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14dayswithyou · 8 days

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Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

#💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#to be tagged later #icant-pickthenameiwant

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andypantsx3 · 1 year

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fingerprints | 8 | todoroki x reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 3.3k of est. 37k words | 8th of 9 chapters

summary: When you’re outed as pro hero Shouto’s soulmate on national television, there are really only two sensible things for you to do: blame someone else and run.

tags/warnings: romance, soulmate au, fluff, pining, not actually unrequited love, aged up characters, eventual smut

Cooking with Shouto turned out to be a disaster.

Though armed with a coherent recipe and what were ostensibly all the correct ingredients, what you produced barely met the metric for edibility.

Shouto, for his part, chopped ingredients as though he had never once encountered terminology such as careful and uniform, producing an array of sliced vegetables whose size varied from microscopic to nearly fist-sized. He looked so handsomely put out when you set upon him to correct his work that you had to smother a laugh into the collar of your sweater for risk of offending him further.

You, however, did not actually fare much better. Ordinarily you were a passable cook, nowhere near gifted but not quite helpless either. But the sight of Todoroki Shouto in your kitchen, sleeves rolled to his elbows and a little pout on his mouth as he concentrated, was way too distracting for you.

You missed entire steps in the recipe, only to have to circle back later, and the amount of time your eyes spent glued to Shouto’s firm biceps as he chopped meant you also missed huge swathes of time, leading to a slightly-burnt tasting sauce and overdone chicken.

Shouto made things even worse by consulting his phone, murmuring directions in his mind-numbingly low tone, so gentle and hypnotic that you forgot to listen to the actual steps.

In the end, though, it didn’t even matter. You were so pleased to just be with him, in the same space, doing something distracting together.

You loved the way he took up space in your peripheral, his broad shoulders making the kitchen seem smaller than it was. You loved the scrunch on his nose when he concentrated particularly hard, the way his elegant fingers curled around the handle of the knife, the way he’d lean in close to you to get something at your side.

He was such good, easy company, and it made you fall even more helplessly in love with him than you already were.

The two of you ate stuffed together at your coffee table, reaping the inedibility that you had sown, but you found yourself too satisfied to care. Shouto, too, did not look like he minded much that whatever you made probably in no way approximated the recipe Fuyumi had given him.

When it was finally time for him to go, Shouto leaned in and drew you into another hug, pressing you tightly against him once again.

It made your head swim with all of the questions that were beginning to crop up about this new phase of your relationship. About what it meant that you’d been exposed, and things were only going to get more public from here. About what it meant that Shouto was getting notably free with your person. About what it meant that he’d bought you a property for your animal rescue, and had roped his own mother into helping him fund it for you.

None of those things had seemed at all possible just twenty-four hours ago—and yet here you were, a publicly-recognizable, thoroughly-hugged future owner of an animal rescue.

Shouto left with a final press of his fingers to the skin of your hand, watching raptly as the color flooded your skin. He leveled a kneecap-shattering smile at you, and promised to see you soon.

And then he left you alone, feeling better, but with about a zillion more questions than you’d had to start with.

The ensuing weeks only made things more confusing.

You were mostly confined to your apartment as the Todoroki Agency did its level best to combat the rampant speculation on your identity and the nature of your relationship to Shouto. The tack they seemed to be taking so far was that Yoshizuki Ayumi’s speculations were intended specifically to hype up sales of her book, and were not grounded in any true knowledge of who Shouto had come into contact with that day.

Shouto’s terrifying manager was in the news daily, running circles around the press in her little pearl set and tight ponytail. You knew it was only a matter of time until the truth was fully revealed, and you’d have been more sorry to her if Shouto hadn’t sent you a litany of texts implying she was having the time of her life cooking and eating reporters for breakfast.

Shouto continued to text you updates from his patrols, pictures of things he’d seen, lunches he’d eaten, cats he’d rescued from trees. He called you after every shift, sometimes directly after, and you’d hear the unbuckling of his uniform in the background, the rustle of cloth as it slid off him.

Those phone calls gave heart palpitations of the worst sort, though not as bad as when Shouto himself turned up at your apartment, greeting the rotation of heroes who’d taken to guarding your neighborhood. You met an entire slew of heroes you’d only ever heard of—Mudman, Lizardy, and most excitingly, Cellophane, all of whom you learned had been Shouto’s classmates at UA.

You spent your free hours consolidating your rescue funding plan, and working with a contact Shouto had provided on the plans to remodel the building he’d purchased. You tried to keep costs down, already overwhelmed by the amount of debt you were in to him, but Shouto seemed to have stipulated to the contractor that no dollar amounts were to be provided to you.

You reamed him out over text once you’d figured it out, only to be immediately steamrolled into silence by a selfie of Shouto with Princess, her cream-and-orange face pressed contentedly up against his inhumanly handsome one. Your mind blanked once confronted with that kind of cuteness, and you couldn’t think of a single thing to text back that wouldn’t give away how horrifyingly whipped you were.

Shouto was notably smug the next time you saw him.

You also worked up the nerve to start cold-calling possible donors to the rescue, armed with an opening date and operational model. You registered for non-profit status, drowning in heaps of government paperwork. You posted job listings for volunteers and full-timers, and reached out to Mari to gauge her interest. Handed in my 2 weeks!!, she texted you immediately.

You set up an accounting system and budget, a mission statement, and got in touch with every kennel, shelter, and veterinary office within thirty kilometers, alerting them to the impending opening of your rescue, your policies, and your capacity.

It was unbelievable that you were finally getting to do the thing you had always wanted to do, and that Todoroki Shouto—your soulmate—had made it happen for you.

And that left you with the final, most dizzying question of your relationship to him.

Because Shouto was being confusing as hell.

It still needled you, weeks into these new developments, that everything Shouto was doing for you was too much. It was absolutely beyond what a normal friend would do for someone, even if that friend was as rich and well-known as Shouto was. Opening an animal rescue on someone’s behalf itself was huge, and possibly within the bounds of platonicness and professionalism if you squinted. Maybe.

But Shouto was in touch so constantly that you wondered how he had time for anyone else. The end-of-shift calls were long, sometimes taking you both hours into the evening as you chatted idly while you cooked, while you cleaned, while Shouto played with Princess. When he spoke, he mentioned time with his mother and sister and his friends, but nothing about time with Yaoyorozu Momo, and between all the time he spent on shift, sleeping, and speaking to you, you thought he had very little time left.

He was more forward than ever, too, sitting close whenever you were together, pressing his fingers to your skin in greeting or in parting. But he never made any particular move that might be construed as romantic—he never moved in to kiss you, even if sometimes (very privately) you thought he looked almost like he was waiting again.

You didn’t know what to make of it. All of it taken together–the gifts, the rescue, the time together, the personal space—it all seemed too unbelievable. You knew you were just an aggressively plain, average girl, and the daily tweets that were still flung your way confirmed that. But Shouto made you feel—made you feel—

He made you feel different. Special. Precious.

Confused as hell.

It was the impending release of Yoshizuki Ayumi’s book, however, that pushed things to a head. Though Shouto’s agency had been able to delay the book and cast doubt on Ayumi’s publicity efforts, there were no legal grounds on which the book might be stopped altogether. And you honestly didn’t think that would have been fair, even if there had been. Technically, she wasn’t wrong. And technically, you had thrown her under the bus first, all those months ago.

You didn’t like the thought of being publicly known.

But you had been able to avoid it long enough to get to know Shouto naturally, organically, peacefully, without any of the pressure of public opinion that might have otherwise altered the nature of your relationship, ambiguous as it was. And when you thought about it deeply enough, that’s all you really could have asked for.

It was roughly a week from the revised book release date when Shouto told you the agency would need to make a definitive statement once and for all. And then he shocked you.

“I will leave it up to you,” he told you, one evening in his living room, where he’d finally been able to smuggle you for a change of scenery.

Princess had seemed thrilled to see you when you’d arrived, surprisingly, almost twice the size of when you’d seen her last and looking more haughty and elegant than ever. She’d padded over to give you a greeting sniff, and had immediately seized the hem of your pants with her claws, a familiar routine. You’d sank onto Shouto’s couch and let her highness do her worst to the bottom of your jeans.

“You what?” you’d echoed, staring at him in the soft buttery light of his lamps.

Shouto watched you carefully, his handsome face solemn. “I have thought about it,” he said in his low, soft tone. It was gentler than ever, and yet strangely shuttered, as though he didn’t want to betray any of his own opinion in his voice.

“I will not pressure you to be my soulmate publicly,” he said. “There are options. If you wish it, I can tell the public we are not. I can tell them I am a donor to your rescue and our relationship is purely professional. I have discussed it with my manager. It would be feasible that we would have spoken in debriefs after the attack, and that I’d identified your rescue as a charitable cause for the agency to invest in.”

The idea of continued privacy was admittedly tempting, but you did not like the carefully blank look on Shouto’s face as he continued. “However, we would be watched after that. I…We would no longer be able to meet like this,” he said.

He paused a long time, before finally adding, “I would do it, if that was what you wanted. It will be…difficult for you, once you are known, you can never regain that privacy again. I do not want you to have to experience that.”

You sat there, shocked by the idea. You hated the idea of not getting to see Shouto like this anymore. Much as you’d resisted it at first, you loved the time spent with him–how easy, effortless, comfortable it was–yet heady, thrilling, exciting. He took up so much of your headspace every day, the person you wanted to run to with news, the person you wanted to turn to when things felt overwhelming. Even if he wasn’t in love with you the way you’d always wanted your soulmate to be, the thought of giving him up just like that was unbearable.

But you also couldn’t help but wonder, privately, if there was anything else that motivated Shouto’s saying so. You knew he cared for you—there could be no doubt, after everything these past few weeks—but if he really did have a girlfriend, if he really was committed to someone else, if you really could never fit into his life the way you had always wanted…

You didn’t know how to weigh it. Your privacy vs the uncertain balance of this soulmate relationship. Your disbelief that Shouto meant for you to feel as special as you sometimes did versus the unshakeable feeling that he did mean it.

You needed more time. More information. More perspective—

You wanted to choose Shouto. You knew you did. You just wanted to be sure that Shouto wanted you, more than anything, to choose him too.

There was one last thing you wanted to scope out, you thought, before you made the choice that would define your relationship forever. One last corner of his life that you hadn’t been directly privy to, to figure out how you would fit into it, and what his relationship was to everyone once and for all.

You summoned up the courage and turned to Shouto, as Princess victoriously tugged a thread free from your jeans, letting out an ugly yowl that nearly drowned out your next few words: “I think…Shouto, would it be okay if I met your friends?”

The former members of UA’s hero classes gathered biweekly at a dive bar downtown. Chargebolt and Red Riot had apparently picked it shortly after graduation for the central location and cheap drinks that paired well with a brand new pro hero’s meager starting wage.

Over the years, most everyone from Classes A and B had rocketed their way up the ranks, but they had become so accustomed to and so unreasonably fond of the place, that it was still their go-to meeting spot almost a decade onwards. It certainly looked divey from the window, dark and dim, decorated mainly in neon beer brand signs and crammed with cheap stools and tables bearing decades of scratches.

Despite its shabby appearance, your spine still prickled with nerves as you approached, Shouto a long, lean shadow beside you.

“What is it, love?” he asked, leaning in.

Your heartbeat kicked into your throat. He’d been calling you that so much lately—love—and every time it sent your head spinning. You really didn’t think it was all that platonic of a nickname, and it was just another reason you had to make sure this evening that Shouto really meant for you to choose him.

The back of his hand pressed to yours, and you gratefully seized it, shuffling a little nearer to him like you could absorb his calm demeanor if you were just close enough. Your whole body prickled with awareness of his hand in yours, those long, pretty fingers gripping you carefully. You didn’t look down, but you knew the pads of your fingers were leaving smudges of color all along each other’s skin.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you admitted. “I want to make a good impression.”

Shouto’s heterochromatic gaze picked over you carefully, and he bent his head to look you in the face. “You already have.”

You looked at him curiously, and he took a step forward, gently tugging you with him, steering you into the bar’s interior. You could have sworn you saw the tip of Shouto’s right ear go a little pink against the white of his hair.

“You were all the Class A group chat would talk about, when it first happened,” he said, his tone carefully blank. “Some of them quite liked that you made me give chase.” You thought if his tone wasn’t so meticulously devoid of emotion, he might sound like he was pouting.

“Hell fucking yeah we did, that was the funniest shit I had ever seen!” a bright voice chirped, and suddenly a wide smile and electric yellow hair were filling up your vision. “I’m Kaminari Denki,” the man introduced himself, and you realized you were speaking to pro hero Chargebolt. He appeared to be attempting to blind you with a million watt smile. “I’m a huge fan of the running.”

You took his proffered hand and gave your own name, unable to help laughing. “I didn’t really mean to leave him there like that. I just panicked.”

Kaminari’s smile widened and he was joined by Mina Ashido—pro hero Pinky—who grinned brightly at you too. “I think it did him a little good,” she whispered conspiratorially. “He’s never had to chase a girl in his life.”

Your face heated at the implication, and Shouto’s fingers tightened in yours almost possessively. Mina just looked at him and laughed, blowing him an apologetic kiss, and then turned and beckoned you over to the corner that Class A had taken over. They’d pushed several tables together and dragged over some stools from the bar, and a dozen members were already present, sipping beers, chatting and laughing, some of them waving invitingly.

Mina found you a seat between her and pro hero Cellophane—Sero Hanta, who you’d already met a few times on duty at your apartment, who fist-bumped you in greeting, smiling his huge toothy grin. Then he turned and fist-bumped Shouto, who looked long used to this treatment.

“Shouto, man, good to see you. Even better to see you, Y/N,” he said. He introduced you to the rest of the people at the table—which included some truly dizzying names, like Midoriya Izuku, the number one hero Deku, who smiled sweetly at you from beneath wild green curls, waving a heavily scarred hand.

