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#a woman on a mission lmao
smiletimeisrunningout · 11 months
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okay but also in honor of me writing on a (super selective just for a few characters) modern verse on sunday, and the Lost verse and everything: beach aesthetic (before and after not caring about her scars being seen but there is probably a flower crown involved to hide her chest scar)
only tagged because bikinis, nothing really not safe
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 4 months
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The conversation in the brief room after Kyle sprinted stepped out must’ve been soo juicy! They were totes gossiping over mr erratic loverboy 🤭💅🏼
Laswell was about to light a cigarette and put her head in her hands, lmao.
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robotsandramblings · 1 year
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((sorry but I purposefully left out Plo Koon bc he's a huge favourite and I figured he'd sweep up the votes; plus I think it already goes without saying we'd all love a Plo & Rex episode lol))
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ariesbilly · 3 months
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sabrina-valerie · 1 year
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>Read a really good fic based on the Mario Movie wherein Kamek's got a bit of an issue with his reflection in a mirror (cw: internalized transphobia)
>Want to go comment on it because it was that good (and i'm working on a comment bingo card)
>Want to include a mention of that flavor text from one of the Mario Party games about how Kamek has a panic attack when he sees himself in a mirror
>Go look up the fact on the wiki so i can quote it in the comment
>Realize the flavor text is actually this:
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>Get really embarrassed and delete half the comment
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i take a lot of damage when i get told im like my dad but it does Not compare to the amount of psychic damage when someone tells me im like my mum
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non-un-topo · 2 years
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Met my parents’ weird born again neighbour (very old white lady, anti-vaxxer, racist, the whole shebang) and the first thing she said to me was “ohhh you’re the one who wants to die if she doesn’t get a 98!” Bro...
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spicysourchimken · 18 days
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Interesting reunions
Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.
After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.
The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.
------
'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'
It was a text from Dick.
Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.
He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)
They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.
So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.
Tim's face.
There was a clone at the event.
'can u get me another pic?'
Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.
Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.
He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.
So. not a clone. Probably.
Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.
Then he caught sight of Tim.
He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.
The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.
Then the lights flickered back to life.
Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.
Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.
--
Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.
And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.
(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)
So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.
Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.
Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.
He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.
That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.
Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.
Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.
At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.
Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.
Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.
Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.
Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.
Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.
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xo-cod · 7 months
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141 + reader
hc's when you five share the barracks together/just in general <3 (ooc, rushed my bad lmao, can be read platonically/romantically, reader is v close to them!!) kinda long oops 😩 might do a part 2 idk
nsfw version 🩷
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there's a whole lot of testosterone and musk in the air when you're sharing living spaces with 4 men ‼️
all four men compete with each other to get your attention, even if it's unknowingly
whole lotta pouting when you're spending time with more man than the other, you're a great companion ;) and the army is lonely. they all need equal love and attention
speaking of, if you're smelling like one of them the other will immediately bundle you in his arms to put his scent on you instead and to cancel out the other (alpha behaviour 😵‍💫)
whole lotta flirting from each of them. they're all very intelligent soldiers, they know exactly what to say to get you going 😙
all of them adore the height difference with you. you get teased about it relentlessly (out of love obvi)
i don't think they're particularly messy men but ghost and gaz are the most cleanest, they like having their things in order and knowing where everything is
price is next because he's slumped with being captain so you'll see a lot of his paperwork around with coffee mugs from pulling all nighters
soap is more organised mess. it might look messy to you but he knows exactly where everything is
you, soap and gaz definitely have rap battles late at night. it starts of quiet but you'll usually hear price shouting at you three from his bedroom to stfu. ghost threatens to pull a grenade if you don't be quiet
assuming you're naturally a good cook, they'd all be so appreciative :") especially on bad days, your cooking reminds each of them of home (or lack of)
face masks! gaz would 100% be down to do them with you, soap would follow next because if gaz is doing it then he too???
ghost would roll his eyes, continuing polishing his guns with a rag "you ain't putting that muck on my face"
price would just look at you, shaking his head "got too much to do, sweetness"
but you're quite the convincer and all four men are on the floor of your bedroom, gossiping about the last mission with their preferred colour of face mask across their faces
assuming you're the only woman, they get very protective when you're hurt. soldiers get hurt from time to time but its different when it's you
"you alright, bonnie?" soap's gentle voice comes through your room as he hands you a warm mug of your fave drink
gaz had you wrapped in a big fluffy blanket, gently stroking your back
"who was it?" ghost's voice is firm, wanting to know who dared injured the youngest member of their team
"already got a handle on 'em" price follows, looking at the computer. whatever enemy dared to raise their hands on wished they'd be six feet under after all four men are done with them
you're the one each man needs when they're having a particularly bad day which are usually far in few between but sometimes it happens
gaz and soap are the types to seek you out, their faces settled in a troubled frown before they place their arms around you. no questions just yet, they just want to feel skin to skin for now. keeping them grounded before they can explain what happened. they're not looking for a fixer, just someone who'll listen
ghost and price are the type to isolate themselves for a while until it's night and then you'll find them gently knocking on your bedroom door and slipping inside, between your covers. their grip is strong, burying their faces deep into your neck whilst trying to wrap his arms as much as he can. these two won't talk much either, just looking to be held and stroked to calm down
ghost and soap are the type to show affection through lingering touches while gaz and price show affections through their words.
but speaking of hugs, each of them have their own special way they like to embrace
ghost thinks he's being slick but you realise just how touchstarved he really is, he gives hugs with his arms around your shoulders bringing you in to his chest. mostly because he's tall and broad but he likes how he can manhandle you from this position and smelling your scent <3
soap's the type to tackle you in a playful hug, maybe a spin to get a laugh out of you before he gently strokes your skin for a few seconds, a gentle kiss to your temple <3
price likes to hug from behind, resting his chin on your head while he looks at what you're doing. depending on you, his big arms are either wrapped on your waist or your shoulders <3
gaz gives side hugs because he likes linking his arm around your hips and he likes how you fit snugly into his body. and this way he can lean his head against yours and can bring you in closer with his other arm <3
all four can immediately smell you before you come in because they adore whatever perfume/spray you have
each of them would absolutely melt into pieces if you joined them/kept them company in what they were doing
and if they catch you in a towel after having a shower, best believe they're quickly walking back around to where they came from to help alleviate the growing... tent in their pants
lowkey kinda pervy 🫣 (never in a harmful way)
each of them have their strong points and would 100% train you in becoming stronger
even if you're a well established soldier, they all worry for your safety
price would teach you sniper techniques, ghost teaches you combat, gaz teaches you how to sharpen your aim and soap teaches you about explosives and how to construct/dismantle each of them
they take the training very seriously with you
a ton of cursing when their fave team loses lmaoo
if you're avid tea drinker, join the gaz/ghost/price club. if you're not, join the hater club with soap <3
ghost/gaz/soap will playfully fight with you, careful not to use their full strength and not to harm you. but it's so cute to them when you're struggling a little under them.
but when price scolds them in doing so, "i'm just helping in case there's an attack!"
if you're arguing against one of them, another will come to your defence. unless you're arguing all four then it's the silent treatment from you 🤭
all four of them melt when you call them by their real name instead of their callsign :")
ghost usually comes to you when his balaclava is broken and he'll keep you company as your fingers work their magic to the fabric, gently leaning against you as you speak to him
price will let you shape up his beard after you begging to do so and he grows to enjoy those tender moments
soap definitely calls for your help to shape up his mohawk, he trusts your hand to eye coordination above anyone elses
ghost will playfully ruffle your hair whenever you both pass each other
price gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder
gaz gives you a soft stroke on your arm or back whenever he's passing by
soap will gently tap his head against yours, not too hard to cause pain but just enough to know that he's there
but above all, the barracks you five share is definitely a safe space for each of them the second they come through the door <333
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star-girl69 · 4 months
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Let Me Love You Like A Woman
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.
a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey
******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT
warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.
And unknown places scare you.
There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.
You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.
You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.
It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.
She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.
“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.
You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.
Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.
That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.
She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.
As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”
Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”
You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.
“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.
“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.
Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.
“We have a mission for the two of you.”
“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”
The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.
Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.
“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.
Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.
“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”
Chiron presses his lips together.
“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.
“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”
Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.
Clarisse looks at you.
“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”
—-
“Y/N.”
You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.
You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.
Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.
But, Chiron needed to like you too.
You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.
