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#captain jag
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Comet: It's spooky season!
Jag: Every season is spooky season when you're haunted by your life decisions.
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barriss-and-coffee · 9 months
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I know TCW gave a few of them one off episodes, but I've always found it disappointing how little attention the RotS commanders have gotten in both canon and legends, at least Cody got a spotlight episode in Bad Batch!
Did Commander Thire understand that Vader and Anakin were the same person since he found Vader on Mustafar? What about Appo when the chips made him and his brothers storm the Jedi Temple, and attempt to kill a Senator before gunning down a youngling? What was Jag's relationship to Plo, and Wolffe? What did Bly think in the aftermath of Order 66, where he and his brothers literally shot their general in the back? What are Baraca and Neyo's stories?
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zoe-oneesama · 2 years
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At least she can’t possibly play ignorant of this one as they’re SHOUTING ACROSS PARIS!
Episode 38 Part 5
First < Previous > Next
Season 1, Season 2, Season 3, Season 4, Season 5
Ep 31,  Ep 32, Ep 33, Ep 34, Intermission 2, Ep 35, Ep 36, Ep 37, Ep 39, Ep 40
Ko-fi | Patreon
The Croco-duo has a slight design difference from canon:
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Just to try and tie them together a bit more~
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whatevvvs · 5 months
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My nichest Star Wars gripe is Wedge Antilles’ father’s name. This assholes name is Jagged Antilles. Yeah you hear that right Jagged Antilles. I read his name while I was scrolling down wedges wiki. I’ve never seen this man, I’ve never bothered looking him up. but I just know intuitively that I hate him. Not only is his name the dumbest thing I’ve ever read, his name doesn’t even make sense in the context of wedge’s name. Wedge’s name is a reference to the simple machine, because he’s a soldier and he’s an effective cog to a bigger machine. HOW THE FUCK DOES JAGGED FIT INTO THAT. WHATS WORSE IS THAT I CAME UP WITH A BETTER NAME LITERALLY WITHIN SECOND S OF READING THAT NAME. AXLE. AXLE ANTILLES.
SEE IT WASNT THAT FUCKING HARD TO COME UP WITH A GOOD FUCKING NAME. THIS FANDOM MAKES SUCH A FUSS ABOUT THE STUPID JOKE NAMES LIKE GREEDO OR BLEEBO OR WHATEVER THE FUCK, WHILE THE REAL CRIMES LIKE JAGGED GET OFF SCOTT FREE
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tortoisesshells · 11 months
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Fair Winds and Following Seas
I think this has to be a fic about Our Heroes (1899 edition) leaving the simulation and the Kerberos behind after the end of - well, of the plot. It wasn't a pleasant experience for any of them, but it's hard to say goodbye to any kind of home, because the line between who you are and what's your home can be terribly thin, can't it? even if who you are (in the context of 1899 as a simulation) was some kind of an external imposition? The Kerberos was real to them, for a time & for good and ill, but it's finally gone, and that's not a painless realization.
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can... can I know more about captain jag 👉👈
Definitely! You all are free to ask me about my OCs at any time! YES-- even my Clone OCs.
Captain Jag is a Clone Captain in the 165th Battalion, which is stationed on Vindell under the command of Jedi Commander Re'os Sann, a Jedi Knight who was knighted early in the war.
He was assigned to Re'os and their late Master's battalion early in the war when Re'os was actually still a Padawan. He considered himself something of a mentor to Sann, especially after the death of their Master, and eventually something like an older brother (despite Sann actually being older).
Jag tends to be level headed and rational. He's very much a "cool under fire" kind of person. He likes to think things through first; weigh all the options. A General like Anakin would have given him an aneurism.
He has lost a lot of brothers. And while he doesn't let it show, he's angry about that. He doesn't blame the Vindellians or his Commander. He thinks they do the best they can. The Vindellian people have shown him and his brothers lots of compassion while the planet itself seems merciless. He knows the locals have lost a lot too, with their casualties even higher. But he still harbors resentment for the war and a disillusionment with its "progress." He blames Republic leadership and, after all he's heard from Re'os, the Council too. He blames the senators, and especially the Chancellor. And overall, he blames the Seps.
Jag will fall to the effects of the chip in the first chapter of Reconciliation, but with much confusion and a lot of hurt. The chip would re-arrange the way his anger and resentment manifests so that he unconsciously takes it out on those he trusted and respected the most.
He's not the one who targets Sann, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he was glad for that. That's the same part of his mind that was screaming that something was very wrong when he turned his sights on an interesting target: Ina Velos.
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voicesagainstliars · 2 years
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Hey Skull, is Xuppu advocating for some April Fools shenanigans?
Ryuji: He knows better than ta do something without letting me know. I got the Guardian on speed-dial, just in case.
Ryuji: Luckily fer me, he only wants to do kindly pranks.
His phone rings with an incoming call from Juleka.
Juleka: Why is Marinette freaking out about nacho cheese covering Jagged Stone's room?
Ryuji: ... Xuppu!
Xuppu: Wasn't me, boss!
Ryuji: Uh-huh. How do you prove that?
Xuppu: How would I get to Paris to do that and back in time?
Juleka: ... well, he's not wrong there. But who could do such a thing...?
In Nino's room, Kaalki smirks to herself before licking up a teeny bit of queso off of her face.
Kaalki: Oh, darling, you've truly outdone yourself.
A shadow looms over her. She looks up to see a stern-looking Nino.
Nino: So what’s this I heard about a whole pig farm going into space?
Kaalki, gulping: Er... April Fools?
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I don’t know how to feel about this ending.
Am I supposed to feel this conflicted ?
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raurquiz · 1 year
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#otd #startrek    #thenextgeneration #themeasureofaman #picard #riker #troi #data #laforge #worf #drpulaski #wesleycrusher #obrian #guinan #jag #captain #phillipaduvois #admiralnakamura #commander #brucemaddox #startrek56 @startrekonpplus https://www.instagram.com/p/Com5KMuu8Sy/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Random Captain John Price headcanons
sfw and nsfw
pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (cod mw)
tags/tw: domestic stuff, afab!reader, masturbation, spanking, hickeys, Price is an ass-man
a/n: inspired by a conversation I had with @melancholyy-hill and just some random thoughts, might do a second part to this, tell me if you want any other characters
John Price MASTERLIST
sfw
-Price has two phones, one for work and a private one, he doesn't like using the same one when he's deployed in countries where there's definitely a chance of it getting hijacked
-he's so tidy, like having a surroundings to calm his mind, make it easier to concentrate for him
-he's also pretty strict with his own cleanliness
-don't get me wrong, Price doesn't mind getting dirty on the field and in bed, would be weird if he did lol, but once at home or base, he takes care of himself
-we talking beard oil, grooming, trimming his nails if they got jagged during deployment and picking out the dirt from beneath them
-not that he dislikes showing you off in public, on the opposite he loves having you by his side, showing others you're his, but he gets uneasy with PDA
-that's why he's such an old-fashioned gentleman with showing you affection around people, those small gestures that make women swoon and telling you that you're found 'a good one, god you're so lucky'
-hand on the small of your back in a crowd is a must, palm resting on your knee when sitting down, you walk on the side furthest from the road, standing/walking behind you on the escalator or stars if you're wearing a skirt, kisses to your hand, temple, forehead or crown
-he always does the bed in the mornings despite you being the one who wakes up last
nsfw below the cut
-he's such a fucking ass man, like he appreciates boobs, thinks your nipples look good poking through a shirt or deliciously teasing in lingerie, but he prefers your ass
-like this man's hand is drawn to the plush flesh of your rear like magnets, just like his eyes
-back turned? eyes down, staring at ass.