It wasn’t even a minute before Mina was plonking some aggressively pink drink in front of you—”My favorite, trust me you will love it!”—and you were immediately absorbed into the group’s conversation, like you’d always been there.

They were a friendly, rowdy, extremely tight-knit bunch, as anyone would be, after all they’d been through together as a class. You were fascinated by the dynamic—Shouto was alternately roasted within an inch of his life and indulged as the baby of the group—all it took was a little pout from him and he instantly got whatever he wanted. You appreciated that you weren’t the only one who was helpless against him.

When Shouto ordered his first drink—something fruity, served in a voluptuously curvy poco grande and garnished with a rainbow of fruits and a little umbrella—Kaminari seemed to start down the well-worn grooves of an old conversation. “So secure in his masculinity,” he sighed as Shouto sipped, his long fingers toying with the pink umbrella. You stifled a fond smile in the collar of your jacket.

Mina kept you in a steady rotation of luridly-colored, juice-heavy drinks, all of which Shouto seemed to want a sip from, and you slowly relaxed into the ease of everyone’s company. You thought maybe you did have a place in Shouto’s life, could fill the space at his side, and it would be as easy as breathing.

You just needed to confirm one more thing.

You were on your third drink, beginning to smile a little bit goofily, when the door blew open and in walked the final piece of your mission this evening. She was tall, elegant, and as dangerously curved as Shouto’s poco grande glass had been, her hair pulled up in her iconic dark ponytail, swinging daintily.

Yaoyorozu Momo: pro hero Creati.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x you

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speakeasyaoi · 9 months

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Mordecai Heller x GN!Reader

> Requested by @scrunkalicious | I thought I needed details to come up with anything, but I managed with a simple prompt just fine! Feel free to ask another request with the specifications you mentioned. :)

PROMPT: N/A

It is going to take a very, very long time to break down Mordecai's walls enough for him to entertain the idea of a relationship, especially if he wasn't the one to initially fall for you. It's crucial that you gain his trust and respect before trying to go for anything romantic, and it's more likely to win him over if it's a slow, gradual progression. He's not going to be the one to ask you out first, either, you'll need to put in work to get him to let you into his life.

Mordecai tends to be subtle and 'quieter' when it comes to displays of affection; he loathes PDA, both as a witness and participant, and goes so far as to avoid even mentioning that he's taken or citing you as his partner. He highly prefers it to be a private affair, both because he finds it to be more intimate and meaningful that way, and he's paranoid that anyone around him could use the fact that he has a soft spot for you against him. Though, the fact that he doesn't stop you from getting up close to him or having any kind of conversation with him tips off the people around him to the fact that you're more than just an acquaintance.

He goes out of his way to avoid physical contact of any kind to begin with, but if you've got him in the right place at the right time, he just melts. He's been so touch starved for so long that any affection at all is like a breath of fresh air to him, and he'll cling to that for as long as he can. If he's exhausted from a grueling day of work and too tired to put up his stoic, reserved front, he'll maybe give you a fleeting kiss or let you cuddle up next to him in bed, but it's rare he'll ever initiate physical affection. He's more than willing to let you dote on him, however.

He isn't particularly fond of using petnames or terms of endearment, but he'll tolerate being called 'sweetheart' or 'darling' sparingly, so long as there's no one else present to overhear. He's not going to tell you how good it makes him feel.

It's important to him that his partner is well-groomed, hygenic, and dressed properly, and if he finds that you fall short in any of these aspects, he'll just take to handling it himself. He's not above washing and bathing you, dressing you in the mornings, trimming your hair or helping you shave. If he thinks your outfit is too wrinkled, he'll smooth it out for you. If he isn't fond of how your hair is done up, he'll fix it. He doesn't quite take personal boundaries into account, he just wants his partner to be presentable.

If you aren't working for Marigold at the time you're together, Mordecai is extremely vocal and adamant about the fact that he doesn't want you to be involved in it in the slightest for your own sake, and if you are working together, it's likely he'll try and talk you down from your position, as he did with Viktor. (Excluding the kneecapping part. ...Maybe.) He stresses for your safety in that regard, whether you're involved through being close to him or directly working for the gang, and it's pretty apparent when he does.

Mordecai's top love language is 100% acts of service, no contest. He takes pride in doing things for you, taking on tasks and chores that you'd otherwise have to deal with on your own, cleaning and tidying your home without you even having to ask. It lets him show him that he loves you and cares about you in a way that doesn't require him being overly sappy or touchy, and he highly appreciates that.

To Mordecai, being vulnerable around you is his way of showing that he loves you. Having an opportunity to be around someone he doesn't constantly have to stay on-guard with is a much needed change of pace for him, and a display of his trust in you. Something as simple as not wearing his full uniform around you or not being as stiff and argumentative as he would be with his coworkers and peers means a lot on his part.

He can be rather controlling, not for the sake of being manipulative or stripping you of your autonomy, but he's confident in the fact that he knows best, and he wants what's best for you. He won't force you into anything, but if he believes you could be doing something more efficiently and effectively, he's sure to let you know. This can fuel some light bickering and disagreements, but it's always meant well- he's just very stubborn about it.

He doesn't often enjoy any kind of dates, but every now and then he'll save up a bit of extra money and treat you out to a nice, classy formal dinner; ensuring that everything is kosher and up to his standards beforehand. It's nothing sappy or overtly romantic, but gifting his partner something expensive (enough to be high quality, but not so much it's gaudy and frivolous) is something that's rather important to him, seeing how impoverished he had been growing up. He's also not opposed to taking a brisk stroll with you.

Other notes: this was a little difficult considering the fact I don't envision Mordecai as a very romantic person, so I hope these aren't bland at all- it's also notable that I think Mordecai would treat a male, female and nonbinary partner very differently, but I tried to keep these as vague as possible nonetheless

#lackadaisy x reader #mordecai heller x reader #mordecai heller x gn!reader #lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #mordecai heller #lackadaisy comic #lackadaisy mordecai #lackadaisy x gn reader #mordecai heller x gn reader

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littlemissclandestine · 4 months

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Why I think Russell Adler is going to make a comeback in COD 2024

WARNING⚠️: Contains spoilers for Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War and Call of Duty: Black Ops 2

Disclaimer: This is all just speculation on my behalf of course. I've just tried piecing stuff together for fun because Russ is one of my fave BO characters even though he's a bitch but i need more Adler content stat. <33

Let's get into it peeps. HEAR ME OUT.

Buckle up. Gonna be one hell of a ride folks 🤪

We'll start off with some random/background info.

Russ was born on February 12th 1937 so that would make him 53/54 in the Gulf War era. This actually isn't that old because if you think about it, Woods was about to turn 51 in 1981 during the Cold War campaign. What's a few more years?

We last saw Adler in action post-campaign in Warzone 1.0 cinematics but we've been kept in the dark about Adler's whereabouts post-1984 (after being brainwashed and killing Stitch LOL).

This meanie in a beanie wasn't forgotten about, oh no. He appears in the new cinematic intros on startup for both MWII (2022) and MWIII (2023). See below:

He was also featured twice in the 20 year anniversary video for Call of Duty whereas COD Ghosts didn't even get an appearance (ouch): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eL_w5HmxsPI

I personally believe Adler was a great addition to the Black Ops roster and is essentially the new Black Ops 'cover boy' now. Would be such a shame and a missed opportunity not to include a character like him in the upcoming COD. One who is morally grey, does whatever he deems necessary to get the job done - a bit like Cpt. Price in MW. Got the COD fans riled up about him brainwashing and pulling the trigger on Bell too - he's already got the spotlight in both a good and bad way.

Now, let's explore my main reasoning as to why I think Mr Shades 2.0 is most likely coming back in late 2024...

🎖️First up: Gulf War mission list 🔫

Here are some of the campaign missions that will be featured in Black Ops Gulf War. Obviously, this is subject to change, however, going off what we have, look closely...

Credit: @MWIIINTEL on Twitter/X

Safehouse guys...SAFEHOUSE. Takes you right back to Cold War, doesn't it? Ugh the potential.

🕵️ Next up: The campaign for COD 2024 will dive into the CIA's role/the Black Ops timeline 🕘

I took the following snippet from this official article.

From this, we know there will be a huge focus on the CIA and who's a CIA clandestine special officer? Mhm, you guessed it - Russell Adler.

Now, according to the events of BO2, it's evident which characters have the possibility of returning out of our original BO trio - Jason Hudson, Frank Woods and Alex Mason.

💫 Alex is presumed dead after Frank shot him so he's out the picture in '90/91 until 2025 when they canonically meet again.

🪵 Woods would be in his 60s during this time too so I'll let you decide whether that's too old for him to be in GW.

Edit: Woods got SPAS-12'd in the kneecaps on Dec 20th 1989 by Raul Menendez so uh...yeah

🧊 Hudson died on Dec 20th 1989 at the hands of Raul Menendez.

Feel free to check out this website (Call of Duty Wiki) for an outline of the events after CW to remind yourself. Here's a link to the Black Ops timeline from there.

➡️ Gulf War being a direct sequel to Cold War and what that could mean 💉

That brings me onto the rest of the safehouse crew. Since GW is a direct sequel to CW, it would make sense for some characters to carry over if possible:

We, as the player/Bell, get to choose whether Park or Lazar die (or both lovebirds) in 'End of the Line'. It's highly unlikely they'll return unless the devs make one decision canon maybe.

There could be a chance we see Sims again given his bond with Adler (Da Nang etc.), his age (late 40s in GW) and his status (alive).

That leaves the man himself, Russ. Everything from his age to the fact he's CIA and was the deuteragonist in COD 2020's campaign just makes sense for him to have at least a lil cameo or even a larger role, don't you think?

📱Finally: Hints from official posts 🔎

This post from Call of duty's official Instagram account kind of sealed the deal for me.

Oh lookie - they dropped syringe-lover's famous line in a zombies post. Why would COD just drop it so casually like that without a reason and years after CW came out? They could've said absolutely anything else but no, this was purposeful.

And that's all for this episode guys and gals!

Thank you for reading!! 🫂

Do what you will with all this information but I have concluded in my silly little brain that scarface is coming back.

How he's only in one game is beyond me. Won't get a character like him ever again. Seems like a cliché war dude at first glance but dig a little deeper into the details of the CW campaign, peel back the layers and get into his psychology and WOWZERS.

Am I delusional? Most definitely.

But the possibility he might be returning...that little bit of hope is enough for me and i won't shut up about it.

This will age horribly if he isn't in GW. Forgive me for feeding your delusions too in that case. Please?

What are your thoughts? Feel free to share them! 😊

#this took forever rip #but you see where i'm coming from?#might do a part two if anything else gets leaked #Star's bottomless waffles ☆#call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #black ops 2 #alex mason #frank woods #russell adler #jason hudson #black ops gulf war #cod cw #cod cold war #call of duty black ops #call of duty cold war #cod 2024

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chattahoochiecoochie · 1 year

Text

Patients, Plural

Summary: A bengals athletic trainer gets caught up with her favorite and his friend.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: mild dub con / inappropriate workplace behavior

A/N: Apparently I don’t have rules or boundaries because this is X Reader which is against all of the above. So fuck it, I guess let me know if you want more, of whatever this is specifically.

“Pigtails today, huh?” Sam is laying back, staring at you like he always does, with that funny look in his eye like he might know something he shouldn’t.

“Yup.” You pop the ‘P’, trying to seem nonchalant as you work your way up from his knee. It’s always a knee, one or the other.

He comes in, limping a little, wincing when you finally get up to his thigh. Always hiding the same slight smirk when you tell him to take his leg out of his pants—just the one—so you can tape him up. He always goes for both legs, pretending to be flustered when you tell him you only need the problem leg undressed.

So that's where you are now, face to face with his problem leg, trying not to blush as he flexes beneath your touch. It's worse today, with two sets of eyes on you. Joe Burrow is in the chair behind you, waiting with more patience than Sam has probably ever held a day in his whole life. But he’s looking at you, watching—albeit with a different look in his eye than Sam.

“It’s cute.”

You say nothing, biting your tongue as you wrap the black tape around his kneecap, one hand tracing over it as you press it to his skin.

“You’re cute.” He twists slightly beneath you, looking over at Joe. “She’s cute, isn’t she?”

Joe says nothing, and though your back is to him, you’re sure he’s probably blushing like you are, shy under Sam’s dangerous tone.

“Joey thinks you’re cute too.”

You sigh, looking at the warped tape, your work messed up by his movement. Committed to the bit, Sam sees the frustration on your face and puts a hand over yours, swinging his legs off the table as he hoists himself up to sit in front of you.

“You know, it actually feels pretty good. Thanks for taking a look at it.” He shakes his leg for good measure, knee knocking against your thigh. Somehow, he’s still holding your hand, and when you pull away, his grip tightens. Smiling at you, he rips the tape off his knee with his free hand.

“Your turn Joey.” Sliding off the table, he stands in front of you for a moment before letting you go, moving to stand beside you. “I think I’ll watch.”

“Your quad again?” You look at Joe, trying to keep your tone professional. He nods, standing up from the chair. God he’s tall. They both are. Sam’s taller, bigger too, but they’re both so damn tall. For a moment, you falter, getting lost as you stand between the two of them.

��‘Kay, get that right leg out for me and hop up here.” He’s wearing shorts, always more thoughtful than Sam is.

With broad hands, he tucks the hemline into his briefs and hops onto the table with his thigh exposed.

All too aware of Sam behind you, you turn your fractured attention to Joe, prodding him with delicate hands to identify the source of his discomfort. Where Sam is always a knee, Joe is always a thigh. For a moment, you find the pattern between the two of them. It slips from your grasp as Sam inches closer, until his chest grazes your shoulder.