It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.
She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.
She smiles.
“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”
“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.
If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.
And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.
Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.
“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”
Her face hardens.
“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”
You rip your hand away from her grip.
“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”
“You’re crazy!”
—-
You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.
She looks up from her book and laughs.
“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.
“Mission,” you groan.
She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”
“With Clarisse.”
She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.
As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.
She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.
“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
You put your lips right up to her ear.
“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”
“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”
“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”
“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”
“It’s fine,” you mumble.
“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”
“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”
She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.
She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.
The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.
You put your hand on her face.
“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”
What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?
You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.
Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.
And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.
She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.
She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.
You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.
She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.
You look into Marley’s eyes now.
“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”
Marley kisses your cheek.
“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”
“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.
Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.
You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.
—-
The bus ride is boring.
Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.
But you’re bored.
You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.
It’s only been two months.
As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.
You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.
You miss her.
“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.
“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”
Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”
“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”
“What?”
Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.
“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”
“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”
She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.
She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.
But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.
“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”
“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.
—-
You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.
Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.
You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.
“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”
You realize your head is on her shoulder.
You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.
“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.
You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.
She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.
She’s right up in your ear.
“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”
The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.
You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.
“I’d kill it.”
You both know you probably couldn’t.
She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”
Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.
She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.
She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.
“Hm, mine.”
You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.
You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?
It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.
You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”
Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.
—-
You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.
“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.”
In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.
You can want her, here, where no one will know.
You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.
The station is oddly busy.
You have this horribly uneasy feeling.
You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.
She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.
You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.
But you trust yourself.
“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.
She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.
She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.
“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”
“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.
Why is she so fucking confusing?
As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?
She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.
You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.
“Clarisse.”
She seems to see it too.
“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.
She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”
When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.
You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.
Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.
The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.
You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.
It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.
That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.
The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.
Something slams against the door.
You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.
“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.
The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.
It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.
“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.
“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.
Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.
You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”
It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.
The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-
Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.
It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.
It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.
You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.
She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-
You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.
No one would know.
Her spear falls to the floor.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.
No one would know.
“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”
“No problem,” she says.
No one would know.
“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.
“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.
It’s so simple.
You both can get what you want from this trip.
“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”
“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.
You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.
You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.
You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.
No one else will ever come close.
“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”
She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.
—-
The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.
Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.
How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?
You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.
She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.
—-
The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.
You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.
When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.
“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.
You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.
“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.
—-
The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.
“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.
“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.
Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.
Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.
You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.
“On your left!”
Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.
“Asshole,” you mutter.
“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.
Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.
She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.
“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.
“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.
“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”
Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.
Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.
“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”
“Yeah, okay.”
—-
Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.
“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.
You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”
She stares at you for a moment.
“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.
Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.
Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.
“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.
It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.
“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”
She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.
“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.
“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.
She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.
“What are you thinking of getting?”
She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”
You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”
She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.
“What was that?”
She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.
You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.
Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.
“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”
You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.
You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.
“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.
“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”
“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”
“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”
The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.
“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”
“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”
You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.
You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.
“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.
—-
“Clarisse.”
She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.
“Clarisse,” you repeat.
She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.
“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”
“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”
“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.
��-
Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.
You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.
You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.
You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.
You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.
It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?
“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.
You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”
She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.
“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.
“Don’t be mean.”
You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.
“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.
“I. Don’t. Care.”
She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.
You whip around and point your finger at her.
“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”
Her smile falls.
“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”
Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.
—-
When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.
You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.
“Y/N.”
You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.
“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”
You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.
Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.
“A toy?”
“What else was I supposed to think?”
She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.
“I’m sorry.”
Your breathe hitches.
“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”
She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.
“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”
It’s silent for a moment.
“I want you to let me love you.”
She lets go of your hand.
“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”
“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.
“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”
You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”
“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”
You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.
But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.
She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.
Your fingers dig into her back.
“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.
—-
“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.
Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.
You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.
Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.
It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.
You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.
Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.
You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.
He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.
“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.
Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”
Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.
Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.
Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.
“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.
—-
marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.
clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟
—-
clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO
—-
honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n
another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish
@sincerely-silk @lacytalks
—-
pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!
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fhrlclln · 1 year
Text
miguel o’hara x assistant!fem! reader pt. 1
SPOILERS ??!!
now we all know this man has some serious anger issues lmao but who wouldn’t love a grumpy man having this deep unspoken sexual tension between the two of you, right!? right. and along with that, SMUT! such a beautiful combo. but mild smut for now.
but here is some mild miguel smut for y’alls horny ass (and mine) <3
here’s part 2 !!
mild smut under the cut
。・:*˚:✧。
spiderman 2099. miguel. miguel motherfucking o’hara.
leader of the spider-society, an elite crew of various spider people from all across the multiverse, their mission to protect the multiverse from any threat that may come. sure, knowing how crazy it sounds that the multiverse is real and that— there are more variations of the spiderman you knew since all before this shitshow happened.
and to say, your relationship with the leader wasn’t all that bright in fact.
you’re not a spider person yourself but sometimes you wish you are seeing how fucking cool spider-woman, jessica drew, a fellow member, along with other members coming in are (hobie, gwen, pavitr and so on.) but no radioactive spider ever bit you sadly. you are human, human as ever working under miguel o’hara as his assistant (more of a manager really) even though he has lyla, the virtual sweetheart, you still had some things you can do which are a big help in all the management for the spider-society.
miguel, as a boss, well— he’s a fucking menace sometimes as you grit your teeth to yourself, walking swiftly into the familiar hallways you always passed through, captured anomalies around your vision until you arrive at the fairly narrow one, meaning you were almost close. all the people knew how fucking grumpy he was, always snapping out of nowhere, sharp comments and unnecessary hurtful ones too when he’s super mad. you’ve dealt with all of that since the foundation was found— and he’s kinda a loner. you sigh, knowing from the looks of what has happened today regarding miles morales, things weren’t looking so great. and you had to ask him somehow about the situation and see how it goes, well not or not.
your feet echoed through the vast space of his lab, his platform was up high as always and you can hear him grumbling a top, watching every scenario of what happened. your heels clicked as you stopped, looking up, blue light restricting your vision as you coughed for his attention. cringing already inside as you heard the audios pause.
then silence.
silence….
more silence….
silenceeeeeeeeeeeeeee-
“what?” he asks from above in a clip manner.
“heard from lyla.” you merely quip back, shrugging your shoulders.
“and?” he grunts, resuming his work as the platform above descends down. ah, sassy. you think, usual miguel— not the mad one, real lifesaver for whatever you’re gonna say right now.
“nothing.” you say, waiting for the damn platform to come down faster. “i may have a few questions where this leads-“
“what questions?” he asks, the platform finally stops at the usual height, making miguel who’s back is turned from you visible.
“about the situation. miles morales.”
“ask lyla about that.” he dismisses you again, tone a little sharper. the back of his muscles flex, super suit clinging tight, his mask the only one that was removed. tousled dark hair seen as he clicks away on his screen, the voices of miles and gwen emitting. you gulp, sighing as you tried for one more.
“it’s more of a personal question for you-“
“has it ever occurred that i don’t answer those kind of questions?” he cuts you off, the footage he was watching paused as he slowly turned around to finally face you. your eyes meet his, familiar red ones looking down at you, face scrunched a bit as if he was annoyed already,
“i know.” you slowly say as he crosses his arms. muscle bulging, making you avert from his gaze for a moment, which embarrassed you. “but all i’m saying or asking is that are you going to make it easy for the kid?”
something in his eyes snap at your question. he jumps down, landing swiftly in front of you as he stands up, towering your frame. you roll your eyes, his shadow blocking the light from you as his hands were situated on his waist, meaning he was ready to argue. but you can’t argue how eager you feel seeing how close he is. heat radiating from him, the way he never leaves his eyes off you and his overall presence.
“what is easy in all this, really, huh?” he harshly spits out. “the faith of the multiverse is in danger. and who’s responsible to fix that? me! so no, i’m gonna make it easy for the kid. he was the one who started all of this if you can remember.”
“oh, i remember and i remember clearly telling you how all of this— this is happening is very much-“
“no, no, no. that is completely out of the logical reason for why this happening. not the reason at all.” he says, his brow scrunching together as you too became fairly annoyed that he was cutting you off. an ass really.
“out of the reason? maybe it is the reason if you think about it!” you retort back, huffing out a sigh as he shakes his head turning away from you.
