#when he looks up i literally fall apart into a million pieces | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ereardon · 1 year ago

Text

She Calls Him Daddy [Bob Floyd x Reader]

DILF Bob Floyd

Summary: Coming home from college for winter break, the last thing you expected was to run into your best friend’s father while out shopping for new lingerie to surprise your fuck buddy with. You had always tried to hide your attraction for Mr. Floyd because he was Anna’s father. But all rules are thrown out when Bob invites you over on Christmas Eve while Anna is at her mother’s house. You’ll never be able to look at your friend’s dad the same way ever again.

Pairing: DILF Bob Floyd x Reader

Warnings: Just pure filth and smut, cursing, age difference, power imbalance

WC: 6K

Your fingers brushed along the array of pastel lace before you paused, reaching out and selecting a hanger.

It was perfect. Silky black straps with delicate lace bra cups that led to a sheer lace middle cut high on the hips in a thong. You smiled. Jonah was going to lose his goddamn mind when he saw you in this.

You turned, instantly colliding with a person who had been right behind you, their back to you, your skimpy bodysuit flying to the floor as you began to fall. But the person you had crashed into reached down instantly, catching you before you absolutely ate shit in the middle of the store floor.

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed as the man’s hands caught your waist, hauling you to standing. “Thank you!”

A gasp left your mouth as you looked up.

“Mr. Floyd.”

“Y/N.” His voice was deep, sultry. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. He leaned down and retrieved the discarded hanger and black lingerie from the floor. But instead of handing it to you, he held it up and examined it.

“I’m, uh, buying it for a friend,” you lied.

Bob Floyd’s blue eyes met yours. His tone was patient, his mouth in a hard line. “Is that so?” he asked. “Not Anna I hope.”

“No, of course not.” At the mention of Anna, your best friend and Bob Floyd’s daughter, you wanted to crumple into a million pieces. You could never tell her that her father had caught you buying lingerie or that you had literally fallen into his arms like a damsel in distress.

Even if it made you ache between your legs. Even if a part of you had been crushing on Mr. Floyd since you were sixteen.

You couldn’t even admit it to yourself that sometimes, when you slept with Jonah, your college fuck buddy, you pictured Bob Floyd’s face when you closed your eyes. Same when you had your vibrator pressed tightly against your clit beneath the covers in the privacy of your dorm single. It was Bob Floyd’s face looming in your mind as you let yourself break apart.

Bob gripped the hanger tightly. He looked at the bodysuit and then at you. You felt like you could melt from the intensity of his gaze, even if it only lasted a second. “That would look good on you,” he said, voice low and you felt your heart beating erratically in your chest. “But this would look better.” He reached out and pulled a bra and panty set from the next rack over. It was a white bra with sheer demi cups and a matching high-waisted thong with a thick waistband and tiny pearls dotting the band. Clipped onto the hanger was a lace trimmed garter.

Words escaped you. Your jaw was practically hanging on the ground.

Bob stepped closer. Somehow, it was just the two of you in the entire store. You realized you never asked why he was in a lingerie and pajama shop, so close to Christmas. Bob leaned one muscular arm against the wall to his left. “Y/N. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You shook your head.

His eyes flitted to the black one piece that you had discarded on the rack. “So why are you buying something like that?” he asked. It was almost condescending, the way he said it. “To impress someone?” Bob added after a moment.

You nodded. “Maybe.”

Bob frowned. “I don’t like it.” Yes, he had made that very clear. Now for the rest of your life you would avoid black lingerie like the plague simply because you knew Bob Floyd didn’t like it.

You wanted to please him. It was sickening how badly you wanted his approval. Perhaps because your own father couldn’t care less where you ran off to on any given day and Bob cared deeply where Anna was at all times. He was a good father. A better father than yours.

Or perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. Like he was trying to memorize you so he could chisel you from marble later.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Bob reached out, brushing your chin with his rough fingertips. You shuddered, need pulsating in your body like a pinball machine. “Don’t be,” he murmured gruffly. “I just don’t like the idea of you getting all dressed up for some boy who doesn’t know how to please you.”

You couldn’t believe that Bob Floyd of all people was looking at you like this. Like he wanted to rip off your clothes. You thought he saw you as a daughter. As just one of Anna’s little friends. He and his wife had gotten divorced nearly ten years ago. You had long known Bob Floyd as simply Anna’s dad. All of the single mothers at your school went crazy for him, but he didn’t give them a second glance. His focus was on Anna and getting her into a good college. But she had done that. She was at Brown. She was happy.

So what was he doing now?

Apparently, he was cornering you in an upscale lingerie boutique two days before Christmas. And the worst part was, you didn’t hate it. You didn’t hate it at all.

“Y/N,” Bob said. “Wait outside. And here, wear this.” He shrugged off his wool coat, draping it over your shoulders. You drowned in it. He was far taller and larger than you and you felt like a little girl wearing her father’s clothing. “I’ll meet you in a minute.”

You did as you were told, stepping out of the store and waiting, impatiently, until Bob returned a few minutes later with two store bags in his hands.

He handed you one and you looked up with shock. “Here.”

“I, um, I can’t.”

Bob slid his hands into his pockets. “Then return it if you want,” he replied. “Or you can come over tomorrow night and I can show you what those boys at Yale never could.”

Your mouth hung open. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

Bob smiled, for the first time during your interaction. “Tomorrow, eight o’clock.” And then he was gone, leaving you standing under the striped awning wearing his heavy coat as he disappeared into the snow.

***

“Isn’t Anna at her mother’s house for Christmas?”

You shook your head, turning down the hall. “No, she was there for Thanksgiving.”

“That’s right,” your mom replied, rubbing her hands together mindlessly as she followed behind you. “Are you sure you want to spend Christmas Eve at her dad’s house? What about our annual pie bake off?”

You sighed, leaning one arm on the wooden door frame to your room. “Mom, please. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, I promise. I never get to see her anymore.”

“I know sweetheart.” She put her hand on your cheek softly. “Well, have fun and be safe.”

She closed the door and you rushed over to your closet, sliding it open and pulling out the bag from the lingerie store. With bated breath, you pulled out the neatly wrapped bundle, breaking the cloth tape seal on the tissue paper.

Inside, just as you had expected, was the white set that Bob Floyd had recommended. Bra, panties, matching garter and thigh highs.

There was also a small white card. You flipped it open.

Merry Christmas, Y/N.

-BF

You couldn’t help but be disappointed. You thought there would be something else. The invitation was to spend the night, wasn’t it? Or had you somehow misinterpreted what he said?

But the lingerie sitting perfectly in the box was a different story. That was the nail in the coffin.

Quickly, you got dressed, zipping your duffle bag shut and bidding goodnight to your parents, promising to text them once you got to Anna’s.

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest for the fifteen minute drive, and you thought you might spontaneously combust the moment you pulled into the familiar driveway. It was hard to unsee the history of your friendship with Anna outlined everywhere you looked.

The two of you tanning on the front lawn in the summers. The curb where you hit your head roller skating and had to get five stitches. How many times had you parked your old car in their driveway, waiting for Anna to slide into the passenger seat? How many times had the two of you snuck out of that house late at night for parties, scantily clad and carrying water bottles full of liquor you had pilfered from Mr. Floyd’s office where he kept his alcohol stash?

You parked the car and leaned back. You were really doing this. You had been thinking about Bob Floyd ever since you were a teenager. Now, you were nineteen. You had slept with other guys. You knew exactly what you were doing.

Which is how you found yourself with an overnight bag in one hand, knocking on the all-too-familiar wooden front door as snow fell softly around you in clumps.

The heavy door swung open. Bob Floyd stood wearing a blue cable knit sweater and a pair of ironed trousers, wool socks, his hair combed back neatly, his wire glasses square on his nose. He smiled. Behind him, the house was warm. It practically glowed. “Y/N,” he said softly.

“Mr. Floyd.”

“Come in,” he said. It was a demand. He grabbed the overnight bag from your hand seamlessly, leading you through the door, one hand on your back as he guided you into the hallway that opened up to the large living room in the back of the house. “I’ll take your coat.”

You shrugged out of the Italian wool overcoat and handed it to him, standing in a pair of ivory knee-high boots and a white turtleneck dress that clung tightly to your curves. Bob’s gaze rolled over you slowly.

“Have a seat,” he said. “Do you want a drink?”

“What do you have?”

Bob returned from the hall closet. “Honey, you know better than anyone what I have. Don’t think I didn’t know the two of you were sneaking into my liquor cabinet all those years.”

You flushed, turning around halfway on the couch to peer over the back at him, mouth agape. Bob chuckled, heading for the kitchen and returning a few seconds later with two glasses and a bottle of chilled champagne. “You knew?” you asked, aghast.

He sat down on the other end of the couch, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to you. “Of course I knew,” he said, his voice thick and rumbling.

Bob poured himself a drink and then leaned back against the couch, one arm stretched out over the back.

“You think I didn’t watch you and Anna closely?” he added as you took a sip. It fizzed on your tongue and in your throat. “I’m her father, Y/N. It’s my duty to protect her. And you.”

Protect. The word rang in your head on repeat. Your eyes flicked down to Bob’s hands. So strong and lean, with veins running on the back of his hands toward his sweater-covered arms. You squirmed unintentionally on the couch.

Bob’s blue eyes were locked on yours. But instead of looking away, you let him in. God, he was beautiful. Jonah and all the other guys you had slept with had nothing compared to Bob Floyd. The small crinkle of skin next to his eyes was the only thing that betrayed his age. He was practically flawless. You weren’t the first person to notice how drop dead gorgeous Bob Floyd was. There were whispers behind Anna’s back. But Bob Floyd didn’t date. And besides, you were twenty years younger than him. What could he possibly want with you?

“Mr. Floyd,” you said and Bob smirked.

“Y/N,” he said, deep voice punctuating the air. “You can call me Bob.”

You shook your head. “It sounds wrong.”

He reached out a hand, nudging his thumb beneath your chin. “Does it feel wrong?”

“No.”

“Good girl.”

You practically whimpered. Bob’s azure eyes never left yours as he dropped his hand and rubbed his palm over his thigh in his khakis.

“Did you like my gift?”

You nodded.

“Are you wearing it now?”

Another nod. Bob’s eyes grew wider, darker. He shifted in his seat, setting his champagne glass down on the fancy wooden coffee table.

You crossed your legs, noting that Bob’s gaze followed you as you slowly lifted up one leg, crossing it over the other, adjusting yourself on the sofa a few inches closer to him.

Bob stood up, running one hand through his hair. He spun around.

“I can drive you home,” he said, “if you’d like. It’s snowing and it’s late. I realize now I didn’t ask if you wanted to come here.” He shook his head. “If you’re uncomfortable, we just pretend this never happened. You’re still Anna’s best friend, I’m still her father.”

You stood up, smoothing your dress with your hands and stepping closer. Hesitantly, you reached out, placing one hand on his chest. “I wanted to come.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “You do know you’re the hot dad that every girl in our grade had a crush on, right?” You rolled your eyes. “Anna hated it.”

Bob smirked, one hand coming up and toying with your fingertips pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater. His fingers circled your wrist, tight, and you gasped. “Is that right?” he asked, voice husky.

“Mmhm.”

“What about you?” His fingers slipped past your wrist, up the sleeve of your dress, dancing lightly along the thin skin of your forearm. “Do you think of me?”

“Yes.” It was the truth. You flushed.

“When do you think of me, darlin?” he rasped. Bob shifted closer so you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“When I'm alone,” you admitted softly. “When I touch myself.”

His fingers slid out from beneath your sleeve and you thought for a brief moment that he was going to turn you away, send you off on your merry way out into the snow with bruised pride and unseen lingerie.

But instead, Bob mumbled something underneath his breath before his eyes were piercing yours again, his hands finding their way to either side of your neck, tilting your head up toward him.

“Darlin’,” he groaned. “Trying to kill me?”

“Well you are old,” you murmured, "wouldn't be too difficult." He chuckled.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. “If you want to stop, we stop.”

You nodded, heart pounding wildly in your chest as Bob Floyd leaned down, sliding his mouth against yours, his fingers curling around your neck. You placed your hands on his arms, melting into the kiss.

Kissing Bob was like unlocking an entirely new facet of sex. His lips were soft, practically caressing yours, and his fingers pressed just deep enough into your neck and the base of your head as his tongue swirled in your mouth.

To your surprise, Bob groaned, stepping in closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you against the wall as he towered over you, across you, every inch of your body on fire.

Bob pulled back, eyes wide, his lower half still pressed against yours, his face and shoulders leaning back a few inches. “Y/N? Do you want this?”

“Yes, Mr. Floyd.”

“Then take off your dress and get on your knees.”

Bob stepped back as you carefully lifted the hem of your white dress, pulling it up and over your head, dropping it on the ground and crossing your arms over your chest sheepishly.

He shook his head, reaching out and prying your arms off of your chest, exposing your breasts in the whisper of white mesh and lace, the dainty sheer g-string, the sheer thigh highs that you had worn to please him. “Fuck,” he murmurred, letting your arms go and trailing one fingertip over your right breast, circling the hardened nipple. You whimpered, aching for him. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment before they snapped open and Bob’s hand was drawn back. You sank to the floor, wetness already pooling in your panties.

“Go ahead,” Bob said, his voice almost gritty it was so hoarse. Your hands reached up for his belt, undoing the clasp clumsily before pressing ahead the button of his pants, unlooping it. Your eyes widened as your fingers wrapped around the metal zipper, tugging it down over his hard bulge. Bob groaned as your fingers drew over his cock, even through his boxers, and you tugged the waistband of his khakis down, kneeling back slightly. “You ready for my cock, darlin’?”

You nodded, skimming your fingers under the band of his boxer briefs, tugging them down as Bob’s hard cock sprang to attention. You audibly gasped and above you, Bob smirked. He was thick and impossibly long, angry red head seemingly staring at you, taunting you.

Immediately, you reached out and licked the tip with your tongue, swirling it around his leaking tip, your eyes locked on Bob’s. His hands stayed at his side like a mummy, but his blue eyes bore into yours.

You opened your mouth wider, pressing your thighs together as you leaned in, one hand on the base of his shaft while you pushed his cock into your mouth and throat, gagging around his length as his tip bashed against the back of your throat. Your eyes started to water but you kept your eyes on Bob, pulling back and gasping before taking him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking on him harshly.

“Fuck!” he grunted as you gagged around him, your fingers tight on the base of his cock. He reached out, threading his fingers into your hair carefully, pulling you back, wiping the frothy saliva from your lips as you kneeled at his feet, chest heaving. “You like that?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes, Mr. Floyd.”

His eyes darkened. “Open,” he commanded and you opened your mouth as Bob fisted himself, pushing his cock all the way into your mouth and throat, fingers holding the back of your head in a gentle cradle. “Now put that pretty little mouth to good use,” he whispered, “and make me cum down your throat.”

Bob watched as you placed your hands on his hips, steadying yourself, using your head and neck to bob back and forth on his cock, sucking his length repeatedly.

Your right hand slid around the base of his cock, jerking the parts of him that wouldn’t fit into your mouth as you groaned, the vibrations sending Bob into the stratosphere. As you became more comfortable, you reached down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tightly before letting go as Bob panted above you.

Bob’s hand cradled your head and you opened wider as you felt him taking control, snapping his hips forward, thrusting his cock deep into your throat, causing you to sputter around him. “You can take it,” he murmured, pulling out a few inches before filling your mouth and throat again. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock. Now make me cum.”

You nodded, eyes watery, and Bob groaned, one of his hands bracing himself against the wall, the other preventing your head from hitting the wooden paneling as he drove his cock into your throat, letting out a string of curse words as you felt him stutter above you, his hot cum filling your throat and mouth, spilling out of the corners of your lips, mixing with the tears that were streaming down your cheeks.

Bob collapsed forward, resting his forehead on his arm, pushing his cock deeper into you one last time before pulling out as you swallowed his salty spend. He leaned back, panting, and swiped one thumb over your lips. “Come here.”

You stood, slightly wobbly, and inhaled sharply as Bob spun you around, placing his hands over yours against the wall. There was the sound of him pulling his pants back on, clicking the buckle, before his hands were back on your waist, thick fingers slipping into the lacy garter band, one hand traveling up and cupping your breast as he pressed against you from behind, his breath warm in your ear.

“Tell me what you want.”

Your eyes were closed. All that you could feel were Bob’s hands exploring your body. “You.” It was a whisper.

Bob spun you around until your back was against the wall and your eyes popped open. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on you, his fingers wrapping around your waist.

The next minute you were in Bob’s arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips still on yours as he carried you through the living room, down the hall toward the master bedroom.

You had been in Bob Floyd’s bedroom once before.

A few years back, Anna had invited you over for a sleepover when Bob was away for a work trip. Her mother was also busy, which led the two of you to stay in the house alone. Anna had suggested sleeping in Bob’s room because it had a large TV mounted over the fireplace.

But after the movie marathon and once Anna fell asleep, you snuck off to the bathroom, opening a bottle of Bob’s cologne, inhaling his scent, wondering what it would be like to smell him up close.

As he laid you down on the king bed, you caught a whiff of that familiar cologne. Duc De Vervins Houbigant. You could clearly picture the sheer green and gold bottle. You had never thought you'd get this close to him.

Bob laid you down carefully. You sat up on your elbows, looking at him as he stood at the edge of the bed. Gently, Bob placed one hand on each of your knees, spreading your legs apart, his hands smoothing over the lace of your thigh highs, up to the garter straps which he snapped against your skin. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to your exposed stomach, kissing the skin. You felt anticipation and desire pooling between your legs as Bob’s fingers dug into your hips.

“Please,” you begged and Bob lifted his head.

“Please what?”

You wanted to blush or feel embarrassment, but you couldn’t. Not with the way that Bob was looking at you. Like you were the only person he had eyes for. “Please fuck me Mr. Floyd.”

He practically growled. Bob leaned back, standing up straight and lifting off his sweater to reveal a pair of perfect abs. He looked better than any boy you had ever fucked, even at forty, and you found your mouth watering as he removed his pants, cock hard again. Bob kicked away the discarded clothes, crawling onto the bed, hovering over you before bending over, ripping the lace of your bra down to expose your nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking harshly as you writhed beneath him.

“Oh!”

He licked the bud, nipping at it gently, as your hips jumped up uncontrollably, a throaty moan falling out of your mouth. Bob popped off of your nipple with a smirk, reaching beneath you and unclasping the bra, tearing it off and tossing it on the ground. His large hands massaged your bare breasts before one hand trailed down, brushing over the lace garter, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

Bob’s thick finger slid over your slick folds and you cried out as he nudged your clit before sinking down, teasing at your opening.

He pushed his finger into your cunt as you whimpered beneath him, the only sounds in the room were your pants and the loud smack of Bob’s knuckle hitting your opening as your juices dripped down to his wrist, your walls gripping his finger tightly. “So fucking tight,” he muttered, adding a second finger, stretching you wide as you twitched below him, pressing up against the heel of his hand, desperate for more contact. “Shh,” he whispered condescendingly. “You’ll cum when I want you to.”

