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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 10 months ago

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Hello!! May I request headcanons for Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Kafka, March, Silver Wolf and Welt with a normally quiet and meek reader who very quickly turns no-nonsense and aggressive when fighting, and will use anything and everything they can get their hands on as (improvised) weapons?

Ebon Deer keeps reviving and healing? Get a bunch of alcoholic liquids, turn them into Molotovs and get ready to commit arson.

Trying to raid a Sanctus Medicus hideout? Get a crowbar and pry that door open. Keep it on your person as a bludgeon.

Heliobi outbreak? Get something you can smack them around with (hammer, bamboo stick, whatever causes pain) and slap one of Huohuo's paper talismans on it.

Dealing with Sampo? Pepper spray. Easy. Hot sauce and/or raw pepper juice also work.

And if the opposition turns out to be less capable and far more helpless but they're still struggling, just slapping them across the face and knocking them to the ground (almost) always works.

Things reader has also used as weapons, including but definitely not limited to:

That backscratcher nabbed from Sanctus Medicus

Broken wine bottle

Shoe

Scarf (for strangulation)

Wrench

Pipe

Foldable chair like in IWE (Interastral Wrestling Entertainment; don't question this one, I just made it up on the spot)

Electrical circuits

Coffee mug

Pencil

Firecrackers

Diting

Pray for the enemy if reader can use computers and the battle zone is somewhere with a lot of technology and automatons; reader may just find and hack into a terminal and turn the whole environment against them

Someone: "How do you know how to—"

Reader: "I grew up in a bad neighborhood."

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like the headcanons!

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Characters: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Kafka, March, Silver Wolf, and Welt Yang x gn! Reader

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You, someone who is normally very shy, go completely no-nonsense during fights, reaching for anything near you to use as an improvised weapon. What do the characters think of your unique battle strategies?

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Blade thinks you’re wonderful. When he first met you, he wasn’t so sure since you were so quiet but as soon as he saw you fighting, he knew you were far more complex that he had given you credit for.

His personal favourite improvised weapon of yours was the broken wine bottle. He thought it was classy. However, he was also rather fond of you simply slapping and enemy and knocking them out.

He’s definitely got the backing to make technology a permanent feature of your fighting style but then he wouldn’t be able to see the improvised weapons and that would be a true shame…

He might hold off on that for now. After all, who is he to stand between you and a box of firecrackers that just happen to be nearby? He’s just dying to know how this will end.

Why? Why does he always get partnered up with people who go crazy in battle? And why did he have to fall for this one?

Dan Heng does have to admit he admires your creativity at times though. The coffee mug attack was particularly inspired: it just would have been better if it wasn’t his mug and if there wasn’t coffee inside.

He finds your personality switch fascinating. One minute you can be timid and too nervous to ask for a napkin from a waiter, the next, you’re leaping into battle with no inhibitions.

He thinks your computer skills are quite impressive as well. He’ll find a way of incorporating those skills into every battle you encounter, if only so you stop using anything you can get your hands on as a substitute weapon.

Gepard is torn on this one. Sure, he’s glad you can defend yourself anytime and anywhere. But those improvised weapons are likely to injure you as well as your enemy and that just won’t do.

Oh, he was cheering you on when you used pepper spray on Sampo. Those two have an…interesting relationship in my mind so while Gepard was concerned about any permanent damage, he certainly wasn’t about to stop you.

He likes that you’re not always a chaotic as you are in battle though. He already has to deal with a lot of over-the-top people because of his work. Your quiet nature is a nice change of pace.

I can see him trying to keep you out of harms way a lot, in part to keep you safe, and in part to keep everyone else safe as well. Sure, they might be enemies, but they deserve some mercy…

Ooh, you’re an interesting one aren’t you? Jing Yuan thinks you’re a wonderful addition to any fight. Something interesting is always bound to happen when you’re around.

He’s so used to people around him fighting with the same weapons in the same way every time they fight that your fighting style is a breath of fresh air.

His favourite improvised weapon was probably the scarf since he probably gave that particular item of clothing to you after he had to leave for a while.

Despite what anyone else might think, he saw it as a bonding experience for the two of you. You used a gift of his to take down your enemy? How romantic!

Kafka knows you’re one to look out for. She’s glad you’re on her side at the moment but should anything happen between you, she knows she’d have to watch her back every moment of the day.

I see Kafka as someone who likes control and, while she has that when you’re calm and quiet, once you get into a fight, all semblance of control goes out the window. Nothing can hold you back now.

She was particularly fond of the shoe incident and made sure to grab the shoe after the battle was done as a memento. Now, she has it tucked away as a reminder of your strength.

Much like Blade, Kafka has the resources to supply you with technology so you can use it in every battle you fight. She likes to think this will give her some amount of control back but isn’t hopeful. She knows what you’re like when a battle’s upon you.

If there’s anyone here who is likely to match your energy in battle, it’s March. Sure, she takes it seriously, but she’s gotta have some fun with it too!

The first time she saw your personality shift from shy to no-nonsense, she was delighted. Finally, someone she can goof around with who can also stand their ground in a fight.

For her favourite improvised weapon, it’s the folding chair through and through. She thought it was so smooth the way you calmly stood up, folded the chair and swung it at your enemy.

I think March would like to try and learn from and copy your techniques to see if they’d work for her fighting style. Sure, she has her normal weapons, but it can’t hurt to branch out once in a while.

Silver Wolf loves going on missions with you! Not only does she get to hang out with her favourite person in the world, she also gets to finally have some fun.

Sure, Kafka lets her get away with some entertainment but she’s also pretty strict about keeping a low profile. With you around, there’s no chance of staying stealthy once things start heating up.

She’s also so glad there’s someone else on the team who has good computer skills. She’ll lend you any equipment she doesn’t have an immediate use for and make you some equipment of your own as well.

Of course, her favourite improvised weapon was the electrical wire. An enemy had broken some of your equipment but that didn’t mean you weren’t able to use it anymore.

He’s so tired. He thought you were going to be a nice quiet addition to the otherwise chaotic team of the Star Rail, but no. You just had to have a chaotic side to you.

Of course, this doesn’t mean he cares about you any less. He just worries when a fight stars and he sees you inching towards the nearest object, whatever it may be.

He is glad you can defend yourself though. It’s important that people can fight with things other than their usual weapons and he supposes if he had to chose one, he’s glad you’re adaptable, if nothing else.

I don’t think he would have a favourite improvised weapon but the ones that surprised him most were the pencil and the backscratcher. Both of those occasions took him a moment to process.

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bruh-myguy-what · 8 months ago

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Hello! Could I possibly ask for a Echo/reader (Gn)

Setting could be 79’s maybe some angst with someone calling out echos “missing parts” after he rejects their advancements, and he feels a bit dejected about it. The reader (after insulting the other person) would take him back to the Marauder and comforts him (it can be smut or fluff either is fine)

Thank you! Have a nice day <3

He's More Than That***

Pairing: Echo x GN!Reader Warnings: Smut (my first so you must forgive any issues), Twi'lek woman being mean to our beautiful cyber-clone, cursing, filthy nonsense at some point, oral (Echo receiving), intercourse/sex, fluff Word Count: 5K Summary: Hunter, Wrecker and Echo waned a temporary reprieve from their constant stay in the Mauarder and decided you should be their babysitter for the night at 79's. Reluctantly you join and overhear a conversation Echo had with a Twi'lek who doesn't seem to take being rejected by him very well. After defending him and convincing him he deserves more, he shows you exactly what you deserve from him. A/N: When you requested this, anon I absolutely had just admitted- the same day!- that I was basically now an Echo girlie. I hadn't ever really noticed how adorable he was or how much I actually loved him until after the finale. Like I've always loved him, but I was never a girlie until now and now I simp. Also, I've never really written GN or smut so the two together really threw me for a loop lol so I hope this is alright for you! I do really appreciate you sending in a request, feel free to send in whenever you'd like!

Requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send in!

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The atmosphere of 79's was as smoky and dingy as ever, the blue/green lights of the neons hanging around illuminating faces and bodies as they moved about the bar. It hadn't been your idea to be here tonight, usually opting to stay back on the Marauder with Tech and Crosshair for the sake of serenity, but when the other three boys begged you to come along so that they have a designated babysitter who wouldn't get wasted, you couldn't deny them. Hunter wanted to get away from the ship to what he labeled "loosen up" which you knew meant he needed to get laid before the stress made him strangle his brothers. Wrecker wanted to drink some regs under the table and joke about how 99 was better in every aspect while listening to good music.

Echo, on the other hand, didn't give you a reason why he decided to join in on the outing. It wasn't his usual scene. Not anymore, anyway. As far as you were aware he also preferred the relaxed atmosphere of the ship; the two of you spending your time playing a game or watching a bad holomovie you'd downloaded on one of the datapads the Batch kept aboard for entertainment. It wasn't really like him to want to drink all that much, not since he joined Clone Force 99. He'd told you a few stories of him and his twin, Fives, trying to pick up a few women here and there while hanging around the clone bar back in the day but you never thought you'd actually see him here.

You peeked to the corner of the club, seeing Hunter cozied up with a pretty green Twi'lek woman- her legs draping over his lap as he kissed along her neck. At least he'd be less snappy on your next mission. Then you heard Wrecker laughing boisterously over the music as some reg tapped out, his squad mates dragging him away from the table. He'd be content too and it's almost as if you could already hear him hollering at Crosshair to regale his win over the regs. Resting your eyes back on the pale clone sitting at the bar independently, you watched from across the hazy atmosphere wondering if you should approach him or leave him to his thoughts.

You and Echo had a relatively close relationship. His reserved yet courageous demeanor was always something you had admired about him, and whenever he'd joined 99, you were among the first to buddy up with him. You knew exactly how it'd felt not to be "one of the brothers", even with how close you'd become with the Batch. So, it seemed easy for the two of you to cling to that shared understanding. You felt a smile reaching your lips at some of the memories you'd shared with Echo, a familiar ache settling in your chest and you determined that joining him at the bar was the best idea- even if not for him, but for yourself.

You made sure to clock him in the spot he was settled in before tearing your eyes away and descending the stairs to the main floor, losing sight of him through the dense crowd. Weaving through, apologizing to a few couples who were dancing or going about their "business" on the floor, you managed to emerge from the mass of people to find an empty bar stool- entirely devoid of your companion.

"What the-" you muttered to yourself under the loud music, "He was just here." Swiping a glance up and down the span of the bar, the friendly sight of a pale clone adorned by blue neons captured your attention. He seemed to be speaking to someone, though you couldn't quite see who it was from your current position so you stepped up closer to casually join the conversation when you overheard Echo decline whatever they had offered.

Curiosity got the better of you and instead of being a good friend, leaving the man alone to hopefully find some solace for the night, you stood just close enough to eavesdrop a little more. "I appreciate the sentiment, and you're stunning, don't get me wrong." His voice was as sweet as ever, a little solemn you could tell, but only if you knew him well enough.

Was she really all that pretty? Were Twi'leks the type of person Echo was into? Against your better judgment, you leaned forward onto the bar to glimpse the woman he had complimented, and your heart sank at how her pretty eyes glimmered against the neon lights.

Then you heard her laughter. It sounded as if she were laughing… at him. "Oh, honey," her accented voice cut through the music with its patronizing tone. "You can't honestly be refusing me when you look like," and you watched as her pretty eyes scanned the clone before her, gesturing lazily with her manicured hand, "that."

Maybe you'd heard her wrong. You'd definitely heard her wrong… right? There was no way in the galaxy that she was insulting him about his looks just because he told her no… right?

Echo stammered in shock, momentarily caught off-guard by her comment. It wasn't as if he'd not been used to people making remarks about his… unmistakable condition. He just hadn't anticipated the Twi'lek to be so hostile at his decline. "Well, I-"

"I mean, seriously? Look at you, you're a mangled mess." She let out an irked breath as if she were, suddenly, too good for the current conversation. You noticed her lean away from Echo, surveying the rest of the room full of clones, "I bet you don't even have all of the right parts to please anyone anymore, do you droid?" The Twi'lek's snide grin as she huffed out another laugh made your blood boil.

Droid?

Did she actually have the audacity to call a man of war, who kept her safe from the rising Separatist threats, a droid? She couldn't even begin to understand the horrors of war Echo had seen.

You heard a disparaging laugh bubble up from your friend, noting how his shoulders sank only a fraction, head inclining to the cup in his hand. His back had been facing you, turned completely to the attention of the Twi'lek in front of him, so you couldn't entirely make out his expression- though you'd felt as if you'd known him well enough to imagine the rueful smile etching his features about now. "Ah, yeah," he breathed with a soft, somber chuckle, "I guess I am a freak at this point, eh?"

"It isn't about that anyway," you finally chimed over his shoulder.

Echo's eyes widened at your raised voice, his hurried voice muttering your name in surprise. "What are you doing?" His brown eyes glanced between you and the Twi'lek nervously as you walked around to place yourself between the two of them.

"I don't think he'd have trouble pleasing anyone that had the decency to see past a few war scars. But clearly, that isn't you, you'd only be a waste of his time." The knuckles of your fingers began to ache because of your clenched fists and only at Echo's gentle touch did you relax.

The soft voice you'd come to rely on whispered past the music into your ear, "Cyare, please, it's not that big of a deal, really." Though his tone was even you could tell he'd been embarrassed that you'd overheard the conversation.

"It is though, Echo. You don't deserve to be spoken to that way just because you don't want to whore around for the night." You defended sharply, throwing a look back at him then quickly pinning the Twi'lek to her spot once more. "He has plenty of satisfying features, I'll have you know. He's funny, loyal, protective. He loves his brothers fiercely. He doesn't shy away in the face of danger. He's the first to answer when help is needed, he's reliable, and a wonderful man who deserves more than what most people give him."

Condescending giggles rippled over her pink lips as she covered them, a manner of mischievous glee sparkling in her eyes as she watched the protective display. "You defend him as if you two fuck."

A burn crept up your neck and into your cheeks at the allegation but you couldn't slow your words quickly enough before you said, "I'd be damn lucky if we did."

Echo's grip on your arm flexed at your statement, tentatively pulling you back toward him to de-escalate the rising frustration in you. "Cyare, maybe that's enough." He whispered again.

"You two are cute. No wonder he didn't want to sleep with me. Whatever," the Twi'lek waved you off noncommittally, then pushed herself off of the bar. "There are other handsome men around who need my attention." And with a subtle flip of her lekku, she merged with the swaying crowd.

