#if someone responds with miles I’m killing you

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @damianwaynezine R Stands for Redemption zine! I ‘m not entirely happy with how this turned out, I was trying to go a bit more stylistic (as you can see with the start) but then didn’t really carry it through.

…

…

…

…

0.

An early memory. The earliest, possibly. Damian stood stiffly in a cave. Even as a toddler, he knew how to fight, to kill. Discipline was second nature to him. In Ra’s training grounds, it didn’t matter if one was a child or an old man. All were expected to be combat ready.

In front of him, his mother stood tall and proud, her hands clasped behind her back. Her black, skin-tight suit blended in with the shadows. Some likened her to a venomous snake, poison dripping in her very words. He couldn’t see anything other than a sharp hawk, ready to swoop down on her prey. Her eyes were cold, calculating, with only the barest flicker of warmth behind them. Here, in this cave, she was a teacher before she was a mother.

“There is one important rule,” Talia al Ghul said slowly. Despite how softly she spoke, her voice filled the room and coiled around him. “It is more important than anything else. Trust no one, Damian.”

Damian stared at her, not sure how to respond. He opened his mouth.

Before he could say anything, she continued. “No one. Not your grandfather. Not your teachers. Not even me. As it is, you can barely trust yourself. Senses can be manipulated, memories altered. We live in a world of magic and science.”

Talia reached down, her hand cupping his cheek, her nails digging into his skin. He felt a sharp sting of pain as they drew blood. “Trust is a folly of the weak. You are the grandson of the demon and the son of the great detective. You are many things, but you will never be weak.”

1.

Damian did not like fighting with other people. Against them was fine, there were no restrictions then. But fighting with someone? It was annoying. Other people were useless and slow and clumsy. They more often than not got in the way. He especially hated fighting with Dick because the buffoon always bounced all over the place. Whether he was dressed as Batman or as Nightwing, the man could not keep his flighty nature in check.

Tonight was no different. As they fought in the warehouse, the lights flickering above them, Dick tumbled and flipped through the air with ease as he took down henchman after henchman. It was a graceful performance worthy of the spotlight on a stage. It had no role in the dark taking down villains.

Yet even worse than his fighting style was his mouth. Dick talked a mile a minute, as though he didn’t need to breathe. Dodging a punch, he kicked a woman in the face. At the same time, he praised Damian. “Nice hook.”

Damian grunted as he jabbed the man behind him, knocking the wind out of the mook. It was a miracle no one had ever recognized Dick’s voice. “Has no one told you you talk too much?”

Instead of taking offence, Dick chuckled. Perhaps that was the most annoying part of him: none of Damian’s barbs stuck. He swept the feet of his next attacker. “Lots of people, actually! The big man especially.” Dick’s grin grew brighter. “They got used to it.”

No wonder he was insufferable. Bruce should have curbed the man earlier or at least put a collar on his stunts. It was too late now; Damian was paying the price for his father’s ineptitude. He’d have to train this so-called successor himself. Damian scoffed. “Weaklings."

Dick laughed wholeheartedly as he tackled a man. “I’d love to see their faces if they heard you.”

There was another henchman approaching from behind and Damian tossed his batarang at the man, knocking him out. Deriding Dick, he barked, “You should pay more attention.”

“That’s what I have you here for.” Dick winked as he picked up a nearby crowbar and tossed it over Damian’s head. It hit an surprise attacker, knocking her out. “And that’s why I’m here too.”

Damian scowled. “I can handle myself. I was aware of her.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.” Damian held his hand up in mock surrender. “Just…if we can help each other, why not? Not everything has to be hard, does it?”

Damian scrunched his nose. “If you want to make my life easier, talk less.”

2.

There was a rap on the bedroom door. A sharp, single rap. It was not Cassandra; despite his best efforts, Damian still couldn’t sense her approach. It was not Bruce; he hesitated before the door every time he approached, as though he still wasn’t sure of what lines to cross. And Dick just barged in, not caring for even the most basic modicum of manners.

That left only Alfred.

“You may enter, Pennyworth,” Damian commanded. Alfred was perhaps the singular most useful person in this entire household, despite his physical inadequacies and age. Perhaps he should see to it that the man got an apprentice. It would be a waste to let such skills die out.

The door quietly opened, and Alfred entered the room holding a white first aid box. His expression was gentle as he closed the door behind him. “I’ve come to tend to your injuries, Master Damian.”

Damian scoffed. What an absurd thought. “I don’t have any.”

Undeterred, Alfred gave him a withering look. It was the expression of a man who had seen through every excuse in the book. “I have not looked after Master Bruce for so long only to miss the same tell-tale signs from his son.”

He took it back. Alfred was as worthless as the rest of them. “I don’t require your help.”

Alfred’s expression gentled once more. For some reason, Damian was suddenly reminded of his mother, and a warning bell rang somewhere deep inside him. Without missing a beat, Alfred replied, “If you say so, Master Damian. I will inform Master Richard that he may patch you up instead.”

Damian paled. What a nightmarish offer. Dick would be even more annoying. The man wouldn’t keep quiet about it for weeks. He gestured at the bed. “Just leave the box there. I will take care of it.”

“As you wish.” Alfred set the box down on the edge and stood still next to it.

When it was clear he wouldn’t leave, Damian gritted his teeth. What more could the butler want? “Pennyworth?”

“I am simply remaining here until I can take back the kit.” Alfred smiled benignantly. It was like watching a predator before it struck. “Master Bruce has given me the same excuses while not tending to his injuries. I will not see the same happen to you.”

Damian had been wrong again. Age had clearly not affected his determination or steel will. The absolute moment he took over, he was firing the man. Provided the butler lived so long.

3.

The second purple appeared in the corner of his eyes, the second Damian realised that Stephanie Brown had entered his vision, he immediately clenched his jaw and said, “No.”

Then, without a second thought, he resumed his pull-ups. The Batcave was large enough for him to get his workout without having to entertain Batgirl. He thought she would have joined the Clocktower or found her own hiding spot by now, instead of slinking back to the Batcave at any opportunity.

Then again, why should he be surprised? Stephanie had debased herself by dating Tim Drake, of all people. It was disappointing how ill-trained and ill-mannered all of his father’s apprentices were. It was a flaw his mother had not prepared him for.

Stephanie pouted as she stepped into his line of sight, her hands curling into fists. “But I didn’t even say anything.”

He didn’t have to hear anything to know what his only response should be. Just her smirk was enough for him to recognize that she was up to something frivolous, and he wouldn’t want any part in it. At. All. “I already know you’re about to say something moronic.”

“Come on,” she cajoled, walking closer to him, hands clasped behind her back in the picture of innocence. Sweetly, she added, “It could be fun! You never know.”

Damian gripped the metal bar tightly and pulled himself up. It was a mistake. At this height, they could see each other eye to eye. Never had he wanted to be short more than he did right then. When he got his growth spurt, he had better tower over her. Her wicked smirk was even worse close up.

He breathed out and slowly lowered himself. “I do know. Go away. Some of us actually want to be competent for our work.”

“And some of us are workaholics,” Stephanie retorted, unphased. Insults rolled off her like water off a duck. No wonder she got along with Dick. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

“I have not liked anything you’ve done to me,” Damian grunted, hanging at the bottom. Sweat rolled down his arms. He still had a hundred more to go.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Annoyed, she retorted, “You’ve smiled—well, smirked, I guess—every time. On the bouncy castle, when we looked at the fireflies, that time I took you to the park. Don’t lie, you just like complaining.”

Damian had heard she’d been a Robin once. He wasn’t sure which was worse, sharing the mantle with her or that buffoon Tim. She must have begged her way into the suit; it certainly couldn’t have been through her skills. Though, if his father gave in to a little whining, then he was even weaker than Damian had expected.

He scrunched his nose, displeased. “Go bother Pennyworth with your drivel.”

“It’d be better if he doesn’t go….” Stephanie shuddered as though remembering something unpleasant. “He’s actually too good at it.”

Despite himself, Damian paused mid-curl. However pathetic Stephanie’s skills were, they were miles better than an old butler. “What?”

It was a mistake. Like a cat cornering a mouse, Stephanie sensed his curiosity and pounced. “Yeah, he’s better than all of us at it.”

Her expression was clearly goading him to ask her. He shouldn’t do it. He would regret it. She would never shut up ever again.

“What is it?” Damian asked reluctantly.

Stephanie brightened and clapped her hands. “Paintball!”

“Paintball.” It was even more inane than he imagined. The name even sounded stupid. “We fight actual villains.”

“I know, I know, but with the right restrictions, it can be really fun, I promise. We can even fight each other.” Immediately, she crossed her arms. “Nonlethally. We can fight nonlethally. And there’s puzzles because it’d be too ‘boring’ otherwise.”

None of that was persuasive. Damian rolled his eyes. “Sounds moronic.”

“Come on,” Stephanie pleaded, her hands clasped in front of her. “Just give it a shot.” She cracked a smile and laughed. “A shot, get it?”

“I wish I didn’t.” Damian’s eyes narrowed as she didn’t leave. She was going to interfere with his training at this point. “Why do you keep coming to me with these stupid ideas?”

“They’re not stupid,” she grumbled, glaring at him. “We’re friends. Kinda. Friends do things together.”

No wonder she was Robin for only a week. That was the worst lie he’d ever heard. “I don’t have friends.”

“That’s a little tragic.” Stephanie gave him a pitying look, rankling him further. “Fine, we’re becoming friends.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I just think you could use some loosening up.”

Damian scoffed. “That’s it?”

“What other reason could there be?” Stephanie rested a hand on her hip, giving him a look.

If she had been anyone else, he would have called foul and sniffed out the trap. But this was Stephanie Brown, a woman as guileless as a dog. No, that was insulting to dogs. Ace was far cleverer than her. “Still a no.”

Stephanie sighed. “I didn’t want to have to pull this card butttttt…” She dragged out the word as long as she could. “…you can nonlethally shoot and kill Tim as much as you want.” A pause and she added again, “Nonlethally. That’s really important.”

Damian let go of the bars. “What are you waiting for?”

4.

Cassandra punched. Damian dodged narrowly, her fist just grazing his hair. Not missing a beat, she twisted and kicked, her foot aiming for his gut. He hadn’t trained as an assassin for years to get caught up in such a simple trick. As he backflipped away, he kicked back.

Unfortunately, she had also trained as an assassin. Cassandra caught his foot with ease and whirled around, tossing him toward a padded wall.

Damian grunted at the impact, the wind knocked out of him. Feeling boneless, he slid to the ground, his back throbbing, his head aching. It was a small hit. They’d been at this for hours. His sweaty shirt stuck to him like a second skin. The only relief was that Cassandra looked as tired as he did, her breath coming out in small pants.

Unfortunately, she was still standing and his legs refused to cooperate. Damian glowered but all the death glares in the world couldn’t force body up.

Today was another loss.

Against her, oddly enough, he didn’t mind the string of failures. If there was someone amongst his father’s litter of strays that was worth the keep, it would have to be Cassandra.

“I will have a rematch later,” Damian said, the closest to actually admitting his defeat as he would get.

Cassandra wiped her brow and relaxed her stance. As usual, her words were slow and pulled with care. “I will…look forward to it.”

Not that Damian will ever acknowledge it, but he did too.

“You’re a good fighter,” Cassandra added, running a hand through her messy short hair. Her cheeks were red from the exertion.

Damian snorted. It was a pity his father had taken in Cassandra before his mother could have. Her skills were wasted here and her time with others was ruining her. “We’re both assassins. Our skills are beyond ‘good’.”

Cassandra shook her head. “We’re not assassins.”

Damian bit back a sigh. Just what nonsense had they filled her with?

“Those are…tools.” Cassandra explained, mulling over her words. “We are not tools.”

“I have never been a tool,” Damian refuted immediately.

“No. You are not.” She smiled softly. “We are heroes. We…choose our own path. Every time.”

It was idealistic nonsense.

He couldn’t—didn’t bother to rebuke it.

5.

It was strange playing house with Bruce Wayne. It was a side of his father Damian didn’t know what to do with. The rich socialite who slept with every woman in town and adopted four children before revealing a blood heir? The façade that controlled the company and wealth that kept the Batman in business? The mysterious man who got into scandals and accidents every other day?

For the most part, the only value in Bruce Wayne was how he was a puppet.

Which left Damian lost when Bruce deviated from the script. Such as now, when he was eating breakfast in the dining room, his silk robe hiding the bruises from last night’s fight. Alfred had insisted they eat together as much as possible.

It was a promise Damian had thought little of. He had no use for Bruce, just of the detective and Batman.

It was a promise Bruce tried to keep for some reason. No matter how battered and bloodied he was, the man would traipse down the stairs every morning punctually.

Damian watched him from the corner of his eye as he spread jam across his toast. Their meals were silent affairs. Aside from their night adventures, there was nothing to talk about. It was almost a relief on the days Dick or Cassandra joined in.

“Damian,” Bruce said, breaking the silence.

Another oddity. Damian set down his knife. “Yes?”

After holding out a cream-coloured envelope, Bruce slid it down the table. “It’s from your mother.”

“Oh.” Damian slid the paper right in front of him, though he didn’t bother to pick it up. He recognized the elegant cursive scrawled on the front. Even without reading, he knew what it’d say.

His stay with his father was always meant to be a temporary thing. For good reason too; a prolonged visit would turn him soft, and if there was one thing his mother couldn’t abide, it would be if Damian turned out as useless as the rest of Bruce’s ‘children’. Already, Damian could feel his skills deteriorating.

This summons home couldn’t have come at a better time.

He traced a finger across the envelope. Something in him made him turn to his father and ask, “And?”

If asked, Damian couldn’t say what response he wanted. They were family in name only, their interactions jilted and awkward. His mother had told him enough times not to look to others for answers.

And it wasn’t Bruce but Batman who he should ask, if he really wanted a response.

Bruce stared at him, the silence a thick wall between them. Then he got up, his chair scraping against the marble floor as he stood. His footsteps were quiet as he approached Damian. Damian could only watch as his father rested a hand on his shoulder.

It was warm. It was heavy. It was strange.

He didn’t shake it off.

“It’s up to you,” Bruce said. The letter was still sealed shut but his grandfather didn’t call him the world’s greatest detective for nothing. He must have realised the letter’s purpose the second he saw it.

Still, Damian kept silent, his gaze focused on the hand on his shoulder.

“The choice is yours,” Bruce added, squeezing gently. “Your room will always be yours too.”

A choice. His own, this time. Damian looked at the envelope once more.

It was strange. Everything he heard here was the exact opposite of his mother’s teachings. It was a house full of soft people. His skills were growing rusty. There was still more to learn from his mother and grandfather.

His mother wouldn’t have given him this choice. Her words were an order, a command.

Damian pushed the envelope away. “I will stay a little longer.”