You let out a groan, flopping back on the bed, letting Bob finger fuck you, hard, until you could feel yourself building to an orgasm.

And then he pulled out as you gasped, raising his fingers to his lips, sucking them dry before reaching down and tearing the panties at the side, flinging them off the bed.

Bob looked down at you. His gaze was so intense your first instinct was to look away. But instead you skimmed your fingers over his bicep where he had one arm outstretched near your head. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, groaning as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your wet core brushing against his erection.

“Darlin’,” he murmured. “You’ve never been fucked properly a day in your life, have you?”

You shook your head.

Bob reached over for a condom, tearing it open and rolling it over himself seamlessly. He dropped down to his forearm, face close to yours, other hand stroking your hip gently before maneuvering his cock until the tip was pressing against your entrance. “You want to stop, we stop,” he said softly. You nodded and Bob sank into your wet pussy, filling every inch of you as you whimpered, burying your face in his chest, small grunts as he pressed further inside, holding behind your knee, sinking into you.

Once he was fully sat inside of you, Bob moaned.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, brushing the hair back from your face, fingers resting on your cheeks, thumb pushing away the small tears that had gathered at the corner of your eye. “You’re so fucking tight.” You whined as he pulled back an inch, thrusting back into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he plunged into your wet, welcoming cunt, a low string of curses on his tongue as he felt you stretch around him, your hands on his biceps, grounding yourself to him. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, “fucking take this cock.”

“Bob!” You screamed as he leaned back on his knees, scooping up beneath you and pulling your chest in toward him until you were straddling him on the bed, Bob holding you steady as he fucked into you, your bare breasts slapping against his chest.

He grunted. “Fuck, yes, God you feel so fucking good.”

You wound your arms around Bob’s neck, your eyes on his as he held you close, his cock brushing that small spongy part inside of you that made you start wailing in pleasure. “Yes, yes!”

“Don’t cum,” he growled and your eyes filled with tears as he slowed down, pulling you off of him.

“What?”

“Get on your hands and knees,” he demanded and you turned over, scooting your ass back toward him, practically screaming as he filled you again in one thrust, his hands on your hips, pulling you back to meet his every thrust. “Good girl,” Bob said as you tipped your head down, feeling his sticky thighs press against the back of your own legs, his balls smacking your puffy, aching pussy lips.

“Please,” you begged, snaking one arm down, your fingers finding your sopping wet clit.

Bob grabbed your arm, pinning it to your stomach, pulling you up until your back was pressed against his chest, his arm tight against your chest, fingers gripping your left breast tightly. “You need to learn, Y/N,” he said, smoothing his other hand down between your legs as he continued to thrust into you from behind, “that a real man makes his woman beg, but he doesn't make her work for her orgasm. Now spread your legs for me, baby.”

You tipped your head back as Bob’s fingers brushed over where you craved them the most, instantly finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the bud. “Fuck, oh my god, oh holy shit, yes please.”

Bob’s voice was throaty in your ear, his lips hot against the skin of your neck. “Cum all over my cock, baby. Fucking soak me.”

And then you were screaming, hot desire pooling in your stomach, bursting, your breath stalling as your breath caught in your throat and Bob pumped himself into you as your legs shook.

You started to fall forward but he caught you with both arms as you rode out your high on his cock, your body trembling with the aftershocks.

Bob loosened his grip on you, laying you down gently before rolling you over again, this time never letting his cock fall from between your legs as he repositioned the two of you so he was hovering above you, cock plunging into your exhausted cunt.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurred, head dipped down, kissing your neck as you whined. “Can you cum for me again, baby? Milk my cock.”

You were spent. But then Bob lifted his head, his gaze locked on yours, and his lips found yours, kissing you deeply, his free hand coming back between your bodies, thumb pressing gently over your clit as you whimpered into his mouth.

“That’s it,” Bob said, “right there darlin’. Want to watch you while I fucking fill you.”

He thrusted into you, hard, as his thumb slid over your clit and you found yourself shaking around him once again, crying out as Bob groaned loudly, hips stuttering, filling the condom with his hot cum as your walls massaged him, clinging to him tightly, your fingertips sliding down his sweaty and toned back, pulling him closely. Your leg was hooked around his waist and he collapsed onto you, face buried in your neck, his cock slowly softening inside of you as your heartbeat continued to rage on.

After a few seconds, Bob leaned up, pulling out of you slowly. You winced as he removed his cock, feeling empty and sore as he discarded the condom.

Bob laid back on the bed and instinctively you rolled into his side, slinging one leg over his thigh, head resting between his shoulder and arm. His fingertips stroked your side. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Was that good for you?” you asked quietly.

Bob chuckled, and your head bounced around at the movement. “Yes, honey, it was good. It was better than good. You’re so fucking sexy.” He smoothed one hand over your waist. “I want to fuck you everywhere, every way that I can, until you can’t remember what it was like to fuck anyone else.”

You smiled. “Trust me, I’m not going to forget this.”

Bob grinned, sliding out of bed carefully. You frowned but he held out one hand. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up.”

In the bathroom, Bob turned on the enormous two-person shower as you unclipped your thigh highs and garter, stepping into the marble shower, Bob joining you a second later, shutting the door. You stood under the hot water, letting it smooth over your skin and hair before turning to him. Bob looked at you with such an intensity you thought you might melt.

“Y/N,” he grumbled. You cocked your head to the side. “Sit down.” Bob pointed to the marble built-in seat on one side of the shower. You sat down with a frown. But then Bob sank to his knees, nudging open your legs, and you grinned. “I can’t stand it. I have to taste you.”

You leaned back with a loud moan as Bob’s sharp tongue flicked over your folds, finding your clit, circling the puffy, exhausted nerve as his large hands held your knees apart. “Mr. Floyd,” you begged and Bob looked up, eyes dark.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“You gonna make me cum again?”

Bob smirked. “As many times as I can, until you can’t even stand anymore.”

And then he was back between your legs, one finger in your cunt as his tongue flicked in circles over your clit while you leaned back, crying out when the heat started to pool in your stomach, threatening to break. “Mr. Floyd!” you screamed as you came all over his face, his lips and chin dripping with your cum when he pulled back, your thighs shaking.

Bob pulled you to standing, spinning you around until your hands were on the cool marble wall of the shower as he nudged your legs apart, rubbing his hard, massive cock against your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp slap as you gasped. “Are you clean?” he asked.

You nodded. “And I have an IUD.”

“Good.” Bob reached down, sinking into you in two quick thrusts, stuffing you impossibly deep as you groaned. “I’m going to fill you up, make you mine.” And then the two of you were gasping, panting, moaning as he fucked you from behind, your bare breasts pressing against the cool marble, Bob’s grunts loud in your ear as he lost himself inside of you. “Fucking perfect pussy,” he whispered, “so fucking tight, how does it feel to be fucked by a man, hmm princess? Could a boy ever make you feel like this?”

“Only you,” you whimpered, one cheek squished against the shower wall as Bob railed you from behind.

“Say it again.”

“Only your cock, Mr. Floyd!”

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, fingertips gripping your hips so hard you knew they’d leave bruises but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the unbelievable pleasure of having Bob Floyd fuck you senseless. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“Cum in me,” you begged. “Please?”

“Fuck.” Bob’s hips lifted and he cried out, spilling his warm cum inside of you, painting your walls, thrusting a few more times sloppily as your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop from his hard cock on his way down.

After the shower, Bob gave you a towel and you wrapped yourself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. He appeared in the doorway in a pair of pajama pants and no shirt, towel drying his hair.

“Did you bring pajamas?” he asked.

You cringed. You had brought everything else: makeup, makeup remover wipes, an extra pair of shoes, clothes for the next day. But you had forgotten pajamas. You shook your head.

Bob nodded, stepping toward a wooden chest of drawers and pulling out a long sleeved henley, handing it to you, along with a pair of boxers. You pulled them on as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you hungry?”

You were starving. In the kitchen, Bob pulled out the makings for a grilled cheese and you sat on the counter, legs swinging against the lower cabinets, watching him prepare the sandwiches. How many times had you done the exact same thing as Anna raced around, making the two of you an afternoon snack?

Bob flipped the sandwiches in the pan and then turned to you. “What are you thinking?”

“You’re not going to tell Anna, right?”

He shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Because it doesn’t mean anything?”

Bob’s gaze hardened. “Is that what you think?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t that what you wanted? Just sex. Just tonight.”

Bob lifted the sandwiches onto plates and turned off the burner. He stepped closer, placing his large hands on your knees. You thought back to twenty minutes ago when he had done the same thing in the shower and despite the fact that you had three orgasms under your belt for the night, excitement and lust started to creep into your bloodstream again. “Y/N,” he said, voice low and slow and it made your body ripple with excitement just hearing your name on his lips. “You mean something. You’re not just some random woman. I care about you.”

Your heart lifted.

Bob’s fingers pressed tightly against your skin before lifting off. He handed you a plate. “Now eat your sandwich, please. So I can take you to bed and fuck you again.”

You bit into the sandwich and groaned. It was good. Almost as good as the feeling of being fucked by Bob Floyd.

Bob stood on the opposite side of the kitchen, casually leaning up against the counter, eating his sandwich, his eyes never leaving yours.

You finished your grilled cheese, rinsed off the plate and washed your hands. Bob did the same and you smirked at him. “Mr. Floyd?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Can I suck your cock again?”

Bob smiled. “Still hungry, huh?” he asked. “Go on then, get on your knees, sweetheart. Make daddy cum.”

Tag list (also reusing my list from Friend Don't aka my general Bob list so if you don't want to be tagged in Bob fics going forward just let me know!): @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @teacupsandtopgun @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @yanna-banana @whisperofsong @marvelshauntedhouse @that1nerd-20

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@minamisulemisa @shawnsblue

@seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston

@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @shanimallina87

@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox

@sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn16

@cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46

@louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation

@fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @emorychase @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @evans-dejong @storysimp @emma8895eb @briseisgone @katiedid-3 @beacheybabes97 @mandylove1000

#dilf bob floyd #dilf bob #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #bob+floyd+x+reader #bob floyd smut #bob fucks #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun smut

716 notes · View notes

supercorpkid · 7 months ago

Text

When Was It Over?

Supergirl. Kara Danvers x Reader!

Word Count: 2121.

Notes: not a happy ending, sorry.

Kara Danvers has known the sting of a heartbreak on many occasions.

Kenny was her high school sweetheart and he has literally died. Mon-El had to leave the Present or he would die as well. William also died, granted they weren’t together together, but she can't even imagine what would have happened if they were.

Now as she watches you leaving her apartment, she can feel her heart being torn apart and she knows she will not get over it. She will never be able to recover. Kara Danvers will never be the same after this heartbreak.

But not like she wasn't her true self when Mon-El left. How she was a blubbering mess, crying and rolling on her bed to find it empty and how her heart was somehow emptier. Kara really thought that was the worst thing she would feel in her life. Forget about kryptonite, that heartbreak was one for the books. Life was so good, almost perfect and then faith or whatever it was just snatched from her and she was alone.

And yet, this heartbreak feels worse of all. Feels like Kara's ground just got pulled under her feet and she feels like Alice, falling, slumping, downward into the rabbit hole. And while she spins out of control, no breath left in her lungs, no words out of her mouth, no heart doing its job, she sees your eyes.

Kara will never laugh again. Not in the same way, anyway. Your jokes were the best. Tailored to her sense of humor. One that most people didn't even get. And she knew you did it on purpose, to get a laugh out of her. When she laughed your face would light up and her heart would swallow on her chest.

She doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know how to describe it. Right now you're leaving with a piece of her, her favorite one, and so she is hollow and lonely, so terribly broken she doesn't know where to even start.

Because you are not leaving her life unwanted. You're making this decision and she doesn't know if this searing pain will ever cease to burn her heart and the pit of her stomach, and if this wound will ever truly heal.

"Don't go." She thinks she begs out of her mouth. Tasting salt out of her tears, and the bitter tang of your leaving. A sharp pain on her heart like it's going to give out soon.

But you keep going. No words uttered out loud. No sound. No noise, except your hand on the handle, and your feet on the floor.

"Please." Kara is sure her voice came out this time, so loud in the deafening silence, it almost startled her.

"You know," You don't turn around. Can't, or you might not ever leave. Heart squeezed so tight, you wonder how it is that the words are leaving your mouth in the first place. "I really thought it was you."

Kara would never have to ask what. She was everything. And yet she almost hears the word leaving her mouth. She holds it back, having a million other questions fighting on her brain, but she knows she won't get the answer to them all, so she needs the perfect one. The question that will make you stay. The question that might bring her peace.

"When was it over?"

To that question you can't help but stop and turn around. Breathe caught on your lungs.

"I –" You blink, thinking about the answer. You don't know, which is weird. How can you not know when this was over? How can you not know why you're leaving the life of the person you were so sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with?

The question grows inside you. Turned into a moment filled with tension, heaviness, and yet it almost feels sacred. There's no air left between you and Kara anymore. Nothing but a suffocating and deafening silence.

She is the first one to speak again. "Was it that night you didn't care where I've been?"

Kara slipped in, late at night. You're almost asleep, but you still noticed her. She didn't look like she was in any Supergirl emergency. She stunk of beer. She wasn't drunk, though. You know it would take almost all the beer in the word for Kara to be drunk, but still she was being louder than she usually is.

Her cold hand glided through your stomach and you flinched, escaping her touch. "Go to sleep. You stink of alcohol." You moved farther away from her.

"Aren't you going to ask me where I was?" She sounded offended.

"I don't care."

"What?" You finally turned around to look at her. Kara had her brows furrowed, crinkle in the middle of her forehead, confusion crossing her face as if you just said something crazy.

"I'm trying to sleep." You explained, but she huffed, annoyed.

"Don't let me get in the way of that." Kara stood up, and she was quick to fly away from the same window she flew in.

You blink your memories of that night away. That wasn't it, but it surely didn't help.

"No. No, it wasn't that night."

Kara's eyes are full of tears, looking around, trying to remember more things. Trying to find out when this was done.

"Was it when I met your friends and acted indifferent?"

"Why are you mad? I – I had to go. I'm sorry I didn't stay there and chat with your college friends. Honestly, I had more important things to do!"

"Oh, I'm sorry my friends are not secret agents trying to save the world! But they are important to me, and it was important for me that you'd meet them."

Kara breathed out. "I did! I met the cheery lady and her sad-looking husband. I heard them talking about their new baby, but I had to save people from a car crash."

"It's not about leaving! It's about acting like you're above them."

"I didn't do that." You snorted at her lie. "Just because I said her husband couldn't be the smartest man on Earth? I have a friend who's literally a 12th-level-intellect! That man only knew how to talk about stocks! And he was so boring."

You blinked at her, tired, exhausted from this fight. "Yeah."

"Wait, you're agreeing with me? You also think he is boring?"

"No Kara. I'm just too tired to fight. Too tired for this."

She wouldn't see it. Kara thinks her friends are much better than yours. And they might be, anyways. You love her friends, but hey, your friends aren't so bad.

"Fine. You're too tired. I should go then."

You breathed out. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry." She finally says, a whole two months later. "Sad-looking-husband and overcompensating-cheery-lady are fine!"

"You didn't even bother learning their names!" You yell, but something brings you back to it. This isn't it. This is not the reason why you're leaving Kara, so it won't do you any good getting mad about it right now. "Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore. You will never have to see my horrible friends again. You should be thrilled about that."

"I'm not. I'm not thrilled about any of this, but I need to know. If your friends aren't the reason why you're leaving me, then what is?"

"Why does it matter? It's not going to change my mind. You saying sorry months later won't change my mind!"

"I need to know when it was over! When was I dancing with the ghost of you?"

You blink. The question hits you hard. When did you become a ghost in this relationship?

"Was it that time Mon-El came from the future?"

Oh yeah, here's Mon-El making his appearance right on time. Right when she mentions ghosts. Of course he would come back to haunt you guys again.

"Was that after or before you met the president, you fibber?"

"I'm not lying!" Kara defended herself, after a burst of laughter. She looked around the park and dropped her voice. "You're just jealous you've never been to Mars."

"You're right. Sounds like you had the time of your life fighting White Martians. I so wish I was there." You joked and she pulled you by your waist, a smile dangling on her face. Faces so close you knew what was coming next.

"Kara?" You heard a man's voice and both of you looked in the direction of it. Wait, you know this dude. Kara's hands left your waist, the distance grew huge. It was a matter of seconds, but you could cut the tension between them with a knife.

"Mon-El!" She exclaimed in total shock. "Rao, you're back from the future."

Mon-El. Her ex. That's where you knew him from.They exchanged amenities. You were not introduced, talked to, or acknowledged even once.

"So I'll see you back at the Tower?" He asked and she agreed vividly.

"I'm right behind you." And she was, indeed, almost flying away behind him when you cleared your throat and she noticed you. "Oh!" Kara looked back at you like she's never seen you before. "Would you like a ride home?"

"A what?" You asked in shock. No. Not possible. She wouldn't.

"Well, he is here from –" She whispered. "the future. It has to be important. I have to go see what's going on."

You stared at her in disbelief. She wasn't joking. Nope. Your girlfriend of a very long time that was on a date in the park with you, was going to run off to her ex-boyfriend the second he showed up.

"So," Kara insisted, when you didn't talk for a while. "Ride or –?"

"I'll walk home."

"Oh, cool. See you tonight then."

And then she left.

"I don't know, Kara. I can't just pinpoint it to one moment."

"When was it over for you, Y/N?" Her voice comes out full of anger, so loud it's almost a yell. "When was the moment you knew you'd walk out eventually?"

"I don't know!" You answer in the same tone, with the same anger.

"You're leaving! Gosh Y/N, you're leaving –" Her voice breaks, and it comes in a whisper so easy to hear, the gnawing pain in your heart gets stronger. "me."

"You know it's over. Don't do this now, Kara. We've been growing apart for so long, you'd have to be absolutely out of yourself not to have noticed."

"So you don't even wanna try? Don't wanna talk about it? Won't figure it out?"

"Kara."

She comes closer. One single bold stride towards you, closing the huge distance in half. "What would it take for you to stay?"

And that's when it hits you. You know exactly when it was over for you, and weirdly that brings a smile to your face because it feels good to finally understand why you and Kara Danvers will never work out.

"I needed you to stay." Kara furrows her brows, cleans her tears on her sleeve. "That's when it was over. It was over a little every time I needed you to stay, but you left."

"But –"

"And you kept leaving me, didn't you? Huh."

You think back at all the moments she brought up as a reason to why it could've ended and you realize they all have one thing in common. Kara leaving.

Supergirl, ex-boyfriends, imminent fights, work emergencies, and the list goes on. All of it was always more important or sometimes not important enough. No, she won't stay and have a fight with you, you're not important enough. No, she won't finish that date because Alex called, CatCo called, her stupid ex-boyfriend called. You'll walk home alone and you'll finish that dinner by yourself, you'll wake up to an empty bed and you'll get the dial tone.

