.

“Only three times,” you smile.

She blows out a raspberry and stabs her eggs with her fork.

“BUT!” you continue. “I think I’ve got him at a maybe now and if you lay it on thick we might be able to convince him.”

Sarah smiles deviously and when you hear Joel’s heavy footfalls on the stairs you both straighten your shoulders in preparation.

“Hey dad,” Sarah chimes brightly when he walks in.

You match her smile and offer him a hot cup of fresh coffee.

He looks between you both, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t even try…” he begins.

“BUT DAD,” Sarah interjects, “we all have to dress up. You can’t come trick or treating otherwise!”

“Who said I wanna go trick or treating?,” he says before sipping his coffee.

Both you and Sarah give him a stern look.

“YOU HAVE TO!” you both shout.

He sighs and sits down at the table.

“PLEASE,” Sarah says. “We can think of something awesome for you to dress up as.”

“I already have an idea,” you say, clasping your hands together in excitement. “You’ll look amazing.”

You wink at Sarah and she grins before turning pleading eyes to Joel.

You grab your plate and seat yourself on Joel’s spread thigh, curling into him and grabbing his fork to feed him a bite of eggs.

“Please,” you say softly.

Joel studies your face before he moves his eyes to Sarah.

“Fine,” he mumbles then takes the bite of eggs off the fork.

You and Sarah let out an excited cheer. Sarah hops out of her seat and comes around the table to kiss Joel’s cheek. You do the same on the other side.

He grumbles out something unintelligible but you can see the smile playing upon his lips.

“See you guys later,” Sarah says as she grabs her schoolbag and rushes toward the door.

Just before she’s out of the house she turns back and looks at Joel to say, “your tee shirt’s inside out.” Then she disappears out the door.

You giggle into your hand but quickly press your lips together to suppress any further joy when Joel pins you with a glare.

“Shit,” he says, looking down.

“Oops,” you say with feigned innocence and a shrug of your shoulders.

With a smug smile you hold up the fork again. “You have to eat more before you’re late.”

He looks up and takes the bite but then removes the fork from your hand.

“Oh I plan on it darlin’,” he simpers.

He swats at your ass until you get up and then promptly moves the dishes over and sits you on the edge of the table.

“Joel…” you breathe out as your arms wrap around his neck.

Just as his thumbs hook into your leggings you hear the loud clunk and roll of Tommy’s truck.

“Ah fuck,” Joel sighs, dropping his face to your neck.

You let out a little whimper and cling to him.

“Later,” he promises before kissing you softly.

Tommy barges in all smiles.

“Hey you two,” he greets.

Joel mumbles some form of a greeting and you go give Tommy a hug.

Tommy gives you a squeeze then looks to Joel. “What up his ass?”

“He agreed to dress up for Halloween this year,” you answer happily.

Tommy grins and walks over to Joel, slapping him on the back. “Shit brother, your girls can get you to do anything huh?”

You do a little happy victory dance as you place the dishes in the sink.

“Come on,” Joel says to Tommy, “let’s go.”

“What about my breakfast?” Tommy asks, checking the pan.

“We’ll pick you somethin’ up on the road,” Joel sighs.

You gently pat Tommy on the back. “There would have been pancakes but we’re out of mix.”

Tommy gives you a lopsided smile and then grabs the last piece of toast.

“See you later babe,” Tommy says before he heads back out to the truck.

He takes one last look at Joel, the toast dangling between his fingers as he points and says, “your tee shirt’s inside out.”

With another muttered curse Joel grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

He stalks toward you at the counter, caging you against it with his arms on either side of your body.

“You,” he whispers as he leans in and bumps his nose along yours, “are all mine when I get home.”

“Is all this gel really necessary?” he asks as you run your fingers through his hair for the hundredth time.

You stand between his spread legs and look him over, adjusting a piece of hair here and there.

“Yes. It is,” you state. “Eeeeeee Joel!”

After wiping your hands you check his bow tie, pulling on the ends to tighten it before you straighten it again.

“PERFECT! Sarah get in here!”

You grab Joel’s hand and drag him to his feet. Sarah rushes in and immediately gives out a loud ‘whoop’ before laughing.

“Dad this is so good,” she says. “You look just like Gomez!”

Joel turns to look in the mirror, his expression full of his usual grumpiness.

“Well, you’ve already got the grumpy look down perfectly,” you tease.

He just scoffs as he lifts his fingers to touch his hair.

“DON’T!” you tell him. “Just leave it!”

“You look amazing,” you tell Sarah. “Super scary.”

Sarah smiles and does a twirl to show off the full affect of her costume.

“You look great sweetheart,” Joel says before his eyes slide back to you.

“What about you darlin’? Where’s your costume?” he asks.

“Oh, I’m going to get ready now,” you say with a twinkle of your fingers. “See you downstairs.”

You pepper his face with kisses before shooing him away.

You’re just applying the finishing touches to your make-up when you hear Joel coming up the stairs.

“Angel, are you almost rea….?”

His words die on his parted lips as he takes you in, his eyes traveling hungrily from your head to your toes.

“Well?” you ask, smoothing your hands down your body.

The grind of his jaw says it all and your smile grows.

“Joel…?” you purr. “Couldn’t wait for me to come downstairs?”

He walks all the way into the room and shuts the door.

“I wanted to see what was takin’ so long…”

“Well I’m ready now,” you sing with a sweet smile. “Let’s go.”

He stops you with his body, his heat washing over you and his mouth dipping to your ear.

“You think I’m goin’ trick or treating and to some party with you lookin’ like this?”

“Like what?” you ask, your tone demure.

The air between you is charged and disappearing by the inch.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, his breathe a whisper along the shell of your ear.

You look at him through your lashes, the light scruff of his beard brushing your cheek and making you sigh out his name.

“We’re going to be late and Sarah is waiting….”

You step back and hear his sound of disapproval deep in his throat. It makes you shiver.

His eyes are glued to you as you turn and open the door and when you meet his gaze again it’s filled with heat and filthy promises.

When you enter the kitchen Sarah whistles loudly and grins. “WOW!”

You give her a bright smile and start toward the door. “Time to trick or treat!”

Once Sarah has plenty of candy you usher her off to her friends house for the night. They are having a sleepover with scary movies and lots of sugar.

As soon as Sarah is safely delivered to her new destination Joel settles his hand at your lower back and starts to push you back toward the house.

“Did you forget we have to stop by the neighbors house for the adult party?” you giggle.

He stops walking and presses himself against your back. “Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough today angel?”

“No,” you state, turning to face him. “I don’t think you’ve suffered at all in fact.”

Joel opens his mouth to argue but you press your finger to his lips.