Shuddering at the touch, you blink slowly, trying to look harder at the man lying in front of you. “Here? How about here?”

With a soft groan he tenses beneath your touch. The area is tight to the touch—at least he’s not a faker.

Pressing your fingers deeper, you feel around the area for more tightness. Behind you, Sam shifts, bracing against the table.

“I thought I was special.” From the corner of your eye you can see him pouting slightly. “You touch everyone like this?”

“I’m a trainer.”

“Did you think you were special, Joey?”

“I am.”

“Oh Mister Quarterback thinks he’s special.”

“I am.” Taking the bait, Joe looks up at you with a glint in his eye. “Aren’t I?”

It’s unconscious, the way you play into his hand. He’s trickier than Sam, with those baby blue eyes and long lashes. It seems so innocent.

“Very.” You turn away from them both, reaching for your tape, regret only flashing through your mind when you turn back to find Joe smirking at his friend.

“She thinks I’m very special.” He swats Sam across the stomach. “I’m probably her favorite patient.”

“I—” Yes, yes definitely.

“He’s your favorite? Joey’s your favorite patient?”

“I don’t…” You falter, suddenly very aware of the way Sam is standing against you.

“You don’t have favorites?”

“Careful, Sam gets jealous easy.” Joe laughs, his nose wrinkling as the sound rings out.

“I’m not jealous.” A hand is in your hair suddenly. From the corner of your eye you can see Sam winding his fingers through the end of one of your pigtails. “Not yet.”

Joe has a serious look on his face suddenly, and he’s tense beneath you. Leaning on your hands for balance you pry away from Sam’s looming figure. How long have you been holding his leg like this?

“Does Joey get special treatment? Since he’s your favorite?” It’s so hot in here, and Joe’s on fire beneath you. You’re still holding him? “Do you blush when you touch him? You get all rosy when you work on me, I bet you blush for Joe don’t you?”

“I…”

It’s hazy, the scene before you. Sam’s voice is deep and soft, softer than the hip of his that's digging into your back. When did Joe sit up? Your hands are on his thighs still, fingers spread across the broad space.

“You kiss him better? Your favorite patient?” Sam's hand is on your back, crawling towards your waist until he’s holding you steady against the table, between Joe’s spread legs. “She kiss it better for you Joey?”

“I don’t.” It's weak, your voice. Why does it sound so small?

“But you want to don’t you?” Sam’s breath is on your ear, he’s leaning down next to you, the scruff of his chin grazing you gently. They’d walked into your room together today, smirking at each other now that you were trying to remember. What had Sam been saying? Why hadn’t you paid more attention? “You wanna kiss Joey better?” There's his voice, pulling your attention back.

Without thinking, you dig your fingers into Joe’s skin, trying to find something to hold onto. Kiss who? Kiss him.

In your periphery, Sam is nodding. Why is he—oh.

Joe is kissing you, cupping your chin as his mouth works over yours. He’s so soft, so gentle against you. There's a whimper lost between the two of you, caught as he slides his tongue over your lip. Somewhere behind you, there's the distant sound of a door shutting and a lock falling into place. That's good.

A hand leaves his lap, finding the nape of his neck, your fingers work through his hair while he nips at you. He’s even gentle then, biting at you, with a grin you can feel. Another whimper leaves your lips as you press against the table, trying to get closer to him. Sucking at his lip, you let the palm of your other hand dig deeper into his thigh, sighing when he takes a hold of your wrist and pulls you even closer.

There's weight behind you suddenly—Sam. Before you can react, his hand is back on your waist where it had been moments earlier, and his breath is on your neck, and then his mouth.

You falter against Joe, shivering as Sam kisses the side of your neck. “’S’okay.” He whispers against you, his other hand coming up to hold your chin steady. Together, he and Joe both now have a hold on your face. Broad hand around your neck, you relax into Sam’s grasp, lost between the two of them.

It’s dizzying, when they finally let you up for air, Sam’s hand even softer on you as Joe’s falls away completely. Hands in his lap, his forehead rests on yours, a loose curl trapped between the two of you. He’s breathing heavily, and his cheeks are flushed pink. God he’s pretty.

“I think Sam feels left out.” You follow his eyes to your right, catching Sam’s gaze. “Go on.” Joe's voice is gentle, and soon his hand replaces Sam’s on your waist.

With far less grace, Sam presses himself against you. He’s rougher to the touch, the scruff on his chin rough against you as he kisses you. He’s heavier on you, and he bites harder, nipping at your lip like he means it, tugging on it until you relax into him. There's a warm feeling spreading through you when he finally lets up a little, sucking on your tongue as he holds you by the throat. Tighter, you think.

You must say it out loud, into his mouth, because his grip is stronger suddenly, fingers pressed into the side of your neck as he kisses you harder.

A hand still on your waist—is it Joey’s still? Another grabs at the one still in Joe’s lap, splaying your fingers across something warm. Twisting in Sam’s grasp, your eyes open. Hand over yours, Joe has you touching him. A whimper rises in your throat and Sam’s grip tightens again.

Releasing your mouth, he turns his attention back to your neck, relaxing only enough to let you look down at Joe’s lap. He’s hard under your hand, thighs flexed as he strains against your touch.

“I think Joey’s sore, baby.” Sam’s hand is falling from your neck, sliding down until he’s got your breast in his palm, rolling the sensitive skin under his fingers. “You don’t want your favorite patient sore, now do you?”

Your head shakes, and before you can think about it, Joe is helping you with the waistband of his shorts. God he’s—whose hand is that?

Still pressed to your back, Sam has a hand over your breast and another over the front of your leggings, his fingers grazing your center. “Joe, baby, worry about him. I’ll worry about you.” I’ll worry about you. Has Sam’s voice always been so deep?

Leaning back on the table, Joe has a hand braced behind him, and the other on the band of his shorts, holding them down as you turn your attention back to him. It’s big, just like the rest of him. Ignoring how heavy he is, you wrap your hand around it, shuddering as Sam touches you again.

There's a brief blur, as you begin to stroke Joe, all while trying to focus through Sam’s hands. He’s being so, so rough. Faltering against Joe, you shudder as Sam pulls your leggings down, tearing through the fabric.

You don’t know what happens first, but there's a hand at the back of your head, and one around your throat and you're choking for a moment. Joe’s cock is still in your hand but now he’s in your mouth, leaking onto your tongue. Behind you, Sam has his fingers on you—no—in you.

“That’s a good girl.” Joe’s voice sounds sweet, earnest, despite the vulgarity of the situation. You’re smiling at his tone when he pushes further into your mouth. When he moans, you’re grinning.

“Such a good girl, kissing Joe better while I touch you.” You're dripping around his fingers, warmth spreading down your thighs as he works his fingers within you. “You want more baby? You think she can take more, Joey?”

Through heavy eyes you look up in time to see Joey nodding weakly, jaw slack as he keeps himself steady against the back of your throat. I can, I can take more, please, Sam. You nod too, spit slipping down your chin.

And that's all it takes, in an instant, his fingers are replaced by something much bigger, and when you think it’s almost too much, just when you start to choke, he’s moving against you, hands braced at your sides as he grips the table in front of you.

“Just like that Sam, fuck.” Joe tenses, his thighs flexing as you rock against him. “God I wish you could see her face.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s so pretty.” Joe looks down at you, that same, earnest look in his bright blue eyes. “You’re such a pretty girl, taking him like that, choking all over me. She’s trying so hard.”

He’s still talking moments later, even when you’ve gotten lost again, and when he tenses again, he doesn’t stop. “Sam, dude, I can’t—fuck. God she’s so—Jesus Christ.” Babbling incoherently, his cock throbs against your lips until he’s spilling down the back of your throat, eyes rolling in his head.

You’ve hardly let him go when Sam follows. Hands tight on your waist, he bears down against you, chest pressed tight on you as he comes hard. And that’s it. It’s over in an instant, the heat of the moment gone, leaving only the wet feeling between your legs and the dribble of spit on your chin behind as evidence.

Body limp, you crumple against Joe’s chest, breathing heavy in time with the rising and falling of his shoulders. His heartbeat is loud and fast, thundering in his chest as you rest on him, unable to move.

With a hand on your cheek, he pulls you closer, using his shirt to wipe at your chin. In a moment of clarity later you would realize the sweetness of it, but for now, you just whimper into his hand, letting your tired eyes close as he holds you.

“Shhh.” Stroking your face with his thumb, you can hear movement behind you. Sam’s calloused hands are on you, tugging your leggings back up. With fingers too thick for fine work, he fumbles with the waistband, trying to smooth it out across your skin.

“There she is. How’s my favorite trainer?” Joe tilts your chin, meeting your eyes with a smirk playing on his lips. Really, really good.

“I…” Have you always stuttered this much? “I’m good.”

“Yeah?”

“Tired?” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, laughing.

“Thirsty?” It's the first thing you think of, cheeks pink with a twinge of embarrassment. They seem so put together, why are you such a mess?

“Yeah? You wanna get a beer, with your favorite patient maybe?”

“Patients. Plural.” Sam's voice is low and clear behind them. “It was my idea, after all.”

A/N: Find the next part here.

#HELL.#IN A HANDBASKET.#me for writing it you for reading it #and x reader????#😭😭😭#chattahoochiecoochie writes #joe burrow #sam hubbard #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fanfic #sam hubbard smut #bengals smut #idk what to tag this I'm so ashamed

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icyowl · 1 year

Note

NOW! Hear me out yandere vash {maybe throw in knives as the second yandere because may the reader show him human kindness or something like that} with reader like at first it's like a strange feeling to vash like ick but it started getting worse and worsening by time he know it his overprotective & possessive/obsessive over the reader and the rest is to you {And to throw in more drama to the flame make the reader related wolfwood so we have overprotective big brother! 👍} {+F!reader before I forget}

what's up!!

Now, yandere isn't my thing really..... but eh, who cares! Might as well get out of my box now and again:

Vash:

first are the thoughts. Like, he's thinking about you at all hours of the day. Food -- would you like if he got some for you? Sleep -- how are you sleeping? Are you cold or alone? Even in battle when he should be worrying about himself or others, he's only like where is she is she safe what if someone kidnaps her or takes her hostage I gotta find her help I'm fighting three bounty hunters and can't focus

At first he's a little put off because he has other things on his mind: his brother, saving the world, and staying alive, he doesn't have time for wandering thoughts. And like, why you? What is it about you that's special to him? why does he care what he does around you, or how he looks? Why is he insisting you put your tent next to his? Why does he want to offer the last bit of his food to make sure you're full? Why does he feel like he needs to see if his hair is the right kind of messy in any mirror he can find?

All it took was one time for you to wear his coat and do the dinosaur arms as a joke and Vash is gone. Now he does whatever he can to get and keep you in it: are you cold? You look cold, take my coat. It's sunny out, you should wear it to keep from getting sunburned. It restricts me, here, hold onto it for me. Oh, but I think you look so good in red. He daydreams about you in his coat. Maybe in only his coat.

It makes him feel like he's somehow got you wrapped up under his protection even if it's not really him exactly. Protective instincts go bbrrrrrrr

What was once a silly little quirk he had toward you has developed into a borderline problem. By now, he goes absolute gunslinger mode whenever someone tries to hurt you. He's pistol-whipping a guy across the face or shooting their weapon out of their hand before they can flinch or, if things get really spicy, he's even shoved the barrel into the mouth of a few guys, asking them to beg and swallow

And as Wolfwood's little sister, you bet your booty Nick and Vash are at each other's throats usually. Nick is being protective, but he also is genuinely creeped out by the way Vash looks at you. . . like he wants to devour you. More than once Vash has gotten on his last nerve and suddenly there's a six-foot-tall cross-shaped Gatling gun stabbed into the ground between you and Vash as some kind of barrier. Want a few extra holes, needle-noggin?

You've been the one unsullied thing in Nick's twisted, disgraceful life and he ain't about to let you out of his sight any time soon.

The one time they reconcile their differences is if someone manages to mess with you. Then it's on sight: Nick's got the high ground, Vash has the low ground, and suddenly the perpetrator-turned-victim has a gun to both his head and his kneecaps, or, if he's especially smarmy, right on his unmentionables. Their teamwork is breathtaking when they try.

You're the only one that can get them to back off or chill out, whether it be to strangers or each other. Occasionally Vash is so devoted and Nick is so belligerent that they end up in a flurry of fists and kicks in the sand, but in the end, they know when it comes down to it, they can rely on each other when it comes to you.

Kni

I'm not much into Kni, but I'll do my best

Doesn't like when you call him Knives. Everyone else has to, but you? NO. Kni is Kni is Kni, not Knives or Millions or psycho or anything else.

You get free reign of the entire complex. Ultimate security clearance.

Everyone knows not to step on your toes or Kni will see to it they aren't a problem for you anymore.

One time, you get roughed up by some underling and end up flat on your stomach on the ground. You try to get up, to fight back, but suddenly several bladed whips have dug into the ground around you, caging you in and protecting you from harm. You look over your shoulder to see Kni, positively bristling with anger.

Loves to run his knife-whip-things over your body. He'd never hurt you with them, he just likes touching you; using his own hands and arms feels too human.

Yeah. That's what I got. Hope you like!

#trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede #not really yandere #protective vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #io has ideas #io answers

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

Text

Safe Zone | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw / Jake Seresin x Reader AU

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Synopsis: A team of elite naval aviators holding down the fort at the North Island Air Base while they wait for reinforcements after a virus sweeps the continental U.S. - only, it’s been three months and no one has shown up.

Warnings: throughout the fic - gore, death, violence and pretty graphic mentions of all things zombie related, love triangle, smut (18+, minors dni), angst etc. No specific warnings for this chapter other than someone briefly being threatened with a knife

…

Javy’s supposed to have a gun on him at all times now. All of them are. Any time they leave their rooms, they should have a loaded weapon with them at all times. But he’s just going to take a piss.