You'll think about jumping from really tall somethings, just so you can be an emergency so you'll get her to stay.

"You know, when you said forever, I almost bought it. But the truth is, you were my forever and I was your in-betweens. And I deserve more than that." You breathe out. Finally. You can finally feel the air back in your lungs, in the atmosphere, right in the middle of the distance between the two of you.

"What now?" Comes in a heart-breaking whisper. Kara drops on her knees, face soaked with tears, clear ache in her heart. You're feeling free, but you can tell she isn't feeling the same, and you know it might take her a long while to feel the same.

"Now?" You look back at the door, hand on the handle one more time, ready to go. "Now I'll be the one doing the leaving. And this is what our forever will be like."

And so you're gone.

#supergirl #kara danvers #kara x reader #reader insert #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl imagine

64 notes · View notes

bentannin · 1 year ago

Text

I will say the one thing I did not expect when the vod released on Monday was for the Ashton takes to swing in the OPPOSITE direction.

And while I definitely agree that some of the initial reactions after ep 77 & 78 ranged from concerning to just plain bad (harsh but some of them were genuinely bonkers; sending hate to Tal, painting characters as straight up abusive and manipulative, referencing one of the player’s irl trauma), the new wave of “Ashton did nothing wrong” isn’t exactly much better.

By their own admission, they fucked up. BIG TIME. They disregarded all the warnings and made a big decision without the rest of the group’s knowledge. And not only that, but he actively hides it from them. They have every right to be upset. And when you’ve just experienced a minute of watching helplessly as your friend rapidly loses and regains consciousness, has his arm fall off, and literally bursts into a million pieces right in front of you, it makes sense that you’d react pretty negatively. And while many of the things the Hells told Ashton were harsh, they weren’t completely unfounded.

Has Ashton shown to care about FCG and their well-being multiple times over the course of the campaign? Yes, absolutely. So when you look at their conversation from Ashton’s perspective, of course FCG accusing him of caring about no one would hurt. Of course, because, when asked to name at least one person, there was no hesitation when he said “you [FCG]”.

But when you look at it from FCG’s perspective, it’s a different story:

He was there when they were all given the warnings about the shard. He was there when, over and over and over again, they were told putting two shards within the same body, especially Ashton’s body which already holds two beings (the empress and the half-beacon), would sunder that body. And he was also there when it was decided the shard would go to Fearne, not Ashton.

So, with only that information and having no way of knowing any conversations between Fearne and Ashton (where she says she doesn’t want it, where Ashton says he does, and they decide Ashton will receive it instead), when they walk up the steps of the ziggurat and see Ashton, their friend, glowing and falling apart in immense agony, of course the only things they would feel in the moment are horror and confusion.

And after a minute of desperately trying to keep them alive, of burning his hands on their sweltering skin just to pump in enough health points to keep them standing, because, if he doesn’t, if he fails, Ashton will die with no way of bringing them back, of course FCG would feel hurt.

And not just hurt, but betrayed, because who does that?!

Who puts everyone who cares about them through that? Who looks at every warning and completely disregards them, and then LAUGHS after they’ve just forced their friends to watch as they nearly killed themselves?

The answer, at least to FCG, is no one; no one who cares about their friends would do that to them, so the only conclusion he can come to in a moment wrought with such intense emotion and turmoil is that Ashton clearly doesn’t care.

Basically what I’m trying to say is, the Hells are allowed to be upset. They are allowed to express that they are upset. And Ashton, for as much as I love his character and understand the events that led to this major fuck up moment, is just gonna have to take it.

They shouldn’t be punished by any means because they are still a deeply hurt and sad person, but they shouldn’t be completely excused either. What they did was extremely stupid, and the ONLY thing that kept them alive and kept the Hells from losing him, was the love from their friends and probably the luckiest ring trade ever made (long live Aabria).

And yes, the Hells are being hypocrites, they’re all either on similar paths of self-destruction or enabling them, but almost losing Ashton has clearly started to open their eyes. Hopefully the retreat allows them all to process and decompress in order to address that hypocrisy with clearer heads! But for now, it’s just gonna be the initial anger.

#ashton greymoore #critical role #critical role spoilers #fcg #this was way longer than intended #but hopefully makes sense??#maybe??#i dont want to step on toes but MAN was i seeing some bad takes #love Ashton very dearly but hes a dummy #and thats okay!#love them regardless

65 notes · View notes

bashfullove · 1 year ago

Text

❦I Died With You❦

❦Summary: the gang is over, Arthur has died, after finally arriving at John's and Abigail's doorstep, you realize how much you will now struggle without Arthur

❦Pairing: Arthur Morgan x F.Reader

❦Warnings: established relationship, no comfort what so ever, days after Arthur's death, mentions coughing of blood, character death

❦Notes: hehe >:) (we're acting like I didn't literally start crying while writing this, alright?) This is also fairly short I apologise

The crickets chirped their melody, the creakiness of the front door opening being barely heard over the never ending chirping. As quiet as a field mouse, you walk out of John's and Abigail's house on the farm. Uncle's snoring is heard even from outside but it's become white noise compared to the words in your head right now. The balled up piece of paper is tossed to the ground, a letter that you wished you could address but you never would.

You had once enjoyed the quiet and peacefulness of the night but now it was just a cold reminder of loneliness. The dry ground below you with the dead grass crunches, moths flying in the air, lured in by the lantern by the door. Looking up at the full moon, you used to love staring at it, knowing that he could see the same moon. It was special, a reminder that no matter how far, you could still be close with such a simply, maybe foolish, gesture.

Maybe living so close to someone who reminded you so much of him wasn't helping your grieving process, you could barely even utter his name without feeling yourself fall apart. The hat now on John's head the cruelest of reminders. The hat that once would be upon your head as a joke, the sound of his laughs when it would tip over your eyes.

Blaming yourself had been your worst trait lately, maybe if you did something better, or just done more. Spent more time with him or took the Thomas Downes job for him. He deserved to still be here, you wanted to take his place, you wanted to be the one who felt their lungs slowly start to fail, all if it meant that he would get one more day. One more ride, one more duel, one more sunrise...

"I'd rather die in the next hour than go a million lives never knowing you."

The words haunted you since the day you parted, the day you watched him get on the horse for his last ride. You never thought yourself important to anyone until he came into your life, he was the air that you breathed but now there is no air.

But you’d hold tightly onto those last grains of dust, desperate to keep any shred of his memory close to you. Even if most of the memories now were of his suffering, the days you spent just holding him as he suffered. Combing his hair from his sweat ridden forehead, rubbing his back when he would be coughing and wiping his mouth later of the blood, attempting to catch him before he could fall on the ground hunched over.

“What have you done to me, Arthur Morgan,” you said. The words were demanding but were hollow when paired with the sob that tore through your throat. You walked across the front yard of the house, eyes glued to the moon and the sky. You hadn't said his name since you parted from him on that mountain. Saying his name just meant more pain and more memories of the man that you once loved, and still did love.

“Have I truly lost it all? Is there any kind of up from all of this?” you whispered, a sad smile tugging on your lips and a whisper of a laugh leaving your mouth. You sniffled and cleared your voice, "I suppose not."

Unfinished conversations with Arthur still spoke words, letters that you wrote him daily now only a balled up corner in your room that he would never see. You couldn't even say your heart was breaking anymore, it didn't exist. His last breath took your heart with him to wherever he could even be now. You wished to believe that he had someone became better, that he would show up on the doorstep, that him dying was nothing but a cruel dream. But reality was cruel, he wouldn't ever come and surprise you, not anymore.

A part of you died with him that day, anyone who had known you before his death could see it.

❦Thank You For Reading❦

❦Taglist:

❦Bashfullove❦

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #roger clark #bashfullove writing

91 notes · View notes

downwiththeficness · 1 year ago

Text

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Thirty

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes. This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count: ~3,500

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist Read on AO3

The house was quiet that morning. If Eva was honest with herself, she would admit the house had been quiet since the moment its occupants returned from the scene of Ivan’s murder. The passing of time was nothing more than a waiting game—waiting for the Sheriff to show up with a warrant, waiting for the lab to be raided, waiting for Diego to make another move.

Even though Eva knew full well what was going to happen, the rampant anxiety in the house was getting to her. Josh refused to let her leave and, with nothing to distract her, she began to pace the house in a never ending circuit.

Bedroom. Hallway. Stairwell. Hallway. Kitchen. Dining room. Side door. Back yard. Terrace. Bedroom.

She ignored the annoyed looks from her husband and the endless sighs from Alexei. Eva didn’t care if she wore a hole through the fucking carpet. She walked until her legs ached and counted the days on the calendar.

The note on her door came as a surprise.

The Lounge. Now.

Eva pulled the post it from her door and stared at it with a curled lip. Then, because she knew it would piss him off, Eva went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee before ambling down the hall to see what it was that Josh wanted. The door was open, but she didn’t bother knocking. Eva simply walked into the room with her coffee held to her chest and an expectant look on her face.

Josh was standing on the far side of the room, looking out the sliding glass door. When he didn’t acknowledge her presence, Eva turned her attention to Alexei. The Russian was sitting on the couch with his knee cross over his ankle. He shook his head and her, then ticked it subtly to the side.

Her eyes dropped to the floor, followed by her stomach. On the coffee table was a nondescript black bag. The nylon fabric was pulled taught around its contents, stuffed full and bulging.

The money.

Moving closer, Eva looked for the second bag and was relieved that it was out of sight. The more important items were safe, for now. She was grateful she had the foresight to move it to the trunk of her car before all this shit went down.

She swallowed and glanced back Alexei for some kind of direction. With a movement that was hidden by the back of the couch, he extended two fingers in a right angle with his thumb. Eva shook her head and dipped her chin towards the bag. The gun he’d given her was at the bottom of half a million in cash.

Alexei looked away and breathed deep. Eva narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed that he was annoyed. It wasn’t her fault that Josh happened upon the only weapon she had available.

“I’m disappointed, Eva,” Josh said.

He was still facing away from her, but Eva knew that he wasn’t disappointed. He was angry. Furious, even. His calm demeanor could only be maintained because he had a plan of action in front of him.

Eva remained silent and sipped at her coffee to pump a little caffeine into her system. She might have a fight on her hands and she needed all the help she could get.

Josh looked over his shoulder, “Nothing to say.”

She shrugged.

He sucked his teeth and walked towards her, “I expected better from you.”

No explanation was going to placate him, so she didn’t give him one. Eva kept her mouth shut and her expression neutral. All the years of practice were paying off with dividends against the hammering of her heart and the slow creep of fear.

Josh pointed at the bag, “Is this my money?”

Its mine, she thought, Consider it back pay.

A step forward, “Is it?” Then, “Answer me!”

Eva took a casual sip of coffee, “Its extraneous.”

“Oh, extraneous,” Josh sneered, “Big word for a hillbilly. How many times did you have to check the dictionary before you got that right?”

She shrugged again, refusing to feed into his anger.

“Alright,” he said as he reached into his pocket, “was this also extraneous?”

A chill went over her when he presented her with the stolen bottle of fentanyl. He’d gone through her room, through her things.

“You know,” Eva replied, “snooping is generally considered rude.”

Josh spluttered, “Rude? Me, rude? What about you? Stealing from your husband. And, what were you going to do with this?” He waved the bottle around, “Planning on killing me?”

“No,” she said honestly, “I wasn’t.”

But, I am now, Eva finished in her head.

He had to at least suspect the Eva was going to run, leaving him holding the bag with the warrant. His blood had to be boiling at her sheer audacity. She expected that she was about to receive the beating of her life and, later, she would wake up cuffed to her bed.

“What do you think about this, Alexei?” he asked as he put the bottle back in his pocket.

Brows lifting, Alexei said, “I think its collateral.”

That gave Josh pause, “Collateral?”

Humming in confirmation, Alexei picked lint from his pant leg, “I think I’m not the only one who was cleaning house. The feds are going to lock up your accounts as soon as you get served. You’ll need liquid funds to grease the wheels while this whole thing gets sorted out.”

Josh was confused enough by Alexei’s explanation to stare at his friend for several long seconds, “Really…”

Alexei shrugged, “What else could it be?”

“Uh,” Josh retorted, “The obvious answer is she’s stealing from us. Eva’s not smart enough to think that far ahead.”

An eye roll, “Sure.”

“I can’t believe you don’t see what’s right in front of you!” Josh exclaimed, clearly put out by Alexei’s lack of buy in.

Eva almost felt bad for him. Josh was right, after all, and Alexei wasn’t siding with him. If she weren’t worried about what he was going to do with her, she might have had it in her to laugh. Instead, she sipped her coffee.

“Fine,” Josh bit out, “Let’s just say you gathered an emergency fund. Why not tell me about it? Hmm?”

She was pretty sure the question was rhetorical. Josh wasn’t looking for answers, he was looking for guilt. Eva didn’t feel like playing along.

“See?” he turned to Alexei, “Nothing to say to that, either. The bitch is lying to us.”

Alexei stood and went over to the bar, “She’s not saying anything, Josh. We need to set this aside for now and focus on the real problem.”

“Which is?”

“The fact that all of us are going to be behind bars any minute now.”

Josh blew a raspberry, “I’ll make bail. Won’t take more than a day.”

Alexei poured a healthy serving of vodka, “There will still be a trial.”

“Exactly.”

Eva watched the back and forth between them, wishing she could go back to the kitchen and get another cup of coffee. It was possible that they wouldn’t notice if she was quick, but she didn’t want to chance it.

“Josh,” Alexei leveled a pointed look at him, “I’ve done a hell of a job clearing out the evidence, but you’ve left a trail behind you a kilometer wide. Its going to take serious work to keep you out of prison.”

“But, that’s not the plan,” Eva cut in to the surprise of both men. “You told me you were setting up shop across the border.”

From the look on Alexei’s face, it was clear that this was the first he was hearing of this plan. He glared at Josh, expecting an explanation.

Josh smiled, “You’re right. That is the plan. And, now that we have the supplier, I don’t think we’ll have any trouble making it happen.”

Smug little shit.

Alexei threw back all the vodka in his glass, then set it on the bar, “This is so fucking stupid. Do you have any idea how fucking stupid that is? No, of course you don’t.”

Crossing his arms, Josh replied, “Its not stupid. Our business model is a well oiled machine. We can be just as successful in Mexico.”

“With what factories?” Alexei asked in an angry tone.

“We’ll buy the factories. Or build them.”

“What what money?”

Josh gestured towards the bag on the coffee table, “That’s a good start, don’t you think?”

Jaw working, Alexei scoffed, “Sure. Okay. We’ll just become international fugitives.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“We let the trial play out,” Alexei said evenly, “We bribe, pay off, threaten, or kill whoever we need to in order to get the verdict we want. We keep on the straight and narrow. Put that new stimulant on the market. Make more money than we know what to do with and retire to a fucking beach somewhere.”

That actually sounded like a really good plan.

Josh cast his eyes around the room. Eva watched him think about what he wanted to do while sipping the last of her coffee. He palmed a pill bottle, rattling its contents around.

Alexei stood and approached his friend, “I know this is difficult and I know you’ve been working very hard on your next project. I just think we need to be realistic.”

Something in Josh’s demeanor shifted and it set Eva’s teeth on edge, “Realistic? You want us to be realistic?” He tossed back a pill, “What’s real is that my wife has been stealing from me. What’s real is that my entire life is about to be blown to bits by a DA who has a fetish about justice.” A pause, “What’s real is that I am tired of working so hard not to live the life I want to live.”

He shrugged off Alexei’s hands, pacing to the bar. Uncaring that he might break the delicate crystal, he poured a hefty helping of bourbon into a glass. Eva thought he might swallow it down, but he set it aside and pushed his hand into his pocket. Out came the bottle of fentanyl and he tapped about a tablespoon of it.

After using a swizzle stick to stir it around, Josh turned and held it out to Eva, “Drink it.”

Hands curling around the mug, Eva shook her head.

He couldn’t be serious. He could not be serious. A dose like that would be…

Lethal.

From Alexei, “Josh, think about what you’re doing.”

“I’m thinking,” Josh replied. “I’m thinking that I confronted Eva about the fraud and the theft and—hell, let’s add cheating onto it. I’m thinking that this is all her doing and that she couldn’t take it.”

What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

She took a step back.

Eva knew Josh hated her, resented her, wanted nothing to do with her outside of the way she managed the books. That was all fine. How he felt about her didn’t matter. But this...this was more than hatred.

Or, less?

Possibly.

She didn’t know.

In any case…

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Yes, the fuck, you are,” he replied.

Alexei tried to cut in and was silenced by a hard swipe of Josh’s hand.

“No,” Eva bit out. “I’m done doing this with you. I’m done.”

“You don’t get to tell me when you’re done!” Josh yelled, “I tell you when you’re done.”

Alexei shushed him, “You need to calm down.”

Taking a calming breath, Eva tried again, “I think you should listen to Alexei.”

“I don’t need to calm down,” Josh replied in a shuddering voice, “I am perfectly calm.”

“You’re trying to kill your wife,” Eva asserted, “That doesn’t scream calm.”

Josh pointed a finger at her, “Shut the fuck up and drink what I give you.”

She squared her shoulders, “No.”

Eva wasn’t the only person in the room that was tired.

His eyes narrowed, “You’ve gotten mouthy lately. Obstinate, too.”

“And,” she replied, “you’ve gotten reckless. You threw away the life you wanted for...what? I really don’t see what you’ve gained over the last few months.”

Josh’s spine straightened, “What have I gained? What have I gained?” He drew a breath, “I have gained so much. The things I have made, the formulas...I have created an advancement in pharmaceutical science.”

“Woo fucking hoo!” Eva crowed, “What good is it if all this leads to is...a fucking court case?”

He looked at her as if she’d grown a second head, “What good...what good...Its progress, Birdie. I have made progress.”

She shook her head, “Progress that leads to nowhere.”

Josh’s brows drew together, “You don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it.”

“No,” Eva breathed, “I don’t. I don’t get it. I don’t get how you could have all of this,” she gestured around the room, “and still end out so...you.”

His lips pulled back from his teeth, “Look who’s talking. I pulled you out of nothing. I made you. What would you have become if I hadn’t picked you out of that one-room church, out of utter obscurity.”

Eva smiled at him, feeling oddly light, “I would have been just fine, Josh. Just. Fine.”

Josh sucked his teeth. He shifted on his feet, looked at her as if she’d slapped him across the face. Eva waited, hoping against hope that she moved the needle even a little bit. Otherwise…

The glass remained on the bar.

Silence was held aloft by the sheer stubborn pride of every person in the room. Eva’s heart was loud in her ears, the pulse of her blood almost painful in her ears. She chanced at glance at Alexei, who looked like he was going to have a stroke with the way the vein on his forehead was throbbing. He might not truly be on her side, but at least Alexei recognized the bullshit position they were in.

Would it be enough to save her life?

A knock on the front door.

The Eva froze along with all the air in the room. There were no appointments, Myra was covering for her at the ladies’ luncheon, anyone who had any business being in the house was standing right there.