“I’ve seen you smile and I know you love how much everyone is gushing over your costume and it won’t kill you to hang out with some friends for a couple of hours.”

He kisses your finger and then grabs your wrist to pull your hand away.

“An hour,” he growls.

“Two,” you counter.

He stares at you daringly, leaning forward and covering the inches between you, his eyes falling to your lips.

“And it’ll be your fault when I drag you somewhere dark and get my fingers inside you.”

Your breathy sigh is followed by a lick of your lips, Joel’s eyes following the movement with a hungry stare.

You don’t respond, not trusting yourself when your brain and body are consumed by him, and instead take his hand and move in the direction of the party.

“All the beer is still warm so I got you wine.”

You hold the glass out for him then search for a seat. When you see there aren’t any left you situate yourself on his thigh and rest yourself along his shoulder.

He takes a sip of the wine, eyeing you over the rim.

“Any good?” you ask.

Without an answer he curls his hand around the back of your neck and drags you down for a kiss, giving you a taste.

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “Yummy.”

You chat with some of your neighbors, snacking and sipping your drink.

“You’re pulling off the whole grumpy Gomez thing really well,” you tease when there’s a lull in conversation.

“Who said I’m grumpy?” Joel replies with a smirk.

You dance your fingers up his chest and then lightly scratch them over his beard.

“I want another kiss,” you whisper.

He happily obliges but when you press yourself closer, shifting in his lap, he groans out a curse and pulls away.

At your questioning look he sighs.

“Darlin’…unless you want to stay in this chair for the rest of the night you better stop kissing my like that and wiggling your ass.”

You move again, unintentionally, and the hardness between his legs pushes against you.

“Oh,” you squeak. “Ohhh….”

He tightens his grip, his fingers digging into your skin in warning.

“Behave.”

“I’ll be good,” you promise with a slow blink.

“That’ll be a first,” he mutters.

You kiss him again, giggling when he starts to squirm beneath you.

“Oops.”

“I’d smack your ass right here and now if it weren’t for the creepy neighbor.”

“Creepy…?” you repeat and look around.

You lock eyes with your neighbor from across the street. He’s starting, his eyes blatantly roaming over your curves.

“I’m gonna knock his teeth out,” Joel threatens with a low rumble.

“He’s definitely drunk Joel. Not worth it.”

“He’s starin’ at what’s mine.”

You take Joel’s chin between your fingers, dragging his murderous gaze away from the neighbor until he’s focused on you.

“Come on, let’s go get some fresh air,” you whisper.

You rise from his lap and he takes your hand, keeping you close as you work your way around the crowd of people in the living room. When you reach the back door he holds it open for you and ushers you outside, walking you toward a darkened spot on the side of the house.

He lets out a deep exhale before grabbing your waist.

“Finally,” he says, in a hushed, rumbling voice as he pulls your back against his chest.

His hand slides along your side, tracing the curve of your waist before he closes his fingers around your wrist and lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing softly along your knuckles.

“What a Gomez move,” you tease lightly even as you melt into his embrace.

His free hand brushes along your shoulder and his fingers dance along your neck until he tilts your chin back, exposing more of your skin. With teasingly soft kisses he works his way to the spot just under your ear and whispers, “lift your dress.”

“Joel,” you breathe out, your voice wavering when he nips on your earlobe.

“Angel, I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

His hands wander along your skin, kneading and squeezing as he goes. When he finds your ass cheek he grips it hard. You don’t answer, arching against him, and when he gives you a sharp smack you cry out.

“Is this my punishment?” you ask as you catch your breath.

He smacks you again, soothing the sting with soft caress.

“Lift your dress,” he repeats, his voice low and deep.

Your fingers reach down for the hem and you slowly lift the front, whimpering when his hand leaves your ass and slides across your stomach and between your legs.

“Someone might see,” you gasp even as you spread your legs for him.

“Fuck darlin’,” he groans when he feels the wet patch on your panties.

His finger brushes over the damp fabric and he wraps his other arm around your shoulders to keep you pressed to his chest, his touch torturously light.

When he pushes your panties to the side and slides his fingers through your arousal he lets out hum of satisfaction.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs.

His finger slips inside you easily, pumping slowly in and out as he continues his kisses along your neck.

“You feel beautiful, too.”

He slides a second finger into you and growls, the sound vibrating right through you.

“Joel please…please,” you beg as your legs start to shake.

His grip tightens and he pushes his fingers deeper, pressing on your clit with his thumb. You wiggle and writhe against him, chasing your release as it builds.

“Joel,” you hiss through gritted teeth, trying your best to remain quiet.

He curls his fingers just right and continues circling your clit, the tightening of your walls giving him enough warning to slide his hand over your mouth and muffle your cries as you buck against him.

You slowly come down and sag into his strong hold.

He draws out your pleasure, pumping his fingers with deliberation and whispering praises in your ear.

“That’s my good girl,” he coos. “Letting me to fuck you with my fingers even when someone might see.”

He still has his hand clamped over your mouth, softening your continued moans.

“I’m taking you home,” he states, leaving no room for argument.

He slowly removes his fingers and releases his hold on you. You turn in his arms and watch as he slips his soaked fingers between his lips and licks them clean.

“First I’m goin’ to get a better taste and then I’m goin’ to fuck you good and hard.”

You let out a whimper of want and drag your hand down his chest, palming the hardness between his legs.

He stops you with a firm hold on your wrist and your lips part to argue but he interrupts, dipping his head and brushing his mouth across yours when he whispers, “no, not here angel. I don’t want to miss a single sound that falls past these pretty lips when I’m buried deep inside you.”

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #pre!outbreak joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #pre!outbreak joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #pre!outbreak joel x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #ppcu server event

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simp-ly-writes · 10 months ago

Text

Lasting Pictures: Interrogation (pt.6)

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Photographer!Reader

Summary: Stress is weighing down every part of your life, your relationships are strained, your work is becoming sloppy and you are desperate for answers- yet where will those answers lead you to and at what cost?

Warnings: 4592 words, slowburn, swearing, depictions of PTSD, blood, and injury. Allusions to jealousy.

A/N: we are reaching the end? (not really ahhaha). Apologies for the lack of uploads- uni has been serving up hell recently :/

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

↳ Three Weeks Until Mission “Spill”

Across the next few days you were splitting your time between weapons and strength training while packing your gear into a travel bag and cleaning your gun in the dining room as a break. The apartment was empty for the afternoon and you had left Spoons back at your apartment with care instructions to your elderly neighbour tapped to the fridge. Placing the shining metal against the blanket you had laid out. Looking down at the disassembled gun, a shiver runs down your spine as you see yourself reflected over and over again in the shimmers. You think about the scenario you are about to place yourself in. There was no need for an intelligence gatherer today, no- they had requested you to be a part of the infiltration team. You would be returning directly to your old position and be cleaning rooms with a barrel raised and ammunition strapped to your chest.

