#please add your personal stupid ideas on how they are going to pull this one off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeyinde · 2 years ago

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body electric | everyone x f!reader

It's the burn of hindsight, that fuzzy little thing called moribund that leaks into your marrow as you all take turns showering (they let you go first, unspoken, of course), and converge around the large meeting room where everything—including Simon Riley—was exposed.

Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever… had a gangbang before, and things quickly devolved from there.

(Well. You can scratch that off your bucket list.)

Simon, Price, Gaz, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy x f!Reader

⇾warnings: unfettered filth; gendered reader, gendered terminology, female!reader; oral—m&f receiving; unsafe sex; p-in-v sex, fingering; anal, rimming, anal fingering; this is a 6 man gangbang ummmmmmmm what more can i add?

⇾notes: um. yeah. it is what it is and it is nasty.

thank you so much @moondirti for encouraging me to write this, and @sprout-fics and @guyfieriii for the juicy ideas (and full credit for the makeout sess with Rudy goes to @guyfieriii) 🖤

(@ tumblrstaff, please don't delete my blog for this)

also, thank u so much cod fandom. if this revokes my fandom license, just know that it's an absolute honour and privilege to go out into the way i came in—with nothing but filth.

you only have yourselves to blame. and this person in particular 😭

It starts like this:

Price, a little bruised around the edges, and worn from the helicopter, grumbles about needing a drink. Gaz, a little quieter than usual, a little subdued, nods firmly beside him.

It's a spate—Shepherd, Graves—and the cumulation of it all leaves you feeling a little lour, a little out of it. Betrayal, death. You all reek of gunpowder and ichor.

That may be why there is a palpable sense of relief when Alejandro and Rudy fish out some bottles stashed away in the kitchen. He holds two by the nozzle, hefts them in the air, and says:

Who wants some?

No one, not even Ghost, says no.

Several drinks in, Gaz turns to you and says: never have I ever…, and things quickly devolved from there.

That was then, before you knew how Price, Soap, Gaz Alejandro, and Rodolfo, liked to kiss.

Price—rough, just like everything else about him; shades of smouldering tobacco leaves in the form of an unrelenting powerplay. He batters you into docility, leaves you feeling vapid and stupid by the time his hands rubs circles on the small of your back, the other holding your chin and leading you—always a leader, always—in whichever direction he wants. He's a thinly-veiled lesson in discipline. When you stray from his command, his fingers—thick, and bruising—are immediately there to reprimand you. He tastes like leather and smells like suede. His beard grazes your face until you feel a little sunburnt, a little dazed. He smells of low-grade motor oil and charred pinyon, and the musk of it makes you feel more intoxicated than the aged tequila on your tongue.

His tongue curls over your teeth and the noises he lets out are rasping guttural growls. The kicking engine of a classic car that was left to idle for too long. An American muscle car, maybe. The whiplash bellow of a Hemi purring against your lips. A mustang, a Chevelle. Something drenched in masculinity and oozing authority.

It's controlled. Blistering. He shifts your body around until you're tucked into the warm press of his chest. His hold is ironclad. No escape.

It's Soap, then, something falling from his lips. My turn, maybe. But nothing is solid in the effervescent grey matter saturating your thoughts. You feel drunk with pink peppercorn and sweetgrass when it envelopes you from behind.

His hands pull you away from Price, murmurs of soft words, things meant for a lover spill from his full pink lips. So pretty, hen; gonna make you feel so good. His eagerness shows he slots his pelvis to yours, and the hard, firm bulge of him nearly has you seeing stars.

Soap lingers for a moment, fingers tracing the wet curve of your raw lips, chafed and irritated by the bristles of Price's beard.

It wouldn't be wrong to call the way he touches the drying amalgam of yours and Price's—captain Price, superior, boss; untouchable—saliva obscene. It's filthy the way he grazes his finger under the curve of your lip, eyes honeycomb and wanting.

"Wanna gimme a kiss, hen?"

When he asks you like that, soft and hushed, the ghost of his breath across your stinging lips, you can't say no.

His mouth is molten on yours. He kisses you like he's starving for it. It's wet, and messy. Spittle drips down your chin when he shoves his tongue in your cavern, chasing your taste. Teeth clash, and your lips are pulled softly into his mouth until they swell, bruised and numbed. He only pulls away when you gasp, begging for air, grinning wickedly in the amber glow.

You barely have a second to catch your breath before Gaz is there, hands firm on your ass, dragging you into him.

Gaz peppers you in small, full kisses. Open mouth, teeth sinking into the plush bed of your bottom lip, suckling it into his mouth. Then he pulls away, leaves you dazed, and leaning forward, chasing the thrill of him. He huffs, hands sliding around the curve of your waist. Want it bad, eh?

A tidal wave. A storm surge. They batter against you until you're drunk off the taste of them. An illicit elixir of sin. A tantalising tease of what's to come.

Alejandro kisses you with unmatched finesse. Velvet soft sensuality that tastes of spiced clove and armoise. It starts slow. Just the press of his lips on yours. They lift into a grin, teeth sealed when you whimper and try to chase the santalum on his tongue. He laughs: a low, throaty chuckle, and wedges the tip between his teeth. A small taste, but not nearly enough to satiate you. You feel a little bit like you're floating in the clouds when his tongue finally fills the gap between your teeth; roiling over every inch of space he can find.

You feel like a beached log—ruined by the gritty sand on the bottom of the seafloor, and spat back out into dry land. Covered in the taste of them all, you find yourself slipping off a steep precipice into a chasm you can't climb out of.

It's Rodolfo, then, who grounds you.

His hand is warm on your chin—a beacon of light in a dark tunnel. His lips are a balm to your irritated, bruised flesh. It's sweet. The taste of sweet Brachetto d'Acqui and hedgerow blossoms. He smells of golden copal and kisses you like he's pressing his lips to the hands of his Father; a baptism in soft skin and reverent touches that make you feel like you've been found. Its featherlight whispers of his lips across your skin: the corners of your mouth, the soft skin between your chin and lower lip.

Hands on your waist, hot and heavy. Soap sinks his face in the space between your shoulder blades with a slow drawl of your name, teeth grazing your flesh. His stubble abrades your flesh until you're trembling in their embrace. Static shocks of pleasure bloom in the pits of your stomach.

Rodolfo's head drops, murmured words spilling in hymnals as he nuzzles your neck. Soft, gentle. He puts you together again just to dissolve you into ashes from psalms.

Gaz leaks grape cigarillos, and nag champa incense when he presses flush to your side.

It's when he asks Alejandro if there's any oil, any lube, does it start to sink into your sun-warmed flesh that this is happening. It's real.

You could blame Gaz— never have I ever had a threesome or a gangbang —but the idea mushroomed inside of your head, sporous and damning, until it was all you could think about. you, of course, weren't immune to the sudden hush that fell over the group drinking near the table when you stammered out your answer:

No, I've never had a threesome or a gangbang before.

It all happened so suddenly. The atmosphere was a rich, dense cloud of feverish energy buzzing around you; a miasma of hedonism in smoke and white musk.

Price, then, behind you. Alejandro's barking laughter (no way, cariño, you're too beautiful to never have been fucked like that before). The way Soap's eyes gleamed in the light. Rudy's quiet shake of his head. Ghost's eyes liquifying: heavy, midnight oil on your skin. The sound of glass cracking when Gaz said:

Well, would you?

Would I…? Silence. Poignant. Stifling.

Would you ever have a gangbang?

It spiralled from there. Gaz's words burrowing into your skin. His hands—are hot and heavy on your body. Soap dropping to his knees as he lifted your leg up on his shoulder, breathing deeply against your clothed cunt.

Want to, hen? Wanna take all a'us?

Alejandro's sharp breath. Might break her, hermano. Don't know about you, but I'm a big man.

Yeah, Price's mouth on yours, breath ghosting over your trembling lips. The scratch of his beard rubbing your skin until it was pink and flushed. Ain't the only one, mate.

Lips searing into yours. Sensual rolls of his tongue from Alejandro, hands roaming across your back. A soft, sweet series of kisses that left you breathless from Rudy. Messy, almost hypoxia-inducing ones from Soap that made your head spin, and drool dripped down your chin, your neck, covering your chest. An intense, blistering assault by Gaz, his hand firm on the nape of your neck.

It felt a little bit like a dream. Feverish and desperate. Tinged in the surrealism of being passed around like a prized trophy kissed after a well-won match.

It feels like a cacoethes and carries the taste of Alejandro's tequila. Bad decisions made under terrible influence.

And now—

Now:

There are hands on your body—many of them, in fact: Price holding the back of your knees up to your chest as he swipes his tongue over your aching cunt, lapping at your clit; Soap's on your nipples, pinching and tugging until you're mewling at the sharp pleasure-pain that ripples down your spine. Rodolfo stroking your face, murmuring in dulcet Spanish about how good you are, how pretty you look with your captain between your thighs. Alejandro's fingers ghosting over your torso, and trailing down to your throbbing clit when Price forces the thick of his tongue inside your quivering hole.

It edges into overstimulation; you're equally aware of every single brush across your trembling flesh, and completely gone at the same time. Dissolved into liquid mush.

And they haven't even really started yet.

Gaz is gone somewhere in search of the petroleum jelly in the office upstairs. Ghost leans against the wall—not willing, you think, to partake but still here, still watching you spread out on the table where he dropped his mask for the first time as everyone touches you.

"Fuck, cariño," Alejandro rasps, his finger pressing against your clit in tandem with Price's tongue fucking into the clutch of you. It's too much—his voice is heavy with sin and the heft of it makes you quake. "Bonita. You're so pretty like this, eh? All flushed pretty carmesí and aching for it."

Rodolfo, Rudy he murmurs low in your ear when you whimper his name, chuckles. "She's stunning, eh, hermano."

"Fuckin' right," Soap breathes, his fingers drifting across your smeared lips. "You want this, aye, bonnie? Want us to fuck you silly?"

All you can do is moan brokenly around his hand, fingers rubbing across your tongue.

"Where's Gaz?" Price grumbles into your cunt, beard grazing your inner thighs. "Wanna fuck this tight pussy already, love. Need to feel you around my cock—"

He punctuates his words with the tips of his blunt fingers, pushing two of them into your dripping hole. The sting makes you keen, makes your knees shake. You want to say too much, too sudden, but you can't speak around the three fingers shoved into your throat.

The look on your face makes Alejandro groan. "I want your mouth, cariño. Can I?"

"Christ, hermano," Soap huffs, amused. Tone draped in sex. It makes your thighs quiver. "Ready to start, then?"

"I am," Price grouses, nose flushed against your clit. "I've been thinkin' about this cunt for a long time, love."

They move in tandem. Seamless weaving with one singular goal of stuffing you full of all of them.

Soap pulls his hand away, rubbing your slick over his flushed cock.

You moan against Alejandro's cock when he presses it to the seal of your quivering mouth. His hand is firm on your head, but his eyes are gentle. He waits for you, holding still until you give him your affirmation to continue. The sight of his flushed, tanned cock makes you whimper. He smells of sin: oud and myrrh; heady and thick. Your head swims with the way it clots in your lungs.

Your mouth aparts, tongue rolling out over the weeping head of his cock. It's salty. Brinny. You moan a little when it slides deeper into your mouth.

"Jesus—," Soap pants, rough and slurred. The noise jars into you.

Hands fall over you again, and you lose track of who is touching you when Price groans into your cunt, and Alejandro pushes your jaw open wider, sliding more of his cock into your mouth.

The air buzzes with something bordering on frenetic. Pent up energy from the success of the mission, the alcohol spuming in your veins. The high of the win burns through everyone.

This—a gangbang —would never have happened if it wasn't somehow the perfect storm, the coalescence of all the right emotions.

It's intense. Surreal.

And then Alejandro pitches his hips forward with a smoked groan, murmurs:

"Fuck, gonna cum, cariño. Are you gonna swallow it for me?"

A hushed silence falls around you. It's one thing to attend, but another to partake, and you wonder if they are realising that this is the point of no return.

It's met with a soft moan.

You want it. Want his cum. Want to taste more of that salty haar tang in your throat, feel it settle in the pit of your belly. Hot and syrupy thick.

He pitches his hips forward, hand sliding up the length of his cock not buried in your throat, stroking himself as you suckle on his head. It's sloppy, and wet, and fuck —

Alejandro is the first to cum. The first to spill his milky release on your tongue. It's salty, briny. Not at all dissimilar to the margaritas he handed you hours ago.

His moan is choked and hoarse, a low bellow in the depths of his belly that rumbles through you in a series of deep uh, uh, uhs.

You barely have time to swallow when Rudy is there. Hands on your cheek, eyes lidded and pleading. Can I, cariño?

Alejandro's cum spills from your tongue when he pulls away, dribbling down your chin, neck. It puddles on your chest where Soap's thumb catches the droplets, smearing them around your hard nipples.

You nod, swallowing down the mouthful of cum, brows furrowed in pleasure with each roll of Price's tongue laving at your cunt; the gentle way Soap kneads your flesh.

Rudy shuffles closer, and the flavour of cardamom spumes around you. His body burns hot, heavy cock twitching in his grip. Your mouth drops, tongue lulling out, and he grunts at the sight, eyes cresting.

"You're beautiful, mi Reina."

Rudy's cock brushes across your tongue, eyes shuddering when you wrap your lips around him, head tipping back in pleasure. "Fuck…"

Your tongue laves over his slit, tasting the salty spill of him. His breath is ragged, heavy. There is no warning—just a strangled choke of your name—and then he's cumming on your tongue, ropes spurting over your cheeks and chin.

You gasp, wet and broken, and absolutely filthy.

"That's it—," Price mumbles against you, blowing a huff of air across your slit. It makes your toes curl—the perfect mix of not enough and too much, and—

Rudy strokes your hair, eyes glazed. The angle is awkward, but his mouth slots over yours, tongue rubbing over the mess they made of you. He kisses you like he's worshipping you. Like you're the best thing he'd ever tasted, and he can't get enough.

There is a blunt pressure against your core. A delicious coil inside of you unspooling.

Price has three fingers buried to the knuckle inside of you, tongue rolling over your clit, when you cum around him, knees shaking as you moan at the tight clutch of your walls stretched taut.

"Fuck," Soap breathes, taking Rudy's place when he pulls away from you, lips red and glossy. He pushes his blunt head against your cheek. Cum spurts out, splattering across your face in thick milky ropes. "That's what you sound like when you cum? Jesus—"

You barely have time to catch your breath when Price lifts his head, beard soaked in your slick. Heat pools in your belly again at the sight. He looks like ruin. Wet and dark, and hungry. You whimper when he rubs the scuff of his damp beard over your spread pussy. Coarse hair grazes your clit, and the spark of pleasure has you seeing double. Makes liquid bliss bloom in your chest.

"Couldn't wait, eh, cap?" Gaz returns with a wink, waving the bottle of jelly in his hands when he moves into your periphery.

"Can it, and get over here."

"Impatient."

Price helps you sit up, mouth stinging, and sticky with cum and saliva. His eyes catch in the dimming light high in the rafts. Drunken desire spools in the shades of sapphire blue. His thumb brushes across the corner of your mouth.

"Might have to see you like this more often, love."

"Shooting your shot already, cap?" Gaz drawls, humour lacing in his tone.

"Not my fault you waited too long."

"You're lucky," Alejandro rumbles. Firm hands fall to your shoulders, rubbing the knots in your back until your head falls, forehead pressed to Price's chest with a moan. "Should stay here, cariño. I'll make you happy. Get you nice and fat on Mexican food, and swollen with mis hijos e hijas."

"Sí," Rudy's lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering saccharine words in Spanish. "We'll live on the farm. Drinking wine every day. I'll take you to the coast."

You shudder, belly spuming with heat. Overwhelmed, dizzy. It's a dangerous elixir. A deadly combination. It makes you want, yearn.

"No way," Soap huffs. "She's comin' home with us. Back to the UK where she can sit on my cock whenever she wants—"

"You're all wrong," Gaz scoffs. "Price called dibs the moment—"

"That's enough." His command is rough, dry.