Which left…

Josh let out a triumphant cry, “Perfect timing! Alexei, hold her down. They’ll be too busy with Eva’s suicide to execute the warrant.”

She gripped the only weapon she had, a mug with a tiny painted bird on it—another unwanted gift from Myra. There was no way she was going down without a serious fight and if she screamed loud enough the agents outside might break in and intervene.

Another knock. The doorbell rang.

Alexei crossed his arms, “She dies and we lose our scapegoat.”

Swiping at dismissive hand, Josh replied, “She’s the perfect scapegoat if she’s dead.” His eyes turned to her, “Dead birds don’t sing.”

A loud crack, the shattering of glass.

Eva clenched her jaw and backed away towards the oncoming footsteps. She turned just in time to see Horacio clearing the doorway with a wide, manic grin.

“I’m always interrupting,” he announced.

There was gun in his hand—not the gold one she’d seen last time—a standard issue firearm. It sat in his hand like an extension to his arm, perfectly natural.

“What the fuck is this?” Josh blurted.

Horacio, arms akimbo, replied, “I’m here to kidnap your wife. Got a new route to run and I need an accountant.”

Eva couldn’t help the way she let out a relieved breath. Fortunately, everyone else was too busy processing Horacio’s sudden appearance to notice. Alexei started to move and Horacio took aim. The Russian stilled, his gaze focused and murderous.

“I don’t think I’m going to let you out of this house alive,” Josh replied. “But, for the sake of courtesy, would you like a drink?”

He held out the fentanyl laced bourbon with a charming smile. Eva sucked in a gasp, afraid that Horacio might take it. She looked at him and shook her head hard.

Horacio pursed his lips, “I think I’ll take her word on it. Besides, I have better at home.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Alexei muttered, “You won’t get to drink it.”

Laughing, Horacio made a kind of abashed shrug, “I meant my home. I’ll be out of the country by sunset.”

“I’ll call it in,” Josh bit out. “Border patrol would just love to take down a known drug dealer.”

Another shrug, “You can try.”

While the men were posturing, Eva noticed a small, red dot dance across the wall. It flashed across her face and disappeared. She tried to trace where it had come from, but couldn’t find a source.

Josh, in a fit befitting a toddler, threw the tumbler of bourbon at the wall. It shattered, all that fine crystal falling to the floor. Eva yelped at the sound, holding the mug close to chest in an act of self protection.

Horacio sighed, “Its over, doctor.”

“Not quite,” came from Alexei.

He was suddenly holding a gun of his own and it was pointed at Horacio. Eva shifted on her feet, afraid for him.

To his credit, Horacio was remarkably nonplussed, “Take a step towards the windows and look at the back of Josh’s head.”

Alexei’s eyes narrowed and remained on Horacio while he followed the directive. His icy eyes flicked to the side and widened before returning to Horacio’s.

“One of my men is an excellent shot. Put your weapon down and I won’t have them paint the carpet with his brains.”

Horacio gestured towards her, “Time to go, Mrs. Moore.” Her hesitation earned a soft hiss from him, “Now, woman.”

Moving quickly, but carefully, Eva stepped towards the coffee table with the intention of picking up the duffel. She didn’t anticipate the way Josh’s arm snapped out and caught her around the neck. Her hauled her into his chest and held her in a bruising embrace.

“She’s not going anywhere.”

Horacio licked lips that curled into a sneer. A strange movement with his hand, then, “Because I am a reasonable man, I’m going to give you a choice. Your wife, or your best friend. Ten seconds, doctor.”

Eva wriggled in Josh’s arms, unable to break away.

“You are in my house, my town—,”

“Time!”

The sliding glass door exploded inwards. Instinct had all the muscles in Eva’s body relaxing so that she could fall through the circle of her husband’s arms and to the floor. She covered her head and waited.

Josh was yelling Alexei’s name. The Russian wasn’t replying. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to standing. Horacio’s face wavered in front of her. He started to pull her towards the door. Eva veered off to the side and grabbed the money before following.

It was a mistake to look back.

Alexei was laying on the floor in a steadily growing pool of blood. His skull was cracked open and his eyes were vacant. Josh’s hands were hovering over his head, as he was trying to figure out how to put him back together again.

Horacio dragged her into the hall.

The front door was kicked in. She could see the remains of the deadbolt on the floor. Sunlight streamed through the opening, nearly blinding her.

He took the duffel from her, shouldering it. Eva moved with him down the hall, barely remembering to snag her keys from the hook on the wall. She stumbled outside and down the porch steps.

“Wait,” she called out, rushing to her car.

“We have to go!” Horacio called out.

Eva ignored him, opening the trunk of her car and grabbing the large tote back from the depths. She slammed it shut and turned just in time to see a white van careen up her street. Horacio held up one hand to signal the vehicle while the other reached for her. Palm to palm, he guided her inside and crawled in after her. The door hadn’t even shut when the engine gunned and the tires screeched.

There were no seats in the back of the van and the windows were deeply tinted. Eva looked around to find herself sitting among the members of Stag Nation. Lizzy was driving like a bat out of hell and Gene gave directions from the passenger’s seat. To her left was Jim and to her right was Marcus. The bassist was disassembling a sniper rifle and setting its parts into a case.

In front of her was Horacio.

He was kneeling less than a foot away, looking out through the front window. Eva followed the lines of his profile, noted the crease between his brows. She looked at him as if he were a dream. It certainly felt like a dream.

“Where is Javier?”

Horacio glanced at her, “He’s waiting to serve the warrant. I want us far away when our team walks through the door.”

“You mean the door you broke down?” she deadpanned.

He smiled, “I had help.”

“Yeah,” Jim quipped, “a battering ram really helps.”

She nodded absently, “Where are we going?”

Easing down to sit beside her, Horacio said, “The state line. That’s as far as they can take us. Once we’re there, we can make some decisions.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “Try to relax. Its going to be a long day.”

#Shadow and Veil #Horacio carrillo #carrillo #maurice compte #au #A/B/O dynamics

12 notes · View notes

maggie-004 · 1 year ago

Text

(Un-) Lucky coincidence – 4

Jenna Ortega x Fem reader

Summary: After Jenna stays at y/n's apartment, they bond over music, and y/n offers to teach Jenna DJing. Later, Jenna surprises y/n by suggesting she join the cast of the upcoming movie as a set nurse and audition for a role, leading to a heartfelt moment of gratitude between them.

Words: 1032

“Uhm y/n, can you spare me some comfortable clothes? My suitcase is with my driver and I just got a message that he’s in Munich to get the rest of the cast tomorrow.” Jenna asked me. “Yeah sure, no problem, come with me” We got up from the couch in my living room an went into my room. I opened up my walk-in closet. “Feel free to chose whatever you’d like to wear” My closet is very basic, mostly consisting of Black and white. There are a handful of light blue, grey and beige pieces. “You have such a cool style, I love it. Oversized tomboy style, That’s literally my streetstyle I swear.” Jenna said. She took out my favorite shirt, it’s a beige shirt from the collection of RevedTV, Antonia, it has like a dark green angry cartoon computer as motive with the inscription `Tonis Computer club` and she took the matching black RVD (Reved’s brand) sweatpants. “those are literary two of my favorite pieces they are from my Best friends collection, Antonia, you remember, I told you earlier about her. She sent me literally everything out of her store five times, so my closet is mostly her brand” I explained laughing because I remembered when I got that huge ass package without knowing what is inside. “Oh she has her own brand? That’s so cool, so she’s like famous right?” Jenna asked me. “Well not famous like you, but like famous in all the German speaking countries. She is indeed the first female streamer in Germany who reached a million subs on twitch”, “Woah that’s really cool, are you on twitch aswell?” Jenna asked me. “Yeah but I’m not that active there, I have 900k subs but I only stream twice a week. Mostly I do late night sets with Toni.” I explained. “That’s so cool tell me your artist name I want to follow you”, “Okay my artist name is on all the platforms the same it’s DJ y/A/n. I know not very creative to put a DJ before it but well.” I said. “Oh wanna know something cool?” “First of all I don’t think it’s stupid, everyone knows by looking at your name that you’re a DJ and yeah sure tell me.” Jenna smiled. “I got booked for next Coachella festival next year, it’s my first live performance” I happily said. “Oh my got that’s so cool, I am there next year as well. I’ll be there with my sisters.” “Oh that’s so cool, so we’ll meet again. Amazing but hey do you wanna get changed and come to the balcony afterwards I’m heading out for a smoke. I suppose you don’t smoke right” I said suddenly feeling the need of a cigarette. “We are honest with each other, aren’t we.” Jenna asked. ”Yes of course, why”, “I do smoke sometimes, but this can’t get any attention by the press.” Jenna said all serious. “yeah no of course not, everything that happens here stays here, promised”. “All right thank you, well don’t you wanna change in more comfortable clothes, I don’t mind you staying here while I change, we’re both women”. “Yeah you’re right.” I grabbed some RVD sweat shorts and a black RVD shirt. When I took off my shirt I could swear I saw Jenna glancing over form the side of my eye. But again I could just imagined it. But I’ll be honest I took a few glances at her as well. I hope she didn’t noticed. When I was done changing I threw myself on the bed, not facing Jenna because I got red as a tomato. I can’t help it, she is fucking gorgeous, who wouldn’t have a slight crush on her?

-Jenna’s view-

I swear she was glancing over at me, but touché I guess. I sure glanced at her a few time myself. I can’t help it, this women is way to stunning. I hope I don’t fall to bad for her, because to be honest, I would lie if I’d say I don’t have a little crush on her. I finally was changed and laid down next to y/n. “So you’ll teach me a few DJing things later? You know I really love music, and Daft Punk, oh my god they have my heart.”, “Yeah sure if you’re still up for it, why not and I love Daft Punk as well they are just amazing.”

-y/n view-

That’s when Jenna’s phone rang. “Oh sorry I got to take this, It’s Tim Burton.” She explained. I gave her a thumbs up and went out to my balcony. On my way there I grabbed my headphones an blasted music on them. Well long story short, One cigarette turned into three, and Jenna taped me on the shoulder 20 minutes later. I know normal people would flinch if someone taps them on the shoulder, when you can’t hear them, but I’m not easy to scare. “Well hello there, you want one?” I asked her while holding out my pack. “Sure thanks” she said and light her cigarette. She sat down next to me and started to say “well I just had a talk with Tim, the director of Wednesday, and well, you can say no if you want to but I suggested to bring you with me to Romania in two weeks as a set nurse… and I also mention that you always wanted to be an actress. We still have an open spot for a role that matches your description like 99%, so if you want we could record a casting scene later. Because Tim said that it would be perfect. Of course only if you want to”. Wow what the hell is going on. “Oh my god, that.. would be amazing. The part as the nurse I would love to take, and I also would love to audition. Wow thank you Jenna. That’s amazing and perfect timing. I have my graduation next week. Thank you Oh my god. Wow. Honestly I don’t know what to say” I just hugged Jenna. My good karma is still on track. I’m so glad I helped her earlier. “thank you” I mumbled into her shoulder.

A/N: So another part, let’s see how this goes on. This isn't proof read yet. FYI English is not my first language. I still hope you like it. :)

#jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #the fallout #actors #wednesday

50 notes · View notes

saralayne · 10 months ago

Text

I Was Drowning, That’s When I Could Finally Breathe 🩵

Lucy and Tim break up after a big fight. Will they be able to find each other again?

Tim and Lucy had been living in a world of bliss for a year. Falling in love with one another with each passing day (if that was even possible). Basically, spending every night together, mostly at Lucy’s apartment as it was closer to the station. Tim wanted them to take the next step and officially move in together. He was just waiting for the right time. They were both excelling professionally. Tim, as Metro Sargent. Lucy had passed her detective exam and was still pursuing a UC career. She had only done small ops, nothing long term as of yet. The tap finally came for a career changing, long term op, and then another, and another. Tim, ringing the alarm on each opportunity. Only hearing a small part of what the ops would be. Tim had said he would be fine, but Lucy was realizing he wasn’t ever going to be fine. Without meaning to, he was manifesting his life with Isabel onto Lucy. Once the last opportunity came and he rang the alarm once again, Lucy had enough. She called him out on not separating her and Isabel. He finally admitted that he realized he couldn’t live this life again. Not wanting Lucy to resent him, they decided breaking up was imminent.

As time passed. Lucy and Tim avoided one another as much as possible. Both miserable and heartbroken. Their family at Wilshire wished more than anything they could fix this. Everyone knowing they were meant to be. They had both made so many sacrifices to be together. They were it for one another. But at the end of the day, Tim and Lucy needed to be the one to fix what was broken or move on from one another.

Tim walked into the station after a Metro op, seeing Angela and Nyla hugging Lucy as she made her way out door back on patrol. He was of course curious, but didn’t feel like he could pry anymore. Angela looked disheveled. Tim needing to know what was going on. He still loved Lucy more than anything in this world and always would. If she wasn’t ok he needed to know. No matter the distance right now, he would drop everything to be there for her if she needed him. He would still move the sun to be there for her in any way.

“Lopez. I know it’s not my place but is everything ok?”

“No. Tim. It’s not”

“I-Is s-she ok?” nervously inquiring

“Depends on how you look at it” quipping back

“Ang. Please. What’s going on? “

“Alright. Fine. It’s not really my place but someone needs to give you two a kick in the ass. Lucy just informed Nyla and myself that she is done with UC. She doesn’t want to be a UC anymore. She’s done.”

“WHAT. WHY? She loves UC work” questioning Tim

“Well. Her exact words. UC HAS COST ME THE ONE THING I LOVE MORE THAN ANYTHING. I LOST THE ONE PERSON WHO MADE ME HAPPY. I don’t want this life anymore. I have no joy or excitement for it.”

“FUCK” was the only response Tim could muster.

“She went on to tell us that she had only caused you pain pursuing a life that had given you such darkness. She never wanted you to look at her and see Isabel and the hurt she caused. She wanted to be your safe place, your joy, the woman you love and want to marry, have a family. Lucy, is convinced she has ruined that life having a UC career and she doesn’t want it anymore”

“God dammit. I love her so much. She is literally the love of my life. My heart is in a million pieces being apart from her. I don’t want her to give this up”

“Maybe you should let her. “

“WHAT?”

“Tim, Lucy could do so many things professionally. But there is only one person she is in love with and wants a life with. Think about it. It’s always gonna be a cloud over you both. I can see she really doesn’t have the love for it anymore. So, maybe you let her make this decision. Stop sabotaging your relationship and have your happily ever after”

As shift continued, thoughts of Lucy consumed Tim. He missed her so much. She was it for him. He had to fix this. Tim never wanted Lucy to resent him by not going after her dreams, because she deserved to have all her dreams come true. If Lucy was to walk away from what she had always wanted, he wanted to make sure it was her decision. He needed her to know he was going to be waiting for her. This breakup has shown Tim all that matters is Lucy. Living this life again was worth the fears if it meant being with the the true love of his life. Tim missed when Lucy returned at end of shift. He had a mountain of paperwork he needed to finish. By the time he was finished Lucy has already changed out and left. As soon as Tim was finished, the only thought was to see her, talk to her.

Tim pulled in front of Lucy’s apartment. Seeing her car knowing she was home. As he made his way up to her apartment, pulling out his key that she had given him months back. Suddenly, he felt wrong using it. As the door flew open, the sight in front of him broke his heart. His light, his ray of sunshine looked disheveled, eyes puffy and cheeks tear stained. “T-Tim, what are you doing here? Please, just go. I can’t do this.” Letting out a sigh. “Luce. Please let me in. I just wanna talk”

Lucy leading Tim to the sofa. Tim interlocking his hand with hers. Sense of relief she didn’t pull her hand back.

“Luce. I’m so sorry. Angela told me about you turning down OC work.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t want it anymore”

“Luce. Come on”

“WHAT?! I have lost what makes me happy. My safe place.”

“Sweetheart. You haven’t. That’s why I’m here”

“I have realized that I would rather live this life again, if it means I have you. You are my whole entire world and I don’t want to live another second without you. I love you more than anything. I can’t be without you anymore”

“Tim…”

“No, Luce. Please. I want you. These past weeks have been torture. You are worth all of it.”

“Tim. Shut up. I love you. I want us. I’m still walking away from UC. This is my decision. The love I once had for UC work isn’t the same as it was. This break has shown me what is important to me and that’s YOU. I don’t want to put you through this again. This is not the life I want. I want us to move forward. Start a family.”

“You want to start a family?”

“I do. Maybe not right at this moment but yes sooner than later”

“Lucy Chen. I don’t want to spend one more night away from you. Move in with me? We can live here till we find our perfect house. I can put my house up for sale. Or we can live there….”

Grabbing his arm to stop her boyfriends rambling.

“Tim. STOP. Yes, let’s move in together. We can figure out the details later.”

“I love you so much Lucy Chen. You have absolutely turned my life upside down in the best possible way. I’m so sorry. I failed you. I always told you I would fight for us and I didn’t”

“No Tim. We needed this to get us to see what’s important and that’s US”

“Are you sure you want to give UC up? I don’t want you to ever resent me”

“I’m sure. Somethings matter more. We matter more”

“We can talk more later about everything but Tim, take me to bed..NOW”

“My absolute pleasure”

Tim knew very soon he would be dragging Angela to a jewelry store to pick out the perfect ring. For now, he was gonna worship his girlfriend and cherish her back in his arms.

#the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #angst with a happy ending #break up #getting back together #emotional/hurt comfort #fluff #hurt tim bradford #hurt lucy chen #moving in together

7 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 2 years ago

Note

Ooh for the birthday big bang prompts how about "I might need a minute... Maybe ten."

And this is our last one! Thank you so much friends, I hope you enjoyed all of these pieces and that I brought a smile to your day!

For this one I actually cheated a little bit and combined this one with an anon prompt I had, "Reconnecting after a long time apart... like 10 years. They're both still stupid for each other. Bonus points for a meet ugly reunion."

Kismet (Kiss Me)

It was far from the first time an unexpected collision had sent her hurtling to the sidewalk. Marinette braced for impact, turning her body slightly so she wouldn’t land on her tailbone this time, and gasped in pain as her bare hands skidded across the pavement. She yelped as something hot splashed over her, and lay still for a moment, stunned.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, are you alright? Be still, take your time.” The man she had collided with crouched down beside her, a concerned hand on her arm.

“I’m all right,” Marinette assured him, pushing herself up from the pavement a little gingerly. “More or less,” she said ruefully, looking at her scraped hands. Two large hands cupped hers, but whatever he was about to say died on his lips as she looked up at him.

For a moment they just sat there in the middle of the sidewalk and stared, stupified.

Sharp features, blue eyes, the upper lip a little fuller than the lower, and that smile that was growing on his face.

It couldn’t be.

“Marinette?” he whispered.

“Luka?” she gasped, and then she threw herself at him, heedless of anything else as she wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing. “I can’t believe it’s you! I haven’t seen you in so long! Are you back in town for long?”

“Woah, woah, slow down,” Luka laughed, falling on his butt from her weight. “You’re hurt, let me see those hands again. Are you hurt anywhere else? That coffee was hot, did it burn you?”