There was no option nor any choice, you had the full knowledge of every desired hostile target to be eliminated and all those connected who were valuable to be integrated after. You knew exactly how to grip the answers out of their skull, falling loose at the lips as you would push forward. Room after room, bodies hitting the floor leading up your most important mission yet. There were millions of lives at stake, a country of people who breathed, who loved and were loved, who deserved to see the light of day again.

You were determined to ensure their lives but at what cost. At what cost could you put yourself towards more… irreplaceable damage, as a therapist once told you. Shaking your head as you heard the door open, you placed a solid smile across your face before reassembling your gun. Hearing each piece slide effortlessly into place and finally with a click you were looking down your scope, fixing the last bells and whistles before loading up your vest.

Not paying attention to Köing who somehow managed to enter the locked apartment and sat at the table silently. He unloaded his own gun against the table, keeping you company as he followed your actions, reaching across to pick up the cloth as he polished some of the knives scattered across his uniform. Only when the Austrian hummed a familiar tune, one that your old squad listened and recited before every mission had you slipping beneath your mask- a true small smile lost to time as of recently.

You both became lost in the… somewhat domestic moment together. Humming in harmony before your phone dinged repeatedly from inside your duffle bag. Huffling while giving the tall man an apology, he simply placed another knife against the table before waving a hand in your face. Telling you to go take your call as he disassembled his gun and began humming once more.

Swiping without checking to see who it was, all you received on the other end was some hurried breathing and then static. Taking the device away from your ear, you look down to see the call has ended and no number has been tracked. Tapping your foot against the hardwood floors as you debate on asking Köing to take a look or not- you decide against it and send a text towards Gabby with a screenshot of the phone logs before returning to pack your bag.

“Everything alright, Maus?”

“It's been awhile since I heard you call me that,” you reply with a slight laugh in your voice.

“It has… but might as well start someplace? Is that not what you and your American friends say?”

Throwing your head back now in laughter, you grip the Austrains shoulder into a small side-hug before moving around the table and folding more of your shirts.

“You never answered my question.”

“Hm?” you reply without looking up.

“Who was on the phone, you began to do your pacing thing- someone say something?” Köing comments while tilting his head and reaching over the table to hold your forearm, halting your motions.

“Oh, nothing like that… just some miscommunication from within the team, that's all,” you reply before dropping your shirt into the bag and look towards the opening door- your squad appeared to be coming back from the gym.

“Okay then… see you again soon Maus,” Köing adds quietly with a wink before attaching his gear back into place, giving you a small hug and making his way out of the apartment. Your face falls once more, realising that none of the boys had greeted you since arriving as you place the last pair of pants into the bag before zipping it closed.

Slinging the bag over your shoulder you head out the apartment to place your gear for easy access the next morning in the locker room. As you pass by the living room Soap and Ghost sit on the couch cuddling one another- the infamous plaid blanket draped across their legs as a game plays across the television screen. Gaz comes out of the shower, towel wrapped around his legs and you receive no usual smirk from the man as Price enters the apartment, phone pressed into his ear as he side-steps you before moving into his room. Clutching the shoulder-strap you close the door gently behind yourself before watching the numbers tick down the elevator floors. The past meets the present once more, is the only message that passes through your mind when the doors open.

When suiting up in the locker rooms the next morning, a lack of caffeine has you tying your two boots together with a groan exiting between your lips. Your alarm had awakened you yet again and the lack of light touches to your hair from Gaz in the morning had your heart feeling heavier than your eyes from a lack of sleep. Soap didn’t chase you around the apartment in the afternoons nor did he whisper dad-jokes to you during dinnertime. You ate alone in your room, at your desk with your journals scattered across its surface.

You tugged on your vest, tightening the labels across your chest while shimmying on your gloves, testing the feeling of your fingers trapped beneath the material as you gave your helmet a good few knocks- ensuring it was secured tightly to your head. A member from a joining squad came to check your gear as they helped to tighten the back straps of your vest and to apply your jumping gear.

Giving you a quick pat on the shoulder, you moved to stand against the wall beside Ghost who turned to give you a close lookover- obviously not trusting the man from earlier that just checked you over. His bone-gloved hands move across every latch, zipper and button before he turns to stand in line once more- as if nothing had happened.

Your cheeks still hold a familiar pink hue to them as Laswell walks down the line and faces Price standing at the top. They hold one another's stares for a few moments, neither wanting to fold first yet a cough coming from a younger recruit snaps them out of their miniature competition as they both glare down the line to see who interrupted.

“Task force 141 you will be split into squads 0-1 through 0-9, you all will be placed on action items one through four, objective sites are lit when you arrive. NODs are to be equipped for the night execution of this mission when you will arrive by air. Jump distance to objective is cleared to be 10 clicks away, are there any questions?” Laswell demands to the group, a satisfied smile displaying across her face once being met with silence.

You all enter the plane, hooking yourself in as you watch various new and old faces do the same around you. The slight tug back in your seat comforts you in its familiary to the plane ascending, in four hours you would be placed back, combat focused after all those years away. You closed your eyes as the engines hummed, drawing out most worrying thoughts that usually accompanied you. You gripped your gun between your gloves as you prayed for the training sessions to prove worthy.

Once dropping into the site. You felt your heart beating through your head and helmet, the drum-like beat that kept you moving, kept your gun raised as you kicked open door after door. You were assigned as head of another squad, their eyes follow your every action, their weapons raised to your beck and call. Many of them young and bright in the eyes, not having seen the hells of warfare or pulling a trigger to sever a lifeforce. The pressure mounted on your shoulders as these thoughts consumed you, hardly feeling when you got slammed into a wall. One of your targets emerged in a dimly lit room, too bright for your night vision yet concealed enough to pull a knife against your side.

You felt as the blood dripped down your pant leg as you hooked your leg underneath his knee. Forcing him downwards as you wrestled on the ground. The knife dropped as you kicked it towards one of your squad members stationed at the door. A grunt erupts from the man as you slam your hand against his windpipe, he chokes for a moment- limbs going slack so that you can twist his arm, forcing pressure against his shoulder as you call out for restraints to be placed.

Brining the man to the car, you lock the door behind him before regrouping with your team and the results repeat. A door opened, a room scanned to either house a knife or gun barreling towards your face. You soon forget the gash on your leg as adrenaline takes over your form- a woman stands on the other side of the door, gun drawn as one of your men falls against the wall- clutching their shoulder with a shout.