“miguel.” you call out to him. “miguel, for once, try and see through this. through miles.”
“i have a lot of things to do, y/n. arguing with you is not one.” he commands, as your shoulders sink, the familiar feeling of disappointment washing over you from his words.
“maybe if you could listen to me, we wouldn’t be arguing.” you stared at him with hard eyes, he tensed, looking to the side before he swiftly walks towards you again.
“why would i, huh?” he glares at you. “do you know everything i know enough to make everything right in the multiverse?” he stalks over to you, intent to make you listen clearly as you back away a bit from him but he doesn’t stop. “no. so no, there is no point in listening to you.” he growls the last sentence, the lump in your throat bitter as you two stared down at each other before he utters his last insults. the buzz of something blooms between you both. you could feel it, he could feel it. the two of you were just contemplating in the inside as miguel steps a bit closer to whisper it.
“you’re my assistant, know your place.”
your eyes widened at his words. but you could not shake the fact how deep he said it, the rumble in his voice making your brain go haywire at all the emotions you are feeling right now for him. the breaking point of your patience at its peak as you glared at him harshly, his face close to yours as you cursed at him.
“fuck you, miguel.” you spit out. his face suddenly changed as he fucking smirked. smirked! you stare at him as he opens his mouth to spit something out as well in retaliation for your insult.
“really? that’s all you got? i thought you were better at this, churri.” his smirk widens as you shy away, suddenly flustered at how fast he can make you embarrassed. you could feel his chest close to yours as you avert his hard gaze, making the said man snap something inside of him seeing you all crumpled beneath him.
“you’re all bark but no bite, sweetheart.” he whispers as you didn’t look at him. “look at me.”
the subtle growl in his voice caused you to obey him. you look up to meet his eyes again, seeing them red as ever, red with that low gaze that makes your thighs clench hard. the slow breaths between the two of you are only heard as miguel leans down, face closer to yours now.
“what’s making you shy, huh?” he asks, the argument from earlier clearly out of his head as he focuses on you. his one hand creeping up to gently caress yours, urging you to say it.
“miguel, please, stop playing with me.” you grumbled, ashamed how you liked how he was acting now. “it’s not funny.”
“i’m not joking around, am i?” he sasses but you held your hard gaze on him which he surrenders. “alright, i’m sorry.”
“no you’re not.” you sighed, knowing there will never be a genuine sorry from him which leaves you utterly defeated, more upset how you know he’s toying with your emotions right now. “i’ll take my leave.”
“y/n, don’t…”
“please stop.” you raise your hand for him to stop.
“i’m sorry.” he genuinely says, gripping your hand gently back down, squeezing it softly. his big gloved hand envelops yours as you studied his face to make sure he wasn’t fucking around. miguel practically knew what’s going on between the two of you, which of course why he liked arguing with you. the way your eyes would dilate all the time and beat of your heart racing whenever he gets super close to your personal space. addicting yet a dick move he was doing because in all, he very much likes you. and this time, this time it all snaps at the pinnacle seeing you shamelessly stare at his lips.
“thank you.” you softly say, glancing at his lips, the fangs subtly showing behind them as miguel swiftly dips forward to finally kiss you with such fervor.
your eyes widened as you gripped his broad shoulders, toes tip toeing, heart pounding as his arms wrapped around your waist. you moan out on his lips as you kissed him back the same passion. months of ignoring the unspoken tension between the two of you and at this moment it happened! you think that this all sinks in because of the situation, and you are right in your head. all of this should happen.
“miguel.” you pant breathily between his lips as he shushed you with another one, too lost in the moment.
“miguel please.” you begged for more as his hands dip down to squeeze your ass, lifting you up effortlessly with his spidey strength as your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips.
“i know.” he kisses your chin down to your neck, slowly walking to the desk nearby. your breasts squished together with his hard chest as you grind down, feeling the evident bulge underneath you.
“you’re an ass, ya know?” you mumbled in his ear as he sits you down on the desk, objects scattering at the impact. he continues his ministrations, the things he was supposed to do are far long gone in his head as his hand dip down to where your legs were open for him.
“that i certainly know.” he admits, you giggle suddenly knowing how defensive he is when people point that out.
“but right now, i’m being very nice, amor. very nice.” he whispers, nipping your ear as his gloved hand touches you there, the pencil skirt you were wearing scrunched up above your knees. you gasp, clutching his shoulders again as he chuckles lowly, feeling the wetness as his eyes stared at you with this animosity as he kneels down, kissing your thighs before he sharply opens your thighs wide. your covered cunt staring right before him, begging to be eaten and he sure will be. he looks up to see you, this wild look in your eyes as you nodded for approval which makes him genuinely smile.
“i’m feeling generous today. it’s a once in a lifetime scenario, huh? so you better feel lucky today.”
。・:*˚:✧。
I HOPE I DIDN’T MAKE MIGUEL OOC CUZ I ONLY WATCHED THE MOVIE ONCE. ANYWAYS PART 2? <3
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adaelines · 1 year
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afab but gender neutral reader, horny as fuck smut, ada and leon competing for your attention! theyre both in love with you and wanna prove that you should be theirs.. wrote this in one night bc i wanna fuck both of them so bad lmao
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To others, working with two people with as much renown as Ada and Leon might seem lucky. Missions with Leon always go easy, he's known for his strength and capability. A mission with Leon by your side is always a good mission, no matter the danger, you know he's there to protect you. Ada is the same, the few that know her naming her deadly, a woman who isn't afraid to do anything she needs to get what she wants. You know that all too well, just how stubborn she can be when she truly wants something.
You've known Leon longer, worked with him enough times to even call him a friend, but you can't deny the immediate spark you feel everytime Ada 'intrudes' on your missions, as Leon puts it. He always seems so bitter towards her, and anytime you're involved, it seems to turn almost malicious. Leon would never hurt her unless provoked to, you know that, but the way his eyes turn dark and he stands between you, almost shielding you from her, you can't help but feel like there's something more going on. 
What you don't know, don't see, is the way they both rush to be the one by your side, the one to help you up if an enemy downs you, the one to defend you. They both want you to see them as someone you can trust, someone you can rely on with anything. 
Leon is more gentle, forward. A soft smile that's reserved for only you and firm touches, a hand on your back whilst he guides you, always stood between you and anything he sees as dangerous, even the woman he currently sees himself at war with. Like a guard dog, willing to do anything if it means keeping you safe, he's always the one backing you up in any conflict and watching.
Ada, however, is more discreet. She protects you just as much, watches and never lets you come into danger that's avoidable, never lets anyone else get in the way of your mission. Defeating enemies before they can see you, before you can see them, locking doors if she thinks what's behind it is too dangerous for you. She knows you can take care of yourself, that you're strong, but she likes knowing you're safe, that she helped in keeping you safe.
Between them, you were very rarely in danger. Even when you did end up fighting someone, usually with no other choice, you saw the way Leon's eyes darkened, like a cornered, feral dog. He's dangerous, and he proves it when you're involved. Ada is the same. You don't get to see her fight as much, you're not partners with her like you are Leon, but there was a time you and her ended up together alone, and you saw just how strong she was, how far she was willing to go for you.
The unfounded, in your opinion, rivalry is how you ended up where you were, practically sitting on Leon's lap as you leant back against him, Ada knelt between your legs with her arms wrapped under your thighs, her grip firm. You were meant to be focused on a mission, but a situation that left you a little too close to danger for their liking ended up with them needing to punish you, as they put it. 
Your shirt was bunched above your chest, shoved up by Leon's hands, currently groping your chest harshly, pinching your nipples and holding the fat of your chest tight. His grip was so rough it left you whining, head thrown back against his shoulder, which gave him the perfect angle to kiss along your jaw, your neck. His affection made Ada hum against your cunt, a noise that told you she was less than pleased. Her nose was buried in the wiry hair, mouth altering between your clit and hole. 
Ada's gaze was overwhelming, her eyes full of fire and utter need. From her place between your thighs, she could see everything Leon was doing to you, and it only caused her to work harder. She wanted to be the one to make you feel good, it was going to be her name you moaned, not some dumb puppy's who didn't know how to treat you properly. 
"C'mon, won't you be good for me, sweet thing?" Ada's voice was sultry, and when you opened your eyes to look to at her, you couldn't help the moan you let out. Her touch, her words, the utter love and affection in her eyes… It was almost too much, and if it wasn't for Leon's sharp pinch of your nipples, you could have gotten lost in her. 