“Oh,” Marinette said, as he helped her up, steadying her until she found her feet. He was so—tall. “Nothing bad.” She looked down at her leg, pulling the hem of her skirt up a little to check the damage. Her hose was shredded and she could see a bloody scrap on her thigh. “No worse than usual, anyway,” she said, and looked down at the wet stain across her skirt and part of her blouse. “Coffee?”

“I dropped it on you,” Luka said sheepishly. Marinette looked at him and realized his shirt was all wet as well.

“After I slammed right into you!” Marinette cried, reaching to touch his chest without thinking. The firm muscle there brought her back to reality and she jerked her hand back. “Luka, I’m so sorry, I’m still the same stupid Marinette. Are you hurt?”

“Don’t say that,” he admonished. “I’m fine.” He looked around. “Look, this is my building. Please come upstairs and let me help you get cleaned up. No—” he cut her off when she started to object. “No arguing, Marinette, I’m not letting you out of my sight until we’ve at least got those scrapes cleaned up at least. Please?”

Marinette pressed her lips together, but his eyes were fixed on her, pleading, a little of his hair flopping in his eyes in that familiar old way. Wavering, she looked back down at herself, and let out her breath in a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, okay.” She didn’t relish the idea of going home cold, wet, and bleeding, and Luka’s hand on her shoulder felt so familiar and so strange at the same time. She found she didn’t really want to leave him yet. Luka Couffaine, after all this time.

Luka bent down and picked up her bag off the sidewalk, and took her elbow gingerly, guiding her towards the steps of the apartment building. “Man, imagine meeting you here of all people,” Luka chuckled as they went up the stairs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marinette asked, pouting a little, though her thoughts had been running along similar lines.

“I mean there’s two million people in this city and I never would have expected to run into you by chance—especially not quite so literally.” His voice softened as he used his key card on the door. “It’s really good to see you, Marinette.”

She laughed, wrinkling your nose. “Because I’m really looking my best right now.”

“You look amazing,” Luka said firmly, and gave her a warm smile that made her feel all soft and gooey inside. “Really, Marinette. You’re so grown up. We were teenagers the last time we saw each other, remember. You look great.” His gaze flicked over her before he turned away to hold the door open.

“Well…thanks,” Marinette said, blushing as she went through the door. He stepped past her and she finally had a good moment to look at him as he pushed the button for the elevator. His ragged hoodie had been replaced with a well-worn but cared for leather jacket. His shoulders were broader, his jeans were still ripped and faded but fit better, and—she darted her eyes away quickly as she realized he was watching her.

“I’m so sorry for running into you like that,” Marinette said, unable to remember whether she had apologized already or not. “I just get so in my head, and usually I manage to avoid people but—”

“I’m glad you didn’t avoid me,” Luka laughed, and the sound made her feel warm all over. “Or I would be, if you weren’t hurt.” He took one of her hands again, turning it up over his own palm to look at the scratches. His hands had always dwarfed hers. She could feel the guitar calluses were still there, gentle as he was—that made Marinette happy. So many of their old friends had moved on to new passions and new dreams. It made her a little sad to see people leave behind the things they had loved so much, but that was part of growing up, she supposed.

“They’re just scratches,” she said, much later than she should have. “A quick wash and some antiseptic spray and I’ll be fine.”

“You should be more careful,” he said, and his thumb moved in half a caress. “These hands are national treasures.”

Marinette scoffed, and pulled her hand away, red-faced. The elevator opened and she stepped inside quickly, leaving Luka to follow.

“Sorry,” he said, as he pressed his floor button and stood a pace or two away from her. “I didn’t mean to—ah—”

“Flirt?” Marinette suggested, raising an eyebrow as she managed to make herself look him in the eye.

Luka chuckled. “No, I definitely meant to do that,” he said, and Marinette had to look away and pretend to fix her hair in the mirrored doors. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable though. And I meant it, for the record. I’ve seen your work. It’s amazing what those little hands of yours have accomplished.”

“Which work?” Marinette asked, and had to clear her voice to steady it as she turned back to face him. “I’ve done a lot of things.”

“The play garden at the new Children’s Hospital.” Luka ticked them off on his long fingers. “The memorial you designed downtown to commemorate akuma victims, that’s one of my favorites.”

“Adrien funded that,” Marinette reminded him. Luka raised his eyebrows at her but let it pass.

“The gown for Clara Nightingale’s Hall of Fame Induction,” he continued. “I was there, by the way, the cameras didn’t do it justice at all.”

“They never do,” Marinette said, pouting. It was one of the great burdens of her life.

“They don’t do you justice either,” Luka grinned, taking a step towards her.

“I could say the same to you,” Marinette shot back, though she was having to work to stand her ground, and he laughed. Marinette’s heart seemed to leap into her throat for a moment as he took another step towards her, but the doors slid open behind her, and Luka took her elbow again, turning her gently and walking her out of the elevator.

“They never get my best angle,” he complained.

“Oh, which angle is that?” Marinette asked teasingly, though she knew it was his profile. He’d always had the most striking profile, and now—

He let go of her arm and took a few more steps in front of her, and Marinette found herself suddenly having to revise her opinion of his best angle. Before she could trip over her tongue, though, he turned, striking a dramatic pose with his hand on his chin. Marinette couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up.

“You’ll never be able to pull off catalog model dressed like that,” she told him.

“I’ve been repeatedly told I’m hopeless with the cameras,” Luka sighed mournfully. He motioned for her to keep following him, and she trailed after him until he stopped in front of one of the apartment doors.

“Whoever said that was lying,” Marinette said, folding her arms as she stood awkwardly beside him while he unlocked the door. “Your posters always look amazing. And don’t tell me it’s photoshop,” she added before he could speak. “Not while I’m standing here looking at you.” She actually dared to give him a quick up-and-down beneath her lashes. That actually made him blush, which gave Marinette a rush of glee.

Luka got the door open and motioned for her to go through. She gave him a little smirk, and maybe put a little extra sway in her hips as she stepped past him. She wasn’t sure where to go though, and she just took a few steps forward before standing awkwardly in his living room. She suddenly remembered what she must look like right now, soaked in cold coffee, with bleeding hands. She couldn’t sit on his furniture like this.

“Give me one second to change,” Luka said, walking by her. “And then we’ll get you patched up, and you can have free run of my bathroom and closet to clean up.” He slipped his leather jacket off his shoulders and tossed it over the back of his couch, and then pulled his shirt over his head as he was walking towards his bedroom. He tossed it at the alcove where his laundry machines were visible through the half-open folding door, and looked over his shoulder to wink at her. “Be right back.”

Marinette’s knees felt weak. Those shoulders, and that back—he had a tattoo of a rearing cobra stretching up his spine from his lower back, and—

He did that on purpose, she thought. She hadn’t seen him in at least a decade and here he was flirting with her in less than ten minutes of meeting her again. And she was flirting back.

The worst part was, Marinette liked it. A lot. It was intoxicating to think she still had a place in his heart all these years later.

Or maybe he was just taunting her with what she’d thrown away.

She pushed away that ugly little thought. Luka would have to have changed radically from the boy she knew to hold a grudge like that, especially when they had just been kids at the time. He was a well-known artist now, both for his work on other people’s albums and on the few of his own he had released. Like always, he was forging his own path, taking opportunities that appealed to him as they came, without following any of the typical paths to success.

No, she’d heard enough of his music to believe he hadn’t changed all that much. Surely his heart and soul had matured as much as his body, but not into something she wouldn’t recognize.

“Sorry if I weirded you out, about knowing your work,” Luka said, as he emerged from the bedroom, in a clean, plain white t-shirt and jeans that were equally faded and ripped but at least free of coffee stains. There was a towel draped over one arm and a white box in his hands. “I promise I’m not stalking you or anything, it’s just your name still strikes a chord whenever I hear it.” He darted a glance at her, and then looked down at the box.

Marinette smiled. “I didn’t mind. I have all of your albums, so it’s fair.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, looking extraordinarily pleased at that. “Thanks. Come here.” He indicated the couch with a tilt of his head. He put the towel down on the couch seat. “Not because I care,” he said, looking at her with a sideways grin. “But I know you won’t sit if you think you’re going to get my couch dirty.” He sat down beside the towel and patted it.

Marinette sat gingerly on it, leaning her weight a little away from her scraped thigh. Luka took a bottle labeled wound wash out of the box, and a cotton cloth.

“Hands,” he murmured, glancing up at her, and she held them out. Luka put the liquid on the cloth and then cradled her hand in his as he dabbed carefully. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he murmured, and his soft voice sent shivers up Marinette’s spine.

“You’ve never hurt me,” she replied, keeping her own voice quiet for no reason she could identify. Luka’s eyes flicked up to her face again and he sighed quietly, but didn’t say anything. “I never meant to hurt you either,” she added, even more quietly.

“I know,” Luka smiled, and then added in a more normal tone, “Were you on your way anywhere? Did you need to call anyone?”

“No, I’m good.” Marinette smiled at him. “I just finished up my client meetings for the day and I was going home to type up the notes, but there’s no rush. No one, um. No one’s waiting for me or anything.”

Another flick of those eyes to her face, and she held his gaze. “Cool,” he said after a moment, dropping his gaze. She thought he might be blushing again, but his hair kept her from getting a good look. He switched to a clean part of the cloth, rewet it, and began cleaning her other hand.

Marinette looked around his apartment. It was all solid colors, no patterns or anything. Calming, though. It could use some plants, she thought, just to give it a little life.

“I haven’t done much decorating,” Luka commented, and she turned her eyes back to him, an amused smile quirking her mouth. Perceptive as ever. “It’s just me here,” he continued, “and somehow I never think of doing much with the place.”

“It looks comfortable,” she said diplomatically, as he released her hand. So he was single too, or at least that’s what she thought he was saying. Should she be excited about that? There was a flutter in her chest that suggested she was, whether she thought she should be or not. Did she have a chance? Did she want a chance? The flutter turned to a bubble of panic in her chest at the thought and she felt her breathing quicken.

“It’s comfortable enough for me,” Luka was saying, and then he frowned at her. “You’re sure I’m not hurting you?”

Marinette shook her head. Even so, he offered her the tube of ointment he pulled out of the kit. A little disappointed, and at the same time relieved to have a moment to get herself back together, Marinette took it and dabbed it on her scrapes. She let Luka put a couple of bandaids over the worst of them, on the heels of her hand. He was so gentle, and she found her gaze lingering on the line of his jaw and the wrinkle in his brow as he concentrated, and…

“All right, let’s see the leg,” he said. Marinette felt her face heat, but she crossed the injured leg over her other leg, and pulled her skirt up enough to show the scrape along her thigh, rolling to the side a little to make the injury easier to reach. She saw plainly on Luka’s face that he hadn’t thought this through and bit her lip to keep from giggling at him. He looked away for a moment, swallowing, and Marinette took the opportunity to rip the shredded hose open. She wasn’t quite bold enough to shimmy off her stockings in front of him, and they were clearly ruined anyway. Easiest just to tear them. Luka took a deep breath and blew it out slowly before he picked up the cloth again.

Luka wet another section of the cloth with the antiseptic and offered it to her. “Would you rather do this yourself?”

Definitely not changed. Marinette shook her head. “It’s fine, go ahead.”

Luka did, as carefully and gently as he had with her hands, but she was sure he was blushing now. It took some ingenuity to figure out how to cover the wider parts of this scrape with bandages, and Luka winced a little when he watched her move.

“I’ve had worse,” she said, before he could even say anything, and pulled her skirt down. She uncrossed her legs and stood up. “I’d really like to get out of these wet clothes now, if it’s okay.” She needed a minute to think. Before she did something stupid.

“Of course.” He stood and she followed. Luka held the door to his bedroom open for her. “Bathroom’s through there,” he pointed. “Help yourself to anything in my closet. I can put your clothes in the wash if you want.”

“No, thank you, I’d rather wash them myself,” Marinette said, going through the door and setting her bag on Luka’s unmade bed. “Are you sure you don’t mind me going through your things?” She turned and faced him. “Anything I should stay away from?”

Luka shook his head. “Nobody’s stuff here but mine, and you’re welcome to whatever you decide to take.” They looked at each other for a moment before he jolted back to himself. “Well, take your time then,” he said, and went back out to the living room, shutting the door behind him.

Marinette looked around, taking in the mostly neat room. The bedsheets were rumpled, and there was a haphazard scattering of jewelry on the dresser. The nightstand was covered in guitar picks, bits of paper, business cards, half-burying his alarm clock and surrounding a silver picture frame—

Marinette shut her eyes tight, and took a breath. She wasn’t here to snoop. She turned resolutely towards the bathroom door and opened her eyes. First things first. Her clothes were going to be ruined if she didn’t start some damage control soon.

It felt weird, undressing in Luka’s bathroom, and her gaze kept darting around no matter how much she tried to keep her mind on her task. Her shredded hose she just threw away, but she filled his sink to soak her blouse and skirt. She could ask him for some vinegar and dish soap once she was dressed again.

Her skin was pink where the hot coffee had soaked through her blouse, but when she gingerly touched the spot, it didn’t hurt. She snagged a clean washcloth from a cabinet and cleaned up.

Then she realized she was going to have to walk across Luka’s room and go digging through his closet in just her underwear. Wonderful. It was probably a stupid thing to feel weird about, Luka was trustworthy, it wasn’t like he would suddenly come to check on her and get an eyeful and—

Marinette groaned, and grabbed a towel to wrap around herself. That line of thought was coming perilously close to a fantasy and she didn’t need to be thinking that way right now. Not when the real Luka had been so clearly flirting with her.

She secured the towel and quickly crossed the bedroom into his walk-in closet, breathing out slowly once she was there. He had been flirting with her, right? Her traitorous mind didn’t want to let the thought go even as she stood there looking around at his clothes. What would he miss the least, she thought. She looked at the top shelves of the closet. There were some folded clothes piled up there haphazardly. Maybe that was worth a try. Surely if he wore it regularly it would be easier to get to. Luka was tall, but not tall enough to make rummaging through a pile like that. She looked around, and then peeked back out in the bedroom until she spotted the vanity chair.

Marinette fetched the chair and brought it to the closet, climbing up carefully. The last thing she needed was to fall again and have Luka come rushing in here to find her on the floor, towel falling off, and—

She shook her head and reached for the stack of clothes. She tried to only grab the top layer or two, but the whole pile came down. Marinette shielded her head and muffled her shriek of surprise. Then she rolled her eyes and got down from the chair with a sigh. At least she hadn’t fallen and added to her collection of bruises.

She sat on the chair and bent down to sort through the pile. A piece of torn white fabric caught her eye, and without really knowing why, she grabbed it and pulled it out.

It was a white t-shirt with a faded black Jagged Stone logo on it, ripped along the bottom half but still mostly in one piece. Marinette felt like she’d been hit with a time portal and shoved back onto the Liberty ten years ago. The memory was so sharp and visceral that her breath caught and tears formed in her eyes. Why had she ever let go of that feeling?

For a moment she just sat there, staring at the shirt in her hands. Luka. Luka had come back into her life by some miracle and…and she’d been acting like this was just another old friend she’d missed. Luka was so much more than that.

Or at least…he had been.

Maybe…maybe he still could be.

He’d been flirting with her. He was attracted to her, she was pretty sure. He knew she was single, and he’d made sure she knew he was single. When Marinette asked herself if she was attracted to him, the answer was resounding and unequivocal. And if the man who’d been flirting with her was anything like the boy she remembered…maybe she could finally put some regrets to rest.

She wanted that chance. She really did. She didn’t want to leave here wondering what could have happened.

It might be pointless. It might be Luka wasn’t actually interested in her, or that he was only interested in…well.

Then again, there was no reason for her to turn that down, either, so she could always play it off if his interest was only physical. But…if he wanted more…so did she.

Pursing her lips in determination, Marinette pulled on the worn shirt over her head and set about finding something suitable to wear on the bottom. Preferably something that left her legs bare, given the way he’d been staring earlier. That would be a clear enough message, right?

***

Luka was sitting on his couch with his face in his hands, trying to breathe as he processed the last half hour.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. What were the odds that of all the people in Paris he could have spilled his coffee on, it would be her.

He’d seen pictures of her, of course, from various events and news articles, always with those stunning eyes that even in black and white seemed to reach out and grab him by the throat. He’d forgotten how much more intense the effect was in person. She’d grown into herself, too, and adult confidence looked good on her. Really good.

Luka had really just wanted her to know it, but then she had flirted back with him, and like the dumbass he was he had leaned into it, and now he was sitting in his living room trying desperately not to think about her gorgeous legs while Marinette Dupain-freaking-Cheng went through his closet. He wasn’t even going to think of her using his washcloths and towels. Thank God he’d gone ahead and paid for that cleaning service. At least he knew the place was presentable.

He thought of the way she had looked at him. Teased him. Complimented him, which the old Marinette would never have been able to do without butchering an entire dictionary. He had to smile when he thought of it. Luka let his hands drop and rubbed them on his knees. There were a lot of questions swirling around in his brain, and he was a little ashamed of himself that after all this time, one of them was, do I have a chance?

His thoughts chased themselves around until the opening of the bedroom door made him jump.

“I can't believe you still have this thing,” Marinette said as she came out of the bedroom.

Oh, God, she was trying to kill him. Marinette stood there in his old Jagged Stone t-shirt that he had never been able to bring himself to throw away. It was still so long on her that the rips started just above her hips, baring only the hint of her stomach above the waistband of a pair of his cutoffs. They were hanging low on her hips, belted with…bandanas? He jerked his eyes up, but the way grown-up Marinette filled out that old t-shirt made it hard to drag them to a socially acceptable level. “I can't believe how good it looks on you,” he said, and had to swallow as he realized she had taken her hair down and redone it in her old pigtails.

Marinette stopped in front of him, so that he was looking up at her (eyes up, Couffaine) and put her hands on her hips. “So is this flirting thing part of the whole rockstar image?”

He grinned up at her, trying not to show how his heart was beating. “I've always wanted to flirt with you, Marinette. Hopefully I'm just better at it now. If you don't like it, I'll stop.”

She bit her lip, and Luka closed his hands tightly on his knees. “I’ll let you know,” she said after a moment, and then flopped on the couch next to him. “It’s really good to see you again.” She nudged his arm with hers. “You could have let me know you were back in town.”

Luka winced. “I thought about it,” he admitted. “I just kept talking myself out of it. Seems really stupid, now that I’m sitting here looking at you.” He smiled at her, feeling his expression go soft and fond and not having any real inclination to hide it. “You’ve changed a lot, and not at all, at the same time.”

She looked back at him, tucking her folded hands between her knees. “Have you changed?”

Luka swallowed, lost in her eyes. “Not very much, apparently. Marinette, can I kiss you?”

She was so caught by surprise that she couldn’t answer right away. Damn his runaway mouth, but he was in it now and he might as well commit. “I’ve always regretted that I never kissed you when I had the chance. I’m not going to let you leave without at least asking. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, though.” Stupid. He should have waited, until she wasn’t stuck in his apartment, wearing his clothes. They hadn’t spoken in ten years, it had only been twenty minutes since they ran into each other, she was practically trapped here with him, and he was making a move on her like the same idiot teenager he’d been when—but she had come out here with those clothes and that hair like his favorite fantasies come to life, and he just—

“Okay,” Marinette said, quietly, but with a smile on her face.