[i-eat-cars-and-berriesss]

hmm, what's a cursed pairing with Miguel O'Hara? like the absolutely worse pairing EVER. cuz I will write it

[ennabear]

⭑ SYMPATHY IS A KNIFE ⋆˚ ༘ *

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ themes of jealousy, porn w/ plot, ellie is lowkey a bad gf (she makes up for it in the end i swear), hate sex w rockstar!ellie, dom!r, brat!ellie (heh, get it?), slapping + spanking, ruined orgasm, based on sympathy is a knife by charli xcx, somewhat projecting here because i’m an insecure overthinker oops, brat summer challenge entry for my oomfies, check out everyone else’s entries and consider joining the server!! fank yewwwwq!!! 18+

🍏 wc: 2.5k ++ divider creds

✮ don’t wanna see her backstage at my girlfriend’s show. ✮

the crowd was crushing you from all sides, a wave of sweaty, drunk strangers all packed tightly together. girls surrounding you were wearing short skirts and low-cut tops, all cheering for your girlfriend.

your girlfriend.

this was one of the cons of dating a rockstar, sure ellie made lots of money, sure you were her one and only muse, sure she only had eyes for you, didn’t she? but this enraged you, the way they all screamed at her like you weren’t even there. begging her to take her shirt off, play them a song, and especially the way she always followed their orders.

you sigh, turning around to squeeze to the back of the crowd, muttering a few ‘scuse me’s and ‘pardon’s. the smell of sweat and weed infects your lungs, causing you to cover your face with your elbow. stumbling over your feet, you finally land on a barstool, asking the bartender for a glass of ice water. ellie notices your absence, scanning the crowd for you, her gaze being met with thirsty glances all around.

the cool water soothes the rage boiling in your stomach ever so slightly. your heart is still pounding, hands shaking, feet tapping the floor. thoughts of self-hatred plague your mind at a million miles per hour, a wild voice that tears you completely apart…

“where the hell did you go?” ellie’s annoyed voice cuts through your mind. you jump.

“sorry,” you trail off. “i got too hot.”

“man… you should’ve seen the way those girls in the front row were screaming.” she beams, a glistening smile creeping up on her expression. “almost blew the fuckin’ roof off.”

you don’t respond to this, instead looking down into your drink and swirling the ice around with your straw. “you gonna come backstage?” she asks. “or sit here and pout.”

“i dunno, els. i’m kinda ti-” she cuts you off by pinching the apple of your cheek, grinning at you like you’re a trophy. a grammy, in her mind. “knew you’d say yes.”

another wave of rage crashes over you, a chill running down your spine. ellie’s tattooed hands grab your wrists, dragging you with her as if you’re a lost puppy. you don’t let it get to you though, letting it simmer as she drags you from the bar, and trying to ignore it once you slump onto the cracked leather couch.

maybe it’s just the sour mood you’re in, but the sudden change of environment makes your stomach churn. the paint chipping off of the walls makes your skin crawl, the lights surrounding the mirror are faded and yellow, the air in the room is stale and smells of body odor and piss. it’s uncomfortable all around.

ellie doesn’t notice this, of course. too lost in her own jabber about the show to pay any mind to you. a knock on the door halts your thoughts again. “ellie?” someone asks.

“yeah?” she calls back, throwing her shirt into her bag and lighting a cigarette.

“are ‘ya decent? i brought a few girls from the pit. they’re gonna kill me if you don’t open this door.”

your jaw falls open involuntarily. the audacity strikes you in your burning heart. the audacity. the audacity to shove other girls in ellie’s face while she barely even loves you.

once again, ellie pays no mind to this, swinging the door open and presenting her bare chest to the small group of girls peeking in from the hallway. your jaw clenches, you wish so badly she would say no for once. that she would forget about the fame and the money and take you on a god damn date.

in a moment of defeat, you cross your fingers behind your back. praying to some god, any god, that this moment ends soon. and with your luck, it doesn’t. you’re cramped in this small, crappy room, watching the love of your life converse with girls who are so much prettier than you.

and they’re so much prettier. they all have silky hair that cascades down their backs and and finishes with a little curl. expensive earrings and bracelets, full faces of completely untouched makeup, not even a single smudge or stain. shoes that cost more than your house, perfume that smells better than the bouquets of flowers ellie used to buy for you. you couldn’t even be them if you tried.

laughter breaks out between ellie and the girls. she nudges you in the side as a hint to start laughing along, but you bite your lip and look down, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. you can’t hear anything, so jealous you feel like you might faint.

ellie smiles and stands up, patting you on the knee as she does. you don’t follow, instead watching through blurred vision as she ushers the girls out of the door. tears fall from your eyes and you grimace, holding your head in your hands and starting to sob.

“do you wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?” she asks, eyebrows furrowing in anger. you don’t respond. you can’t. how are you supposed to tell her you’ve been spiraling because she’s been eye-fucking other girls? when she hasn’t even kissed you in days? and when was the last time she said i love you? why hasn’t she noticed?

“hello?” she shouts. “what the fuck is going on with you? why haven’t you been talking to me?”

“why haven’t i been talking to you? i don’t know, maybe because you’re too busy feeling up other girls in front of me?” you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your eyeliner is streaming down your face, and suddenly your band tee and jeans feel improper.

“when’s the last time you’ve asked me about my day, ellie? i talk to you all the time. i help you write songs, i listen to you talk about your gigs, i clean your ass up when you come home drunk out of your mind.” you trail off, looking up at her to see a broken, almost confused look.

“you can’t at least pretend to appreciate the things i do for you?” she scowls, cornering you in the small dressing room. “you can’t even grit your teeth and fucking lie in front of my band? in front of my friends? i work my ass off providing for both of us and i don’t even get a thank you?”

“you don’t mean it…” you sob, absolutely sure that anyone outside of this room can hear the screaming match between you two. ellie scowls, your favorite green eyes are no longer soft and reassuring, but instead sharp. dangerous, almost.

“why do i have to share the space, ellie? did i do something wrong? did i-” you’re cut off by the door slamming shut. the mirror rattles behind you, shaking your reflection for a second.

what do you do now, sit here and cry? or will that only make it worse? a knock on the door soothes your racing heart. “you okay in there?” it was ellie’s assistant, the same guy who rounded up those girls earlier. “i- yeah?” your voice shakes as you answer. you go so cold.

he enters the room, sitting on the chair next to you. “we’re packing up the busses. you’d better hurry up before we leave you here.” how could you be mad at him? some sweet old guy who cares about you more than ellie does. you pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to form. “i don’t know if i belong here anymore.”

the comfort isn’t much, but you’ll take what you can get right now. you let a few tears fall, tear ducts already exhausted and drained. “don’t cry, kiddo. you’re both still young, she’s just going through something right now.”

somehow, this makes it worse. your cheeks heat up, that same anger stirring in your veins. “cmon, let me walk you out before they forget us both.” he laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you exit through the back of the building.

ellie is waiting for you in her bus, wearing an old beat up tank top and some sweats. she refuses to meet your eyes, her newly reformed ego letting her think that she’s too good to give an apology. you quickly change clothes, replacing your band tee with a sports bra and scrubbing off your smudged eyeliner.

she comes up behind you as you wash your face, completely ignoring you as she picks up a pair of scissors and starts snipping at her shaggy hair. the bathroom suddenly feels too small, like the walls are closing in on you. “so you’re still too good for an apology?” you ask.

“sorry.” she mumbles monotonously.

you turn and look at her. no, you glare at her. the attitude she’s had lately is almost jarring. here your once sweet, loving girlfriend stands. neglecting you for months, complaining to her friends about you, making you cry, embarrassing you in front of everyone she knows. this isn’t like her at all.

that rage boils up inside of you again. red-hot, vicious anger that scorches your insides and washes over you like a violent midnight hurricane. before you can even think, the palm of your hand is smacking her at lightning speed. her jaw falls open involuntary, eyes piercing into you.

that felt good. so, so good. you wiped that smug off of her face real quick. with your hand still raised, you grab her by the neck of her shirt— ripping a hole into the thin, flimsy fabric— and bend her over the sink.

“this’s how you wanna treat me, huh?” you laugh, out of exhaustion or relief, you aren’t sure. her pants slip off as soon as you tug them down, palming her bush beneath her boxers before you snag them off too.

“i- i’m…” she stammers. “i’m sorr-!!” you cut her off, pulling her back by the roots of her hair.

“i’ll show you how it fucking feels.” you punctuate this by sending your hand down to slap her ass, leaving a glowing red handprint on her pale skin. she grips the sink, whining loudly at the smack but deciding not to talk back, she might make it worse.

“that hurt?” you tease, rubbing over the area you hit. ellie bites her lip, not wanting to admit that it stung. she heaves a sigh, muttering a quick no.“no? not yet? guess we’ll have to go harder.” you smirk evilly. she gasps at this, but it’s too late. now she’s wincing at the slap, back arching into you as you palm at her ass.

“please!!” she begs. “i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!!” tears roll down her face, she looks just as pathetic as you did back in that dressing room. “what would those other girls think if they saw you like this right now?”

she doesn’t answer, instead her cheeks turn a bright beet red. one of your hands lifts her head up by her hair, angling her face to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. she can’t help but gawk at her expression, tears rolling down her face, lips pink and sore from being chewed on.

“one more? or are you gonna apologize now.” her lips pull back into a grimace at the thought of getting another smack from one of your heavy hands.

“i’m sorry.” she admits shyly. “i’ve been an asshole. i’m sorry and i mean it.” you slide two fingers into her dripping hole as she spews out her apology. she groans, gripping onto your wrist that just released itself from her scalp.

the pleasure soon overtakes the pain, and the stinging of her ass goes almost numb as your fingers reach deeper than ever. her lips quiver as she tries to hold back her moans, cunt practically sucking your fingers in.

her eyes roll back into her head as you pound into her, slick dripping down your fingers and wrist. she looks pathetic like this. now her own makeup is smudged and runny, she’s the one begging for forgiveness. “ohh, god, please!! right there.” she sputters, eyebrows furrowing as she gets closer and closer to finishing.

it doesn’t take much to please her, with two fingers massaging her g-spot and your teeth in her neck, she’s about to cum her brains out. she doesn’t, though. as soon as you notice the telltale twitch of her thighs, you pull your fingers out. she groans at the loss, cunt squeezing and clenching, desperately trying to get off without you.

“is that how you like it now? being neglected and completely left in the dark?” her head shakes, she wants to scream at you for ruining this for her, but she knows deep down that she deserves it. “keep going, please. i swear i’ll be so good. isweariswearisw-” you yawn, helping her pull her boxers back on.

“i dunno, ellie. i’m not sure you deserve it yet.” you sigh. “plus, i’m kinda sleepy.” once she’s dressed, you turn to leave. sliding the door shut behind you and flopping onto the small bed in the back of the trailer.

ellie takes a second to sit and think, and now she really realizes what she’s done. that her ego and crave for fame has gotten in the way of her love. as soon as your hands left her body, it was like she could feel herself losing you in real time.

the faucet squeaks as she turns the handle, splashing some cold water on her cheeks, and it mixes with her tears. what if you leave her? what if you leave her and it’s her fault? what if you showed her countless signs that you were feeling unloved and she completely ignored it? did she do that? now it’s her turn to spiral, to fall down the rabbit hole of insecurity and have to claw herself out with no support at all.

her body is starting to overheat, she peels her sweaty shirt off and throws it in front of her, soothing herself with the cold tile on the floor. she realizes how distant she’s been, how much she’s taken you for granted. maybe sympathy isn’t a knife, it’s a double-edged sword.

a few painful minutes later, she exits the bathroom and lays down beside you, curling into your side and sighing heavily. you can sense her unpleasant mood, but you still don’t really feel bad for her. not after how she’s made you feel.

and then she sits up and she kisses you for the first time in months. a real kiss, not a peck or a bite. her lips press against yours, she tastes the same, sweet and a little bit throaty. soft lips roam around yours, remembering how it feels to be intimate in such a way. to be loved. “i’m sorry.” she whispers on top of your lips. “i really am. do i get another chance?”

maybe sympathy isn’t a knife, it’s a double-edged sword.

[motherlvr]

can you write something grumpy!42miles x sunshine!reader? where he’s always kinda mean but cares about her but they end up together

this prompt is so cute tysm for the req!!

Word count: About 1,600

Pairing: Grumpy Earth-42! Miles Morales x Sunshine! f! reader

Summary: The line between just classmates and something more is thin. Miles and You seemed to be walking that line.

Warnings: (begrudgingly) friends to lovers, he's a bit mean, fluff, minimal cursing, classmates to lovers, pure fluff, cannot contain the fluff, reader is a little slow, this is short and cute, spanish grammar is not my strong suit

A/N: if i haven't gotten to your request yet, its still a wip but will be posted soon!

_________

You were boisterously laughing. Obnoxiously, even. The guy’s joke wasn’t even that funny.

Miles called your name out with an aggravated tone,

"Would it kill you to shut up for a second?"

You promptly responded, "Would it kill you to lighten up for once?"

He regrets not skipping this class.

That was partially a lie. In reality, he didn’t care for this class at all. He only came to see you. You were one of the few people who put up with him.

Miles and you always sat together during class. "Unassigned assigned seats", you'd call it. But that’s all you were. Seat partners. That was the way it was, and the way it would stay. And he was fine with that, at least he tried to convince himself.

The next day, the seat next to Miles was empty. It hasn’t been empty since the first day you met.

If you asked Miles how you both met, he’d say you forced your way into his life. However, you’d say that you saw through his “cold guy” facade and he opened up his heart to you. He was a good guy if you had the patience. That was only one of the many things he admired about you. Your optimism.

He saw you across the room. You were sitting with someone else. A guy. What was his name again? Miles couldn't recall. That was how irrelevant he was to Miles.

"Is this seat taken?" Miles looked up to the voice that had spoken, hoping it was somehow you. However, as he glanced up, an unfamiliar face was staring at him.

"Nah." He muttered, not sparing her another look.

She introduced herself and told Miles her name, but he wasn't listening. He was listening to your laugh. How could he not? Your laugh was practically drowning out every other voice in the room. At least, that’s how he perceived it.

You were giggling at whatever the guy next to you said. But this time, he wished it was him making you laugh. That guy didn't deserve to hear you laugh, or see you smile.

He couldn't stand your laugh unless he was the cause of it. Miles didn’t pay attention to the lesson that day. He was occupied staring daggers into your back. Yet you never noticed.

You sat next to Miles the day after, as usual. It was an unspoken agreement, and you had broken it the day prior.

Immediately as you sat down, Miles started interrogating you.

"You left me with some random girl to go flirt with that moron? He's a dick." He scoffed at you, nodding his head towards the guy that you left him for yesterday.

Right, like you're not. You thought. "He's really not, he's a good guy!" You defended him and continued, "Plus, your partner was super smart. She was probably more help than I could’ve been.”

"Ella no es tú. What else can I say, ma?" Miles casually said.

You tried to hide your grin but failed as a smile spread across your face. The corner of his lip curled in a small smirk. If you blinked, you would have missed it.

"I’m sorry for 'leaving you', Miles. But don’t worry, I prefer you over him anyway." You smiled brightly at him. And for a second, his stoic heart gleamed.

"I wasn't worried." He grumbled.

"You sure? I mean, whatever you say.” You grinned amusedly at him.

The rest of the class period followed as usual. But this time, before the bell rang, Miles bottled up his dignity to ask you, "Ay ma, wanna hang out after school?"

You raised a skeptical brow at his unusual behavior, "What, you starting to like me now? I thought you couldn't tolerate me." You probed.

Oblivious to you, he does more than just tolerate you. He was growing fond of your presence. He was starting to miss the sound of your giggle echoing within the room when he wasn’t around you.

But he couldn't find the courage to tell you just yet. Instead, he murmured, "I can tolerate you. Out of most of these people in here, anyway."

"I'm kidding. Yeah, I'm down, Miles." You teased him and agreed.