You tackle the woman to the ground, reaching towards your secondary as she fumbles to load another shot. A bullet begins to be loaded in the barrel as you drive again to take the shot, a young Lance Corporal stands behind you, it was only his second mission. The ringing in your ears is ever more potent as a shot rings out in the room, wizzing right past your ear as the woman's corpse lies heavy against your chest.

So close to the edge- once more, your hands shake but you hold resolve to face the worried troops. “Are you okay, lieutenant?” A young man calls to you, caught between dressing a wound and eyeing up your own.

“I’m al’right, good shot Matthew.”

“It was either one of ours or theirs- easy choice,” they reply, eyes confident as their hands become caked in the blood of their brother.

“It will get harder as your time progresses, nevertheless we are to regroup with the other squads. This was the last room to be cleared,” you say as you throw the body off your own and stand, doing your best to wipe the blood off your chest as you radio to Laswell, “Watcher this is Dice, squad-04 has cleared region C. Exiting to regroup at the rally point.”

“Good job- Dice. Clean work?” you pause your radio to let out a groan, doing your best to walk out to the awaiting truck as the rest carry out the injured soldier behind you.

“Negative, one dead- four on route for interrogation. Based upon an ID found from Price’s team- they are some kind of scientist organization working with the aggressor group. Connections lead to Shepard intelligence- Farah I think?”

“Correct. The evidence matches these series of attacks. We just need to track down that oligarch and the rest of the cards should fall into place”

“Never knew you to be a cards gambler, Laswell.”

“You are one to speak with the company you kept.”

Silence carries through on the radio as you debate a reply and load up into the truck, tapping the roof twice before the wheels dig into the muddied ground. The transport shakes as a storm brews in the sky. The wind rumbling the wings of the plane, as the metal of your seat groans underneath the pressure as you tighten your holds. Matthew gives you a thumbs up with a tilt to his head as you nod once back in reply while doing your best to cross your legs- hiding the wound for the duration of the flight as your head falls light.

You do not remember walking off the plane, nor do you remember being placed inside Gabbys office once again as her appearance is a blurry image, caressing your cheeks as she whisper-shouts into your face.

“Bestie- please- this is not funny! I need your attention now, Dice!” She shakes your head as you groan, trying to shut your eyes once more due to the brightness of the room. Yet as you shift your body into a more comfortable position, you hiss out, the stitches placed against your thigh still red from their recent incision.

“Y/N, come on Y/N- don’t be a weak bastard now. I still need you to do all this paperwork- I’m drowning over here. Oh fuck, you probebly are shell-shocked- Don’t even know what I am saying-”

“Fucking hell Gabs, can you shut up one moment so I can get some shut-eye? I got stabbed, ‘Yippee’!” you produce jazz hands in Fish’s face before shoving her away slightly so you can sit upright with a groan. She rushes over with an extra pillow that had fallen to the floor as she grips your hand.

“Ouch! Lessen your grip, please. I swear I’m fine. Blood Loss and all that I assume,” you reply with a large side of sarcasm as you watch Gabby feverishly nod her head before dropping it in your lap with a sigh, you comb your fingers through her hair as cries out a little. Relief coating her system in a familiar hug to your hands.

“When I saw the reports flood in, a-and saw that those evil fucks managed to get some of our own guys- I could not help but imagine you lifeless on that plane home. Fuck, Dice-” Gabby says while shaking her head in your lap before you pick her head up, forcing her eyes towards your own.

“You are not getting rid of me that quickly, Fish. And you know if I ever did- you would be coming down with me.”

Throwing her head back in mixed tears and laughter, she hands you a glass of water before she dries her tears from the issue box. “I am keeping your word to that,” Gabby says while looking up towards the ceiling once more, blinking back any remaining tears as you rub her back.

“In the face of death- we shall never part then.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Hmm,” you let out thoughtfully before looking down at your watch, 3AM glowed brightly as your stomach grumbled, Gabbys echoing the same as she blushed a bright red.

“Dinner reservations at the caf?”

“Sounds like a date. Never knew you to be such a romantic, Fish.”

“I have my uses beside books and good looks,” she says before giving you a signature wink. Shaking your head you stumble to a stand before Gabby comes rushing over, using her as a semi-crutch you both heat up microwavable meals while going over new reports as morning birds begin to chirp out and you both are found sleeping on the bench.

But as you both were found hours later, rest was not available while the wicked still breathed. Finding yourself swamped in familiar paperwork, adding to Gabbys intelligence board within the office while also hearing General Shepard yell down your ears every other day on web calls was a treat in itself.

You both were so close to discovering the answers that you needed, one last red string to be laid as you listened into an interrogation happening from one of the men you intercepted from the last mission. Looking through the mirrored glass, you saw them stare down at you. You know they could not see you in reality, but the little stir down your spine did deter you to take a small step back while readjusting your headset.

They were telling stories in circles, so close to breaking, you were so close to having a breakthrough. All you needed was that last little push to redeem yourself in the eyes of superiors, to redeem yourself in your own reflection from not having the strength earlier.

“I do not know anything- I swear to you!”

“You swear- do you?” Gabby counters, her hands slamming against the metal desk as it rattle within the empty room. “Then please explain to me why biological weapon plans were found taped underneath your dresser, or better yet- how your wife was found at a charity Gala with criminal bosses or maybe how your precious sister died because she believed so heavily in the plan and not in you, yourself-hm?”

“I-I, she’s not dead. W-WHAT DID YOU MONSTERS DO TO HER!”

Sweat dripped down your back as you clutched the console, finger hovering over the communications button. But Gabby switches techniques quickly, dropping her head as she leans against the table now in a more relaxed position.

“She shot, we shot. That is all to be said- you can imagine the rest I believe with a character of your strengths. All I would need is a location…”

The man spits in her face as Gabby wipes the liquid away with the sleeve of her shirt in disgust before sighing and looking through the class, tapping a finger to her chin in contemplation.

“I serve the cause, we are to restore the beauty of the lands which have been taken.”

“Mhmm, and there is beauty to be found when the ground you rest your head upon is soaked in the blood of thousands of innocent people- children included. What would your own child think of you-hm? The one studying abroad currently… or was…” Gabby closes her eyes for a moment, as if praying for this line to sink in as she turns to face the man in the next instance. Walking over to lean down right beside his ear, “...temporarily moved… will she greet you with open arms screaming “Daddy!” with a big ol smile, kissing your cheek in that lonely yellow floral dress. Or maybe- actually probably- never mind that. She will look at you for the man you hide to be… a slaughterer of others daughters. That hateful look of disgust, a pity really it would be to sour such a good relationship…”

Gabby backs away, walking towards the door as the man begins to thrash in his chair- pulling at the cuffs on the metal table. “ALCOVE BLOCK. I-It’s a disabled mineral and forestry site. Farmland for miles surrounds it- you will find the accountant. Powerful member to the fight- t-they…” the man trails off fear beginning to overwhelm his stressed system.