He leaned in and cupped her cheek and kissed her, softly at first, ready to pull away if she wanted, but she put her arms around his neck and angled her face to meet him, and they quickly melted into something deeper, harder, hotter.

When she climbed into his lap he gave up any pretense of holding back. Her scent, her lips, her skin, the way she moved. He made a strangled noise and let his head fall back as she rose up over him, filling his vision with those gorgeous eyes he’d sung about so many times.

“So, um,” she whispered as he panted against her lips. “Since I ruined your coffee…can I buy you another?”

Luka grinned. “How about we do dinner instead, and you can b-buy dessert?” He nearly bit his tongue, but if anything Marinette lit up even more, and when she put her forehead against his and giggled, Luka knew. He knew he wasn’t letting go of her anytime soon. Ever, if he had his choice.

She sat back a little and smiled. Her lips were even more gorgeous with a smear of pink lipstick at the corner, plumped from kissing. From kissing him. “That sounds good to me. Know anywhere good?” she asked.

“Yeah. Um…I might need a minute,” Luka admitted breathlessly. Marinette shifted in his lap, a mischievous tilt to her grin telling him she knew exactly what she was doing to him. “Maybe ten,” he amended, voice strained. She was absolutely going to kill him, and death had never looked so appealing.

The movement seemed torturously slow when she bent down and pressed her mouth to his again, lingering in a soft, sensual kiss that made his toes curl in his boots. Whatever else she’d learned over the years, she was a damn good kisser. Then she pecked his nose. “I’ll let you pull yourself together,” she whispered, and slid off his lap.

Luka whined, covering his face with his hands so he couldn’t watch her walk away. He was looking forward to seeing her name tangled with his and splashed all over the tabloid covers.

AO3 Works | Fiction Master Post

#birthday big bang #kismet (kiss me)#lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #pro lukamari

53 notes · View notes

phoenixcatch7 · 10 months ago

Text

Just finished bayonetta and honestly it was SO GOOD. FanTASTIC game. Final thoughts:

The final boss fights were both a million times easier than expected but they were over fast enough the hype hadn't had time to run out (and the manic pixie dream girl style bayonetta playlist I had blasting didn't hurt either XD. Hard to be irked when you've got Bling Bling firing at twice speed while you fight a giant hair tentacle lady with face missiles IN SPACE).

Also going in knowing the bayo 2 ending is so much worse because you can see how 500yrs of loptr has just eroded him into a shell of himself ToT. This weapon flailing peacock wearing ash white lunatic is so far from the righteous, devoted warrior who loved his family above all else 😭. He's still wearing his wedding ring!!! And he dotes on tiny cereza whom he never got to hold, but that's it. That's all that's left...

Bayo 2 did the sequel plot twist thing so good, because you can see so much more of loptr in him than balder. The speech rhythm, the weirdly crooning faux polite monologuing, the rippling blue of his eye and outfit despite all his magic (both in this and the next game) being gold?? Yeah!!!

The peacock feathers in his boss fight though,,,,, sooooo pretty. They moved so beautifully, it really had so much elegance and grace, even when I was chopping him up 😍

Him and Jubileus were kinda cheese though. Like, the final Jeanne boss fight was a million times harder and with so much high stakes (having to redo the missile section again). I died like THREE times, and one was because I was curious as to what would happen if I threw Jubileus into a planet (spoiler - she did not in fact take damage but instead shook herself off with an evil grin and one shotted me, boo).

The dance video was so much better than I expected! She moves so fast lmao. There's a lot of repetitive moves but she does it at such speed!! It looks like such a fun dance too lol.

And!! I unlocked the gallery and stuff!!! 100/10 it was an absolute blast to look through and listen to the music, I literally examined every single model and every single piece of concept art. Bayonetta's designs were all amazing but no one told me how feminine every SINGLE character was posed!!! Crying laughing. Everyone had their legs like a meter apart apart from balders 'rich new widow meeting the police at her door' energy.

New drinking game: go through the enemy/demon models and take a shot for every face/human skull you see. It's so creepy lol. Phenomenal character design on all fronts!

Got 10,000 halos for finishing the game and immediately spent it all on the super outfit maker thing. I deserved it!!

Also apparently I got an achievement for using 20 wicked weaves with dodge offset, which is hysterical given I still don't know how to do dodge offset. Still don't know any combos either! It's a miracle I made it this far XD.

The characters are great, even the bosses have little interactions with bayonetta (mostly her cutting them off and shooting them lmao) and the found family energy the bayo/cereza/luka trio had was off the charts, but I'm so glad they didn't go through with it like every male/female leads ever. It has a way of flattening everyone involved :/.

The final cutscene totally happened because bayonetta and Jeanne got together with rodin like 'okay the angels probably think she's actually dead. This is our only chance to do something SO funny' like Enzo and poor luka fully thought she was dead. Jeanne called her nun outfit cosplay. Rodin stole enzos cig and lectured him while he accidentally protected him from falling coffin lids XD. With the intermittent fight scenes in the credits, the dance video, the amount of unlocks I got, what a way to end the game!!

In conclusion - this was definitely a game I'm going to replay and try to 100% (maybe not platinum style, but everything else lol), and it's so obvious how much thought, effort and love was put into it. A masterpiece but also very clearly an older game (the lack of save points and a good place to practice combos, combined with the painfully long chase segments both attest to that). Something I've thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of and something I'm most definitely going to come back to for a while to come.

Kinda want to get bayo 2 now... Do you think they still sell it on cd?

#bayonetta #cereza #video games #videogame #absolute nonsense of a game I love it

6 notes · View notes

midnightcreator12 · 1 year ago

Text

More Chula in Mutant Mayhem

Because @lemoncatzz gave me ideas with this VV

Mutant Mayhem Spoilers below the Keep Reading! Enjoy!

Raph was a bit salty.

Because Leo had insisted they go straight home after errands. Again.

They’d even finished early! They technically could get in some fun before Pops started blowing up their phones.

But noooo, Leo wanted to go straight home and he was being weirdly stubborn about it tonight.

So Raph handed his share of the supplies off to Donnie and proceeded to retaliate.

By doing something he knew Leo hated.

Doing flips as close to the edge of the roof as he could.

Leo noticed after the fourth flip, “Raph, you’re going to fall doing that!”

Raph rolled his eyes, “Sure, yeah, I’ve done this a million times but today, I’m gonna fall.”

“You could!” Leo protested.

“You know he’s just doing that to rile you up, right?” Mikey piped in.

Raph shot him a glare, he did not need to lose this small act of rebellion. It worked way too well to frustrate the hell out of Leo, because he didn’t want Raph doing it but he wouldn’t try grabbing Raph in case it made him lose balance.

So all he could do was glare and scold.

Both of which were really silly coming from a guy Raph had grown up with.

“Hey guys, you ever seen a red turtle?” Raph grinned, landing his flip before dropping into a handstand.

“Uhhh, Raph,” Donnie said. “I think that’s a bad-”

“Rapheal, don’t you dare!” Leo interrupted.

Raph ignored them both, muscles coiling in preparation for his flip.

He launched without any effort, easily pulling off the flip and bracing for the landing.

Only he landed a little too far to the left.

And his foot slipped.

He heard Leo scream, saw his face go from irritated to horrified.

And then he was falling straight for the sidewalk below.

Raph grabbed at the air, trying to right himself, get a handhold on the apartment building, something to stop him falling-!

And suddenly all the air left his body.

Raph gasped as what he was pretty sure was a steel pole digging into his middle. He grabbed at it, clinging for dear life and thanking the universe that someone had a flagpole out-

Except when he looked down that definitely was not a flagpole he was holding onto.

It looked like an…armored arm?

And now that he could somewhat pull air into his lungs, he could feel his shell was against a very solid something that did not feel like concrete… and he was still dangling over the sidewalk.

He twisted, because someone had grab him and no way was he getting kidnapped by a human today-

“Hey, hey, hang on, I don’t wanna drop you Ra- aascal…” a female voice, almost robotic, said right next to Raph’s head.

And he froze because, really, what other options did he have? His life was literally in the hands of…whoever this lady was!

So he clung and stared down, huffing air into his chest.

“RAPH!”

His head shot up and- god, he fell a long way, how had he gotten so far in only a few seconds?- but he could see Leo, staring down at him wide-eyed.

“Raph!” Mikey popped up next to Leo. “Are you dead?”

“He’s fine!” the woman answered for him, voice booming. “You kids stay right there! I’ll bring him up!”

“Who the heck are you?” Donnie appeared, voice cracking horribly as he yelled.

“A friend!” the woman replied before lowering her voice again. “Hey, ade, I’m gonna need you to get on my back for a bit. I can’t climb with one hand.”

Raph wiggled again, trying to get a look at the lady who caught him.

He managed to get a glimpse of a black visor surrounded by a black and gold helmet..

Raph frowned as he managed to take in more detail, including the forehead piece that swooped up into two, ear-like points on either side of her head, “Are you, like, trying to do a Batman?”

The woman snorted and Raph realized the ‘robotic’ sound to her voice was just whatever speaker that was in the helmet so he could hear her, “Not quite. How about I explain where we’re not hanging onto the side of a building?”

…yeah, she had a point there.

It was a little awkward, but the lady didn’t let go of Raph until he had a solid grip on her shoulder and arm. Even then she only loosened her hold enough for Raph to get his arms around her neck.

But in the end, it only took less than a minute for him to end up koala clinging to the woman’s back. He looked up, squinting in search of a grapple line or rope or-

“...how are you holding on like that?” Raph gasped. Because she was digging her fingers into the wall. The very, very solid wall that she was just casually hanging from with one hand.

“Oh, you think that’s cool?” the woman chuckled. “Check this out.”

Now that her other arm was turtle free, she reached up and dug huge claws right into the brick. Raph watched as she started scaling up the building, claws digging in like the wall was made of dirt, “...you some kind of gargoyle?”

She laughed again, “Naw, just a freak of nature.”

…she was a mutant?

Before Raph could contemplate that thought there were suddenly hands grabbing him and pulling. He yelped as his brothers dragged him up the last foot of the climb and back onto solid ground.

“Of all the stupid, reckless,idiotic things you’ve pulled Raph, I swear-” Leo was doing that thing under his breath that made him sound way too much like dad as he pretty much dragged Raph away.

Raph didn’t even get a chance to reply before Leo was unsheathing his katanas and putting himself between his three brothers and the edge of the rooftop.

Where a very, very massive, fully armored figure was climbing her way up.

Ooh-boy, he had not noticed how tall she was on the climb up.

And he very much doubted Leo could take her.

Despite how determined he looked to try.

“Who- who the heck are you?” Leo probably would have sounded more intimidating if his voice didn’t crack half-way through the question.

The woman stooped slightly, head tipping down, “Ah, yeah, hang on.” She reached up, slipping the helmet off-

Okay, weird human face with pointy ears and red stripes. Definitely a new one on the mutant scale….even if the only other mutant on that scale were four turtles and a rat.

Leo tensed, taking a step back, “Are…you’re a-”

“Oh my gosh, she’s a mutant!” Mikey gasped, bouncing up and trying to run around Leo. “We didn’t know there were other mutants!”

“Mikey,” Leo hissed under his breath. “Stranger danger? Remember that one?”

“I mean, she did save Raph from being a green puddle,” Donnie pointed out.

The woman raised a hand, “If it helps? I have a very strict rule about hurting kids.”

“We’re not kids, we’re fifteen!” Leo said. “And you didn’t answer my first question!”

“Ah, right, right,” the woman nodded. “Chula Verd, nice to meet you all. Might wanna check the big guy's ribs, kinda grab him harder than I wanted.”

“I’m fine!” Raph protest, scrabbling up. “See? Completely fine!”

It was almost funny, the fact that Leo and Chula had almost matching ‘oh, really’ expressions.

But Leo’s distraction gave Mikey an opportunity to slip around him and grab Chula’s arm, “Sooo, what kinda mutant are you? I mean, the stripes and the eyes read tiger. Are you a tiger?”

“Ah, not exactly,” Chula crouched further, getting on eye level with Mikey. “I’m actually an alien.”

“Shut the front door!” And now Donnie was very interested, ditching Raph entirely to beeline for Chula. “You’re an alien!? This- this is amazing! Oh, I have so many questions! Which planet are you from? Are you from Mars? Is there actually life on Mars? Or- or are you from further away?” he gasped, eyes getting even wider somehow. “Did you come here on a spaceship? Where’s your spaceship?!”

“Okay, okay, air, air is important,” Chula reached up, like she was about to pat Donnie on the head.

Leo zipped forward and snagged Mikey and Donnie by their belts, dragging both back and shoving slightly dented groceries into their arms, “Yeah, yeah, very cool, nice to meet you. Thanks for saving my brother but we really gotta go now!”

“Wait, Leo-”

“No, no, we can’t go yet-!”

“Leo, man, she didn’t even do anything-” Raph glanced over to Chula, who was watching them argue with Leo with…an almost sad smile?

“You kids run along,” Chula’s voice boomed over the brother's protests. “I’ll be around. Just, no more jumping off buildings to get my attention, kay?”

“Hang on-!” Mikey started.

Chula slipped her helmet back on, took a small jump back and disappeared off the roof.

All four turtles yelped and ran for the edge.

She was barely visible, the black of her armor blending in with the dark street below. But they could see her swinging from a grapple line, arching up cleanly and landing on a fire escape across the street. She climbed it, scaling the side with powerful leaps to reach the top before disappearing into the city smog.

“Nice going Leo,” Donnie grumbled. “You just scared off the only known alien on Earth!”

“Forget that,” Mikey gestured to where she’d disappeared. “You scared off someone else like us! What if she knows more!”

“Guys, come on, you can’t just trust some random adult that showed up out of nowhere,” Leo’s protest sounded pretty weak to Raph.

He shoulder-checked Leo as he started picking up the bags, “Dude, in case you forgot, she caught me.”

“Which wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t being reckless in the first place.”

“Oh boy, here they go,” Donnie sighed.

—------------------

“There you go, widen your stance a bit, that’s it!”

Donnie frowned in concentration, trying to keep his form correct as he slowly circled Chula.

It had taken a few weeks and a lot of pushing Leo, but they managed to convince him that Chula wasn’t going to whisk them away to space or was secretly a human in disguise trying to kidnap them.

And, of course, Donnie had dozens of questions about everything and one line of questioning had led to her mentioning her planet had a very warrior centered culture.

Which somehow led to extra training lessons on the rooftops that, so far, mostly consisted of them trying to just land a hit on her and her easily dodging them.

But not tonight! They had a plan tonight! They were going to get a hit in!

Even if the first two rounds hadn’t worked out for them so far…but they were getting close!

“Mikey, nunchuck under the arm until you’re ready to start building power, you’re gonna hit yourself in the face again.”

“I got this,” Mikey smirked, already side-stepping into position and glancing at Raph. Raph nodded subtlety, glancing at Leo.

Donnie tightened his grip on his bo.

Raph moved first, leaping up with a yell, sai at the ready. Chula brought up her arm, blocking the attack with her vembrace and spinning her staff behind her back in time to block Leo’s blades. Both turtles yelped as she spun, throwing them off and bringing her staff up in time for Mikey’s chucks to crack against the metal.

Her helmet tilted and Mikey playfully bared his teeth before jumping away, making room for Leo to try and land another hit. Steel clashed against steel as Leo tried to break her defense while Chula let him push her back.

They all knew she wasn’t going all out and that she was letting them have small victories before she demolished them all.

They had factored it into the plan.

Donnie held back, watching as she maneuvered back. Just a few more steps-

He moved, silent as a ninja as he brought his bo up and swung-

Chula turned just in time for the wood to hit her.

Right in the visor with a very loud crack.

All four turtles gasped.

“Oh snap!”

“Oh my gosh, that wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Dude! You got her in the face!”

“Oh shell, I am so, so, sorry- ack!” Donnie had been reaching out, to see if he’d damaged anything, but he was suddenly scooped up and being crushed against a solid chestplate.

Chula growled, “If I was an enemy, hesitating would’ve gotten you in trouble.”

Donnie gulped.

“...but since I am your very cool Space Aunt,” Donnie squealed as she spun him, her grab morphing into a full hug. “You little womp-rats did so well! Oh, that plan was flawless! If you’d kept up the attacks you would’ve had me for sure!”

“Uh, it was my plan, actually,” Leo said. “But Donnie wasn’t supposed to hit you in the face.”

“Oh, pffft,” Chula scoffed. “I’ve been hit harder without even a scratch on this armor. No offense meant Donnie, your hit was very good, rattled me real well for a second!”

“Haha, thanks…” Donnie chuckled. “Can you put me down now?”

“Ah, right,” Chula released him, patting his head when his feet hit the ground. “You did do awesome, though.”

“Thanks,” Donnie grinned up at her.

And then promptly rammed his staff into her side before zipping away.

“You lil sneak, come ‘ere!”

“Guys, protect me!”

“On it,” Raph crowed as launched himself at Chula.

—--------

“Heeey, buddy, you okay?”

Mikey huffed, tucking himself into a tighter ball.

“That bad, huh,” Chula settled next to him on the rooftop, dangling her legs over the edge. “Wanna talk about it?”

Mikey sniffed, rubbing at his beak, “Why can’t we ever just try to talk to humans? They can’t all be bad, right?”

“Ah, oh boy,” Chula shifted next to him, clearly trying to think on how to reply.

Mikey huffed again, “You think the same as Dad does? That they’ll just kidnap us and milk us?”

“...okay, I do not want to know the logic behind ‘milking’ you kids, but… Look, Mikey, I would love to tell you that your chances of finding a good and understanding human who will accept you all is really high… but most humans? They judge first and fast and that first impression is rarely good.”

“So we’re stuck hiding in the sewers forever. Great.”

Chula was silent for a few moments.

Mikey felt her lean closer and felt the weight of her arm around his shoulders, “I can’t tell you fully why I know this but I can tell you one thing in complete confidence.”

Mikey snorted. Chula had a habit of dropping little tidbits and adding on why she knew it was ‘forbidden knowledge’ that she couldn’t tell them yet. But he honestly wanted a bit of anything to look forward to so he lifted his head up to look at her.

She smiled, wide and genuine, “It’s gonna get better soon. Your lil’ social circle is gonna get bigger and there will be so many people who love you as you are and will protect you from the world.”

Mikey frowned, “...doesn’t feel like it when you and Dad heap on the ‘you can’t trust humans’ message.”

“Well, you can’t force fate,” Chula chuckled. “Walking up to random people is just a gamble. But the right moment with the right people? That’s gonna be unavoidable. Trust me, you’ll get out of the sewer soon, just give it a little more time?”

Mikey still felt unsure but…Chula didn’t make a habit of lying to them.

So he leaned into her side, “Do you remember all the words to Sunshine?”