Gaz glances at you, and the humour shifts. Darkens. "Fuck, look what they did to you already."

You feel it, thick and viscous, on your burning skin. The flush deepens. You can only imagine what you look like. Your lashes are clumped together, and heavy. Cheeks irritated from the beard burn and the saline smear of cum over your flesh. Swollen, cock-bruised lips. Messy in voluptuary pearlescent.

"You look good," Soap says, taut, and slightly breathless.

They stare at you like you're a banquet—a feast. Your heart thuds in your chest, cum-filled belly rolling. Its—

Powerful. Sensual.

Price's eyes flutter when he leans over you, hands feverish when they fall on your skin. "Gotta move you, now, love. That alright?"

You swallow and taste the ocean. The sea. "Y—yeah."

He shudders. A frisson flurries across his face. "Good."

His hands are solid on your body as they manoeuvre you until your belly is flushed to the table, panting against the damp fabric beneath you. He presses his cock against your ass, letting you feel the iron-hard, velvety soft heat of him. You push your hips back, cunt throbbing. You want it. Want his cock. Want him to fill you up until you're stuffed and fat, and—

Happy, Alejandro said. Happy.

"Soon, love," his voice is a thunderclap in a bottle. You tremble when the balmy heat of him moves away from you, leaving you spread and exposed.

"Fuck," Gaz murmurs. His hand trails down your spine, fingers slipping between the crease of your ass.

He spoke to you about it already. Five of us. Wanna—he licked his lips, eyes hooded and caramel rich—wanna let me fuck your ass?

In for a penny.

Gaz shushes you when you whimper, mouth ghosting over the soft flesh of your ass. He wastes no time. His fingers dig into your cheeks, spreading them open. You mewl. Your body is electrified: too much, too soon, too raw—too exposed; but Gaz groans deep in his throat.

"Fuck, look at you."

He doesn't give you a moment; doesn't waver even when Soap tells him to move away so they can see. There is no preamble. His tongue laves over your asshole, a filthy grunt spilling from his lips as he tastes your flesh.

"Steamin' Jesus, Gaz," Soap groans. Slick noises can be heard behind you. "Fuckin' Christ—"

It's strange. The sensation is heightened by the awareness that everyone—everyone—is watching Gaz devour your ass like it's the best meal he's had in weeks. You quiver, dropping your head into the table. Price stands by your side, cock jerking each time you moan.

His hand on your head is a comfort. A heavy weight. Your hips rock back into Gaz's tongue, keening when it slips into your hole. It doesn't hurt, but there's an insistent pressure as he stretches you open.

A cold, slick finger joins soon after, and the ache makes you choke.

"S'alright, love," Price murmurs, and your lachrymose eyes blink open, gritty and sticky, and dart to him. His hand tightens around the base of his cock. Your cunt throbs at the sight. "Focus on me, yeah?"

"C—captain—"

The rawness in your voice makes him groan. Makes them groan. You can hear Alejandro swear. Soap grunt. More slick noises reverberate around you, and you flush. Cheeks burning. They're getting themselves off to this. To Gaz fingering your tight asshole open for their cocks. Another hole for them to slip inside.

Fuck, fuck fuck—

"That's it," Price coos, low and smoky, and filled with rough tobacco.

His hand threads through your hair as Soap's roam your body, slipping beneath your chest and the table, punching your nipples, stroking your belly. Rudy, or maybe Alejandro—you can't see, can't tell—tap on your clit as two fingers are pushed back into your throbbing cunt.

You want them. Want it.

"P—please—"

Price groans, his cock spitting out prespend that dribbles down the length of him. "I want you to suck my cock, love. Will you do that for me?"

You nod, core quivering as a rush of heat flutters down to the base of your spine. You still taste Alejandro, Rudy, on your tongue.

You wonder if Price tastes just as good.

Price helps you move, and angles his cock toward you, grunting when your wet, sloppy mouth seals over the head.

He tastes even better. Salty and bitter. Tobacco ash and smoke. You want to drown in it.

Gaz stretches your ass as you swallow your captain's cock, and your head still spins with that notion, not quite able to believe you're on your knees for them, spread open, and being readied for all of them that take.

It cudgels into your stomach: a gnarling frisson that makes throb, makes you push back onto Gaz's fingers, his tongue, and moan around Price's cock.

"That enough, Gaz?" He sounds wrecked when he speaks. Ashes and gasoline; it's saturated in want. The air crackles with impatience.

His tongue slides across your fluttering hole in a long, wet stripe, as if savouring the taste of you before he pulls back.

"Yeah—," it's wet when it slurs out of him. His fingers press against your loose hole, moaning a little when you greedily take the tips inside. "Fuck, she's more than ready, cap."

Price wastes no time. He pulls you off of him, and the others—all communicating in a series of strange commands you can't decipher through the rush in your head—all make room for him.

He turns you around, and lifts you onto the table, legs spread around the thick of him. His cock throbs against your pussy when you wiggle back, trying to get comfortable on the bed of masks—Ghost's masks—and it hits you, now, that you're going to get fucked. That your pussy and your ass have been stretched, prepped, and are ready for them. All of them.

He stares down at you, nostrils flaring, and the dark look in his molten sapphire gaze makes you wonder if he feels it, too. If it's hitting him with just as much of a punch as it is you.

His cock nudges against your hole. He pauses, eyes flickering up from the seal of your cunt around his flushed, engorged head, to confirm, one last time, if you want this. If you're sure.

It's debauched and absolutely filthy, but—your hand reaches out when Soap steps up, cock bobbing with each step, and you grasp his shaft. Alejandro's fingers ghost over your bruised, swollen mouth, and you let him lead your head to his throbbing cock, lips sealing over the leaking head.

Rudy's hands are reverent when he takes your other hand, bringing it to his length.

It's all the confirmation he needs, but still. Price waits. Your heart thunders in your chest. Your captain—always so—

The thought is nipped when you nod around Alejandro, and he pushes inside of your pussy. Stretching your cunt with his girth. You moan, legs falling open wider as he splits you apart.

It's good. It's too much. It's—

He feeds it into you, lips curled up in a snarl as you split around him. He grunts—rasping growls that spool inside of your core until you're white-hot, and whimpering.

"Come on, love," is rucked from his throat. A battering ram against your chest swinging hard, and ferocious until you see stars. "You can take me."

It makes you tremble. Makes the world around you grind together; tectonic plates shifting, crashing. Earthquake tremors along the base of your spine, rattling your bones. It cracks them open, and leaks Nirvana through your bloodstream.

Price's cock wrenches you open. Each inch jarring the soporific slurry of sex and smoke congealing heavy in your veins until you're mewling around Alejandro's cock.

His groans of pleasure as resin thick; smouldering sandalwood. Cracking sap. He works himself inside of you, gruff praises falling from his still-damp lips. You feel good. This pretty cunt was made to get ruined, wasn't it? Take me, love. That's it. They slide over your skin, oud oil and syrup thick, until your flesh prickles with goosebumps.

Alejandro's cock hits the gummy walls of your throat, his grunt curls over you. Clove and amber. You burn. There is a give, and then—

His hips slide against yours, cunt stuffed to the brim with his cock. Tears leak down your cheeks at the feeling of him sitting so heavy inside of you, at the blunt press of Alejandro's cock choking you in shallow thrusts.

"Bloody hell—," he groans, head tipping back as he stares at the seal of your pussy taut around the base. "Look'it you. So full of cock. You look like you were made for this, pretty thing."

"Our little slut, eh?" Alejandro huffs, pushing his hips closer to your face as you lap at him. "If her pussy feels as good as her mouth, hermano, I won't last too long."

"Fuck, can't wait to fuck you next," Soap grunts, his hand wrapping around yours as he guides you along, showing you what he likes. "Cannae fuckin—"

Rudy's hand falls to your swaying chest, rubbing your aching nipples as Price begins to fuck you, filling you up over and over again with his fat cock.

It's good. It's so fucking good. You whine around Alejandro, and feel molten pleasure bloom in your belly as they use you, revere you; eyes fixed on your body as you take them all in.

"I'm gonna cum soon," Price grunts, his hips pistoning into you hard enough to jar the table. The metal legs grind against the cement floor. The room filled with the scent of sex and the lewd noises that spill from the wet squelch of your cunt greedily swallowing down your captain's cock. The suckling sound of Alejandro fucking your throat. "Look at you, look at this pretty fucking cunt taking me—"

Soap's fingers fall to your clit as Price hits the plug of your womb with the blunt head of his cock, sending pleasure ricocheting down your spine until you're arching off the table. Muscles coil, tightening together as he knocks into the soft walls of your pussy, sending you reeling.

"Ah, fuck—," Alejandro grunts. "I'm gonna cum, cariño. You'll swallow it for me, eh? Swallow it all—fuck—"

He cums down your throat for the second time, hands stroking your face as he feeds it to you with muttered words in slurred Spanish too fast for you to pick up.

You can't focus. Can't think—

The taste of cum on your tongue, the blissed noses that spill around you, and the way Price fucks you deep, battering against your fluttering walls have you seeing stars.

You moan, nearly choking on the thick cum that drenches you. Soap leans down, spits on your clit, and rubs the mess in with his fingers. It's feral. It's disgusting—

Your cunt spasms as you're shoved over the precipice, squeezing and throbbing like a heartbeat around the thick plug of Price's cock as he spears it against your womb; a battering ram into your flesh.

"Jesus, captain," Soap sounds awed, voice pitched low and slurred. "Just givin' it to her, aye?"

"Fuckin' hell—"

He cums inside of you with a grunt of your name draped in liquid sin. Cock twitching deep inside of you, pressed taut to your womb. He holds it there and makes you take it. Drowns your cunt in his thick cum.

It's wet between your thighs. Your throat clicks when you swallow, nose burning from the flood of briny cum Alejandro poured down your throat.

Price pulls out slowly, taps the head of his sticky cock against your clit, and you flush at the feeling of him leaking out of you.

There is no respite. Gaz's hands are on your body, head numb and fuzzy, as they speak about the intricacies of fucking you, of filling you up.

"Think she's ready for two?"

"Are you?" Soap's fingers fall to your aching cunt, spreading the thick cum around your clit. "Can you take us both?"

"No. Not yet." It's Ghost who speaks, and your belly rolls at the low husk of his voice.

"Yeah, give her one more."

Soap's fingers slip into your cunt, and curl against your sensitive walls. "Fuck, captain. You filled her up good."

Rudy's thumb presses against the seam of your mouth, eyes pleading when he stares down at you. His thick cock grasped in his hand.

You're little more than a ragdoll. An offering between the gods. Soap parts your thighs, head tapping against your throbbing cunt.

Price leans against a beam close by, eyes burning into you in search of any glimmer of distress. Having him close by calms you. Makes you relax. You settle, mouth popping open for Rudy as Soap pushes himself into your pussy.

"Fuck, your pussy feels incredible—"

He lets out a string of curses in rapid-fire Scots, burying the full length of himself into your cunt.

He fucks you like he's aching for it. A madman. His hips bludgeon into you until you're seeing stars, until you're choking around Rudy's cock. It's too much. Too much—

You want more.

Rudy's hands are gentle on your face, brushing your hair away as he cants his hips. His cock slides over your tongue, and you try to hollow your cheeks, to make it good for him, but the blistering pleasure makes your mouth fall open.

"It's okay, bonita." He murmurs, resting his head on your tongue as he fists the length of himself. "Just like this, okay? Just like this. Let me—," he fucks into his palm, eyes rolling back as he rubs his weeping slit over your tongue.

Gaz's hand grabs your swaying breasts in his hand. "I'm gonna fuck your ass next, yeah? Gonna split your little hole open on my cock. You don't want, don't you? Wanna be fucked in all holes, like a little whore."

Fuck. Fuck—

Rudy pushes his cock into your mouth, groaning as molten cum sputters out, drenching your tongue and cheeks.

"Oh, fuck—," Soap pants, hips slamming into you. His eyes are fixed on your messy face. "You look so fuckin' pretty with cum all over you, so fuckin' good for us, aye?"

His eyes snap shut, brow furrowed in pleasure as he buries the full length of himself inside of your spasming pussy, filling you with another load of cum.

It's good. It's so good. The sensation of hands on your body isn't foreign anymore. Alejandro moves when Rudy finishes, stroking your hair, and leaning down to kiss your forehead. You go to him eagerly, mouth parting as he slips his softened cock into your mouth.

Words are murmured around you, grunts and groans of pleasure so robust and full that you clench, aching at the sound of their bliss.

Fingers on your nipples, your clit, makes you see white. Makes your back arch as liquid pleasure blooms inside your core again.

Soap pulls out, and you barely have time to mourn the loss of him when Gaz slots between your legs, fingers falling to your ass, and slipping inside with a groan.

"Nice and loose, now," he purrs, spreading his fingers inside your tight channel. "Gonna fuck this pretty asshole. Gonna fucking ruin you. Alejandro's gonna fuck your pussy after, eh? Maybe me and Price can fill you up at the same time, huh?"

"Gaz," his name is drenched in smoke, a shuddering rumble that stabs tight into your core when Price speaks. Your cunt throbs at the thought. "If you don't hurry up—"

"Alright, alright, cap."

Rudy's behind you at the head of the table, hands roaming over your skin, smearing cum all over your flesh. He murmurs low, sweet words in Spanish you can't hear over the roaring in your ears when Gaz spreads your legs, cock nudging against your virgin hole. It's comforting, though. His presence is solid. Your hands grip his forearms, whining at the sting, the blunt pressure pushing into you.

Soap groans. You can hear his voice to your left along with slick sounds of him touching his spent cock.

"That's so fuckin' hot. Steamin' fucking Jesus—"

You're relaxed enough that Gaz slips inside without much of a burn. It feels strange: a heavy pressure, a slight sting. You're prepared enough that it's more foreign, and uncomfortable than it is painful. But it's—

Full.

You moan when his hips buck shallowly, pushing more of him into your asshole. It's weird. It's strange. It's—

"How does it feel, love?"

Price's fingers fall on your throbbing clit. Alejandro's—you think, maybe; you can't see through the blurred tears in your eyes—push into your sopping cunt, groaning wetly at the lewd squelch of the cum inside of you.

"It's—"

Belly full. A pressure unlike anything you'd felt before. Snug, and tight, and—

"Good," you whimper, arching your back. Your nipples are tugged. Pussy stuffed with three of Alejandro's fingers. Ass full of Gaz when he finally, finally, bottoms out with a moan. "It's so good—"

He fucks you slow, steady. Savouring the tight clench of you around him.

Price works your clit, murmuring about how good you are. How pretty you look, full of cum and getting your ass stuffed with cock.

"You were made for this, weren't you? Little cockslut."

It punches the air from your lungs when he hisses it into your ear.

Gaz pushes the length of himself inside your ass, moaning about how tight you are. How he can't wait to fill you up. His hands fall, sliding over your ass cheeks until he brushes over the rim of your stretched hole, hips stuttering.

"God," he chokes. "Fuck, you look good."

"Yeah, she does," Soap breathes, hands palming at your body, rough and hot and tacky with his release. They glide up the length of your body, pressing into your swollen mouth. "Open up for me."

His fingers taste of pennies when he pushes them against your tongue, stroking over your flesh. He thrusts them in tandem to the rolls of Gaz's cock splitting you deeply. It's a filthy crescendo of moans, grunts, the sloppy wet sound of your gummy mouth being fucked by three of Soap's fingers, and the lewd, fleshy snap of Gaz's pelvis and thighs slapping against yours.

Rudy strokes your hair, pushing the tangled mess of it out of your eyes, and murmurs about how good you're being. The soft praise prickles over you like the warm glow from an altar candle. The heat makes your eyes burn, stinging with tears, and you take what they give you, and try not to get lost in the rapture of their flesh staining your skin.

Price's finger pushes against your sensitive clit. Rudy's soft voice permeates around like burning incense. The heavy weight, the foreign slide, of Gaz stretching your channel makes you keen low in your throat, muffled by the messy drag of Soap's knuckles on the roof of your mouth.