What you didn't know is that your initial question wasn't very far from the truth.

The school day couldn’t have passed any slower. If you were being honest, you were eagerly anticipating spending more time with Miles out of school.

The final bell of the day rang, and Miles held up to his side of the agreement. He met up with you after school.

Walking side-by-side, you asked, "What've you got planned for us today, Miles? You gonna wine and dine me?" you winked at him.

"Maybe another day, mami." He cracked a slight grin as he responded, fond of your antics.

"I'll hold you to that. I've got a better idea, anyway." You said as you heard a familiar song ringing through the atmosphere.

You yanked Miles by his arm and pulled him, "Look, an ice cream truck! I haven't seen one of those in forever. Let's go!"

A rare smile adorned Miles' face. Not that you saw it. You were too busy chasing after the ice cream truck and dragging him along.

You approached the ice cream truck. The ice cream man greeted you, "Hey guys! What can I get for you today?"

Without missing a beat, you said "Hello! Can I get the Spongebob popsicle please?" with a bright smile.

Miles ordered his right after you. "Coming right up!" The ice cream man said. He shortly returned with both your orders in hand.

As you tried to give the owner cash, Miles lowered your hand gently and said, "Let me pay for you." It was more of a demand as he handed cash to the man.

You couldn't contain the surprise that formed on your face. "Really? Thank you, Miles! You didn't have to do that, y’know." You reached up to him and peppered a kiss on his cheek as a token of gratitude. "Nah, I wanted to." He dismisses it with a shrug.

The man gave you both your ice creams and said, "Have a good day!"

"Young love. A beautiful thing to see." The owner of the truck said as you both walked away.

You both sat on a bench surrounded by a garden of blooming flowers. It was quite scenic for Brooklyn. "Miles, look. He only has one eye!" You chuckled as you showed him your popsicle.

Unbeknownst to you, you had ice cream smeared on your face. He leaned in to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb, his gaze lingering on your lips. An almost too-intimate action for people who were just "classmates." But you brushed it off as him being friendly for a change.

"You're a mess, mami." He chuckled, shaking his head at you. You ignored how he made your stomach do flips.

Miles had led you to a rooftop that he frequents. It had an incredible view of the sun, despite all the tall buildings encased around you two.

Miles and you spent the rest of the evening together, basking in the presence of one another. You conversed for hours, only realizing the time when the sun started to set. Comfortable moments of silence were exchanged as you watched the sun disappear from the sky, the moon soon replacing it.

“It’s a full moon, isn’t it just beautiful?” You admired the moon as it shone down on the sullen streets of Brooklyn.

"Yeah, It is." He replied, but he wasn't looking at the moon. If you had just turned your head, you'd realize the true meaning of his words. He hadn't even noticed the moon. His eyes were fixated on you instead. He believed that the moon couldn't even hold a candle to you.

"Why haven't we done this before, Miles? I enjoyed hanging out with you today." You felt harmonious with him for once, laying your head against his shoulder as you studied his face.

"I did too, princesa. Maybe I will just wine and dine you someday." Miles said with a smirk, gazing down into your eyes with a borderline smitten expression.

A lightbulb suddenly enlightened your brain. You mentally banged your head against a wall. How could you be so naive to not realize it sooner?

You broke the tension in the air and raised your head to look into his eyes. "Is this a date? You know, people that are 'just' classmates don't go on dates." You told him cheekily.

Could he not have made it more obvious? He paused for a moment and said, “I don’t want to be just classmates.”

“So you want to be best friends? Great! Me too." You grinned, feigning naivety.

His face immediately dropped as he facepalmed himself. "Dios mío, no. That's not what I meant. Never mind, olvídalo." He said, shaking his head.

You beamed at him and laced your fingers with his. “I’m just messing with you, Miles. I like you too. In case you haven't noticed."

He sighed of relief as he lifted your entwined hands to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand. You stayed in each other's embrace for the rest of the night.

From that day forward, you never broke the unspoken agreement ever again. And Miles never had to worry about you associating with another douche again. Excluding himself.

You walked into class hand-in-hand the next day. The following days, as well. That's the way it was, and that's the way it would stay. And both of you were content with that.

_________

ella no es tú - she's not you

dios mío - my god

olvídalo - forget it

princesa - princess

[crymyeyesout1]

Set in their sights

poly!marauders 

Summary: The marauders are all in a poly relationship with each other and Lily when they all individually become interested in a shy hufflepuff in their year. What about this little hufflepuff makes them all feel complete? Will she return their affections?

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of smut, lots of fluff, very shy oc, mentions of child abuse. let me know if there are any more

PSA: this is my first time writing on tumblr so please be kind, I'm trying my best. And there is absolutely no peter in this story so sorry not sorry. Please let me know if you like it and if I should write more.

✩₊˚.⋆✩⋆⁺₊✩

James and Sirius were hurriedly making their way through the train; their lovers were already in the marauders designated compartment and they were running late. It would seem as if the two hadn’t seen them since their fifth  year ended just three months ago, but in reality it had been only five days since their shared boyfriend and girlfriend had departed from James’ home where they had spent almost the entire summer doing whatever they pleased. 

“Pads slow down you are going to run someone over” James pleaded with his boyfriend

“ Prongs please we are late and I’m not going to-” he was cut off by a body colliding with him square in the chest and falling over. He peered down to see a small girl and became almost immediately enamored with in his eyes she was the most adorable girl he’d ever seen to others she was almost odd looking her hair was mostly pitch black but around her face and peeking out a bit from the underneath was bright blonde and all of it was naturally curly. The girl was wearing a hufflepuff jumper that looked at least one size too big with a black skirt and sheer tights that had some kind of pattern to them, stars, Sirius recognized and on her feet lay black worn out combat boots. Sirius reached out his hand to help the poor girl up and for a few seconds she hesitated almost as if she was scared of what would happen if she did take his hand, which reluctantly she did. He carefully pulled her to her feet and as he did so he took quick notice of her eyes: they were a dark gray and dull like there was no life behind them, they were slightly sunken and were surrounded by deep dark blueish purple eye bags. Just by looking into them Sirius could tell she was sad and it broke his heart a part of him wanted to take this girl and hide her away from all the evils of the world that she had already seen. He wanted to be the reason the light returned to those eyes. His thoughts were going a million miles a minute when someone clears their throat dragging him back to reality. It was James, his boyfriend, how could he be so stupid as to be so caught up with this random girl that he completely blanked on his relationship. He had two boyfriends and a girlfriend already. What was he doing ogling this poor girl? 

“Hello there, sorry about this brute, he can’t pay attention to anything even if it's right in front of him” James quickly apologized to the poor girl on Sirius’ behalf.

“It's quite alright” a soft and dreamy voice came from the girl in front of them, James instantly took more notice of the girl completely understanding he boyfriends staring now. In just three words you had encapsulated him and he needed more.

“Well little love, I’m James Potter and can I tell you how much of a pleasure it is to run into you. Please you must tell me your name, little love.” The girl blushed furiously at the nickname and softly responded.

“Abigail Gaunt '' Her last name caused Sirius to freeze, flashes of his mothers teachings came flooding into his brain. The Gaunts were the last known descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but the last living Gaunt was put in azkaban for murder by means of the killing curse, an unforgivable. How was one standing in front of him, and how was she a hufflepuff, oh how he would love to see the look on his mothers face the last known heir of slytherin sorted into hufflepuff. Surely she couldn’t be in his year, his own sorting into gryffindor had caused uproar but this, this was a whole new level. James had seemed to notice the shock on Sirius’ face and had elbowed his arm, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“Oh I’m Sirius Black, but of course you already know that doll” he winked at her and if her face could have gotten any redder it would.

“Um well yes but um I-It's nice to m-m-meet you” she stuttered out trying with all her might to act normal but in her mind no she wasn’t normal not even in the slightest bit. But two fourths of the infamous marauders stood in front of her and were they? Merlin forbid they were flirting with her? 

Impossible, flirt with her? What were they thinking?

She tried to reason with herself when a beautiful voice filled the hall

“There you boys are Remus and I were starting to worry oh! Who is this?” The voice belonged to the one and only Lily Evans, every aspect of her was beautiful, it was no wonder she had the three most sought after boys in the school on her leash. And what was that last part, she had noticed the small hufflepuff standing with her boys. Abigail might as well have been on fire with how hot and red her cheeks were.

“Lily Pads! We were just on our way when Padfoot decided to tackle Abby here” he looked down at her and cocked his head to the right “ I can call you Abby right? Good because that what I’m calling you, Abby is so much cuter sounding than stuffy Abigail” The girl now newly nicknamed Abby gave a small squeak as the larger and very muscular boy wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him and gave a small “sure”  when she noticed his expecting gaze. If someone could die from embarrassment Abby definitely would be long dead. 

“Oh it's so nice to me you Abby what year are you?” Lily gushed at the girl in her boyfriend's arms, she was just too cute and her deeply reddened cheeks only made her more so. Lily wanted nothing more than to kiss them but that would need to be discussed with her boys.

“Come on boys, let's leave Abby here to go find her compartment, I’m sure her friends are waiting, just as Remus is waiting on us.” She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Abby’s cheek then turned and walked back to their compartment. Abby didn’t have a chance to even think about how she definitely didn’t have any friends waiting on her, in fact the past five minutes have been the most interaction she’s had with someone her age ever she thought. Each of the boys had followed lily’s lead and each kissed one of your cheeks and moved to their compartment. Leaving Abby a flustered mess in the middle of the train.

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Venom intertwined

Summary: Wanda just wanted you and Venom to stop fighting that’s all she wanted, why did it escalate so much?

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, no spicy stuff, fluff, a crushed Pb and jelly sandwich (poor Nat)

A/n: I rewrote this since tumblr decided to delete it, hopefully it’s good, there will be a part two but when? Whenever I write it 😂

“Y/n why are you limping?” Nat barley moved from her place on the couch as you tried, but failed, to walk through the house without anyone noticing your injury

“I’m not limping you’re just incompetent” you laughed but Nat just rolled her eyes “I’m a well trained assassin Y/n I can spot a bee 5 miles away and blindfolded, you’re limping”

You flopped down next to her on the couch unable to hide the pain any longer “okay fine! Yes I’m limping are you happy now?”

Nat ignored your snarky comment instead pinching your arm getting a shout in response “enough with the snarky comments, why hasn’t Venom healed you yet?”

Venom’s head snaked out and you rolled your eyes knowing the rant was coming

“Y/n said that I was useless and she did not need me to live her life, so when someone who was paid to kill us managed to stab us in the leg I refused to heal her since she can obviously take care of herself”

Their head turned to you and glared and you glared back “you are a very childish bastard you know tha-

Venom slammed your body against the floor snapping the coffee table in half

“Ahh my sandwich” Nat said sadly picking up her now squashed sandwich “I was looking forward to that”

You scuffled with Venom on the floor which looked funny to anyone not knowing about Venom since it looked like you were just fighting yourself

“Take it back!” Venom growled

“No!” You shouted back

Suddenly Wanda burst the door hearing the commotion “woah what’s going on?!”

“Your girlfriend and her parasite ruined my Pb and jelly sandwich” Wanda glared at Nat and made a mental note to tell Maria to make more sandwiches to keep the grumpy assassin happy

“Okay you two stop!” Wanda’s plea went unanswered as you continued to fight with the symbiote so she used her magic to still you “hey!” You shouted still trying your best to fight

“I will separate you two if you don’t behave!”

Wanda barely registered Nat’s shout of “no!” Too focused on the fighting going on right now

You didn’t respond to her threat so Wanda, without thinking of the consequences, pulled Venom out of you and dropped you both to the ground, you fell to the ground feeling hallow for the first time in years, nothing felt right, your skin didn’t feel like your own and you couldn’t breathe, everytime you tried your heart sounded louder in your ears, wait your heart? That hadn’t made a sound in years.

Your eyes landed on the mess of symbiote on the ground, seemingly looking for you, when you reached your arm out you hoped they found you when your vision started to fade, after what felt like hours your body warmed back up and you felt the symbiote flow through your body and Venom’s voice piercing your ears “I am back Y/n you can relax now, we will be safe again soon I will heal you” you remained on the ground shaking slightly trying to keep relaxed like Venom said

Wanda and Nat watched you, watched you reach out for Venom and watched the colour returned to your face and your breathing return to normal, Wanda came close to you

“Baby I’m so sorry” Wanda tried helping you up but you scrambled away from her into the corner scared and afraid “no! No stay there Wanda!”

Wanda backed off unsure on what to do but Nat was there to try and help, “Wanda, you know her and Venom are entwined, DNA and all it’s dangerous to pull them apart you could’ve killed her”

Wanda gasped “I know I know! But I just wanted them to stop fighting I didn’t know what to do. And why didn’t you stop me?!”

Nat shrugged “I didn’t think you’d do it I also shouted stop but you still did it so it’s not my fault”

Wanda sighed knowing Nat was right and turned to you again jumping back seeing only Venom glaring back at the two women “Y/n?”

Venom stood tall and all trace of you had seemingly disappeared “you tried to kill us Wanda, someone who loves us would never do that”

Wanda’s eyes watered “no no baby please I didn’t mean to hurt you I just wanted you to stop fighting with Venom” she tried to hug the symbiote to give comfort but Natasha pulled her away

“Wanda they’ll tear you to shreds in seconds!”

The assassin kept tight hold of the witch as they both watched Venom turn to the window and turn back to them both, one side of your face revealed which gave Wanda hope but it was quickly dashed “Y/n? My love are you still there?”

“Don’t follow us” Venom overtook your body once again and leapt out of the window leaving the women alone without knowing where you were going or if you were coming back

“No Y/n! Come back!” You’d never been away from Wanda for more than a couple of days but she had no idea where you were going

***************************************

It was a while before either woman moved, Nat was still clinging onto Wanda as the redhead sobbed for you to come back hoping everytime she glanced at the broken window she’d see your form but it never came

Eventually Maria found them both, she sent Nat off to tell Tony and Bruce what happened and if they could help

“Wanda? Wanda can you hear me?” Maria sat in front of Wanda holding her head in her hands “she’s gone” Wanda whisper sobbed and Maria nodded “I know, they were spotted in Times Square running all over the billboards, they’re heading for New Jersey it seems”

Wanda brightened up and stood “New Jersey?”

Maria nodded “yeah why?”

“Y/n was going to buy a house there, she was going to ask Tony to borrow some money and work it off doing missions and let Tony and Bruce do some experiments on Venom”

Wanda turned to leave but Maria was quick to grab her arm “woah! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To New Jersey, she needs me I need to fix this”

Maria shook her head holding tight onto the witch “Wanda I mean this with all the love in the world but you caused this, you knew damn well what would happen and I’m pretty sure if you just turned up you’d start fighting with Venom and lose”

Wanda admitted defeat sighing and sitting down on the couch wiping more tears from her face

“Okay here’s what’s going to happen, you’ll have a shower and get yourself sorted then meet myself and the others to discuss what’s going to happen okay? We’ll get her back I promise”

Wanda didn’t speak but Maria took her silence as an agreement and left the room. But Wanda didn’t have a shower or meet everyone she instead got into her car and was currently on her way to you to fix this, she was going to fix this.