Frustration simmered beneath your surface as you watched her disappear, more nasty remarks popping into your mind after the confrontation was over. "Stupid, nasty-"

"Cyar'ika," Echo's warm voice broke your hostility, his fingers raising your chin to meet his eyes, "what was all that about?" The pale brown hues narrowed in concern as if you had just been in a serious altercation on his behalf and were injured in some way. "It's not like that doesn't happen all the time, what with the regs calling us defective," his laughter dying as he noticed your soured expression.

You crossed your arms over your chest indignantly, "Just because people insult you, Echo, doesn't mean it's okay. You don't deserve to be treated that way. By anyone." The reassuring brush of his hand- passing from your chin to your shoulder- made you even more upset as if he were okay with being so dehumanized by someone. You pushed his hand away, not because you were offended by his touch- far from it- but because you needed him to take your words to heart. "And stop with the Mando'a, you know I don't understand what you're saying. I'm being serious right now, ya know? You're not a droid. You're you. You're Echo."

The slight tilt of his head made your heart lock up as he smiled at you. He didn't say anything, he just stood there, the pale brown of his eyes highlighted by greens and blues from the bar. It was something you two often did, communicate with just a few looks, something that Crosshair had hissed and griped about, witnessing it on multiple occasions. As the two of you stood there silently for a moment, you began to notice his smile shift and the color of his cheeks showed a little darker. "A-About what you said to her-"

Your entire world came raging back, the music suddenly too loud for you to think properly. "O-Oh right! The...uh-"

"F-Feeling lucky if the two of us-"

You hummed in agreement, with his sentence, not your earlier sentiment. Not that if you thought about it long enough you would've disagreed with your truthfulness brought on by impulse. In fact, you had thought about it quite a lot since meeting the Arc Trooper. You couldn't help yourself, really… he was quite literally amazing at nearly everything he did. He was fluid on the battlefield, quick to make decisions, soft, and compassionate when someone needed comforting. He walked around as if the horrors of his dreams didn't haunt him, opting instead to care even more for those around him. Echo was a man of honor and you marveled at how he carries himself. Not to mention being in close quarters with him, or any of the Batch really, only heightened your ever-growing desire toward him. It was practically inescapable to see someone either in their blacks, partially dressed, or completely naked while on the Marauder. You had seen Hunter and Wrecker shirtless on more than a few occasions and even once seen Tech remove his blacks to use the fresher, and nothing was really wrong with any of those instances. Though the one that lingered in your mind, that just kept nagging at you when you were particularly desperate to reach out and have his pale hand touch you, was when you'd walked in on Echo after he'd finished in the sonic. You thought Crosshair had been the last one to use the fresher and hadn't seen anyone else take a turn, but when you pressed the button revealing the cybernetic clone with just a towel hanging around his waist you froze. You could've acted normal about it, muttering an apology and turning around but you'd only stood there floundering.

And that was how you reacted in this very same instance- dumbstruck and speechless- as your cheeks and ears burned desperately.

Clearing his throat, jolting your attention back to his face, Echo rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "Well, we can just forget about it. I'm sure it seriously threw her off when you said that, so that was a good tactic." He joked kindheartedly, eyes closing in that familiar charming, laid-back smile of his.

He honestly thought you were joking. Or just trying to defend him by saying anything that sounded good.

Maybe that was okay.

Maybe you could get away with not making anything awkward between the two of you. Maybe he saw how anxiously you reacted when he brought it back up and was gracious enough to drop it for your sake.

But was that fair?...

He deserved to know how handsome he was, just as much as any of his brothers- 99 or otherwise.

"Besides, like she said- whether it was meant as an insult or not- I'm a mangled mess. We can't have you wasting your good looks on me, now can we?" Echo tapped the tip of your chin with his hand gently, winking mirthfully at you.

He was being serious.

He didn't have any clue how desperate you were some nights to call out to him. Echo genuinely thought he was unwanted and he harbored it like a man devised for loneliness.

Never reciprocating his humor or obliging him in his self-deprecation, you remained stern, eyes locked with his handsome pale face. "I would fuck you right now in the middle of 79's if I knew we wouldn't get banned from the only clone bar on Coruscant."

Disbelief filled the clone's expression, eyes dilated to the size of Tech's goggles, his cheeks flushing a red bright enough to rival the neon lights. It was a terrifying leap to take, conveying these tight-lipped secrets you'd been carefully preserving but if it made Echo understand that he was just as desirable as any other man- clone, Jedi, or otherwise- then you'd shout it at every single person in the bar tonight. Your name fell from his lips in an airy exhale, frantically his eyes searched for any sign of banter or sarcasm but he was only met with decisiveness in your returning stare. "You..." he breathed again, deliberately slowing his racing heart, "You're being serious." At your resolute nod, brows furrowed and eyes stern, Echo looked down at himself critically. "B-But, I-"

"Do I need to prove it to you?" you provoked.

Echo's bewildered stare snapped back to your face, brows raised high in astonishment. "Pro-Prove it?"

Again you nodded with resolve. "You deserve it just as much as Hunter. I'll prove it to you right-" and before you could finish your sentence you were yanked forward away from the bar, weaving through the crowd. Echo's pale hand gripping your upper arm tightly enough not to lose you amongst the moving bodies. Confused but curious, you followed his lead.

Pulled to one of the single restrooms you felt yourself being slung inside, Echo behind you now, locking the door. The dingy lights were also a staple in the small room, the most of the illumination coming from the neon lights outside the high window. "Echo, what in the galaxy-"

"Say it again." His voice rushed as you turned to meet his urgent but dangerously narrowed eyes, the low tone startling you.

You knew he was referring to what you had said by the bar, but which part, in particular, left you timid to respond. "Say what again?" You finally managed, anxiously fiddling with a loose string on your pants.

The clone across the room looked positively possessed as he took only a single step toward you. "Tell me you want me." Echo pressed, the gravel to his voice making you shiver. "Please," his whispered demand nearly lost to the bass rumbling the walls.

This was certainly not where you had envisioned the night to go when you agreed to come out with your squad mates, but as you took a breath, you dove right into the dream. "I want you, Echo." And with the speed of an Arc Trooper, the man descended on you, pressing you into the wall. His body crowded around you, leaving no room to breathe in anything but him as his lips furiously pursued yours. Though he seemed desperate in his actions, there was a hesitation you felt in him. He was leaning against the wall by his arms, keeping himself just a hair's breadth away, afraid to touch you. Pulling back enough to speak against his lips, your hand found his cheek. "Touch me, Echo, please," your own plea a whisper.

His breath shook against your mouth as he faltered, "I-I'm afraid of ruining this…" His sincerity was the fear of a desolate man. "It's been so long… way before I looked-"

Reaching up beside you where his arms lay against the wall, gently guiding his hand and scomp-link to your body. "You can't ruin anything for me, I promise. I've been wanting this for so long, just touch me." A breathy exhale that sounded like a soft chuckle washed over your face at himself and to keep him from overthinking anymore you surged forward to press yourself against him fully- lips connecting.

The kiss you shared this time, was less desperate and hasty, instead imbued with passion and certainty as your tongue came out to greet his bottom lip. Mandalorian curses escaped under Echo's breath, voice trembling as he did, welcoming the dance you challenged. "I can't believe you want me… How could you want me?" Disbelief greeted you as you kissed him again trying somehow to get your affections across.

"How could I not?" Your simple reply caused him to look at you squarely, again searching your face as if he could find some hint of sarcasm or deception- but he found none. With a warm smile, you started unstrapping your armored chest piece and undressing from your standard issue GAR clothes. "Like I told the Twi'lek," you started as you set the clothes on a bar beside you, trying to maintain your composure with intense brown eyes observing you eagerly. "You're loyal, and kind. Funny as hell, adorable when you get embarrassed, charming when you aren't feeling too tired to banter around with me or your brothers," the last one made him chuckle a bit but it died off when the last of your clothes fell away and you stepped back up to him. "And no matter what's going on down here," you glanced down to where his codpiece sat, "I know you'll satisfy me completely."

"Kriff..." Echo stammered softly at the warmth of your hands reaching to unclasp his armor, a questioning look in your eyes. He grinned timidly, "I didn't think at this point you'd even feel the need to ask, cyare," to which you went at undressing him, yourself. Upon lowering yourself to the floor to undress his lower half, even with him imploring you to not get on the bathroom floor for him, you marveled when his blacks were pulled past his thighs.

"Well, color me surprised," your wistful voice made the clone groan in embarrassment as he covered his mouth with his hand, looking away bashfully. "Looks like you won't be disappointing anyone, will you, Echo?" You teased, glancing between the adorably sheepish look on his face and the solid cock that greeted you. Nothing amiss whatsoever. How could he be so insecure when he harbored this under his blacks?

Echo shifted on his robotic legs, anxiously, "There's no need for the commentary, cyar'ika," he complained, his voice deeper than usual as he stole glances at you between his legs as if he were caught watching something he shouldn't.

Smirking, you shrugged nonchalantly up at him, "Guess I'll just have to keep my mouth busy then." Your tongue splayed out over your bottom lip to experimentally lick at the head of his cock, reveling in the shaking gasp that escaped the clone.

"Oooh, k-kriff," Echo groaned helplessly, eyes screwing shut at the feeling blitzing through him like a barrage of blaster fire. The way his husky voice stretched out your name made your body ache for his touch.

You wanted more.

All of it.

All of him.

Your tongue danced along from the base to the tip a few times, placing delicate kisses here and there over his pale skin. It was sweet, watching him enjoy himself with such a small form of affection. The way his eyes fluttered every time your tongue swiped over the tip, how his teeth found purchase on the skin of his bottom lip to keep himself from making too many sounds. "Y-You gotta stop t-teasing me, mesh'la, please..." Echo breathed desperately, hand falling to the back of your head.

"Please, what, handsome?" The naïveté in your tone betrayed the way your eyes twinkled dangerously up at him and made him groan again, hand coming around to thumb your bottom lip, mesmerized by you.

"Please suck my cock." Desire finally blossomed in his eyes, the adorable timidness dissipating and giving way to a man who hungered for more. "I want to feel your mouth around me… I've wanted that for so long."

The admission surprised you, but you couldn't focus on it for too long before you acquiesced and took his cock into your mouth as far as you could before he hit the back of your throat. Echo choked out a moan at your motion, feeling the way your mouth warmed his skin, your tongue lapping around him. "S-So long… oooh, kriff. Wanted to feel your pretty mouth suck me off."

The filth murmuring from his pale lips was only fueling your lust as you hollowed your cheeks and started to bob your head back and forth on him. "I-I can't believe this isn't one of my-my dreams, oh fuck," Echo whispered as he looked down to meet your gaze, groaning at the hazy look in your eyes and whispering an astounded 'look at you' as his hand pressed into the back of your head. His hips thrust, against his better judgment, shoving himself further into your throat provoking a moan from the both of you simultaneously. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you relaxed, allowing him to fuck into your mouth at his leisure, the sounds he makes stirring you up more.

You pull back to catch your breath, a string of drool trailing from your tongue to his soaked cock. "You've dreamed of me sucking your dick, have you?"

"I've dreamed of many sinful things concerning you, cyare." Echo's voice was solid as he pulled you up by your arm, crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. His tongue tasted yours for a moment, scomp pressing into your lower back so you were flush with him. The large expanse of his hand explored your body, mapping every scar and dip of skin to commit to his memory. "Your body is even better than I could've fantasized it; much softer, stronger." He whispered against your neck, placing warm open-mouthed kisses along it.

"Echo," you breathed out his name, his mouth dizzying you. "Show me what you've dreamed… I want to know."

The chuckle that escaped through his lips and fell over your skin sounded dangerous as if you asked him to show you his crimes. "Bend over for me then," the drawl of your name spurred a whine from you that made him grin and you spun around in his arms to place your hands steadily against the bar drilled into the wall. "Kriff, and I thought the sight of you sucking my dick was going to make me cum..." Echo muttered from behind you, his hand brushing down the curve of your spine, admiring the way goosebumps chased after his fingertips. "This view is sure to ruin me."

"Echo, please," you whined over your shoulder at him. The sudden change in power lost on you as you shifted your hips back to meet his, yearning for some sort of relief. Teasing him had done a number on both of you and you needed him to relieve you somehow.

"Looks like I can't deny how badly you want me now, can I, cyar'ika?" The cybernetic clone chuckled from behind you, leaning his tall body over your back to whisper, "Not when you beg for my dick like that." The warmth of his breath tickled the back of your neck and you moaned at the feeling. Without any more taunting, Echo finally leaned away from you to watch himself slip inside of you. "Shit… look at how you take me," he sounded nearly astonished by how his cock disappeared inside, appreciating the sight before him- second only to how you choked his dick.

"Stars, Echo," you moaned desperately, wincing at the stretch of him inside of you, panting as you took more as he pushed deeper inside. "M-More, please, fuck me Echo, please."

"Greedy, aren't you," Echo teased lightheartedly, chuckling at how you begged for him to take you. He seemed to be enjoying himself as he sank into you fully, his typical jovial attitude returning. It wasn't even as if he were teasing you in an expected sexy way. He was teasing you as if he caught you with your hand in the ration box, looking to take extras. The feeling of his cock dragging inside of you as he gradually pulled out to just the tip and then just as slowly pushed himself back in nearly made you sob at the burning fixation for him to shatter you. "I love feeling you like this. I can't believe you want this as much as I do. Kriff, you are stunning. Everything you do floors me." You continually whined his name as he spoke, moving in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace then you felt his hand brush up your back and grip your shoulder tightly as if bracing himself. "You're the reason I said no to the Twi'lek. I just want this, only this," he moaned as he pulled out one last time before stopping, whispering, "Only you," then hammering into you at a fracturing pace.

"Oh fuck, Echo!"

"That's it," Echo praised in his warm encouraging tone, your name falling from his lips like a tribute as he drives his cock into you over and over until you were almost screaming. His stamina was devastating, the force behind his thrusts calamitous as your body rocked against his. "What a breathtaking sight you are taking me like this, kriffing hells. I'm gonna cum," Echo stammered as his hips faltered narrowly.

You'd hardly been able to process anything he'd been saying, too deafened by the passion though you felt his hips shift a bit, slowing their pace and you begged, "Inside, inside please."