“They. What?” Gabby presses, turning back to face the man as she slowly walks back over, a menacing tilt to her head as they lean away from her body and that is when you decide to enter the room. A small, pleasant appearing smile is plastered across your features as you kneel by the sitting scientist.

“Hey, hey. Deep breaths, I promise no harm to come to you while I am here,” is all you say before pushing Gabby out of the room. Turning to face away from the camera behind the man, you whisper out to the room only filled by light breathing and the tick of a distant clock. “I am on your side, I have seen you as you have me- is that not what our friends say?”

A few deep breaths in and out go-by before the man's shoulders slump forward in relief as he speaks out softly, The accountant is to be promoting us all. Direct return is very much necessary- I will speak good words of your efforts as I know you have much to report. They leave in a few days time, you get me out of here- and I promise that you will be served well by the leader.”

“A promotion you say?” you tease as you hear Gabbys small cheers coming through your earpiece. Looking over the man, you let off a tisk, tisk, tisk before exiting much to his confusion.

Leaning against the closed door, you rip your headset off before storming back into the room as the man yells out in frustration as the guards move him back into the holding cell. Once inside you find Laswell and Gabby already pulling you into a hug while voicing their thanks.

A ragged breath escapes between your lips, good enough is all that floats around your head. The last red line goes up moments later as another round of coffee is served in celebration before you are packing your bags once more, disregarding your injury for the new week upon you.

As the night falls upon you once more, the notes from the interrogation earlier in the day left to flock through the system. You lay wide awake in your bed, the ceiling fan spinning once again as the heater hums in the living room. You feel as Gabby stirs beside you, equally as restless to the sounds of Soaps snoring from the next room over. She looks over your features in the moonlight, concern overpowering her senses as she reaches out to hold your hand underneath the covers.

“You never told me how you know that expression…” Gabby whispers, the secrets you held eating her alive.

“...You promised to keep no secrets, but as of recently… I feel that I barely know you anymore. We have gotten so caught up in work…” her finger trails up your arm before she pulls you into a hug. “I feel that sometimes… I should have never asked you to return.“

Your breath hitches, “Gabriela-”

“Full name. Now I know we're truly serious,” Gabby says with a giggle, the seriousness returning to her tone the next moment, “Do you think you are going back after the mission? I am even thinking of leaving after all of this is over.”

You hum while giving her a squeeze. “Really? Knowing you- you will be itching to do something not even half-a-day after signing the papers.” You laugh out into a saddened sigh, “Sometime ago I said that I would stay… But with how things are going, I don’t quite know now… Wow I am such an asshole, stringing everyone with shit loaded promises-”

“No. You were being truthful to the moment, couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“Still- Gabby- I-”

“No, Dice. I asked you to come, you do not need me or anyone to hold you from staying after this mission.”

“But that's the thing Gabs. What about everyone once I leave?” you question, tears welling in your eyes as memories consume you- slight shakes forming at the hands has Gabby sitting upright to look down at you- giving your side a small tickle in distraction as you kick your feet out towards her in reaction before you hide your wince of pain. Your injury almost healed from a secret visit to the nurses office.

“You did not get to choose then, but you do now. That is what is different- what I am trying to tell you. I am not saying life will ever go back to normal, but whatever beginnings of normal you found within that apartment- I think you could find peace there.”

You contemplate Gabbys words, twirling a strand of her hair in your finger as you start to form a small braid, the sequences that your parent taught you. “I was hiding in that apartment, Gabs, behind my desk and in my journals. I-I don’t know where to go…”

Gabby lets out a hum as a delicate smile appears, “a gift- not knowing is; where to go, who to be, when to do what. It allows us to account for anything we ever wanted or find we want for nothing at all.”

You watch as she lays back down, turning her back to face you before speaking up once more, “take time as much as you spend it, Dice. Know that I will be here no matter what you decide.”

Letting out yet another ragged breath, you sniffle while trying to blink away tears of thankfulness, “Thank you, Fish. I would not know life without you- truthfully.”

“That makes two of us, now go the fuck to sleep. You look like a dying rat.”

You wheeze out into your bedroom as Gabby covers her face in the pillow, muffling her sleep-deprived cackles.

When you awake in the morning, Gabby's side of the small bed is empty, the sheets a mess and the shower running in tune to her horrid singing voice that has Gaz slamming on the door, voicing a complaint as he walks by your room. Ghost follows in tow with a hand against Kyle’s back- ushering him forwards.

Rubbing your eyes awake, you open your phone in the living room, seeing a few messages and selfies sent from Horangi and Köing as they pose in their gear- holding a thumbs up. Sending a text back, you were happy to see that they made a safe flight over the pond as you read off on emails the next minute.

You end up eating breakfast in Gabby’s office as you rattle off strategies with Laswell and Graves on video-call. You twirl in the chair once you close the tab- mind racing yet bags packed and waiting by the door. So much has happened in so little time, you think to yourself while adding more change to the fishbowl. You watch the coins fall and clank against the glass before loading up your belongings. While rolling up the charging cable, a knock is sounded from the door that has you bumping your head from underneath the desk.

Cursing and rubbing your hand- your eyes fall wide in shock seeing a dishevelled Laswell forcing herself into the office before quickly locking the door behind herself and motioning for you to sit back down. Kate walks around to the desk, sitting down to look at you from across the table while throwing her head against the desk with a groan escaping her.

“Everything alright-”

“Just peachy, Dice. I need you to leave sooner than expected.”

“Okay… like tomorrow or in 20 minutes?” you joke out, wincing at the bags underneath her eyes.

“1 hour- close but no cigar.”

“Dang, could use one of those right now…”

“Gods, you and Johnny with the jokes- really helping to do my head in.”

“Apologies, Laswell, I will get moving.”

With one hand on the door handle, Kate calls out your name as you turn back around to face her. “And do speak to John after this mission- please.”

You meet her words with silence before she speaks up again, “He’s become the offspring of a mother hen and grizzly bear recently. Whatever has been stirred- try to ensure it doesn't come into the field. I can look past many things from over the years- but I will not stand to hide piss-poor work, am I clear?”

“Crystal, Ma’am.”

“Safe travels, Dice.”

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @ashy-kit

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septnautical · 6 months ago

Note

Hi hi! Me again with another question!

Not sure if you said this before or not (IF YOU DID I AM SO SORRY), but I've been pretty brainrotted by Subnautica and Markiplier egos, and I've been thinking of making a crossover like you did, problem is, I don't know if you're okay with that??

Of course, the storyline, designs, and characters would all be different, but still, I want to know since, as far as I know, you've been working on yours for years by now, and I don't want to steal your idea in any way!