You cum again, shuddering from the billowing pleasure blanketing you from all sides, and fall into the embrace of Rudy's arms. Price's hands are a plinth on your hips, keeping you up, keeping you grounded, and Gaz works himself to completion, scorched words of bliss spilling from gritted teeth.

Soap leans down, tongue catching the mess spilling from your gaping mouth. Alejandro rubs your fluttering walls. It's intense. Overwhelming. You're surrounded by a dense smog of pleasure and musk: clove cigarettes, bayberry, oakmoss, and the thick tang of a wet, loam and humus forest.

The drawling moan Gaz lets out makes your core ache. He buries himself deep, hips glued to the plush seam of your ass, and he spills deep inside of you.

"Joder, cariño, you look good with your ass stuffed, eh?"

You can't speak around Soap's fingers. The only noise that spills is a sloppy, wet moan.

Gaz presses kisses into your spine, slowly, slowly, pulling out of your ass.

"Yeah, she does." He slurs, rubbing his chin over the small of your back. "Who's next?"

Everything blurs into a fever dream of hands and tongues, and the delicious stretch of your cunt, your ass, as they stuff you full of them. Filthy words are whispered into your temple as they grow bolder with your body.

Price gets you off just by slapping his palm over your clit until you clench around Rudy's cock. Soap licks up your tears, fingers pressed as far down your throat as he can get them, and murmurs how sexy you look full of cum. How he can't get enough of your tight cunt and pretty little hole.

You were made for them, Alejandro whispers, and pulls your hips down until you're seated on his cock. The blunt head of Rudy's cock soon presses to your wet asshole, bottoming out with a deep groan. His hands are reverent as they run across your flesh, choked whimpers falling out about how fucking stunning you look when you're stuffed to the brim.

You sob between them as they share a messy kiss over your shoulder, grunting into each other's mouths as they ruin you.

Gaz and Price drag you away soon after they finish, petting your messy hair away from your sticky, sweaty forehead, and splitting you apart between them. You scream into Price's chest as he holds the fat of your ass cheeks open for Gaz to rut into like a man starved for it. Possessed. He coos in your ear when Soap shoves his cock into your gaping mouth, choking you on the thick of him. So fucking good, love. Meant for this. After we'll run you a bath and you sit on my cock while I clean you up, hmm?

You feel a little stripped down to the marrow, pulverised under their wanting hands; when Price presses into your womb, and cums again. The molten spume inside soothes the throbbing ache of your core. A debauched balm to a raw wound.

It would be a lie to say you hate the way it feels to be so full of them. To have their taste in your tongue, sticking to the back of your throat, pooling in your belly, your pussy, your guts. You're full and sore and you feel like one massive contusion—broken and battered and barely clinging to sentience—when his cock slips free with a wet squelch.

It's a little surreal, but—

Comfortable. It shouldn't be. It should be weird, and awkward, and—

Fuck. You had sex with five men in the span of several hours. Your teammates, your captain, no less. And yet.

Yet:

You feel full in a way you'd never been before. Satiated and stupidly fucking happy.

Price snorts when you lay back on the floor, a blissed-out smile tugging on the corners of your mouth.

"Liked it, did you?"

You don't have the capacity for speech. Words escape you. They can't seep through the salty mess in your throat.

Instead, you moan—low and needy—and feel your belly quiver when Price's eyes flash. Smoke and embers. And when Alejandro groans aloud. When Rudy's hand trembles on your skin. When Soap's hand falls to his spent, softened cock, unable to stop the thrum of desire when you sound like you had the best meal in years. When Gaz shivers, and says please tell me we can play this game more often.

It's good. It's—

Footsteps. A hush. A shadow falls over you.

Then: "decide to join in, after all, Lt?"

Ghost's hands are hot on your sensitive flesh.

He says nothing as he crouches down on the floor where Gaz and Price dragged you, but his eyes are liquid when he stares at the mess of you. Drenched, you're sure, in cum; it leaks down your chin, out of your sensitive, raw pussy, and your aching hole. Doused in their pleasure, and burning from the sting of their ardour.

"Fuck, Lt," Soap murmurs, dazed. He'd spent himself on your face only moments ago, and when your glassy eyes fall to him, you find him staring fixed at the apex of your thighs where Ghost slots himself between. "You're gonna ruin her—"

You don't know what he means until you look back. The air in your lungs catches, eyes widening. He's huge. Fat and throbbing, prespend leaks down the absurd length of himself. It twitches when he catches you staring at him, sticky, numbed mouth dropping open.

"S—sir—"

His hand slides, fists the base of himself. He taps the head of his cock against your quivering, sloppy cunt. "Can you take me, pet?"

Shit. Shit—

You don't think you can, not at all, but—

Slick noises around you. Grunts of pleasure. Murmured words. They want to see you split apart on his cock. Stuffed full. Your belly lurches. Heat simmers inside of you once again.

Your trembling eyes find his, and you lay back against the floor, knees parting. Inviting. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip.

"Fill me up, sir—"

He snarls.

Ghost doesn't wait. Doesn't touch you with softness, or reverence. His hands are branding, white-hot, when they fall to your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest. His eyes are glued to the messy seam of your cunt, spilling viscous cum down your ass until it pools below you in a puddle.

You're wrecked. Ruined. You'd had all of them inside of you—your mouth, your pussy, your ass—except him, and your belly flips, head a muddled slurry of want, want, want as the fat head of his cock slips over the milky mess, catching on your ruined, red hole.

"Thought you got lost, Ghost," Alejandro says, words carrying secrets you can't make sense of.

"Never."

He pushes the mushroomed head into your cunt, rumbling at the give of your body as you part for him, sucking him in deep. Ghost fills you up until your belly bulges with the length of him.

Soap moans at the sight. At the way you take the massive cock burrowing deep inside of you.

They all seem to be enjoying the way he ruins you. Over the heft of his shoulder, the thick bracket of his arms, you see them all staring at the way he wrecks you. Batters your body with wet, sloppy noises spilling out.

He fucks you slow: long, deep plunges into your core, gaze sliding in increments to your face, slack and tacky with lashes clumped together with an amalgamation of spittle and cum, and the stretch of your cunt swallowing him to the root. It's intense. Dizzying.

You feel pushed past your breaking point: overarching beyond the mettle until you're a raw nerve exposed to the corrosive chemicals in the air. Split apart and reassembled into something new and vulnerable. You're chafed and aching, and it edges on painful, and blistering like a third-degree burn being rubbed against rough wool. But despite the sting, the graze still feels good when it itches over your inflamed skin. A balm that burns before it soothes.

Ghost—Simon, now, you suppose since he's currently eight inches deep inside of your sore cunt—seems to somehow know. Maybe it's the hoarse crackle in your throat when he hits you deeply, or the exhausted droop of your eyes when he presses his weight against you, filling you up until he sits heavy in your chest, but he takes pity on your poor, battered body bursting with the molasses thick heft of euphoria that congeals inside of your marrow. His thrusts are punctured by the soft way he gazes at you. A physical weight to his stare slams into your chest with each roll of his hips, nudging you back to that steep precipice you'd dropped from so many times you'd lost count.

The dance is familiar.

But the gentle, almost possessive, way he touches you isn't.

"Fuck, Lt. Can see you bulging through her belly."

Soaps words are met with a rasping snarl, a brutal piston of his cock into your gummy, wrung-out walls. A hand falls to your belly, feeling the swell, and the pressure has phosphenes burning your eyelids when they snap shut at the heavy mist of pleasure that falls on you.

You don't think you can cum again. Your head is a slurry of intense pleasure: gummy and stupid on the way they fucked the sense out of you. Synopses misfire. You feel like you're barely cognisant anymore.

It's not good enough, though.

His fingers find your clit, pressing against the tender nub until you're bucking against him, trying to get away from the agonising euphoria pounding through your core.

"I want to feel you cum on my cock, pet."

You can't—

You really can't. But he doesn't relent. He shoves himself into your quivering cunt until you see stars flash across your eyes, and the scent of nirvana permeates in the air.

If you won't go willingly to the vertiginous edge, he'll drag you there instead.

A sharp thrust has your mind whiting out; the overstuffed feeling of being stretched to the brim sits heavy in your core. Your nails press into his shoulders, desperate to hang on to something tangible, real. They dig deeper until the moons flood with blood. It makes him groan—deep, low; rucked coals over open flames—and the noise has you reaching for Orion with your bare hands, mouth dropped low to catch the cosmic dust that permeates in the air between you.

"Fuck—" a sharp whimper has him huffing into your neck, a satisfied noise he can't bite off, can't stifle.

He likes it. Likes spreading you open, and watching you squirm. Likes the flash of pain that flickers across your face when he first kisses your drenched core with the fat head of his cock. Eyes wide, fixed on the scrunch of your brow, the wrinkles in your nose, the deep, punctured gasps that spill from your gaping mouth—he misses nothing, stare branding you.

It's the thick of him when it splits you apart, breaks you in half, that really captures his full attention. Stuffed to the brim, and clawing at him for respite from the way he fits inside of you; he takes it all in. Eyes never wavering. Liquid want flooding the bottom ring of his lower eyelids, a molten pool half hidden behind his lash line. He gazes down at you, fans of ash cresting over.

And then when he bottoms out, when his cock is fully seated inside of your body that struggles to make room to fit him, he lifts his gaze. A perfect polynya. He stares at you, then, watching—almost placidly, impassively—as you grit your teeth from the burn of taking him to the root. A slow roll of his hips to test your mettle; a harsh grind of his cock nestled taut against the plug of your womb. It has you singing.

A test of the water. A battering of the futile clutch you have over your sangfroid. He won't start until it breaks. Until it shatters.

His hands are hot when they grasp the soft skin behind your knees, pointing them down toward your swaying chest as he fucks you open in deep, almost languid cants of his hips until you're grabbing at the ground, and mewling his name. Broken, now, by his cock.

Simon is a storm.

A gale. He ravages you until you're dizzy with the brutal way he takes you—and takes, takes, takes —and begging for mercy.

None comes.

You can't barter with a typhoon. Can't make deals with a hurricane.

It hits. Breaching your shores with enough force to ruin.

"Simon," it is whispered low, constricted. The air in your lungs is liquifying; condensation builds until you're choking.

Another huff. He thrusts harder, head notching into something that has you lurching forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder. You spasm around him until he growls in your ear.

His thighs widen, pitching his hips low as fucks into you, a touch savage. Your leg slips from his hold, the back pressed against the muscles of his beneath you. The coarse hair of his legs tickles your flesh. Goosebumps erupt. You shiver.

The breath you gasp in is wispy, and thin. It isn't enough to quench the ache in your chest, but nor is it enough to truly let you slip into the throes of hypoxia. He brings you to the brink, lets you gaze over the edge of that unknown abyss, but refuses to let you any further. His grip is unyielding. It burrows into you.

Like this, with black moulting over your vision and phosphenes glimmering in the cosmic yonder that stretches out in front of you, you can feel everything. There is a startling clarity that rocks through you. You can feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he slams it into you, prying your walls open as he steals all the air from your lungs.

"Shit—"

He cums with a grunt that sounds like it was dragged through barbed wire. Liquid pleasure blooms when you feel him twitch inside of you, and all you can do is cling to his massive shoulders as he rides you through the throes of bliss battering into your core.

Eyes drink you in: wide in the pale moonlight that spills from the window, cut at the bridge of his nose by the mask, jowls snapping at you. He's bathed entirely in black; drenched in tenebrose. A Stygian being looming over you, taking its wares from the tight clutch of your body, and forcing the air from your lungs until it's filled with the scent of him, and nothing more.

"You look good like this," he murmurs, eyes fever red and cosmic black. "Fuckin' hell, pet. You were made to be fucked, weren't you?"

Your eyes roll back into your head at the gruff sin leaking from behind his mask.

"Yes," you whimper, voice shredded and wrecked. He's not the only one who groans at the sound of you, ruined and aching. "Fuck, I love your cocks—"

It feels like the end. Like you'd been spat out on the wrong side of a tornado, and thrust into a battle you weren't, entirely, prepared for.

But you won. There is victory in the ache that thunders through your joints. A hard-fought war that left you a victor in the middle of a burning no man's land.

You can hear them around you. Price stroking your hair, and whispering about how good you were. Gaz and Soap huffing with exhausted laughter that sounds a touch delirious, as if they still couldn't quite wrap their heads around the act they were buried balls deep inside of you mere moments ago.

Alejandro and Rudy mutter to each other in blistered Spanish. You hear the clink of bottles as they toast each other over a victory, and a fucking gangbang.

They take turns touching you. Caring for you. Rudy makes you drink water, eyes melted chocolate—glossy and sleek with the remnants of pleasure. Aqui. He says, pressing the cool bottle to your sweat-slicked forehead. Aquas. Drink up, mi corazón.

Alejandro supports your shoulders when you struggle to sit up and take a sip. Gaz has a towel pressed to your cheeks, cleaning up the flaking mess of dried cum and sweat. Soap's hands clench yours tight when the bottle shakes in your grasp. Price is there to hold it steady.

Ghost hasn't taken his eyes off of you once since this started. You meet his stare, gloaming light shading everything in gold. He tips his chin. A promise in the obsidian cut of his eyes.

Thought you got lost, Ghost—

Gaz huffs. Gems shatter. Crushed into shards that sit in the palm of your hand, waiting to be reassembled.

(Someday, you think.)

"Best game of never have I ever, ever."

"So….," Soap slurs, cheeks pink and eyes swimming with incipient desire. "Round two?"

8K notes · View notes

xetlynn · 28 days ago

Text

Until Dawn- By Your Side: Chapter Two, Promise

(Joshua Washington X Reader)

[One] [Two] [Three]

“I hope this was the right thing to do.” Sam quietly says, it seemed like it was supposed to be to herself. Chris and I give her a confused expression. “What?” He questions.

“You know, getting everyone together on the anniversary.” She explains further. “I mean Josh seemed really pumped about us all doing something didn’t he.” She starts but it was more of a question in the back of her mind. I just look at her with the same expression I’ve held. “Yeah, no, he definitely did.” Chris assures her. “I haven’t seen him so excited about something in… forever.” He continues, Sam looks at me to see if that’s true and I nod my head. “Good, good.”

“It’s hard to tell with him, and I’ve kinda been worried. Only hearing updates through [Name] or you.” Sam tells the blond as I notice her avoiding eye contact with me. I mean she has every right to feel worried about him but why is she acting sort of weird with me right now. “No, no, it was a good idea.” He tells her.

“I hope everybody else feels the same way.” She whispers. “we’re here aren’t we?” I add in, leaning back. “Well thanks bros, good talk.” She playfully punches both of us. “You know what? Let’s just stop talking about what happened and enjoy the trip.” Chris suddenly tells us. “You know what? You’re right.” Sam sighs.

“You know how Josh and I met?” He switches the subject and I smile, remembering it’s because of me that we all met. “No…?”

“Ok, [Name] became my friend in second grade. Neither of us remember how or when that happened but suddenly we were just friends. In third grade Josh sat in the back of the room, I sat in the front and [Name] was also in the back with Josh. She instantly talked with him and they became friends but somehow Josh and I never knew each other existed. But the kid sitting on the other side of him started strap snapping the training bra on the girl in front of him so the teacher made him move to the front- where I was sitting.” He smiles, and I lean back, listening even though I lived through it. It’s nice to hear. “Okay, so?” Sam asks.

“So I got moved to the back!” He exclaims. “And?”

“And next to Josh, that’s how we met! And us three became friends. To this day. Well [Name] and Josh a bit more than friends now.” He chuckles, pushing me closer to Sam and I roll my eyes, shoving him back. “A match made in heaven.” Sam smirks, “Josh and Chris definitely are.” I say, laughing. Chris scoffs.