-don't get him started at how he folds when watching it jiggle in doggy style or reversed cowgirl
-lowkey struggles not to blatantly stare or grab at you when you're in public and the pants/leggings you're trying on make it look too fucking good for his health
-sometimes you can just be relaxing, laying on your stomach and he comes up from behind, kneading your ass, swatting it to watch it jiggle
-other times, he pulls you on top of him, resting a book against your ass as he reads, one of his hands always groping you, you simply prop a pillow on his legs to get comfortable as you'd gotten used to this request of his
- you've stopped counting the times he'd put down his book and started parting your asscheeks as he massages your rear, in the end Price can't help how his thumb rubs the folds of your covered pussy
-if he gets to know you don't mind spanking, it's over, the man swats your ass constantly around the house,
-he thinks your gasps are adorable as you shoot him a look he ignores bc he knows you like it
-does not whine, not a particularly big moaner either, but the grunts and groans is enough to make up for it
-high-sex drive when he's around you, but during deployment he keeps it under wraps, which leads me to...
-not that big of a masturabator, but once in a while he needs to rid himself of the crawling desire in his spine, simply having to jerk one out to be able to concentrate, probs because he thought about you for too long
-BUT he actually really loves mutual masturbation, started when he walked in on you once when returning unexpectedly early from a mission
-'don't mind me, love, continue' he would husk at your wide eyes following him as walked from the bedroom doorframe to the little seating area you had in front of the bed, sometimes used when you did your makeup or Price would read, sitting down and to your surprise pulling down his pant, jerking his already half-hard cock to full length, waiting expectantly
-he puts on a show as well, using two hands, one to stroke himself in matching speed to how you finger yourself, the other cupping and fondling his balls
-would definitely not shy from throwing his head backwards when reaching his sensitive cocked with palms too rough in comparison to your soft ones
- Price is so fucking sly about where he leaves hickeys
-as previously mentioned, he doesn't really like the public attention it pulls, but a primal part of him swells when seeing the marks he's left during your intimate moments, so he definitely likes to give you little lovebites
-so you can bet your ass you could leave the house in a crop-top and they wouldn't be visible, strategically placed where no one but him and you could see them, meaning the line of your panties, on or around your breast, inner thighs, etc
-the beach might be a problem however, you would never forget the time Soap had cackled like a fucking madman when he'd spotted the marks' inconspicuous placement, leaving absolutely no room to guess what Price had done between your legs
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shotmrmiller · 1 month
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since i'm rambling about self inserts? (is that it?) now you're miserably turning over on the bed, pulling the comforter over your head because you wasted a whole whopping 70$ for MW3 only to get an unfinished game and a piss-poor half-assed shock value main character death.
You fall asleep thinking about what you'd do differently- how johnny wouldn't die so needlessly, maybe even convince Captain Price to let Johnny put a bullet in Makarov's head in that helo.
And when you wake, your surroundings are different. The bed is too small when yours is a king, the innerspring mattress creaks when you sit up, even though you explicitly bought a memory foam.
The walls are spartan instead of the personalized decor you had. Looking over the edge of the bed, the floor isn't carpet. It's an ugly, white vinyl tile.
Where the fuck are you?
Your hands are callused but the only time you even got one was when you tried your hand at gardening, only to eventually realize you could kill a cactus with your brown thumb.
Hopping out of bed, you beeline to your bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. Almost everything is the same. Eyes, hair, body, height.
Only difference is your flesh. It's littered with scars- both old and new. A thick, pink jagged line across your clavicle (a blade?), a puckered star shaped keloid above your hip bone (A gunshot wound?)
Stepping back out into the room, you carefully survey the space around you. A tac vest you swear you've seen before hangs on the back rest of your small chair.
Two black glock-19's sit on the desk. How do you know that? You don't know lick about weapons.
There's a large sheathed blade by your nightstand table. Didn't Rambo have one of those?
Suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks. You're dreaming. Jesus. Maybe you should start reading some smut fanfiction before bed to get Simon in your-
A knock at your door pulls you out of your degenerate thoughts.
oooookay.
Padding quietly to the door, the metal of the handle feels shockingly cold. How wildly vivid.
"Ye- what the fuck?"
What the actual fuck?
"Language."
...
Your mouth gapes in utter disbelief. "Simon?"
His dark eyes narrow behind his skull mask. "Chummy, are we?" He steps forward, forcing your neck back at an uncomfortable angle to keep your eyes fixed on his. "You and I, Sergeant, ain't friends. It's Ghost to you. Clear?" he snarls.
You swallow thickly. "C-Crystal, sir."
He tips his chin forward. "Get decent, I'm to take ya to the debriefin' room."
what?
"Now."
Spinning on the balls of your feet, you hastily dress, and grab the vest on the chair. UK flag on it. Tactical. Heavy as hell.
Your hands move on their own, and fingers smartly clip buckles, pull up zippers and close the pockets- as if you've been doing this your whole life.
What is happening?
When you get to wherever it was you were going, you're met with more recognizable faces.
Captain Price stands in front of Laswell, bulky arms crossed as he speaks to her in a hushed tone.
Gaz sits on a chair with his head hanging back as he blankly stares at the ceiling, trademark cap in place.
And then there's- "Bonnie!"
Johnny.
"Good to see Simon dinnae eat ye on the way here."
Simon Ghost doesn't react to the jibe at all.
Why are you sitting in the middle of the 141 listening to Laswell debrief about Hassan? Why aren't you waking up yet? You're lucid. The sharp sting of your nails digging into the palms of your clenched hands isn't dulled.
"Good hunting."
This can't be happening.
This isn't real. The heavy helmet strapped to your head. The weight of the bulky tac vest full of equipment. The painfully tight straps around your thighs. The way the rifle feels in your hands, solid and dense.
Not real.
Until you're offloading with Bravo Team in Al-Mazrah on the search for Major Hassan. The tall grass grazing your pants, the NVG's over your eyes to help you see in the dark. The harsh recoil of a weapon you've only ever used in a video game. The gurgling sounds of the enemies as they choke on their blood by your feet. The bullet whizzing past you, clipping your cheekbone. The burning sting of it, white-hot pain.
Real.
It feels fucking real.
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Conversation
Wolffe: I truly hate it here.
Boost: Now replace “it” with women. Not so funny now is it
Warthog: Now replace “it” with women. Not so funny now is women
Sinker: Now replace “funny” with it. Not so it now women?
Jag: I’m having a fucking stroke.