"For you? As if," Leon's voice was gruff in return, teeth gently resting on your pulse, "You still think too much of yourself, it's not going to be you they're good for." 
The whine you let out in response was loud, one hand coming up to tangle in Ada's hair, the other placed on Leon's forearm. Your grip on both of them was tight, tight enough that you knew it would hurt, but you were too distracted, too out of it to even notice, not that they complained about your nails digging into them. 
In response, Leon bit down on your neck, harsh enough to hurt, to leave a mark of his teeth that'll last a while, a reminder of who left it there and the position you were currently in. Ada simply chuckled, a low noise that vibrated against you, and flattened her tongue to lick from your hole up to your clit. She may have been on her knees before you, but she was completely in control over you, owned you, as she would put it. 
Between them like this, the overwhelming attention from both of them, it was so much. You wanted to close your eyes, hide away from them, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away. Leon's large hands on your chest, his mouth on your neck and shoulders, all while Ada ate you out like a woman starved, like she was lost in a desert and you were the only respite.
"C'mon, stop looking at her," Leon's voice was low in your ear, quiet enough that Ada wouldn't hear, "You're mine, right? I own you and this cunt. No one could ever make you feel as good as i can. Prove it." 
"C-an't! 's too much…!" 
Your voice was shaky, an octave higher than usual thanks to the attention you were receiving.
"It's okay, sweetheart, moan my name and I'll stuff you full, you just need my cock, huh? Such a sweet thing, I'll ruin you.."
Ada let out a low hum against your clit, bringing one hand from your thigh to gently press against your hole. Her gaze went to Leon, almost glaring and full of malice, before returning to you, returning to the loving, affectionate focus for you. She couldn't hear Leon, but she could tell he was trying to get your attention away from her, away from her touch and tongue against you. 
Just as Leon moved in to kiss you, Ada pushed her fingers inside of you, harsh and quick enough for you to let out a loud whine and jolt. She quickly cooed an apology, voice almost mocking.
"Aw, I'm sorry, love. Was that too much? Just can't help myself, it's not my fault you're just too cute… I just want to make you feel good, make you all mine…"
Leon didn't react well to that, not by the tight pinch he gave your nipple, the low noise he made against your neck was almost a growl. Calling him possessive would be an understatement, covering you in hickies and bruises that marked you as his and his, even with the woman between your thighs. To him, she wasn't there, she wasn't the one making you feel good, he was, and that's all he cared about. 
Even as you got closer to release, as your pleasure climbed and all you could focus on was humping against Ada's face, holding Leon's arm as tight as you could, you could feel the competition between them, feel that they each wanted to prove to you just who could make you feel best.
Leon's lips were right against your ear, whispering how good you were being for him, even looking so slutty you were so gorgeous, won't you be mine? I'll take care of you, make you feel good, you'll never have to raise a finger again. I'll do anything for you, y'know? all you have to do is cum for me, only for me, you'll be so happy together… be a good whore and cum. I'll fuck you hard, fast, rough, anything you want. You'll be so dumb off of my cock you won't even be able to think about anything else, only how deep inside of you I can reach.
His words, mixed with Ada's attention to your clit, her fingers pressing into you harshly, filling you as much as she could, promises of more, of what she can do for you, to you, quickly finished your off, your back arching against Leon's chest, both hands gripping tightly, one still in Ada's hair, the other still on Leon's arm. Both of them let out their own noises as you came. Leon a quiet groan, eyes closing as he gently pressed kisses against your jaw, whilst Ada moaned against you, eyes closed tight as she drank everything you offered, holding you as close to her face as she could, even when you tried to jolt away in overstimulation.
Ada pulled away, the grim on her face proud, still full of desire.
"What a good little thing for me, you taste so delicious too…"
"Excuse me? For you? No, that was all for me…"
They weren't done with you, with their competition for your affection. It was going to be a very long night.
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doctorsiren · 11 days
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Today’s textured canvases once again featuring that Legally Mom AU 😁
Miles and Phoenix were never separated, and so they remained best friends through high school and college. They both went to law school, but Phoenix got a BFA and went to law school wanting to defend artistic and creative rights. He also went because he would be bored all day if Miles was still going to school and he wasn’t
Edgeworth actually becomes a lawyer and he works at his mother’s firm
Mia ends up working there instead of at Grossberg’s because it makes more sense that she would work at the firm connected to DL-6 and also uh she would have a woman as her boss lmao (Eleanor ends up becoming like a mother-figure for Mia, and Miles becomes like a younger brother to her)
Since Mia isn’t working at Grossberg’s, she wasn’t involved in the Fawles trial (which was prosecuted by Franziska). Diego was the defense attorney on that one, and he went on a solo mission to investigate Dahlia. He and Mia met and became friends, but Diego kept the Dahlia investigation close to his chest and a secret, partially to protect Mia (since they were friends now and since she was a new attorney and inexperienced). Diego and Mia finally ask each other out one day, and they plan to have a date later that week, but Diego then has to go to a meeting he has…which was with Dahlia…and he got poisoned…and by the time he wakes up, Mia is dead and they never got to go on that first date. He was asleep and unable to protect her, which is why he didn’t tell her about the Dahlia investigation in the first place. He ends up blaming the Edgeworths (Eleanor and Miles) for her death.
Dahlia (Iris) still dates Phoenix since Phoenix and Miles are dummies and have yet to confess their feelings for each other (although Eleanor can tell). Since Mia wasn’t a part of the Dahlia investigation, and since it was handled by a different firm, it didn’t raise any red flags when Phoenix started dating this chick. Phoenix was also in the courthouse library that day because, again, he wanted to go to law school with Miles (subconsciously pulling an Elle Woods).
When the murder of Doug happens, Miles isn’t a lawyer yet since, even though he could have skipped a grade or two, he never did because he didn’t want the increase in social isolation and also didn’t want to get separated from his friends he already had at his grade level. So he’s the same year as Phoenix (senior in college). I think Eleanor would then be the one defending Phoenix (rather than Mia) since she’s also basically a mother to him (he practically lived at the Edgeworth household since his home life wasn’t great, and then he moved in after his mother passed away his senior year of high school. So he’ll call her Mom and such, but he doesn’t refer to Miles as his brother and neither does Eleanor refer to them as brothers since She Knows What They Are [even if they don’t really know yet lmao])
We also figured out that for Turnabout Goodbyes, Eleanor is the one framed for Hammond’s murder since MVK wants to get rid of her as she is still trying to investigate the truth and he can’t have that. Miles has to defend his own mother BUT THEN when Miles starts saying the stuff about how he probably is the one who killed his own father, Eleanor then defends HIM and it’s just…Ough…mother son bonding over murder and death of father 😭😭😭😭
Just some thoughts 😁
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deathbxnny · 24 days
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Alrighty cool, thank you for clearing that up (and in such a timely manner too)!
So, lemme cook here... with some Angst + Hurt/Comfort >:D
Arlecchino with a Fem!S/O who's the "Mother" to the children of the House. She was among the survivors of the previous Knave's regime over the House of Hearth. With her and Arle having had perhaps a kind of mutual crush that was only truly pursued after Arle killed "mother".
Basically, the scenario for the request is when Arlecchino' and her's S/O are taking care of one of the kids of the House after they're badly injured after a mission, and... needles to say... they don't make it. And during when Arle and S/O are visiting the kid's grave to pay their respect's, S/O begins to muse "you'd think I'd be used to having to bury children, after..." before starting to break down.
Ooooh, I love your brain, Anon!! Thank you so much for this great request!! I have to admit that whilst writing this, I actually liked the idea of making this super angsty and kind of bitter (like most of my fics lmao-) so I hope you like it despite the lack of comfort anyway-
Content: Heavy angst, vague mentions of past child abuse, murder, death, reader is Female and referred to as "Mother/wife", mentions of heavy injuries and blood, controlling behavior from/ooc Arlecchino?, kind of bitter ending, children dying, grief Reader has she/her pronouns ((Not proofread!!!))