******************************************************

Meanwhile in New Jersey you were sat in that very house you were buying, Venom still being at the forefront keeping your body safe while it healed

“Are you feeling okay Y/n? Your body was so cold”

“Yeah I’m okay, just really confused, I can’t believe Wanda would do that”

Venom agreed “she tried to kill us”

You went to say something more but the front door opened revealing a witch standing there

“Why hello stranger, looking a little mouldy there”

The symbiote split their face revealing your own shocked one

“Agatha? You’re back?”

“Awaiting my favourite little alien’s return”

[grimestime27]

Find Me Part One

Pairing: Daryl x reader

Rating: So far fluff

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Aaron returned to Alexandria along with Kelly and Jerry. Anxious to see your now husband again, you came out from the house you shared together. But there was several people missing—Carol, Connie, Magna, and Daryl. Aaron could see your face scrunched up for miles it seemed like, your brain running a hundred miles a minute. It was trying to rationalize why your husband hadn’t returned. It was surreal to call him your husband. You both hadn’t been married a long time—just a few weeks. Gabriel had officiated a small ceremony for you both at the church in Alexandria, the whole thing being intimate. Just you and Daryl.

“Aaron.”, you immediately began, heading towards him.

“Y/N, wait—I can explain—.”

“Where the hell is my husband?”

Daryl had found an old wedding band, just his size. It was important to you that you both wore rings as a symbol of your love for one another. That’s why Daryl did it. He did it for you. Had he gotten married before the apocalypse (which he wouldn’t have), he wouldn’t have worn one at all. If something happened to Daryl, at least someone knew he was married and belonged to someone. Someone would be missing him. 

Aaron sighed. “Y/N, hear me out—”

“Aaron, where the hell is he?!”, you repeated, gritting your teeth.

“Y/N.”, Aaron responded calmly. 

“Is he dead?”, you repeated, softer this time as your voice was beginning to break.

“No.”, Aaron responded, quickly. “He’s not dead.”

The look on your face told Aaron you wanted more answers. The kids began coming outside, including Gracie, Judith, and RJ.

“He’s out searching for another way into a cave. We were led into a cave by Alpha. She tried to kill us—Connie and Magna are still stuck. The cave—Carol was—I don’t know—all I know is she accidentally set off some dynamite and the cave collapsed just as we got out.”

“So my husband is out there searching for another way into this cave? Again, cleaning up someone else’s mess?”

Aaron sighed as Gracie ran over to him, calling for her daddy. “I’m sorry Y/N.”

You knew that Daryl and Carol’s friendship was taking a turn for the worst. Daryl was tired of talking some sense into her. There had been no reasoning or rationalizing with her. Things had became difficult for her and Ezekiel since Henry was killed. Their marriage was clearly strained, them seeming to avoid one another. One stayed in Alexandria and the other at the Hilltop. All Carol was focused on was getting revenge, killing Alpha.

Aaron gave you a sympathetic look as he walked off with Gracie. You were trying to give him some grace. You had a feeling who was at fault here and it wasn’t Aaron. 

“Where’s Uncle Daryl?”, Judith questioned, coming up beside you.

“Trying to help some of our friends, Jude.”

Judith pursed her lips, clearly not pleased with the answer. “Why don’t you go look for him? I can go too.”

Michonne was on a trip to take someone who had invaded Oceanside back to their home. She said she would keep in contact with Judith, but it had been days since you all had heard anything. Michonne made you and Daryl promise that you both would look after Judith and RJ, keeping them safe no matter what.

“No.”, you said firmly. 

“Why not?”, she whined, just like a normal child. “I’m a good shot and I need more practice.”

It almost caused you to smile.

“No Judith—I told your mom I would keep you safe and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Judith frowned, beginning to storm away. She was having a normal childhood temper tantrum, something you never knew you would miss until now. It made life seem somewhat normal. She had Michonne’s determination even if she wasn’t biologically hers. Once she had an idea in her head, she was going to do it come hell or high water, something she got from Rick. You began to follow after Judith, bending down to pick up RJ. 

“Judith.”, you called after her, but she ignored you.

“Judith!”, you repeated.

She still ignored you, walking into their home. She stormed up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door shut. You sighed, holding RJ. Life was simpler when Judith was younger. You closed the door, smiling softly at RJ. 

“At least you still like me.”

“Yes, I love you.”, RJ smiled before you kissed his head, going into the kitchen to make them something for lunch. You were also going to try and get your mind off what your husband might be getting himself into. 

______________________________________________________________

As RJ was finishing up lunch, Judith’s plate was left full. She was still visibly upset with you but you had good reason. She just didn’t know it yet. 

Suddenly, you heard footsteps racing down the stairs. You perked up, hoping they were Judith’s. Of course they were hers, silly. Who else’s would they have been? But this world had taught you to always keep one eye open. You could never be too sure.

“Is this why we can’t go?”, Judith held up the white stick.

The white stick you had apparently left in the bathroom on the sink. Dammit.

“Where did you find that?”

“You left it on the sink.”, she crossed her arms. “Not a very good hiding place.”

You sighed. 

“And I know this isn’t mom’s.”

You nodded in agreement, trying to think of what to say next. “No, it’s not.”

“You’re pregnant.”, Judith stated matter-of-factly. 

“You know what that means, huh?”

Judith came over to sit down at the table, laying your very positive pregnancy test on the table in front of you. “Does Uncle Daryl know?”

“Not yet.”, you sighed. “I wanted to tell him when he got home today but he didn’t come home yet.”

A knock came to the door, interrupting your conversation with Judith. You got up from the table, heading towards the door. Slowly opening it, you found Aaron standing at the door. 

“Hey.”

“Hey Aaron.”

“Look, I’m sorry about Daryl. If you want, we can both head out and look for him together.”

“She can’t.”, Judith chimed in from behind you, causing you to look back at her and give her the ‘hush’ look. 

As you turned back around, Aaron wore a confused expression on his face.

“She’s pregnant.”

“Judith!”, you looked back at her. 

“You’re pregnant?”, Aaron asked. “Does Daryl know?”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “No. I was going to tell him when he got back today.”

Aaron sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his face. “I’ll go find him.”

“I want to go too.”, Judith stated. 

TO BE CONTINUED....

[redstarwriting]

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

───────────────────────────────────

It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his. 

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@444neapolitain​ @afraidofshrimp​ @arianalovescatss* @aroaceg @astrok1dz @baefy3764 @casmosmoon* @chill-guy-but-cooler @d1nne @dotheyevenknowmars @f1shb0nez @faerieluuv @fisshil @fukingsad @fushiguropleasesteponme* @friendly-reject @hisdarlingabsurdity @idk-i-draw @imarealfungi @imobsessedreader* @ineedsomeconfidence @inkthgoat @iwillrisefromthefire @j3st3r-13 @jingliuu @jjkclub @katiebug0603 @kenqki @khaleesihavilliard @kittekat420 @lacunaanonymoused @localbeidousimp @marshallowy @mistpx* @miwagila @naarra* @nikabearr @pookiesnatcher @queen-of-the-bored @queen-of-the-grapefruits @sadbitchhours400* @scoliobean @sillylittleguyinc @simplefools* @siriusly1 @sparklyphantom @stevenknightmarc​ @sxftiebee​ @thatweirdgirlsposts​ @valee1xoxo* @weyrrii* @wheeeelys​ @woahrin* @xoxobabe* @zero-boxes​ 

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!

[velvees-archive]

Making my case for ManoSouta, Ace Attorney’s token doomed yaoi

Bronco knew, and still he told nobody.

Ace Attorney Investigations 2 full game spoilers ahead!

Chalk it up to lucky guesswork or my expertly honed writer’s intuition (sarcasm), but so rarely do I latch onto side ships that when I found myself gravitating towards Bronco (Manosuke Naito) x Simeon (Souta Sarushiro, hence ManoSouta) simply because of this line, I knew something was up…

…and boy was I right.

Simeon Saint’s fall from grace was a direct consequence of subjection to a corrupt justice system and equally as corrupted individuals. There was his father, who saw Simeon’s existence as a means to an end (the end being a pharmaceutical “recipe” book that could cure Gusto’s affliction and a shiny world class confectioner title), his best friend, who kidnapped him and almost killed him on his dad’s orders, and—if that wasn’t enough to destroy someone’s psyche—there was the presidential assassination trio, who tormented, interrogated, and dangled their judicial and executive power over him like a special-brand curse.

This is a character who hit rock bottom so long ago he believes nothing is left of him except agony, paranoia, and anger. He crafts an intricate revenge plot that dishes Simeon-esque justice to everyone who wronged him. The acts are performed mercilessly, too, no hesitation, regret, or unnecessary feelings involved in the flawless execution of his plan.

Well, almost.

There was one person in the same boat—no family, no longstanding companionship (barring each other)—who set Simeon’s descent in motion. Ironically, it is also through this person that we’re shown what remains of his humanity.

For me to talk about Simeon’s feelings as shown before we found out he was the mastermind, though, we have to see how he reacted after the big reveal. Upon being fingered as the villain, Simeon makes it clear he does not feel remorse towards any of the people “he” killed. After all, they drew first blood; Simeon firmly believes retaliation was warranted.

That is, until Miles clarifies the following points surrounding Simeon’s kidnapping, his memory loss, and the fate of his and Bronco’s fathers:

The reason Simeon was kidnapped wasn’t so Bronco’s dad could kill Simeon’s; Bronco was only meant to stall Simeon so he couldn’t help his dad win the confectionary competition finale

When a murder did occur, the victim of the murder was not Simeon’s dad, but Bronco’s.

This is how Simeon responds:

“He deserved to die!…Didn’t he?”

This line, in conjunction with the contemplative flashback shown in the video, conveys Simeon’s uncertainty/regret about inciting Knight’s murder, though one could argue this is only in reaction to the revelation rather than a lingering attachment to Knight, who he “stopped thinking” was his friend 18 years ago.

But then he follows it up with this.

“Then what was all this…for…!?”

At this point, you have to ask yourself why Simeon is questioning his entire plan (keyword in the quote is all, not just Bronco’s death) because he realized whose father actually died. Technically speaking, Bronco did still kidnap him. On top of that, everyone else Simeon exacted revenge on still wronged him, so it makes no sense to say this unless Bronco’s supposed role in “Simeon’s” father’s death was pivotal in Simeon’s decision to proceed with his whole plot. In other words, the reason Simeon questions his plot after Miles’ clarification is because this fundamental misunderstanding was what pushed him to take revenge on everyone in the first place. Bronco’s betrayal weighed so heavily on him that Simeon had no choice but to kill him in line with his principles, but he didn’t actually want to.

I’m not saying he wanted to spare Bronco because of the power of friendship or some misplaced sentimentality. It was inevitable that Bronco would die by Simeon’s hand because Simeon vowed to get his revenge on everyone who hurt him. What I am saying is that Simeon’s resolve is clearly shaken once Bronco’s role in his suffering is cleared up. As soon as Simeon realized Bronco’s dad didn’t murder his dad, he regretted killing his only friend. This is the only time Simeon shows remorse.

You might think Simeon’s hatred for Bronco stems from his kidnapping and its consequences, aka setting off the chain of events that would ruin Simeon’s life outside of “his” dad dying. However, Simeon doesn’t hold a grudge over Bronco for anything other than the kidnapping. The statement, “If you hadn’t detained me 18 years ago…it wouldn’t have had to…end like this” is vastly different from “If you hadn’t detained me 18 years ago, none of this would have happened.” His “hatred” for Bronco was a personal grudge he had against his best friend, who also happened to be the son of his dad’s killer. Bronco was on Simeon’s list because his betrayal stung Simeon most. “What was all of this for” really meant, “I wouldn’t have gone through with any of this if I knew you weren’t involved.”

Had Simeon truly hated him, it’d be difficult to justify why he snuck away from his carnival preparations to talk to Bronco. Why did he pay such an incriminating visit when he’d already delivered Bronco’s chess set during visiting hours? And why did he tell Bronco he snuck something into it, leaving him vulnerable to counterattack should Bronco tattle?

Why did he bother saying goodbye?

Simeon’s actions betray logic because try as he might to hate Bronco with all his heart, he cared. Bronco Knight’s betrayal was the straw that broke the camel’s back, but imagine if the misunderstanding had been sorted from the start. Simeon's reaction to wrongfully killing Bronco was a stellar portrayal of his desire for genuine companionship, and a peek into what remained of his humanity before he was unmasked. He really was all alone.

If you’re still not sold on them being the doomed yaoi representatives of Ace Attorney, if a misplaced desire for revenge cutting their time short doesn’t make this tragic enough, then consider this: Bronco legitimately cared for and trusted Simeon, but unlike Simeon, he was left completely in the dark.

He’s legitimately excited to see Simeon’s performance. He happily awaited Simeon’s chess correspondences because he just likes being around him!!

Perhaps the biggest sticking point in all of this is that Simeon admitted he put something in his chess set, Bronco definitely opened his chess set, and yet when it came time for Fifi Laguarde to interrogate him (aka when she discovers the chisel), Bronco does not tell her he doesn’t own it, he does not tell her he’s been set up, and he does not tell her his best friend—who the precinct knows visited him—is the one who put it there. Why didn’t Bronco tell her?

That’s the greatest pull of their dynamic: we don’t know. Maybe everything happened too fast. Maybe he did try to protest. Maybe he ratted Simeon out but Laguarde was already in hysterics. Maybe Bronco didn’t understand why the chisel frenzied the warden so, and paid the ultimate price for it.

Or maybe, just maybe, Bronco already knew the moment he saw the chisel. Maybe he died a knowing victim of Simeon’s retribution. Maybe he thought it better that the knowledge of their past—Paul Halique’s ring and Simeon’s secret hatred— dissolve with his last breath.

Worse yet, maybe he couldn’t believe Simeon would do something like this. Maybe he continued to have blind faith in him despite the damning evidence. Maybe he believed in him.

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

HELLOO COULD I request earth 42 miles morales saving reader from someone who tried to kidnap them and what he does after? Hope ur havin a gud day

Here

Earth 42!Miles Morales x fem!reader 

Earth 42!Miles Morales x black!reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Langauge, mentions of death, a tiny bit of nudity, and mentions of violence

Requested: yes 

A/N: OKAY ONE REQUEST DOWN MANY MORE TO GO. I wrote most of this sleep deprived on a plane so it might not flow the best but I tried. Still wanna try out headcannons so I might use that format for another request. I'm almost at 200 followers tysm I might do a prompt list and blurb night type thing.

300 Follower Special <3

Masterlist

“I’m gonna kill him.” Miles declared a little too calmly for Y/N’s liking. He looked for his shoes so he could get out of there. 

Her heart had finally slowed enough to process what had just happened, the adrenaline wearing off. 

Y/N worked the graveyard shift at a gas station a couple of blocks from her apartment complex. She had to save up for school and it rarely got busy that late. It wasn’t a bad deal. 

She emptied out the register, but before taking out the trash, she texted Miles to see how far he was. 

He always walked her home from work, however today she felt especially tired and Miles wasn’t answering his phone and it was barely a 10-minute walk to her apartment. 

What she hadn’t expected was for someone to try and grab her on the way home, Miles had shown up at the exact right time to scare him off. 

“Miles,” She called softly, using her voice to beg him to look at her. After a moment's hesitation, he finally looked over at her curled up at the edge of her bed. 

He was so angry he was shaking. He snapped at Y/N on the way to her apartment he wasn’t mad at her but he needed someone to be mad at. 

“Can you please come sit down?” She patted the spot on the bed beside her. He continued to pace around her room as if he were looking for something.