It’s three in the morning, according to his watch, and he’s almost done with the night watch. He sighs softly to himself, rolling his shoulders back and craning his neck side to side. The days are long but Coyote swears that these night shifts are getting longer and longer.

He and Jake are posted by the warehouse. Used to be for everything for the planes, now all of that stuff is in the empty buildings and all of the supplies are kept here. Well - most of them are.

It works kind of like a commissary. You show up during the day, tell the people staffing it for the day what you need, they’ll let you know if you can have it or not.

Food’s kept elsewhere. There’s another shift to watch that. More at each point of the island. He’s pretty sure it’s Bob and Phoenix’s night to man the control tower. That’s an easy job, but it always makes Coyote feel a little sick. Seeing the skies so empty now.

Reminds him of what the world is now.

It’s easy to forget on a day to day basis. Sure, he does the perimeter every day just like everyone else, he clears the fences and moves the bodies - but it’s still a heavy feeling to look at the radar and just see nothing. To know that there is nothing coming again that day.

Being posted at the warehouse is Coyote’s least favorite role. He’d truly rather be posted by the fence than here. It’s out in the open, and always cold in the middle of the nights, and there is never anything interesting.

So far, of the maybe two thousand people on the base, none of them have been stupid enough to try to steal. They’re grateful for the protection they receive.

He walks around the side of the building and unzips his pants, leaning his head to look back at the sky. It’s only been a couple of months, but he didn’t ever seen this many stars in the sky over North Island before the world fell apart.

It takes a second, but then he’s peeing. He glances around him at the now empty runway.

What happens next is a blur. His face hits the metal first, before he even has time to register the palms pressing into his back, throwing him forwards. Now, he’s in a difficult situation, because he’s still pissing.

He tries to turn his head, grunting as his temple is pressed into cold metal sheeting. He can’t see his attacker, or hear them. He has no idea if it’s infected or not.

Jake’s right around the corner. Javy should yell, but he freezes up.

Then, a foot presses into the back of his kneecap, kicking hard and bringing him to his knees. He cries out in pain, trying to tuck himself back into his pants with one hand, throwing his elbow back with his free arm.

It connects with something, Coyote hears a crunch and knows it was a nose. That’s good, because if there’s cartilage still to break then that means whatever’s behind him isn’t decayed. The smell alone tells him he’s dealing with the living - he can smell the dead from a mile away in this summer’s heat.

He tries to stand up, having startled his attacker. There’s a swift, firm kick to his ribs and Coyote’s on his front and there’s a boot between his shoulder blades. He feels cold metal touch the side of his neck.

“Scream and I swear to god, I’ll kill you.”

His brows furrow. It’s not a man’s voice. He pushes against the pressure on his back but relents as the boot moves to rest firmly against his shoulder. In about the right spot to break it. He stills.

His attacker leans down and reaches into his left pocket. They unclasp his keys from the fob and take them expertly. Coyote swallows, he’s going to be in so much shit for this.

“Now close your eyes and beg me not to hurt you.”

“What? - Fuck you.” Coyote answers, face pressed into the cold tarmac.

“Do it.” His attacker applies pressure to the back of his shoulder and Javy damn near whimpers. They take their foot away. “Now.”

Javy closes his eyes and swallows. He’s always been good at following orders, there isn’t much point in switching up now. He goes on for a while.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

His head shoots up and he’s looking at Jake. He leaps up and looks around him. “I was just — there was just- fuck!”

Coyote takes off running, unsure how much of a head start he has just given his attacker. Jake’s brows furrow, he takes off after his colleague. They round to the front of the warehouse. Javy’s keys are placed neatly in front of the door, on top of a piece of paper.

Jake checks around. Whoever it was is long gone. He crouches down and grabs Coyote’s keys and the paper. They both frown as Jake turns the paper over.

Thanks, got what I needed - sorry for making you piss on yourself. Signed with a small heart under the message.

Jake, still crouched, turns slightly and finds himself eye-line with the unmistakable wet droplets on Coyote’s pants. He groans and stands up, shaking his head.

“What the fuck happened?” Jake frowns.

“I have no idea, one minute I’m taking a piss and the next thing I know someone’s got their foot on my back and a knife to my neck.”

“They had a knife?” Jake raises his eyebrows. Civilians aren’t allowed weapons, but this could have easily been a kitchen knife. He looks down at the spots of blood on the scrap of paper in his hand. “Is that what this is?”

“Not from the knife, no — I think I broke their nose.” Coyote explains.

Jake hums, slipping the walkie-talkie from his belt, “Well, that’ll make them easier to find, so at least you did something right.” Coyote frowns at the insult. Jake presses the button in on the walkie.

“This is Hangman over by the warehouse, we just had an attack - no injuries, likely to have been a civilian. We’re gonna figure out what they took and we’ll get back to y’all. Over.”

He sets it back on his belt and unlocks the door, shooting an unamused look at his best friend, “Can’t believe you were on the ground crying like that, man.”

“I wasn’t crying.” Coyote bites back, his ego fatally wounded as he follows Jake inside.

It takes a while to pass through all of the stock and figure out what’s missing. Two weeks worth of antibiotics. That narrows it down even more, which is good. In the morning, they’re looking for someone with a broken nose and a fever - or someone that they love that has a fever.

At shift change, Coyote’s ordered to Admiral Cain’s office to learn a thing or two about keeping an eye out for himself. Jake should be headed to bed, or to eat, but he catches up with the morning crew to make sure they know what they’re looking for.

They know - of course, but Jake knows that if you want a job done right, you should probably just let him do it. This type of thing is becoming more frequent.

There are six buildings in action at the moment, each one can hold around six hundred, with families sharing rooms. It’s not built for that many people, but they make do - better off here than out there.

Each time there is an incident, the civilians are told to line up outside of the buildings and present their ID cards. It works the same when they visit the warehouse, the same when they visit the food hall. They’re checked in on arrival, spend three days in quarantine and then get assigned a room. The system works so far.

“I already talked to everyone in that line.” Rooster taps Jake’s shoulder as Jake looks over the left side line. It’s early and most people are still in their pajamas, yawning and talking amongst themselves.

“No harm in double checking.” Jake shrugs.

Rooster leaves him to it and moves on to the next line.

Jake walks along the line, making polite conversation with anyone that looks a little too warm. Nothing. He continues along, talking to the people lined up at the next line.

He comes across a small, older looking woman. She’s one of the only ones dressed for the day already, and it’s clear that she has put some effort into her looks. Jake knows what someone who slept with rollers in looks like. She’s wearing a little bit of make up, which surprises him.

It almost makes him smile - he wonders how insane someone has to be to grab their makeup bag when they’re being told to evacuate the city and move to their nearest safe zone.

But it’s clear to Jake why she’s wearing make-up. She’s sick. A definite fever. He can tell just from looking at her, it’s too early in the morning for the heat to be hitting her like it is. Just from looking at her, Jake also knows what the fever is from.

There’s a big bandage on her forearm. It’s an infirmary bandage so Jake knows it’s not a bite under there - she probably caught it on one of the pieces of jagged metal around base and is fighting off a nasty infection. Some antibiotics would clear it right up.

Something in the way she smiles sweetly and makes polite small talk with Jake tells him that she isn’t the one who apologized for making Coyote piss on himself with a cute little love heart.

Jake turns his attention to the person beside her. You look at the ground quickly. Jake looks between you and her, then follows your gaze down to the ground. His eyes land on the spec of blood on the toe of your converse.

Coyote definitely said it was a boot. But he also said he was attacked by a man. Jake stares at the blood on your shoe, then at the way your head hangs. He does the math in his head. Yeah, it’s about the right angle - that’s about where the blood would drop if you had gotten a nose bleed.

“I’m Jake.”

You look up and find Jake staring right at you, smiling politely. His hand is extended, he’s waiting patiently for you to shake it. Jake notices you’re wearing makeup too. Just a little, concealer around your eyes. Probably to cover up the dark circles that usually accompany a broken nose.

You reach out and slip your palm into his, introducing yourself calmly. A little too calmly, considering Jake knows what you did already.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” Jake looks up.

You look up too, squinting at the sun. Jake catches sight of the dried blood at the edge of your nostril, something you had missed. He looks back down at the blood on your shoe. You look down with him and realize what he knows. His green eyes are back on you in an instant.

“It was nice to meet you. Y’all stay safe.” He smiles calmly. Your brows scrunch just slightly, frozen in place as he turns and continues down the line. He continues to make the same conversation, ask the same questions. Like he didn’t already stand face to face with the culprit.

You stare after him, letting out a soft breath of relief.

“So, did anyone stand out to you?” Bradley checks with Jake, scratching the back of his neck as he finishes up with his questions. Jake shakes his head.

“Nope, did you?” Jake asks.

“Did Coyote say it was definitely a guy that attacked him?” Rooster frowns just a little, adjusting his sunglasses. Jake watches him glance in the direction of your line.

“Yeah, it was definitely a guy.” Jake answers.

“Then no. Guy over there has a broken nose but it doesn’t look recent, looks a week or so old.” Rooster answers him. Jake shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” He says calmly. “Anyway, I’m gonna head to bed. See you.”

“See you.” Bradley agrees, waving Jake off and turning around to pull together his staff. Each time you work a day shift, you’re in a team. Rooster’s in charge of group Alpha, it’s his job to make sure they’re on task and doing a good job.

“Alright, the perimeter crew said things are good there today, so we aren’t needed out there. Does everyone know what they’re supposed to be doing?” He’s met with unenthusiastic agreement, but he doesn’t care much. “Fantastic. I’ll be in the hall, make sure your radios are on channel six.”

They nod and dissipate.

Rooster takes his sunglasses off as he walks into the hall, stretching his arms up and resting his hands on the top of the door frame. He sighs, then walks in. He shouldn’t say that things are getting boring, he should be grateful that things have been quiet the past few days.

He’s mad that he slept through Coyote getting attacked by a girl and pissing on himself. A man - Bradley had almost scoffed. They had all seen that note. She might as well have sprayed it with her perfume.

Rooster walks around behind the breakfast counter and grabs the checklist, flicking through what needs to be restocked in the kitchen after this morning’s service. He sits back against the shelving unit and watches quietly as plates are filled before him.

He turns his head and finds you in the line. His lips quirk slightly as he tucks the arm of his sunglasses into the collar of his black t-shirt, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at you.

He isn’t angry. The Admirals are. Admiral Cain was bright red and swearing into a radio when Rooster had passed him this morning. Admiral Simpson is outside right now, pinching the bridge of his nose and smoking a cigarette. The system is in place for a reason and petty theft makes a mockery of the whole thing. They want to make an example of whoever took the meds.

Rooster understands their reasoning. At a base level, he almost agrees with it. But he knows that if his Mom was sick, he would have taken the meds too. Plus, Rooster thinks that the note was a pretty funny touch.

You’re talking to a boy at your side. He’s much taller than you and skinny, wearing a t-shirt that looks two sizes too big. He’s lanky, but still handsome. The two of you look alike. Rooster can tell just by looking that you’re the boy’s older sister. The woman on the other side of your brother must be your mom.

“Hey, I’ve got this - could you go check everyone’s doing okay at their tables?” Rooster steps forwards, taking the spatula and nudging one of his ensigns out of the way. They frown at him but do as they’re told.

You move along the line until you’re standing before him.

His intention is to introduce himself to you. To apologize for asking you so many questions earlier, but he doesn’t. He stares into your eyes and smiles softly as you end up passing by before he has spoken.

Rooster looks down and takes a look at your ID. He’ll be able to remember that name, and the room number. He makes a mental note.

He watches your brother chuckling at your side as your family walk away to find somewhere to sit.

You got away with it. You’re still thinking it over when you get back to your room, a shared one bedroom suite with your mom and Luke. You and your mother have the bedroom, Luke sleeps on the pullout bed in the living room. It’s not as comfy as home - but it’s better than out there.

The Lieutenant with the green eyes was on watch last night too. You had seen him when you were scoping out the area. It could have just as easily been him that you assaulted, if he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You know that he knew what you had done, and yet, he didn’t say anything.

You know that the Admirals are practically out for blood, they’re so angry - and yet, Jake let you go.

“What’s this?” Your mother crouches in front of the door to the room.

You take the item from her and look it over. It’s a piece of paper wrapped around a small container with seven pills inside. You unfold the piece of paper to examine it.

Anti-nausea meds. Once every other day, it’ll help with the antibiotics. Next time, asking also works. Rooster. Signed with a small heart beside his name.

You know who he is, you’ve seen him around base a lot, he’s constantly working during the day. The old woman in the room next door adores him.

Luke takes the paper from you and reads it, laughing before he continues into the room after your mother. “Hey mom, one of the navy guys has a crush on-“

You groan, “Shut up, Luke.”

…

Tagging:

@momc95 @shawnsblue @thedroneranger

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin #jake seresin au #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw au #top gun #top gun: maverick

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blueberry-ovaries · 5 months

Text

PROLOGUE: THE STORY OF WINIFRED HAYES

A/N: Welcome to the first official chapter of Hiraeth! Please enjoy and feel free to leave comments or questions! If you would like to be tagged in the chapters please let me know!

Content warnings: none

chapter one

When the whispers of war reached her home, Winifred Hayes was just fourteen, a high school student terrified of the looming violence that would hold the men of her home captive. She knew the phenomenon of proving strength and bravery would take prisoner the young minds of boys pretending to be men. Boys playing dress up in a soldiers uniform.

November 1940, the Australian army starts conscription into the war. All able bodied men between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five were to join the ranks of the ANZACs. A man from each family to fight with bravery and strength. To bring pride to their families and their nation.