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Buried angels and that odd wish to live. (Arlecchino x Fem!Reader)
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In a way, you often wondered why the young ones often wished to live when they knew that their end was nearing. Their eyes would widen, breaths becoming sharper and shorter, mouths closing and opening in panic before they'd whisper those words you had heard so many times. Their deaths always followed closely after, eyes dimming, their soul finally disappearing with the blown out candles, the sweet scent mingling with the smell of blood and burnt flesh. In the light of the moon filtering through an open window, you'd see the grim reaper staring at you in mirrors and your crimson stained palms, a thoughtful look on her face, one asking a simple question she might forever ask you.
"What did you expect?"
And you'd reply by looking away from your own image, away from the guilt and self-doubt and into the eyes of the woman who made all these children utter that odd wish in the first place.
Your hands shook, held up high as you peered into the crime of a mother who couldn't save her child, raised as though pleading for the forgivness of a god that was mightier than the one you worked for. One that was less cruel, despite the heart everyone claimed she had. And yet, they were enveloped by a towel instead, that wiped away the sins and hurt, even if just for a moment. "There is... nothing we could have done to save her, Mother." Lyney whispered quietly to you, perhaps afraid of being too loud and disturbing someone who couldn't even ever bother to hear him anymore. He tried to be reassuring, but it did little when you just couldn't look away from your wife.
Arlecchino. The Knave. A highly ranked harbinger, whose heart always belonged to you from the start, although with great difficulties that took you years to overcome.
The first time she made you stain your hands with blood was when she killed the woman that raised you two, the first and only woman you ever called "Mother." Although the gentleness and nurturing part of her title was just a simple facade, it still shaped you both greately. You had sworn to do better, to become a better mother to all the children you both took in after marriage and Arlecchino... she seemed to have trned against that title. She believed that being a "father" was more fitting. The right way to raise the children of the Hearth family. Cold and detached, yet firm and guiding.
It made you opposites at times. Painfully different opposites. You became a secret haven of safety for the children, a place they can hide away in, whenever their "Father's" wrath came after them. And you've fought so hard to be this gentle. You killed, murdered, slaughtered your way out of fate. You dragged yourself out of hell, you bled, you cried endless tears. You wanted to prove that you could do better and you ultimately did now... or so you thought. You began doubting it years ago, and it's what made you find their wish to live so odd. Was it an instinct, or did they actually view their life's with you two as desirable, something to live for, when all they did in the end was suffer?
"Mother." Lyney said again, this time a little louder, this time enough to make you glance up at him. His face was a blurry shadow, the light falling over his shoulders and illuminating his head like a halo, as he pushed the towel rather hastily into a nearby laundry basket. You'd never get the stains out, and so it would most likely be thrown away, perhaps burried with the young girl. "Let's... get you cleaned up, okay? I... we will take care of the rest." The change in his wording made you press your lips together. It wasn't anyone's job to do this except your own, and for a moment, you imagined yourself curling up next to the child that died crying and begging for you to save it.
You stood up only barely on shaking knees, trembling hand reaching out to close the small girls eyes, and you could feel the cold tears and skin stinging your palm. "It is alright, Lyney. Your father and I will take care of her ourselves..." You looked over your shoulder at the woman who had yet to move or say anything ever since she silently entered the room a while ago. You could see the cold glint of her eyes in the dark, her face otherwise covered by the shadows as she sat calmy and collected in her chair. She knew it was over the moment the girl was brought in by a couple of Fatui agents, th failure of her mission being crystal clear by the deep wounds and burns on her body. She never stood a chance. She wasn't experienced enough, not skilled enough. But the weak get eaten, as the Knave would often say.
Lyney gave you a hesitant look, his mouth opening to protest before he stilled at his Father crossing his legs expectantly. He understood the silent order. "... Ofcourse, Mother. Call my name if there is anything I can do for you." He said, a hand on his chest as he bowed before quickly taking his leave. When the door creaked open, you could have sworn to see the flickers of Lynette and Freminet staring back at you solemnly before they disappeared in the presence of their brother. You stared at the closed door for an unknown while, nearly zoning out, until you let out a shaky sigh. "Make her grave beautiful, perhaps with a blue ribbon attached to it. She loved those." You muttered, the exhaustion finally hitting you full force and making you feel faint. Your body felt heavy, feet dragging across the floor as you also made your exit, the only awknowledgement you received being in the form of the woman leaning her head against her palm idly whilst she closed those cursed eyes of hers.
---
There wasn't much of a funeral for the child.
A couple Fatui agents simply made a hole in the ground like they did with all the others and then lowered the small casket into it, before tossing dirt back in until it disappeared and only the stone with her was left as proof that the child ever even existed. It was a routine at this point, one everyone was used to. Everyone but you. Perhaps the years had made you soft. Perhaps the love and gentleness you gave these children had made you weak. But here you were, standing under the rain and staring at the grave for hours now, unmoving. The water had drenched through your clothes, ran down your face, made you shiver from the cold, despite feeling too numb to fully realise that. Arlecchino stood at your side, an umbrella laying in the wet dirt by her heeled feet from when you pushed it out of her hands and away from you defiantly.
The silence was deafening, filled with the constant tapping of water against your clothes, the metal on the Knave's uniform, and the stone of the sea of graves around you. "How many..." You whispered weakly, trying to form words through incoherent thoughts and the lack of sleep you've had lately. "... do I have to see die before it's enough?" Arlecchino said nothing, and you were nearly convinced that she didn't hear you if it wasn't for her hand twitching.
You let out a disbelieving laugh, a hand covering your face, trying to ease the pain that plagued you deeply. "You'd think that I'd be used to burying children by now... but I... it hurts me." You didn't want to break. In fact, you had never broken before. But as you stood there amongst the many angels that you burried, the many angels that had all once stained your hands red, you began to wonder why you ever even agreed to this. You weren't like your wife. You couldn't be a "Father". You just didn't want to be one.
You buried your face into your hands, imagining the suffocating feeling of their final wish being the same as the pain of strangulation. They reached for the skies and reached for freedom they could only brush shortly with their fingertips before they were covered in dirt to never see what they desperately yearned for again.
"We always took pride in having become something better, different than her... and yet look at us, Peruere! We just became exact copies of her instead! Oh, the shame!" You whispered through strained sobs, voice distorted as you crumbled to the ground in guilt. You had been defeated, and yet Arlecchino still stood so tall, her eyes staring at your shivering and trembling form. She didn't say a word, or perhaps she didn't know what to say. "How many children will you make me stain my hands for?" You asked finally, but the silence told you all.
Peruere loved the children you raised together. But Arlecchino, the Knave, had an objective, a mission. Eat or be eaten, a reality that even hurt her deep down. And yet the curse she had since birth prevented her from feeling it any further than a passing acknowledgement.
"... Stand up, (Y/N). We need to get home... our children await us." She simply responded after your heavy breaths became shallow, and you simply laid there limply at the foot of the grave. But her voice conveyed a certain gentleness she only ever extends to you. It was like the warmth of a summer rain, refreshing and light as it rippled through your heart. With swollen eyes, you watched her reach an ungloved hand out to you, her gaze expectant and yet so unreadable. You felt like a child that powered itself out after a tantrum, the exhaustion and defeat crippling your soul, when you finally just took her hand after what felt like a long moment of consideration.
She hummed a gentle praise against your ear as you slumped against her, face pressed to her shoulder whilst you trembled now from the cold that nipped at your skin through your drenched clothes. Arlecchino wrapped an arm around you, her pensive and yet still so stern gaze drifting through the graveyard filled with those buried angels, as you often called them. Perhaps it was a moment of calm reflection, that made her grab onto your face and wipe away a tear.
"You are nothing like her." And yet, the Knave didn't deny that she might have fallen to her fate herself. Just not you. Never you. "These tears, this hurt you speak of, they are all proof of it. You shed tears for them, for us. Only a good mother could do such a thing." The words she spoke had a deep meaning, one only you two understood, and that made your heart flutter. You looked away, trying your best not to burst into tears again at the tragedy of the situation, but it was so hard when Arlecchino got like this. She only rarely showcased such blatant affection, such blatant declaration of her deep yet rather complicated love for you as her wife. "Please... Let's go home..." You simply whispered, which made her nod in approval.
You gazed up at the skies as you walked away, sunlight beginning to filter through the thick clouds and making you frown bitterly as it warmed your face. Arlecchino's hand meanwhile rested against your back, her watchful eyes gliding across the endless meadows you passed by, and for a moment, she could hear her children laughing, squealing and frolicking through the tall grass. They chased each other in a game of tag, running as fast as they could away from the two of you, over a hill and into what the Knave imagined to be their freedom far from her cold and stern ways. She cracked a bitter smile, one of acceptance as she glanced down at your tired, silently crying and trembling form.