 “Miles,” she begged again. 

“I have to do something,” 

“Just sit down,” The shakiness in her voice seemed to get him to listen. She grabbed the hand closest to her and held it tightly in her own, before leaning into his side. 

She inhaled deeply, relaxing into his warmth and earthy scent.

“Don’t go, won’t change anything,”

“What would’ve happened if I wasn’t there?”

“But you were,” She reminded him. 

“You could’ve been killed or worse.” He said. “And you want me to just do nothing?” 

“I don’t want you to leave,” She countered. “Need you to stay with me,” 

“I’m so sorry I was late,” He kissed her hand. Miles rarely apologized even when he absolutely should so she knew he meant it. 

“Not your fault baby,” She mumbled into his shoulder to which he huffed incredulously. “I mean it.”

Instead of corroborating his innocence, he shed light on his thoughts.

 “I keep thinking about you dying and it’s all because I didn’t get to you fast enough.” He sighed. “I can’t lose you too.”

Ever since his father's passing Miles had some pretty big shoes to fill. Head of the house, the son of a late police captain, but never just a kid. 

Sucking in a breath Y/N immediately shifted her body to grab Miles’ face. She pressed his ear over her heart letting him listen to the continuous thump. 

“I’m alive,” She whispered for only him to hear. “I’m right here.” 

He twisted himself to hide his face in her chest and wrap his arms tightly around her waist, she ran her hands over the hair at the back of his head humming a song. Miles spoke up never moving his face “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you,” 

With a smile never stilling her hand movements she responded. “You don’t have to be a big macho man all the time you know?” 

He finally released her with a small dismissive yeah. She pushed herself off the edge of her bed with a groan, bending backward to stretch her back. Miles leaned back on his elbows to watch her. 

She made her way over to her dresser before he sat up and then spoke up. “Where you going?” 

“I wanna take a shower,” She answered grabbing a plain cotton shirt and some underwear. “I feel dirty,” 

He seemed content with her answer and leaned back on his elbows again. “Will you come with me?”

He raised his eyebrow suggestively before she laughed and threw the shirt at him.

 “Not like that,” She clarified “You’ll just sit there. I don’t wanna be alone.” 

He nodded grabbing the shirt off his chest before following her to the bathroom. 

The stuffy humid air surrounded Miles as he sat patiently on her toilet seat. 

“You still here?” You called over the running water. 

“Yeah babe, still here.” 

“Can you talk to me?” 

“What’you want me to say?” 

“I dunno,” She shrugged despite the fact he couldn’t see her behind the shower curtain. “Just tell me about your day,” 

He told her about how in AP BIO they did fetal pig dissections and he got to cut into the brain. By the end of his spiel, she was listening to the creaky twisting of the knob to turn the water off. After asking for the towel she was making him turn around so she could get dressed shushing him before he could make an offhand comment. 

He followed her back to her room pulling her comforter back so she could slip in. The second she hit the cool sheets her eyes fluttered shut, sleep dragging her down. He tucked her in, and before he moved to grab her bonnet she gripped his arm keeping him still. 

“Don’t go home” 

“I won’t, I’m just gonna grab your bonnet, swear,” 

“Mhm,” She agreed, releasing his arm and curling in on herself. 

He slipped into the bed next to her wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back into his chest. She let out a hum of discomfort before turning to face him, her eyes still shut. 

Miles stayed still watching her until her breathing evened out and her body relaxed. Shuffling onto his side to reach into his pocket he pulled his phone out pausing when she stirred at the noise. 

Opening the messages app he swiped on his uncle's contact texting him 

Some white guy in Bushwick green civic and skull neck tattoo. Call me when you find him. 

Shutting his phone off with a click he readjusted himself. 

Y/N could say whatever she wanted he was going to kill that man.  

©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom

[radiance1]

de-aged Danny is one of my babies,

Shit hits the fan with the giw and Danny is super injured and Clockwork has to mess with some things so Danny doesn’t return to his core being vulnerable and sends him millions of miles away to Gotham and in the process Danny becomes 6/10 years old and is weeks healed due to being smaller and costing less ectoplasm but is still achy, Danny is steered to Jason’s apartment where he just got off his shift and then his is the twist! Jason is mute due to an accident with the joker and Batman (batman unintentionally causing his muteness) and out of reflex of a child on his counter hand first into a box of Cheerios let’s put a exasperated noise of flames and a lighter and Danny responds with his own spark of electricity and Jason is shocked (hehe) that Danny can understand and even communicate can he just lets out everything he’s been doing since “holy shit I can talk to someone normally” and then he realizes this child has the same scar as him and is pissed but Danny calms him down and calms the pits and he’s like “okay you’re mine now shit- I’m like Bruce- no. I’ll think about this later-“ Danny is super cute and Jason is having a field day with parent hood and Jason gives Danny a comm for when he goes out but he’s only allowed to speak in ghost speak and the rest are confused when Jason sprints away and they follow to see Danny in Jason’s arms being lulled to sleep with a man on the ground knocked out or dead who knows not Jason because it was shoot & punch and ask questions later and then Danny says sleepily “Oh your daddy’s brothers, hi” like it’s normal to meet family in this situation and Jason puts him to bed before signing “Say anything to Bruce and you will never be called uncle or attend his birthday in your life.”

Bruce only finds out when Jason some how ends up super injured and can’t sign and Danny translates (no editing just straight he said fucking hell) and introduces himself as Danny Todd, Bruce privately cried a little

The Joker catches wind of Red Hood's son and as you know, the Joker loves breaking people, both physically and mentally.

So he tries that shit with Danny, and because this is highly targeted specifically towards Red Hood. He even uses the method he killed Red Hood with when he was just a little itty-bitty robin.

Don't even talk about time because the entire Batfam suddenly gained fucking superspeed (They don't, but at the rate they're going they might as well have it), find the location the Joker is holding Danny at and descend on the Joker like a pack of starving wolves catching their prey.

Like, no joke (heh). They all throw straight hands; Joker gets tag teamed to hell and back by every one of them and none of them are holding back.

Later the Joker is on the ground a mangled mess, passed the fuck out and Batman just decides to go "Peace" and leaves him for dead without looking back, takes Danny (With Jason's explicit permission) and drives off in the Batmobile to Batburger because Danny was hungry.

Literally everyone else:

Joker just gets absolutely violated even further than what he already got, now that Batman's gone and very much left him for dead there ain't no one here to even try and stop them.

Gets beaten so hard he regains consciousness, and that guy still finds some reason to laugh.

A couple hours the Joker is just a mangled corpse with an inch of life in em and they give Jason the honor of finishing him off because not only was he the one to kill him, but he also tried to kill his son. Joker gets a bullet through his skull with both Danny and Bruce none the wiser because Bruce suddenly found himself on babysitting duty.

Danny was fully well and capable of getting out of that situation on his own, and he would've, but the Batfam was literally just faster in getting to the Joker than he was.

And he was literally with the Joker.

[skmhlml]

‘In the Line of Duty’ (series)

Military masked man x Fem!Reader(Rookie) Pt. 1

Word count: 1079 😭 (might do a whattpad)

You were fresh out of high school and did all you could to get into whatever dream of independence you had... which someone turned into a midnight bar drunken breakdown. You realized you had no fucking idea what you were doing with your life. The morning after, the weight of your choices hit you like a ton of bricks, and a wave of panic set in. Desperate to find some direction and stability, you impulsively walked into a recruitment office and signed up for the military. It seemed like the only viable option at the time, offering a sense of purpose and a steady paycheck.

As soon as you got home, you had another breakdown realizing what you had done. Out of all of them, why the Marines? No offense to them but the amount of blood that would be on your hands in the near future makes you want to cry and puke. Sure you could just quit but you didn't wanna seem too much of a pussy.

By the day you had to be sent to basic training, you thought to yourself that you had no choice. You were committed to it, and you were determined to make the best of it. You took a deep breath and hopped onto the bus. Nothing but yelling from the time you got on and when you got off.

You felt your heart sink as the reality of the situation set in. You knew you had to make the best of it, but you had no idea how. A recruit walking with me. Didn’t look older than 20, bright and fresh out of a failed semester of college…

Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny, about 5,6

“You ready for 13 weeks of hell?” He said with a laugh

“I’m gonna fucking die.” You swear you have a grey hair or two

“Ah- you didn’t do your research, did you?” He snickered.

You take a deep breath and try to relax. You realize he was joking, and you smile back. “I was drunk the day after I signed up for the Marines” you muttered

He laughed and slapped your back, “It's ok, I was too.” You both laughed and went on with your day. “I thought my parents were gonna kill me when I failed college.”

“This base has a lot of donations so from what I heard we get a dorm with three other people instead of getting sick and a big ass barrack room.” He nudged your shoulder

Before you could respond you all are brought inside to empty your bag of any personal stuff you thought you would need, but, there was barely anything you brought you needed, you got your ass chewed out a lot for the stuff, but a good idea to bring face stuff…

After you got your uniform and blah, blah, blah, dorms…blah, blah, blah. The first phase was physical training m, no fun outing limits but at least you weren't the fake orange blondes who ended up in the ER after trying to show off by not pacing themselves during a two-mile run.

By the end of the day, you were ready to fall asleep for a whole day, which wasn't the case because it turns out you get less sleep here than in college. The aching in your muscles wasn't any better

One thing you didn’t complain about i how your uniform seem to hug you in all the right places. So much for being a Vitoria secret model, you were serving the country with ass, tits, and waist.

There was a change up one day in workouts, it wasn't your drill instructor, she had to go out for a family emergency and the other had gotten a new batch of rookies so they had their hands full.

He was tall, tall, like Russian tirmanator from the movies. 6,7, bear built, very muscular, like if he squeezed you with his hands your body would shatter, his skin wasn't pale but wasn't very tan either, he has icey cold grey eyes, no blue…not green. Grey. Maybe even silver. He wore a camo balaclava only showing his eyebrows and eyes, from the look of his brows he had dark brown hair underneath the mask. He had the normal pt gear of drill sergeants but from the look of his rank, he was much higher than any sergeant.

The new person in charge was strict and made you work harder than anyone else. You had to work through the drills without stopping and your only option was to keep going until you were done. It was a difficult day but you got through it.

But you couldn't lie when he yelled or did workouts you got wetter than reading smut off an illegal site.

The higher-ups had agreed to keep him working as our PT instructor so we wouldn’t slack.

But by the end of the second week he had disappeared, rumored that his wife cheated with an Air Force twink, a pretty nasty divorce. They said it might take more than two years to go through court.

You were standing in formation with the others as the lady drill instructor just got off the phones, looking at all of us she points at you.

“Cadet (last name), you may fall out of formation. I need you to take these papers down to First Lieutenant Lewandowski.” She handed you the papers and you went on your way

You saluted the officer and made your way to his office. Opening the door you find your old drill Instructor, no ring on his finger but still the same terrifying build, at least he didn’t give up on self-care after the divorce.

He was sitting in front of the computer, rubbing his eyes with a stressed and distraught face. You placed the papers down softly so as to not make anything worse on him. You want to ask how he is but you were only a rookie who didn’t even know the dudes First name.

But he seemed to sense it as he looked down at the papers and back to you, a stare that would make Satan curl up in a ball. “I do not mind if you ask. It would be deeply appreciated.”

You nodded with hesitation “Are you okay? Uhm… Lutienetate” You both knew the answer

“First Lutienate,” he said with a deep but soft tone

“Frist Lutienate…” you whispered

“Sit down.”

“Yes sir.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Bingo: Mike Duarte x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @ResonMalvo @littleone65 @mydarkestsecretlol @evee87

Everyone knows that Mike Durate doesn’t work a Thursday evening but no one seems to know why.  There’s rumours of course, a secret taskforce, a scheduled meeting with a C.I, a woman but you’ve seen no evidence to confirm any one of them. Still it niggles at you, when you watch your Captain pull on his jacket and stride out the door at exactly 6pm.

You’re still thinking about it when there’s a knock at your door at 7pm. It’s Mrs Jacobson from the house across the street. Her bingo partner has begged off sick and she needs a ride because she doesn’t drive so well at night anymore. It’s the only social event she attends during the week and the thought of her sitting home alone missing it kills you, so you grab your keys and drive to the senior centre a couple of miles away.

“You should come in with me, play a game or two.” She tells you as she reapplies her lipstick in your rearview mirror. “Our bingo caller is very handsome.”

You laugh politely because the image it conjures is of a silver haired, eighty year old man who calls the numbers with the gusto of a cruise ship director. When you escort her into the senior centre you can see your assumption is correct, Derek is geriatric and very interested in the fresh face whose shown up in their midst.

You manage to escape because the lights above you flash on and off indicating that the game is about to start. When you take your seat next to Mrs Jacobson, your don’t expect a dark haired man to sit down alongside of you, one you happen to know very well.

“What are you doing here?” Mike Duarte practically hisses at you.

You can’t speak because you’re too shocked to open your mouth. You can’t believe that your Captain is sitting right here with bingo marker in his hand, ready to throw down.

“I said…”

“I heard what you said.” You respond, finally finding your voice. “My neighbour invited me, the question is what are you doing here?”

He’s silent for a second, his dark eyes boring into yours before he clicks his tongue and tilts his head towards an older woman approaching the table.

“I’m here with Maria. Her husband died last year and she doesn’t like to come alone.” He tells you as he toys with the lid of his bingo marker. “She helped me raise my brother and sister after my mother died, my father…”

He trails off then because he realises he’s betrayed himself. He doesn’t talk about his history, it’s a part of himself he keeps locked deep inside. The problem is you have a soothing presence and he constantly finds himself falling into that trap. It’s why he tries to keep a little distance between the two of you, he’s too terrified of revealing himself as something other than the fierce Captain you’ve become accustomed to.

“Mrs Jacobson kinda adopted me when I moved to the neighbourhood.” You find yourself telling him. “My house was part of one of those police buyback programmes, it’s meant to make the block a little safer. She doesn’t like the idea that I was a single woman living on my own so she checks in on me every so often, brings by dinner.”

It takes Mike a minute to process that information. He opens his mouth to say something but the lights flash once more and the game begins. You can’t help but sneak glances at him throughout the session. His dark eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, he bites his lower lips as he studies the numbers, scowls when someone on another table calls ‘House’. Yet there’s a tenderness that you’ve never seen him exhibit inside of work. He’s kind as he helps Maria with her bingo card, checking her numbers, smiling when she get a line.

“Better luck next time.” He tells you as the lights go up, signalling the end of the game. Maria and Mrs Jacobson hurry off towards the bathroom as he raises to his feet, pulling on his jacket. “Will I see you here next week?”

“I’m not sure bingo is really my game.” You tell him as you begin to gather up the used bingo squares into a neat pile.

“It wasn’t mine either.” He admits as he helps you organise them. “But it does me good, having some sort of a social life outside of work, even if it is with people thirty years older than me.”  

The edges of his mouth tip up into smile and something blossoms in your chest, because Mike, he’s quite handsome when he doesn’t have a perpetual grimace on his features.

“Maybe you will see me next week.” You say, your shoulder accidently nudging against his as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. The way he looks at you in that moment, it’s the start of something, you can feel it. You can tell he feels it too because his cheeks colour just a little before he tears himself away.

“Good.” He says gruffly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. “And if you could keep this just between the two of us…”

“Don’t worry Captain.” You says as you pick up your purse, setting it upon your shoulder. “You’re secret’s safe with me.”