Comet: Replace “stroke” with baby. Congratulations!
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libraryofgage · 7 months
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Pirate/Mermaid Steddie One
There is way more mermaid culture world-building than I intended, but that's the fun part lmao
This part discusses injuries, has a mention of mutilation in passing, and involves stitching up a large wound. Nothing is graphic, but there are some descriptions of pain
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!
As always, if you see any typos no you didn't
----
There were a few things Eddie expected from this raid. Gold, of course. Supplies like food, obviously. Some new weapons, surely.
A fucking mermaid? Nowhere near that list of expected things.
And yet, here he stands in the doorway of the raided ship captain's cabin, caught in a staring contest with a merman that's definitely seen better days.
He's stuck in a tiny wooden tub, his tail forced against his chest as the rest of it flops over the edge and trails the floor. His blue-and-green with inexplicable hints of orange scales are dull, too dull, and Eddie is trying really hard to control the sheer rage he feels at the jagged cut that drags down the middle of the tail and through the fin at the bottom. The edges of the wound have crusted over, but it still looks painful, and Eddie knows it was meant to keep the merman from using his tail to escape.
Eddie takes a step into the cabin, ready to just scoop the merman up and take him back to his ship. But he stops when the merman tenses, his entire body somehow becoming more rigid. His hands on the edge of the tub tighten, his sharp nails digging into the slowly rotting wood. He's staring at Eddie like he's some new threat, which seriously is not gonna help with the whole "take the gorgeous merman with incredible hair and alluring brown eyes back to his ship and nurse him back to health" thing.
Eddie freezes and holds his hands up. "Sorry," he says, keeping his voice low and soothing. The merman doesn't relax much, but his nails are no longer digging into the wood. Eddie figures that's a tiny win.
"I'm Captain Eddie of the Corroded Coffin. We didn't expect to find you here, sweetheart."
The nickname just slips out, an unthinking attempt to butter the merman up and an admission of his own thoughts. The merman's eyes narrow, slowly looking Eddie over as though sizing him up.
Eddie lets him, perfectly content with standing still if it means the merman will give him even one iota more of his trust. "That doesn't look very comfortable," he says, nodding to the tub. "Would you like some help?"
The merman relaxes a little more, and Eddie has no clue what he did to cause that. Before he can think too much about it, the merman points to a dresser on the other side of the room, looking at Eddie expectantly.
"You want something from there?"
The merman nods, which tells Eddie he at least understands human language. That doesn't give him any idea if the merman can speak it, though.
He walks over to the dresser and looks at the merman, pointing to each drawer in turn until the merman nods. The fourth drawer is, apparently, the correct one. When Eddie opens it, he finds a small treasure trove. It must be a collection of trophies from the ship captain's previous raids.
A quick glance reveals a gold crown with rubies, several diamond rings, a few silver bracelets with various gemstones along the bands, and a pearl and seashell necklace thrown on top. Eddie knows the merman probably wants that necklace most, but he can't help thinking of a rumor that mermaids like shiny things.
The drawer is full of shiny things.
He hesitates for less than a second before pulling out the entire drawer itself and turning around. "I'm not sure what you want from here," he lies, smiling apologetically at the merman. "Can I come close enough to show you?"
The merman stares at him before slowly nodding once, suspicion practically radiating off of him. Eddie flashes a more genuine smile and slowly approaches, giving the merman enough time to reject his presence. When he's a few steps away, Eddie crouches and tilts the drawer so the merman can see what's inside.
Immediately, the merman reaches out and snatches the pearl and seashell necklace. The gills on the side of his neck flutter slightly as he puts it on, and Eddie wonders if that's a sign of relief. "Was that everything you wanted?" he asks.
The merman glances at him, one hand still lingering on the necklace. He glances down at the drawer again, seeming to argue with himself before reaching out and removing the crown and every bracelet. He carefully slips the bracelets on and clutches the crown in his hands.
"Anything else?" Eddie asks, his tone indulgent. It must be reassuring, though, because the merman looks at him with curiosity more than anything else. It's like he's trying to figure out what he can get away with.
A few seconds pass before the merman glances down at the drawer. His gaze lingers at the edges, and Eddie starts to wonder what could possibly be there when the merman points at one of his rings.
Eddie blinks, following the merman's finger to a chunky ring. It's shaped like a bat with emeralds for eyes and diamonds for teeth. It's one of Eddie's favorites; he found it on his first raid, took it right off the captain's hand himself. Nobody has ever dared ask to touch it, let alone have it.
Without a second thought, Eddie puts the drawer down, slips the ring off his finger, and offers it to the merman. It sits in the palm of his hand, meaning they'd have to touch if the merman really wants it that badly.
Slowly, the merman reaches for the ring, his nails tickling against Eddie's palm as he takes it. From the light brush against Eddie's fingers, the merman's skin is cool, exactly like jumping into the ocean on a hot day.
----
Steve is a firm believer in the power of small comforts, especially as it relates to the growth of his guppies. Dustin has long outgrown his baby tail belt, but he still wraps it around his wrist every morning. El and Will no longer need the seaweed and coral dolls Steve made for them when they were barely able to swim a straight line, but they still tuck them in every night.
So, when the human (Eddie, Steve reminds himself) offers up a drawer filled with shiny jewelry, Steve doesn't hold himself back. The bracelets make him feel grounded, the crown gives him something to clutch without the risk of breaking it, and the ring...
Well, the ring was more to see if Eddie's actions would match his tone. And because Steve thought it was fascinatingly grotesque. What kind of creature would have wings without feathers? Sure, the gulls he sometimes sees near the surface are confusing, but the ring depicts something even further beyond his imagination. What's up with the sharp teeth? Why must the eyes be green? Does it know it's a freak of nature?
Anyway, the jewelry helps. Steve uses it to distract himself from the sheer agony screaming from his tail when Eddie lifts him out of the cramped tub. He thinks about which bracelet he'll give to which guppy (Robin will get the crown) when the edges of his tailfin graze against Eddie's legs as he confidently walks across a plank connecting the two ships. He closely studies the featherless wings on the ring to avoid thinking about what's to come when Eddie sets him down on a large, surprisingly comfortable bed in another private cabin and starts gathering a needle and thread.
There's not much left to distract him when Eddie kneels next to the bed and looks up at him, his eyes reminding Steve of his guppies when they've done something bad and need him to clean up the mess.
"This is gonna hurt," Eddie tells him, his voice soft and gentle and full of regret as he grabs a bottle from the table next to the bed.
The liquid inside is clear, and Steve would think it was water if his nose hadn't been hit with such an astringent scent when Eddie opened it. Before he can fully process the smell, Eddie tips the bottle and pours the liquid onto Steve's tail.
An involuntary screech rips out of his throat, a burning sensation clawing along the cut and making his scales buzz. Without thinking, Steve grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks it away, his lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals sharp teeth. Despite the physical pain, Steve thinks the worst part is that he let himself get distracted by small comforts and warm brown eyes and Eddie's soft voice.
He should know better.