"Maker, y-you can't say it l-like that," Echo chided with a choked moan, "I-I," and with a shocked gasp, Echo's hips stilled as they pressed into you. The Mandalorian praises that intermingled with your name, the way his mouth fell to your shoulder, leaving open-mouthed kisses, everything coalesced to a white flash shooting through your body. A sob of his name reverberated off of the bathroom walls, echoing around the two of you as your release hit you. The force seemed to hit your knees and you faltered on your feet but were caught quickly by Echo's scomp-link arm, reeling you back into him.

"Careful there," the smile in his voice evident as he nosed at your temple, pressing a few gentle kisses along your cheek. "Just relax, I gotcha." The gentleness of his touches weaved around you, lulling you against his firm body and the mechanical parts cool against your hot skin. "Sorry, I know some of the pieces might be prodding you." He winced at the thought abruptly.

You shook your head in response, steadying yourself against him by wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling closer. "Perfect… You're cool, it feels good, don't move."

Echo was once again left silent by your unconditional favor of all of him. "You continually amaze me," his chuckle affectionate as he hugged you closer. "Now, let's get dressed and get out of this filthy place. I've been thinking about another holomovie we could watch."

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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year ago

Text

Oblivious To Love

masterlist 1k celebration

pairing: five hargreeves x female reader

warnings: fluff, kinda flirting, kissing

summary: five is your boss at the commission, always flirting and hinting that he likes you. you're oblivious to this but then finally admits his feelings - requested by anon

a/n: not to toot my own horn but i think my writing was pretty good in this. thanks so much for requesting for five because i have to write more of him !!

song: i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

Five Hargreeves was certainly a character.

He was a decently closed off person. He was always thinking... calculating. Always working to be ten steps ahead of everyone and everything.

He didn't enjoy working at the Commission. He'd rather be enjoying life with his family, and enjoying a decent cup of coffee. For a while when he was there, he was always aggravated at someone or something.

That was until you came.

Or well, until he met you. You've been working there for a few months already.

You're the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on. To make things better, he was over the moon when you became his assistant.

You are absolutely lovely. Not to mention, incredible at your job.

You're sweet, smart, and extremely sensible.

Five loved your company. He was always in a good mood when you're around. He often dreamt about you, not to be taken out of context.

He dreamt of a life with you, seeing as how you two are so compatible.

To put the cherry on the sundae, you made the best coffee he's ever had. That says a lot coming from him.

"Good morning, Five," your captivating voice fills his office.

"Morning, gorgeous," he smiles.

He watches as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "You have got to stop calling me things like that."

"Nonsense, everything I call you is fitting."

He leans back in his seat and watches your movements as you move towards him. He takes in your outfit and curses the unprofessional thoughts that invade his head.

Today you were dressed in a knee length black skirt, a white button up blouse, and a black blazer.

The blouse had a few buttons undone which gave a glorious view of your cleavage when you lowered yourself to pick a fallen paper off the floor.

However, he considered himself a gentleman, so he looked away.

"Anyway, I was just about to go and make your coffee. Would it be troublesome if I joined you today?"

He stands up from the chair and strolls over to you. He brushes a strand of hair that sways in front of your face. "You're always welcome to join me, doll."

"Great! I'll be right back," you beam and leave.

To say you enjoyed having Five as your boss was an understatement. He was always kind to you, never let anyone say a bad word about you.

You wouldn't deny the fact that he was an attractive young man. The way he called you pet names that had your stomach flutter made you have a sliver of hope that he liked you.

True, pure love.

It's something you've always dreamed about. Reading it in books and seeing it in films gave you a longing to have someone to spend your life with.

After you finished preparing the two coffees, you walk back to Five's office. Your heels make a sound with every step you take.

You open the door and send a soft smile to your boss. "Welcome back, beautiful."

You break eye contact and place his beverage in front of him. "Hi."

He leans his head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his desk and admires you. "How did I get so lucky," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear it.

You chew the inside of your cheek, "Get lucky with what?" you ask quietly.

He blinks. Then blinks again. "How did I get so lucky with you? When did I do something to deserve you?"

"Oh, um, t-that's very sweet of-"

"Have you ever taken into consideration that there's a deeper reason why I act the way I do with you?"

"Well, not exactly..." you trail off.

"Hm. Did you ever cogitate about how maybe there's a more meaningful explanation to how I behave around you? One besides getting entertainment from witnessing you blush?"

Your mouth opens slightly, and you are at a loss for words. After a moment, your eyes meet his intense ones. You take a breath, "Are you saying..."

He nods once, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"But what about-"

Before you have the chance to finish your sentence, he strides over in front of your chair, puts his hands on each one of the arm rests, and connects his lips softly onto yours.

He felt you freeze for a split second, before you tilted your head upwards to kiss him back easier.

He drowns in the feeling of your lips. The kiss being shared between you two is better than anything he ever could have imagined.

You both taste of coffee, and he loves it.

You pull back and smile shyly as him. He takes a step back and hops onto the desk, so he's now sitting on it and facing you.

He leans his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. "I hope after that kiss you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night."

You stand up and smooth your skirt. "I would be delighted."

#nina writes 🤭💗#nina’s 1k celebration ❣️#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #five hargeeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves oneshot #five hargreeves fanfiction #the umbrella academy x you #the umbrella academy oneshot #tua #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfic #five x you #five x reader #five fanfiction

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azullumi · 2 years ago

Note

Adopting a Kitty with scara???

Take your time, and thank you.

(may i ask, do you allow anons like "🛌 anon"?)

summary — you tell him about your wish of adopting a kitten.

pairing — wanderer/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, could be modern au but also could be not, established relationship ; scenario/headcanons

words — 782

note — i didnt know if i should go for a headcanon or scenario format so i ended up doing both. anyways, to answer your question, yes i allow anons like that! :DD

“It looks grumpy.”

He says as he stares at the dark-furred kitty paired with dark eyes which also stared back at him. It just feels like the two beings are having a staring-contest and seeing who will dominate in terms of not blinking for a long time and the sight for you was quite… amusing and entertaining—seeing the seemingly mature man fight an animal that is significantly smaller than him.

You couldn’t help but sigh at puerile antics being displayed in front of you.

What made you end up in this situation? Well, it all happened like this—

"Let's get a cat."

When you brought up the idea to him, he was bewildered—leaning more on confusion—because why? What made you suddenly decide to get one as you two are cuddling up in bed while the night is silent and the cold is loud?

“Why?”

Going into a brief silence, you thought of what your reasons were for bringing that subject up. Honestly, you didn’t have anything in mind, maybe it was just a spur of the moment thought but your desire to get a cat is really taking over you. Small paws, fluffy tails, cute ears, images of adorable kitties formed inside your head which amplifies your reasons and love for them.

“I don’t know, do I need a reason? I just find them cute and I want one.” You say, shrugging your shoulders before snuggling closer to him. “So, let’s get one. Let’s adopt a cat, please?”

Your voice, pleading and soft against him, made his heart flutter and seemingly turned him into mush. God, how could he even deny you? Who even in their right mind could turn down someone like you, beautiful and lovely? Definitely not him, completely not him who cherishes you so much he would do anything that will make you happy.

“...You know you didn’t have to ask for my permission or anything, right?”

“I was just making sure.” You couldn’t help but smile once you got his approval, raising your head to look up at him with eyes glistening and sparkling with delight, and you didn’t notice how his face softened and how adoration seeped into his features once he gazed at you.

“Even if I say no, you’ll still probably get one anyways.”

“You really do know me but still, I just wanted to let you know and ask you at the same time. I don’t want you getting angry or anything just because I didn’t get to tell you.” You caressed his cheek with your hand and he leaned against your touch, feeling the lovingness your touch emits more closer to him.

“Why would I even get mad? I could never get angry at you, always remember that.”

“Swear?”

He presses a kiss on your lips, a quick and fleeting one before responding, murmuring against your mouth as he leans his forehead against yours.

“Swear.”

—So now, you are here in this situation, amused by the behavior of the two in front of you that looks like they are mirroring each other.

“Doesn’t it look like you though?”

“Nonsense,” He says, averting his gaze but looking back at the cat once again who continues to stare at him and he added: “...Nonsense.”

You chuckle upon witnessing his reaction before deciding that this is the cat that you want to adopt, the one that you wish to get for you and for him.

BONUS HEADCANONS

You didn’t expect that the similarities between him and the cat isn’t only limited to their appearances but also in how they act, both of them are moody and grumpy. It’s like you just got a clone of him but in an animal version and you’re not complaining because seeing him and the cat interact with each other is so entertaining.

The name of it? You gave it a cute one and he calls it with an ugly nickname he made up in his head and every time he calls him—the kitten—with that, you just roll your eyes and let him be.

When you spend more time with the cat than him, he gets jealous although you wouldn’t notice it at first up until later when he’s showing signs of irritation and being more clingy to you—it is when you will realize what he is truly feeling and you’ll end up having to placate or appease to him.

He does love and care for the animal though with the way he buys it treats, toys, and everything for it, he just doesn’t admit it to himself. You’ll just have to wait for him to warm up and eventually, you’ll find him asleep together with the cat on the couch, treating the kitten like it's his own child.

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bcacstuff · 27 days ago

Note

Did you noticed Sam's time on IG these last 3 days? Back in Scotland?

Yes, of course I noticed the times he posted on IG. I keep track of them and list them. That's why I'm always amazed when people jump to all kind of conclusions that do not match with the reality but for some kind of reason, mostly confirmation bias, add up to the story they've build in their heads.

I mean, the ones claiming he barely posted on IG this whole week and make assumptions, he must have been ill (as his voice in the video yesterday seem to sound a little sore) to people way to much focussed on dates for which there is hardly a shred of evidence, only smoke and mirrors, now claiming they found the answer on the eternal chicken and egg question. 🙄

Anyway, it doesn't cure fatal diseases nor will it solve any wars. So, nope not gonna entertain that nonsense.

So yes, I did look at the times he posted, last Friday only 3 reposts all at the same time, just before 7pm (UK time). Could indicate flying somewhere. Could be back home, could be elsewhere.... and then yesterday the video announcing his whisky available in Canada.

Surely enough I looked a bit into it, curiosity kills the cat, and I did notice the Scottish flag on the framed poster.

A poster called The Complete Robert Burns and can be ordered online shipped to wherever you want it! #justsaying

So, at itself it doesn't really determine that it must be in Scotland (or his home for that matter) someone in China with Scottish roots or loving Burns work could order it and put it on their wall as well....

I never saw this poster at his house, which also doesn't exclude that option, as it could simply be a corner in the tavern he hasn't shown us yet. It's at least not the usual spot he records his videos in his tavern, but sure he could have chosen that spot for St. Andrews day 🤷‍♀️

What made me doubt though was the glass he used for his whisky....

I asked myself, wouldn't he use his own SS whisky glass when he was at home? As far as I can remember he always does, and it's only in hotel rooms we see him use other.

Oh and for the people saying he didn't wear his rings, well... I do think he can take them off in a hotel room as well.

Anyway, those were the thoughts I had, there isn't much more to go by. The tiny furniture parts we can see for a sec or less isn't enough to go by. Add to that we don't know when he recorded this video, though I don't think it was weeks ago and do think it is recent if not RT.

So, yes it's back to the times, while yesterday his first reposted story was quite early for UK, today (so far) it's between noon and the beginning of the evening UK times. It does match mostly UK, but I'm not entirely sure, so it's still speculation.

I know you al will draw your own conclusions, and that's okay. But for my sanity, please use your good sense of reality. I'm still looking for one eyeball, as I rolled my eyes so much at my inbox...

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

Later edit, after posting above I received this Anon

which shows indeed the same framed poster (in his old house) so he does own one, and makes it more credible the video yesterday was recorded at his tavern.

Thanks Anon 🧡🧡🧡

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askthestans · 7 months ago

Note

Are any of you older than each other like by 7 minutes or something

Stanley: Oh boy, here we go. Anon, I'll give ya one piece of advice when it comes to dealin' with my brother Ford: do not - and I repeat - do NOT remind 'im of anything he's either good at or proud of. Your ears will thank me.

Stanford: I'll translate that for you. He means to say, "I'm the younger twin, and I'm incredibly insecure about it.". There.

Stanley: Pfft, like a few minutes means anything!

All of the sudden, Dipper and Mabel walk into the room, looking quite bored. They see Ford and Stan having an argument and they both get sly smirks.

Mabel: Grunkle fight?

Dipper: Grunkle fight.

Stanley: Kids, that's not gonna work. I'm not gettin' into a fight with Sixer here just for your entertainment. Besides, I'm right: a few minutes doesn't matter. And even if it did, me and Ford are past fighting over petty crap now, because we're mature adults.

Dipper and Mabel give each other a skeptical look.

Stanford: Stan's right, kids. We might have fought in the past, but no longer. Our bond's been strengthened over a year of traveling together on the Stan-O-War II, and nothing - absolutely nothing - can make Stan and I turn against each other.

Soos walks in the room.

Soos: Do my eyes deceive me? Is another Grunkle fight upon us, and will it serve as good canon material to inspire more of my Stanfiction? Not gonna lie, the canon material's been kinda lacking these days. It's almost like the writers have forgotten about us!

Stanley: No! No Grunkle fights! And I thought I told ya to quit writin' Stanfiction or whatever about me or my brother! Stanford: Nonsense. He puts his hand on Soos' shoulder. Soos, I encourage you to follow your dreams. Write all the Stanfiction your heart desires. Stanley: You're only sayin' that 'cause Soos always makes you the hero!

Soos: It's okay, Stan. Ford may be the hero of my Stanfiction... His voice turns into a whisper and he tenderly pets Stan's hand. But you're the hero of my heart.

Stanley: He rips his hand out of Soos'. Yeesh, I take it back! Write about Ford all ya want! Just keep me out of it. He sighs. Anyways, the point is, is me and Ford are not gonna fight. We never fight anymore!

Soos, Dipper, and Mabel look at each other. It's a mix of a knowing skepticism, a smirk, and a glance that almost seems as if an agreement made in secret is being referenced. For some reason, Soos just smiles, then runs off to the kitchen, where the sound of popping popcorn can be heard down the hall for no reason in particular.