Love Mike? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bluntsandcigs]

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

“𝐈’𝐦 breaking up with you”

Your boyfriend, for better or worse, was the love of your life and it was a fact that you sometimes lamented in moments when he was being especially insufferable. While certainly not without his good qualities, he had a list a mile long full of traits which often made you want to lob a pillow at his head, regardless of his Infinity. His tendency to be the world’s greatest troll was very high on the aforementioned list and he wielded his devious side with all the wicked glee of a well-seasoned trickster. You supposed being his girlfriend and thus someone he was exceedingly fond of meant you probably got off easy where his pranks were concerned. You’d met the likes of Utahime and Kento on occasion and both seemed perpetually prepared to kill him with lethal stares alone. You, on the other hand, despite often putting up with his nonsense were lucky enough to also be on the receiving side of his best side. With you he was thoughtful, funny, incredibly charming, and intensely dedicated to ensuring that you were constantly having the best sex of your life.

You loved him deeply and dearly.

But, you were also debating throwing him right out of your apartment in what little he was wearing.

Despite your claim that you were leaving him, Gojo’s smug grin remained steadfast and he made not even the slightest attempt to waylay your obvious annoyance with some of the sweeter playfulness you adored. He appeared to be delighted by the deadpanned irritation in your voice and plastered on your unsmiling face, his objective to vex you succeeding spectacularly. Glancing to your left, towards the small shelf of decorative knickknacks you kept there, you debated grabbing the first plush toy you could get your hands on just to chuck it right at him. Unfortunately, Gojo knew you too well and he tutted in response to your obvious considerations.

“Now, now, you can’t possibly be mad at me, can you? I’m only giving you what you said you wanted.”

“This is so not what I meant.”

Gojo, despite coming off as regularly lackadaisical missed very little and he’d been damn well privy to every single instance over the past year where you’d mused over your desire for a cat. Your love of animals, particularly those prone to purring and pouncing, was no big secret. The countless cat videos you’d cooed over and feline plush dolls that decorated your bedroom broadcast your love of the whiskered creatures just as clearly as your words did. He knew, damn well, that you’d been growing more and more keen on the idea of adopting a sweet little kitty of your very own. When he’d responded to your last remark towards future pet ownership with a grin and a none-too-covert comment that you might soon find yourself with a surprise over the next few days, you’d been giddy with anticipation. When he’d go through with it and what sort of cat he’d adopt in ‘secret’ had kept you on gleeful pins and needles for close to a week.

Now, as you stared at your almost naked boyfriend where he’d perched himself on your bed, you wished you hadn’t dedicated a single iota towards being excited.

“You said you wanted a cat, didn’t you? I thought this was what you meant.”

Glowering and well aware that he was feigning obvious ignorance, the fucking troll, you watched as Gojo adjusted his sultry pose for one that had his ass arching up for a better glimpse of the cat tail attached to the back of his underwear. It and the ears he’d fastened to his head with a well-placed headband were as black as you’d suddenly decided his soul was.

“Come on, babe. I had to give my girl the best of the best and you can’t deny that there’s no cuter kitty out there than yours truly.”

His grin stretched wider still and he made a sound deceptively close to an actual purr, the noise nearer to seduction than adoring affection. You were resolved to be unmoved by what you knew was an attempt to turn you on, turning towards the doorway which would lead you back into the living room.

“If I leave now I can probably get to an animal shelter before it closes.”

“Aw, you’re really leaving?”

He sounded genuinely pouty and disappointed and you were resolute about not caring in the slightest.

“Would I have been more convincing if I’d gone the tail butt plug route instead?”

The comment almost stalled you, because damn if that particular idea didn’t boast some level of promise, but you refused to be moved. At least not so easily. You took a step and stilled before you could take another, Gojo at your back so lightning fast you hadn’t even registered his movements until you felt the rush of air which signified them. He wrapped his arms solidly around your waist, nuzzling his face against the curve of your neck with an almost comical mimic of a cat’s meow. It would’ve maybe be a little cute if it wasn’t so infuriating, but it was definitely amusing and you bit back a tiny chortle of laughter with all the willpower you could muster. If he was going to be a goddamn menace then you weren’t about to make things easy for him.

“You don’t think I make a good kitty?”

“No. You make a good clown, though. Truly world-class on that front.”

“Ouch! I can’t believe my mistress is so cruel! Especially when I was so ready to give her all the cuddles!”

Anyone else probably would’ve been embarrassed to act so cutesy and forlorn, playing up the role of disappointed house pet, but shame was one trait Gojo had never gotten any real hang of. The man had enough cockiness to walk totally starkers through Roppongi without so much of a chance of blushing, so acting ridiculous behind closed doors was well within his comfort wheelhouse. Sometimes you wished you had even a drop of that kind of unflappable confidence.

“I doubt your type of cuddles is the kind I was hoping for, Satoru,” you grumbled, waiting patiently for him to just let the damn joke die already.

“Oh?”

You knew he was grinning even with the lack of seeing it, the wide spread of annoyingly kissable lips sure to be revealing those perfectly pearly whites of his. You felt teeth grazing your neck, a subtle scrap that settled into the tiniest nip where your pulse throbbed with a quiet drumming beneath your skin. His long fingers stretched and spread across your hips, pinkie fingers curling around the front belt loops of your jeans.

“What if I was gonna give you whatever cuddles you wanted? However you wanted them? What about that then, hmmm? Would that make me a good kitty? Would it make you wanna keep me?”

Gojo’s hips shimmied from side to side and you weren’t entirely positive if it was his attempt at making his tail sway or a not even remotely subtle effort to grind his cock against your ass. Knowing him, it had to be a little bit of both and feeling how hard he already was, as if he’d been eagerly anticipating the satisfaction of his cat boy fantasies, made it harder to deny him out of spite. You were annoyed for sure and never very keen to give him precisely what he wanted when he was being a pain in the ass, but Gojo was also stupidly good at making you cum. His talents in the bedroom were almost ludicrous in their effectiveness and if he was exceptionally game to give you precisely what you wanted, at least in a sexual respect, it wasn’t exactly easy to refute the possibilities.

He rumbled out another mockery of a purr and dragged his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck, wet and smooth instead of at all scratchy like a real cat’s would have been. Perfect for making you feel good and curse your weak resolve, but you already felt wet just from thinking about how satisfied you’d be in the next few minutes if you relented.

“If you let me, I can eat your pussy so good you probably won’t even be mad at me anymore.”

“Wouldn’t eating my pussy technically count as some kind of cannibalism right now?” you asked him ruefully and you were rewarded with a delighted snicker in response, Gojo’s arms hugging you tighter.

“Oh, this kitty right here is keeping you. All mine. Can’t get rid of me no matter how bad you try.”

It gave you butterflies every time he said things like that, made little comments to suggest that for all his flightiness and reputation for being a player, he wanted to try for something more permanent with you. He may have been playing and playful, his default setting most days it seemed, but the words made your heart soar even so. The annoyance you felt from discovering his devious little prank hadn’t exactly fled in the wake of your affection, but it was tempered by it to some extent. If you were giving in to his hopes, you were giving in to them exactly the way you wanted and you weren’t about to let your obnoxious cat boy get away with his mischief entirely.

You shifted and turned, moving around in the cradle of Gojo’s arms to face him, mirroring the wicked glee on his face as your hand sandwiched itself in the space between your body and his. His brows shot up high, the shades he wore shifting down the slope of his nose just enough to give you a hint of the mesmerizing blue behind them. However, he looked quite pleased by the feel of your fingers squeezing around his cock. He was warm, even through the material of his underwear, and it was all too easy to map out the exact shape of his length with the cloth barrier in your way. You tried not to shiver just from feeling him, well-versed in how thick and long he was, the fullness that came with his erection sliding home inside your body an aching feeling you welcomed once you’d gotten used to it. That sensation was as dear to you as how honest Gojo’s reactions always were, nothing of his pleasure ever restrained or held back and it was as true in that moment as it had been since your first time together. Gojo’s smile grew wider and he let out a truly arousing groan as your palm rubbed against his shaft, fingers promising more.

“That can’t be all. Come on now,” you cooed, stealing a kiss from his lips and tasting the strawberry flavor of his chapstick. “Be a good kitty and let me know how good this feels.”

The band of his underwear stretched against the back of your wrist once you pressed your hand inside, fingers wrapped in a tight fist just beneath the tip of his cock, already leaking for you. It pleased you to feel his precum there, provided the slightest bit of slickness to help you roll your hand down his erection all the way to the base and lower, cupping his sac with a gentle squeeze that had Satoru’s hips bucking. The pressure made his dick weep further, smoothing out your strokes and providing you with what you needed to pump your hand over him in slippery glides he so clearly loved. Satoru mumbled your name, the smugness of his countenance wavering before the mounting pleasure. Those beautiful blue eyes of his fluttered closed, snowy lashes close to his cheeks, and seeing his mouth drop open for every sound of sensual delight was an utter joy. You loved it when you had him right where you wanted him, when just the feel of your hands coming together to work his shaft could make his thighs tremble. Your boyfriend may have been an incorrigible mischief maker who did so love to turn you into a soaking mess, but he could sometimes be so desperate for your touch.

Eager and greedy and all for you.

You needed more.

“Noooo!”

He outright whined when your hands left his dick, the length of it visibly throbbing with his yearning. His neediness was adorable with those cute little cat ears on his head and inwardly you considered how much better he’d look with the additional of a little bell collar, wondering if he might be into that in the future. Knowing Satoru and his never-failing interest in all sorts of sexual experimentation, he likely would’ve been thrilled by the idea.

“Don’t pout.”

You tried to kiss the look off his face, but it remained, Satoru steadfast and resolute to look as adorably put off as he could. When your fingers moved from his body to your own, tugging the shirt off your body with a notable urgency, his expression swiftly morphed into one that was greatly intrigued. Dissatisfaction was replaced with delight as his eyes raked so longingly over your half-naked frame, tongue working across his lips like someone had waved his favorite snack before his face the second your bra hit the floor. Teeth clamped down lightly on soft lips, Satoru shimmying his hips to sway his little tail as if to suggest that the sight of you briefly rubbing your nipples might be enough to make him pounce.

Like you were a mouse, his chosen prey.

You were no such thing and you lightly pushed at his chest to make him back away, give you room to lower your body down onto your knees. You pinched your nipples, peaks tight and providing the softest zing of pleasure through your breasts, smirking as you angled your chest towards him. His eyes widened and his smile was one of unadulterated excitement, a shaky exhale marking his happiness as his cock settled against the valley between your breasts. His hips moved, hands bracing against the wall behind you so he could thrust his slick erection through the soft crevice you’d provided him, his gaze enraptured by the view. He was long, just long enough that you could bend your head to tease the tip of his dick each time it drifted upwards, a thick weight nestled between the softness of your tits. The taste of him was warm and a little salty on your tongue, but you always found yourself wanting more, relishing each chance to caress the smooth head of his cock with a hurried swirl of your tongue.

“Feels so fucking good. Your pretty tits and that sweet little tongue on my cock. Can never get enough of this.”

“Wanna keep going then, Satoru? Wanna keep going until you’ve got my chest all covered in your cum?”

His hips shuddered, briefly angling towards a few faster thrusts through the warm cradle of your breasts. Gojo’s head shook, shades going further askew upon his face until he finally tossed them aside, unconcerned with anything other than his pleasure to care if they ended up broken on the floor. It was you that he treated with more care, freeing himself from the building ecstasy you’d been giving him to lift you into his arms, transporting you to the cushioned softness of your bed in seconds. He moved so fast you felt temporarily dizzy, but not so terribly that you missed how desperately he removed your jeans and panties, stripping you in a panting frenzy of need. It didn’t feel as if anything had been torn, no sounds of ripped denim stitching reaching your ears, but you knew that he could’ve destroyed your remaining clothing with ease had he wanted to. Gojo rather liked proving how easily he could rend fabric of all types from your frame and he’d been a fan of making buttons fly until you’d start grousing about having to mend or buy new clothes whenever the two of you felt horny. His restraint in that respect was surprising given how eager he happened to be. Gojo didn’t often put so swift a stop to foreplay, especially not whenever you had his cock nestled so pretty between your tits. He must have been waiting for you to come home for even longer than you’d anticipated for him to be so excessively keyed up.

“Impatient, are we, kitty?” you asked him, trying with your all not to sound breathless in your own state of anticipatory need.

“Say that like your cunt isn’t all juicy and ready for me.”

A gaze painted even clearer than sky blue roved with heated, covetous delight over the glistening wet of your pussy, lips pulled towards smug as he held your legs aloft, apart. Denying that you were exceedingly turned on would’ve been a bold-faced lie with the proof that you were lusting hard for your boyfriend right there before his eyes. It couldn’t stop you shrugging your shoulders, lifting your arms up above your head to present a picture of relaxation as well as readiness, fixing him with a smirk that beamed pride. Gojo’s plan could have been to seduce you all along, at least after he’d finished being a Special Grade pest yet he’d been just as seduced himself. He may have had all his ideas lined up like dominoes ready to be knocked down in a precise order, but his cock was flushed and hard where it came to rest against your folds. The tip still leaked with the evidence of how overcome he was by his need to have you, drips of heated precum dotting the top of your pubic mound with just one throb from his erection. Whatever Gojo’s exact intentions must have been had flown entirely out the window and he was clearly as impatient to cum as you were. He was the world’s strongest sorcerer, but making him ache to have you without having to really try made you feel pretty damn powerful yourself. After how much he’d irked you a few minutes ago, you were rather grateful for the ego stroking.

“You want me just as bad.”

“Then do something about it.”

You presented your dare with a squeeze of your hand around the head of his cock, a warm grasp that he thrust his length towards and the gliding motion had his thickness sliding perfectly across your clit. Smile wavering with a moan, Gojo tugged your hand away from his dick and brought your palm to his mouth, kissing lightly and dragging his tongue over the light taste of himself on your skin. When he lowered your hand, it was to rest it beside its twin against the sheets, his eyes darting towards the sight of your fingers clutching tight to the bedding once he pressed your legs together. Your thighs formed a tight haven for his shaft, different and sweeter than fucking your tits because the added softness of your pussy was right there underneath. Sodden folds, swollen from the craving for him, rubbing along the underside of his cock to coat it in further slickness and it made the process of fucking his erection along your clit so much easier. It wasn’t the same as being inside you, as having him stretching you open until you swore you felt him touching deeper than anyone ever had, but it may as well have been heaven regardless.

“Satoru, that feels so good..”

“Feels so much better than good to me, baby,” Gojo huffed, barely holding on to his smile as he rolled his hips with a mix of mounting, pleasured desperation and controlled precision. “Don’t even have to be inside you to make us both feel good. Can make you cum so hard just from doing this.”

He was right, truthful, and you could feel how every stroke of his smooth cockhead brushing across your bud was pushing you towards a mounting bliss that would have the thighs pressed around his cock shaking in no time flat. He felt so hard and hot against you, the wet of your cunt audibly slickening his flesh further until the sound was deliciously close to the familiar cacophony that filled your bedroom whenever he was inside you. It was wonderful yet excruciating, fulfilling your needs while leaving you anxious for more, aware of the empty feeling inside you. Gojo would never leave you unsatisfied, because he never had, but the longer he thrust his way between your thighs, the deeper your wants became.