"Shit," Eddie mutters, quickly dropping the now-empty bottle to the floor. It cracks but doesn't break, and he looks up at Steve. "I should've explained that better. Holy fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I had to clean it. If I sewed it up without doing so, it might get infected."
Steve narrows his eyes, his grip tightening briefly as he studies Eddie's face. He seems genuinely apologetic, and Steve understands his intentions once he's processed Eddie's words. Steve had to do something similar when Mike and Lucas bothered a shark too much. Their wounds weren't nearly as bad as Steve's, but they'd still cried and shouted when Steve and Robin had to pull teeth and bits of coral out of their wounds before wrapping them in seaweed.
"I'm done with that part, though," Eddie says, his voice practically desperate for Steve to understand. "You can squeeze my shoulder or something while I sew it up."
A few seconds pass before Steve nods once, slowly letting go of Eddie's wrist. As Eddie starts threading the needle, Steve places his hand on his shoulder, bracing himself for the upcoming pain by squeezing the crown in his other hand.
Eddie takes a deep breath as he glances up at Steve. He licks his lips, looking back at the top of the cut. "Okay, I'm starting now," he says, waiting long enough to see Steve nod before starting the first stitch.
The alcohol hurt. The stitching is a fucking bitch. But, honestly, none of it is as bad as when that first disgusting human dragged a dagger through Steve's tail. He still hisses, gripping Eddie's shoulder tighter and unable to stop his nails from digging into his skin. Despite how it must hurt, Eddie doesn't flinch, and Steve feels a little better.
"You know," Eddie says, mostly focused on keeping his hand steady and his stitches even, "I wish I knew your name. I can't keep calling you sweetheart."
He could. Steve wouldn't mind it. But he also knows it isn't entirely fair that Eddie doesn't know he can speak. They'll need to be able to talk, Steve thinks, if they're going to be around each other for a while longer.
And Eddie has been kind enough that Steve wouldn't mind being around him for however long it takes his tail to heal.
"Steve," he says.
To his credit, Eddie doesn't drop the needle. He does tense for a moment, his hand pausing as he looks up. "What?" he asks.
"My name. It's Steve."
"You can talk."
"Why wouldn't I?"
Eddie hums, looking back at the cut as he starts stitching again. "You didn't say anything before," Eddie says.
"The last human who saw me mutilated my tail," Steve replies.
"Fair. Is, uh, is your name really Steve?"
"That's the closest translation to your language."
"What's your name in your language?"
Steve hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat. He feels his gills flutter, trying to create the bubble pattern that accompanies his name as he lets out a rhythmic series of squeaks and clicks with a short hiss at the end.
A few seconds pass after he's done. And then Eddie nods once and says, "Steve it is. How'd you get caught, Stevie?"
Ignoring the slight urge to point out that Eddie said his name wrong, Steve frowns slightly. "One of my guppies got caught in that ship's net. I got them out but was caught myself."
"One of your...guppies?"
"Yes. You would call them...children, I think?"
Eddie has nearly reached the middle of Steve's tail by now, and his hand falters once more. "Children? Aren't you...a little young?"
Steve bristles, glaring at Eddie. He's heard that same question plenty of times from members of other pods before, and he's tired of it. "What does it matter if they are happy and healthy?" he asks.
"Sorry," Eddie whispers, glancing up at Steve. There's something he can't quite read in Eddie's eyes. "Do you raise them alone?"
"What? No, of course not. My partner, Robin, raises them with me. We have seven guppies, with an eighth on the way."
"An eighth?!" Eddie asks, sounding strained as he pauses his stitching once more to look up at Steve. "Shit, man, shouldn't you give Robin a break?"
Steve blinks, tilting his head slightly. "Why would she need a break?" he asks.
"She's already popped out seven!"
Suddenly, Steve realizes what the disconnect is. He blinks once more and dissolves into laughter. "Oh!" he says, the exclamation broken by a giggle as he tries to calm himself down. "No, no, she is my partner, not my mate. Besides, she doesn't even like mermen."
Eddie seems to relax at Steve's explanation, his shoulders dropping and his voice significantly lighter as he starts stitching again and says, "Oh, I see. Then whose kids are they?"
"Technically, they belong to the pod," Steve explains, gritting his teeth as Eddie reaches the tailfin. He feels warm all over, his nerves jumping and his scales feeling half-ready to just fall off. "Each pod has at least two caretakers. Mates have a guppy and let caretakers raise them while they focus on their own roles within the pod."
"Do you like being a caretaker?"
"Yeah," Steve says, managing a shaky smile despite the tugging on his tailfin and Eddie's fingers pressing against his scales. "They're my guppies. I'd drain the oceans for them."
"And, uh, what about your mate? Do they mind you being so...devoted to the guppies?"
It's not at all subtle, but Steve finds it oddly endearing nonetheless. He slowly exhales, forcing himself to loosen his grip on Eddie's shoulder. "I don't have one."
Just like before, Eddie seems to relax some at the answer. He also finishes stitching, tying off the thread with a secure knot before carefully cutting away the excess. "Well, uh, we'll get you healed up and back to your guppies as soon as possible," he says, looking up at Steve.
"It needs to be wrapped in kelp. And, uh, I'll need a tub. You know, with seawater."
Eddie nods along, flashing a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, Stevie, I'll get you anything you want," he promises.
"Anything?" Steve asks, leaning forward some as he tilts his head.
"I already gave you my favorite ring, sweetheart."
Steve glances down at said ring, wondering what about it could possibly make it Eddie's favorite. He can't immediately figure it out, but that doesn't change the sweet warmth and anticipation for the time he'll spend with Eddie that he suddenly feels.
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codiemarin · 1 month
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You´re It - Ingrid Engen x Reader
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Pt. 1
Summary: Part 2 of Tag. As they say, third time's the charm. Here's your happy ending as promised!
T/W: Fluff.
A/N: Thank you to this anon for such a fun request to start my writing for Ingrid. Everyone, I´ve seen all your other requests and will slowly work through them as well. Also uff, this photo of her. 
“Congratulations and welcome to the team!” You shake hands with the captain and she pulls you in for a quick hug, giving you two friendly pats on the shoulder. It's ten years later and a lot of hard work, but you managed to make enough of a name for yourself in the football scene to be scouted by one of the best teams in Europe.
The captain pushes the door and gestures to you to enter. Upon doing so, the chattering in the room dies down as everyone turns to look at you, eager to see their new teammate. You do a quick scan of the room, getting confused when the one person you wanted to see wasn't present. Maybe you made a mistake coming here, you thought as you started to feel yourself getting nervous. The both of you made your way to the front of the room to be more visible to all the women. 
“Everyone, please give a warm welcome to our new striker, Y/N from Sweden!” The captain announces and everyone gives you their own greetings, chattering once more and trying to get to know you by asking questions all at once. They also do a round robin introduction, telling you their name, position, fun fact and well wishes for your new journey with them. As the captain begins to explain that there was one person still missing, the door opens and she steps inside, chest heaving as if she's just ran a marathon.
“Sorry Alexia, I was -” She starts and promptly stops as your eyes meet. 