Dipper: Oh, right, right. Of course. We all know you guys are over that fighting stuff. I mean, you're the oldest ones here! Surely neither of you would ever get into a fight so petty that you turn the whole Shack into a warzone over something as dumb as whether or not who was born first matters. He glances over at his sister. Right, Mabel? They're responsible, mature adults, our Grunkles?

Mabel: Totally! Definitely! The most responsible adults the world has ever seen! Although... that argument you and me had the other day... nah! Never mind. I shouldn't bring it up.

Dipper: Oh, the one over... Dipper pauses, as if he's just making something up. Right, the one about whether Ford or Stan is the more fun Grunkle. Yep. A real snoozefest, that argument was. It was obvious what the answer is, anyways.

Stan and Ford glance at each other, suspicious, as if testing the waters to see if the other will start arguing about it.

Stanford: We're both equally fun, kids. And that's all I'll say about it.

Stanley: Exactly! Equally fun. His grin widens. Even if Ford's summer fun ideas involve more dangerous explosions and injuries and strange chemical smells than a World War I trench.

Stanford: Yes... His smile fades a bit and shoots Stan a major case of stink-eye. And even if Stan's summer fun ideas are as entertaining as a nursing home activity schedule, yet still somehow end up with us in jail 50% of the time.

Stanley: He pauses, his grin fading as well. Well, we can't all be interdimensional criminals like Ford here! I'm just tryin' to take after my older by only seven pointless minutes brother. Imagine havin' a whole Multiverse hate ya, and not just Earth!

Stanford: Well, for your information, what you call 'explosions and injuries and strange chemical smells' is something you wouldn't grasp in a million years: science. Some of us need to actually contribute to society, you know.

Stanley: Yeah? And some of us need to look up the definition of 'rational' and 'safe' in the dictionary, because apparently you can't tell the difference between a biohazard symbol and a welcome sign! ~

Three hours later, Soos, Mabel, Dipper, and now Wendy are on the front lawn of the Shack, sitting in comfy lawn chairs and inhaling popcorn and Pitt Soda like their lives depend on it. Mabel's knitting another 'Stanwich' sweater, Dipper's got his arms behind his head and is smirking, Wendy is recording, and Soos is writing Stanfiction on a laptop.

Stan and Ford are on the lawn in front of them, wrestling.

Stanford: I'm the more mature adult here!

Stanley: More mature? The only thing more 'mature' about you is seven stupid minutes and your ridiculous fashion sense! AKA, none!

Stanford: Trench coats and turtlenecks are stylish and classy, two words you don't know the definition of! At least I don't spend half the day in boxers!

Stanley: Yeah, that's 'cause I don't need to wear tight pants all day to hide a giant stick up my ass, unlike some people!

Soos: Tapping away at his Stanfiction. The Muses... they sing to me!

Wendy: Um... how long do these Grunkle fights usually last, anyways?

Dipper: Shrugs. Eh, anywhere from two hours to three days, on average.

Mabel brings out a scrapbook, showing a Grunkle fight prior. The pictures seem to indicate a squabble that involved the furniture turned over into cover to hide behind, a Stan and Ford with eyes more sleepless than usual and stubble that looked like it hadn't been shaved in days, a fist fight with oven mitts, and nearly the whole town watching at one point as Stan chased Ford down a street, both in Disney princess dresses, with a spoon and a goat in Stan's hands and Ford flipping a double middle finger behind him at Stan. Mabel: The world record is one week! Too bad you weren't there for Grunklegeddon, Wendy.

Wendy: Her eye twitches upon seeing the photos of Grunklegeddon. And what are the chances this one will turn into something just as bad or worse?

Dipper: Depends. Usually, we know it's gonna be at least four days if Ford brings up the meatloaf argument.

Wendy: Meatloaf?

Just then, Ford and Stan still wrestling on the lawn, Ford brings up said meatloaf argument. Something about their time on the Stan-O-War II, Ford making his favorite meatloaf recipe every Friday night, and a pack of mermaids always following soon after, asking if they had any more 'meat tasties' that the 'old man clone that smelled like cigars and regret' dumped overboard every Friday night right around dinnertime.

Stanford: You could have just told me you didn't like it!

Stanley: Newsflash, Poindexter, no one would like a meatloaf made of eel and gorgon meat!

Stanford: Come on, I spent thirty years in the Multiverse and ate way worse than that, and you couldn't handle a little eel and gorgon!? So what if it had some snake heads in it!? Besides, scientifically, gorgon and eel is much healthier for you than beef, and you did lose some weight, remember?

Stanley: Because I kept dumpin' that freaky slop in the ocean!

Soos, Dipper, and Mabel look at each other, excited. Wendy just looks concerned for a moment as Stan and Ford keep fighting, then shrugs and smiles, leaning back and watching the festivities commence.

#stanley pines #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls #askthestans #yes they're very mature adults #that's why we love these two old geezers

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hard-core-super-star · 1 year ago

Note

Ngl, being able to edit things here is cool, other media don't have this option so all you have to do is delete or slowly die every time you remember that mistake🥲

WELL– in that case it would be really fun to see Yelena just being a big softie to reader and end up getting caught by her friends doing so, then everyone would make fun of her or something (it would probably be their last time making fun of something in their lives, poor souls.

I saw that you still have things to write, so no hurry (and good luck with all this-). Also, Your writing is really good so it will be good anyway, but I'm sure you'll get it!

passive-aggressive magic tricks [Y.Belova]

pairing: yelena belova x reader

summary: a fun game night with your friends takes a turn when they realize how much of a soft dork the russian turns into when she's around you.

warnings: none, i think [except peter being verbally attacked every other paragraph lmao]; so much dialogue; a weirdly written game of uno; just...so much chaos; never written for yelena before so feel free to yell at me if she's too ooc in this one

wordcount: 1.2k

a/n: this gif makes me feel things gonna start this off by saying that this is meant to be romantic but you can read it as platonic if you want. i know everyone has an opinion on yelena's sexuality and not everyone will agree with mine and that's okay! [just don't be a jerk about it. i personally think yelena is a demiromantic asexual so do with that what you will] ALSO, this is so chaotic and borderline nonsensical and you can blame 🌟 for making me think about yelena playing uno that one time. ALSO ALSO, thank you for the vote of confidence, lovely anon, this was actually really fun to write and i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“This sucks,” Kate declares with a pout.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, Kate Bishop.” Yelena’s words only make the archer’s pout deepen which makes the whole situation feel even more ridiculous.

“Yeah, Kate,” you jump in. “You’re the one who started talking shit in the first place.”

An offended gasp escapes her lips at your accusation. “I wasn’t talking shit! I was being honest about my skills.”

This time, Peter cuts in before the blonde gets a chance to make fun of the archer again. “Guys, I thought we decided against Monopoly so we wouldn’t fight.”

“Fighting is Yelena’s love language,” you reply with a shrug.

You pretend not to notice the way the Russian’s lips quirk up into a small smile and instead focus on Kate and her awful decision-making skills. It takes her a few extra seconds and she still manages to choose the most annoying card in her hand.

“It took you two minutes to throw in a plus-four?” Peter questions, clearly doing his best to not sound judgemental.

“Shut up and take the cards, Pete.”

The boy grumbles something you don’t quite catch but Kate is quick to punch him in the arm, earning herself a kick to the shin. Their dynamic is certainly…interesting and you can’t stop yourself from wondering how much of it comes from being two only children attempting to one-up each other.

Yelena leans in toward you, pretending to whisper. “Why are we hanging out with them again?”

The pair clearly overhears her considering both the glare and the pout that gets thrown your way. You merely shrug in response, attempting to shield your cards from her expert gaze. “It’s…entertaining, I guess.”

“You guys are jerks,” Kate says, speaking the thoughts Peter is far too nice to vocalize. (It’s definitely not because he’s terrified of getting on Yelena’s bad side.)

“And you suck at Uno.”

She rolls her eyes at you but decides not to reply. The small moment of silence allows Peter to take his turn and the game continues…until Yelena decides to betray you.

You’re not fully paying attention to the strategies each one of your companions is forming which means you don’t realize it when they decide to team up against you.

You’re only four cards away from winning and the blonde beside you can’t stop herself from sneaking a look at your deck. Kate somehow manages to catch her in the act and the two stare each other down until the archer raises an eyebrow, silently asking to be a part of the Russian’s plan.

A plan that quickly leads to Kate placing down another plus-four card and Peter being thrown one of Yelena’s under the table.

“We can stack, right?” He asks, mainly in an attempt to keep you from noticing what they’re doing.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply with a shrug. “Just don’t be surprised when Yelena pulls out a knife from her boot.”

The joke gets a few chuckles, and a slightly concerned look from the young Avenger.

“Do not worry, Spider-Boy, I promised y/n I wouldn’t threaten you…again.”

“Right…” Peter’s clearly not convinced but he throws in his card anyway.

You turn to face Yelena with a smug smirk. “Sorry, babe, but it looks like I’m on my way to winning this round.”

“You sound like Kate Bishop.” She playfully rolls her eyes at you but the glint in her eyes shows off more amusement than annoyance. “I hope you handle losing better than she does, though.”

“Hey!” You and the archer both voice your protests, albeit for different reasons, as the blonde slams down the last plus-four card needed to ensure you won’t win any time soon.

This time around, she’s the one who looks at you with a smug grin but you’re too busy being dramatic to fully appreciate how good she looks when she’s being competitive. It’s genuinely just a stupid card game and yet you pull out all the tricks you’ve learned over the past few months to get the Russian to melt into the huge softie she is at heart.

“Oh, come on, that was mean.” You pull on your best impression of Kate’s wounded puppy dog look. A look that includes slightly wide eyes and an incredibly deep pout.

A pout Yelena has never been good at resisting. (But only when it comes to you, much to the archer’s dismay)

She, literally and figuratively, keeps her cards close to her chest but you catch the way her free hand twitches slightly, almost as if she’s fighting to keep herself from touching you. It’s strange how affectionate she wants to be with you when she’s always been the first to pull away from a hug, the first one to scoot away when someone sits too close.

Being guarded had always felt like second nature to her until you came along.

Her hand reaches out before she can stop it, landing on your knee and giving it a soft yet reassuring squeeze. It's a subtle reminder that underneath all her sarcasm and the rough edges, she cares about you. A lot more than she ever thought herself capable of.

“It’s just a game, sweetheart.” The words are a mere whisper but somehow the person with the worst attention span you’ve ever seen manages to overhear them.

“Did you just call y/n ‘sweetheart’?” Kate blurts out, clearly far too shocked to worry about her safety. “You actually have feelings?”

“Wait, did she really say that?” Peter’s slightly more cautious but there’s both awe in curiosity shining in his brown eyes.

“I heard her!”

“I think you hit your head too hard on your last mission, Bishop,” you reply, trying to steer the conversation away the second Yelena starts glaring at your friends.

Despite all her other skills, Kate is still awful at reading the room so instead of accepting the safety you’re offering, she decides to be stubborn like always. “Don’t lie to me, y/n, I know what I heard. Yelena’s just a big-”

“A big what?” The blonde cuts in with the most threatening glare she can manage. Which, considering she’s an ex-assassin, is quite effective at shutting the archer up.

“Um…” You can practically see the wheels spinning in the brunette’s head as she tries to come up with something different to say. She clearly fails based on the words that come out. “A big softie..?”

“Oh, Kate,” you sigh. “You’re never going to learn to stop poking the bear, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

Her confusion lasts for about a second before Yelena shoots up from the couch and lunges toward her. The archer gets the message pretty quickly after that, expertly ducking out of the way and taking off running in the direction of the bathroom.

All you can do is laugh and shake your head as the Russian chases after her. “Go easy on her, babe!”

“Yeah, Yelena, listen to your girlfriend!”

“Kate!” You and the Russian yell out at the same time, leading to a fit of giggles belonging to the biggest instigator you've ever met.

"So much for a chill game night," Peter mumbles, placing his cards onto the coffee table. "You're gonna go help Kate out, right?"

You shrug. "I'll think about it."

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova fic #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova #florence pugh #hawkeye #black widow #kate bishop #peter parker #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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lick-me-lennon22 · 8 months ago

Text

How they'd react to an ordinary reader/reader who doesn't know them

(big thanks to anon for this request!! I tried my very best 💕 I hope this is what you were looking for ✨️ enjoy!)

John

John would be incredulous at first, wondering how on Earth you didn't realize who he is

it would take him a moment to recover from that blow to his ego

once he does, however, he realizes he's stumbled upon a golden opportunity to mess with you

he'd regale you with elaborate and nonsensical tales of his past - so outlandish, not even a child would believe a word he'd said

you'd be skeptical but play along, asking questions and feigning great curiosity about his (clearly made-up) backstory

John would come to admire your individuality and respect your rare ability to stay true to yourself

he'd enjoy challenging your thoughts and ideas, dropping by often to spark witty debates and intellectual discussions with you over a cuppa

Paul

Paul is surprisingly endeared to your ignorance of his fame, finding you charmingly aloof

he approaches you with curiosity and warmth, eager to learn more about your interests and passions

he finds he is able to relax a bit, no longer having to bear the weight of pressure fans' expectations place on him

he'd share with you stories from his own life, careful not to divulge anything too wild in his pursuit to find common ground

Paul quickly grows to appreciate your creativity and unique perspective

he often invites you to come down to the studio with him and be a test audience for new melodies/song ideas

sometimes he'll request songwriting critiques from you just so he can hear your voice as you speak your mind freely to him, gazing at you with a dreamy look in his eyes

George

upon realizing that you don't seem to recognize him, George breathes out a sigh of relief

to him, you're a breath of fresh air amidst the deafening crowds and bustling mobs of fans and press alike

he really resonates with your introspective nature and individuality, respecting your withdrawn lifestyle

over time, he begins to open up around you and abandon his shyness a bit

you're privy to a more talkative side of George, a rare sight and a far cry from his usual quiet and reserved demeanor

he takes great interest in your passions, asking questions to gain a better understanding of the inner workings of your mind

he listens to every song and reads every book to recommend to him, always one to broaden his horizons and look at things from a new perspective

Ringo

Ringo first approaches you with his trademark warmth and humor, radiating confidence and passion

eventually making the connection that you don't seem to recognize him, he feels himself growing shy

usually, his career is his go-to talking point

regardless, he does his best to entertain you by sharing anecdotes from his colorful life

though you suspect some exaggeration, you find yourself charmed by the man's embellished stories and are happy to lend an ear

Ringo would come to enjoy your refreshing take on life and want to accompany you everywhere, no matter the occasion

the two of you share many new experiences and adventures together, discovering more about yourselves and one another

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saintsenara · 6 months ago

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Hey!