“If it weren’t for the fact that Jeanie Simmonds hit puberty like three years early and on that day decided to wear a low cut shirt that showed off her training bra. I mean who knows? You could be riding in this cable car alone or with just [Name].” He pulls out a hypothetical and I shake my head. “Right now. Or talking to some other person or persons entirely. Boom: Butterfly effect.” He does a mic drop motion with his hand. “You’re so dramatic, Chris.” I sigh.

The cable car gets to our destination and we climb out. We try to open the door but it doesn’t budge. It had been a couple minutes of trying to get the stupid thing to open. “Jessica, over here!” Sam suddenly calls and I stay in the back after hearing my sister’s name. We were supposed to come here together but after I found out she’s going after Mike, we had a huge argument and I want nothing to do with her. “Uh… are you guys having a really weird stroke?” Jess asks them.

“We’re stuck in this stupid thing.” Chris answers her. “Can you please let us out? Pretty please?” Sam asks.

“Jess, don’t play a dumb prank either, just hurry up.” I tell her, annoyed. She ignores me and presses the button, letting us out. “Oh, my God. I thought we were goners. Another ten minutes in there and I would have chewed off my own leg.” Chris exasperates. “Aw, sick, Chris.” Sam mutters. “Like I said before, you’re dramatic.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Look I got a lot of meat on my bones. This is all muscle down here.” He explains and I just walk away from them. I hear them talk about Jessica having a crush on Mike. Jessica telling them about how she’s with him.

I take my phone out and text my boyfriend. Wondering if he’s got everything set up. I don’t get a response though.

I walk behind everyone as we make our way up to the lodge until I find my way back to Chris and Sam who’s weirdly being quiet. “Chugger gonna make her big come back this weekend?” He asks me and I glare up at him. “Again with this?” I groan, both of us stop walking and I place my hands on my hips as I stand in front of him. “I’m just saying Josh found her pretty hot.” He puts his hands up defensively.

“Chris, we’re 20 years old now, Chugger no longer exists. Plus Josh still finds me hot. Obviously because we’re dating.” I scrunch my nose, irritated on this being a conversation once again. He goes to say something but has a smirk tied to his lips, I glance to Sam who was looking behind me.

Suddenly arms wrap around my waist and I’m lifted up into the air. I let out a squeal, kicking my feet. “Woah!” I get placed back on the ground and then spun around.

“Hello, my beautiful darling.” It was Josh, he pulls me into his arms and I hear him sniff my hair. I let out a laugh. “Hi, my love.” I look up and he kiss my lips. “Where have you been?” I ask him.

“Oh you know, around. Setting everything up. Or at least trying to.” He frowns. “Hm, I tried texting you.” I pull away from him.

“Sorry, haven’t really been on it much with all the running around.” He rubs the back of his head. I stare at him, my face scrunched with confusion. He’s acting weird. He gives me a wink and I roll my eyes.

We get to the stairs of the lodge.

“Man I feel like this mountain gets bigger every time I climb it.” Chris complains, he keeps walking behind me and kicking the heel of my shoe. “Oh yeah? Feels the same to me.” Josh says, grabbing my hand. “Oh come on, you grew up here. It probably feels like it’s shrinking.” Chris huffs.

“I guess that’s true.” Josh smiles, squeezing my hand. “When are you gonna install some cell towers up here? I’m getting withdrawals already.” The blond criticizes the mountain, lifting his phone in the air to try to get some sort of service.

“You got a spare million lying around and I’ll fix you right up.” Josh jokes, chuckling to himself and I smile. “Funny you should say that…” He checks his pockets as we start walking once again. “Ah I think I left it in my other jacket.” Chris points back. “Oops.” Josh shrugs. “Darn, that sucks.” I snap my fingers.

“Hey guys… Get up here okay?” Josh questions the rest of the group ahead of us.

“Yeah… well, more or less. But it’s so good to see you!” Ashley smiles to my boyfriend and then makes eye contact with me, giving a big grin. I’ve always loved Ashley. She’s a sweetheart. I’m iffy about her after the prank but Josh keeps telling me the twins would’ve wanted me to forgive them. It feels like I should be telling him that. In the beginning his anger was strong…

“Sup with him?” Josh motions to an upset looking Matt. Matt just looks away, I let out a breath. “Let’s just get inside.” I whisper, tugging Josh to come up the stairs.

“Yo yo yo! Are we gonna get things moving up here or what?” Chris asks Josh. “Yeah man!” He smiles.

He grips my hand once again and I look up at him. Wondering why he keeps doing that. “Hey… you doin’ alright?” Our friend gets serious, my eyes soften and lean closer into my boyfriend. Wanting to know the same thing even though I’m with him so much. His mind can go everywhere sometimes. “I mean I know it must be really tough without your sis-“

“Stop.” Josh warns him, letting go of my hand. “I just meant that-“

“No I know what you meant. You know seriously I’m over it and I just want us to have a good time, you know? Like we always used to.” Josh turns away from us and I frown, I know he’s not okay. I don’t know why he said he’s over it. He doesn’t have to be over it.

Chris nods his head though, “Right, Chugger could come out like she used to. But she won’t budge through this facade.” Chris pokes my side.

“Shut up about the Chugger thing already.” I throw my head back, jokingly gripping my head. “If my lady says no Chugger, that means no Chugger, sir.” Josh points a finger in our best friend’s face with a smile. Turning back around to try and open the door. “Dammit, this freaking thing.” He curses.

“It’s iced?” I ask. “What else.”

“Maybe there’s another way in.” Chris suggests. “There are a million ways in. They’re just all locked.” Josh continues to try with the door. “There’s gotta be, like, a window round the corner we can get like, get open or something.” Chris tells my boyfriend who stands up straighter at his idea.

“Wait a second, are you saying we should break in?” He questions Chris. “I don’t think it’s technically breaking in if you own the place, right?” Chris laughs.

“Hey, not if I don’t report you.” Josh jokes, making our friend nervous. “Lead the way, Cochise!” He motions him to go back down the stairs.

Once we get down Chris talks to Ashley. Josh and I watching the scene, his hand finds his way back to mine and I feel a kiss on my jawline. “I missed you.” He whispers in my ear and I smile. “I saw you three days ago.” I keeps my eyes looking ahead of me. “Three days too long.” He pulls me closer to him, kissing my neck making me laugh because it tickles.

“All right, all right, love birds. Keep it moving!” Chris orders us, shooing at us like we were cattle or a flock of birds. Instead of arguing we move it. Wanting to get inside. “Ashley was looking pretty hot today, right?” I teasingly ask the blond.

“Yeah if you don’t hit I’m sure Mike will get on that case.” Josh tells him, I pinch his hand, thinking that was a little too far. “Hey, cut it out you two.” Chris shakes his head but doesn’t lock eye contact with us. “Re-laaax I’m just checkin’ to see if there’s some blood flowin’ down there.” Josh laughs. “Tsk yeah…”

“Listen dude. Look around you. Look at these beautiful mountains. Do you see any parents?” Josh even takes a glance around him as he instructed our friend to do the same. “I mean can you imagine a more perfect, ripe scenario, just dripping with erotic possibilities? You, and Ashley, alone at last…” Josh makes up a hypothetical and I can see how these two are best friends. “You’ve laid all the groundwork… you’ve been a perfect gentleman. Now you come in for the kill!” Josh dramatically tells him. I let out a sigh at this awful conversation.

“Maybe you’re right.” Chris smiles.

“You’re a hunter bro. No fear. No mercy. I mean she won’t even know what hit her.” We walk around him and start back up to get to another way inside the lodge. “Alright, alright. I got it. Jeez.”

“You’re gross, Joshua.” I gently push him, he snickers pushing my back but we’re still holding hands. “You know I’m only messing.” He stops us to kiss me on the lips before continuing again.

“So how are we planning on breaking in to my parents lodge, bud?” Josh asks Chris. “Wait, I didn’t say I had a plan-“

“You sounded like you had a plan.” I chime in, Josh hums, agreeing with me. “You better deliver, Cochise, or else you got five lovely ladies who are gonna be freezing their bus off and last time I checked, that’s not a good way to get laid.” Josh tells him, playfully squeezing my hand and I scoff.

“All you think about is your penis.” I mumble. “Mm, maybe.” He whispers back to me. “well shoot, nobody likes cool buns.” Chris says.

Chris walks over to where an emergency axe should be but he lets out a disappointing sounding “oh.” Then he goes over to a cupboard? “Well well well. We got ourselves a thinker. Nice one.” Josh pats the thing, letting go of my hand. They push it over to the closest window. I watch them do the work.

“Who’s gonna get in there first?” Chris jokingly asks us. I shrug my shoulders. “if you want, I can do it.” I offer but Josh immediately pulls me back shaking his head in disagreement. “No, no, let Chris go.” He tells me, I look to Chris who waves it off. Climbing on the thing.

He lifts the window open and climbs inside the building. We hear a thud and him groan afterwards. I wince. “C’mon.” Josh lifts himself up and then helps me beside him but there’s barely any room. “Ugh, I’m okay!” Chris moans. “I should’ve pain more attention in climbing class…” He talks to himself. “You mean gym?” Josh furrows his brows as I laugh.

“Yeah, you know, with the climbing up the rope.” He stands up from the ground and then the light in the room shatters. “whoa.” Josh steps back, I almost slip but I catch myself. “Did I do that?” Chris asks.

“I don’t… I don’t think so. Here, use this.” Josh throws him a lighter. “Whoa- Chris, I just got an awesome idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Totally!”

“Well what is it?” Chris asks, looking up to us. “Okay. So I am pretty sure that I’ve got some deodorant in one of the bathrooms… you could use that with the lighter.” Josh tells him. “I don’t follow. How’s a stick of deodorant gonna help?”

“Spray on. It’s a can.” Josh corrects him. “Ohhh yeah, now I gotcha. “Flamethrower.”

“Just like we do with the lil army dudes.” Chris excitedly remembers and I wince at the memory. The smell of the plastic burning in my nose. “Yup. The ones we melted. Just point the spray-can at the lighter and Fwoosh!” Josh flings his arms up, almost knocking me before he grabbed onto my waist quickly. “Bye-bye frozen lock.” Chris chuckles. “Bingo.” Josh looks to the side. “Alright, so you got this. I’m gonna go sort something out- you up for hunting around in the dark for a little bit?” He asks Chris, I’m confused on what he has to sort out.

“Nope. But I’ll do it.” The blond shrugs. “Godspeed pil’grim.” Josh salutes to him before jumping down and then motioning for me to get on his back. “In the snow?” I nervously ask.

“Yes, I got you.” He says. “I… okay.” I slowly get onto his back and I feel his hands grip my thighs immediately. He makes his way back to the front of the lodge. Sam and Ashley were still sitting there. “I gotta go do something, I’ll be back.” He pats my thigh and I jump down.

“Joshua, where are you going?” I ask him in a quiet tone, we were a few feet away from the stairs still. “Just a sorting out a surprise for everyone.” He doesn’t look me in the eye and I fold my arms across my chest. “You’re acting strange, love.” I tell him.

“I’ll tell you later, I promise.” He puts his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him. “You promise?” I raise my brows, he smiles. “Of course.” He gives me a long kiss before letting me go.

I go over to Ashley and Sam who are huddled up together. “Where’s Chris?” Ashley asks and I laugh. “He’s in the house, gonna open the door for us.” I inform them, sitting with them.

“Where’d Josh head to?” Sam speaks up and I glance off to the direction he was heading. “Um, I don’t actually know. He told me he would tell me later.” I frown, now feeling myself getting colder. “Weird.” She mumbles.

“Let’s go over to the door so we can get that fire started as soon as possible.” I pat both of them and we stand up. Walking up the stairs to the front door.

Masterlist

J. W. Masterlist

Taglist: If you want to be added lmk!

@my1fx

@scarletrosesposts

@jenepleurepasbaby

@httpvomitello

@britbratface

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hunterwritings · 1 year ago

Note

I love your Miguel with a bubbly reader! Can we please see more of it? Like maybe Miguel is scolding the other Spiders and Reader walks in and Miguel is like a whole new person but still wants to murder the other Spiders? It makes me think of the tik tok where its like "IM GOING TO KILL THE NEXT PERSON I SEE" *Reader walks in* "Hi honey!" *Miguel with heart eyes* "Your back! I missed you so much (insert Miguel gushing about how much he loves Reader in front of Spiders)"

THIS IS THE TROPE I LIVE FOR

only for you | miguel o'hara

summary: Miguel acts like a completely different person with you around. warnings: none | wc: 1075

"How could you let something like this happen?!"

Miguel was seething; Miles swears he could almost see smoke coming out of his ears. The spider teens had almost disrupted another canon event and almost caused the universe to collapse.

"Listen Miguel, I know the kids made some mistakes but, that's exactly what they were! Mistakes!" Peter B. Parker tried to reason with him, with his hands stretched out and a stupid smile on his face.

"You want to put the fate of the multiverse on a goddamn mistake? I will not risk that." Miguel fired back.

"To be honest, I don't know what the big deal is, they ended up fixing it." Peter added. Miguel snapped his head around to face him, his eyes would be burning holes through him if looks could kill.

"No Peter, you don't understand the importance of this! And clearly, neither do you all!" He said, gesturing towards the teens. "It just shows that you are just as responsible as a child! So Peter, do yourself a favor, and shut the hell up." Miguel had venom laced in his words.

"Ooo...kay." Peter responded, shaking his head and pursing his lips together.

"Miguel, we know that we made mistakes and we are sorry, it will never happen again." Gwen tried to apologize genuinely to him.

"Uh, I don't apologize actually, I see nothin' wrong with what we did-" Hobie protested, Pavitr elbowed him to signal him to stop.

"You all know exactly what we do here, you know the importance of keeping everything in line. I'm this close to kicking you all out of Spider Society!" He yells, showing his fingers pinched together.

"You can't kick us out if we all quit!" Hobie laughs.

"Hobie!" Gwen snaps her head around at him.

"I- I- I can't even deal with you right now!" Miguel holds his pointer finger and thumb to his temples as he turns his back to them.

Just then, you swing in from the other side of him and jump down to land next to him. "Hi Miguel." You smile as he turns to look at you.

"Gracias a Dios [thank god], I'm so glad you're here (Y/N)." He seemed to have relief flow into his body as he reached over a pulled you into his chest. You chuckled in surprise from the sudden affection as he tightly wraps his arms around your shoulders. "Felt like I was about to lose it in a couple more seconds." He whispers into your ear.

"Well luckily, I showed up right on time then." You giggle as he lets you go and you look up at him with a smile.

"You have no idea." He smirked and shook his head.

"Oh thank god you're here (Y/N), I was afraid he was gonna start biting soon!" Peter laughed as you turned around to face the group. Miguel stared him down.

"Soo, what's going on here?" You curiously ask.

"Trying to have a serious conversation with people who have no respect for what we do around here." He snaps to them.

"Don't look at me! I wasn't even there, I'm just trying to stand up for the kids!" Peter says, holding his hands up in defense. Miguel just groans and shakes his head.

"Oh Miguel, maybe you should go a little easy on them." You say, walking up to him. He rests his hands on your hips and sighs when you lie your hand on his cheek. "I mean, we should be happy that no one got hurt and the universe is still intact." you smile at him and he matches your smile.

He hums in response. "Plus, I think this lecture will scare them enough to where this shouldn't happen again." You add.

"You'd be surprised how many of these talks I've had." He scoffs and smirks.

You laughed loudly. "Just remember they're kids and they're trying their best." You smiled and he nodded. "Be easy on them." You added.

"I will." He said softly.

You grinned before leaning up and pulling his neck down to pull him into a sweet kiss. You felt him smile against your lips as he hummed. You pulled away and smiled at him before hearing a beeping on your watching.

"Oh, I've got a situation going on in my universe." You say tapping the hologram on your wrist.

"You need any help with it?" Miguel asks, ready to leave in a second if asked him to.

"No, it's nothing major, don't worry. It shouldn't take that long, I should be back before dinner." You say, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking the other way.

"Oh! Maybe I'll grab some food from that Italian place we always go to!" You say, walking backwards to face him and smiling widely while opening up a portal behind you.