You found yourself getting lost in light green and you took the time to observe the girl you haven't seen in years. Time seemed to stand still as you gazed at each other, the years melting away in an instant. It was like no time had passed at all, as if you were still the same two girls exploring the forests of Melhus, your laughter echoing through the trees.
She looked the exact same as how you remember with some small differences: she was much taller now, black hair long enough to reach her chest and all traces of baby fat gone from her face, highlighting her cheekbones. It seemed that she had the same thing in mind, drinking you in as you watched her eyes flit from your head down to your feet. You had more notable changes, for one, you hit a growth spurt and realised you were a head taller than your best friend. You also spent most of your time at the gym, so you´ve gotten very muscular, something you were very proud of and appreciative about, since it got you all of the attention you enjoyed. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and realised that the team was watching the both of you, you stride all the way to the back of the room until you were face to face. 
"Hei, frosk, det er en stund siden sist, er det ikke? (Hello frog, it's been a while hasn't it?) You exclaim softly, grinning at your friend who still can´t keep her eyes off of you. 
A smile spreads across Ingrid's face as she closes the distance, wrapping you up in a hug. “Älskling, jag trodde aldrig att jag skulle få se dig igen. (Darling, I never thought I'd see you again.)” 
Now in Ingrid´s embrace, you felt the comfort that you've craved since the moment you left Norway. The warmth of her body against yours and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat only increased the deep sense of longing that you´ve held for the woman all these years. As you and Ingrid were stuck in your newfound bubble, the rest of the team watched on with piqued curiosity, their whispers rippling through the air as they started guessing your possible history, the Norwegian never mentioned you to anyone. Alexia, thankfully, realised that the two of you needed some privacy for the little moment you were having and decided to help out. 
“Chicas, less sitting and more running. Let´s show Y/N how we train here in Barça!” She says with a wink towards you, and everyone files out to make their way to the field.
As the morning sun cast its soft glow over the training grounds, you felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach. This was your moment to prove to everyone that you deserved to be here. As you laced up your boots, you took the time to survey your teammates, thinking about who you'd want to approach first. It wasn't long before you found yourself drawn to the loudest group in the team: Mapi, Patri, and Mariona. 
As you started the training drills with them, everything was polite and professional, the four of you still trying to get a read on each other. You were mostly focused on completing the training sets as accurately as possible, and you took this time to show your skills to your teammates, receiving impressed looks of approval in return. Slowly but surely, you built some camaraderie with your three new friends and started roughhousing, much to the amusement of the whole team.
“Ay, Y/N. You joined the wrong group of girls, I see a lot of laps in your future.” Alexia shouts from her side of the field as Mapi rolls her eyes and gives a rebuttal to the captain. You were having a great time, pleased at how you assimilated easily into the ranks of Barça, especially on your first day. You and Mapi were caught up in a wrestling match over possession of the ball as Mariona and Patri stood to watch you both. Minutes later, you were all called by Jonatan to do the final part of the training, which was a five a side.
You found yourself on the opposing team as your best friend, and the mini match was off to a good start, everyone going strong and playing as if it was an actual competition. During the game, you found yourself clashing a little bit with the Norwegian, from this closer proximity, you realised that her cheeks were flushed and she was making uncharacteristic misses and fumbles.
As the game continued, Ingrid's distraction became increasingly apparent. Her passes went too long, her shots missed their mark, and her focus seemed to waver with every passing second. Still not being cleared for training, Alexia and Fridolina were on the side, standing and observing the training to point out any holes in the defence or if anything needs to be improved. Alexia was noting Ingrid´s increasing struggle by the second and was wondering if she was just hungover or sleep deprived, when Fridolina beat her to it. 
"She doesn't seem to be doing well, maybe she's had a rough night." Frido commented to Alexia.
"Funny how it only happens when she's close to our new striker though. Maybe she has a crush." The captain chuckled in amusement. 
"Huh, you might be right." Fridolina continued as they watched Ingrid trip on her own feet in front of you once more. 
“You okay, Ingrid? I´ve been watching you play on TV and you're usually better than this.” You called out to your best friend.
“Just a little hot today, is all..” Ingrid's cheeks grew even redder, her embarrassment evident for the team to see. 
“Frosk, it´s ten degrees.” You commented and everyone laughed as Ingrid´s cheeks got even redder. Despite her flustered state, she couldn't tear her gaze away from you, as you continued running in circles around everyone, shooting goals left and right.
As the training reached its close, your team emerged victorious for this round. Echoes of “amazing job!” and “good one chicas!” were heard as everyone made their way back to the locker rooms to get changed. Ingrid couldn't help but feel a small amount of frustration for her lack of focus and causing her own team to lose. You caught each other´s eyes on the field, so you gave her a bright grin and she returned it with a sheepish smile. Ingrid knew she was in trouble and decided there and then, that she would do her best to keep out of it.
As you left the building to go to the carpark, you caught sight of your best friend walking to her own car and jogged up to her. 
“Frosk! Leaving me already?” You caught up to her with a small pout.
“Sorry, Y/N. I'm a bit busy this evening, and I´ve got to rush off somewhere.” She said absentmindedly, not even looking at you, and you felt your heart drop at what seems to be a dismissal. 
“Ah, no worries then. I guess I´ll see you in training.” You sighed as you walked away. 
“Wait! Give me your number, maybe we can go for a coffee before training one of these days.” She amends and you feel a small smile grace your lips.
It will be a month later when you finally get to have your coffee together, your time in Barcelona was fruitful and the team, more than you can ask for. You steadily built relationships with everyone and felt like you belonged and fit in well with them. Ingrid on the other hand was something else, besides the first hug that you two shared, there hadn't been any further contact between you both. No matter how hard you tried, it seemed that Ingrid wasn´t really interested in getting to know you again, and you feel your heart breaking just a little bit more everyday, confused as to why she was acting this way with you.
It wasn´t just you who noticed, but the team as well could see the tension between you both, surprised as it was a stark contrast to the familiarity in which you greeted each other on your first day. They could see that this was taking a toll on you while Ingrid seemed to remain impassive. When Alexia couldn't take the sad looks you carried everyday anymore, she went to your house to give you a pep talk and encouragement to reach out to your estranged best friend once more, if just for closure.
Ingrid was sitting across from you in a small café, two untouched coffees and unspoken tension hanging in the air between you both. The past ten years had left scars on your friendship, and it felt like you were sitting in front of a complete stranger.
"I can't believe you never reached out," you said, voice tinged with bitterness. "After everything we shared, after all the memories we made together, you just disappeared without a trace."
You could see the Norwegian bristle at your words, her own anger bubbling to the surface. "You were the one who left! You think I wanted this?" she shot back, frustrated. "You think I wanted to lose touch with my best friend? Life got in the way, Y/N. Things happened, and before I knew it, you were gone."
Your heart clenched at Ingrid's words, guilt twisting in your chest. "I didn't mean to leave you behind," you explained, "But you never tried to reach out to me either. It's like we both just gave up on each other."
Ingrid's eyes softened, a flicker of sadness crossing her features. "I guess we did," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I never stopped thinking about you, Älskling. Not once in all these years."