My main takeaway from your unhinged ships series - which provides me with limitless entertainment btw so thank you for your service - is how intricate your knowledge of the HP series is!

I'm kind of in a weird limbo rn where I have a great love for this world and the series but JKR's behaviour in recent years has completely turned me off the whole thing. I've been too disheartened to engage with the canon material in any real sense for years, but your exploration of it is kind of rekindling my interest. Do you have any thoughts on this?

Also, is HP like your niche or do you possess an encyclopaedic knowledge on any other works of literature or pop culture phenomena? This is just pure curiosity on my end.

thank you very much for this anon! it's extremely sweet.

how to reconcile being a part of this fandom - and, especially, how to be in a corner of the fandom which places more emphasis on the text than others - with jkr's decision to become a bigot is a question i'm sure we've all spent a lot of time on, and it's one which is going to have an inherently subjective answer.

my personal view is that she'll never get another penny out of me - i'm persevering with my original copies of the books, judiciously sellotaped; i won't engage at all with the upcoming television adaptation; i've not seen the fantastic beasts films; i wouldn't go and see cursed child; i wouldn't play hogwarts legacy; i don't buy merch and so on - but that writing my little stories and yapping away on my little tumblr is fine, because it's an engagement with the series which, no matter how much it focuses on the text she wrote, is still mine rather than hers.

but - of course - there are entirely reasonable arguments against this position, in either direction. someone who does engage more with jkr's post-radicalisation output could justifiably say that - since i've written stories involving delphini, who only exists because of cursed child, the fact that i've never seen or read the play is irrelevant and my insistence that there's a meaningful distinction between enjoying the expanded world of the series and enjoying the expanded world of the series in a way jkr materially benefits from is performative nonsense. someone else could justifiably say that jkr benefits [directly and indirectly] from all fandom engagement, even if that fandom engagement is critical of her and even if it doesn't financially support her - the upcoming television adaptation, for example, wouldn't have been greenlit if hbo didn't think it would get an audience, and the continued vitality of the harry potter fandom undoubtedly contributed to their belief that it would.

neither of these arguments are wrong - although neither is objectively correct either. each of us has to form a subjective opinion, be ok with it, and be open to changing it as time passes.

and i do genuinely think that engaging with the text as a text - something else i bang on about all the time - is helpful when it comes to reconciling everything.

i know it sounds very pretentious [and i also suspect that many people think the series isn't "well-written" enough to justify such pretension...] to say that the fandom needs to get better at embracing a variety of methods of reading the text and understanding the author's relationship to it.

this isn't me saying that anyone who wants to get into fandom needs to be able to rattle of the names of literary theorists, or be able to give an answer to "the series is historiographic metafiction: discuss".

[although if anyone would like to try and argue in favour of that proposition... i'd shriek.]

what it is is me saying that the dominant way of reading the text in the fandom - which is to focus on the reader's emotional response [and, above all, the reader's emotional response in childhood] - can end up giving jkr quite a bit more authority in how we engage with the series than she deserves. it's why many of us might say that we feel she's "betrayed" or "taken something away from" us, for example - and it's why many of us might feel that she's forced us into approaching the series in ways which decentre the canon material.

and this is - obviously - a completely legitimate way of engaging and responding. but there's also a lot to be gained from thinking outside of our emotional responses about things like the genre conventions which govern the series, the tropes and archetypes it uses, its language and syntax, its existence as something standalone, the other works of literature which influence it, and the social and historical context in which it was written. treating the series as "just" some books reduces jkr's authority over our response to it - and while the argument that this doesn't mean anything in the real world, since all she's going to care about is that people are reading her stuff, is an inherently reasonable one, i do think it has real-world benefits to us in how we square the circle of enjoying the text.

more controversially, though, i think it's also worth thinking about the personal context in which the series was written.

for me, the author is dead based on whether or not i need her to be. i don't think that the only valid interpretation of a text is the author's intended one, and i don't think that the only valid interpretation of a text is one dependent on matching parts of the story onto the author's biography. but i do think it's important for readers to know both what jkr understands the text as saying and what has happened in her life that bleeds through into it [such as the way her difficult relationship with her father and her experience of her mother's terminal illness undeniably influences the series' prioritisation of sacrifical motherhood and certain coolness towards fathers]. this doesn't mean agreeing with - or even empathising with - her by any means, it's just another tool in our arsenal when it comes to thinking of the series as no more or less special than any other piece of literature, and jkr no more or less important to our interpretation of it than any other author.

and i think it's worth saying that she doesn't seem to be someone who's bothered when fans say that she doesn't understand her own text or that she's lost the right to speak about it or that the fandom has taken it back from her - which is also why when people say that non-canon shipping [especially of queer pairings] must piss her off i think it's just cope - because she can spin that as these people being childish and unwilling to face reality.

but she does seem to be bothered by people who say "yeah, i know that's what you think and i know that's what you intended... but i disagree and you don't have the right to dictate otherwise".

[this is why - i think - she gets so frothingly pissed-off by daniel radcliffe's immaculate stance against her anti-trans bigotry. he's always very firm in saying "she can think what she wants, but - firstly - this isn't about what she thinks privately, it's about what she does publicly and - secondly - i think she's completely wrong and i'm not going to change my mind just because she wants me to", and she obviously doesn't like the fact that this is much harder to spin into the narrative that she's being "oppressed" and "victimised" than she'd like...]

the text is just a text, and she's just one woman, but our ways of reading are infinite and important and ours. the new horizon in literary theory is "fuck her, we ball".

[when it comes to "do i have a good memory?" the answer is "yes, but for purely useless information". when the question is whether that good memory relates to other pieces of pop culture, i'm either very lucky or very unlucky - depending on where you stand on such things - that the fandoms for hit millennial sitcoms don't seem to be large... otherwise i'd clearly be spending all my time writing epic nick/schmidt or liz lemon/jenna maroney romances and/or being cancelled for being in george michael/maeby nation...]

#asks answered #fuck jkr we ball

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hollywoodsargeant · 1 year ago

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Could you do a sunglasses ranking please?🙏

YES. okay. so this is considering all of the pairs of sunglasses he wears that i am aware of... if there's more. well. i probably just thought they were one of these (or i forgot about them) but logan is a big sunglasses guy (self-proclaimed) like i don't think there is or ever will be a race where he doesn't wear sunglasses at some point. so ofc i have opinions about all of them

i'll put it under. a read more bc this post is excessive. open for logan sunglasses + thoughts

these are p1. i think i have mentioned that these sunglasses specifially are my favorite of is... i don't really know why but they're my personal favorite. and he wears them a pretty decent amount so i see this as a win (also that picture of him in monaco in the polo shirt makes me so stupid thought you should know)

i think i like the. idk what the word is. the little strip above his nose. idk. i don't wear sunglasses man i just have a lot of opinions about them

second place... These. just based on what i've seen i feel like he wears these ones the most. they're the origin of my "i love a man in big ugly sunglasses" bc they are kind of. Large. and for what it's worth i know these are the sunglasses he has in his GQ video where he says he can't live without sunglasses. maybe they are his favorite. who knows

final step of the podium. whatever the fuck these are. i don't think he ever wore them outside of this specific merch shoot? but i like them. maybe i'm just blinded by the fact that i like this merch shoot... that first pic is in like. every single post i've done where someone asks for my favorite logan pics. good one man. FOR REASONS...

this post is about SUNGLASSES sorry. i like these sunglasses. but i'm not entirely convinced they're real

fourth is these! if i have ever referred to these as my least favorite i mean they're my least favorite out of the three pairs of sunglasses i feel like he wears the most. (which is my first and second place + these) but i don't think he's worn these ones in a bit? like both of these photos are from F2. i know he wore them in jeddah two years in a row bc i had a whole thing about them

so not the point. even if he hasn't worn them in a while. not my favs. it's still logan so i will still eat it up but. i prefer the other ones

fifth? fish. i like these pictures. the are definitely a function over fashion thing for once (he has said he like sunglasses bc they're a good fashion statement... like okay... guy who wears the same quarter-zip every race week...) i have only ever seen him wear them when he's on a boat. i doubt he would ever wear these to a race see prior mention of fashion and all his other sunglasses i think are like. expensive. remember when i said i don't wear sunglasses yeah idk

i like the fisherboy in him. happy summer break logan put these sunglasses back on and go fishing thanks

and last i have. whatever these are. mostly at the bottom bc i don't think he's worn them since prema? but also they're kind of a lot. maybe i'm just crazy but i think he looks better in the darker sunglasses than he does these ones... anyways. i think these ones have been retired since f3. replaced. but they're included on this list bc i found this picture in my camera roll

since i did throw this one on the end. i am SURE... there are older pairs of sunglasses he doesn't wear anymore that i missed. my ranking is mostly of those three (which i put 1-2-4) but even above that mostly the top two. i feel like he alternates between those two. but i get irrationally happy when he wears my favorite ones because. Well. they're my favorite...

#ask #thank you anon for entertaining my nonsense #bc this is definitely some nonsense #but i have a lot of time on my hands #that i use to like. think about him. ig #logan sargeant #feast ur eyes on the man in his sunglasses #i love a man in big ugly sunglasses

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gaybananabread · 1 year ago

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AHHH, ok ok. This is my first time like ordering anything so I’m nervous asf. But I’d like oranges, grapes and cherries with Ler!Jax and Lee!Pomni. Obv everything platonic, and like, go nuts with the plot. (Idk if this is worth mentioning pero I have this silly little headcannon that Pomni squeaks like a squeaky toy when squeezed so like, IF YOU WANT, you can add that.)

IF YOU DONT DO THIS ONE ITS OKK, I rly enjoy your writing and hope you have a great day/ night, tyy <33

Fruit(s): Oranges, Grapes, Cherries

Aww thank you Anon! You’re all good, and love that Pomni would absolutely become a dog toy (¬‿¬). Jax is definitely interesting to write for, and I like playing around with his asshole-ness. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Pomni

Ler: Jax

Summary: Pomni is still getting used to the circus, anxious and uneasy in the new environment. Jax tries to help out, though he does it in his own annoying way.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

In the circus tent, small NPCs ran wild, knocking things over and babbling nonsense. They were like the Gloinks, but so much worse. Caine had dipped on them once again, leaving the characters to fend for themselves. Zooble peaced out, but the others were stuck with them.

It took nearly the whole day, but they had managed to contain the little monsters until Caine came back to woosh them away. For most of the characters, it was weirdly routine. For the newest arrival, however, it was more than off-putting. Pomni just felt…out of place in the digital world. She wandered around the tent, trying to calm herself down.

Jax was walking around, trying to find something to do. He would have messed with Ragatha, but her and Gangle were having some kind of “girl’s day.” Ugh…he wanted no part of it.

Just as he was considering going to explore the forbidden rooms, he heard the faint jingling of bells. Pomni must’ve been “exploring” the grounds again. While she wasn’t his usual target, the jester would probably keep him entertained until something else happened.

The smug and confident smirk he always wore shrank as he approached her. Pomni looked so…so tired. Tired and way too wound up. Still, he sauntered over, trying to gauge just how upset she was. “Hey, newbie. You sane after that horror show?”

Pomni flinched at his voice, taking a second to register what he said; she’d been spacing out for most of the day. “U-uhm…yes? Why?”

He rolled his eyes, trying to act as aloof as possible. “Really? ‘S just that ya look like you’re about to fall apart. Hey, you think that’s possible here?” Jax cared about how she was doing, but he had an image and a rep in the circus. No way he was jeopardizing that.

“Shut up, Jax…” She turned away from him, rubbing her arm and looking down. The girl felt crummy enough; she didn’t have the energy to deal with his junk.

He chuckled, leaning down and getting eye-level with her. Jax was bored, yes, but he didn’t want to see Pomni so down. Might as well try and cheer her up. “Aww, c’mon Pom-Pom! Try a smile; it won’t kill ya!” He reached out, trying to poke her side in an attempt to get her to smile. Before he could even get close to her blue side, she gasped softly and jerked away from his hand. Oh…that’ll work.

The look on his face was a dead giveaway to his plan. “Jax, no! I swear, don’t you even think abo-KYAH!” Pomni was cut off by a sharp poke to her stomach, whatever she was trying to say lost in a squeal.

“Oh, I’m doin’ more than think about it~” Jax’s voice was smug as ever, his gloved hands wrapping around her middle and wiggling them into her sides. The bunny crouched down, just so he could whisper in her ear. “Tickle tickle, Pomni~”

Squeaky and bright giggles bubbled out of her, only making Jax’s smirk grow. Pomni was much less amused, kicking and wriggling around in his grip. “Y-youhuhu prihick! Gehet ohoff mehehe!”

“Nah, don’t think I will.” One fun thing the purple rabbit noticed; Pomni was blushing. Really blushing, so brightly that it put the circles already on her cheeks to shame. So, of course, he called her out on it.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could blush like that, newbie!” He cooed, making sure to poke up and down her ribs as he spoke. “Thought bright red was crybaby’s thing, but you go girl~”

“Sh-shuhut uhuhuhup!” The bells on Pomni’s hat jingled with every sharp jolt and tug, only making the scene funnier. Jax was thoroughly enjoying himself; he had maintained his vibe while also making Pomni smile. True, he was being a bitch about it, but it was working.

Wanting to try something else, Jax clamped both hands firmly on her sides, giving them a nice squeeze. Nothing could’ve readied him for what happened next. “Jahahax! Wouhuld you- *squeak*”

Suddenly, his hands stopped moving, giving her a quick breather as the shock and amusement set in. After a few seconds, a loud bark of laughter escaped him, his voice more playful than it had been the whole time. “No *sproing*-ing way… You squeak?!”

Without any further warning, he dug into her sides, rapidly squeezing them in the hopes of more squeaks. “J- *squeak* COHOHohome ohon! Quihihit- *squeak* JAHAX!” The sound was almost like a dog toy’s squeaker; it endlessly amused Jax, leaving the rabbit wanting more and more of the adorable sound.