"Sounds like a good plan, my love." He agrees with a smile.

You chuckle before pulling down your mask and jumping into the portal as it closes.

Miguel's smile lingers on his face before seeing Peter B. Parker in his peripheral before he slung his arm around his shoulder and laughed. "Oh wow, you really love them huh? I can tell by the way you don't act like a raging monster when they're around." He jokes as Miguel just stares ahead, his demeanor was agitated. "Get off of me, Peter." He said with no emotion.

"Okay, not gonna risk getting my arm torn off today." He says, backing off from Miguel.

"Aw, seems like you're really in love, eh?" Hobie jokes and Gwen shoves him slightly.

"You're not helping, Hobie." Miles says anxiously.

"I'm not trying to." Hobie says in all seriousness.

"Okay, everyone out. We're done here. " Miguel says with his back turned to them and his hands on his hips.

"Let's leave before he changes his mind." Gwen whispers to the rest of them.

"If I have to do this again for any of you, it's gonna be the last time." Miguel warns as he points at them.

"Yes Miguel, we understand and we promise." Gwen says genuinely.

Miguel sighs and turns his back to them as they all turn to leave the room. A slight smile came to face at the thought of you prancing back into his space with food in hand. He stood and watched his communicator in case you needed his help, and waited for you to come back.

#— hunterwritings #hunterwritings #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 #atsv x you #atsv miguel

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jsprnt · 7 months ago

Text

Americano PT. 8 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: this one is a bit on the shorter side, but I promise next chapter will be juicy! 😉

W/C: 3.086

part seven

"Wait- why am I actually kind of bitter about this?"

I mumble, looking up at Luis. He turns around, moving his camera away to look at me.

"Bitter about what?" He asks, fidgeting with the settings of the device.

"They literally crap out money- but get a free BMW?" I question, folding my arms.

"Oh, please. Will you stop being such a negative person?"

He gives me a nasty look, his hand coming to grab my arm.

"Or go sit in the car..?" He adds, pointing behind me.

"No, it's too hot to sit in the car.." I complain, adjusting my sleeve.

"Why did you even follow me here in the first place?" He asks, raising his brows.

"I was done with my to-do list and didn't want to stay cooped up in the office.."

Not to mention to avoid the insanely annoying looks I had been receiving ever since those stupid rumors and photos had been out.

"Okay, just stay back and watch then.."

I watch him make cinematic shots of each individual model and car. My patience begins to thin when he's still busy with it twenty minutes later.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to keep myself busy. I carefully scroll through my Instagram explore page, ignoring the thousands of follower requests to my account.

The internet was very quick, so within hours of my face being online, people had found both my full name and social media accounts.

"y/n!"

I freeze, holding my phone against my chest, and turn in the direction the noise came from.

I make immediate eye contact with Valeria, her obnoxiously fake smile burning my eyes instantly.

"Yeah? Anything wrong with the shoot?" I ask, shoving my phone into my pocket.

"No, the players have just arrived- and it's a better look if you're off your phone and look interested."

I fight the urge to snort at her ridiculous comment, and just nod before I lose it.

"Sure, any reason you're here today? It's only for some short clips..”

I watch her take a step forward, a hand reaching up to her hip. She moves her neck in a weird way, staring at me for a moment.

"It's always good to see how my juniors work, and how close they are to the players is really something I like keeping an eye on.."

Oh- surprise, she was here for something stupid!

I was already over her snarky remarks, especially those insinuating a romantic relationship between Jude and me.

The thought only makes me want to gag.

I shiver at the cursed idea, noticing a few players already walking over to check out the new car they chose, and look back at Valeria.

"Well, I'm sure some of the guys really need your presence and knowledge. Please, go and join them.."

I instigate, hoping and wishing she goes to bother Toni instead.

For some reason, he could handle her bullshit really well.

"Oh, don't mind if I do.." She chuckles, immediately turning her back to me and walking away.

I sigh in relief, rubbing my nape to try to release some tension from my body.

I begin walking up to the cars myself, reading off every license plate to see which player got what model.

I stop at the car chosen by Aurélien, observing the details of the 'i4 eDrive35'.

« Très belle, non? » I hear him say. I nod, pursing my lips.

« Le couleur- noir est parfait.. » I compliment, stepping back to get a better view.

I open my mouth to say something else- but I'm startled by a loud car horn, it almost makes my eardrums explode. I shut my eyes tightly, not reacting fast enough to cover my ears properly.

"What the fuck.." I mumble, looking to my left. An obviously aggravated expression on my face, because who the hell thought that was a good idea?

“Jude! Get out of your mom’s car, please!” I exclaim, seeing him stand at the driver’s door.

The man couldn’t even drive, but got to choose a car for himself?

Not even that- he also chose the most expensive model worth more than a hundred thousand euros?

Life is so unfair.

“You’re standing in the way!” He exclaims, walking around to sit in the passenger seat. Another staff member comes over to drive him around the parking lot.

I give him a nasty look, stepping aside and looking back at Aurélien.

“Why don’t you join him?” He suggests, an obvious smirk on his face.

“What? Why would I do that?” I ask, raising my brows and folding my arms defensively.

“You know- nice car and fun drive..” He trails off, glancing at the moving car.

“I would feel like I’m in danger without him even being the driver..” I state, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand.

He chuckles, as if to mock the fear for my safety. I shrug it off, looking behind me to see where Luis is.

“Come on- get in the car and I’ll get Luis to do a little video..” I usher, walking away to get Luis.

The entire shoot takes us about an hour before we’re finally done. I quickly bid farewell and thank fellow staff members for their hard work before jumping into my car.

I go to start my car, looking up to see where Luis is. I roll my windows down, letting some fresh air into the car, hoping he’ll be here quickly.

“No- it’s just annoying because I’m trying to do my job properly and I’m getting the craziest stares. Like, does having a conversation with someone mean we’re married with three kids and a chihuahua?!” I exclaim, looking at Amira on FaceTime.

“And you attended his match, and you wore his name on your shirt and spoke to his family and-"

I cut her off with a loud groan, rubbing my eyes in irritation.

“You’re the one who set me up!”

“I thought you already knew it was his shirt! Should I have worn Jude’s while you wore Trent’s?” She defends herself, a smirk forming on her lips.

I shake my head, dropping my pencil on the table.

I had been studying all day and had stopped the instant Amira called me.

“The way I can’t even get mad at anyone about this- ugh..” I complain, shifting in my chair.

“And those follow requests are so annoying..”

I grumble, totally aware of the fact that I had been complaining about literally every single thing and then some.

“Girl, if you set your account on public again and accept those followers..”

“What? I’m going to clout chase being that douche's fake girlfriend?”

“Obviously?”

“I have to take over my dad’s firm one day, and you want me to be known for dating my coworker?”

“Too late-"

I stop paying attention to what she’s saying when the front door opens, my gaze moving to see my dad walking in.

“I’m going to call you back later.” I mutter to Amira, waving at her until she hangs up.

I close my laptop, standing up to walk over to the door.

“Hey, dad- you’re late.” I say, grabbing his laptop bag off of him.

“I had a lot of work to review. Did you have dinner?” He asks, hanging his coat up on the coat rack.

“I had some of the food auntie Carmen made. You?”

“We all had dinner in the office. Everyone has been going home late these days.” He says, washing his hands in the kitchen sink before loosening his tie.

“With what?” I ask, setting his laptop bag on the table, prying into his business.

“Can’t say, but- don’t you think you need to tell me something?” He suddenly asks, turning to me.

I freeze, looking at him with wide eyes.

What the hell would I be hiding from him?

“Uh- no? I’m not sure what you’re talking about?” I state, scratching my nape in confusion.

“Are you sure?” He presses on, coming to hold onto my shoulders.

“I’m sure. What am I supposed to hide from you?” I ask, getting rather defensive, a frown forming in between my brows as I keep staring at him.

He notices my irritation, letting go of my shoulders and holding his hands up in surrender.

“Okay- I understand. Don’t get all angry at me..” He says, smiling.

“I’m not angry- just confused..”

“Forget I asked- How was work? How about you tell me about that instead?”

I purse my lips, looking down at my laptop.

“Alright, the players got new cars, so we had to do a shoot for BMW..” I mutter, fiddling with my notebook.

“You look so down, y/n. What? Are you jealous? I got you your new Audi less than two years ago..”

“What do you mean, dad? I love that car, would not exchange an Audi for a BMW- I have some car knowledge.” I state, my expression changing as I explain to him.

“That’s right! Come to me when you really want to change your car. I’ll call up some people I know.”

I make my way towards the printer, looking for the documents I had sent over to be copied a couple hours ago. Finding them, I quickly read them through to confirm the pages are complete, until I’m stopped by Hugo.

“Are you ready for El Classico week?” He asks, making a copy of something.

Most people, as in football fans, would say an El Classico is a match you shouldn’t miss. The long-standing rivalry between the two clubs was always interesting to watch, and I would definitely agree a hundred percent-

Only, if it didn’t mean we had to ensure our match posts, interviews, and statements were properly prepared and triple-checked and approved days leading up to the match.

Of course, I loved watching the game- but the way it exhausted literally everyone involved was no fun.

What made it harder was the fact that we had a whole Champions League match to worry about first. To sum it all up, no one was getting sleep for the next two weeks.

“Yeah, just really busy with preparations.” I reply, folding the corner of the documents.

“Good luck, we’ve all been having sleepless nights. It will be worth it in the end- you’ve experienced this before. Just keep on doing what you always do.”

I nod in acknowledgment, smiling at him.

“You’re right, we will put our best foot forward.” I give him a thumbs up, chuckling.

“Good- I’ll see you at lunch. Work hard!” He encourages, patting my shoulder before leaving with his printed papers.

I sigh in relief when he leaves, making my way up to my desk. I place the documents on the table, before running down to the pitch. Having to finish some last-minute recording of the match preparations.

I walk over to the pitch, training is already in full motion, and I notice Luis already there. I look around for any other staff members, only seeing the creepy guy I ran into weeks ago standing across the pitch.

The guy was a walking, real-life jumpscare at this point. I’d only run into him at random moments, and the way he’d look at me had my heart leaping into my throat.

“You’re late.” Luis complains, bringing me out of my thoughts, fiddling with a black cable.

“Did those two minutes kill you?” I ask, sighing, and look at the players who were training.

“Of boredom, yes..” He replies, and I notice the small- very slight compliment in his words. A smile forming on my face as I chuckle.

“We would’ve been absolutely fucked if Kepa didn’t save that one..” I mutter, insanely stressed, as I eye the scoreboard in the Lluís Companys Olympic Stadium. A temporary stadium FC Barcelona had been using for this season.

“Don’t say that- you have no trust in this team whatsoever..” Luis complains, looking up at me.

“Who will score?” I ask, we loved guessing who would score and assist goals during every match.

“Jude.” He immediately says, not hesitating one bit.

“No- I’m guessing Vinicius..” I say, eyes darting back to my laptop screen.

“I will be right- just watch..”

“It’s his second El Classico and his first in season one. What is he going-” I immediately stop talking when I notice a chance to score, my hands tangle into my shirt as I see how much space there is to score.

I gasp, and my jaw slacks open when Jude scores an absolute screamer, which I’d obviously never admit to him.

“I told you!” Luis screams, celebrating like it’s his birthday. I scoff, secretly happy we were put out of our 0-1 misery, and search for the draft I’m supposed to publish.

A couple minutes pass, it’s almost full time, and extra time is finally announced. The away side is full of Madridistas, all sitting on the edge of their seats until Luca kicks the ball towards Jude and GOAL!

The away side celebrates happily, with another El Classico win in our pocket. I quickly manage and do what I have to do, before we both get up to go back inside.

I was both delighted and annoyed at the fact that we won. Of course, it’s always amazing to win a match like this, especially when we were doing so well this season. Also because it’s Luca’s 500th match, and an assist is pretty amazing to pull off on a day like this.

The only thing making me have bitter feelings was the fact that I had to interview Jude today. Normally, Man Of The Match interviews with him were already horrific to experience. An elaborate interview with him, after I’d been avoiding him like the plague, wasn’t necessarily something I would want to do.

“Can you go first? I’ve got to pee really badly..” I say to Luis, placing my bag down and running towards the restroom. Finishing my business up quickly and washing my hands thoroughly.

I look around me for a bit, knowing that sometimes players would use these restrooms as well. I had heard about instances where the players of the opposite team had raged against our team’s staff members. Which definitely had me watching my back in moments like these.

I had interacted with some players of FC Barcelona, and they hadn’t been disrespectful so far.

Thus, I’m not too fazed when the door to the restroom opens. I look up as a sweaty and tired Ferran Tores walks in.

We make immediate eye contact, and I nod in greeting, shooting him a quick ‘hello' before pulling some paper towels from the dispenser to dry my hands.

He seems to be seething in anger, so I break eye contact, looking away.

“This is a staff bathroom, are you aware of that?”

He suddenly says, water splashing from the faucet as he begins washing his face.

“Sorry?” I question, wondering what he’s getting at.

“Not for girlfriends.” He mutters, turning the faucet off.

My face twists into one of confusion, the words throwing me for a loop. Seems like he notices, and he opens his mouth again.

“You’re Bellingham’s girl, aren’t you? This is the staff restroom.” He enunciates every single word as if I’m a kindergartner, it makes me freeze for a second.

I struggle to stop myself from reacting thoughtlessly, not knowing if I should be crying or laughing.

My hand reaches for my staff badge hanging from my neck, waving it in front of his face.

“Do I look like a girlfriend?” I ask, dropping my badge and stepping out before he can apologize.

Asshole, losing doesn’t give you the right to be so damn rude.

How could I even get rid of these stupid fucking rumors?

“Okay, smile!” I exclaim, holding Luis’s camera up to take a photo of the squad. With the happiness of winning an El Classico and the celebration of Luca's milestone came a lot of excitement and enthusiasm.

I hold back a chuckle at the sight of Aurélien laying on the floor, instructing some of them to move a bit for a better shot.

We take multiple photos together, staff members taking photos with the squad while I force them to stand in front of the camera.

“y/n, come here, and we’ll take a picture!” Antonio urges, snatching the camera off of me and pushing me to stand in front of the camera.

I feel myself being pushed, until I find myself almost pressing into Jude’s side.

I curse to myself, forcing an awkward smile as I pose next to everyone.

“What? Surely, you don’t think I bite?” Jude whispers, his arm dropping to his side.

“Please, shut up and pose. We still have that interview, so don’t start now..” I mutter between a clenched smile, pretending I’m not fazed.

I hear a soft chuckle, a mocking and breathy ‘sure’ leaving his mouth.

It gives me shivers down my spine, and I fight the urge to step on his shoe, focusing on posing instead.

This will be a long, long interview..

“You should’ve told me you’re leaving.” I mumble, mouth full of cereal and milk.

“Sorry, been so busy, didn’t even come to mind.” My dad says, walking around the house as he gets ready for work.

“Where is that blue tie I just got?” He shouts from his room.

“I ironed it! It’s in the bottom drawer!” I shout, scrolling through my messages.

“Got it!”

I hum, chugging the leftover milk in my bowl before standing up from the dining table.

“When are you going? Will you be gone for long?” I ask, watching him put the tie on in his bedroom.

“This weekend. It’s a crucial case, so I’ll be back when it’s totally over. Don’t get up to mischief. I know how you get when you’re home alone.” He points, giving me a stern look.

“Yeah, sure, I will plan a house party or two..” I joke, but it doesn’t land as he continues staring me down.

“Okay! I will be a responsible adult and call you or auntie Carmen when something happens..”

“Good, I’m leaving to get to work. Will you be back on time for dinner?” He says, grabbing his paperwork and laptop bag.

“Yeah, can we order in tonight?” I give him a pleading look, walking him out.