You felt a lump form your throat, the weight of Ingrid's words hitting you like a ton of bricks. "I never stopped thinking about you either," you confessed. "I just... I didn't know how to find my way back to you. I couldn´t at first, because of circumstances with my dad. But believe me, I have always tried..” 
“Did you move here for me?” She questioned with soft eyes, and all of a sudden the fear of abandonment washed over you once more. 
“I– uhm,” you stuttered, “No, I´ve gotten multiple offers from around Europe and the USA as well, but I think the best choice for me was Barça, you being here is just a nice addition to it.” Another missed chance from your cowardice, you cringed internally.
“Oh well, we can consider it a happy accident then.” She conceded, though you could see something flicker in her eyes. “I´m really sorry it took us this long to have a proper conversation, Älskling.. I just had so much anger I'm holding on to.” 
“It's fine Kjære, I´m glad we finally had this conversation, no matter how long it took.” You smiled reassuringly. 
“Maybe now, we can try to get to know each other again slowly? The Norwegian offered and you nodded, pleased. 
Thus, you started tentatively rebuilding your friendship. You both knew that you couldn't bring the past back, but you were motivated to start anew and get to know each other now. Your first adventure took you to the  mountain ranges of Montserrat, the forests being something familiar to both of you. With each step you took by each other's side, you felt the weight of your past lift from your shoulders, replaced by a new understanding for each other. As you added hiking in your routine, you shared stories of your childhoods, the dreams you had once harboured and the paths you had chosen to follow. Your laughter echoed through the valleys as you reveled in the joy of simply being together once more.
It was your idea that prompted another event to be added to your routine. Your mutual love for animals led you to find an NGO for the both of you to volunteer at. The one you chose was a local one that was dedicated to rescuing and caring for abandoned dogs every Sunday. When you needed respite from the city life, you retreated to your favourite coffee shop, a cosy hole in the wall type, that was tucked away from the chaos of the world outside. There, you would sit for hours, lost in conversation and your own thoughts occasionally, as you sipped cups of coffee and let your imaginations run wild like old times. Of course, Ingrid brought her sketchbooks and pens, though you preferred your own markers and decided to use her skin as your own canvas. You could feel your heart swelling every time you heard her laugh because she was ticklish.
Months later, in the midst of you and Ingrid going on one of your Saturday hikes, you start to feel a familiar feeling bubbling in your chest. A feeling that you were sure you´ve forgotten in lieu of building your budding friendship with the Norwegian. In calmer moments, as you sat side by side in the park or wandered through the narrow streets of Barcelona, you noticed signs that maybe, the Norwegian might feel the same way. Longing glances were exchanged, lingering touches brushed, and unspoken words left hanging in the air. 
Yet, despite the growing intensity of your feelings, neither of you dared to broach the subject, afraid of disrupting the still young friendship that you´ve both worked so hard to rebuild. And so, you continued to tiptoe around each other, unspoken desires simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to be released.
Alexia always had the knack for realising when things weren't in order in her team, it was her superpower as the captain. Well that, and the incessant whispers she´s been hearing from everyone about how there´s some “unresolved tension between the new striker and Engen”. After one too many comments, she decided that she's had enough and that this needed to be fixed immediately. While she´s known Ingrid for longer, the Norwegian wasn´t the most talkative so she decided to go straight to you with her plan of action.
“We're going to have a teambuilding session next Friday.” She stops you as you are about to enter your car post training. 
“Yes, you said that during today's team meeting.” You responded, confused. 
“You need to do something about whatever is happening with you and Engen, and you´re going to do it then. I cannot take anymore of this.” She says sternly, arms crossed over her chest.
“I have no idea what you´re talking about, Capi.” You tried to play dumb but were quickly interrupted.
“Nope, no. The whole team has noticed it, and now it's affecting our connection. Fix it. Immediately.” She pushes her fingertip on your chest for emphasis before walking to her own car and driving away.
Friday comes quicker than you thought, and while still worried about how you were going to confess your feelings to the midfielder, you were quite curious about what Alexia´s plan consisted of. You didn't have to wait long, as right after training she ushered everyone straight into the team van.
What was Alexia´s chosen venue exactly? A laser tag arena nestled in the heart of Barcelona, which to her was the perfect setting for some fun competition that still involved running around. The excitement was palpable when you entered the building, everyone being eager to get into the game as soon as possible. Once more, you and Ingrid found yourselves on opposite teams, as your hearts pounded in anticipation of waiting for the alarm to signal the beginning of the game.
The game began, and the arena turned chaotic quickly as everyone darted between obstacles, dodging laser beams and strategizing their next move to outsmart the opposing team. Laughter and high pitched screaming filled the air. Amidst the chaos, you and Ingrid found yourselves locked in a fierce competition, determined to emerge victorious. You exchange playful taunts and sly grins as you chase each other. Finally, after a series of close calls and narrow escapes, it came down to just the two of you left in the arena. 
With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you circled each other warily, determined to bring victory to your own teams.
"Ready to go down, Frosk?" You remarked, a playful smirk on your lips.
Ingrid grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don´t talk too soon, Älskling." She replied with determination as she ran off to take cover. The both of you darted between obstacles with such agility to outmanoeuvre the other.
For some time, it seemed as though you were evenly matched, but as the game wore on, you managed to gain the upper hand, cornering Ingrid in a secluded section with nowhere left to run. Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you stood face to face, the tension crackling like electricity. Ingrid's heart raced in her chest, and as her eyes locked with yours, you could see the unmistakable look of longing and desire that you both shared the past months. This time though, you finally decided to be brave.
"Nå er du min. (You're mine now.)" You whispered, voice husky with anticipation as you took a step closer, gaze never leaving Ingrid's.
You could see the Norwegian ́s breath catch in her throat the moment she felt the heat of your body pressing against hers. You looked into light green, searching for any form of resistance and when you found none, you moved forward until your lips met in a searing kiss, a collision of longing that left you breathless and dizzy with desire. You hear Ingrid let out a soft moan as she wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the world fading into oblivion as you surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotion that threatened to consume you both. You were both interrupted by the alarm signalling that the game had ended, jumping apart as the lights turned on. Ingrid looked down to see that your vest was still green while hers was red, and her gaze returned to yours with some slight confusion. 
“Tag, you´re it.” You laugh as you flash her an impish grin. 
Ingrid slowly realised what you´ve done and she gives you a playful roll of her eyes before you hear that tinkling laugh you´ve grown to love.
“You're it for me too.” She whispers with a soft smile before pulling you back in for another kiss. 