(And if possible, would it be okay in the future for me to ask about how you decided certain things? If not, that's completely alright! ^^)

I’m not really comfortable with people like using my ideas cuz yeah I have been working on this on and off for 6 years. But if you’re not gonna do the Septic egos then I guess that’s fine? We have the mark egos exploring the stars here cuz they seemed more content in space lol

But id be more than glad to share my creative process for curiosity sake!

#asks #Huffle answers

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whumpdrivethru · 1 year ago

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Hello! I would like to order a delirious whumpees with an extremely high fever resting badly to seeing caretaker (Who has pretty visible Burn scars covering part of their face and/or body) wearing comfy or otherwise loose fitting clothing and with their hair up (maybe they get scared of them, maybe they start to cry because they think caretaker is hurt)

Hi there! Let me get that started for you! Thank you for choosing the Whump Drive Thru!

Whumpee tossed and turned in bed, their fever climbing dangerously high. Caretaker entered the room with a washcloth and a bowl of ice water.

“Hey,” Caretaker said softly, dipping the cloth in the bowl and dabbing it on Whumpee’s forehead.

Whumpee only whimpered in response. They looked up at Caretaker through hazy vision.

“Caretaker?” they asked, their glassy eyes going wide.

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“Y-you’re hurt!” Whumpee cried weakly.

“Huh?”

Whumpee feebly reached up and cupped Caretaker’s face. They then promptly burst into tears.

“How did this happen?” Whumpee sobbed.

“How did what happen?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee didn’t answer. Caretaker needed help and fast. They clambered out of bed, despite Caretaker’s protests, and hurried over to the medicine cabinet.

“Whumpee, you need to stay in bed!”

Whumpee rummaged in the cabinet until they found the ointment for burns. They rushed back to Caretaker. They had just unscrewed the cap when a wave of dizziness washed over them.

“Put this on,” they slurred, squirting some of the medicine onto their fingers.

“Whumpee, what are you doing?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee just managed to dab some of the soothing gel onto Caretaker’s face when their knees buckled. Caretaker caught Whumpee before they could crumple to the ground.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” Caretaker said gently.

“No! You’re hurt! I need to help you!” Whumpee wailed.

“Whumpee, I promise I’m not- oh.”

Caretaker felt the side of their face, the side with the burn scar, the side where Whumpee had desperately applied medicine.

“Whumpee, I’ve had this for years, remember?”

Whumpee shook their head, tears flowing freely.

“We need to treat it now! Or it’ll scar!”

Caretaker gently manhandled Whumpee back into bed, then picked up the washcloth. Whumpee snatched the washcloth out of their hands and started dabbing at Caretaker’s scar.

“Does that feel any better?” Whumpee asked.

“Whumpee, I-” Caretaker put their hand on Whumpee’s, “-yes, it feels much better. I think you’ve covered everything, I’m gonna be just fine.”

Whumpee breathed a sigh of relief.

“G-good, that’s good…”

“How about you try to go to sleep, yeah?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee was already out before Caretaker finished their sentence. Caretaker sighed, taking the washcloth and rubbing the ointment off of their face. They planted a soft kiss on Whumpee’s forehead, feeling the heat radiating off of them. If anyone needed medicine, it was Whumpee. Caretaker left the room to go fetch them some fever reducers. Meanwhile, Whumpee twitched and fidgeted in their sleep, subconsciously worried about their friend.

you have been served by Huffle!

#whump community #whumpdrivethru #whumpblr #whump #answered asks #whump writing #whump blog #huffle #ask game #fever #sickfic #delirium #delirious whumpee #sick whumpee #scars #burns

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lover-also-fighter-also · 9 days ago

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🌹

👀?

Hi Juud! Thanks for the ask

In reference to this post

This is one of the ideas that I had for a long time. This fic is post the HSS: CA series, when Maria is off at Terman U, and Ria starts her senior year at Berry High. School without being able to see Maria proves to be a lot tougher than she thinks!

So, this is a sneak peek of what I'm going to write

'Can I have a slice of Red Velvet cake?' asked Ria. The waitress nods as she takes their orders before walking away. Myra looks at her, preceptive. Ria happened to notice the stare. 'What?' Myra folds her hands. 'You are pining, aren't you?' 'Pining? I don't know what you're talking about.' 'You sure about that?' asked Michael from across the table. 'Come on Ri, just admit it.' said Emma, looking at her best friend. 'Admit what?' asked Ria, getting a little weary of the stares her friends were giving her. 'That you are pining for a certain someone?' said Caleb, grinning. Ria feels her face turning hot. 'Who am I pining for? I'm not pining for anyone!' Michael grins teasingly. 'Are you sure? Not even a certain class president with an obsession for Red Velvet?' Ria blushes. 'What makes you think I'm pining for her? Just because I ordered her favorite flavor. Come on guys.' Emma laughs helplessly. 'Ri, we all know that double chocolate is always your go-to flavor. In these 2 years we have never seen you order any other flavor for yourself.' 'So? I just want a change...' Ria knew that argument won't work with her friends. She had always been a terrible liar. 'Really?' asks Myra, trying to get a rise out of Ria. 'Then why have you been super sulky when Rory appeared on Tiger News today? Miss your favorite anchor already?' Ria stammers 'I..I wasn't sulky...'

#choices #playchoices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #choices high school story #oc: ria monero #high school story maria #hss maria #maria flores #emma hawkins #caleb mitchell #michael harrison #myra khandaar #ria x maria #huffle's wips #asks answered

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6-and-7 · 3 months ago

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Doctor Whooves in The Pilot! Bonus, I’ve hidden one reference to every TV Twelfth Doctor story in this image – how many can you spot? (Answers below the cut)

Deep Breath - Shiny silver plate, behind chalkboard Into the Dalek - The pan of (don't be) lasagna, center of the desk Robot of Sherwood - Spoon, in front of the lasagna Listen - 'Listen' on chalkboard Time Heist - Memory worm, left side of the mantle The Caretaker - "Go Away Ponies" sign on righthand doorknob Kill the Moon - Moon on poster above righthand door Mummy on the Orient Express - Flag, upper left corner Flatline - 'Nervous system' landscape on poster, upper left corner In the Forest of the Night - Tree, lower right corner Dark Water / Death In Heaven - Modern Cyberman, upper right corner Last Christmas - Santa hat on hatstand, behind the Doctor's wings