“This has gotta be my favorite quirk of yours, squeaky-toy!” He squeezed and poked along her sides, sneaking a quick rib scribble in every few seconds. Best day ever…

“P-PLEHEHE- *squeak* NOHO! JAHAX!” While he was more than enjoying the squeaks and laughter, he could tell Pomni was wearing out. Not wanting to potentially get on Ragatha’s very-bad side, he stopped squeezing the jester. “Alright, alright, no more squeezes. That was fun, though~”

Pomni went almost limp in his arms, trying to catch her breath. She looked up at him expectantly, expecting to be released. Jax only laughed at her expression. “Oh, newbie, no. I never said I was done~” The ever-growing blush on her cheeks made him smile wider, his almost haughty confidence growing.

He tested out her neck, smirking at the surprised giggles he received. “You’re just a walking tickle-spot, aren’t ya? There anywhere you ain’t ticklish?” Deciding to be a bit merciful, he kept the tickling to light scratches, exploring the area.

Much to his surprise, Pomni’s giggles softened, her body going almost slack against his. Jax wondered if he’d managed to kill her for a second, but he soon realized that she was just…enjoying it. Pomni wasn’t trying to push at his hands anymore; she just grabbed his wrists and loosely hung on.

“Aww, Pomni! You like this, don’t ya~?” He continued lightly tickling underneath her chin and the front of her neck, basking in the lazy giggles and lax squeals he got. Jax had no idea how someone could practically melt from getting tickled, but he wasn’t gonna question it.

“Ihihihi- shuhuhut ihit…” Pomni could’ve had a better response, but she was too comfy to try. While he was still tickling her, it felt much more relaxing and nice in that spot. She could’ve stayed there all day…

Quickly realizing the jester was about to fall asleep on him, Jax stopped and patted her back. Pomni took a few shaky breaths, residual giggles still squeaking out in her daze. The bunny boy just chuckled, trying to help her wake up, in a sense. “You’re good, I’m done, wakey-wakey.”

Pomni was tired, though, and feeling like mild revenge. She just leaned into the purple boy, closing her eyes and letting the sleepy relaxation take over; girl was out in seconds.

“...Pomni?” Jax’s smirk slowly fell, his brow-area bunching. She hadn’t moved in a few seconds, though he could see her breathing. Did she… That little-

Seeing her asleep on him felt strangely similar to a kitten napping there. It felt wrong to move… “*boing* it…”

Hopefully Ragatha and Gangle will be done soon…

#kasey's fruit shop #tadc tickle #lee!pomni #ler!jax #ticklish!pomni #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #fruit shop event #the amazing digital circus tickle #tadc #tadc jax #tadc pomni #the amazing digital circus

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nostalgiclittlespace · 5 months ago

Note

Request: Care giver! Lilith and little! Lucifer (Hazbin hotel)

Plot: Lucifer being in little space and Lilith taking care of her baby (he’d be 0-2 years old), just lots of fluff please 💕

Thanks so much for the ask, anon! Sorry for the short delay in getting this out, but I hope you enjoy! (Also it seems like all of my agere fics end with sleepy cuddles 😭 aka Self indulgence. Luci was also very neurodivergent coded. Again, self indulgence)

SFW AGE REGRESSION FIC, DNI IF KINK, NSFW, PROSHIP, OR SIMILAR. DO NOT REPOST.

Title: The Cutest King of Hell

Word Count: 1249

Pairing: CG! Lilith x Little! Lucifer

Description: Playtime and a picnic for Little Luci! (Fluff!)

The Cutest King of Hell

Lucifer. A daring, intelligent, cunning creature. The first to introduce evil and disobedience to the so perfect human kind. He had once been an angel, hand-crafted by God, and cast away from his first home. But now, he was a king, the most powerful being in Hell…

But he also happened to be the cutest.

Lilith huffed affectionately as Lucifer pushed his rubber ducks along the floor. Laying on his stomach, pacifier between his lips, white and yellow onesie equipped–no one could argue that he wasn’t just the sweetest, most innocent being Hell had ever seen.

Especially not Lilith.

She too sat on the floor, pushing the rubber ducks back towards Lucifer, as if they were swimming back down the lake of his pale blue playmat. There were many other creatures along for the adventure too of course. Some frogs, fish, and even a couple plastic dinosaurs had made it into Lucifer’s imaginary world.

Lilith knew all about the fallen angel’s imagination and creativity of course. Perhaps it was the thing she adored most about him. He could create infinite stories, creatures, and worlds in that perfect mind of his. Even when regressed as young as this, he managed to maintain a clear enough objective in his play. If his babbling was anything to go by, the ducks were meeting the dinos and toads for a picnic on a faraway island. Called Ducky Island of course.

“What’s the duck say, Luci?” Lilith quizzed with a smile as she pushed one towards him to join the other rubber figures at their meet-up.

“Qwak!” the baby exclaimed, pushing it along. “Qwak, qwak, qwak!”

Though the mimicry was muffled by the silicone in his mouth, his confidence and pride in the answer was evident by his eyes crinkling into a smile.

“That’s right,” Lilith smiled as well.

The Queen of Hell reached for the toy bin, where they kept all of Lucifer’s play toys. FIshing around, it only took a moment for her fingers to land on yet another duckling.

“Here’s James Pond. Is he going to the party too?”

“Yeah!” Luci giggled. “Swim, swim, swim.”

“Off he goes, swimming and swimming,” Lilith agreed, pushing the tuxedo-wearing rubber duck in a circle then towards Lucifer.

Lucifer took over, gliding the duck in smooth patterns across the playmat. Lilith watched, enjoying the play’s serenity. Hell, a place of violence and punishment, didn’t see moments as simple as this. If she were to simply step onto her doorstep, blood, swears, and devastation would greet her. Inside however, in the nursery she had designed to protect from the horrors, the R-rated nonsense wouldn’t exist. Here, the most complicated thing was figuring out how to keep Lucifer entertained for more than ten minutes.

“Looks like that picnic needs some food, Luci,” Lilith remarked, pointing to the congregation at ‘Ducky Island.’ “What would they like to eat?”

“Apple,” Lucifer replied, lining up several frogs with the other guests.

“How about apples with peanut butter?” Lilith suggested.

“Yummy! And cookies?”

“Of course. Would you like to help me get it?”

“Mhm!”

Lucifer smiled behind his pacifier, placing the very last duck at the picnic gathering. Then, using his hands for balance, he pushed himself to his feet with the grace of a baby deer.

Lilith stood along with him, borrowing the elegance of a great stag. Lucifer immediately grabbed her hand. Holding himself close to her, he lightly leaned into her side for balance. Lilith took it in stride, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as they ambled towards the kitchen.

The plush carpet beneath their feet, the perfect crimson walls, and the occasional abandoned toy paved the way through the castle. Lucifer’s babbling filled the royals’ desolate hallways. An innocent, adorable sound, a stark contrast to the endless curses that would envelop anywhere else in Hell.

Soon, Lucifer and Lilith arrived at the kitchen. Like the nursery, it held all Lucifer’s essentials. Baby bottles lined the countertops. Several sippy cups and plastic plates had been abandoned in the sink to be washed.

“Let’s get your picnic and bring it back to Ducky Island,” Lilith said.

Even if he would inevitably make a mess of crumbs and peanut butter on his playmat, seeing the joy Hell’s little king derived from his picnics and play made the mess worth it.

So, Lilith grabbed a couple apples from the pantry, along with a jar of peanut butter and a package of his favorite cookies. Lucifer watched with big eyes and a smile beneath his pacifier. He already extended his hands, silently requesting a sweet treat.

“Not until you finish your healthy food,” Lilith chastised lightly, tapping his nose playfully. “Come on, let’s get your picnic ready.

Luckily, Lucifer wouldn’t have to wait long. Within a minute, Lilith had sliced the apples and arranged them in the shape of a swan. Luci’s eyes grew wide and lustered as he watched the snack take shape. With a scoop of peanut butter plopped beside it, it was ready to be enjoyed.

(The cookies, despite some pouting, remained in their box for now.)

Revitalized by the prospect of a delicious snack, Lucifer tugged on her hand, pulling her towards the nursery. He was already babbling about how all his duckies would be thrilled to see the apple duck she had created. Actually, it was a swan, but she didn’t bother correcting him; not only would it be pointless, his cuteness was too much to even remotely diminish.

As soon as they arrived at the playroom, Lucifer broke free from her hand holding; he rushed back to his toys on loose, uncoordinated steps. He plopped down right in front of the ducks and dinosaurs, then popped his pacifier out of his mouth. Mumbling incoherently, he patted his hand on the spot behind him–clearly demanding that snack time begins.

“Yes, I’m coming,” Lilith smiled, placing the dish on the mat beside him.

Happily, Lucifer snatched an apple slice. He took a bite before showing it to his toys. He continued his baby-talk, and made dramatized munching sounds as his toys also digged into their lunch. Lilith also may have stolen a couple sweet slices.

As predicted, peanut butter stickiness covered the mat. Apple juice dripped off Luci’s chin. Once the cookies were brought out, an ungodly amount of crumbs covered his onesie. Nonetheless, the endearing giggles made the mess seem small enough. As the snack slowly disappeared, Luci’s energy did the same. He yawned, scratching his eyes as his sluggish a hands and slurring babbles poked at his toys. Lilith, knowing naptime would soon follow, strode from her place on the floor over to the nightstand, where she wound his music box. By the time Lucifer had noticed she had temporarily left his side, the gentle notes already drifted through the nursery.

Lucifer stared up her, taking long and slow blinks as she scooped him off the floor. It seemed that playtime had sapped all his energy. Duckling picnics were very tiring work after all. As soon as his pacifier was replaced in his mouth, his head rested on her shoulder. The sound music box would last long enough to get the little king to sleep. But not without his lullaby added onto it. Soft lyrics danced with the ringing song.

“More than anything, more th anything, I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything. More than anything, more than anything, need you to know I love you more than anything.”

And every word was true.

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year ago

Note

Would you write a smut fic with ghost x dom reader x soap??(reader can be fem or gn and make both boys submissive maybe a moment where they fuck each other and the reader watches them and controls them).IDK WRITE IT HOWEVER YOU IMAGINE IT. I just dont have the skill to write so i am requesting it here.I hope its not weird.

I got you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Ghost x Dom!Reader x Soap

Ghost and Soap find themselves crushing on the same woman on their team, a friendly bout between two comrades to see who you'll choose, only your answer's not one they'd expected to hear.

NSFW 18+, Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, very little plot, MMF, P in V sex, Tons of Teasing, Steamy Makeouts, Groping, Grinding, Double-Penetration, Anal, Ceampie, Explicit Description, Graphic Language, Dom!Reader, Sub!Soap, Sub!Ghost, Sexual Tension, Some Ghostsoap moments as well, Playful Banter, Bickering, Flirting, Build-Up, Jealousy, Soap and Ghost are fighting over the same girl, but it's friendly competition, ends in a three way too so, will do more proofreading I promise!

WC: 7k ~

Author's Note: This took me way longer to type than it probably should have. I hope it makes for a good read. It's total nonsense, and probably not very realistic (though I do try). It's not exactly like the anon, I'm sorry! But hopefully, it's still good. Please, please, please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading my things!

Masterlist

The front door shut close, leaving the living room just a bit more silent now that its previous company had just departed. You look back towards your remaining two house guests, the smile already unable to stop from forming on your face. You'd been hoping for some alone time with both Ghost and Soap, and it seems fate would smile on you tonight, for now, you had both of them here.

You invited the whole team back over to your place for the weekend, after having just come back from an op with both Price and Gaz, which lasted damn near over a month. The whole thing had been rather uneventful, to say the least; some reconnaissance and leads which went mostly nowhere (well, nowhere for your team; Laswell definitely had a heyday from the sound of things).

With how mind-numbingly dull the whole assignment turned out to be, everyone couldn't be happier to finally sit back and relax with some drinks and good company once back home. All night you spent recapping the events of the mission, including all the monotony which had conspired.

At one point, the most entertainment you could find out there had been both you and Gaz slowly "misplacing" Price's things -- unimportant items that wouldn't do any harm if left unnoticed. You had bets on how long it'd take for him to notice things slowly going missing everyday.

Surprisingly, you nearly got away with it for a whole week, until one morning when he finally questioned the funny look you two had on your faces when he'd been scratching his head, completely perplexed by the absence of his things. Price was in a better mood retelling the story than he had been in the moment.

Eventually, everyone started to disperse as the night went on -- Price got tired and left first, maybe an hour after that Gaz called it a night as well. Once they'd left, you found yourself in your living room with the only two mates you'd been thinking about all day, Ghost and Soap.

Only unbeknownst to both you and each other, both men had deliberately been trying to stick around, having shared the sentiment in wanting some long-awaited alone time with you... except the night keeps getting later, and they both keep giving each other increasingly odd looks, impatiently waiting for the other to leave so they could finally make a move on you.

Both Ghost and Soap have wanted you for a long time now, longer than either men cared to admit. Funnily enough, it was Ghost who'd caught feelings first.

It came to him as randomly as a Tuesday morning. You were just doing what you normally do. However, it had been your mundane actions that somehow drew him in initially. How you go about life with a smile and good attitude, the way you look at him when you found something funny, and the slight lilt to your voice when you talk and get excited. He would feel a lucky man indeed to be yours.

However, Soap had been the one to be more upfront about his interest in you, after developing feelings of his own. The Sergeant's likings to you came suddenly and without warning, but once they'd developed, it couldn't be more obvious that he was down BAD.

More often than not was he finding little excuses to touch you, whether it be a passing hand on the small of your back when squeezing by, or a congratulatory hug after a successful mission. Soap's suave charisma made it easy to do. And with the touching, it was always followed by some sly little line that would have you blushing and pulling at the fabric of your sleeve all shy-like.

He's slowly ramped the flirting up the more time passes, and Ghost knows if he doesn't at least say something now, then it won't be long before Soap takes the chance himself. Tonight had felt a perfect enough opportunity to finally make some waves, though, Soap was fast proving to be a formidable opponent.

"Jeez!" You stretch your hands over your head and yawn dramatically, both men's eyes luring a bit longer than they should have on you as you did so. "I didn't realize how late it was getting."

"Aye, same," Soap lets out a little yawn as well, making himself more comfy on your couch. "You don't mind though, no?"

"Not at all," you say. If only they knew how many nights you've spent letting one of the two men be your idle bedtime fancies into slumber. Wondering what it was they could be doing at that moment in time, and if they'd been thinking of you too. "I missed you guys."