George Hayes, her father, a retired Great War Vet who knew the horrors of war greater than most. On the front lines in Gallipoli, he knew how to fight a hard battle, and to go down swinging. Winnie knew in her heart the if he were to take the call, he wouldn’t come home. His kneecap, shattered by a stray bullet on the sandy hills of the Turkish beaches. His limp a constant reminder to the people, of his sacrifice. To him, it was more than a constant twinge, instead a nagging reminder of his survival. That he was alive, and his friends, his brothers, lay nameless in the sand, forgotten by the progress of time, rotting corpses of failed advancements. Now, he works tirelessly on the family farm, milking cows, cutting wheat. Supplying the family bakery on main street.

Winnie always knew what she thought was right and wrong. In school, she knew that words were not always satisfactory in resolution, that sometimes bloody knuckles and split lips were necessary. After one too many call home letters, her father decided, if she was going to fight, she may as well do it properly. To throw a punch, to fight to win. Fighting to win meant, doing anything she had to, pulling hair, biting skin, Winnie would do what was necessary, no one made fun of her family.

With her older brother unable to fight and her father not likely to come home, Winnie knew.

As she raised the scissors to cut her hair, and stole her brothers name, Winnie knew it was right. She tries not to imagine the tears staining her mother’s cheek when she realises her daughter had signed her own death. She tries not to imagine the fear that wracks through her parents bodies. Her father’s shame for not fighting, instead is daughter, taking his conscription letter, and forcing herself into the role of her brother.

Her parents wake up the next morning, one less child and a fear that if the germans or the japanese didn’t kill her, the army will.

Winnie knew. Her death was sealed if anyone found out who she was. If they found out she was Winifred and not Charles. Still, with her bag slung over her shoulder and her brothers cap slapped atop her shakily cut hair, she took the call

————

TAG LIST: @malarkgirlypop @mads-weasley @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @grumpy-liebgott @executethyself35

#hiraeth #blue *• hiraeth #hiraethOC #hiraeth fic #winnie hayes oc #winnie hayes #band of brothers #babe heffron #bandofbrothers #ronald speirs #dick winters #hbowar #george luz #donald malarkey #eugene roe #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfiction #hbo war fic

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burnthatbridge · 21 days

Text

illicit affairs

buddie | E | chapter 6 of 10 | 8k (of 43k and counting) | just a boy helping his boy bestie figure out gay sex, with a side of infidelity In the end, Buck almost renders all Eddie's preparation for naught.

Chapter 6: you showed me colors you know i can't see with anyone else

He and Buck plan for– it to take place that week, in advance of Buck’s fourth date with Marcus. They schedule it for a day off, a weekday where they’ve been off shift for at least twelve hours, have managed a full night’s sleep in their own beds, well-rested. Theoretically, at least. Eddie takes a long time to drift off after getting home from the station and spending some time with Chris. He’d been relaxed on the couch watching cartoons with his son at his side, but as soon as he’s in bed alone all he can think of is being in Buck’s bed, and very much not alone.

In the morning, he takes Christopher to school and then drives over to Buck’s. He’d wanted Buck to come to his, to be at home with him while they did this, but he had no reason for the bizarre preference, so he hadn’t argued when they’d discussed it and Buck had said he should come to the loft.

He parks up outside and sits in his truck for an extra minute or two, obstinately debating taking in the backpack he brought, the one he shoved the tube of lube and box of condoms into. But Buck will no doubt have supplies of his own so, really, he’s taking a moment to breathe. Once he and Buck start, getting enough air is going to be as difficult as it is in a room full of smoke.

Leaving the bag behind, Eddie exits the car and heads up to Buck’s apartment. He hesitates outside the door. He’s got a key; has had one for years. Buck knows he’s coming and, even if he didn’t, Eddie doesn’t normally knock. This feels like it might call for knocking. But that would mean something is different here, when it’s not. This is just Eddie helping Buck out, no different from coming over to make sure he’s bothering to ice a black eye or to assist in setting up the Ikea couch he finally caved and ordered after the last one got blood and amniotic fluid all over it.

Eddie slides his key into the lock, turns it, and pushes the door open, steps through.

“Eddie?” Buck appears at the top of the stairs, practically trips down them, two at a time.

Hey, Eddie means to say, to greet him, but the word gets stuck. Buck looks– He’s clearly freshly showered, face flushed pink from the steamy heat and hair damp-darkened, starting to curl as it dries, loose and product-free. He’s wearing grey cut-off shorts, the little frayed strings at the end of each leg brushing against his kneecaps, and an old, threadbare white t-shirt, so worn thin it’s practically translucent. Eddie’s seen him like this before, has perhaps seen him in exactly this outfit, in this precise same state, so it shouldn’t leave him speechless, shouldn’t steal his words. But Buck looks– Buck looks like Eddie could reach out and touch, take. Eddie is going to do that.

read chapter 6 on ao3 or start at chapter 1

#beware: here lies smut #infidelity fic #buddie #buddie fic #911 #911 abc #911 fic #buddie fanfic #911 fanfic #myfic

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lovelynim · 8 months

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TickleTober2023/Day 06 - Movie

Sasaki to Miyano - Sasaki x Miyano

With scene after scene unfolding on the screen before them, it would be hard to notice anything regarding their surroundings. Yet, just like he always did, Sasaki was way more focused on something else other than the movie or, better saying, someone else other than the movie.

Gently moving his hand closer to his boyfriend, Sasaki lightly tapped Miyano’s knee with his finger. The ravenhead jolted in his place, making the other chuckle quietly under his breath. “Miya-chan… are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?”

“Mhm,” Miyano answered promptly, nodding and holding the blanket closer to his chest. “I just got a little distracted,” he continued, pretending to take his eyes back to the movie. It didn’t take long, however, for Miyano to start dozing off again.

Adorable, Sasaki thought, admiring the little head tilts as his lover battled the urge to sleep. His eyelids seemed to be so heavy that he could barely keep them awake for long… As much as he would love to watch those small struggles a bit longer, he knew it wouldn’t do Miyano any good to sleep on the couch like that, so it was time for him to do something about it.

“Miyan-chan ~ you are sleeping again,” Sasaki mused, resting his palm over Miyano’s legs, looking at him with the corner of his eyes. “It’s time for you to go to bed, Miya-chan,” he continued, lightly squeezing Miyano’s kneecap.

The ravenhead let out a loud, surprised squeal. Shaking his head and rapidly blinking a few times, realized what happened. Feeling his cheeks getting warmer, he shyly hid behind the blanket. “...I want to finish the movie, Sasaki-senpai,” he muttered, making the older guy raise his eyebrow.

“You can finish the movie later, you should go to bed now.”

Miyano remained quiet, but it was clear he wasn’t going to obey Sasaki just like that. He sighed, shaking his head. “Fine, Miya-chan,” he chuckled, squeezing his knee again, getting the most adorable reaction he could from his boyfriend.

“S-Sasahahaki! No tihihickling!” Miyano protested, giggling from underneath the blanket as he squeezed his eyes shut. Sasaki’s fingers, in the meantime, continued to squeeze the rather sensitive spot, curiously scratching behind it as well, teasingly testing Miyano’s sensitivity.

Hearing his boyfriend’s carefree laughter, it didn’t take Sasaki long before he was laughing along with him. “Then how about we go to bed, hm?”

“I dohohon’t w-want tohoho!” Miyano chirped, trying to recoil his legs and take them away from Sasaki’s reach, only to realize his mistake seconds later: with his knees away from his boyfriend’s hands, he ended up resting his feet on Sasaki’s lap - an opening that, of course, didn’t go unnoticed. “W-wahait, Sasaki! NononahAHA!”

Miyano’s laughter rose a pitch when restless fingers scribbled over his socked sole, assaulting his ticklish arch and heel. While one hand occupied itself tickling his boyfriend’s foot, Sasaki made sure to keep a firm grip around Miyano’s ankle, granting it wasn’t going anywhere.

“So? Did you change your mind, Miya-chan?” Sasaki mused, his words barely audible over the loud giggles.

Miyano’s free foot kicked in a futile attempt to free its pair, which was suffering a severe - and ticklish - punishment. The ravenhead threw his head back in a renewed stream of laughter. “F-fihihine! AHAHahah, leheEHEhet me gohOHo!”

Sasaki hummed pleased, sliding his index one last time from the bottom of Miyano’s heel up to his toes, making his sole curl in response. “Good, I was getting a little tired myself ~”

“Y-you are so mean, Sasaki-senpai…” Miyano gasped, not waiting a single second before pulling his legs away from the other. The movie was already long forgotten when the couple started leaving the room, getting themselves ready to sleep. After all, what was the harm in finishing it later when they would have plenty of time to spend together?

A/N: I feel like there couldn't be a better timing to post this, ehehe. Such a lovely couple, I adore my babies so much wahhh

Hope you guys liked this one as well and see you next day!

#miya&mia's tickletober #tickletober2023 #sasaki to miyano #sasaki shuumei #miyano yoshikazu #sasamiya #sasaki x miyano #ler!sasaki #lee!miyano #ticklish!miyano #tickle fic

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izznts · 1 year

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Double Trouble

I do NOT own the OC Daniel; goes rightfully to the owner @naughtyservant

Daniel got out of bed, burping up a skull head from his late night snack. Grinning he poked at his small belly fat that laid above his groin slightly.

"Man waking up with silence is the best feeling ever!" He cheered, getting out of bed. Walking to the closet full of other skulls and ripped clothes, victims that met their demise, he got on a spike vest, ripped jeans and tennis shoes and walked out. Rubbing his small belly fat consciously, he walked into a Cafe spot for coffee.

Grabbing a regular coffee, he sat down near the window. His little belly poked out of his spike vest, it made him look pregnant. Idly playing with his belly, his belly growled once he made contact with a guy walking into the alleyway. Looked average height, wore baggy clothes. Daniel smirked and got out of his seat, walking towards the alleyway that he met his next filling meal in.

The complete stranger walking deeper into the alleyway looking for something in the trashcans around him. Looking up, he noticed Daniel, the man held up a knife to use as a defense weapon. Daniel walking slowly at him, licking his lips.

"I do love food that likes to fight back, too bad it won't be on the outside~" Daniel teased, charging fast at the man, knocking him on the floor. The man dropped his knife, trying to crawl to it. Daniel put his foot over the man's hand, causing the man to squeak fearfully. Daniel leaning down at the man, staring into the eyes of him. The man shaking, almost wanting to say a word until Daniel's maw open widely, engulfing the man's head.

The man started to punch the air, screaming in Daniel's mouth. Daniel grabbing the man's body and standing up, swallowing the man. His pleads for help could be felt inside of him. Daniel taking in another gulp, the man's lower torso was still out. His now small belly, started to swell with his prey. Taking in another swallow, his legs from his kneecap up to his feet were still out of Daniel's mouth. Daniel chuckled, licking around the legs before letting gravity take the rest of the weight down his throat. Daniel tilted his head back and slowly the rest of the man fell into his belly. Daniel's belly rounding out several feet, squirming violently. Pleads for help, bulges of hands and feet imprints could be seen. Daniel laughed, smacking his belly a couple times to bother his prey.

BURRRRRRRRRRRRRP

Daniel wiped his lips and laid on the alley-way walls, feeling the squirms of the poor dude. Smirking he moved his body having his belly lean on the wall, squishing his belly into the wall.

"Yeah you fucker, beg!" He demanded, belching up a hat. He grabbed his sides of his belly and shaked arousingly. Muffled pleads and sloshes of digestive juices could be heard, making him smirk ever so proudly.

Laughing to himself he heard sounds of shoes coming by, looking at the guy, short and petite. He wore nothing but a matching blazer set, maroon turtleneck and black pointed loafers. The stranger looked up in shock and noticed the situation he put himself in.

Daniel sprinting at him full speed, grabbing his head and squishing him in between the walls and his belly he curiously eyed the fellow.

"Look I'm sorry for interrupting, my GPS was taking me here!" The stranger spoke, Daniel let go of him but still kept him in between his belly.

"Well if that was the case why didn't you pay attention to the area dumbass?" Daniel questioned annoyingly, the stranger looked in disbelief, trying to pry himself free, causing Daniel to belch in his face. Drool coming out of Daniel's mouth with a sly-drunken grin.

"That's gross..." The stranger admitted, Daniel smirked grabbing the strangers hands and letting it rest on his belly.

"Well in that case, I have no choice but to put you into your new home." Daniel stated opening his maw, engulfing the strangers head, before the stranger could be swallowed, he tried to rub over Daniel's stomach. Daniel moaned while having the stranger in his mouth, before grabbing him and letting him out of his mouth. The stranger in front of him, looked at him wide-eyed, and in his saliva. The stranger continued to rub over the huge dome in front of him, and slowly rubbed the sides, Daniel moaning of approval from the delicate touch.

"Atta boy, that's the smart move.~" Daniel teased, squishing the stranger, his prey squirm harder. A face print could be seen above the top of his stomach, Daniel smacking it back into place aggressively.

"Nuh uh uh, you are never coming out.~" Daniel playfully teased, he got off of the stranger and lifted his belly up, letting it go. It swayed side to side before it stayed in its still place. He noticed the strangers name tag on the blazer. Izzy is what he have read.

"So Izzy, do you live nearby? Let me chill and digest this meal." He demanded, Izzy was about to refuse until he remembered the situation he was in, he nodded and lead the way to the house. The house being modern, 3 stories high and marbled. Daniel stared in awh, still following Izzy to the doors. Izzy opened the door and let Daniel in first.

"So, this is where you live? Is it just you?" Daniel asked, sitting down on the couch, his belly squirming in his lap. Daniel rubbing over his belly, making himself burp a couple times.

"No, not just me, my boyfriend lives here, he's also a pred like yourself." Izzy stated bluntly, Daniel nodded.

"So, curiously speaking, is he a new pred or?" Daniel asked rubbing his belly to soothe the pressure, Izzy shook his head.