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its-your-mind · 3 months
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thinkin bout how orv starts with kim dokja actively working to ensure that kim namwoon dies during the first scenario
thinkin bout how kim namwoon was a teenager at the start of the scenarios, dealing with the apocalypse using the mental paths that came easiest, jumping into the new world with both feet
thinkin bout kim dokja as a teenager. tired. hurt. alone. his internal and external struggles ignored by the adults around him. choosing to throw himself off a rooftop because there wasn’t anything in his life worth living for
thinkin bout how kim dokja woke up again, even though he had planned not to
thinkin bout a teenage boy. lost, alone, broken, scared, angry, in need of someone to come and show him how to keep moving forward
thinkin bout a protagonist in a webnovel who is an example to you of how to survive against all odds. a mantra to repeat when living life as yourself is too hard
thinkin bout a hardened and powerful hero who knows exactly how this world works, who holds out a hand offers you a place with him
thinkin bout teenage kim namwoon, looking to yoo joonghyuk as captain, teacher, and protector
thinkin bout teenage kim dokja, looking to yoo joonghyuk as role-model, hero, and refuge
thinkin bout teenage kim dokja, who saw himself more as kim namwoon than any of yoo joonghyuk’s other companions
thinkin bout adult kim dokja, reclusive and unsocial, hiding his phone from his coworker so she doesn’t see what he’s reading. convinced that yoo joonghyuk would look down on him if he learns who he “really” is. ashamed of any details kimcom learns about his past
thinkin bout what happens to a life when the person living it has never seen in it any redeeming qualities or objects of value. how someone feels about life when they tried and failed to give up that life a decade ago, and every day since has felt almost accidental
thinkin bout the lesser fire dragon. the disaster of floods. the strongest in seoul dome. the devourer of dreams. the 73rd demon king. the industrial complex. the war between good and evil. the wager with secretive plotter.
thinkin bout the most ancient dream. an empty station. a cold and hard bench. bandages and a notebook and a too-loose uniform. smaller than he should be for his age and more broken than any child should ever become. alone.
thinkin bout an unbreakable faith, shattered. a family frantically throwing themselves at their heart to save him from himself. desperate hands prying a blade out of shaking ones, moments before the jagged edge pierced deep into vulnerable flesh
thinkin bout how the younger kim dokja, recently released from the hospital, does not watch. instead, he instinctively curls up to protect the parts of himself already hurting the most. he begins to repeat his mantra
thinkin bout how kim namwoon kicked and fought and screamed and stabbed. and then, when he realized there wasn’t anything he could do, he got down on his knees and begged kim dokja for his life
thinkin bout how kim dokja just stood over him, held him in place, and looked at him in silence as the clock ran out
thinkin bout kim dokja at the beginning of his story and at the end of his story. in a subway. looking down at a teenage boy.
making a choice. the same choice, both times.
the first time: an explosion, a blood splatter on his reflection, and a confused and wary protagonist who has lost one asset and gained another
the last time: arms holding him back, a family hugging him tight, and another protagonist who steps in front of him. holds the child close. forgives him everything. offers up anything more he could need. and kim dokja watches as the person with the strongest claim to vengeance upon this younger facsimile of himself instead gently gathers up the most ancient dream, tucks him close against his chest, and walks away with him safe and sound in his arms.
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callofdudes · 11 months
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What are you reading?? Part 2
A/N: So... It blew up, I didn't expect that to happen. And most of you wanted a part 2, so I made a part 2. You can find part one here.
CW: Sexual stuff. I don't know what I'm doing
Summary: After the boys find you reading a smut book, they take it upon themselves to tease you. This is the result of the boys teasing you.
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After your meeting with Price your interaction with Johnny had sort of been forgotten. You still keep your book close as you walk back to your room for the evening, intent on getting some rest after the long day.
When you step into your room, you are surprised to see Johnny sitting on your bed.
"Hey, this is my room, Johnny."
Johnny hums. "I know." He motions you over and you hesitantly sit next to him. "Still got that book hey?" He snatches it from you.
"Johnny! Give my book back!"
You fight to grab it, pushing him against the bed and reaching for it. He chuckles, having you so close.
"You cheeky little-"
Johnny slips out from under you with the book. "Sorry sweetheart." He grins, his hand coming down and slapping you on the ass, making you gasp in surprise. "You've had your turn with this."
You turn around just as the door closes but you aren't sure what the hell to do. You just stare, blush forming across your face and your heart melts.
Johnny is actually just teasing you, I literally had no endgame for his... I tried to write one though
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It was late when you finish your paperwork. You're tired and sore from sitting down all day despite how comfortable your office chairs are.
Finally, you signed the last piece of paper and stood, stretching out your sore muscles.
Now... Time to go try and get your book back from Price. Wouldn't that be a lecture? You hadn't forgotten what he'd said earlier, it made your heart pound in your chest.
You got to his office and knocked on the door. "Captain? Can I come in?"
"It's open."
You opened the door and slipped inside, Price had a cigar in his mouth and was idly sitting there relaxing.
"I uh... I finished my paperwork and I'd like my book back."
Price took a long drag of his cigar and looked at you. He motions you over, so you came. Price contemplates it. "Did you work hard Princess?"
Your insides drop.
"Yes Captain, I finished my paperwork." You try to ignore it but the things it did to you makes you feel utterly filthy.
John's free hand reaches your hip and strokes it with his thumb. He motions you down on his lap. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest. You maneuver to straddle him, all the heat in your stomach plunging further.
Price continues to rub your hip.
"Can't decide if you've been a good girl or not today, reading all those... Things."
You suddenly feel very inclined to make things better. Your heart leaps, leaning in and kissing his neck. "Captain." It comes out strained, trying to keep your breathing together.
Price continues to smoke his cigar as you kiss up his throat and down his collar.
He pulls you back gently and hums. "You've been a very good girl today, we all make mistakes darlin'"
"You've made daddy very happy. I think you deserve a reward."
You whine, that finally doing it too you. "Price!" You bury your head in his neck, hips pivoting and grinding against his thigh.
"Good girl. Tell me what you want sweetheart."
Your breaths come out jagged as you slide down to your knees and tug at his belt. Price chuckles.
He presses out his cigar and undoes his belt for you. You pry open his zipper and kiss along his stomach. Price's hand strokes the back of your head when you pull out his cock.
"That's it," he coos. "take daddy's cock like a good girl."
You whine, kissing his length and taking him in your mouth. His hand curls in your hair, letting you have a moment before gently guiding you down on his length.
He groans deeply, watching you choke when you reach his base. "There you go, such a good girl for daddy."
You come back up, choking on spit. He lights up another cigar while you bob your head down the Captain's length. Price watches you, tangling his fingers in your hair.
He brought you back down all the way and kept you there, watching you choke and swallow harshly. He grins and takes another drag.
Price did not let you leave his office until you had fully earned the rights to your book back in full.
I don't trust myself to write smut guys, I'm sorry if it's weird
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Gaz stayed close to your ear as you read. Word after word. You read about each scene, the ideas of the lewd acts leaving an imprint on you.
Gaz's warm hands trailed down your collarbone. You tried to read, your breathing getting heavy.
"And he- Kyle-!"
Kyle kissed your lobe, hands sinking under your shirt. You whined for the touch but Gaz wasn't going to have it. "Keep reading sweetheart."
"Not like this-"
He pinches and twists your nipples. "Read it sweetheart." His tone remains smooth as honey as delicate as a flower, but his actions are commanding, telling you to read.