Arlecchino was perhaps wrong after all. Maybe in the end the children did need a loving, nurturing mother instead.
What a shame, that it was too late to go back now.
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Alright, so this took me all day to write, and I'm not sure if it's good, because I'm still very sick... but I still hope you liked this, Anon, and thank you again for the request!!!<33
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romanoffsbish · 10 months
Text
Hear Me Out
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
Natasha develops a bit of a crush on Shield’s interpreter, and it just so happens that her best friend, Clint, has an in with the woman for her….
A/N: I actually minored in Deaf Studies in college, and that little end bit with Natasha is based on an actual mistake I made in my class lmao.
Cheese / Movie | Sorry / Please | Bad / Bitch
W/C: 3,788
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"Why am I here again?" Clint grumbled as he sidled himself up to Natasha as she stood just off stage. "Because, Steve is off on a mission and there's no way I was doing this alone."
Clint rolled his eyes as he saw his best friends smirk grow while watching the stage, she was taunting him for being so easy to manipulate.
"Next time you call, I'm sending you straight to voicemail." Natasha shrugged, "I'll call Laura."
Clint was about to rebut her threat, but then he was caught off guard by seeing you on stage.
"Why's Y/N here?"
Natasha followed his gaze to your face, and her heart momentarily stopped. Y/N... Now she knew your name, and yet it wasn't enough.
——
It had been months since she first noticed you, she was instantly drawn to your beauty, but due to the nature of your connected jobs she felt it would be unprofessional to approach. With every passing event though she felt as her resolve was steadily crumbling, especially since you flashed her a gorgeous smile in passing at the last one. She damn near swooped you then.
"You know her?"
Clint smiled, "She's my Shield appointed interpreter, she bridges the gap between me and others in my situation while also teaching the family and I ASL." His smile dropped into a frown the more he thought about the situation. "Does she do every Avengers press release?"
"Mostly," Natasha replied with understanding in her tone. "Leave it to Fury to double dip."
"Now I feel bad that she spends every Monday to Wednesday with me." Natasha interrupted, "Oh wow, poor girl." Clint shoulder bumped her then went on, "Then she's at the farm every other weekend." Natasha frowned, in part because she didn't know if you could be trusted, but also, because she was jealous.
"Don't worry, I vetted her myself, she's clean."
Natasha's shoulders lost their tenseness, but she still kept a scowl as she realized she had always had an in with you. But since Clint was primarily retired she'd been left out of the loop with just how often she'd been on missions.
"She's single," he teased, Natasha could never hide her feelings from him. "That's cool," but she would be damned if she wouldn't try.
He sighed, ready to give her a little pep talk, but then the crowd roared with applause and he saw you were carefully descending the stage.
"Y/N!" Natasha glared at him, but fortunately you didn't catch it as you happily trotted over. You smiled, but only waved in greeting.
"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Nat."
"Natasha," the redhead cooly corrected.
You titled your head, and furrowed your brows. Natasha watched in amusement when Clint knowingly huffed as he watched you. With your pointer finger you tapped your chest, then rose it to flick at the sky while shaking your head.
You understood him just fine...
Clint rolled his eyes, then did his very best to sign his introduction once more. Your eyes lit up at his improvements, and Natasha watched the older mans eyes also beaming with pride. She was certain she needed to know you now, because the old man was as a certified grump, but you still managed to make him smile.
"I'm Y/N," you finally spoke, and the redhead nearly fell to her knees at your voice. You had extended your hand out in greeting, but she was too enamored by you as a whole. So, you awkwardly cleared your throat while going to pull it away but she latched on just in time.
"Natasha," she finally offered her name, even though you knew it from not only Clint's intro, but also because you worked for her boss.
"I know," you giggled, and allowed her to keep holding onto your hand well beyond the shake. "You're kind of who I was defending on stage."
The redhead blushed and Clint was speechless.
"Right," she chuckled, and felt her entire body warm from embarrassment. Then, you gently squeezed her hand and she realized she had yet to let it go. Which only made her feel hotter.
The redhead dropped it, and if she wasn't so mortified by her horrible game she'd have seen the way you momentarily frowned at the loss.
"It's lovely to finally meet you Natasha, Clinton here has told me so much about you." You ratted the old man out for his gossiping. Nat narrowed her eyes at the man, curious on his intentions to have ever mentioned her to you.
"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," you teased her and she met your eyes to see the honesty. "I'd stick around and get to know you myself, but unfortunately I have to meet with Fury, and sign yet another NDA since agents can't seem to keep their mouths shut around me."
"I'm sure Fury can wait," Natasha blurted, and that shocked all three of you. Clint smirked, Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, and you couldn't stop smiling thinking about how she wanted you to stay. The hand holding, and blush were not enough to convince you that the attraction was mutual, but now, you grew sure.
"He very well could," you theorized playfully, and the redhead looked to you with a smile. "But we all know that it's a bad idea to keep the director waiting. Then he'd be faced with the realization that his busy schedule is a facade."
The best friend duo laughed, both innately aware of the truth in your words. Fury spent his days doing a whole lot of nothing while the rest of them actually did the bulk of it all.
"I'm sure I'll see you around," you spoke again, the hopeful tone not being missed by them. Natasha nodded, about to reply, then her voice stalled in her throat as your finger grazed on over her warm cheek to collect an eyelash.
"Make a wish," you'd commanded playfully, and the redhead didn't question your childish behavior. She simply closed her eyes, wished for you, then blew the curl off your fingertip.
"What did you wish for?" Clint asked, and you watched the woman grow tense. "She can't say Clint, or else it won't come true." Natasha's eyes flitted back to you, and her body calmed. "Exactly, if you knew what's best for you, you would listen to the pretty woman Barton."
You gasped at her words, and nearly lost all of your composure, making Natasha slyly smirk.
"I'll see you this weekend," you'd signed to Clint, then left with a nervous smile and wave.
"Don't even," Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, and Clint laughed wildly. "Oh, Laura is going to be so ecstatic at the news."
Natasha left the man in the dust, literally, she drove off in her Corvette just as he made it and left him without a way back to the compound. Nevertheless, he continued to smile over the interaction as he walked back. He got into his car and left towards home, not even saying goodbye to the dramatic, fuming redhead.
He knew that he would be seeing her soon...
"Y/N!" You caught the little girl with ease as she ran down the familiar steps of her home. Lila began to ramble incessantly about her week, knowing the rules of silence affected her just as soon as the door was closed behind you.
You always took your time with entering just for her sake. The rules were important, it was the only real way any of them would adapt to the changes that came with Clint's steadily declining hearing. Immersive practices were truly the best when learning a new language.
"Ooh, and Nate got in so much trouble yesterday, because he flushed my dolls head down the toilet. Dad was so mad! Oh, and..."
Just as you went to open the creaky door you heard the slamming of a metal one behind you. Before you could even turn to inspect who it could be you got your answer as the little girl shimmied out of your arms and shrieked.
"Auntie Nat!"
Your entire body warmed when you turned to see her catch the girl just the same as you did. It was a bit soon to picture it, but you couldn't stop your mind from wandering off to thoughts of her maybe one day catching your own kids.
Neither of you had even confessed your crush's and here you were seeing wedding bells; always doomed to be the hopeless romantic it seems.
Little did you know Natasha felt the same way when she watched you with Lila from her car. For a brief moment she was jealous that the little girl looked so happy with you, that was her precious Lila-Bear after all, but then her heart skipped in realization that you'd already won all of the people that mattered over.
Except for Yelena, but she'd likely save that encounter for years down the line if she could. The last thing she needed was for the blonde to run you off before she ever got a real chance.
Turns out you already knew Wanda too, her other bestie, you'd been there for her after a bombing led her to a hearing scare. When Nat mentioned you last night the witch squealed, and begged her not to fuck this opportunity up.
Natasha had scoffed, acting nonchalantly about the possibility of a future, but her heart racing was a sign to the witch that she wanted it bad.
Once the redhead was stood before you it was like your mind was catching up to the moment. Natasha's hand fell to your shoulder, and offered you a bright smile. "We meet again."
"It's almost as if you planned this," you teased and she glared defensively. "It was my weekend off, it is only a coincidence that you're here."