The Magician's Apprentice / The Witch's Familiar - Hand (or rather, hoof) mine on mantle, next to the memory worm Under the Lake / Before the Flood - Beethoven bust on right side of mantle The Girl Who Died/The Woman Who Lived - Eyepatch and domino mask hanging on hatstand above Santa hat Sleep No More - Hourglass (sand) in lower left corner The Zygon Invasion / The Zygon Inversion - Red & blue boxes on mantle Face the Raven - Raven on desk, next to pyramid Heaven Sent - Portrait of Clara, upper left of center Hell Bent - Guitar between chalkboard and fireplace The Husbands of River Song - Portrait of River, upper left of center The Return of Doctor Mysterio - Mr. Huffle on desk, behind lasagna

The Pilot - The whole office, but also the picture of Susan on the desk Smile - Smiley face on chalkboard Thin Ice - Top hat on hatstand Knock Knock - Tuning fork in the sonic screwdriver mug on desk, behind Mr. Huffle Oxygen - Chalk skull on chalkboard Extremis - Veritas on right side of desk The Pyramid at the End of the World - Pyramid on left side of desk The Lie of the Land - Monk symbol on chalkboard, partly erased Empress of Mars - Mars on poster above righthand door The Eaters of Light - Roman helmet on hatstand World Enough and Time / The Doctor Falls - Mondasian Cyberman, below Modern Cyberman Twice Upon a Time - Portrait of One, upper center

#art #fan art #my art #doctor who #doctor whooves #the pilot #twelfth doctor #bill potts

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avvail-whumps · 1 year ago

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‘guns for hire’ — bedsheets #30

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content warnings: intimate whumper, whumper as caretaker, past injuries, mentioned past strangulation, broken fingers, past punishments, nudity (not sexual), manipulation

Leo woke up to something wet on his forehead.

It was dabbing against the skin gently there, coaxing him out of his slumber, and the secretary could only manage a confused, weak whine as he attempted to shift against whatever was holding him. There was a shushing noise by his ear, and something began brushing his hair back, soothing the sudden spark of panic that had formed in his throat.

He last remembered being in the basement. That dreaded, horrible little place. He then recalled the punishment — his failed attempt to get away from the other mercenaries, and being subjected to their torture for twenty minutes.

Joey had wrapped the cloth around his mouth, pulling and jerking, until Leo couldn’t breathe. The panic had set in, the adrenaline fueled struggles...

His breathing must have picked up again, because the hand in his hair stopped, tilting his head back instead against a shoulder. He felt something behind him; a moving chest, the pleasant rumble of somebody’s voice. His eyes blearily cracked open, and through a blurry vision, he just managed to make out an unfamiliar room.

A soft, tired whimper choked in his throat, and the voice became a little more clearer. He went slack, having not realised he was suddenly so tense and rigid under the gentle touch, sinking into their arms complacently. He opened his mouth to speak the first thought on his mind.

“Roy?”

The figure behind him began stroking a hand through his hair again, keeping it off his clammy forehead. Leo’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, a shuddery little breath escaping his lips.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here, lion,” he hummed quietly, reaching down to pick up the wet rag again. He felt him press it lightly against his forehead, soaking up all the cold sweat there. Leo could only manage a slurred murmur, trying to make sense of what was going on.

“What’s...” His body tensed as a wheezy cough rattled his lungs, causing a throbbing ache to punch into his muscles. He groaned softly. Roy was leaning against something. Leo couldn’t really tell, but he knew he was sitting on a bed. He was set against Roy’s chest, leaning comfortably against him, legs tangled somewhat within his. There was an arm around his shoulder, tilting him slightly so Roy had better access to his face. Leo’s eyelids fluttered when the rag dabbed considerably against his temple.

“Don’t try to talk move around too much,” the mercenary ordered, but there wasn’t much of a demanding tone. “You’re out of the basement, lion. The others left a while ago. You’re okay now.”

Leo clung desperately onto those words. You’re okay now. I’m okay now.

He sunk into Roy’s warmth, his touch considerate and gentle against his injuries. The cloth was nice against his sore skin, soothing the painful cuts and bruises there. It was mopping up the dried blood too, wiping him of all the dirt and grime.

Leo closed his eyes again.

He didn’t have the energy to speak for a while, but once he did, he tried to make sense of where he was. He didn’t recognise the room at all.

“Where are we?” He whispered, his throat flaring with a horrible dryness. Roy seemed to notice his discomfort, and leaned over the the windowsill besides the bed, picking up a glass of water. His finger gently tilted his head back, and carefully poured the water into his mouth.

Unlike last time, none of it spilled.

Roy was being careful to let him have what he needed, only pulling back when it was all gone. Leo felt it soothe the raw ache in his throat, licking his dried lips eagerly. A soft sigh escaped his lips.

“In my room,” the mercenary answered plainly, picking up the rag again. He felt it flush against his cheek, and he gladly leaned into the nice contact with a huffle. When he registered exactly what he said, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Your—?” He cut himself off, suddenly remembering those rules. This had been one of them. He wasn’t meant to be in here.

“But I...” He struggled to find the right words, fumbling pathetically over them. “But I’m not allowed! I—”

“Shush, lion,” Roy smiled, pressing the rag lightly against his lips. He instantly shut up, frightened eyes meeting his. “The supplies I needed were in here and you were clinging onto me. Wouldn’t let me leave you alone for a second, so I decided to do it here.”

He found himself flushing in embarrassment, but it was quickly overlooked by the sleuth of anxiety creeping its way up his spine. He swallowed uneasily, eyes sliding around the room with a hint of dreaded curiosity.

The room itself wasn’t what he was expecting it to be like.

It was normal.

Like an ordinary room, really, much like his own. There were potted cacti on his shelf by the desk, which was filled with papers and lots of clothbound books. The chair was tucked under and out of the way, giving space to everything else.

A television sat at the end of the bed, mounted on the wall, switched off. To his left on the far side, the wall was made up of closet doors, no doubt leading into all of his clothes. The bed was bigger than his own, likely King sized.

Leo swallowed uneasily, his heart slowing down in his chest slightly. He wondered why Roy had been so adamant he never enter his room. He remembered the severity he’d uttered it with, his eyes cold and dark. It had been a serious rule that he had never wanted to break.

He was broken out of his thoughts when the rag began dabbing his face again, dipping under his jaw to sooth over the bruises there.

“Are you done having a look at everything?” Roy teased, a small smile on the edge of his lips. “I need to fix your face up. Tilt it this way.”

Leo obediently did as he was told.

Roy applied a cool, soothing cream on the bruises and cuts, and the whole time, the secretary kept his eyes closed, simply drowning in the gentle touches. There was something almost therapeutic about the long process, something he didn’t want to end.

Thick, square bandages were smoothed over his face, as well as small little circular plasters for the miniscule cuts. His eyes fluttered open when he felt Roy shift, the arm around his shoulder disappearing. Leo’s weight sunk into him, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

It was relieving to know that the other mercenaries were gone.