“You know I can’t deny my daughter happiness in the form of burgers and fries...”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football #football imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid

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ranhaitanisgf · 11 months ago

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🤺back🤺🤺🤺back i say🤺🤺 it’s my turn to request something for hana’s event🤺

may i please request a scenario with baji + flower shop in which he goes to buy his mom flowers as an apology but doesn’t know what to get, so he just picks out random flowers that actually mean everything except “i’m sorry” so you help him out?

by the way, you don’t have to write this part, but i just thought it would be cute if he develops a crush on you and you see him at a different flower shop buying a small bouquet and you think he’s betraying you, but later he shows up at your shop, awkward and stiff, with that same bouquet to ask you out because his mom said that’s the proper way to do it. just wanted to share that little add-on with you!!

— baji keisuke // flower shop // love at first sight

☆ ˎˊ˗ heyyy ... arba idk if ur still active IM SRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG i disappeared D: we miss u come back ... also this idea was sooo cuteeee arghjhghjghjhg i actually went soo overboard w this but it was too good!!

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader implied

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.2k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

you’d had your eye on him since he’d walked into the store.

it wasn’t for any particular reason aside from the fact that he seemed to be feeling wholly out of place, which made you giggle a bit as he shuffled around, muttering and grumbling to himself as he awkwardly looked at different bouquet arrangements.

he definitely didn’t seem like the type to be buying flowers either; his long dark hair and overall brusque demeanor didn’t exactly give you the impression that he was someone who would go around buying flowers, (and was that him that pulled up on a literal motorcycle?! he seemed like he was around your age!!).

under normal circumstances you would have gone up to assist, but you decided to sit back and see how this boy was going to play this one out, (he was really cute, but if a cute boy like him was in a flower shop, he was undoubtedly buying flowers for his girlfriend). it was quite the entertaining spectacle to see him walking around, his eyebrows pinched together as he tried to find something that he found suitable. at one point, he even seemed to phone someone for help, though he hung up rather quickly after yelling that he definitely was not buying flowers!!

after minutes and minutes of walking around, he finally picked up two bouquets of flowers; geraniums and tansies. you had to restrain your laughter as he walked up to the register, damn near shaking to keep yourself from bursting out into giggles.

“d-did you find everything, pff--ahem! did you find everything alright today?” you had let your giggles slip through on accident, and even though you tried to cover it up with a cough, you could tell that it failed immensely from the ticked off look on the boy’s face.

“you’ve got a lot of nerve to be laughin’ at me-” he started, the deep tone of his voice taking you off guard.

“n-no! i’m not really laughing at you per se…well, kind of.” you tried to explain. “see, okay, do you know what flower language is?” the boy quirked an eyebrow at this, giving you the sort of look that says go on. “well, it gives flowers different meanings, y’know? so unless you’re trying to pick a fight, i really wouldn’t suggest using these flowers.”

“...what do they mean?”

“geraniums and tansy flowers together…you would be calling the person stupid and then be declaring war on them.” the boy’s amber eyes widened, his lips pressing together in a thin line as his brows furrowed together once more. “if you’d like, i can suggest flowers with a more…caring meaning for your girlfriend.” the boy’s eyebrows shot up at your words, making you wonder if you’d said something wrong.

“girlfriend? these’re for my mom.”

“oh! sorry, i just assumed-ah, never mind. now, let me see…” you stood up from your seat, gathering the flowers in front of you in your arms and coming out from behind the counter. after you put the flowers back, you looked around for a moment, a few ideas floating through your mind.

“hmm, why are you getting her flowers?”

“...’cause…” he mumbled a bit, making you lean in a bit.

“what was that?”

“‘c-cause! i made her cry…” despite the fact that his voice had raised a little bit, all you could sense from him was embarrassment and shame, especially from the look on his face, (he almost looked like a kicked puppy). the sight made you smile softly; it wasn’t often that you got genuine customers like this, so you were going to make it your mission to help him.

“alright, give me one moment…” your eyes flicked throughout the store, taking a few moments to weigh different options before making a decision. you ended up grabbing three bouquets; white tulips, daffodils, and some small filler greenery with bits of baby’s breath.

you walked back behind the counter, setting the bouquets down in front of you. the black-haird boy had followed you aimlessly around the store, eventually ending up back in front of the register. there was a kind of quiet curiosity in his eyes as he watched your practiced movements, (truthfully, you weren’t used to someone watching you do bouquet arrangements with such an intent stare).

“i’m doing this for you right now because i want to help you, but for future reference, you usually have to call ahead a day or two for this.” a smile played on your lips as you unwrapped the flowers in front of you, glancing up a bit to look at the boy.

it was only for a moment, but his amber gaze staring right at you caught you off guard, making your heart skip a beat. you immediately looked back down, busying your hands and trimming the leaves off of the flowers. the rest of your work was done in silence; trimming the end of the flower stems, arranging them in a way that looks pleasing, opening some of the flowers to match the rest. it was relaxing work, so much so that you almost forgot about the boy in front of you.

almost.

the whole time you were working you could feel his gaze on you, looking up a few times just to look back down immediately. you felt a little bit anxious throughout the process, hoping that he would deem your work acceptable enough for his mom, (your anxiousness was also from the fact that a very cute boy was watching you, but that was aside from the point).

you finished the final step, delicately wrapping the flowers in a thick brown paper and securing them in place with the tie of a thick ribbon.

“there, all set! what do you think?” you asked cheerily, admiring the flowers you had put together. in your mind, you thought it looked pretty good, but it wasn’t your opinion that mattered here.

“yeah…they look good.”

“yay! i’m glad you like them!” you handed the bouquet over to him, a rush of happiness flooding through you at his approving words. “i hope you’ll come again!”

“wait, how much was this?” he started to pat around his pockets for his wallet, but you shook your head.

“don’t worry about it, it’s on me! just make sure to come back if you need more flowers, though i hope it’ll be for a better reason!”

“i will…” he stared at you for a moment, a questioning look in his eyes. “hey, if you keep looking at me like that i’m going to take it back, so go apologize to your mom!” you ushered, waving bye to him.

“thanks.” if you weren’t looking closely, you probably would have missed the small smile on his face before he left.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

“isn’t that…” you squinted a bit, walking a few steps closer to get a better view. sure enough, there he was! the same black-haired amber eyed boy who you had helped last week, in another flower shop!!

“oh my god, that total traitor!!” you huffed. “i told him to come back if he needed more flowers…” you watched as he got handed a bouquet of flowers, shaking your head in disdain. when you saw him head for the exit, you immediately panicked, scrambling away from the scene and jogging the whole way back to your shop.

despite the fact that you had only seen him once, you still felt a bit of disappointment at the fact that he had gone to another flower shop, even when he’d said he would come back. maybe you scared him off?

i didn’t even say anything weird though…

your thoughts kept you quite occupied while you were preparing the shop for open, though they were a bit burdensome when you happened to prick yourself on some roses, too distracted to be paying attention to the thorns properly.

after some of the bouquet orders for the day, you flipped the sign on the door to ‘open’. you were about to go back to sulking behind the counter, but a glimpse of black hair outside caught your eye.

looking closer, you realized that it was the same boy! he was seated on his motorcycle, chatting his a blonde haired boy who you assumed was his friend.

maybe he had realized that the flowers from your shop were better!

however, your gaze narrowed when you realized that he was holding the same bouquet you had seen him with earlier, making your mood sour immediately.

was he coming here to rub it in your face or something?!

while you were busy glaring, you started to notice that his blonde haired friend was gesturing and pointing wildly towards your shop, seeming to be shouting at the black haired boy about something. while you were still a little bit sour, you began to be intrigued by what was going on, contemplating going out there to see what all the commotion was about.

the thought immediately perished as you made eye contact with the blonde, who could clearly see you staring at them through the windows of your shop. the two of you stared at each for a moment before you darted away from the glass, rushing back to behind the counter as you prayed that he didn’t actually see you, (he definitely did).

“well, whatever! i helped him out and he went to another flower shop--so what!!” you muttered to yourself, throwing your hands up. “that’s the last time i ever do a nice thing for someone!!” you grumbled, preparing the flowers for the rest of the bouquet orders you had to do.

it was a practiced routine at this point, so you were able to arrange the flowers properly without putting much thought into it, using it as busywork to take your mind off of things. you weren’t sure why you were so upset about the fact that this boy went to another flower shop, but it certainly wouldn’t help you to let it get in the way of things.

hearing the bell to the door chime, you chirped out a ‘welcome in!’ as you continued trimming and arranging flowers, being careful this time to mind the thorns so that you didn’t get pricked a second time.

“uh, hey.” the deep tone of voice immediately made you look up, feeling as if you would have snapped your neck if you looked up any faster. you shook off your nervousness, (and excitement) going back to what you were doing as you tried to look casual.

“well, you’re back. whatever you want isn’t going to be on me this time because you betrayed me.” you said cooly, a bit of a frown on your lips.

“betrayed--what? uh, anyways, i just wanted to give you these…” he cleared his throat, holding out a bouquet to you. when you finally looked up and took a good look, you noticed that the tips of his ears were red, (should you be having hope right now…? no, stop it! get a hold of yourself!). “and, uh, i got them with that flower language thing…”

“what…?” you leaned forward across the counter, inspecting the flowers in the bouquet a bit closer. “calla lilies and white camellia’s…” looking up at the boy’s embarrassed and somewhat flustered expression, you paired it with the meaning of the flowers, and…

ah…

immediately, you felt your heartbeat speed up and felt the apples of your cheeks heating up, leaning back and looking away. you fiddled with your fingers for a moment as you tried to think of something--anything, really--to say.

“i…uh…how, um, how did you come up with this…?”

“my mom said it was a good idea…” he shifted a bit, his arm still holding out the bouquet of flowers. “if you don’t want them, i can jus’ take them back-”

“no!” you grabbed the bouquet from him, smiling a bit too much, (you couldn’t help yourself though). “you’re giving them to me, so they’re mine now, right? you can’t take back a gift! and-and just hold on for a second!” you left without another moment to spare, running into the back and scrambling for a piece of paper. you picked up a nearby pen, quickly jotting down your name and number and then running back out, a big smile across your face.

“here!” the boy in front of you grabbed the slip of paper, his amber eyes examining it before he smirked a bit, showing off the sharp bits of his canines.

“(y/n), is that right?”

“yes! what’s your name?”

“baji. baji keisuke.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

bonus:

“baji-san! how did it go!?”

“i need a yakisoba right now, chifuyu…” baji grumbled, sitting on his bike and leaning back.

“did you get rejected?!” chifuyu asked, a look of grave anticipation on his face.

“no!! she thought i betrayed her flower shop because i went to another flower shop! your idea was shit!” chifuyu’s face went pale at that, his mouth hanging wide open.

“i didn’t think about that…”

“yeah, this is the last time i take advice from whatever weird manga shit you got this from.”

“...”

“i mean, she said yes, right? a win is a win!”

“...shaddup.”

(chifuyu proceeded to pay for the yakisoba outings for the next six months.)

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sass-ruby · 6 days ago

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Okay so um, I'm gonna be talking about these two episodes today! (Prepare BECAUSE OH MY GOSH.)

Alright, we'll start with the first one. Can I just say that, moon absolutely angered me so much. Moon, NO ONE IS ASKING YOU FOR AN EMOTIONAL SPEECH NOR ANYTHING. It's the fact that you COMPLETELY ignored sun, didn't even bother to check up on him, and then went to work in your lab to find a solution?? Looks like history is repeating itself. But.. why? Why is the same thing repeating again? WELL I HAVE A THEORY! Sun's gonna die, someway, somehow and that's gonna be the only way moon realizes. I think this because of solar specifically. When solar heard that moon won't check up on sun, he sounded absolutely disgusted. Keep in mind, solar lived in HIS SUN'S head. That sun ALSO had a moon, and I bet solar has watched the same exact thing happen. And what happened when solar's sun died? Solar's moon went insane! Imagine the guilt moon would feel, gut wrenching. He probably ALREADY feels guilty, but would rather let it consume him whole than to comfort sun or AT THE VERY LEAST HUG HIM

Sun was there with moon during moon's (valid) breakdown, but moon being there for sun? NOOO, OF COURSE NOT!

Also if moon's gonna start with the "I'm not good with emotions" stuff, I'll lose it. YOU HAVE PROVEN IN OTHER VIDEOS THAT YOU CAN, MOON. Neptor's funeral, OR HELL WHEN THE WHOLE FINDING OUT DAZZLE'S SECRET THING HAPPENED. He listened about every kid, comforted, reassured, he was there. Although, now he's just ignoring sun. I think it's because he's a coward. And by a coward, I mean that he's too scared he'll say something wrong or make it worse, because the word is about NEXUS, someone who moon HATES, though sun loves nexus, evil or not, he was still his brother.

Moon doesn't understand that, he's jealous most likely. It reminds me so much of when nexus wasn't insane.. he was bad talking moon, and when moon returned? Moon was bad talking nexus. Both didn't want to be like each other, they DESPISE each other, calling each other knock off's (okay, THAT PART WAS KINDA FUNNY I'M SORRY.)

But.. where is sun in all of this? He missed each one. He loved each one. He loved them. He still loves them.

But they BOTH didn't understand how their words hurt sun. They're so similar in some ways, it's absurd. AND THEY DON'T EVEN REALIZE IT. Reminds me of the song "over and over" by Rio Romeo.

If sun dying is the only way for moon to realize, I'll be willing to accept it even if it is quite sad. It's disappointing, truly.

Monty's and lunar's reaction, I expected honestly. By the way, lunar-, "he's doing worse than I thought he would be.." ARE YOU STUPID, HE JUST KILLED HIS EX BROTHER?? Didn't you go through the same damn thing too? As for monty, not even surprised one bit. He's always been like that, I never really liked him, but oh well.

And THANK YOU SOLAR FOR BEING THE ONLY SANE PERSON EXCEPT MAYBE EARTH BECAUSE GOSH THIS SHOW AIN'T FOCUSING ON SUN'S HEALTH MUCH.

The urge to b*tch slap almost everyone.

I genuinely want sun to have a breakdown, he chose moon, but moon didn't bother to even check up on him.

Gosh.

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

ANYWAYS, TODAY'S EPISODE!

Just gonna add this picture again, because why not

Wow- genuinely just wow- that was-.. wow

So dark sun DID end up doing something. I must've missed something in the past video, but interesting..

I heard a person say, I forgot who it was but that SUN was the key of this whole plan

He killed nexus, he pulled the trigger and made a choice which means.. that way other suns also made choices instead of not acting

I have NO idea how sun managed to make that happen, BUT THE THEORY MAKES SENSE

In a way, I was right- he IS trying to stop the dimensional abuse of suns by them killing their own moon, I SUCK AT EXPLAINING

if anyone can explain this theory better than me, PLEASE DO.

I felt so bad for the sun in this dimension. Poor thing. Sounded scared and terrified, while repeating "I hate you", while crying and also while bashing HIS moon's head with a barrel

I wanted to hug him QwQ poor baby.. we need a name for him

ALSO HE'S MY CHILD NOW. I'M ADOPTING HIM.

Moon tried his best to keep that sun at peace, WHICH BRINGS ME BACK TO THE SAME TOPIC, WHY DOES HE HELP EVERYONE EXCEPT HIS SUN

I get it was a different situation BUT CMON.

I suppose I already ranted enough about that part, though

I would add more but I'm INCREDIBLY tired and all.. so um yeah-

#tsams #sams #sun and moon show #fnaf #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #nexus #tsams nexus #sundrop #the sun and moon show #solstice #dark sun tsams

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furiousgoldfish · 1 year ago

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How triangulation works

Triangulation is a form of abuse, often associated with narcissistic abusers, which works in a way that gets the abuser what they want, by involving other people into the relationship. It will usually happen when you and the abuser are in some kind of conflict, and want different things; the abuser tells you what they want you to do, and you know you don't want this, so you say no, and stand your ground.

When the abuser realizes they can't persuade you, threaten you, force or pressure you into doing what they want, they go a roundabout way about it, by convincing other people to go and pressure you instead. Now how does that look like?