"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, completely thrown by the sudden change in demeanor. "Well, I'll make sure I stay out of your way."
Natasha internally slapped herself, she had no reason to be upset, but she was embarrassed by your ability to understand why she was here.
"You're bad at this Auntie Nat," Lila noted, then dropped down to follow you back inside.
"Y/N, wait." Natasha tried, but she was met instead with Nate glaring up at her with his tiny finger to his lips. He was shushing her.
Next to greet her was Laura, who pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Welcome to the dome of silence, you can undo your blunder later—start by not being so defensive."
Natasha rubbed her eyes, and cursed under her breath in her mother tongue, only to be shushed once again by a smirking Clint.
Before she could retaliate (pummel the man) you'd flipped the power off, then on a few times to signal to the Barton's that it was time for congregating in silence. Natasha followed, and took a seat in the far off corner to observe the ways in which you taught the lot of them ASL.
It was amusing from the very start, she could see just why the wary kids loved you so much. The language was something you held respect for in your soul, but you also knew kids needed fun to focus. So, you almost found a way to make it a game of charades when the topics allowed you to. Clint and Laura worked out of a workbook for the most part, it was more like you were a tutor that sidelined as a babysitter.
Natasha watched your face, and how you were emoting so clearly. Every sign came with an expression, something you wouldn't see much of in spoken languages as inflection worked wonders to let others know your moods. In this instance she realized it was you setting a tone.
Today you were teaching them a handful of new words, and using clear feelings to do so.
You'd started with— "I feel," and signed cold, which you dramatized as you wrapped a scarf around your neck before lifting your bent arms in front of you, and shivered. Even Natasha had figured the word out, but that wasn't the answer, because as you saw the kids sign "I understand," you went on to sign "Why?"
Lila giddily raised her hand, body squirming in her seat as she quickly finger-spelled S-N-O-W.
You smiled wide, and signed good before you took your hands and imitated snow fall, your fingers fluttered as you swayed your hands down, then you pointed to your pointer finger, and the kids knew you wanted another word.
Cooper finger-spelled R-A-I-N, and you pursed your lips. Your hand took the shape of a Y, then moved from side to side, then your brow raised as your pointer fingers gently touched before separating fast. A quick way to say they were similar signs, but different in the same breath. Then you signed it and urged them for more.
Natasha already knew the alphabet, and with her spy training she missed nothing so she actually followed along rather easily with you. The widow quite enjoyed learning along with the kids, the words were relatively meaningless to her, but every word was necessary to life.
What really caught her attention was the little boy who'd shushed her earlier using his voice.
Nate was too young to engage in your playful immersive ways like the other two as he hadn't known how to spell yet. So you'd offer him photos after his siblings would spell out their guesses, and he would always get to shout the correct answer to you. To which you'd nod, wink at the older kids, then remind him to keep his lips zipped after as he hung off your back.
Nate snickered when your eyes bulged as you pulled the invisible zipper across your face. His imagination allowed him to believe that your lips were to some extent being zipped shut.
When you moved on to let the kids get ready for bed, you'd focused in on the parental unit.
Natasha gratefully caught your attention just before you settled into a conversation. Your face was rather solemn, and she cringed at the lack of your usual smile—she'd already grown obsessed with the simple gesture of yours.
She offered you a simple smile, and signed I'm sorry, or at least she thought she did, but really she said please and you took it as an apology. You'd merely winked and threw a thumbs up, your version of a rushed "it's okay," before you shifted to face an impatient (eager) Laura.
You were never actually offended by her earlier outburst, you actually found it quite funny.
Laura signed the lesson with you as if she had already known the material before you ever arrived. Part of you thinks she had the book and read ahead to show off, but the other part of you knew just by a glance she was brilliant.
Once you felt satisfied you nodded at her, and she traipsed off upstairs to help the kids finish up their bedtime routines. Then came your time with the struggling Archer, whom of which was the reason for these sorts of visits.
This is when Natasha's attention fell to her phone, you were no longer being silly, and truth be told she felt she needed to do some studying of her own to win your heart over.
Clint held up to your challenges, he signed with a sort of choppy elegance that matched him. Sometimes his signs would be angled wrong, and you would freeze the moment to remind him that sometimes a mistake like that could get him a black eye. For instance, bitch and bad were not too similar, but if you blinked it could be misconstrued, and somehow Clint found a way to confuse them often enough for you to need warn him. Not that he, an actual Avenger, had too much to worry much about.
Any Deaf person would be able to understand his flukes, but you feared he'd still get a stern scolding from the wrong person in a crowd.
Something you knew he'd take with a scowl.
After a half hour with the grumpy man you'd told him he was free to go. He literally jumped up, and lifted you into a grateful embrace as he spoke in a huff, "Fucking finally, I am tired."
"Language!" Laura and Natasha parroted Steve's infamous, inside joke, it spread around Shield so much that even you understood it.
The freshly cleaned up kids all ran into your body in some capacity, Lila smashed her chin into your stomach and pouted up at you. "Don't go?" You ruffled the little girls damp hair and smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back Lila, you guys won't even have a chance to miss me."
"I miss you all the time," Nate corrected you. Cooper jumped in next, pouting just the same, "You're like the coolest adult we know Y/N!"
Natasha scoffed, "I thought that was me!"
Cooper shrugged, and the other kids giggled. "You're our favorite Auntie, deal with it."
"Yeah Natasha, deal with it," you teased her with that pretty grin of yours just before you turned around to give each kid a final hug.
Natasha watched with an adoring smile, her eyes swirling with joy, and a twinge of hope. Clint caught her, and sent a teasing wink her way, but even that didn't stop her from gazing.
"Alright, it was lovely to see you again Y/N, please don't be a stranger," she winked at Natasha while hugging you tightly. "Get home safely please darling, obey the traffic laws."
Clint laughed, "Way to be a mom honey." He gulped as she glared, then patted you on the shoulder quickly before racing off after her to apologize, and help her settle the kids down.
The room was abruptly quiet again, and even with the palpable tension, it wasn't that bad. You moved around the room collecting your materials while Nat quietly observed you, she was building up her courage to approach you before you could leave the house completely.
Natasha politely tapped you on the arm, and you turned your head to peer over your shoulder to see her nervous smile. She swirled her hand about, you got the message and turned to face her fully, you nodded to confirm your full attention was hers so she lifted her hands to attempt to ask you out on a date.
Natasha shakily pointed at you, then back to herself to essentially say "You and me". She had no idea how to really do this, so she kept her Google search for signs at a minimum. The next thing she did was point her fingers out in the distance, something you understood easily.
The tricky part came when she put her hands together, the redhead tried her hardest to ask you to go to the movies with her, but she missed the mark by a simple position of hands. 
"Sure, brie or cheddar?" Natasha blinked in confusion, her hands fell in defeat, and she looked completely disheartened. "What?"
"You just asked me to go to cheese with you."
"Oh my god," she groaned, her reddening face covered by her hands in an instant, but you didn't let her steep in her shame. Much like the first meeting you had her hands in yours, and you squeezed them in hopes of comforting her. Judging by the way her eyes glimmered you knew she was grateful for the gesture.
“Of course I’ll go to the movies with you.”
“You understood but still did that?”
You chuckled, “It was too easy not to.” The redhead dropped your hand then softly nudged your shoulder, “You are really such a tease.”
“Just wait for the date,” you winked, and the woman felt her body warm at the implications.
"Let me know when, and I'll meet you there?" Natasha frowned as she shook her head with absolute urgency. "No, I want to pick you up if that's alright, we can get dinner together first."
"Then pick me up next Friday at seven Nat," you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss to her raised cheek and tried to hide your grin at the blooming warmth felt just beneath your lips. Then you got into your car, and she hung into the window instantly to keep you a little longer.
"I'll need your number krasivaya," her tone was even raspier when she spoke in her mother tongue and she could see by the widening of your eyes that she had an upper-hand here. "It'll be hard to get in touch without it detka."
With a steady as can be hand you slid your phone into hers, allowing her to send herself a text message. As you took your phone back you saw she'd sent herself a selfie, you narrowed your eyes, and she shrugged. "I need a contact photo, and didn't really want to wait."
"So you invaded my privacy instead?" You teased the woman, no bite at all behind your words, so she once again shrugged. "You're very beautiful Y/N, you can't blame me right? It's honestly a shame I hadn't met you earlier."