It was like this horrible, lung crushing pressure had been alleviated from his chest, calming down his fear-stricken thoughts and reminding him that it was all over now. The punishment was finished. He didn’t have to be hurt like that again.

A sudden thought sprung to mind. Leo had said it a lot, but now that he was here, with Roy patching him up like a stray kitten, he just couldn’t help himself.

“I’m really sorry, Roy,” he whispered softly, his voice laced with sincerity. “I’m sorry for running away.”

The man hummed. “You’ve apologised a lot.”

“I mean it,” Leo sniffled, staring at him intently with glistening eyes. “I know I broke the rules, and I won’t do it again. I just want everything to go back to normal. Please forgive me.”

The man regarded him a look. “Back to normal?” He mused, lip quirking into a smirk. “Do you really mean that?”

Leo nodded his head, wary of his injuries. Too fast and he felt as though the room might go spinning.

“I mean it,” he breathed. “Bran was blocking the hallway, and the front door was the only place I could— I didn’t know where else to go and I didn’t want him to hurt me again. I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“Your punishment is over now, lion,” Roy hummed softly, tucking some hair behind his ear. His finger brushed lightly against the shell, and his stomach involuntarily fluttered. “They were the reason you ran away, weren’t they?”

Leo nodded obediently.

“And now that they’re gone, you won’t try again, right?”

He shook his head.

“I won’t,” he responded automatically. Roy’s finger was gently stroking the shell of his ear now, and Leo would say anything that pleased him if it meant he would keep touching him. Roy hummed, his eyes coy.

“I believe you,” he muttered, and Leo felt a slither of relief in his chest. He believed himself, too. “Now, I’m going to carry you to the bathroom. I’ll fill up the tub and take care of the rest, alright, lion?”

He felt himself smiling. A bath sounded amazing. It sounded really good, and he craved the very idea. “Yes, please.”

The man chuckled, gently cradling him close to his chest as he hefted him into his arms. He clambered off the bed, adjusting his grip when the secretary hissed sharply in pain. He went to grab onto something, but Roy promptly stopped him.

“Watch your fingers,” he warned, causing Leo to go tense. “You wouldn’t want to bash them around, otherwise they won’t heal.”

They were all bandaged together, wrapped up in something tight. He didn’t dare move them, suddenly remembering the crack of the hammer on his bones, and the horric agony that came the next second. He felt Roy opening the bathroom door, one on the third floor he’d only briefly looked inside, and let out a shuddering breath.

“Roy,” he whispered, making the man glance at him briefly. “Why...did you break my fingers? Was that, um, part of the punishment too?”

The mercenary seemed to digest those words. Leo thought for a stomach sinking moment that he was mad for bringing it up, but he finally saw his face break out into a soft laugh, the sound making him look away. He gently set him down on the edge of the tub, leaning over to turn the hot water on.

“I heard you,” he responded, making Leo wince. “On the violin. Do you remember the agreement we made, lion?”

He felt shame creep up his spine. He stared at his bandaged fingers, reminding him of the time they’d been dancing effortlessly along the strings, conducting beautiful pieces. He swallowed the lump in his throat, jerkily nodding his head.

The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom, and Roy glanced at him with an awaiting expression on his face.

“Go on,” he urged. “Tell me.”

Leo gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “When I was recovered enough to cook, then...I could play the violin.”

Roy crouched down, catching his eyes. The secretary didn’t look away this time, glossed over with a look of sincere guilt. He’d gotten carried away by the crippling urge to hear music. To feel that spark of joy it would always bring him again, just one time.

“And did you cook at all, lion?” He drawled, his hands resting on his thighs. Leo stared at them, trying not to fidget under the heat. “Were you allowed to play?”

He tried not to let his bottom lip wobble as he answered.

“No.”

Roy sighed, patting his leg. “I was willing to let it go because I liked what I heard. You’re damn good with that thing. But I couldn’t ignore it when you ran away, lion. That’s why I had to punish you for it.”

His tongue worked on autopilot again. “I’m sorry.”

The man shrugged. “They’re going to take a while to heal. You can show me how sorry you are by making a quick recovery. But without those lot here, I can’t promise you’ll be getting any well cooked meals.”

A sudden thought sprang into Leo’s mind. His eyes glimmered slightly as he grasped it, keeping it close and refusing to let go. His eyes rose back up to hesitantly meet Roy’s, who was now gently tracing shapes against the inside of his thigh. His throat closed up for a moment. What if he was overstepping? What if Roy didn’t like it?

“Uh...” He pathetically fumbled, eyes darting elsewhere nervously. “What if...I help you cook?”

The mercenary raised a brow, and he scrambled to continue.

“I can teach you and tell you what to do,” he spluttered, kicking himself internally to tripping over his own words. “So we don’t have to keep eating porridge everyday. We can do it together.”

“Together?” He hummed.

Leo timidly nodded his head. The man almost let out a chuckle at the expression on his face, before he rose to his feet, gently ruffling his hair.

“Alright, lion. Let’s try it.”

When the tub was filled just below halfway with some extra cold water to take off the burning edge, Leo was slowly helped onto his shaking feet, the soreness spiking up his ankles and legs and everything in between. The mercenary helped him strip, as absolutely mortified as Leo was, before guiding him into the tub. He curled his legs up to his chest, keeping his hands above the water. The man perched on the edge, and gently began washing and rinsing his hair.

Leo closed his eyes and let the gentle scraping sensations on his scalp ease him into a peaceful mindspace, the soft pressure from the showerhead tickling him. Roy soothed the dark bruises Bran’s beating had caused along his sides and ribs, as well as checking that the stitches were still healing properly.

By the time the water was dirty and cold, Leo was helped out of the tub, and wrapped in a comfortable towel. Roy dressed him in fresh clothes, a shirt far too big for him and little shorts, and lay him back down on the bed. He had been expecting to be taken back down to his own room, but Leo didn’t say anything.

The man dried his hair off, and placed a painkiller on his tongue, helping him tip it down with some water.

He was pulling a thin blanket over him by the time Leo was clean, comfortable and satisfied, pushing the damp hair out of his face. He leaned keenly into the touch, a soft hum rumbling in his throat.

“Get some proper rest now, lion,” the man murmured. “The TV remote is there if you wake up bored. Alright?”

Leo nodded his head. “Alright.”

He smiled. “Good boy.”

When Roy closed the door shut behind him, leaving him alone, Leo let out an exhausted sigh. He shifted slightly onto his side, pushing his face into the comfort of the feathered pillow. He couldn’t help but snuggle further into it, chasing the overpowering scent that was covering it.

It smelled like Roy.

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#guns for hire #whump series #whump tropes #whump fic #whump scenario #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #whump #whumper #whumpee #leo and roy #writing #my writing #avvail whumps

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