It can go multiple ways, they can come and cry to other people about how incredibly cruel, insensitive and selfish you are, not wanting to do this one thing to them, and how it's killing them, and ruining yours and everyone else's life. They'll often sprinkle in some lies about you, make you look cruel and twisted. They can come to your siblings, friends, relatives, family, and tell them something along the lines 'I know it's only right for them to do x, but they won't listen to me. However, they really value your opinion, and they might listen to you, please tell them to do x, it would be better for everyone.' This will make the person feel important and happy to be valued both by the abuser and you and to be given this important task of changing your mind, they'll become willing to do it. Or, if they go the crying and complaining route, the person will become annoyed that they're being vented on feel like it's your fault they're now having to deal with this. The abuser might also add imagined disasters and catastrophes that might happen, if you do as you want, and not follow their idea of how things should go.

This person, having been manipulated into thinking they're doing something good, will go and try to tell you that you're wrong for wanting to do what you want, sometimes they'll accuse you of being selfish, yell at you, defend the abuser's idea, pressure you, accuse you of being responsible for abuser's "upset" by acting this way, and will wholeheartedly try to convince you that following your own free will is a horrible, disastrous idea.

And for you, this now means you have to consider, and reconsider over and over again, if you have the right to make your own call, because now everyone in your life seems to be on the abuser's side, and insisting that what you want is stupid, selfish, inconsiderate, hurtful, wrong, potentially disastrous. This, of course, is not true, but the abusers want you in that spot, where everyone you know is against you and on their side, convincing you to just do as you're told, or else. This can sometimes create intense pressure and feeling like you're all alone in the world, like nobody cares about you, and that any decision you make will be beaten down by everyone involved. It can also make you pull down your own choices after having to consider over and over if it's possible that this choice could be selfish or in any way hurtful, and this is not how people normally make calls, it's something you do under intense pressure and scrutiny, which is there only because the abuser wanted it.

These choices can be anything from where you go to school, work, where you live, how you dress, who you date, what you buy, how to respond to others, what you do, how you act. Often they'll be about whether you give the abuser what they want from you, and whether you agree to talk to them or not. The biggest triangulations I've experienced in my life were done when I've refused to talk to the abusers, then they felt it was necessary to lie and manipulate every person I knew to pressure me into extending contact - and all of those people have been lied to, and have been brought to a heavy emotional state in order to do a crazy thing like telling someone what to do. Normally people don't do such things, they understand it's not their place to dictate someone's personal decisions, not their call to make in somebody's life.

This is partly what makes the abusers so dangerous, not only they're willing to cross that line themselves, but they're capable of making others cross it too, making their every whim seeming like a life emergency where all rules of freedom and privacy are null. This also puts you in a position where you're forced to doubt yourself, your every decision, and even your senses, to figure out if you could possibly be right, when everyone you know is telling you that you're wrong. They want you to be in that desperate mindset, doubting your own senses, memories, decisions. It's almost like a form of gaslighting, that everyone participates in.

Your choice is, of course, never wrong. You always have the freedom to make your own decisions, even if the entire world decides to attack you for it and to tell you that you're wrong. The entire shitshow is happening only because the abuser thinks what they want is more important than your free life and your quality of life, and they're willing to lie and push people into doing their bidding, just to bypass your free will. You don't have to doubt any of these decisions, because any choice you make is right, as long as you're the one who made it.

Being trapped in that space where it feels like everyone is against you, and on the abuser's side can be extremely isolating, painful and emotionally heavy. It can put you in a state where you feel abandoned and like you're wrong and evil for every decision you try to make. However, this isn't true, all of the people who are telling you that you're wrong, actually have no clue what's going on, and have been fed lies. Not that it hurts any less that they've betrayed you despite not even understanding the situation! It hurts badly. They've been naive enough to fall for a manipulation, and their moral standing weak enough to try and infringe on your freedom, and you didn't deserve that. They've aligned themselves with a person who has hurt you and is attempting to control you, and that feels terrible, like you're alone and helpless against a whole horde of people.

One thing you can do is point out how it's not their place to make this call, and ask them what they've been told in order to come and tell you something as inappropriate and hurtful like this. I can't claim it's going to work every time, but some people were taken aback when they were informed of some of the stuff the abuser just 'forgot to mention' when sending them into action. Sometimes even that won't make them back down, because it's embarrassing to accept that you've been manipulated into being someone's tool, and they'd rather insist they're completely in the right. It's a messed up game where you essentially can't win, the best you can do is stick to your decision and inform everyone who comes to pressure you, that you're not in fact, doing anything illegal and if they want to change your decision they'll have to bring out an army to force you.

Triangulation goes hand-in-hand with scapegoating, and will make you feel like a scapegoat. Even if a lot of people will fall for the abuser's manipulations, not all will, and this is not something that you'll need to endure all of your life, especially if you manage to cut contact with people who are easily manipulated – you don't owe them a presence in their life if they're aligned with an abuser. There are people out there who cannot be manipulated easily, and will stick to their morals and refuse to infringe on your freedom, even when told a bunch of lies.

#triangulation #tactics of abuse #psychological abuse #scapegoating #child abuse #emotional abuse #turning the world against you when you say no #gaslighting #convincing you that you're wrong with numbers being stacked against you #but they're fake stacked #nobody actually knows what they're doing when they're standing against you #flying monkeys

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 1 year ago

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lesson (still not) learned

part one: lesson (not) learned *** read note below wc: 2k reader: afab (i don't think i used any pronouns so i don't think its femme? just warning you just in case!!) warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT MINORS DNI!!! (detailed warnings below cut) summary: hao convinces poly!reader to help him tie up dom!hanbin when he least expects it SO. this is PART TWO to lesson (not) learned. *** it got c*mm*n*ty l*b*led (lmao i don't want them to find this one) so PLEASE if you wanna go read that one just turn off/enable your l*b*ls on your account to read it. you can always change them back lol. i might repost a version with warnings under the cut since i was stupid and forgot to. oh well. also does this need a part 3 where hao and hanbin get their revenge?? lemme know. anyway i love this one ENJOY!!

SMUT UNDER CUT MINORS DNI!! you have been warned 🚨

warnings: established poly relationship, oral m!receiving, brief mxm (oral), handjob, pussyjob, p in v intercourse— riding, orgasm denial, hanbin and hao’s wrists are tied to the bed, brattysubbyswitch!hao that attempts to dom, switch!reader that doms towards the end, dom-leaningswitch!hanbin that “subs” for most, pet names (baby, angel, honey), they talk in the third person a lot bc they’re all horny messes, obviously swearing, this is not dubcon-- hanbin loves it he just has to keep up his dom persona… also unprotected sex (be smart, stay safe or whatever). i think that should cover it?

“i’d double-knot that if i were you, angel,” hanbin suggests; a broad, cocky smile now gracing his lips. you reluctantly obey— knowing he’s right. how hao had talked you into tricking hanbin, you had no idea.

sure, the idea of tying up hanbin and using him however you liked was incredibly intriguing, but you knew the punishment for it would be more intense than you’d yet to experienced it was both terrifying and thrilling.

plus hao promised to do your laundry for a month if you helped him. so now, here you are— the element of surprise the only way you managed to secure both of hanbin’s wrists to slats in the headboard of the bed with two silk ties. you tuck the extra one you’d brought in case of an emergency under hanbin’s pillow, safely out of his reach.

“no talking,” hao barks, starting to unbutton hanbin’s jeans and pull down the zipper. you can tell that hao is doing his best to imitate how hanbin usually talks to the both if you. it’s cuter than he intended and, from the chuckle that escapes hanbin, you can tell he thinks the same.

“and no laughing,” you add, crawling over to help hao tug hanbin’s jeans down past his hips. “if binnie makes a sound, he’ll have to be punished.”

“yeah? and what will be binnie’s punishment?” hanbin asks curiously; smiling softly at you.

“he’ll find out soon,” hao answers, shimmying hanbin’s jeans and underwear down his legs and discarding them carelessly on the floor, “since he just earned one.”

“ooooh,” hanbin mocks, eyebrows raised in a challenge. though he’s pretending to be annoyed by this stunt, his cock is already hard. “i’m very scared, hyungie.”

“and another,” hao replies before spitting in his hands and wrapping them around the base of hanbin’s length— starting to gently wring them as he takes the tip into his mouth.

hanbin doesn’t react at first, but the farther hao shoves his cock down his throat, the harder it is for him to continue maintaining his composure. once hao starts sucking, the older boy taps hanbin’s hips quickly to signal you to come help him hold them down.

“don’t play with him though,” hao warns as he comes up for air. “binnie’s mine right now.”

you roll your eyes as you crawl back over, placing a hand over hanbin’s lower abdomen to keep him still for hao. the younger boy’s face is screwed up in pleasure— a rogue moan escaping him every now and then despite his best efforts to keep quiet.

it’s not long before the sight has you rubbing your thighs together— the need for friction getting the better of you. hanbin eyes you tentatively, gazing at your core as you feel yourself starting to grind into the sheets.

it’s only another minute before hanbin is cursing— warning hao that he’s about to cum. “g’nna cum, don’t stop! g’nna— NO, NO FUCK!”

hanbin lets out a frustrated cry as hao removes his length from his mouth. hao kisses each of hanbin’s thighs, laughing meanly, “should’ve kept your mouth shut, huh, binnie?”

a particular grind of your pussy against the mattress causes you to moan and hao’s eyes dart to you. his attention falls to your core— practically sticking to the mattress from all of the juice pouring out of it.

“did you like that, baby?” hao asks, lips parting as he continues to stare at your heat. “grinding your little pussy watching us?”

you bite your lip, nodding shyly as hanbin continues to seethe.

“well are you gonna keep it all to yourself or are you gonna share with the rest of us?” hao asks, prompting you to take your index and middle finger and swipe at your slick— starting to hold it out to hanbin.

“ah-ah,” hao shakes his head. “i taste first today, remember?”

you blink back at him, bringing your fingers up to hao’s lips. he takes them in his mouth; sucking them as he lets out a throaty moan. when he releases them, he licks his lips— praising, “taste so good, baby. now give hanbinnie a bite.”

you bring your fingers back to your core, coating them again and extending them to a slightly calmer hanbin. he doesn’t take them in his mouth, but he does lick them clean. “thank you, angel,” he says softly, clearly trying to get on your good side.

“my turn now?” you ask, turning to hao.

“i guess,” the older boy huffs reluctantly as you switch positions; throwing a leg around hanbin’s lap to straddle him. “gonna ride binnie?”

“i don’t think my angel is ready to take m—,” hanbin starts to tease when you hold his cock to your entrance, but as you sink down onto him, his sentence is cut short. “oh, fuuuck.”

letting yourself adjust to his size, you slowly start to bounce up and down— finding a good rhythm as hanbin’s eyes roll back at the feeling of your tight walls around him. hao strokes his cock as he watches the scene— tough guy act thrown out the window within minutes as you continue to ride hanbin.

“perfect,” hanbin pants, a light glisten of sweat starting to form on his skin. he’s getting close again as he’s already riled up from his first orgasm denial and you moan at his praise. “pussy s'perfect.”

“fuck, i wanna see binnie cum,” hao whines from beside you; his pumping of his cock getting sloppier. you shake your head at his infuriating need for constant attention. “baby, please— wanna watch binnie cum inside you.”

“are you kidding me!? this was all your idea,” you yell back at him. hanbin laughs under you and you squeeze your walls tightly to shut him up. he throws his head back in a strangled moan— tugging a little harder on his wrist constraints as his desire to get his hands on you grows even stronger.

“i know, but,” hao replies and a quick glance at him tells you he’s just as desperate as hanbin is for release. you should’ve figured hao would cave under the pressure. “binnie wants to cum so bad.”

you turn back to hanbin. he’s whimpering now; biting his lip hard to keep from coming undone. as his hips lazily trying to fuck up into you, you realize that hanbin must be enjoying this much more than he’s been letting on.

“is it good, binnie?” you ask, running your hands up his chest. hanbin nods wildly; tugging against his restraints again. “does binnie wanna cum?”

hanbin nods again— pressing his lips together to keep from answering. you remember now that hao’s rule for hanbin had been not to talk. but now that you had obviously been handed the reins by your irritatingly needy partner in crime, you were suddenly excited to switch things up and play the game your own way.

you lean forward, pressing a messy kiss to hanbin’s lips. he accepts greedily; thrusting his hips harder as your tongues fight hungrily for dominance. before anyone can win, you pull back slightly. “you can trust me, binnie. i’ll let binnie cum if he tells me he wants to cum.”

hanbin searches your eyes; so overcome with desperation that he doesn’t care whether you’re telling the truth or not. “oh my god, yes— wanna cum inside you, angel.”

his cock twitches inside you and you whimper in response. reaching your left hand out now to cup hao’s jaw beside you, you run your thumb across his cheek soothingly. “does hao wanna cum, too?”

with wide eyes, hao nods— nuzzling his cheek into your touch. “please, baby!”

“come here, then,” you instruct as hao eagerly crawls towards you— positioning himself on his knees to bring his cock more level with your mouth. you wrap your hand around the shaft and bring the tip to your lips; lapping at the head as hao’s right hand caresses your cheek carefully. taking his full length in your mouth, hao gasps when he hits the back of your throat.

the sound makes you clench around hanbin, which causes the younger boy to inadvertently buck his hips up into you. you gag a bit as hanbin cries out pitifully— his abdomen shaking a bit from the pleasurable sensation. removing hao’s cock from your mouth, you continue to pump him.

“look at binnie, honey,” you say, watching as hao directs his attention to hanbin. “this is what you wanted, hmm? to see binnie all squirming and helpless like this?”

as hao reaches his hand towards hanbin’s face, hanbin quickly understands what the older boy is asking for— taking his middle and ring fingers into his mouth. a fresh flood of desire warms your core as hanbin swirls his tongue around hao’s fingers— sucking on them until hao’s jaw drops at the sight.

“mm, binnie’s so pretty sucking my fingers while you fuck him,” hao whimpers as you pick up the pace of your hand; continuing to fuck yourself on hanbin’s cock. the two boys in front of you are starting to get messy in their need to cum. “baby’s so nice to let binnie cum. w-wanna cum, too!”

“lie down, honey,” you suggest as you watch hao’s thighs start to shake— unable to stay propped on his knees as he gets closer to his high. with a mischievous look in your eyes, you continue, “hao can cum, too.”

“hyungie, i wouldn’t do that if i were— oh fuuuuck,” hanbin starts to warn, but you cut him off by milking his dick with your walls again; an absolutely pathetic moan escaping his throat. “do whatever you want, hyung— oh my god.”

hao must not hear any of what hanbin says over the throbbing of his cock, because he collapses on his back next to the younger boy almost immediately— nearly out of his mind as he looks up at you through dark, lust-filled eyes.

“our hao doesn’t know what’s good for him, huh, angel?” hanbin whispers, smirking at you as if he thinks he’s on your team now.

he’s not.

a hard smack to the side of his ass sends him reeling; crying out at the pain that’s followed quickly by pleasure. hanbin looks up at you; bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he mewls. smiling at him innocently, you reply, “neither does binnie.”

“touch hao’s cock!!” the older boy huffs; starting to throw a tantrum at the lack of attention on him. “been so good, just wanna cum.”

hanbin starts to laugh again, but his laugh turns to a yelp at the loss of contact as you lift up off of his length. “no, no, no, nooooo,” he whines, thrusting his hips up to try to find your entrance again but you’re already climbing off him and hooking a leg around the older boy to straddle him.

“didn’t binnie hear? hao wants to cum,” you say to hanbin, nearly giggling at how angry and wet you’ve left his cock. you’re surprised when you see hanbin’s eyes water in frustration. he had apparently been holding it together on the outside this whole time far better than he was on the inside. “and hao’s been so good.”

hao hums; biting his lip in a sweet smile as you lower yourself down towards his crotch. grinding your warm, slick folds on hao’s shaft— both hanbin and hao moan at the contact. “s'amazing, baby. love it s’much, thank you."

taking each of hao’s hands in one of yours, you gently pin them above his head— holding both of his wrists in your left hand as you stealthily reach for the extra silk tie under the pillow that hanbin is resting on.