You gulp and keep reading, even as his hands groped and play, making your insides hurt so good.
You whimpered, shuddering when you flipped the page. Gaz's hands trailed back up your shirt and he rounded the couch. Finally you could see his handsome face in front of you.
"Kyle-"
"I doubt my name is in that book." He kneels in front of you, and you can see the bulge in his pants.
He pushes your knees apart gently with his hands and slowly pulls off your pants. You keep reading, your voice growing shaky and stumbling over words In anticipation of his next move.
Your bottom half completely exposed, Kyle moved forward, sinking two fingers into your cunt.
You gasped and moaned.
"Oh please, please Kyle-"
He slaps you gently, removing his fingers.
Tears start to fill your eyes, trying to read. Just two more pages, just two more pages. But you didn't want it to end.
You recapture your thoughts as much as you can and continue. As you as you start, so does Kyle, sinking in and pressing his tongue between your legs.
You jump, shifting your hips in excitement. Kyle keeps you steady, working you unwound so effortlessly.
You gasp and pant through your words, shaking and moaning loudly. Your thoughts begin to slur together with each stroke of his tongue.
His fingers dip into your entrance again, stretching you nicely around him while his tongue teases your clit with fast flicks.
You manage to finish the chapter and toss the book on the couch. You throw your head back and moan, pressing your hands through Kyle's hair.
"Kyle- more, more, more!!" He brings you undone so effortlessly. You rake your fingers over his scalp, canting your hips up against him in pleasure.
Kyle hums happily, sucking your clit. "Good job sweetheart." He mutters.
Everything feels hot and dizzy when you reach your limit, spasming and coming.
You pant, head heavy and empty. He laps at your spend and kisses your clit, making you jerk your hips.
Kyle kisses up your stomach. "You did so well for me sweetheart." He whispers. "Good girl."
You whimper when he leans over you, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek.
"Now, get comfortable. If you don't come a second time before they get back, I'll let them watch."
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You slip into Ghost's room, the darkness making your skin crawl. The barren walls and the simple bed in the corner.
You reach the middle of the room and Ghost was back behind you, guiding you to the wall and pressing himself up against you.
"Should have known you'd come here for more."
His hand strokes your throat, pulling your head back and locking his thumb and forefinger into the sensitive spots under your jaw.
You moan, hands curling into fists against the cold wall.
"Ghost..." You whimper.
He grunts, rutting his hips down against you, holding you perfectly still like a doll. You gasp and fight for air in your lungs, your insides betraying how you should be feeling.
"You into this shit?" He asks, voice raspy against your ear.
"Please, please Ghost-"
He growls and presses you closer to the wall, his hand grabs your hip and arches your back.
Tears fill your eyes and you pull at his hand.
He scoffs. "You are into this shit."
He keeps you pressed against the wall though his hands leave you. You hear his belt buckle click and slide and it makes your heart race.
When he's ready he grabs your arm and turns you around. You look up at him, he grabs your shoulder and forces you down onto your knees.
"Ghost-"
"Shush. I didn't ask you to talk."
Tears slip down your cheeks, you inch closer and take his hard cock in your hand.
He watches you with his usual disapproving look as you take him into your mouth. You barely get halfway before you start to choke.
Ghost grabs the back of your head and forces you down. You choke and grab his thighs for support, more tears in your eyes.
He grunts. "You like this don't you? You and your weird fuckin' books."
You can't reply, trying to take Ghost as best you could.
He tugs your hair, rocking his hips against you. His hands slide down from your hair to your jaw. He cups your jaw and your neck, keeping you still while he uses you.
He went until your jaw was sore and all you could do was moan lazily.
"Fucking whore." He grunts, dragging the saliva on his cock over your bottom lip.
He forced you back up against the wall and wastes no time fingering you. It's not consistent or long, his fingers gone before you can enjoy it. He lines up his cock and is shoving into you. His girth stretches you wide and has you a moaning, melting mess. He shoves you further into the wall and your back arches. It's sloppy and his cock ruins your insides, your thoughts slurring until there was nothing left.
He kept his hand locked on your throat, watching you lose yourself with every thrust.
"Fuck-" he pounds into you, watching you writhe and whimper under him. He stretches you out and fucks you drunk on him.
And he was right, by the end of the night the story you'd read barely compared.
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Alejandro came between your legs and stroked your chin. "Quieres tanto esto, ¿verdad? Quieres ser una puta sólo para nosotros."
Your bottom lip wobbles.
Rodolfo moves you out of your seat and forces you down gently onto the floor. You watch Alejandro stand over you, forced down on your hands and knees when Rodolfo leans over you.
He presses his chest to your back, hands groping your chest.
Alejandro undoes his belt and strokes your chin. It's all too much, watching Alejandro and feeling Rodolfo undoing his own gear and pulling down your pants.
"Se ve tan hermoso para nosotros como este." Rodolfo whispers in your ear.
Your heart pounds in your chest.
"Say the word amor, and we're all yours." Alejandro purred.
"Please... Please, yes." You whimper.
Rodolfo's hand pulls down your underwear, pushing two fingers into your entrance. You gasp and moan, arching into it.
Alejandro grabs your chin firmly and presses his cock to your lips. Rodolfo makes you moan, Alejandro fitting his thick girth down your throat.
Tears fill your eyes. Alejandro guides you along his cock while Rodolfo peppers your back in soft kisses, stretching you out nicely.
He is gentle with you, whispering sweet words in your ear and playfully squeezing your breasts.
Alejandro feels heat pool in his stomach watching his best friend treat you like that. "Mm, you gonna let Rodolfo ruin you?? You gonna let him use you amor?"
Your knees shake, hands balling into fists, hungry and eager.
Rodolfo retracts his fingers and lines up to you. He shares a glance with Alejandro before pushing in. It stretches and burns, his girth much thicker than you expected. And it makes you choke down on Alejandro.
They rock you back and forth. The soft front Rodolfo had put up soon gone as he pounds at an unholy pace deep inside of you.
"Fuck yes, letting us ruin you like this." Rodolfo growled. He fit you so nicely inside your walls. You come faster than you'd expected, clenching around Rodolfo and whimpering as you come.
It all went so fast, at some point Rodolfo had picked you up in his arms like you weighed nothing and slammed you down on the desk. Alejandro purring with each rough stroke, Rodolfo rocking you against the desk.
"Mira lo que le has hecho a Alejandro, puta."
Alejandro is a mess, movements frantic and desperate. He has a tight hold on your throat when he finishes, head falling back as he slows.
Rodolfo holds out, making you gasp and moan loudly before he finishes soon after, leaving you a mess. Feeling warm and destroyed.
Alejandro sees the tired hungry glazing over your eyes. He smears the last of his spend across your lips.
"You won't be needing that book back my dear." Alejandro whispers in your ear.
A/N: I don't write smut often, and not for XReaders, but I knew what I was getting into so I did my best to make you a worthy part 2 with the criteria I was comfortable with. It's a bit awkward because it's not a whole fic, but I think it's ok. And I do hope you enjoyed it. Now I'm going to go write something fluffy to reclaim my soul.
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