She chuckled, “Course, you do request it a lot.”

Mikey grinned, “It sounds so pretty when you sing it.”

Chula hummed before her voice slowly rose into the first verse of the song, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray~”

—-----------

April didn’t know what to do.

Everything had gone so wrong so fast. The boys got kidnapped by some military guys, Superfly got the last machine part, and she had no clue where the boys were, and Manhattan was about to be mutant mayhem ground zero, and the guys got kidnapped!

Everything about this was…so messed up!

“What do I do, what do I do?” April muttered as she paced the spot the turtles had been snatched. Those suits had cleared pretty much everything big, even the van was gone. She couldn’t call the cops, couldn’t call her parents, maybe their Dad? But their Dad hated humans and they were ninjas! What if their ninja rat dad just karate chopped her throat-

Something very big and heavy crashed to the pavement right behind April, followed by a deep, growling voice, “Who the fuck are you?”

April slowly turned, looking up, up…whoa, waaaay up, into a black visored helmet.

Her chest suddenly felt tight, her throat felt like it was swelling, the foreboding bubbling was starting in her guts.

“...well?”

“Hi, I’m April, please don’t kill me!”

And like a switch, suddenly the towering woman relaxed. April wasn’t sure how someone could just turn intimidation off but somehow she did!

“Oh, O’Neil, good, that’s good, hang on a tick?” She lumbered off, helmet moving back and forth as she scanned the ground.

And April was very happy she wasn’t looming threateningly and bleeding murderous intent over her anymore but- “How do you know my last name? Aaaand follow up, who are you?”

“Chula Verd, I’ve been hangin’ out with the turtles for, oh, two months now? And I know your last name because of forbidden knowledge.”

“...what?”

“That’s all you're getting… haar’chak, you gotta be kiddin’.”

April watched, still confused as Chula crouched and picked up something tiny from the road, “What’s that?”

“Signal beacon I gave to the boys. They must’ve dropped it,” Chula growled before turning back to April. “I need to know everything you saw.”

“What makes you think-”

“Oh for Ashla’s sake- I know you saw what happened, now tell me what you remember before something bad happens to the boys!”

But April couldn't remember anything helpful! Everything had been moving too fast and the military guys were too far away and they were long gone by the time she got down off the bridge…wait…

“The van!” April barked out, louder than she meant. “Ah, erm, I saw their van! It said TCRI!”

“Of course, another constant,” Chula muttered. “Right, do you have maps apps yet?”

“Uh?” The hell did she mean by ‘yet’? “Yes?”

“Great, do you know where the Lair is? No, dumb question, you definitely do, go get their dad and get to the TCRI buildin’. The boys will be there.”

“What, wait, what?! H-hang on!” April grabbed Chula’s arm before she could walk away. “Where are you going?!”

“TCRI?”

“By yourself!?”

“Yeah,” Chula’s helmet tilted. “What, you think a bunch of maybe alien brain people will stop me?”

“...you make less sense the more you talk.”

“And you’re best friends are mutant turtle ninja teens,” Chula slipped out of April's grip, lifting an arm and shooting out a grapple line. “I’ll be fine, just go get Splints and meet us there!”

“Wait-” April started again but Chula already activated…something that dragged her up onto a bridge and out of sight. “....sheesh, Batman fangirl much? Okay, okay, Lair, I remember where that is, gotta go get Splinter.”

—------------

Leo was trying very hard not to look at his Dad.

Or Chula.

Chula more so, if he was honest. Because between the two, she would have actually been on board with his and his brother's plan.

Whenever being normal came up, she would get sad and nod along with their woes, saying she wished humans were different. She wanted them to be accepted and didn’t think all humans were evil.

But Leo had pushed his brothers to not tell her. Because he wanted this to be their victory, wanted them to actually do this, prove he was a good leader…

And he blew it. He got everyone kidnapped and practically handed Superfly the last part on a silver platter. And Chula had to come in and save them anyway.

Stupid, stupid, why did he think any of this was a good idea-

“You’re too deep in your own head again.”

Leo tensed, looking up and realizing that he’d fallen behind.

And Chula had slowed to run alongside him.

“Look, I know I messed up, can we please just…just finish this?”

“...See, I want to disagree on that but…yeah, you did mess up some.”

Leo sighed, “Yeah, I just said-”

“Ah, ah, I’m not done,” Chula interrupted. “You messed up when you didn’t have a plan B ready, when you didn’t tell me or Splints what was going on, probably in a few more places because this is technically your first real mission and you young. But, and I’m going out on a limb, I’m guessin’ you boys did this in hopes that Superfly was just another human crook you could bring in and get some positive press?”

“I mean…” Leo sighed. “Yeah…but we were doing the right thing for the wrong reason, like April said.”

He could almost feel the raised eye-brow Chula shot him, “Mmm, yeah, no, get rid of that thought. You just wanted to not have to hide to be safe anymore, that’s a damn good reason Leo. You just needed to work on your execution a little.”

Leo huffed, “...you said things would get better for us. But this feel like everything is just getting worse.”

“I did say that and I stand by it” Chula nodded. “...look, I know it doesn’t seem like it, but things are goin’ to get better. And if nothing else? You guys got to meet April.”

“Like Dad is ever going to let us topside again. We kept two secret friends from him.”

“Oh please, then he’d have to go get his own chips from the surface. You really think he’ll last longer than a few weeks?”

Leo snorted.

“I heard that!” Splinter yelled from the front of the formation. “I know you started talking louder so I would hear that!”

Chula cackled, “And I meant it old man! I give you three trips before you’re beggin’ these boys to go get your snacks for you!”

“I do not like this friend! April was not nearly as salty!”

“Suck it up! You’re all stuck with me!”

Leo snorted, trying very hard to not lose it, “Guys, guys, we have a mission.”

“Ah, all of us together?” Chula laughed. “Superfly and his siblings don’t stand a chance!”

—--------

Chula growled when she finally met Superfly.

Loudly.

He paused in his advance, big, red eyes flicking to her and narrowing, “Yo, why you siding with them tortoises? You should be on my side! I’m trying to make a better world for us mutants!”

“Well, number one, I’m an alien who happens to be half human, so jot that down,” She moved forwards, firmly placing herself between Superfly and the boys. “And two, not really a fan of killin’ kids or civilians. But if you don’t back off now, I’ll gladly rip your shabbin’ head off.”

Leo made a choking sound behind her, “Dude.”

“He threw you off a bridge, excuse me for not feeling very charitable towards him.”

Superfly snorted, wings buzzing loudly, “Maybe you haven’t been around very long, but ain’t no one in this city who can touch me.”

“Weren’t you listenin’?” Chula tapped the activator on her staff. The thin blades on both ends extended and electricity crackled between the points. “I ain’t from this city.” She launched forward, catching Superfly by surprise as she slammed the full force of her weapon into his chest. “I’m from Mandalor bitch!”

Superfly screeched as Chula attacked but recovered in time to avoid the followup. He scurried back before taking to the sky, wings buzzing loudly. Chula snarled and fired a grapple line, hooking one of Superfly’s legs and wrenching down.

She was a bit surprised when he didn’t immediately hit the ground. Her surprise only doubled when he actually started dragging her up.

Okay, this one was not a pushover that was all talk. She could work with that.

She twisted her arm, activating the retract on her grapple and letting it pull her right to her target, “Surprise!” She roared, locking both arms around Superfly’s neck and jerking to the side.

He veered, flying in an uncoordinated spiral as he tried to pry Chula off. He jerked his head back and yelped when his skull met solid beskar. Chula cackled and jerked again, twisting as she did so she could dig her claws into Superfly’s belly.

He hissed in pain but managed to right himself enough to slam Chula into a wall. The impact rattled her skull, but she still clung to the mutant, digging her claws in deeper. Superfly rammed into the wall again, then a third and fourth time before suddenly dropping. Chula didn’t have time to get out of the way before she was slammed into the floor. The impact combined with Superfly landing on top of her sent all the air out of her lungs with a wheeze.

Superfly’s claw slammed over her neck as he leered down at her, “Guess you’re just another punk after all, huh?”

“Superfly, wait!”

Chula’s ears flicked, eyes moving to the side to see the other mutants were standing alongside the turtles…and not fighting? Did she miss something?

The bat fluttered forward, wringing her robotic hands, “Look, boss, we kinda don’t wanna kill all the humans and, well, the turtles said we could just go with them-”

“Are you wussing out on me?” Superfly hissed. “Me? Your own brother!”

“Look man, your plan is crazy and we all went along with it because we thought there wasn’t another choice!” the gecko chimed in. “But, like, these dudes are giving us another choice, man!”

“You're all really buying into them too,” Superfly snarled. “All of you! After what humans did to us?”

“Not all humans,” the bat pointed out. “We can’t just-”

“I am building us a world!” Superfly roared over her. “I am doing this for all of you! I know what’s best for ya!”

“Yeah, you’re a real family man,” Chula snarled as she slipped her vibroknife out of its sheath and drove it up.

Superfly reeled back with a roar, clutching at the deep gouge in his chest from the knife, “You son of a-”

A loud whirring interrupted him.

Chula jolted up, staring at the massive machine that had completely slipped her mind.

Superfly grinned over the group, “Well, too late now, ain’t it?”

“No it’s not!” Leo yelled, leaping forward. “Guys, tear that thing apart!”

“I don’t think so,” Superfly hissed, wings flaring for another attack.

Chula's arm shot out, flames spitting out of her vembrace and distracting Superfly for Donnie, the bat and the gecko to slip around him towards the machine. Superfly turned, made to chase after them but Chula skidded into his path. “Not this time,” she snarled, swinging her staff in a wide arch and ripping the blade through one of Superfly’s wings.

He screeched in pain and tried to hit back but the rhino and warthog mutants were on top of him, trying to wrestle him to the floor. But somehow, Superfly was able to keep himself upright, even when the remaining team piled on, trying to push him down.

Chula joined the fray, but instead of trying to drag him down she opted to dig her claw in again, tearing at the joints where his limbs met his body. Superfly roared, twisting to try and land a hit on anyone. One claw caught the mutant roach and sent her flying, a kick that had Splinter tumbling away.

Chula grunted when a claw caught the side of her helmet, she was going to have such a headache after this.

The group was pushing Superfly, opting to just keep him from getting his footing instead of pinning him. Chula’s eyes flicked to the machine they were slowly headed towards…and the slightly smoking controls.

She broke away from the group, sprinting for the machine controls. She plunged her staff into a corner, twisting and prying until she could hook her claws into the metal sheet and started pulling, exposing sparking wires and circuits. She ripped more out, sending off a fresh wave of pop and crackles, “Leo!”

She looked over her shoulder. She couldn’t see Leo but he must have understood, because Superfly’s trajectory shifted slightly so that he was being shoved directly into the live guts of his own superweapon.

The groans of the machine were drowned out by Superfly’s roar of rage and pain. Chula snarled back, bodily slamming into a gap in the formation.

There was another groan from the machine and suddenly the resistance from it was gone.

Chula lurched back, grabbing the warthog by the belt to keep him from tumbling into the hole that had suddenly appeared.

Superfly wasn’t as lucky, as he fell into the ocean with his superweapon in a tremendous splash of dirty seawater.

Everyone stared as both disappeared under the waves, the only sign they were there a sickly, green glow from the machine.

No one spoke for a few moments.

Until the gecko slowly spoke up, “Uhhh, dudes, if you dump a weapon to mutant animals…into an ocean full of animals…what exactly happens?”

“Pray to the gods that the fightin’ scared all the animals off,” Chula replied.

“I- I’m sure it’s fine?” Leo said.

The loud rumbling from below quickly dashed all their hopes.

“Ashla, Bogen and Bendu,” Chula muttered. Things could never be easy, could they?

#tmnt #lone hunter and turtle #tmnt mm #mutant mayhem #tmnt mutant mayhem #non-canon to LHAT this was solely for funzies

5 notes · View notes

cdfreak · 1 year ago

Note

7 and 8 for any two of ur ocs that have a relationship (romantic/platonic/familiar whatever, just how do 2 characters that spend a lot of time together differ)?

i dont really HAVE 2 characters thatre a pair like that but wouldnt have the same exact answers so i phoned a friend @sockiesock to write about his guy :3 this post is now a certified red and cyan reference

7. Describe the shoes they’re wearing. (This is a big catch all, gets into money, taste, practicality, level of wear, level of repair, literally what kind of shoes they require to live their life.)

RED: you knoww shes got those dyke boots.. theyre brown leather, lace up (with 2 buckles, probably added shortly before she got her hands on them)) very worn and eaten up and patched a million times over as most things in the wasteland are. reinforced with some scrap materials and metal, theyre a solid pair even though theyre kind of falling apart (expensive thing to repair, and even when she has the caps shes a bit reluctant to part with them that long). theyre a couple sizes too bit on her, having pulled them off the corpse of some raider, so shes typically got her feet wrapped in bandages and cloth and wearing like a couple pairs of socks to to make them not fall the fuck off. also she likes hiding knives in there just in case

CYAN: cyan wears an old pair of sneakers from vault 101, he doesn’t have much choice in his footwear but even if he did, he’d go with function over fashion. he keeps them in good enough shape to keep his socks from getting wet and his feet from getting bruised (they’re probably duct taped to hell), but otherwise doesn’t mess with them too much, probably doesn’t even really clean them unless there’s a hygiene risk in some way ngl

8. Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.)

RED: red's bedroom in the megaton house is kind of sparse.. its honestly mostly just storage space for like armor and weapons she doesnt want to get rid or lug around the wastes with her constantly. she doesnt sleep very well there, since she kind of resents the whole house and also is not used to sleeping away from cyan (even if hes just in the next room). her only sentimental personal items are her old baseball and mitt from vault 101, either displayed on a surface or shoved under her bed depending on her headspace. she does also have an alcohol stash under her bed <3 #boy

CYAN: cyan doesn’t have a lot of time to sleep in his own bed nor to decorate it to his tastes, but he does put care into it when he can… he has his childhood teddy bear propped up on his bed and tries to find blankets in good shape as well for it. also he has a piece of his brain in a jar on the table next to his bed (dont worry about it) not even really relevant but i wanted to share that fact.

#asks

4 notes · View notes

ghoststookournightmares · 2 years ago

Text

Vegas, Mirrors, Monsters, Mercy, and Pete

We have seen scenes, twice at least so far ( as much as I can remember) of Vegas looking at himself in the mirror and enjoying the view. Like enjoying the monster he is seeing being reflected on the glass, in a sinister solitude (once in the scarlet hue of his bedroom after attempting to assault Porsche and once with Tawan, where he was essentially just lost admiring and smirking at himself almost even unaware of Tawan's presence).

However, the interesting thing I observed in Ep 13 is that Vegas almost completely falls apart the moment he sees that same monster being reflected in Pete's dark eyes. Like he undergoes a physical, visceral change (acted outstandingly by Bible!) whenever Pete shows him the mirror.

Vegas falls apart, he breaks into a million pieces, he cries, he begs not to be left alone, and he whimpers for forgiveness.

Vegas with the knife realizes how broken Pete actually is and how Vegas has gone too far. It's like Vegas suddenly sees himself in Pete, how broken and hurt he is, exactly like Vegas' own bruised soul; and in Pete's teary eyes he sees the monster he nurtures inside himself in secret, staring back at him in all its ugliness.

In a split second his facial expressions change, and he lets go of the knife when Pete shouts 'let go' and even puts his arms up. In a drastic moment, he hates and abhors that monster, he had so carefully crafted all his life.

Vegas can see himself in Pete's self-apathy and almost unwillingness to even be alive at that moment, and it changes him like a switch, everything Vegas is feeling, everything Vegas has conditioned himself to feel.

Because strangely unknown to him, a quite subdued emotion he has felt never before is taking root in his soul. And this little droplet of emotion doesn't want Pete to become like him, to feel like him, to suffer like him.

And Poof goes the monster!! Vanishes from within his bony ribs.

Replaced by shame at what he has done, what he was about to do, left with nothing but fear of being left alone, begging for mercy and dare I say, Love too?

And Pete is like his mirror. Vegas literally sees himself when Pete breaks (again incredible acting by Build) after the sudden attack by Vegas.

I think so far even Vegas was unaware of how fragile, hurt, and broken of a man Pete is. They are the same but also different, and Vegas witnesses it too.

I love this scene so much, because yes their sex is good, but it isn't really the major point of their 'relationship'. They don't need to have sex every time to communicate (or not communicate) like Kinn and Porsche. Sex is important but not the focal point.

I think, this moment was absolutely essential for Vegas to come to terms with himself, and with Pete, and their future. He had to face his monster in the eyes of the man, he broke, the man he just had made breakfast for, just to rebuild it all back from scratch with nothing but broken mirrors and small mercies.

#vegas x pete #vegaspete #kinnporche the series #vegas theerapanyakul #pete saengtham #vegas kinnporsche #pete kinnporsche #petevegas #lots of thoughts #angst #delicious angst #bible sumettikul #build jakapan #biblebuild

169 notes · View notes

unwantedtomost · 3 years ago

Text

if you don’t like me, then i guess you’ll hate me — tasm!peter parker

tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 4931

summary: your whole life people either liked you, loved you, or hated you. when you met peter parker and he was indifferent towards you, you didn’t know how to react, so you started a plan to get him to hate you.

warnings: alcohol, dirty talk, oral (male & fem receiving), unprotected sex

a/n: i am literally so freaking glad i finally finished this! also this is my longest one shot so far so, very proud. i am currently obsessed with andrew and his peter parker so expect a loooooot more tasm smut coming from me. enjoy!

You were loved by everyone. That isn’t some naive idea you had about the world, for as long as you could remember that was just the truth.

Being on a family sitcom from the time you were three weeks old to the age of fourteen, you were raised in the spotlight. Overwhelming love and praise was something that you had felt by a million strangers all of the time. Along with that, your parents and siblings also did a pretty bang-up job of not being huge pieces of shit. Everyone you had ever met loved you or at the very least, pretended to like you.

So it was a huge fucking smack in the face when you met Peter Parker and he didn’t like you.

“You don’t like me?” You asked, a muddled feeling of confusion falling over you.

Peter turned from whatever he was writing to face you with a more clear feeling of confusion. “What?”

“Gwen told me you didn’t like me.” You were aware of how middle-schooler that sentence had sounded which made you save a load of cringe for later because you also were aware that you were unable to stop it.

Peter sighed, his hand going to rub his temple like you were physically causing a headache to occur.

“Look, you’re a nice girl, but we just don’t click.”

Click? Click!? What the fuck was that even supposed to mean?

You were going to continue badgering the boy because frankly, you didn’t know what there was to not like about you, but you were stopped short by your newfound best friend, Gwen Stacy, taping your shoulder and signifying for you to sit down in your seat. You mindless followed her direction without another word, mouth slightly agape at what had just happened.

As your English 101 professor rambled on about your newest paper that you were only going to be given a week-in-a-half to write, all you could think about was Peter Parker.