"Aw, we missed you too, lass," Soap smiles at you, before his gaze drops over to Ghost's, who'd begun to glare.

He often forgoes the mask in more domestic environments like this with the team, the others having already seen him before. Though it didn't stop the man from forgetting not to wear his emotions on his face like he still had one on. You thought his eyes were expressive, but little had you all known it was only the tip of the iceberg.

Keeping calm and remaining stoic in combat is one thing, however, anger and disapproval came easy to him, in which case he rivaled for having the worst poker face you'd ever seen.

The Sergeant had taken this fouled expression for disagreement in his statement, even as the look had been for an entirely different reason altogether. Soap merely goes on, "Or, I missed you at least. Ghost might feel differently."

Bastard. Putting him on the spot like this; Ghost almost chuckles, the cheeky fuck. He knew what Soap was trying to do: subtly make himself look better in your eyes so that you choose him over the other.

Had he known better, Ghost would think Soap might actually be aware of the lieutenant's crush on you, by the way he smirked in his direction after saying it. He admits he hadn't expected Soap to partake in such petty games either; then again, this was a first, the two of them liking the same woman like this.

If this is how he plays, then Ghost thought only one thing -- Game on.

"Oh I'm sure you missed me too," you stand up from the couch now, twirling over to face him. "Right, Si'?"

"And then some, love," Ghost says.

Your smile brightens, and the man is ashamed to say that it gives him the warm fuzzies in these late hours. The way the living room lighting curved over your neck had also been a sight worth eliciting something deep within him.

Ghost takes a quick glance over at Soap, catching his less-than-excited reaction to the lieutenant's successful line. He has to remember not to grow too expressive at that moment. Not with you here at least.

You excuse yourself to the restroom shortly after, having paid no mind to the growing tension between your comrades. You'd all but taken the soothing atmosphere with you, leaving instead an awkward aura Ghost and Soap willfully drowned themselves in.

It's Ghost who speaks first, his dark eyes having watched your backside make its way down the hall and round the corner. The more drink he had in him, the less subtle his staring grew. Soap has noticed as much tonight especially.

"It's gettin' rather late." Ghost straightens up in his seat before finishing off his Bourbon and placing it back down on the coffee table. "Damn near one in the a.m. Yet you look proper cozy, mate."

"Aye, I am," Soap says rather proudly, further making his point by getting comfortable on the couch and taking another swig of his tequila. "Been too long since I been 'ere. Was startin' to miss layin' on the ol' thing," he rubs the cushion as though he were petting an old dog.

Ghost leans back in his seat now. "You stay over this late often, then?"

Soap pauses, having to double take that question, until his blue eyes fell on Ghost's brown ones, and he saw clearly what he was asking him.

He asks the man right back, "Do you, mate?"

A cocky little grin forms on the Scotsman's face. Had Ghost not been so wrapped up in you, it might have brought him to a pause there. Soap always did have a nice smile.

Soap didn't have to be a genius to know Ghost liked you though; he goes all but slack-jaw anytime you walk by him. Not to mention it wasn't a common thing for Ghost to be the one sticking around late during a get-together. He's normally the first to call it a night, in fact.

Only tonight, that hadn't been the case for him at all. No, Ghost was as planted in his chair as Soap was; they both might as well have sprouted roots. And they both had enough drink to muster up the right amount of bravado needed to keep this sudden, little interrogation going.

"I asked you first, Johnny," Ghost says, his deep voice laced with something more playfully cunning.

"And I answered you," Soap teases back.

"With a question."

"It's still an answer, no?"

Now Soap was just being deliberately obtuse. Ever since he knew he could do it, Soap's enjoyed pushing the lieutenant's buttons and getting a rile out of him. It's only increased tenfold over the last year, not that Ghost has tried to stop him.

Ghost leans forward now, resting his arms on his knees and furrowing his brow. "A'right, out with it, then," he says. "What's your game 'ere?"

Soap's brow furrows rather facetiously. '"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Don’t play dumb Johnny." The playful tone Ghost once used before has now since cooled, growing darker. "You know wha' I'm askin'."

Soap merely smirks, resting his arm back against the couch. "The same game you're playing, yeah?"

"And what game is that, Johnny?"

Soap can't help but laugh now, growing more and more cocky with each loaded exchange. On a normal day, Ghost might manage to intimidate the Sergeant every so often with his sheer presence, let alone his words. However, when it comes to women, Soap couldn't feel more in his element, especially up against his superior.

"One I'll beat you in."

Now it's Ghost's turn to have a laugh. A subtle thing, trapped beneath the burliness of his chest, though its deep rumble is audible enough, having warmed the Scotsman's cheeks at the sound.

"I doubt that," Ghost says.

"You underestimate my charm L.T."

Soap puckers his lips and kisses the air between the two men mockingly. As much as Ghost tried to hide it, the sight had made the air catch in his throat for a second. It's that usual, competitive nature about the Sergeant that really gets Ghost's blood pumping during these mutual bouts of bickering.

"My last statement still stands," Ghost chuckles. "So what? You thought I'd leave and you two would just go at it then?"

"I wouldn't say it like that," Soap says. "...But I was hoping to have some alone time with her, yes."

"And you figured on waitin' for the rest of us to vacate before making a move..." Ghost shrugs with affirmation. "...Clever man."

"Yeah, well, what about you?" Soap asks. "Clearly we're both still here for the same reason. What's your "game", L.T.?"

"It's not your concern."

Soap groans, sinking back in his seat, though he hadn't been surprised by his response. "Suppose it isn't, then," he says. "It's hers."

"That's right," Ghost agrees. "We can't both have her."

"Can't we?"

Ghost brings his eyes forward to Soap's, having thought his comment been a mere joke. However, once their gazes matched, Ghost could see that his Sergeant was dead serious.

Personally, Soap's never been opposed to the idea of a threesome. He'd even be lying if he said he hadn't fantasized about it from time to time, as boyish as it sounds. Adding Ghost into that equation hadn't tripped him up much in the slightest either; Lord knows the lieutenant would be next on Soap's list if you weren't at the top of it already.

Still, Ghost had a hard time even picturing a scenario where something like that could happen, let alone with all three of you. No doubt the man had been interested in you, and for a while, he'd even felt something for Soap as well, feelings that haven't necessarily gone away.

Something with all three of you would no doubt be perfect, however, it just seemed...

"Let's be real here, Johnny." Ghost leaves it at that.

"Suit yourself," Soap merely shrugs, before a light bulb moment suddenly lets off in his eyes. "How about we bring this to the source then? Hey Y/N!"

"Soap-"

"Oi, calm down, mate," he smiles at him. "No point in beatin' 'round the bush, aye?"

You reemerge from around the corner, having heard their voices vaguely through your door this entire time, but not being able to put full words together. Not without having your ear pressed to the wall. From the "uh-oh" look you had on your face, though, something told the two men you were already preparing for them to say something crazy.

"What's up?"

Soap gives Ghost a final look, waiting to see if the man will protest. However, when he sees that he doesn't speak, Soap grins, turning back to you.

"If you had to pick between Ghost and I, who're you choosin'?"

"Pick for what?" you ask, certainly needing clarification. "For battle?"

Soap bursts out laughing, just now feeling how awkward it was going to be explaining this to you. "No," he says. "Like if you had to pick one of us to... I don't know, go out on a date with, who would you pick?"

You keep smiling at Soap like he's joking, waiting to hear him laugh, but once you see he hasn't budged, you feel your heart begin to race.

Your eyes grow wide, now suddenly embarrassed to have the spotlight on you. "You're seriously asking?"

Soap nods. "I am."

You look over at Ghost now. Surely this was just another one of Soap's antics. "You too?"

Ghost shrugs. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."

You were hoping he wouldn't say that. But, if they were asking, then may God be your witness as you answer them.

Placing a hand to your chin, you pout to yourself and look back and forth between your teammates, sizing both men up for every physical feature they had to offer.

Your mind immediately goes to the gutter, not being able to help it. You've found them both distractingly good-looking ever since you joined the team, and you've more than thought about this before. Just never in comparison. Or out loud.

Soap looks like he'd be fun to play with -- he's eager, energetic, and even better, open-minded. Not to mention he was cocky too; you always liked a man who could talk his shit and back it up. With those big arms of his, he could just box you in against the bed and pin you down good and firm, as he drills into you, cooing that sweet little accent of his in your ear like he would. It made your body tingle just thinking about it.

And then there was Ghost; if there was any voice you wouldn't mind having growled in your ear while being fucked senseless, it was his. Unlike Soap, you just knew you wouldn't get it rough like you would from Ghost. You've lost count of how many times you've caught yourself gawking at him during sparring sessions or while out in the field, watching that bulking mass of muscle of his he called a body, manhandle any and everything in his way. Having him do the same to you in a more intimate sense never failed to make the lower parts of yourself start to throb at the thought.

After giving both men a good, long look, you sigh, letting your arms fall back to your sides.

"I can't choose."

"Ah, don't be shy now, lass," Soap says. "If you're worried about hurtin' our feelings-"

"No it's not that," you cut in. "It's just not an easy choice, you know?"

Ghost raises an eyebrow now. "Oh?"

"Oh, don't act all surprised, Simon."

"You like us both then?" Soap asks cautiously.

"I'd say so." You begin to smirk. "Why? What's going on here?"

The two give each other a look, before Ghost goes to explain things to you.

"We're just trying to figure out which one of us has a shot."

"Figures you should be the deciding vote, seeing as you're the subject of interest, lass."

You imagine you look pretty stupid standing at the center of your living room all wide-eyed like you do, but frankly, this just feels too good to be true. It hadn't been one of them that was supposedly into you, but both of them. If you could do a backflip, you'd do twelve right now, no questions asked.

But before you get head over heels about this, "So you're saying you both want me then?"

"In more ways than one, darlin'," Soap teases.

You glance over at Ghost this time, having taken note of his sudden silence. "You too, Simon?"

He hadn't necessarily been prepared to confess his feelings to you, not like this, and much less in front of an opposing audience. Still, Ghost wouldn't have his own Sergeant show him up so easily. Plus, the way your eyes lured at him this whole time had a chill running down his spine, making it hard to concentrate. So he nods, "That's right."

A devilish smile slowly creeps over your lips.

"Well, can't I just have you both?"

"Aye, that's what I'm sayin'!"

"Problem solved then, right?" You laugh.

"If only," Soap says. "Ghost didn't seem up for it when I brought it up earlier-"

"You puttin' words in my mouth now, Johnny." Ghost cuts in.

"Oh, don't switch up now L.T.-"

"Boys," you cut in before they've started going back in forth again, a playful smile still painting your lips. You were eating this up, if you were being honest. "Relax," you say. "We can... get to the bottom of this, yeah?"

Both your eyes shift over to Ghost, who now sits awkwardly to himself on the couch, hands resting motionless on his large lap.

"Well Simon?" You ask him. "Are you down?"

"I'm not one for sharing, love," Ghost coos at you.

You slowly make your way over to the lieutenant, your eyes looming over him like a panther that's just found its next meal. Ghost feels himself hold his breath, watching as you've paused just in front of him, your back now facing Soap, though you can feel his eyes on your backside, taking in the nice view of you, and feeling himself grow harder in his pants.

This close, having smelt your scent on the way over, and felt the remnants of your breath in the air between you two, Ghost could feel his mind beginning to slip out from itself, heading into dangerous territories.

He could see in your eyes you knew exactly what you were doing too. Exactly what you wanted to do. The ball was in your park, and that made you in charge from this point on. The only thing they needed to do now was listen. And Ghost was sitting at the edge of his seat, waiting to hear you.

"Come on, Si'," you say so playfully. "Don't be greedy."

Ghost merely scoffs, an awkward smile forming. "How can I not?"

As though to then challenge the man, you step even closer, placing yourself right at the brink between his legs, having now rested your dainty hands over his muscular thighs like a ledge to lean on. The man can't even stop himself from letting his hands rest on your hips, your body naturally shifting just a little closer as he's done it. Every little thing you did had him ready to tear you out of your clothes and devour you whole.

No, the man knows he's too greedy for his own good. If he had even the smallest taste of you, he wouldn't want your attention on no one other than him. Howbeit, looking back over towards the Sergeant only made him want to throw that caution out the window.

Soap doesn't see the man staring daggers into him at first; his blue eyes have been glued to your ass since you turned your back to him. For the short second he does glance up at the lieutenant, he grins daringly. Taunting him to go home and tuck tail so he could have you all to himself instead. Make this easier for him tonight.

That's just what Soap wants, Ghost thought. Here the opportunity was now to have you, and he's fumbling it away all because he feels he can't share with Soap. Saying it again in his head like that gets him thinking though. If that's the only hurdle between him and you fucking, then it seemed easy enough to step over.

He won't back down that easily, even if he has to "share" you. If you want him like he wants you, then you'll have him, however way you like, just as he'll have you.

Ghost brings his hands down and lets his fingers graze your ass just enough for the Sergeant to see since he couldn't keep his eyes off you. Sickly enough, he hopes the sight is driving the Scot mad. God knows Ghost feels mad enough himself.

The minute you've felt his touch on you, you hum pleasantly, stepping even closer, so that he could take better hold of your bottom and have your small body caged between his large arms and legs like walls, his face only inches or so from yours.

Ghost could feel himself getting more comfortable with the idea of sharing. At least when he had you to himself like this. Especially with how your hands have begun to leisurely rest over his shoulders now, keeping the man just as close.

"I knew you'd come around," you praise, your words now having the man feeling giddy, ready to take them to further levels.

"Just takes the right convincing," he hums.

"I'm feelin' awfully lonely back 'ere," Soap chimes in, doing the best he could not to sink so low as to start touching himself before being given the OK by you first, wanting to hear the words leave your pretty, little mouth. Even as his cock was already throbbing in his pants for some relief.

You merely chuckle, cocking your head back to look at the Sergeant. "I haven't forgotten about you, don't worry," you coo. "You just be a good little lad and wait a moment, yeah?"

Though he wanted to protest, step over, and take you all for himself, Soap did as you told him to and stayed put, continuing to let his eyes have their way with the parts of your body he's all but only been able to steal quick glances at before. He could only hope his patience would be rewarded; and so long as you keep talking to him like you are now, he'll wait until the sun rises if he has to.