"No, he's not new, he likes to come home every now and then with a gut with a person or 2." Izzy stated, eyeing Daniel up and down. Daniel motioned him to sit down, Izzy had no other choice. He came and sat next to him and moments later Daniel got up, lifted his belly and laid it on top of Izzy. Daniel grinned and grinded his belly on top of him. The sound of the door and a familiar voice to Izzy came into view.

"Hey babe, sorry for being late, I caught a little snack and he is not settling down!" Izzy's lover Kevin yelled. Kevin walked in pridefully, a smirk on his face which turned to an instant frown seeing Izzy pinned on the couch by Daniel. Daniel smirked and squished Izzy more with his gut, belching up a pair of socks from the weight.

"Dude, you're jacked! If you weren't his boyfriend I would've gobbled you up myself~" Daniel teased, Kevin sneered crossing his arms. His belly squirming violently causing him to smack it, belching up a cap.

"Izzy who is this? Why is he here?" Kevin questioned annoyingly, Izzy softly rubbed Daniel's gut, signaling Daniel to let him speak. Daniel getting his belly off of him and sitting down next to him, arms crossed behind his head.

"This is Daniel, Daniel this is Kevin, my boyfriend." Izzy stated, getting up to kiss Kevin on the cheek. Kevin holding Izzy close, Daniel nodded taking in the small information.

"So, you're a pred too?" Daniel asked, Kevin nodded walking up to Daniel.

"I'm guessing you're here to stay for... protecting Izzy?" Kevin questioned, Daniel shook his head, poking Kevin's bellybutton.

"Nah, I actually came here to teach you a big ol lesson, I am here to make you extremely big!" Daniel cheered, Kevin looked at Izzy confusingly who shyly rubbed Kevin's gut trying not to explain himself.

"Izzy, what does he mean?" Kevin asked, Izzy sighed to himself explaining.

"He's going to teach you how to go above your max capacity, so that you can build more muscle and be the strongest pred alongside Daniel." Izzy stated, Kevin eyed Daniel who smirked.

"Well, do you want to be strong like me? We can be the top Preds in the universe dude!" Daniel cheered, shaking his belly in his hands. Kevin turned to Izzy and looked deeply in his eyes, Izzy nodding in approval.

"Well... looks like I have some lessons to be taught Dabiel. What's first?" Kevin asked, holding Izzy's hand, Daniel smirking.

"Well for starters, how big can your belly get?" Daniel asked Kevin, walking up to him and poking at it, Kevin swatting his hand growling.

"I don't measure, I eat what I eat." Kevin stated, Izzy coming up and rubbing both Daniel's and Kevin's belly for a mere second. Daniel and Kevin looked down and smirked.

"So your boyfriend is the measurement guy is he?" Daniel asked, Kevin slightly blushed nodding. Izzy blushed from embarrassment and stopped, stepping back and pointing at Daniel.

"Daniel's belly is bigger, for the moment at least." Izzy stated, Daniel smacked his gut and winked pridefully.

"Well, the course of knowing your limit is testing out of it. We will hunt tonight and we will see who can get the biggest gut." Daniel competed, Kevin smirked and had his hand out, Daniel smirking along and shaking it.

"I am so going to enjoy this!" Kevin pointed out, belching in front of Daniel. Daniel smiling and agreeing with him, he grabbed Izzy and placed him in between his belly and Kevin's.

"I think the only one who will love this most is your little boyfriend here. Strong men with huge appetites must be his kink~" Daniel stated, pushing Izzy more into Kevin, causing both men to belch loudly that a vase fell over.

BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP

"He does have a soft spot for some belly fat, he never would let my gut go.~" Kevin teased, kissing the top of Izzy's hand.

"You both are annoying..." Izzy stated, blushing madly. Daniel got off and sat down on the sofa.

"Kevin, let's digest and we will start first thing tonight, do not be late." Daniel stated, slowly putting himself to sleep. Kevin nodded and kissed Izzy on the lips, heading to his room. Izzy staying in the room, confused and processing all that has happened, before gushing to himself.

"Wow, I can't believe this is my life now, awesome!" Izzy cheered, heading to the room with Kevin. Daniel smirked after hearing the little cheer.

"Well Izzy, you are in for a show~" He whispered to himself. His prey squirming every now and then in his belly. Closing his eyes and letting his body do all the work. Ready for their first hunt for the night.~

#male pred #gay vore #m/m vore #male vore #vore story #implied digestion #oral vore

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michelleleewise · 2 years

Text

The Proposal

Pairing: Sugardaddy Loki x female reader

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, knives, blood, violence (yes I added it twice to he sure), duct tape, forced restraints, torture, Amber being a whole warning....(I tried not to go too overboard, but this girl crazy)

*** please read the warnings for this one!!! Amber has gone full tilt crazy. I don't want to upset anyone so please please be cautious!!!

Summary: you wake up not knowing where you are, and try to piece everything together....

Part Seventeen-

You slowly opened your eyes, looking up you could barely make anything out when the lights flipped on making you flinch. "Ah, your finally awake, I may have added too much." You heard Amber laughing. You tried to turn realizing you couldn't move. You looked down seeing duct tape wrapped around your stomach and legs, your arms held down to your sides. You frantically looked around at the decrepit building trying to process what was happening as Amber stepped in front of you.

"To think he chose you over me." She said looking down at you. You tried to say something realizing she had taped your mouth as well. "You aren't going anywhere so stop trying." She said walking over to a table picking up your phone and a knife. "Now, down to business." She said striding back over. "Im gonna need to know your password." She said ripping the tape off of your mouth making you scream. "Help! Someone help me!" You screamed when Amber punched your nose hard whipping your head to the side. "Shut up will you, no one can hear you. There's no one for miles." She smiled leaning down "password...now." she growled.

You gave her the password tasting the blood running from your nose watching her go through your phone. "Aaww, he's worried about you.....how sweet." She said through gritted teeth as she typed something before putting it in her pocket. "Now, where were we....oh yes...." She said taking the knife pressing it to your cheek "I must admit you are kinda pretty, but let's see if he still wants you when I'm done...." She smiled, pressing the knife into your skin making you scream. She repeated it onto the other cheek and your forehead as you tried to pull your head away. She tossed the knife aside happy with her work laughing menacingly.

"Your fucking crazy!" You yelled trying to free yourself "am i...AM I!?" She yelled picking up a crowbar from the table. "All I did was love him, AND HE LEFT ME!" She yelled slowly walking over to you. "And then you came along and ruined everything!" She yelled again pressing the crowbar into your chest. "You took him from me, and I'm taking back what's mine." She smiled lifting the bar up. You closed your eyes bracing yourself for what was about to happen as she brought it down hard on the side of your knee making you scream. "Do you think he'll come for you?" She asked swinging again "fuck!" You screamed feeling lightheaded "do you really belive he CARES about you?" She said hitting your kneecap hearing a crunch.

Tears streamed down your face as your whole body shook, the pain overwhelming you. "You...mean...nothing...to...him." She growled raising the bar above her head "p...please....s...stop." you tried, your voice weak from the screaming. "I won't stop until he's mine again" She said smiling bringing the bar down on top of your knee. Pain shot through your leg as you blacked out......

"Don't worry baby, I'm fine."....Loki reread the message over and over...something wasn't right, you never called him "baby". He thought for a moment before deciding to respond "darling, what was your favorite color again? I wanted to pick something up for you" He typed, patiently waiting for you to respond. He needed to know what was going on. When he saw the bubbles pop up showing you were typing he leaned forward staring at the screen "you know what my favorite color is silly." You typed. He sighed trying again "I just want to make sure, now what was it? He typed tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Your so forgetful sometimes....blue." you typed as he gripped the phone.

He looked at the clock seeing you should be home from school by now and jumped up grabbing his coat. He stormed out if his room heading for the elevator "brother, where are you off to in such a hurry?" Thor asked as Loki pushed the button for the elevator. "Something is wrong with her, I need to go over there." He said looking at the doors. "Is she hurt?" Thor asked coming up next to him. "I do not know, her messages don't make sense." He said looking at Thor. "Call me if you need me." Thor said gripping Loki's shoulder. "Thank you brother." Loki said stepping into the elevator. He hoped you were just messing around but he had a feeling things were not as they seemed.

Loki walked into your darkened apartment looking around "y/n, where are you?" He called recieving only silence. He switched on the lights seeing everything looked normal, nothing was out of place. He walked into the bedroom "Darling, are you..." he started seeing the bed was made but your closet looked like a bomb went off. He slowly walked in seeing all of your clothes strewn across the floor like you were searching for something. The bad feeling began nagging him again so he pulled his phone out messaging you. "darling,, where are you." He typed waiting for you to respond. He walked into the bathroom seeing everything in order there as well.

He jumped slightly when his phone went off, quickly pulling it out "Hey, I was in bed sleeping. Where are you?" He read. He felt the color leave his face knowing you were no where to be found. He swallowed hard typing back "I'm coming over, I need to see you." He was hoping whoever this was would give themselves away somehow. "I'm too tired, maybe tomorrow. Night baby." He read. "No no no.." he said quickly dialing your number hoping it was your voice on the other end and you were just upset with him. He held the phone to his ear listening as the call went straight to voicemail "fuck!" He yelled. He hung up quickly dialing Thor. "Loki, is everything alright?" Thor asked when Loki felt a lump in his throat. Looking down at his feet "she's...she isn't here Thor, I don't know where she is or whats happened." Loki said shakely feeling his eyes burn. "Tell me where you are, I'll be right there." Thor said. He told him the address before hanging up, waiting for his brother to get there....

"God, He's gotten persistent." You vaguely heard Amber say from behind you. You slowly lifted your head, trying to block out the pain and failing miserably as she walked into view. You shook your head making sure you weren't seeing things as she turned around. She had cut her hair to your length, as well as coloring it the same color as yours. You looked down seeing her wearing your clothes, though they were a bit tight on her. "W...what...", you trailed off trying to focus when she started laughing again "Well, whatya think?" She asked holding her arms out. "I think your fucking insane." You snarked feeling her fist meet your nose again making your eyes water.

"Shut up you stupid bitch." She growled stalking away. "Loki and I will live happily ever after...and you'll die here alone like you deserve." She said wiping her hand on a cloth. "W..why are you...doing this? I was n..nice to you." You said tilting your head up to look at her "because you took him!" She yelled crossing her arms "h..he already left you...before he m..met me." You said shakely fighting back tears. "Well see, here's the thing. If he didn't want me, and he wants you..what better way to win him back then to become...you." She smiled smoothing down the front of her...your shirt. You screwed your eyes shut feeling the pain radiating through you "he's going to know....h..he will find me." You breathed leaning your head forward. "Oh...he may find you....but in what state?" She asked walking over grabbing your hair pulling your head back.

"Who would want you now hm?" She asked. "No one will ever want you again y/n." She smiled letting go of your hair. "If you know whats good for you you'll hurry up and die." She snarked walking behind you. You were about to say something when she shut the lights off, leaving you in total darkness "night y/n, pleasant dreams" She called out slamming the door. You tried to breath, feeling the tears streaming down your face, landing in your cuts making you hiss. "L..loki....please....." you said shakely trying to stop shaking, but the more you tried the worse it got.

Your chest heaved as you sobbed, leaning your head forward to keep the tears off your face. "P..please...find me..." you cried. But you had no idea where you were and no way to release yourself, even if you did you were pretty sure your kneecap was shattered. You opened your eyes, looking up into the one window you saw, seeing the moon shining in "i..I love you Loki." You whispered. leaning your head forward feeling yourself drift off, hoping he would come to you in your dreams......

💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚

@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @sinsandguilt @high-functioning-lokipath @mochie85 @slytherclaw1227 @jaidenhawke @budugu @xorpsbane @schizonephilim @lokidokieokie @holdmytesseract @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokixryss @asgardianprincess1050 @tallseaweed @aniar4wniak @sekaishell @lokispetblogs @loopsisloops @trojanaurora @lonadane @all-envy-suyu @yelkmelk @stupidthoughtsinwriting @123forgottherest @silverfire475 @bbmommy0902 @goblingirlsarah @commanding-officer @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @mcufan72 @glitterylokislut @tjellisworld @kkdvkyya @cueloki @daggers-and-mischief @sititran @witchyblue @verycollectivecreator @nixymarvelkins @chantsdemarins @shinraski @usagishira @nightshadelm @filthyhiddles @dukes2581 @assemblingavenger @huntress-artemiss @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12

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spotsandsocks · 8 months

Text

The Price of Love (is high) 7k

Written for @911angstinautumn thanks for organising. The amazing cover is by the talented @ronordmann 💕

Written for @911angstinautumn fest. It’s angst but with a happy ending. Buck’s trapped, water rising, no way out, except that’s not quite true, he has an idea on how to get free; he just needs to convince Eddie to do it.

It’s hard to work out what’s happened, or maybe what is happening.

Eddie blinks water out of his eyes and thinks that whatever’s left him wet and confused is still in motion. It’s hard to think for a moment, then the past and present colíde and hit his future with cold dread.

Buck, he was with Buck. Where is he? Moving as fast as he can he sits up, there a splash as his hand hits the water pooling around him, another splash as he stumbles to his feet, head pounding at the change of position but nothing else alarming except for the fact he can’t see Buck, has no idea where he is.

Eddie presses his radio and gets an ominous crackle.

“Cap?” He tries anyway, they were on a call. Warehouse right? No. Factory. Boiler room? Thst sounds familiar. Bobby sent him and Buck down here to check things out.

He blinks furiously to clear the confusion.

“Buck?”