"You know, you had ample opportunity," you giggled, and softly pushed her out of the car. "But you needed your best friends help."
"Hey...."
"Goodnight Natasha, I expect a gorgeous selfie in return, you know, for your contact." You winked knowingly before revving your engine and taking your leave only seconds later.
"That woman is going to actually kill me." The redhead held her hand over her racing heart as you drove away, it wasn't until your car was the size of an ant that it had begun to settle down.
"Jeez Nat, you're whipped!" Natasha turned to Clint with a tilted head, a move of Wanda's, while wearing her signature sideways smirk. Her narrowed eyes alone spoke of danger, but then her fingers formed the shape of L's, and she linked them and pulled them like a trigger.
Her research expanded beyond your wooing to include the torment of her dearest old friend.
Clint knew better than to ignore her threats, and took off in an instant... Natasha's laughter echoed in the dark fields, and mocked the man.
"I can't wait to have someone to complain about those two with," Laura chuckled to herself as she settled onto the porch swing with a glass of wine at the ready to help her unwind.
"Godspeed to Y/N though, that poor girl hasn’t a single clue what she is in for."
——
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mykneeshurt · 1 year
Text
Pride
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Thank you to @ave661 for the eye candy
Price x AFAB!reader
Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, daddy kink, praise kink, semi-public sex, p in v, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, unprotected sex
Reader is early 30s Price is 38 … though in my mind he’s 100% 45 lmao man radiates dilf energy
This isn’t proof read … I love chaos
It’s started as a joke, a tongue in cheek joke aimed towards you Captain over some celebratory drinks in the local pub. It had been a hard mission, alcohol was a must after what you’d been through as a team. It was the middle of December, fairy lights hung above the bar as a roaring fire lit up the snug corner of the pub.
Drinks were flowing, the atmosphere was cosy and conversation was easy. You were sat in the middle of your Captain and your Lieutenant. Their wide bodies crowded you in the booth as you relaxed into the warmth of their firm muscles. As you were drinking Gaz came running up to the table ‘right, I’m off.’ He had a smirk on his face as he downed the last of his pint, noticing a woman stood by the door you threw him a wink ‘she’s very pretty Gaz. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’
Soon after Johnny slipped away, telling you he was meeting up with an old friend. Even your stoic Lieutenant had been making eyes at a lucky woman at the bar. Turning to your Captain, your head swimming in alcohol you pouted at him. ‘What’s the matter cap? Worried you’re a bit too old for these spring chickens in here?’ You smiled as you said it, rubbing your tongue over your teeth.
‘Careful love’ he growled, just low enough so only you could hear, ‘could teach you a thing or two yanno.’ You scoffed rolling your eyes, you dropped your eyes to his lips as you bit yours softly. ‘An old man like you? What would you know about pleasing a woman?’
And that’s exactly how you ended up in the back of his car, laid out, bottom half bare as he ran his tongue up and down your cunt. You gripped the leather seats as his tongue swirled around your clit, adding just the right amount of pressure to sent jolts of electricity through your body.
Your sweet moans filled the car as Price inhaled them like the very oxygen he needed to survive. Arching your hips into him you craved more. He was holding back. ‘John … please’ you begged as you gripped his arm. ‘What’s the matter? Old man too much for you?’ He questioned, his deep blue eyes fixated on your glowing body. ‘Feels so good John, don’t stop.’
With your permission he grazed your slit with his thick fingers, gathering your arousal. The sound was sinful. You bit your lip as he gently pushed into you, stretching your hole as you gasped for breath. You couldn’t see it, but he had one hell of a smug grin over his face. If it was one thing the Captain took pride in? It was how he could fuck.
He picked up his pace as he slowly added a second finger, stretching you further. He watched as his fingers moved in and out of your glistening hole, conducting a chorus of gasps and moans from your lips. He kept thrusting his fingers, watching your body writhe from pleasure. Your chest heaving and panting, your eyes screwed shut as you clenched your thighs around him.
‘Pretty little thing ain’t you?’ He cooed, before adding his thumb to your swollen bundle of nerves. A sharp gasp left your lips at the sudden intrusion. ‘Shit, oh my god’ you whimpered, burying your face into the leather seat. He leant over you, still keeping his punishing pace, lips hovering just above yours. ‘Not god love, just John.’
Feeling you begin to clench around his fingers he replaced his thumb with his mouth. Nipping, sucking and licking your clit, pushing you further and further to the brink of your orgasm. A string of incoherent words emerged from your throat as you threw your head back. ‘That’s it, give it to me love’ he whispered against your cunt, his beard tickling your sensitive skin.
Pushing your fingers through his hair you gripped it, pulling his face further into your aching pussy. He smiled against your folds savouring your arousal on his tongue. Your orgasm rushed over you in a tidal wave of unbridled pleasure. Completely blinded by your orgasm you hadn’t realised what you’d moaned.
Opening your eyes you saw Price staring down at you, a devilish glint in his eye. ‘Daddy huh?’ Oh god no. You didn’t realise you’d said it. He nuzzled into your neck nipping it softly between his teeth ‘mmm let daddy show you how well he can fuck eh?’ It was a growl, a low rumble from the depths of his chest.
He pulled you up onto his lap as he kissed you, his arms wrapped around you as he cupped your head into his. The kiss was messy and desperate, tongues fighting for control amongst the mass of teeth and lips. Rolling your hips into him you felt his hard cock against your core. ‘Fuck me John, now’ you demanded. Never being one to say no he quickly pulled out his cock and lined himself up.
You sank down onto his cock, both gasping as he filled your hole. He gripped your hips and began guiding you, rolling you back and forth as you covered his cock with your arousal. ‘Keep goin love, just like that … pussys so good’ he praised. He licked his lips as you began bouncing, wrapping your arms around his neck you nipped his bottom lip.
The windows were steamed up, the car filled with the sound of skin on skin, your pussy being filled and fucked. But the good Captain wanted more, wanted to show you how good he really was. In a swift motion he placed you face down on the back seat, instinctively you arched your hips up to meet him. He slipped back into your cunt, both of you gasping once more.
You pushed back into him as he began to thrust, gripping both your hips he slammed into you. A truly punishing pace, his cock felt so good as it ground against your core. He let out deep satisfied moans as he fucked you from behind. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling completely cock drunk. ‘Oh fuck daddy!’ You wailed as you scrambled to grip onto the leather seat, his pace was unrelenting. ‘That’s right’ he growled, ‘let daddy take this of this pussy.’
Spanking your ass he watched as the muscle juggled with each thrust. His eyes glued to the shape of your body beneath him, he snaked his hand into your hair. Pulling you backward causing your to arch your back further, your tits bounced each time he slammed into your pussy. ‘Oh fuck, right there, right there daddy’ you spat through gritted teeth.
‘Good girl, takin’ this cock so well.’ The praise drove you wild, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Your skin felt like it was on fire, he rubbed your back, each fibre of your being lit up as he caressed you. ‘More daddy please, please please please’ you muttered, it was almost like a mantra. He spanked you again ‘little whore cock drunk already? Daddy’s doin a good job huh?’ He groaned under his breath.
You felt yourself tighten against his cock, ‘fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum’ you said, your voice strained from pure pleasure and desire. He dropped his hand from your waist to your clit, toying with it between his fingers. Daring you to come on his cock, pushing you further and further. He couldn’t not make you come again, his pride wouldn’t let him. He needed to hear your pretty little moans again, feel your cunt constrict around his cock.
Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you pushed your forehead into the seat beneath you. No sound came from your mouth as your orgasm ripped through you. John wasn’t too far behind, he pulled out and flipped you over, shoving his cock down your throat. You gagged around him as he came down your throat. Looking up at him through hooded lids, tears stung the corners of your eyes as you swallowed.
Whispered grunts and whimpers fell from his lips as his cock pulsated in your mouth. Your sweet saliva coating the entire length of his sensitive shaft. He offered you a warm smile as he pulled out, tracing your jaw with his thumb. ‘Now. What do you say to daddy?’
With a content sigh you licked your lips as you grazed his muscular thigh with your nails. ‘Mmm thank you.’
————
Taglist - @luminousbeings-crudematter @griffmors
I low key hate this lmfao daddy kink makes me shudder but it fit - thank you to @johnnytavish who suggested the daddy kink lmao
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