You didn’t want to try to make him like you. Despite the disbelief you felt in the fact that he didn’t like you, you didn’t want to stoop down to the level that you had seen others delve in before. The concept of someone just feeling indifferent towards you made you terrified in a way you couldn’t even really mangle into tangible thoughts let alone words. When people didn’t love you or like you, you only saw hate. You never saw indifference. Within that hour you had devised a plan to make Peter Parker no longer feel indifferent towards you.

After class was over, you pulled Gwen close to you as you walked out.

“That guy I met over the weekend,” you started.

“Flash?”

“Yeah.”

“What about him?”

“I want you to hook me up with him.”

Gwen looked at you with a facial expression that screamed a mixture of shock and confusion.

“Why would you want to hook up with Flash?”

“Because he’s hot and I need to get laid,” you partially lied. “Please help a girl out?”

Gwen thought about it for a moment. “Okay, I suppose.”

“And we’re going out this weekend,” you added on.

Gwen playfully rolled her eyes as you continued to venture towards your next class. You smiled to yourself as you were one step ahead in your quest to make Peter Parker hate you.

—

The week had gone by in a blur. A few assignments here and there, an essay you almost forgot to write, and a calculus project that you accidentally had Gwen do for you. Finally, it was Friday night and it was time for your plan to continue to unfold.

You and Gwen got ready at your apartment. You had already had three shots before the boys even showed up. With the small buzz running through you, Gwen started to look more appealing than Flash. You started to wonder if hooking up with her would make Peter more upset than hooking up with Flash. Even though this option did seem appealing, you ultimately decided against it.

When Gwen opened the door to reveal Flash and Peter, you let out a squeal of excitement. You wrapped your arms around Flash’s neck, a devious smile coming to your lips as you felt his arms wrap around your waist in response.

“I’m happy to see you,” you whispered in his ear before planting a pleasant kiss on his cheek.

As you pulled away from him, you made sure to have your arms linger on his biceps as you kept eye contact with him. You did feel bad for playing with Flash’s emotions, but you had to make it look believable for Peter, and if there was one thing you were good at in life, it was acting.

“Hey, Parker,” you said quickly before turning on the ball of your foot and disappearing into your room.

When you emerged, all three of the people in your presence had their jaws on the floor. You looked amazing in your sparkly red dress and matching pumps. A smirk arose yet again on your lips because of Peter’s reaction. As soon as he caught your eyes his jaw locked. You saw something stirring in his brown eyes and that made butterflies explode in your stomach.

“C’mon guys, let’s get this show on the road.”

Peter decided to drive to the club and also opted to be the designated driver of the night. Gwen sat in the passenger’s seat and was the DJ, she always had the best music choices best suited for the mood. That left you and Flash in the back together.

You were never a fan of subtlety and that was very obvious in the way your hands ran up and down Flash’s body as you talked to him. You had caught Peter’s brown eyes in the rearview mirror a few more times than he would like to admit. You felt powerful every time you felt his gaze burn into you and you got just as much of a boost when Flash pulled you closer.

As you four went into the club, your plan started to unfold for you even further. It was simple, really. You would start dancing with Gwen, maybe even Peter for a minute, but after that, all focus was to be on Flash at all times. Your goal to make Peter despise you would be a job well done after the night was over.

–

Everything was going according to plan. Flash was like putty in your hands. For the last two hours, you had yourself pressed against Flash, his hands glued to your hips. You felt his excitement to be so close to you more than once. You had also felt Peter staring daggers at you periodically throughout the night and you had felt like you won. After this, you would get plowed by the attractive young blonde in front of you, and then you would carry on with your life. With this clarity in mind, you decided that you were ready to stop and go home.

“I’ll be right back,” you yelled over the music to Flash. Before you made your way to the bathroom you also informed Gwen of what you were doing,

As you made your way into the hallway where the bathrooms split off, you felt someone grab your hips harshly and push you into a broom closet. You went to yell out but whoever grabbed you put a hand over your mouth. Once you were in the closet, you were let go of and turned around to see Peter standing there.

“The hell, Parker?” You scolded, slapping his arm.

“What? I wanted to talk,” he shrugged.

“And we couldn’t have talked without you throwing me into a closet?” You sassed, crossing your arms. You tried your best to act annoyed and confused. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Are you trying to get back at me or something for that ‘not liking you’ comment?” He asked bluntly.

“No, I couldn’t care less if you liked me or not.” You stepped closer to him, arms under your chest pushing your breasts up knowingly. “Look, Parker, I know it might be weird for me to be around all the time, but you’re just going to have to get used to it. Not only do we have all the same classes, but your friends—our friends—like me.” You looked up at his big brown eyes slowly filling with frustration that that caused a smirk to grow on your lips. You were winning. “Flash in particular likes me a lot. I like him too”

“That’s such a fucking lie.”

“Yeah? And how the hell would you know that? You don’t even like me, let alone know me enough to know what I like.”

“You wanna know how I know that?”

“I do. Please, Peter, enlighten me. Tell me how I’m lying.”

His head dropped down, mouth closer to your ear, breath dancing across your neck.

“I know because someone who actually liked him would be out there dancing with him, not in here practically soaking their panties yelling at me.”

You looked up at him shocked, for multiple reasons. One being that you couldn’t believe that Peter Parker was being so blunt, and the other being that you were surprised that he figured out what you were doing so soon.

Your cold exterior started to crack as he assaulted your defenses. You tried to muster up an unbothered looked, but instead, you ended up looking pissed off. Damnit.

“F-fuck off, Parker,” you muttered with so much defense in your voice you wanted to slap yourself silly.

Finally, it was Peter’s turn to smirk at this.

He slowly reached forward, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. His hand stayed pressed against your cheek, thumb lightly brushing against your cheekbone. You felt uneasy by how gentle he was, you were unsure how to react in this situation. His thumb slowly made its way down to where it was pulling your bottom lip down. He kept you like that for a moment as he started to speak.

“When he’s fucking you tonight, I want you to think about me, princess,” he said softly. “Think about just how much better it would feel to have my cock inside you.”

Before you even had time to process what he said, Peter had disappeared. The only proof you had that he was even there was the salty taste his thumb had left on your lip.

You quickly slipped out of the closet as well. You walked with conviction to the booth Flash and Gwen were occupying. You grabbed Flash by his shirt, pulling him in for a heated and sloppy kiss.

“I wanna get out of here,” you stated bluntly. You then leaned up closer to his ear, whispering to sound more seductive. “I want you to fuck me.”

You had never seen someone move so quickly after you said those words. In a flash (haha, pun very much intended), he had you in a cab and on your way back to the apartment. Gwen and Peter had decided to go get something to eat, and Gwen being your friend (and personally not wanting to hear your sex noises), wanted to give you two some privacy.

As soon as you entered your apartment before the door was even fully shut, you two were shedding your clothes all over the place. You barely made it to your room before he was grasping at your underwear. Flash attempted to go down on you, but you had pulled him back up, insisting that you couldn’t wait for him.

You were ashamed to admit that as soon as your eyes closed, it was Peter you were thinking about. You had to bite down on your lip as to not moan out his name. You hated it but he was right. You knew you wanted him. You already knew that he would be able to make you feel types of pleasure that you hadn’t before. As Flash pounded into you, all you could think about was fucking Peter Parker.

As you came, you pulled Flash closer and closed your eyes tighter, trying your best to hold onto your high and the thought of Peter being the guy inside of you.

When your high was over and Flash had slumped off next to you, you felt sick at what you had just done. You felt even sicker for the realization that came next.

Peter Parker was winning.

—

You had woken up the next morning alone. To be honest you were relieved that you had kicked Flash out (not so subtly) after you guys finished last night. He surprisingly took it like a champ and was still a gentleman as you pushed him out of your door at three in the morning. He kissed you on the cheek and thanked you for a wonderful night before he disappeared down the hallway.

You didn’t drink enough to have a hangover but you still felt off as you got out of bed. You were dressed in an oversized t-shirt you stole from Gwen and your underwear. Saying you had a bad case of bedhead would have been an understatement. As the smell of bacon and eggs wafted into your nose, you realized you were starving. You looked over at the clock and it was close to eleven.

You made your way out of bed and down the hall. As you entered the kitchen you saw Gwen dancing as she made breakfast. She started to sing Pocket Full of Sunshine and moved her hips to the beat. The only thing that snapped her out of her world was you laughing. She turned around, slightly startled before she realized your goofy demeanor.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she teased. “If your hair is any indication I’d say last night was good, yeah?”

You shrugged. “I mean I finished, so that’s something.”

Gwen pouted. “Awe, sweetie. What happened?”

“Nothing, Flash is a good guy and all, I just guess I wished he was someone else.”

“Does this someone by any chance have goofy brown hair and brown eyes?”

You rolled your eyes at the notion even though it was one hundred percent the truth.

“Peter? Please. You wouldn’t see me going out with him even if he was the last man on earth.”

“Mhm, so is that why I saw you guys staring daggers at each other last night?”

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” you lied.

“Okay,” she said with very blatant doubt in her voice. She handed you a full plate which you gratefully accepted. “Tonight we’re going out again tonight. My friend Allison is throwing a party. Peter and Flash are coming too.”

“Lovely.”

The rest of the day went by in a haze. You worked on rewriting some notes for English and a few assignments, but for the majority of the day, you sat around and did nothing.

Tonight you went for a different look. You wore a black two-piece with matching heels. It was an obvious contrast to the white dress Gwen wore.

Since your apartment was just off-campus, you and Gwen decided to walk to the party. You were still trying to figure out if you would be accompanied by someone on your walk home and if so, by who.

The party was going absolutely batshit. The music was so loud you could feel the bass in every step you took. Your nose was filled with weed the sent of weed as soon as you walked into the door. You tightly held onto Gwen’s hand as she fought through the crowd of rowdy twenty-somethings. You brushed against at least fifty of your peers as you made your way to the kitchen. Gwen dropped your hand when you had finally gotten to the kitchen.

You fixed yourself and Gwen a drink with the array of alcohol displayed on the counter. You had only a few goals on your mind for the night, those being: 1.) get drunk, 2.) dance your ass off, and 3.) get laid. You were getting a headstart on the first one.

You were still discombobulated from the debacle with Peter last night. You thought that it was just the indifference that made you feel uncomfortable, but it was the fact that you liked him and he just didn’t like you back. No hate, no love, just nothing. Being confronted about that the previous night shook you in a way you didn’t want to admit, and you were going to. You were going to drink, you were going to dance, and you were going to dance, but you’d be damned if you were going to admit anything

Flash and Peter arrived in the kitchen minutes later. You quickly found yourself hanging on to Flash for comfort. Gwen had begun to talk to the host of the party and her friend, Allison, and there was no way you were talking to Peter. After Flash had finished his first drink and you had finished your third, you were dragging him into the next room overfilled with dancing peers.

“Last night was fun,” Flash yelled over the music with a smile.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your smile more forced. “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now, though. I’m sorry.”

“No biggie, I kind of assumed as much.”

“But we should definitely do it again sometime.”

“Hell yeah.”

This time the smile on your face was one of relief. At least you hadn’t fucked up your friendship with a guy who genuinely liked you as a person in your failed ploys to try and get a different guy to hate you. As you thought about it, you felt embarrassed, but you tried your best to shove it down as you began to dance.

The substance in your system helped take you away from your thoughts. The music and the environment aided as well. Flash’s hands gripped your hips much as he had down the night before as you ground against him. You had sufficiently lost yourself in the music for a solid thirty minutes until fatigue started to hit you. Your movements slowed as you turned to face Flash as you danced. You scanned the room until your eyes landed on two girls who were staring at you and you realized they had been catching glances the whole time you two had been dancing.

“I think you got some fans,” you said directing him to the girls.

Flash turned back to see the girls. Once he looked over they both giggled and instantly looked anywhere but at him. When he turned back to you he had a goofy smirk plastered on his face.

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Don’t act coy, Flash. They’re hot. Go get some, big boy.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“You’re sweet but seriously, go get ‘em stallion.”

You smiled when he turned to approach them. Before he walked away you smacked his ass playfully. You felt glad when the girls started blushing as he walked over to them. With a mission feeling complete, you decided to get away from all the noise.

You once again fought your way through the crowd of people until you found a staircase. You followed it upstairs to a long hallway. You walked down the hall. Most of the doors were shut but you found one that was cracked open. You slowly peered inside to make sure no one was in there before you made your way in. You closed the door behind you and sat down on the bed.

It wasn’t silent by any means but it was the most calm you had felt in an hour. You let out a sigh of relief at the loneliness. You planned to stay in the room until your social battery recharged enough to allow you to go back to the crowd of people. You were thinking about when it would be reasonable to tell Gwen that you were going to head home until you noticed the doorknob turning and your mind went blank.

You froze in fear and anticipation, sucking in a breath. Though you knew nothing terrible would come from whatever situation was about to ensure, even if it was the owner of the room themselves, the fear of the unknown made everything go a little slower. That or the alcohol.

You let out the breath you were holding and shrugged your shoulders forward as you saw Peter walk into the room.

“Should I be concerned that you keep cornering me in confined spaces?” You asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning against the door to close it. You rolled your eyes as you heard the click of the door locking.

“For someone who doesn’t like me, you sure act like you want to spend some quality time with me.” He stalked towards you, gently caressing your cheek with one of his hands. His eyes were unreadable, you couldn’t detect anything specific on his face. The gentle touch plus the uncertainty felt eerie. “Seriously, what do you want, Peter?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, that much you could tell was honest. “I think I’m just trying to get some answers.”

You were going to question him further but as soon as your mouth opened, you felt his lips against yours. It took you a second to react, utterly confused by what was happening. But when your brain granted you enough cognition to move, you kissed him back hungrily. You not only wanted this but something inside of you felt like you needed it. You grabbed onto his jacket to pull him closer to you. You wanted more. You wanted him. Now.

Just as you prepared to lay back and brace yourself for him to topple onto you, he pulled away from you. Your lips tried to chase after his to no avail. You let out a whine as he left you feeling empty. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. You copied him and did the same, some pride washing over you as you saw your lipstick smeared against his lips. After a while of him not doing anything, you decided it was your time to take action.

You dropped to your knees, swiftly undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans. You again felt your pride swell as you realized he was already hard. So some part of him did like you. The pit of pride in your stomach swelled yet again as you caught a glance of an astonished look in Peter’s brown eyes.

You took him from his boxers before pumping his length. You kitten licked the tip, making sure to draw it out to teach him. His hands went to your hair as you finally took him into your mouth. You bopped your head slowly at first, Peter starting to guide you after a while. The beautiful noises that slipped out of his mouth gave you the motivation to continue going. You took it upon yourself to fit his whole length into your mouth, part of yourself wanting to prove that you could to him.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he hit the back of your throat.

You would’ve smirked at that if his cock wasn’t down your throat.

You pulled away for a second to catch your breath. You wanted to make a snarky comment but you feared you would snap the amazement out of his eyes so you kept silent. You took him into your mouth again, bobbing more aggressively this time. You took the full length down your throat again, this time staying where you were. He gripped your hair as he felt your throat constrict around his length, a string of profanities falling from his lips. He basically had to pull you off of him. Peter looked down at you dumbfounded, you smirked as you wiped the salvia from your mouth with the back of your hand.

Peter picked you up from your spot on the floor, practically throwing you onto the bed. You were surprised how effortlessly he had manhandled you but it turned you on.

In an instant, he was on top of you. He kissed you once again. You moaned into his mouth as his hands started to travel down your body. He pulled away from your lips, quickly making work on your neck. He expertly found your sweet spot and stayed there for a moment. You knew that there was going to be a mark there in the morning and you knew that that was the point. You made a note to leave some marks of your own.

Peter started to travel down your body hastily, wanting to kiss every part of you. As he got down to your thighs, he pushed your skirt around your hips. He made quick work of your underwear as he pulled them off of your legs. His kisses teased you as his lips drifted closer and closer to where you wanted him the most. Your hands went to tangle themselves in his messy brown hair, but you knew better than to tug impatiently. He looked up at you asking if it was okay and you nodded aggressively.

His tongue licked a stripe up your slit and immediately you were putty. After he added his finger, it was only a matter of seconds until you came embarrassingly quick with his name falling from your lips. He helped you ride through your high but instead of letting up, he instead decided to double down. He added another finger and increased his speed. You pulled on his hair as he fucked you into another orgasm. Your leg started to shake from the pleasure but he still didn’t stop.

“Peter,” you begged. He only looked into your eyes, continuing his assault. You pulled at his hair in a desperate attempt and he lifted from your sex. “Thank you, Peter.” It was a hopeless plea.

He smiled up at you and for a moment you thought he would let up. Peter kept direct eye contact as he spits onto your heat before his lips attached to your clit yet again. You cried out from the overstimulation as you tried to close your thighs. He pushed your legs apart, making you take everything he had to give to you.

As your third high approached, your back arched off of the bed as you gripped Peter’s hair. You came with a cry, throwing your head back. Once you had climaxed, you fell limp against the bed. Peter detached himself from you, this time it was his turn to smirk as he wiped your juices from his mouth.

You tugged at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. He took a second to admire how beautiful you looked just then. Your hair was a mess, your lipstick smeared, and your skirt scrunched around your waist.

“What do you want?” Peter asked.

“I want you to fuck me.”

His hands grabbed your calves, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed. He pumped himself a few times before looking at you. He lined himself up with your entrance but didn’t slide in quite yet.

“Who do you want?”

“I want you, Peter.”

He easily slid into you, both of you letting out explicit moans. He went slow at first, trying to get you acquainted with his size. As his speed started to increase, the grip he had on your hips did as well. As he thrust into you, it came to your attention that he might just be the best sex you’ve ever had.

Tears started to fall from your eyes as the pleasure overtook you. When you sat next to the brunette the first week of school, you never thought that he would be buried balls deep inside of you at some stranger’s party. You wrapped your legs around his waist, attempting to pull him impossibly closer.

You grabbed his wrists as he somehow increased his speed. You tapped into the part of your brain that was still actually working and made sure that your nails dug into his skin so he would have a psychical reminder of what took place in the morning. You knew there would be bruises where his fingers dug into your hips in the morning, and a part of you was very excited to see those. You were even more ecstatic at the thought of seeing crescent-sized marks into Peter’s wrists for the next few days.

You let go of the grip on his wrist and pulled off one of his hands from your hip. You entangled your fingers and squeezed.

“I’m close, Peter,” you warned.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

He squeezed your hand as an indication that he was almost there and then suddenly your climax crashed into you. You let out a yell of his name and death-gripped his hand as you came for the last time that night. He followed quickly after, his grip on your hand following in suit of what you had done previously. After he came, he fell forward, falling onto the bed next to you.

Your hands were still connected as you lay on the bed, trying to catch your breaths. You turned your head to admire Peter and all his weird beauty, pleasantly surprised to see him already looking at you. You smiled and he did the same.

“You know, I think I might like you after all,” Peter said.

“After the head I just gave you, you fucking better.”

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield smut #the amazing spider man #the amazing spider man smut #tasm #tasm smut #peter parker smut #peter parker #andrew!spiderman #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader

419 notes · View notes