You turn your attention back to Ghost, not having forgotten about his hands which oh so nonchalantly groped the cheeks of your ass, kneading and massaging his fingers into the backs of your thighs. He wanted nothing more than to keep letting his hands roam until they've found the center of you, his mind already playing the short gasps and moans you'd make with his fingers knuckle deep in you.

He knew you'd only make him regret it if he so much as did anything without your say-so first.

You reveled at seeing both men so eager and receptive to listen, given how fast this all went down. Frankly, it's got your head spinning so fast that you feel like you've just been drugged. However, rather than let that adrenaline crumble you down, you instead use it as chaotic fuel to your lustful actions.

You climb onto Ghost's lap like a backward chair, straddling him down with your thighs and rocking yourself against him. As he's felt you grind generously so, a tattered breath escapes his lips. Broken and faint. His expression does all it can do to remain as still as possible, only to fail, as his gaze lowers, bouncing between your eyes and lips.

Having his hands grow a mind of their own, Ghost lets them slide to your back, encouraging you to keep moving against him, which you do gladly, the lust bubbling down your lower half like a chemical reaction.

"Fuck, love," Ghost huffs out. "You're really takin' me for a ride right now, aren't you?"

"Hope you're buckled in," you tease, following it with another smooth sway of your hips, giving the man a deep grind hard enough to leave him breathing heavy.

Just when he's about ready to kiss you, you look back over at Soap, smiling. Your index finger lifts innocently, beckoning the man. "Come along now, big boy," you say.

You don't have to tell him twice.

In a matter of seconds, the man is behind you, towering over you and keeping you now sandwiched between both him and Ghost.

When you see they're both waiting on your next word, you chuckle to yourself, the power now starting to go to your head. To think, you had two of the deadliest men on your team damn near drooling, ready to fuck you. How could you not let it get to your head?

"Well," you give both men a final lurid, look, and say, "I'm waiting."

Soap and Ghost exchange wary looks, suddenly unsure of what to do with themselves now that they had you like this. Evidently, despite you already sitting on the lieutenant's lap, it's Soap who swoops in for the kiss first.

You feel his large hand push past your hair and curve around your jaw, his fingers grazing your neck before he's cocked your head back to give you a proper eye-fucking, before he's leaned down and smacked his mouth against yours, Ghost be damned.

You wiggle on Ghost's lap, your legs tightening over his thighs in an attempt to keep balance as the Sergeant all but swallowed you whole, his hands cupping around your face, keeping you from escaping.

Using the Sergeant as further support, you stretch your arms over your head and let them rest against Soap's shoulders like a warm wall, your hands cupping his face and keeping him just as pulled in, your tongues trading the taste of each other and your body unconsciously rocking over Ghost's crotch, feeling two sets of arousal brim in you from top to bottom.

Having you bouncing over his cock like this was driving Ghost feral, getting off on just the sight of you. Of course, watching you make precise work with Soap's mouth soon had the lieutenant wanting more, growing impatient waiting for the Sergeant to let up.

Ghost instead lets his hands cup over your breast, groping and massaging them generously through your shirt. His mouth finds your neck bare for his teeth, sinking them in lightly each time before he's left a heated kiss in its place, letting his lips travel down your neck until he's felt his tongue graze your collarbone, complimenting the kissing Soap gave you above.

Your mouth may be occupied by the Sergeant's, but your body belonged to the lieutenant, so long as you continued to bounce on top of him like you were.

He lets one hand leave your breast, sliding his fingers and letting them dig against your clothed skin, until it's ducked between your legs, beginning to fumble with the buttons of your pants.

It's here you've parted your mouth from Soap's, the man looking down at your doe-eyed expression, hungering for more. You see the tinge of excitement that lights up in the sky-blue of his eyes as he watches your hands make their way toward his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it from his waist. If Ghost would have his way with you, then you would have yours with Soap.

Ghost has slipped his hand into your pants just as you've sprung Soap's cock free of its trouser, his large member sitting in your palm like a heavy, third limb. Soap can barely enjoy the sight of you holding him so close before you've let your tongue tease over the head of him, sucking lightly at the tip and tasting the remnants of his precum on your tongue.

Soap lets his head cock back pleasurably, groaning out to himself with a smile. "Ah," he groans, "You're too good to me, Bonnie."

Soap lets his hands rest at the side of your head rather brutishly, lightly nudging your mouth further down onto his cock, his abs tensing as he listened to the light gags you let out. Despite his persistence, you kept control of yourself, making sure that your movements had the man locked into your touch. It hadn't helped that your mind was caught in two places right now.

Ghost let his two fingers massage against your clit as though he were tasked with his life to see the job done properly. The tips of his fingers dip between your folds and tease your hole, before letting your slick lubricate him, soon to return rubbing against your bud in ways that made the entire lower half of your body feel sore with lust.

And it hadn't been enough to have his hand down your pants making a ruined mess of you. Ghost's other hand very much continued to pluck and roll at your nipple, having slipped beneath your shirt at some point during the interaction, holding against you as you rocked yourself against his hand, your moans humming over the Sergeant's cock and sending a wave of euphoria down him as well.

With one hand still free, you decide it's time that Ghost enjoys himself as well. He watches your single hand with hungry eyes, slightly shaken and erratic from both his fingering and Soap's cock a mere inch away from hitting the back of your throat, the man's groans of approval like music to your ears. Your hand travels down to his belt and undoes it with ease before you've slipped him free of his jeans as well, your fingers taking in the very shape of him.

Your thumb grazes his dripping tip, letting it slick down his shaft before you've begun to pump at him, feeling the man's body tense at your touch. It makes his fingers against your clit lose their rhythm, but only momentarily.

"Fuckin' hell," he breathes out. "Just like tha', love."

The Sergeant glances down at the lieutenant, catching his dazed eyes locked on your bobbing mouth, taking in a full review of your work on the Sergeant's cock.

He could see it in the man's eyes, he was jealous, envious that he had your mouth all to himself while he had to settle for your hand. Granted your fingers danced about his shaft like an angel in her craft, though even he couldn't resist the allure that was watching your saliva dribble down his subordinate's cock, imagining the warmth of your throat struggling to take his entire length. You've felt his cock throb in your hands just at the thought, his hips faintly chasing your purposefully coy grip on him.

Soap chuckles, not being used to seeing his superior so awestruck and drunk with lust, hearing all sorts of noises and groans from the man he could never have imagined.

"Enjoyin' the show there, L.T.?" Soap teases, quickly following it by readjusting his hand on the side of your face, taking light hold of you to help further steady your already perfect rhythm.

In response, Ghost slips a third finger in you, listening to the carnal noises your cunt made at each thrust of his fingers, watching your mouth twitch over the Sergeant, momentarily struggling to suck him off through the moans that clawed out of you. That gets you to put more attention back on Ghost, your hand taking better hold of his cock and dancing over the large girth of him, keeping a steady motion until you've seen the wave-like rising and falling of his chest.

Through his light panting, Ghost taunts, "Got the best seat in the house, Johnny."

"Oh, is tha' righ', mate?" Soap licks his lips, and lets his eyes drop noticeably down to the lieutenant's cock, watching your single hand continue to pump at him, barely able to hold it all in one hand. It makes the Sergeant let out a teasing groan. "Shall we put it to the test then, L.T.?"

Ghost stares at the Sergeant, hungry for the man just as much as he starved for you.

"Be my guest, Johnny."

Hearing the two go back and forth had you giddy to see what both men had in store for each other. However, it had you just as eager to join in on the fray yourself.

After what felt like an eternity of having your drool dribble itself over the Sergeant's cock, you let your lips part from him, and with your other hand, remove yourself from Ghost as well, giggling at their kicked-puppy-dog expressions.

"I have a better idea," you say. You reach for the bottom of your shirt before pulling it over your head and discarding it at the edge of the couch. Once removed, both men fell on the same page rather quickly.

Soap's hands hastily fumbled at the clasp of your bra, before the fabric has fallen loose and your chest now lay bare for Ghost's full perusal. He hardly any time to truly enjoy it before you've momentarily climbed from him to rid yourself of the rest of your clothing, now standing a dripping, naked beauty of a woman.

Both men could do nothing more but stare, hands subconsciously stroking oneselves at the sight of you.

"Now," you say. "I can't have you both feeling so left out while the other fucks me."

"It would be cruel," Ghost quips gruffly, his eyes having been glued to your chest since he's seen your breast bounce so freely before him.

You step back over to Ghost, retaking your place over his lap and letting his cock rest thick beneath you, your sopping folds hugging warmly over him, sending a shiver down his entire body. You grind slowly, letting your fluids paint him, and wetting yourself good for what you were dying to have.

Ghost leans in, letting his hand rest on the small of your back and his lips caress the shell of your ear. "This is much crueler," he whispers. His hands immediately cupped over your breast again, recapturing the feeling of you and letting his hips lightly rock, chasing every part of you he could.

You lean forward until you've felt his nose brush the tip of yours and his breath tickle your lips.

"Don't get pouty now, Si'," you coo.

"Aye," Soap chimes in. "You're the one goin' first."

You look over at Soap playfully, leaning forward to pull him back in close by the hem of his shirt.

"I already told you two not to be greedy," you let your hand retake hold of him, your fingers curving over his girthy length gently. It shuts him up quickly, coming back in so closely to you both. "You two can share."

"What's your plan then, love?" Ghost asks, already having let his hand dive back down between your legs, gripping over his cock so the tip of his head could tease at your hole, wetness and slick coating you both.

You take your hand and you rub it against yourself, making sure every bit of your parts below had been lubed. You bring that same, dripping hand back up to Soap, before dressing his cock with your warm fluids, massaging the man, and feeling the grooves of his veins against your fingers throb.

"Now be a good little spotter and watch my back," you say playfully, before letting your eyes dip back down to Ghost. "I think the lieutenant's got the front covered."

Soap chuckles to himself, before you've felt his large hands rest gently against your bare shoulders, his callous fingers running down slowly to take a hefty handful of your ass, gripping the cheek tightly. He spreads you roughly, his eyes growing large at the sight of you, already knowing his cock would be more than a tight fit for you and devilishly longing for it.

As you've felt Soap rub his cock between your ass, letting your cheeks hug him, his hand digging possessively into your skin, you feel Ghost's hand lock over your neck, holding you there gently in front of him. That way your eyes could stay on him as his cock continued to gently nudge at your hole, only a single thrust away from finally entering you.

"You sure you can take us both?" Ghost asks.

"Wouldn't want to hurt you, lass," Soap adds in.

You position yourself better over Ghost, ready to retake your seat.

"I can handle myself, boys," you say. "Now, show me who wants it more."

You lower yourself on Ghost's cocks, feeling your folds begin to stretch and the grooves of your walls run by every vein and shape of him. It's too much at first, and he can see it in your wincing face, however, you keep lowering yourself, powering through that initial pain and instead letting that pressure boil in you like nothing you've ever felt before. It was overwhelming, and it had your lips quivering with silent moans already.

Just as you've felt your pussy start to take the full length of him, you've felt Soap tease at your second hole, his cock rubbing playfully at you, the tip dipping in ever so slightly, giving you a completely new feeling altogether. His cock stretches you just as much as Ghost's, both men easing your body to the shape of them all at once, and both waves of pleasure complimenting each other in ways that had your body shaking over them, unable to string words together.

"Fuckin' Christ, you're tight, Bonnie," Soap groans.

"Don't... stop...," you say desperately, wanting to squash any reluctance they may feel. The pleasure your body ached for was just now beginning to reach its peak. "...I can take it."

Once your body adjusted, it hadn't grown long before this slow easing had turned into an organized attack, both men pounding savagely into you.

You sat, nearly sandwiched between two men, your chest pressed against Ghost's as he hugged you to him, his cock bullying into you powerfully, the base of himself smacking against your pussy at each thrust.

In rhythm, Soap rests his chest against your back, planting kisses at your spine each time he's let himself thrust just a bit deeper inside your ass. Your hole gripped his cock so tightly it nearly pulled at him each time he came out, only to crash another orgasm-inducing thrust into you, both him and Ghost going back in forth like well-trained machines.

"That's right lovey, there you go," Ghost praises you, his breath fanning your ear. "You're takin' us so well."

In the midst of both men's vicious pounding, it felt as though every bit of you all had been entangled in some way. Hands clumsily felt, hugged, and tugged at one another, chests heaving and moans forming an opera within your living room.

When your tongue wasn't dipping itself into Ghost's mouth, then you're head was cocked back, having a few more kisses be stolen from you by Soap. At some points even, when you're face was buried in Ghost's chest attempting to muffle your moans, you've felt both men lean in to keep each other company in the meantime, rough lips pressed harshly to one another in a passionate kiss you only wished to mirror once they've parted.

Mouths part just enough to concentrate on breathing, each gasp of air being halted by yet another thrust from both ends of you.

Both men have felt an animal-like fury come out of them at each orgasm they've pulled, feeling your body tighten over their cocks and your limbs shake with pleasure, drool, and tears leaking from you, your mind completely scrambled after eleven straight minutes of this.

It isn't until Ghost has opened his eyes again, finding your face twisted with pleasure, and seeing the Sergeant's love-drunk expression -- eyes half-lidded with lust, biting his lip -- that Ghost feels himself finally at his end.

His fingers claw harshly into your skin, his pace growing punishable. Seeing the lieutenant move so carnally clicked in the sergeant's mind quickly what that had meant, already being at the brink of a climax himself.

You hug yourself over Ghost's shoulders, your body so exhausted you could pass out right now before they've even finished. Even so, you couldn't get enough of this sensation; this could go on for another hour if they wanted it to.

"...I'm ready for it," you moan. "Give it to me..."

Both men's cocks pulsate in you, your holes being filled to the brim with their cum, as it drips from you sloppily once they've pulled themselves out.

With heavy huffs, everyone in the room falls back onto the couch, taking a moment to themselves to regain their air. You still couldn't believe that just happened... that any of this had happened.

"So," Soap pants out, about ready to crash on your couch again. "Which one of us did'ye think wanted you more?"

You give Soap a sly look, baffled he would even ask you that right now. "I don't know."

Author's Note: The behemoth has been slain! I'm NEVER typing a request that is longer than 3k words ever again (this took me almost a month and a half to type due to my schedule). However, I am open to any requests for prompts with the CoD boys, though preferably none that are straight smut (I'm kind of burnt out on it atm :/).

I do hope you enjoyed this, however, and please feel free to leave a comment or any feedback! Thank you again!

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