“You can. I know you can. But, fuck, Satoru, it’d be so good if you were inside me. Even better than this.”

Gojo’s groan said he knew, that he remembered how tight you were and how perfectly the squeeze of your inner walls always milked him dry. He seemed to struggle for a moment with keeping his eyes open, crystalline hue half-hidden by lowered lids as he stared down at the repeated peek of his cockhead questing forward through the crevice of your thighs. You glanced down to see it too, trembling with pleasure as you watched his tip rub and grind against your clit, bucking your hips up to ensure the pressure intensified. You moaned and it was a weak sound, an orgasm threatening to tear its way through you before long, leading your fingers from the sheets to your own chest, pinching your nipples. Gojo’s hips stuttered from the sight, his hooded glance drawn up your body and higher, locking on your face.

“Later,” he promised you finally, tone throaty and strained as groans pitched into near whines. “I’ll be inside you for as long as you want later. But..”

He smirked, like a devil with the face of an angel, dressed up in the cheap cat costume which had started it all.

“Kitty’s gotta mark you now.”

It should’ve made you cringe or laugh. It probably could have had you doing both at the same time, cheesy as the comment was. Especially with his eager thrusts shaking the cat ears on his head until the band holding them in place looked poised to fall right off. You just didn’t have it in you to care about the silliness or anything beyond the fact that he was making you cum, your throbbing clit and the unrelenting drag of his cock across it pulling an orgasm through your core before you could truly even prepare for the fall. Gojo didn’t have to be nestled deep to feel your climax overtaking you, seeing it before him in the sharp arch of your back and the kneading of your hands across your breasts hurriedly moving back to the sheets. You kept your eyes open in the thick of it, gazing up at your lover as he watched you come undone with parted lips, seeming hypnotized by the visage of your release before him. He didn’t blink, an almost ethereal vision made human by the way his own control faltered, broken and splintered by his own fall to ruin. Gojo’s cock pulsed against your puffy cunt and he cried out his satisfaction as it spilled across your belly and chest, haphazard lines as white as his hair marking your sweaty skin.

He turned his head, pressing his teeth into the side of one of your calves just hard enough to leave a mark, but it was difficult to even mind any hurt there could have been while the two of you came together. Sensations too good to be real burrowed beneath your skin, carried through the pit of your being to every part of it, and you let the ebb and flow persist for as long as it must, savoring the wonder of being brought to the edge so easily. It was always a marvel to you in the aftermath, as your latest orgasm slowly found its way towards softening, how successfully Gojo could please you and how much it could leave you craving more. Your body still shook, your pussy intensely soaked from how hard you’d just cum, but the aching he inspired in you lingered deep where you wanted him to be, almost enough to make you forget that you’d initially been cross with him.

Curse him and his magic dick and his stupidly pretty, wonderful face.

God, you were so in love with him.

The feeling appeared to be very mutual, broadcast like a song across airwaves and carried to you through the look he gave you once the messy pulsing of his spend finally halted. Gojo peered down at you with a smile, less smug and more sweet than you expected he would’ve easily let others see on him. He looked close to swooning, though he may have just been a little fuck drunk from his orgasm, yet you could see past the post-sex daze to glimpse the more that was written in those eyes of his. You weren’t always sure of it, battling with the perceptions of his reputation and your own insecurities, but the softness of how he looked at you was there, as sweet as the way he kissed you when he lowered your legs to lean down. Gojo stole as many kisses as he pleased, each one slow and savoring, lasting until he saw fit to nuzzle his face against your neck with a mimicked purr that had you hugging him with legs and arms alike. You petted the cat ears off his head, grazing your nails through snowy white locks to make him repeat the noise a second time. When it had you giggling, a sound he claimed numerous times to be his favorite, Gojo lifted his head to grin at you and he looked pleased with himself, victorious in a way that would’ve made you pinch him had you not felt so good just then.

“So, are you gonna keep me?”

“Hmmm..I dunno..”

“Seriously?! I made you cum in less than five minutes! That’s gotta be worthy of a forever home!”

“Yeah, maybe, but as far as pets go, you’re kind of a messy one, Satoru. I mean, just look.”

You gestured towards your chest with a hand, reminding him of the spill of cum he’d gotten all across your bare breasts and stomach, as well as his own now. Gojo looked temporarily pleased and more than a little aroused by the sight of his so recent release painting your body, but he let the delight fade into a mask of determination. He hopped off the bed, tucking himself back into his underwear, and he marched out of your bedroom with a purposeful stride that seemed less serious than he may have meant it to when he whistled along the way. The whiplash of his strange, mercurial moods had your head shaking, though not without affection, and you climbed off the bed to give your still tingling body a good stretch, heading towards your dresser for some pajamas to change into in the near future. Quite possibly after Gojo had fucked your brains out the way you were anticipating that he soon would.

The motions of your feet carrying you across the room stopped at the strange sounds you heard just beyond the open door, straining your ears to listen. Nearby in the bathroom, you could hear Gojo making shushing noises, talking in a low whisper you could catch without being quite able to discern the exact words he was saying. You looked around the room, spying his cellphone nestled atop your table along with his usual clothing. Who was he talking to?

When he returned to you, moistened washrag in hand, you noticed how he seemed to pointedly avoid your gaze while he set to work cleaning his cum from your body. The whistling which had gone with him out the room resumed, a little louder and appearing far more like a distraction than it should have.

“If you’re hiding another prank or something, I am officially going to cockblock you for the rest of the night. I mean it.”

“You’re an awfully suspicious woman.”

“I’m dating the trolliest troll to ever troll. I think I’m well within my right to be suspicious of whatever shenanigans you’ve got up your sleeve. So, come on. No more surprises, Satoru. What was with the whispering in the other room?”

Withholding his answer until he could finally see your brow beginning to pinch, waiting for the reaction of near annoyance he’d been hoping for like the wicked little shit he was, Gojo tossed the washrag into your dirty clothes hamper and strode out of the room again. Left standing there, questions unanswered, you fought not to simply follow him or start rubbing your temples, electing to just wait for whatever was coming next. Knowing Gojo, it could’ve been anything. Ferreting through drawers for something to change into since the possibility of further mischief had cooled your lingering arousal, you tugged on a long t-shirt as soon as you got your hands on one, rooting further to find a fresh pair of panties.

Gojo cleared his throat from the doorway, halting your quest prematurely, and the frustrated look on your face was gone the second you saw what he had held so gently in his large hands.

“Oh.”

“Yep,” he replied, massive smile beaming, happily smug from your shocked reaction. “Not what you were expecting at all, was it?”

He stroked one long finger underneath a tiny chin, the fluffy kitten in his hands purring from the attention and staring at you with the biggest blue eyes you’d ever seen, aside from your boyfriend’s. It looked like Gojo was cradling a living, breathing powder puff and you felt your heart threatening to absolutely burst at the view of such a precious creature just within reach. You wanted to ask him where and when he’d managed to find such a gorgeous cat, but your emotions were threatening to get the better of you, questions hard to manage when you were so happy.

“Satoru.”

“Hey, baby, don’t cry. This was suppose to be a good surprise. I mean, obviously not as good as me being dressed up all sexy, but still good, right?”

Gojo took a step forward and he extended his fuzzy surprise out to you in the clear hope that holding the kitten would make you smile again. You grinning through the tiny spill of tears that made your vision glossy and gingerly brought the tiny fur baby to your chest, trying not to squeal at how readily the kitty leaned into the cheek scritches you gave.

“No, it’s a really good surprise, Satoru. A happy cry kind of surprise, I promise.”

“Oh. Whew. Okay. That’s a relief. I don’t know what I’d have done if you suddenly decided to reject Satoru the Second.”

Purrs rumbled sweetly against your chest, a sound and sensation you’d been hoping to have in your life for months. It comforted you, elated you, and those feelings couldn’t be beaten by anything, not even the absurdity of the name your boyfriend had chosen.

“We’re definitely not naming him that.”

“We have to, though! He looks just like me! It only makes sense to name him after me!”

“Nope. Definitely not. I veto.”

“We could call him ‘Toru for short?”

“What about something cute? Like Pancake?”

“Okay, maybe you’re onto something, but if we’re going with naming him after something sweet, it at least ought to match how he looks. What about Mochi? Or Marshmallow?”

Gojo came closer, rambling off a list of dessert related names he felt might be suited to the ball of pure fluff that seemed completely content in your hands, like he knew he’d found his forever home with the two weird humans that surrounded him. Your boyfriend started petting the kitten’s head, showing his own immediate affection for the pet he’d been planning to gift you all along.

He may have taken a very roundabout way of revealing what he’d done for you, but in truth his methods hadn’t been all that bad. Gojo could be a menace in the best and worst ways. That much was a fact known to anybody who associated with him.

To you, however, he was the sweetest nuisance.

Silly cat boy costumes and all.

[barefoothighlander]

absolution - it will come back

-simon 'ghost' riley x wife!reader

-warnings: canon typical violence, mdni (18+), death, smut, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, jealous!ghost, praise, mentions of alcohol, unwanted male attention

-word count: 4k

-summary: you and the 141 set out for your first mission together, enduring the challenge and everything that comes after

prev chapter fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: alright finally got around to writing this chapter, just a pre-emptive warning, this fic is gonna have a fair amount of smut just in case you don't like to read it, or if you just want to skip over those sections. Also if you got the notif for this at 5am... no you didn't.

The air was thick with dust, it settled in the air after the disruption from a few select explosives, courtesy Soap, you were positioned high on an old building, a few miles out from the target building. You had been laying there for over an hour, settling yourself before the rest of the team got into position, you and Ghost had made a point to keep a distance between the two of you, trying to avoid any sort of detection from the team. It wasn’t hard to distance yourself from him, you were married to Simon, not the Ghost, yes, you were acquainted with his alter, but that was a side of him that left when he came home, it had been years since you came face to face with the Ghost, welcoming him back almost as an old friend.

You started getting restless, your clothes suddenly feeling far too heavy on your body, shifting slightly from your position, you readjust your scope before you hear a quick whizzing beside your ear, stopping for a second to figure out if you had simply imagined it another shot. “Shit” you whisper to yourself. In your movement the sun had caught on your scope, reflecting it toward the target building, and someone had spotted you. Quickly disassembling your rifle you turn on your comms.

“Captain this is Strider, I’m compromised, moving to position two”

“Copy Strider, make it quick we’re about to breach”

You descend through the building, running through back alleys to avoid the public gaze, making your way as fast as you can to your secondary position, you and Price had strategized a handful of points for you to position in, in case of anything going wrong. You make your way to the second position in time to watch the 141 breach into the building, hearing the all-too-familiar sound of gunshots ringing through your comms. You hear the team call out their positions, adjusting your sight to get a good view of each individual member.

“Strider, I’m headed up, you have eyes?” Soaps voice calls through your earpiece.

“Negative, Johnny” you respond back

“Strider I’ve got two coming out, east side, do you have eyes on them?” Ghost asks

You take a breath, and fire two rounds.

“Count, two down east side” you answer back.

Ghost can’t fight the smirk that creeps up on his face under his mask, he’s seen you work first hand and he’s always been impressed, rarely did you miss a shot. The men continue clearing the building, calling out any targets they need you to take care of, and killing the rest themselves.

“I don’t see any more movement in the building,” you say

“Copy, ears out for the hostage” Price responds

“Captain the buildings are empty” You hear Gaz say

“Are you sure Sargeant?”

“Positive, no one’s here”

Price curses to himself and calls for the men to exit the building and meet at the rendezvous point. You follow his orders, packing up your rifle and making your way once again through the streets. You arrive at a rundown warehouse, greeted by the rest of the team, you look around and everyone has a worried expression painted on their faces.

“I’ve contacted Laswell, she’s reaching out to contacts to try and track down the target,” Price said to all of you

“So what now?” you ask

“We regroup at the base, I have some calls to make, we move from there”

The group nods in agreement and you all make your way to the cars outside, settling into the passenger beside Price, and in front of Gaz. The ride was quiet, aside from any small conversation made by the three of you, Gaz inquiring about your history with the military.

“I spent 5 years with this team in the States before transferring to the base in England.”

“What’d you do in the states”

“Um, mostly hostage negotiations in the middle east”

“So why transfer?” Gaz asks

“What do you mean?” you respond, turning to face him

“Well why leave your team? I mean you spent 5 years with them, I can’t imagine what would’ve brought you to the UK”

“Needed a break from field word I guess, before this op I mostly spent time training recruits and dealing with paperwork”

“Huh” Gaz nods, you quirk an eyebrow at his response. “It’s just, I’ve read your file, over 400 confirmed kills from just 5 years, seems like alot of talent left on the field”

You scoff at him.

“I didn’t mean it that way I just-” He raises his hands defensively.

“Better stop now Sargeant, before you’re in too deep” Price says, laughing to himself

You huff a laugh, “It’s alright Kyle, I just found something more important than field ops” 

“A guy? Did you leave for a guy?” Gaz’ face lights up with a smile, you laugh and shake your head, turning to face infront of you, Price and Gaz sharing a look with eachother through the rearview mirror.

The team was in rather bright spirits arriving back at base, even though you hadn’t gotten your target, everyone made it out without more than a scratch, you pass Soap who gives you a nudge with his shoulder and commends your talents.

“Great shooting lass,” he says as you respond with a meek smile, Ghost watching the encounter from behind the two of you. You continue in light conversation with Soap as he talks about how he took down 3 men at once, two with a single shot, you laugh at his cockiness.

As you enter the base and make your way down the hall to your room, you feel a strong arm tug your waist, pulling you into a near closet. Turning to face him he stares you down, the room is dark but you can see a slight shine in his eyes, eyes you could never mistake for anyone else. You reach your hands to pull at his mask but he grabs your wrists, stopping your actions.

“What was that?” he asks, his tone deep

“What?”

“With Soap, you seemed rather entranced with what he had to say”

“I was just laughing with him Si-”

Before you can finish your sentence he spins your body and pins your arms behind your back, pushing you forward into the wall.

“Simon we were just chatting,” you say breathlessly as he presses his body against yours, forcing your cheek to flatten against the cold wall. The rough grip of his hands tugging on your wrists as he lowers his head to your shoulder

“Do you think he could fuck you like I do?”

“What?” you ask trying to turn your head to look at him, he presses you harder against the wall, you can feel his hardening cock against your ass. “No,” you say through a gasp “no one can”.

He seems content with your answer, removing one of his hands to reach around and unbutton your pants, sliding his hand down your pants, teasing over your clothed sex. You close your eyes as your jaw falls open over the sudden contact. He presses his forehead to the back of your head, the teeth of his mask digging into your scalp as he pulls your panties to the side to slide a finger teasingly over your clit.

“Fuck Si-”

“No, you know the rule, no using our names on base”

“Ghost please” you plead

“Good girl” you can feel his breath down the nape of your neck, he slides a finger into your pussy. “So wet already”

“For you fuck all for you,” you say as he adds another finger and begins to pump faster, you arch your back into him, craving more contact.

“Needy girl, need you to cum on my fingers first”

You moan as he continues fingering you, bending his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside you while bringing his thumb to circle over your clit.

“Need to be quiet love, don’t want someone walking in here”

You bite your lip trying to contain your moans as your forehead comes into contact with the wall, Ghost removes his grip from your wrist, bringing his gloved hand up to cover your mouth before using the leverage to collide your bodies, arching your body back into his. You turn your head and settle into his neck while your hand finds purchase, gripping his tactical vest, trying to ground yourself.