He calls out the name as he pushes his way past the debris that’s scattered everywhere. He’s ankle deep in water. That can’t be good. Tripping on something unseen beneath the surface of the murky liquid he catches himself on the broken concrete and winces as it cuts him. There’s a lot of it around, a wall maybe, or part of the ceiling? Maybe both, it’s a collapse of some kind and there’s still no sign of Buck. Eddie looks at the pile of rubble in front of him and doesn’t let himself think it. He can’t think it. He won’t.

That’s not where Buck is. It’s not.

“Buck! Buck!

Another two wet footsteps take him further forward.

“Buck!?” He can hear the desperation in his own voice. Surely they weren’t that far from each other when whatever happened to them happened.

“Buck!” His voice is a little hoarser from the shouting, the tight concern in his throat makes it ache.

“Eddie?” The weak voice is the most welcome sound he’s heard.

He answers with his friend's name again. Louder this time, desperately trying to locate him, ”Buck? Where are you?”

“On the floor. Over here.” His voice sounds tight; scared or in pain, maybe both.

Eddie’s eyes cast around in the gloom trying to follow the sound of Buck’s voice. A cautious step forward and he sees him, low down on the floor, his face a pale circle in the dim light, the white of his eyes wide. There’s an attempt at a smile on his face or maybe it’s a grimace.

As he splashes closer he decides it’s a grimace and it’s clear why. Eddie’s heart sinks, twisting in panic and despair. This is bad, really bad. For the second time in his life he’s a helpless witness to Buck's pain, fear and panic as he’s trapped, leg pinned down again, it’s even the same damn leg.

Falling to his knees next to Buck the water reaches the middle of his kneecap, it’s rising, lapping against his leg. This is bad, so so bad. Apparently it’s Eddie’s fate to stand by and watch helplessly in situations like this, because he can’t see a way out for them right now.

Without conscious thought he tries his radio again. “Cap? Bobby? We need help. Buck’s trapped.”

As he tries to get them help Buck pushes himself up as far as he can, resting on his elbows, looking down his body at where his foot is trapped. Eddie looks too, tries to approach the problem logically. There are a few superficial cuts and bruises along Buck’s body but nothing else serious by the look of it, just the pinned leg.

Eddie finishes his assessment of the problem with a sick feeling in his stomach, it’s not really a ‘just’ kind of a situation.

“Pretty stuck huh?” Buck’s trying to keep it lighthearted and Eddie doesn’t really appreciate it. The water’s already moved an inch higher.

“Is it broken? Does it hurt?”

Bucks tone deflates, “um I don’t think so, it’s not too bad, not like before.”

“Have you tried to get it out?” It’s a stupid question. He knows that but his brain is feeling slow, all he can see is Buck’s trapped leg and the way the water is rising.

Blue eyes meet his; yes, it’s a stupid question. He looks away again back to the spot Buck's leg disappears.

“You should probably go get help.” This time Buck’s voice is flat, no emotions revealed. “See if you can find a way out.”

Dragging his eyes away from the problem and back to Buck’s pale face he nods. “Yeah, I think so.” Eddie looks around again, eyes scanning for the door they came in through. He’s kind of disoriented.

Buck nods and tries for a smile. “Great, think I’ll just wait here.”

He mostly ignores the flipency but a quiet hiss of irritation slips out anyway, “I won’t be gone long, ok?”

He isn’t actually gone more than a few minutes because apparently there’s no way out.

Head to Ao3 to read the rest….

#buddie #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #angst in autumn #911 fic #buddie fic #911fic #angst with a happy ending #911 fanfiction #eddie x buck #buck x Eddie #911 on fox #911 on abc #evan buck buckley #eddie díaz

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dearestgojo · 2 years

Text

Beneath the Water

Stepbrother Gojo x Stepsister reader

A/n: This my first piece for my Summer Lovin' Collab. I rushed the ending a bit cause I honestly just wanted to be done with this 😅.

Warnings: 18+. Dark Content. Stepcest. Oral Female receiving. Penetration. Slight biting. Creampie. Public. Fingering. Pool sex. Exhibitionism. Dubcon.

Wc: 3.5k

You wake up to the feeling of fingers tickling the inner part of your thigh, the cool air of your bedroom making you painfully aware that your panties had been taken off. Peering below you see your stepbrother staring down between your spread legs, pink tongue running across his bottom lip. Trying to close your legs is proven futile when the same fingers - that had previously run over the back of your thighs - dig into them and force you to stay open.

You mumble out his name, voice still croaking with sleep, “Satoru…what are you doing here?”

Pressing soft-opened mouthed kisses to the back of your kneecap, Satoru smirks at you, blue eyes reflecting the soft morning light that pours through your white curtains, “Waking you up silly, what else?” Satoru continues to kiss along the back of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake and gradually pushing your knees up to your stomach until his warm breath fans over your revealed slick folds.

You push yourself onto your elbows, wriggling your legs in a half-hearted attempt to get free from his grasp, “Okay. I’m awake now. You can stop.”

But your older stepbrother doesn’t let go. Instead, he pulls your legs up, forcing you to fall back onto the bed, your lower back pressed to his stomach and knees resting on his forearms, feet dangling from his shoulders, the small anklet on your left leg catching the sunlight. He clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, kissing your ankle. “But we haven’t seen each other in a while. Don’t you want to have fun like old times?” His tongue slides under the little chain that dangles from your ankle, taking it between his lips to tug at it.

You nibble on your bottom lip while you look up at him, chest swelling with a mixture of need and loathing. You had not seen him since December when you came to visit for Christmas, and you didn't spend much time with him then. You knew that he would eventually creep into your bedroom while you were home for summer break; however, you hadn't expected him to do so early in the morning while your parents were asleep just across the hall. Shaking your head, you reach up with one hand to where he is holding your knee, slipping your fingers beneath his to pry yourself free, “No, this is wrong. Please let me go. Mom and dad are in the other room.”

Satoru’s hold you tightens and he pulls you closer to him, his teeth biting into your soft thigh. “If you're quiet, they won’t hear,” he looks up at you, eyes filled with something you would describe as a predator looking at its prey. “Come on, just say yes. I know you want me as much as I want you. You were practically dripping when I walked in here.”

Digging your nails into the skin of his arm, you look at the door, letting the soft sound of the fan drown out the screams that were telling you that this was highly inappropriate. Swallowing you let your head fall back into the pillows and relax your body, “Okay, but it has to be quick.”

“No promises, angel,” Satoru’s predator smile grows.

Settling back between your open legs, Satoru presses a soft kiss to the space between your thigh and mound before teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your back arches off the bed, eyes pinched shut as you fight to hold in a loud moan that comes out as a puff of air. Satoru’s tongue slides along your folds, the tip circling your opening. You can hear the sound of slurping coming from between your thighs. Satoru’s lips enveloped your clit, gently sucking on it as his fingers prod at your cavern.

The back of your hand slams into your mouth, attempting to block the loud moan you let out when Satoru sinks two fingers into your heat. Satoru does not give you time to accommodate the stretch of his long fingers, tentatively curving them upwards. His blue eyes glance up at you, his boxers growing tighter when he sees your face twisted in pure euphoria that only he can provide you.

He removes his lips from your bud with a pop-like sound reverberating across your childhood bedroom, “See? You wanted this as much as I did; your cunt is squeezing my fingers so hard right now,” he rasps, teeth sinking into your thigh.

Despite your efforts to ignore the repulsion twisting in your stomach, you become very aware of your surroundings. The plushies that your would decoratively place on your bed, stared at you with their bead eyes. Judging you as you lay with your legs tossed over your elder sibling’s shoulders, loud slurping sounds ricocheting off the walls along with your stifled whimpers. The door to your bedroom isn’t closed all the way, the natural light of the living room casting a small golden line along the floor and wall. Your parents could wander in and see the depraved relationship you and Satoru shared at any time. The thought alone made your want to hurl.

Your eyes remain on the door as you orgasm; your legs wrap themselves around Satoru’s shoulders. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him deeper into your pussy. You can feel him laughing against you as you douse his chin in your juices. The vibrations cause you to forget that you must be quiet, “S-Satoru!”

It feels like you never truly stop cumming, body still quivering even after Satoru’s mouth detaches from your cunt. He sits kneeling between your legs, his long fingers shoved into his mouth, licking your slick from them, “Damn, I forgot how divine you taste.”

“Shut up,” you wheeze out, cheeks burning. You finally get a good look at him. His hair is a mess from sleep and your fingers, a cowlick sticking up from his left side. The only thing he’s sporting is his boxer briefs, straining against his erection. From where you lay, you can see the freckles that scattered across his back onto his shoulders, the little light brown specks contrasting against his skin. Your eyes travel down his lean torso, spit forming in your mouth, as you take him in for the first time in months.

“Like what you see?” He toys, slanting down to press his forehead against yours, hand creeping under your camisole. You gasp when he pinches your nipple, body curving upwards into him.

Satoru busies himself with kissing your neck, teeth scraping along the junction. “Shut up and just hurry before they wake up. And no marks,” you remind him.

The head of your stepbrother's cock glides along your wet folds, Satoru pausing for a moment to slap it against your clit. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he remarks before pushing the tip in.

You both groan as he starts to stretch you with his girth. Your body tingles with every inch he plunges into you. “F-fuck. You're still so fucking tight.”

Your fingers dig into Satoru’s wrist, biting your lower lip to keep your whines in while he rolls his hips into yours. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling down until his forehead rests against yours, your breath mixing in with his. His eyes stay open as he lunges into you, his left hand reaching down to push one of your legs up, long fingers extended across the back.

The rhythm starts slow, his pelvis slamming into your clit with every roll of his hips, but they slowly increase as more of the morning sun pools through the cracks of your bedroom window.

Fighting to keep your cries quiet is a struggle, Satoru’s cock hitting the soft spot inside you with every thrust. Your nails claw at the back of his shoulders, leaving bright red scratches along them, making Satrou hiss in your ear as you drew blood. "I'm going to cum," you mewl into his ear, your body curving up into him as the knot in your belly tightens.

"I know I can feel you squeezing my cock. Can you hold it a little longer and cum with me?" Satoru requests, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours, eyes looking into yours. You nod your head, your brain starting to feel blank as you are propelled along the bed by Satoru's thrusts. Satoru smirks at your lack of verbal response, "What did your big brother fuck you so dumb that you can't even talk? I barely even did anything; is my cock that good?"

You try to answer him, your mind going blank while the knot in your abdomen tightens. Satoru snickers down at you, his hips slapping against yours with more intensity. His orgasm is quickly building up, the muscles of his thighs spasming after every forceful thrust.

"You gonna cum on my cock? Yeah? - fuck," he grunts, his hips snap erratically into you, forcing you up and down along the bed, "Cream all over my cock like a good girl, got it?"

Nodding at him is the only response you can give, your eyes roll back until Satoru can only see the whites, your body convulsing against his, the walls of your cunt clenching and fluttering around his length. Your lips form as a small 'o' as your climax finally washes over you. Your sharp nails dig into the soft skin of his shoulder and forearm while you try to steady yourself as you shake in his hold.

The sensation of you cumming on his length, slick coating his lower stomach ad thighs, pushes Satoru to his release. His body shakes on top of yours, his eyes squeezed shut while he murmurs praises in your ear. You can feel the warmth of his seed spreading inside of you, leaking out as Satoru gently rolls his hips.

You are both out of breath, chests heaving against each other while you come down from your highs. Satoru presses soft kisses along your jaw to your shoulders, his teeth nipping the skin along the way. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, playing with the soft strands of hair that stick to him.

Lost in the aftershocks of your release, you don't hear the door to your parents' door open until footsteps reach your ears when they stop just outside your bedroom door. Your heart stops in your chest when you hear a faint knock on the ajar door, your mother's voice carrying through the crack, "Honey? Are you awake?"

With your voice caught in the back of your throat and Satoru still inside you, your eyes fill with panic when you can't respond. Your panic quickly turns to terror when the door starts to creak open. You push Satoru off and to the other side of your bed, hiding him from sight, and pull yourself up, scrambling for your discarded shorts at the end of the bed. "I'm awake! I'm getting dressed; don't open the door more!" you rush and push the door shut while holding your shorts. The door clicks and you can hear your mom tumble back a little, guilt clawing in your throat, an apology following while you pull your legs into your shorts, "Sorry, mom."

"You're fine, honey. I was coming by to wake you up and ask if you wanted to help me get some things from the store for later this afternoon," you listen to her speak, eyes sealed on the top of Satoru's head when he peeks over the edge of your bed, pulling his underwear back on. "Your father and Satoru are going to clean the patio and grill while I'm out and I thought you might get bored."

You press the back of your head against the door, adrenaline still pumping through you, closing your eyes and letting out a shaky breath. "Sure, mom, I'll go with you. Just let me finish getting ready." When you open your eyes, Satoru is standing in front of you, his fingers finding the curve of your lips while smirking down at you. He leans down and softly pushes his lips to yours, his tongue licking your bottom lip, silently asking you to let him in.

Behind the door, you hear your mother say she'll wait for you and that she's going to make breakfast before her footsteps fade down the hall. Satoru keeps his lips pressed to yours until the sound of clattering dishes reaches your bedroom; he gradually untangles his mouth from yours, your foreheads pushed together.

His hand reaches for the doorknob behind you, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as the door clicks open. "Well, I guess I'll see you later," he says, pressing one last kiss to the top of your head before forcing his way out the door.

Your left in your room, your thoughts, and emotions all jumbled. Swallowing the bile that rises in your throat as you come to terms with the type deprived of the person you are.

Everyone’s assembled outside, the sun past its highest point and the smell of cooking burgers traveling through the air. The discussions of everyone carry to where you laze under the cherry tree. You can hear your mother and stepfather squabbling over the sound of the pool water splashing and people chitchatting.

Satoru stands near the pool, his hands on his hips, listening to them argue. He has a stupid smile as he bends down towards the water and splashes their feet, stopping them from quarreling further.