“could you cum like this, honey?” you ask hao, trying your best to keep your poker face as the veins running up his shaft tease your clit while you grind against him.

hao nods; his eyes closing from the pleasure. “please keep going, baby,” he begs as you wrap the tie around his wrists— taking advantage of his state of blissed-out state of distraction. “g’nna cum if you keep going.”

securing hao’s wrists to a slat in the headboard; you tie the second knot on the far side so its out of reach of his fingers. sitting back up straight, you continue to grind on hao’s cock; reaching over and taking hanbin’s in your hand as well.

hanbin sighs in relief, meeting your gaze. “my angel’s so smart, huh?”

you nod as your hand works the same rhythm as your core. hao hasn’t noticed the constraint on his wrists as his moaning grows even more uncontrollable. the twitching of hanbin’s cock against your palm alerts you that he, too, is dangerously close.

“fuck, g’nna cum, baby,” hao cries, only now attempting to move his arms. his brow furrows confusedly amidst the pleasure as he tugs at the silk tie holding his hands to the headboard. “what the—... mm, when did—… NO, PLEASE! BABY, PLEASE!”

just as hao is about to cum, you pull off of him and crawl back over to hanbin. he immediately begins to cry; babbling absolute nonsense in a hopeless plea to make you come back and finish him off. hanbin is concerningly silent, lips pressed together and brows knitted-- seemingly praying that he’s been nice enough to you tonight to avoid meeting the same fate as hao.

you continue to pump hanbin’s cock; speeding up the pace as he stifles his moaning.

“THIS ISN’T FUCKING FAIR!” hao wails next to hanbin—hiccupping through his tears. “this was my idea!”

“shouldn’t have pussied out so early then,” you reply with a glare, sticking your tongue out at him childishly. brushing hanbin’s bangs out of his face, you tell him sweetly, “don’t worry. binnie gets to cum.”

the younger boy’s face lights up at your words as he melts into your touch like the prettiest puppy— hao still throwing a fit to your left.

“but not yet,” you say with a wicked smile; removing your hand from around hanbin’s cock and quickly hopping off of the bed.

hanbin yelps angrily; thrashing at his wrist restraints— definitely wishing now that he hadn’t reminded you to tie a double-knot. menacingly, he growls, “get your ass back here right now.”

from the doorway, you giggle. “it’s okay— i’ll be back in a little bit! and then whoever can last the longest inside of me can go free.”

running out of the room before the boys can protest further, hanbin and hao are left lying next to each other on the bed— wrists tied up behind them to the headboard.

“you’re a fucking idiot,” hanbin huffs, kicking hao’s shin with his foot.

the older boy pouts, mumbling as the tip of his cock leaks sorrily onto his stomach:

“takes one to know one.”

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nanaminokanojo · 3 months ago

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BAD NEWS (part 66)

-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t have been more dead wrong, except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think, MAYBE you’ll be the exception…maybe not.

CHARACTERS: drummer!geto suguru x you/afab reader | gojo satoru | various jjk characters

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 66 next>>

A/N: Prose after the 6th panel.

Suguru loved the view of you before him, your hair disheveled, tangled with his fingers, eyes hazy and watery at the corners, skin tinged with roses wherever he touched. He particularly loved how swollen your lips were from his kisses that made you all incoherent, your lipgloss smudged on both of your skin and his.

He never understood how you conjured up the thought that he would find you repulsive in what you referred to as your "worst" state. You've always been so well put together, and though he absolutely appreciate your efforts at achieving that, he couldn't help but want to reach out and mess it up. Suguru has always liked you without the embellishments – no makeup, just your bare face, the way you would tie your hair back messily, in your favorite, tatty soccer jersey and sweats and those skimpy things you called pajamas. He particularly liked it when you just woke up or when you're all prepped for bed, and when you're on the field kicking a muddy ball without a care in the world about how you looked. He loved that version of you the most, just you, bare and just his cute kitten, effortlessly beautiful.

And now that you sat on his lap with your perfect little black dress wrinkled, straps down on your shoulders, you still managed to look like you're another type of higher being altogether. He itched to pick up his camera and take pictures of you in this state or create sketches of you, feel how it is to create an iteration – his – of you beyond just touching you physically. Suguru wanted to own all your lines and curves, make them come alive with his very hands.

"Come home with me," he whispered against your lips, every fiber of his being drunk on you. He didn't even know what to expect when he was losing it just making out with you in the backseat of his car, but he wasn't going to do anything more to you in that setting. It would be such a disrespect to your person. He didn't want that. "Please, kitten?"

Instead of a response, he heard you giggle before gently pulling at his equally messed up hair. Suguru was met with a devious smirk as you shook your head at him.

He pouted, making you giggle. "Why not?" he whined, but continued placing kisses from your neck down to your shoulders, a hand giving one of your breasts a tentative squeeze before he was attacking you with more kisses all over your chest just above the low neckline of your dress. "Please?" he said again in muffled tones.

You were starting to give in, he knew that with the sultry moan you let out as you ground your hips against him. "Not today, Suguru. I have practice in the morning and I promised to hang out with Kuna after."

Unable to help it, he made a face, snorting. The idea of you being with Sukuna made his blood simmer. Then again, how will he stop you when he hadn't staked his claim on you, or rather, lacked the courage to do so? Still, he allowed himself to sulk openly over the fact.

"What?" you teased, holding his face between your hands and squeezing. He saw annoyance cross your features for a second when he didn't say a word before your left brow rose in challenge. "You have anything against that?"

"No," was his response, sounding petulant in a single syllable much to his disappointment in himself and his exasperation over the cheeky grin you had swathed on your face.

"Jealous?"

Suguru rolled his eyes at you. He could easily counter that by responding the way you least expect it, but it was too much of a trouble if you start misunderstanding things again. "You can't get out of it?" he said, ignoring your question.

"I already said yes."

"Fine."

"Sulking now?" you stated as you got off of him, imitating his tone earlier, but his grip on your hips tightened. It looks like the tables have turned.

Suguru nodded, sighing. "You're right." He straightened up on the seat, cupping your face gently. "Stay a bit longer then?" His head fell on your shoulder as he breathed out slowly. "I just wanna spend time with you."

He felt your fingers on his ear, lightly touching the piercings there. "Sure. We can always hang out after. It's not like I'm going somewhere far."

You might, he thought. You did it before, you can do it again. And this time, it might not be a place but a person by which instance, he will not be able to reach you and be with you as freely as he could now.

He wasn't having that.

TAG LIST: @lilc77 @lavender-hvze @maya-maya-56 @kibananya @nerdisthenewcool @darkstarlight82 @lysaray @ti-mame @ri-sa20 @diogodxlot @sugurubabe @guacam011y @yeehawslap @luvvmae @s-j320 @ichorstainedskin @iaminyourfloors @tanchosanke @hellyyy06 @tacobellfreshavocado @mrs-monkey-d-luffy @iluv-ace @satoryaa @clxvrs @saccharine-nectarine

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

#geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #sukuna #jjk smut #jjk smau #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen smau

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moth-related-inquiries · 10 months ago

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Micah Bell and Fem! Child! Reader: Eat Your Young

Warnings: Micah Bell, spoilers for red dead redemption two, use of guns, Micah Bell, Reader is an oddball, Micah Bell, sorry for weird formatting

A story in which Micah Bell can't seem to get a thorn out of his side, so he decides to work with what he's got.

When people think of Micah Bell, they certainly don't think of him as a family man. If anything, people think of the opposite. They're right in that assumption by all means, considering Micah's proud mattra of 'The Strong Will Survive and The Meek Will Die.' Yet, here he is, stuck babysitting some little runt they picked up back in Blackwater.

At first, he didn't mind it much. Every Tuesday, usually around the afternoon, you would walk over and sit next to him. No matter where he was, what he was doing, or who he was with, you'd always come sit next to him and just watch him. It was weird, but he didn't mess with it since you'd do the same thing to other members in camp.

Things only became a problem for him when you started following him everywhere. Whether he was going to the general store or out robbing some unfortunate folk, you'd always be in his shadow in some form or fashion. You really began to get on his nerves when you outright started talking to him, so, naturally, he told you to get lost.

You didn't listen one bit. In fact, you started accompanying him even more. It happened so much that Dutch appointed him as your babysitter. It was a stupid idea, but he accepted it in favor of keeping the peace with Dutch. He'd let you talk your little heart out, though occasionally he'd add a rude remark, and you'd either choose to ignore his words or misinterpret them entirely. It only began to grow unbearable when you started developing a snarky personality.

For a full week, he considered dropping you off in some random location. Hell, he thought about leaving you up in the snowy mountains of Colter. Anything to get this thorn out of his side. But, try as he might, he couldn't do it. He'd hoist you up on his horse, take you to some small town far away from camp, and try to leave you somewhere. Every single time you'd always end up giving him this dramatic look that would either stop him in his tracks or convince him to just turn around and take you back to camp. Your eyelids would visibly droop, your lips would pull out as if you were pouting, and your eyebrows would slant like some sad clown. He didn't know what that look meant, but it always reminded him of a scorned dog. All he knew is that he hated it and wanted it to stop.

After you finished your spectacle, he'd ride back to camp with you in front of him, scowling like he'd just been dealt a bad hand. Confused and angry thoughts would race through his mind like a stampede of bulls, knocking everything about in a hurried frenzy. He considered just throwing you off of his horse and galloping away, but some weak part of him held him back. Oh, how he loathes it. Now, here he is, stuck babysitting you, yet again. This time the two of you are riding through a new town: Strawberry. You look mildly interested, which oddly pleases Micah, and he decides then and there that, if you're going to stick around, then you're at least going to be useful.

"Hey, Kid." Micah spoke up from behind you, slowing Baylock to a smooth canter. "Your daddy ever teach you how to shoot?" He asked gruffly. He knew fully well that nobody had taught you how to shoot. It wasn't because you were a kid, but because you weren't taught at ALL. Over the last few weeks, many of which were spent being annoyed by you, Micah actually learned quite a bit about you. He learned it not from you directly, of course, but from others in camp.

When they first picked you up, Dutch made it a priority among the members to see what you know and what you can do. The first person to approach you was Susan, who bombarded you with questions about hygiene, self care, and your choice in fashion. She was utterly astonished by your lack of cleanliness, considering that all of the younger women she'd met knew fully well how important it was to be properly washed. Whether it be with mud, Pearson's stew, or a concotion of both, You frequently ripped the dresses she'd bought for you, further proving to her that you'd simply never been accustomed a life of properness.

The second person to approach you was Javier, who had approached you one bright morning asking if you'd like to go fishing with him. You agreed, and he brought you out to his spot. It took him only twenty minutes to realize that not only did you not know what a fishing pole was, you also didn't know anything about proper fishing. He gave up halfway when you purposefully chucked your fishing pole into the water just to retrieve the fish with your bare hands. Though he felt guilty about it, he decided it'd probably be best to let someone else help. Javier then decided to refer you to the second best man he knew: Arthur Morgan.

Arthur, being incredibly helpful with little Jack on many occasions, was expected to be the one to finally get across with you. And he did, for a short while at least. He'd often take you out to nearby towns and explained all of the occupations, what they did, and who went there. It was one of your favorite activities until the pair of you were approached by O'Driscolls in broad daylight. Arthur stood in front of you, prepared to protect you with everything he had. As he was trying to diffuse the situation, you slipped from behind him and ran away. Nearly an hour later, he found you hiding in a tight crevice below the beams of the railroad tracks. Arthur never brought you out of camp again.

After hearing about these countless misshaps, Micah was hesitant to take you anywhere. However, Dutch insisted that if he took you places every now and then, you'd eventually stop being so clingy. "No." you stated plainly, eyes trained on a distant river. Your eyes only moved when Micah placed you down on the ground, and hoisted himself off of his horse. "Well, I'm gonna teach you then. Come on." He hitched his horse on a post, and walked up to the gunsmith. He didn't bother looking back to see if you followed him.

The door swung open with a loud creak, alerting the gunsmith, an older balding gentleman, to their presence. "Ah, what can I do for you, mister?" He greeted Micah cheerfully, not noticing the small child behind him. "Oh, just looking to buy a nice gun for the kid, here." He grinned eerily, pulling you forward to present you to the Gunsmith. To anybody but himself, this venture would probably just seem like a strangely sweet gesture. Micah thought differently, though. If you were truly utterly horrible at everything else in life, that meant that HE could teach you without any prior restrictions. He could mold you into the perfect accomplice for his crimes.

"That's.. good. Uh, what are you looking for?" The older gentleman asked, pushing a book towards the two. Micah leaned forward and flipped the pages until he landed on the 'Double-Action Revolver.' He pointed at it in the book and placed his hand on your shoulder. His voice turned sickeningly sweet as he looked down at you, basically hugging your shoulder. "That one look good, kiddo?" He grinned, gently shaking your shoulder. You stared down at it, then up at Micah. He didn't wait for your permission and quickly stood up straight. "Get me one D.D Packenbush. Oh, and some revolver ammo, too." he demanded, immediately pulling out a wad of cash.

The Gunsmith shrugged and gathered the items in their own unique cases, then they exchanged items. Micah quickly ushered you out of the Gunsmith's and back onto his horse. Once the two of you cantered a safe distance away, Baylock broke into a trot. Micah reached into his saddlebag and pulled out your new toy and its ammo. "Here," he held out the revolver for you to take, "hold it and feel the weight of it." You stared down at the grip of the revolver and hesitantly grabbed it. It immediatly weighed down in your hand, but you managed to gain control. Baylock slowed down completely, and you found yourself in Tall Trees.

Micah hoisted you down and quickly jumped off of Baylock. "Grab this and load the revolver," He demanded, "I'm gonna find you somethin' to shoot." And that he did. Micah weirdly felt excited in this moment. It was just like when his dad taught him and Amos how to shoot. You looked a little confused at first, even afraid, but you opened the ammo box anyways. For a moment you just stood there staring at the box, unsure of what to do. You seemed like the kind of kid to learn best on your own, so he just stood there and waited for you to figure it. Eventually, you managed to pry open the cylinder and load up the bullets.

As you figured out how to cock the gun, Micah took the chance to set up a few empty bottles. "You got it all loaded up? Good. Show me what you've got then." He demanded. He rested on a nearby tree, purposefully too close to the bottles. You were, predictably, going to miss every single bottle. He knew that for certain. However, he wondered if you'd end up trying to hit him. "Okay." You stated blankly, and pointed it in the vague direction of the bottles. You shut one eye and fired, only for the kickback to startle you into nearly falling over. Micah chuckled lowly, but he didn't say anything.

After a couple more missed shots, you did something he didn't expect. You lowered your stance and stood there awkwardly staring at the bottles. Your shoulders tensed and you leaned down, grabbed a rock, and chucked it full force at one of the bottles. He was shocked when he realized that you finally lost your cool, and in doing so you actually hit one of the bottles. "You getting mad, girl? Good. Use that. Maybe you'll actually shoot somethin this time." He cackled, hoping to further anger you. It seemed to work since you huffed loudly and fixed your stance. This time you aimed the revolver at him, catching him off guard, and fired.

A crack sounded out through the air, causing Micah to flinch. You fired at him. You actually fired at him. And missed. At first he was enraged. He thought about whipping out his revolvers and ending your life right there. Yet, he had an epiphany. You understood his way of life. You understood that the weak deserve to die. That, if he leaves himself so vulnerable to attack, he should die. And yet you spared him just to show him that you'd be willing to kill him. He laughed, sounding low and sinister. A sense of pride bloom in his chest and he nearly sprinted over to you.

"You're a shit shot but... you've got potential girly. Reeeeal potential." He grinned, realizing just why he couldn't let you go. Maybe, just maybe, he could treat you like his own kid for once, and continue the Bell family name. That'd be a nice thought.

"Say, you ever been robbing before?”

A/N: Don't know why I made this, honestly. But I made it, and I like it. I really hate Micah, and I'm glad he's dead, but idk.

#micah bell #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x reader #child reader

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