Ghost feels you clenching around his fingers as he picks up his pace urging your orgasm closer, you reach your free hand down to grab at his large forearm, trying to keep your body upright as your legs begin to feel wobbly.

“That’s right baby, cum all over my hand”

He pumps his fingers a few more times and your eyesight blurs, feeling your ass press back against his cock as he fingers you through your orgasm, not removing his fingers till he feels you unclench. He releases your body and you fall forward, catching yourself on the wall before he kneels down to take your pants off, kneading the flesh of your hips and thighs, grabbing handfuls of your ass before bringing his hand back to your soaked vagina. Your hips twitch at the contact, trying to catch your breath as you hear the sound of his belt undoing. 

In one swift motion, he turns your body around and locks his arms under your legs, lifting you up against the wall, your arms falling around his neck as you try to steady yourself. He reaches a hand down to line himself up before pushing into you in one solid motion, burying his cock deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix. 

Usually, he gave you time to adjust to his size, but as soon as he was inside you, feeling the clench of your warm walls he couldn’t help himself. He pins your body against the wall as he begins thrusting into you, hands gripping hard at your waist as he keeps his eyes locked on your face, enjoying every flutter of your eyelashes, every twitch of your mouth that came with the pleasure you were experiencing. He’s fucking you hard against the wall, you can feel your spine digging into the concrete behind you, grabbing at his neck, his shoulders, anything you could reach. He reaches a hand up to grab your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Whose pussy is this doll”

“Fuck, yours, it’s yours Ghost” you say as your head falls forward to rest against his shoulder.

“That’s right, mine” He emphasizes the last word with a hard thrust that has a choked sob escaping your throat. You bury your face in his shoulder, biting at the fabric to quiet your moans as he brings a hand down to toy at your clit once again. Your second orgasm hits you quick and has you seeing stars, muffled moans escaping your throat as drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth, leaking out to wet his shirt.

Once you came down from your high Ghost released you, setting you down with a hold on your waist, pressing you again against the wall and immediately thrusting back into you, your slick pooling at the base of his cock and dripping down your thighs as he sets an unrelenting pace. You try to brace against the wall but your arms buckle, resorting to resting your forearms against the wall as he fucks himself deeper into you.

“Who else can make you cum like this?”

You can’t form words, resorting to tired whimpers.

“Use your words doll”

“No one, only you” is all you can maange through strangled moans.

He grips your hips and starts pulling you back into him while continuing to fuck you, the position letting him hit impossibly deep inside you. You feel yourself losing balance before he reaches an arm around your waist to keep you steady. His breathing is heavy, directly in your ear as you continue to clench down on him.

“So fucking good love, fuck gonna make me cum”

You moan at his words,

"Is that what you want huh, want me to fill this pussy, claim it as mine"

He quickly thrusts a few more times before slowing his pace, a choked groan leaving his throat as you feel him fill you with his cum, fucking it deeper into you. Finishing his orgasm he stays deep inside you, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as you both stay there, trying to catch your breaths. He pulls his mask up over his lips and plants a soft kiss on your forehead before removing himself. You whine at the loss of contact as he kneels down to pull your pants back up for you.

You turn your body to place your palms against his cheeks, holding his face, looking into his eyes with hooded lids, reaching up to kiss him, he snakes a hand around you holding you to him, deepening the kiss.

You pull back resting your forehead against his, “You know that I would never-” but he interrupts you before you can finish.

“I know” is all he says, reaching a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. You stare lovingly at your husband, in that moment he isn’t the Ghost, he’s Simon.

“You should leave first, less suspicious than both of us walking out of here”

You smile and nod, placing another kiss to his lips before pulling his mask back down his face, turning to leave the room. You step into the hallway and catch a glimpse of yourself in the window in front of you, jesus, you take a moment to smooth out your hair and tuck your shirt back in, before walking down the hallway, jumping a little at the sudden form by your side.

“Hey lass” Soap says, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Johnny” you greet him

“I think some of the lads and I are gonna head to the pub later if yer into that sort of thing”

“Oh, yea maybe”

He nods in acknowledgement and turns down another hallway, you think to yourself for a moment before craning your neck over your shoulder, yep, just like you suspected, Ghost was behind you a few paces, fists clenched after witnessing another encounter between Soap and you, smiling slightly to yourself, silently praying this anger would result in a second round.

You met the team at the bar around 10, it’s rather run-down but for the circumstances, it’s not too bad. Mostly filled with other military personnel that lived on the base, you were greeted with loud cheers courtesy of a very drunk Soap, who was sat in a booth with his arm wrapped tightly around the shoulder of Gaz who was seemingly just as drunk but hiding it a little better. Price sat leaning back in his chair, a lit cigar sticking out of his mouth as he greeted you with a slight nod. You sat down at the booth, glancing around for any sign of Ghost before your train of thought is interrupted by Soap pushing a glass of whiskey towards you, you oblige him and take a quick swig of the drink, your throat burning at the sensation.

The four of you sat engaged in a rather loud conversation, mostly from Soap, if you thought he was chatty before, this was a whole new level. He wanted to know everything about you, and you answered most of his questions with the same answers you had given Gaz earlier, the two were too drunk to remember anything you said anyway. After a while you excused yourself to go to the bar, catching the attention of the bartender and requesting a drink for yourself. 

You stood at the bar tapping your fingers while you waited for the bartender to bring drinks to others first when a rather chipper man positioned himself next to you, sparing him a tight-lipped smile before averting your gaze.

“So you come here often” eyeroll

“Nope”

“You must be new, I’ve never seen you around”

“Something like that,” you say, thanking the bartender for your drink and turning to head back to your booth before his hand grabs your arm, making you spill your drink. “Seriously”

“What you’re too good for a conversation?”

“With you? Yea”

He doesn’t release his grip but before he can speak his gaze is drawn upward to lock eyes on the tall skull-clad figure that stands behind you.

“Might want to let go mate” is all Simon says before the man releases you, throwing his arms up defensively.

“Alright man, just wanted to talk”

You and Simon start to make your way back to the booth when you hear the man mutter something along the lines of dumb bitch, instantly your head whips toward Simon who’s stopping in his tracks, you widen your eyes at him, a silent plea to please don’t.

The next thing you see is your 6’4 hulking figure of a husband grab the collar of the smaller man's shirt and force him back against the bar.

“What was that?” he asks through gritted teeth

By now the rest of the team has noticed and are rushing from the booth, but they aren’t quick enough. Simon balls his fist and hits the man directly across the face, you can see the blood spew from his nose as he falls to the floor as Price moves behind Simon and rests a hand on his arm.

“Simon, step away son”

Simon retracts his fist to his side before exiting the bar with Price, you see Gaz drop a few bills on the bar and whisper a rushed sorry to the bartender, you’re stood frozen, Simon was always protective but this was such a brute display, something was off with him.

You rejoin the team outside the bar and notice Simon off by himself, leaning against a brick wall smoking a cigarette.

“I think we should call it a night” Price says to the group, you nod in agreement, hailing a cab and trying to get Gaz and Soap settled in.

“Yer not coming w’us lass?” Soap questions

“Not this time, I’m gonna walk back”

He brushes you off and the cab takes off, you stand there for a minute chatting with Price as he offers to walk back with you but you decline his offer with some excuse of wanting to be alone, and enjoy the weather. He leaves you with a pat on the shoulder, reaching down for his lighter to reignite his cigar before you see him walk away, a puff of smoke trailing behind him.

You rub your arms up and down with your hands, trying to come up with something to say to Simon. You slowly walk over to him, standing beside him as he reaches a hand down to offer you a drag of his cigarette, you brush him off and he puts it out, grinding it into the ground with his heavy boot.

“You could’ve killed that guy”

“He’s lucky I didn’t”

You turn to face him, “are you alright, you’ve been off ever since we got here, more on edge”

“M’fine”

“Si” you say, reaching to hold is large hand in yours.

He takes a heavy breath, “I don’t know, I’m just nervous”

You squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue, it’s never been easy for him to talk about his feelings, and you never forced him or pryed, but you also wanted him to know that he could trust you with whatever he was feeling.

“I’m just worried about you, you got shot at today and I don’t even want to picture what the guys around here are thinking about you”

You nod in understanding, “We knew the risks, the op was nothing I haven’t dealt with before, but beating that guy up Si, and the way you’re acting around Johnny, I mean he’s your closest friend”

You look up at him, “I understand jealousy Si, but you’ve never gotten violent like that”

He looks at you, his dark eyes scanning over your face, “I don’t know love,  I’m just under a lot of stress”

Placing a hand on his chest you move closer to him, he wraps his arms around your frame, holding you tight to his as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

“Okay, just promise me you won’t break Johnnys nose too”

He chuckles a little, squeezing you before releasing you.

“I’m serious, beat up anyone else and people are gonna start to catch on to us”

He nods, urging you to walk up the road with a nudge of his head, the two of you walk back to base, giggling quietly to yourselves over small conversation, maintaining a rather platonic distance in case anyone saw you.

The two of you arrive back at the base, you head inside to your bunks while Ghost sits outside, lighting another cigarette. He stands alone in the quiet, enjoying the silent ambience of the quiet night before his solitude is ripped from his chest at the piercing accent of Soap.

“Hey LT” Johnny greets, propping himself against the wall beside Ghost, “Can I ask a question?”.

Ghost remains silent, hoping Soap would simply walk away.

“Have you got a thing for her”

Ghost turns to glare at Soap, eyes starring daggers, but it doesn’t stop him.

“Strider, you’re always eyein her down, like she’s your prey or something”

Ghost merely blinks at him, turning his head back to face out at the pavement, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“She’s nice, not very chatty but kind, hell of a shot too” Soap adds

Ghost blows smoke from his nose, ashing his cigarette before turning and walking into the building, leaving Soap to stand alone in the dark.

“Was it something I said?” Soap asks to himself before he too moves to enter the building.

It was quiet inside the base, aside from the occasional group stumbling in after a night at the pub, a few of them gossiping about how a man wearing a skull mask broke the nose of one of the privates on base. You were in your room, fresh out of the shower getting ready for bed before you hear a knock on your door, immediately assuming it was Ghost on the other side, you open the door with a roll of your eyes but before you can make any kind of sarcastic comment your sentence is stopped by the sight of a man wearing a rather ugly fishing hat.

“Sorry I know it’s late”

“Captain, did you need something,” you ask, suddenly feeling very bare in your pyjamas.

“Just a question,” he says, watching your face for any kind of concern. “Is there something I need to worry about with Simon?”

Your mind blanks, hesitating to answer. “I’m not sure, we aren’t that close sir”

“Cut the shit Sargeant, he doesn’t get into bar fights, yet, one guy hits on you and suddenly he’s hitting the floor”

You swallow, trying your best at keeping a poker face. “There’s nothing to worry about sir” you respond, straight-faced.

“Alright" He takes a beat, "get some rest” He nods his head to you and leaves down the hall.

You close your door, your body falling backwards as your back collides with the heavy metal. You huff a breath to yourself, hands coming up to settle over your mouth, of course, his jealousy got us caught. You have to think of a game plan and quick, if Price has you two figured out it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the team does and you can’t risk that.

You tossed and turned in bed that night, the pooling anxiety refusing to let you rest as you wondered if Price had talked to Simon yet, you know he trusted Price with his life and that you should too, but keeping your relationship a secret was a hard and fast rule the two of you had decided on when you first got together, Ghost had a lot of enemies, enemies that would love to get their hands on you, you began to spiral thinking of all the things that could go wrong before you knew it the sun was coming up, the small windows of your room letting in the warm orange glow as you picked at the skin around your nails. You had to shut this down, and quick.

Taglist: @chloepluto1306 @thychuvaluswife @valdemarismynonbinarylove @simply-vulpecula @lostinsideourminds

[kinsfics]

we fell in love in the middle of nowhere – steve harrington

▶︎ NOW PLAYING: middle of nowhere by frawley

⸺ summary: Hawkins, Indiana was never enough for (Y/N). She had big dreams and an even bigger future ahead of her. Everyone always said she was destined for more than the small Indiana town could ever give her. She could only hope Steve was too.

⸺ author's note: I'm gonna be editing/rewriting and posting all of my stories that were on my old account onto here since I have no inspiration to write anything new right now lol

We used to meet up at the park

We knew the shortcuts all by heart

Raced to the top of the swing set

To escape the town that we lived in

We fell in love in the middle of nowhere

“You sure took your sweet time, Harrington,” You say as soon as you see the unmistakable head of hair belonging to the one and only Steve Harrington.

“Sorry, babe. You know how long it takes to get this under control,” he says with a smirk, gesturing to his hair. He strolls over to where you’re sitting on the swing and stands in front of you. You stand up to greet him, and he takes you into his arms. Leaning in as if to kiss you, he whispers, “Race you to the top of the swing set,” before taking off.

“Cheater!” You yell, running after him. You catch up with him and watch as he stands victorious at the top of the playground. “No fair,” you pout at him. Steve laughs before reaching toward you to brush a strand of hair that had fallen into your face. He stares into your eyes as you struggle to catch your breath.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he whispers, staring into your eyes. Before you get a chance to respond, he’s leaning in and kissing you.

I always hated that small town

I couldn’t wait ‘til I got out

Couldn’t drive but I had some car keys

And you promised you would come with me

But you stayed in the middle of nowhere

You and Steve had the time of your lives that summer. But there was always the desire for something more. You had been ecstatic when the chance came for you to get out of Hawkins, Indiana.

“Your parents bought you a car?” Steve gawked, making you laugh.

“Yeah, it’s a present for graduating with straight ‘A’s,” you explained, holding up your car keys.

“You don’t even have your license,” Steve frowned, and you rolled your eyes.

“I will soon. And when I do, I’m taking this baby and getting the hell out of this town,” you said, looking longingly at your new car.

“You know I’ll follow you anywhere,” Steve had promised, punctuating it with a kiss to your cheek. But when the time came, you drove away in your new car, leaving Steve in your rear view mirror.

Tell me how we ended up miles apart

With nothing in my bag and only half a heart

I knew that it was stupid

But I just needed a change

As you stand in a new town, unfamiliar faces all around you, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up so far away from the boy you loved. Dragging your near-empty suitcase behind you, you leave the airport, leaving more than just your old clothes behind.

Now part of me is sitting in the place we met

The front seat of your car smelled like cigarettes

I guess I kinda loved it

‘Cause it’s etched inside my brain

Sitting in the cab on the way to your new apartment, you can’t help but think back to a better time. A less lonely time.

“Those things will kill you, y’know,” you say, watching as Steve takes a drag of his cigarette. He shrugs but takes it out of his mouth and flicks it out of the window.

“Better?” He asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Much,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. You could still taste the cigarette smoke on his tongue.

I tried to change

To be someone new

So I went to Paris to be in a city

That’s time zones away

Now I’m up ‘til two (I’m up ‘til two)

I made it all the way, but it’s no use

My heart’s in the middle of nowhere with you

Paris was the opposite of Hawkins. Filled with bustling crowds of people, unfamiliar noises, and cars racing past, you can’t help but wonder what the hell you were thinking. You had told Steve you wanted a change. You didn’t want to be the girl with big dreams who never made it out. But now, as you lie awake in bed at two in the morning, you can’t help but wonder if it would have been all that bad to stay in the middle of nowhere with him.