Your mother laughs out his name, striking him with the towel she picks up from the table while your stepfather shakes his head. Satoru grabs your mother's wrists, laughing as she tries to get him back. Everyone laughs when your mother manages to push him into the water; all while you watch them from one of the lounge chairs.

To anyone, your family would seem like the perfect family. And you guess, for the most part, you were. Your parents seldom argued; the house was always filled with warmth and acceptance, your stepfather had easily stepped into the role of being your father, and you and Satoru got along…a little too well.

Satoru’s pulling himself out of the pool when he catches you watching them. His eyes linger on your soft lips, tongue running along his bottom one, the hungry look from the morning returning to his eyes. You do your best to shrink back into yourself, go back to being unnoticed by him, already knowing where this would lead if you didn’t. And you couldn’t do that while your parents were in the house. Awake.

Satoru stalks up to you, his body casting a shadow over you, the sun completely obscured from your sight. You peer up at him through your eyelashes, a fake scowl on your face, “Can I help you?”

He extends his arm down to you, fingers unfolded and doing a come hither motion, “Let’s swim.”

Your eyes flicker to where your parents stand; their foreheads close together as they whisper to each other. Looking back to Satoru, you shake your head, scared to let him in as you did in the morning. You try to get him to leave you alone, mumbling, “Not here.”

He doesn’t accept your response, pulling you up the elbow and tossing you over his shoulder. He slaps your ass once, laughing while you yelp, eyes scanning the crowd nervously, hoping no one saw. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

Everything sounds far off when Satoru throws himself into the pool with you still thrown over his shoulder. You barely even hear the sound of your scream as you watch everything around you stop in time before you crash into the water. Satoru's hands remain on you, pulling you into himself to protect you somewhat from the impact with the water, slowly floating to the bottom of the warm water.

The chlorine burns your eyes, but you can't close them when you find yourself staring into a clear mirror of the blue ocean with specks of white foam. Small pockets of time bubbles float around you, suspending the two of you underneath the water; the seconds that pass feel like minutes that drag on.

You are broken out of your daze when your toes touch the bottom of the pool, the lack of air becoming apparent when you feel the burn in your lungs. Forcing yourself out of the Satoru’s hold, you swim up towards the surface, immediately gasping for air once your head is out from underneath the water. It has only been less than a few seconds, but you still feel as if you had been trapped underneath the cool water for hours. The guests around you are still laughing from your Satoru's prank while you push your soaking hair back.

You're swimming back to the patio when Satoru jumps out from underneath you, making you yelp when he raises you above the water. The people around you laugh even more as you grip onto his white hair for balance, making him yell out in pain, “Hey, hey, hey! Watch the hair. I don’t want to be bald before I'm even thirty.”

“Then put me down!” you exclaim, your fingers pulling harshly on his wet locks.

Satoru grunts, reaching up to pull your fingers from his head and intertwine them with his own. He carefully sinks back into the water before letting go of your hands. When he pops back up he's massaging his scalp with one hand while keeping himself afloat with the other. "Did you have to pull so hard?"

Everyone's attention is now turned away from you now that the show is over, no one listening to either of you as you swim to the end of the pool where you had been lazing around, "Like you didn't enjoy it," you mumble as you swim past Satoru. He follows close behind you, the tips of his fingers brushing against the piece of jewelry around your ankle. When you reach the edge Satoru stops you, wrapping his hands around your waist. "What are you doing?" you angrily ask him when you feel the tip of his fingers slip into the waistband of your bikini bottom in front. Your eyes fly across the pool area while his fingers slip further down your bottoms.

"Satoru, not here. Everyone will see," you hissed, his fingers sliding against your folds, teeth clenched together. Your eyes dart across the pool area, scanning the crowd of people to see if anyone can see what is happening, but everyone's attention is turned to each other.

"I'll be quick. Promise," Satoru's sugary voice whispers in your ear, two of his fingers sinking into your pussy. You shut your eyes for a moment before they snap open, flickering across the patio to all the people that surround you. Satoru's fingers slide in and out of your cunt, the heel of his hand rubbing your clit with every flick of his wrist. Your teeth bite into your bottom lip, keeping your moans in, attempting to keep the crowd around you from noticing what is happening underneath the water.

You grind your hips down on the heel of his hand, attempting to cum quickly so that you can get out of the water and away from your stepbrother. There's a slight ringing in your ears from the dread of being caught being fingered by your stepbrother, but above it, you can hear the clinking of a bottle against the floor of the patio directly in front of you. Glancing up you notice Suguru, Satoru's childhood friend, slowly sitting down on the lounge chair you had been occupying, his elbows resting on his knees while he looks into your eyes.

You feel bile rise to your throat as he knowingly smirks at you, his hand reaching for the glass bottle next to his feet. He holds your eyes as he raises the mouth to his lips to drink from it.

Satoru notices your attention is no longer on him, so with his other hand, he reaches down to pinch your clit, causing you to almost let out a pleasured cry. You cum with the feeling of your bud pinched between his fingers, your upper body trembling in his hold, eyes still keeping contact with the long-haired man in front of you.

Satoru removes his fingers from your bottoms, bringing them up to his lips to clean them. Your glare back up at him, your body still shaking as your mother calls for everyone to head inside. You push yourself out of the pool, your brain no longer clouded by pleasure and you look down at Satoru before scanning the pool and watching as everyone makes their way into the house. Glancing at Satoru one last time, you slip into your sandals and wrap a towel, leaving Satoru alone in the pool. Along with the perverse relationship. Beneath the murky water where no one would be able to see what the perverse beings you truly were.

JJK Taglist: @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein

#⛱.SummerLovin #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

Ouroboros

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. It can be a thin line between like and dislike, love and hate. Or an endless circle.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (f to m, blow job), vaginal sex, dirty talk, arguing, enemies to lovers.

Word Count: 1.7k

Build a blurb prompt: Benedict + 👅 smut + 😡 enemies to lovers + 🥳 party

Authors Note: Fifth in my 1k follower celebration. Unbetaed. Guys don't ask me what this is, it poured out of me at 3am. Sorry for pics, I needed moody looking modern Benedict. Anon requester, I hope you don't hate this.

You need a way to shut him up. And this is the best one you can think of, spur of the moment.

His look of confusion is priceless as you grab him by the belt, propel him out of the kitchen of the party, and push him against the coarse brick wall of the house. It’s dark outside, save a waxing moon, but a warm evening, the scent of magnolia vine wafting from the neighbours' pergola.

“What the…?”

“Shut the fuck up, Bridgerton,” you grouse and start to pull abruptly on his belt, unlooping it as he seems to breathe raggedly.

He’s not helping, but he’s not stopping you, either. He is doing what you asked, shutting up. You feel his gaze observing as you bat away the belt as it relents and roughly tug open the button at his fly. As you move to pull down the zip, his hand covers yours, making you tilt your head up to look at him.

Even in the shadows, you can see him giving you a questioning, uncertain look.

“Don’t look this gift horse in the mouth,” you warn, and his eyes flash in the shaft of light leaking from the window. After a second of consideration, he drops the hand from yours. A spike of euphoric victory pulses in your veins as he does so, letting you pull down the zip.

You dive a hand into his underwear, and he gasps as you grab him. Half hard, almost hot to the touch and silky. He grows rapidly, and you smirk as he makes needy little noises, his eyes screwing shut, breathing sharp puffs out of his nose as he twitches and comes to life in your fist.

You are secretly impressed by what you feel and use your other hand to push down his jeans and free him from his boxer briefs.

He inhales sharply as you drop to your knees and then groans long, low, and predatory as you take him into your mouth. He is sizeable and tastes a little salty and so very Benedict, the natural tang you can smell on his clothing and skin when he’s in your orbit. It makes you drool around him and a little buzz in the base of your skull that goads you to be relentless.

You have no idea what has possessed you, but as the cold stone abraids your kneecaps and a warm hand rests on your head, you want nothing more than this. And him. Your dislike of him metastasising into a searing desire and twisted affection. You want him mindless for you. And based on the noises he is making, the little spasms in his downy thighs, the underside of his cock throbbing on your tongue, that’s precisely what he is.

“Fuckkkkk,” he groans, his voice tight and thready as you suck him deeper, bumping the back of your mouth—sucking and swirling with your tongue breathing heavily through your nose, not giving him a moment of reprieve from your onslaught. A bead of pre cum drops onto your tonsil, and you don’t hate the flavour.

“Please, I…” his voice is desperate and whispered, “I want to fuck you. Please, please let me,” his breathy supplication makes you pause. His fingernails in your hair scratch your scalp gently, sending a shiver down your spine right to your throbbing clit.

“Just come in my mouth,” you argue back, gargling around his head as you concentrate your efforts there.

He moans at your suggestion or maybe the vibration of your voice around his cock.

“Please…” it’s quiet and gentle and makes you pause your actions. Look up into his eyes that are a riot of soulful arousal even in the low moonlight. He may be the first man to ask you to stop a blowjob. And for your benefit, in a way. It makes you irritated how chivalrous he can be. “This is mind-blowingly good,” he suddenly adds, as if your hesitation may be due to a doubt of his enjoyment, “but if this only happens once, I want to feel what it’s like to be buried inside you.”

You let his cock slip from your mouth, and it bobs against your nose. You nip and suck on his underside as you negotiate.

“Why fuck someone you hate?” you throw out casually.

“I never have and never could hate you,'' he implores, looking down at you, astounded. But closes his eyes and swallows hard as you suckle his frenulum. “You drive me to absolute insanity. But that’s not hate.”

He grabs your hands and pulls you away from his cock; up to your feet, resting his forehead on yours in a surprisingly intimate gesture, staring into your eyes.

“You are all that I think about some days. On the days you make me so angry I want to kill you, I can’t, not even in my head, not even in theory. Every scenario, every time, I always, always end up begging to fuck you—I sort of hate us both for it,” he huffs a hollow laugh and closes his eyes again.

His honest, raw confession stops you in your tracks. And you realise everything he said is exactly how you feel about him. Wordlessly and unseen by him, you reach under your dress and remove your underwear.

“Sit down on the wall,” you order him as he reopens his eyes, pointing to a retaining wall holding a riot of plants.

He does so, his cock standing proud of his body, and with a sigh of inevitability, you straddle him and guide him inside your body with no warning.

He hisses loudly in your ear as you sink onto him. Everything in you knows his cock feels perfect for you, and you hate him for that too. Or rather, you want to, but if the love-hate continuum is a never-ending circle, you are skating the fine line where they meet. Very much the ouroboros head eating its own tail.

You plunge to his root, your knees sinking into the damp earth under the vegetation tickling his back.

“Oh god, it’s better than I feared,” his voice sounds anguished almost, “you feel utterly amazing,” he confesses.

“So do you,” you admit quietly into the warm skin of his neck.

Then you are riding him slowly; his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his breath hot on your cheek, making sounds that spur you on and make you want it to last forever. Goddammit, why, why, WHY does it have to be this good?

This is the sort of sex that is addictive and dangerous. A quickie on a garden wall at a house party should be regrettable, short and uncomfortable. Something terrible but memorable. A humorous bawdy story to tell. It shouldn’t be this. This sensual but filthy fuck that has eyes rolling and hands desperately grabbing hot flesh, disbelieving words tumbling from slack panting mouths. You want to hate him for what he’s doing to your body with seemingly so little effort (having a rideable cock, in essence), but you can’t. You’ve had plenty of rideable cocks in your time, but they didn’t make you feel like this. Like you’re skating the edge of a volcano that could swallow you whole in fiery flames or send you shooting to the sky in an eruption that remaps your entire known landscape. Or worse still, possibly both.

You don’t kiss. Incongruously as you fuck each other senseless, kissing feels like a line you shouldn’t cross yet, big warning signs flashing. So you press cheekbones together and drown each other’s ears with your mutual desperate sounds, pleadings and affirmations—limbs quaking long before an orgasm approaches.

“I want to fuck you over my desk,” he snarls, “I want traces of your juices all over my work; I want to smell you there as I write, as I paint.”

That sort of dirty talk has you pulsing around him and moaning so loud he shushes you.

“I don’t give a fuck if everyone at this party hears us, is watching us even,” you assert, drunk on the rush swooping low in your belly, a hook tugging deep inside that throws all caution to the wind and makes you ride harder. The sharp edge of the wall biting into your shin, likely drawing blood from how you are slamming hard onto him now—skin slapping together in a carnal symphony.

His noises are low and resonant, and he starts to thrust his pelvis up, meeting your downstroke, grunting with the effort. And he rings that jackpot bell inside you, like one of those stupid strength-o-meter carnival machines.

“Just don’t fucking stop Benedict,” you bark through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t stop. In fact, he shifts angles slightly, and you see stars. A hand that tastes of salt and vinegar crisps and spilt red wine clamps over your mouth as you scream and break after a few deadly moments, a questing thumb angled to crush your clit as you sink.

Your whole body convulses, and he has to grab you hard to keep you on him, grunting deep as he spears into you one last time and empties in a huffing mess, twitching with aftershocks that shoot more cum against your hilt. You thank the gods for the IUD at the same time as your cunt clenches at the idea he has somehow fucked you so hard you are with his child.

There is nothing but the muffled sound of the party, a whisper of a breeze through the trees and your panting breaths as you embrace tightly, both reluctant to believe what has transpired.

“What the fuck do we do now,” he chuckles rueful but sated. “It wouldn’t be fair to us not to do this again,” he argues.

“I know, I know,” your sigh, simultaneously burdened by that tricky knowledge but feeling lighter than you have in months. You don’t want to lift off his softening cock; you just want to live on it until he is hard again. What a fucking ridiculous notion that nonetheless tastes so real, your thirst for this new dynamic barely slaked.

“If you take the next week off work, I’ll let you open a credit card in my name and run up a debt,” he jests, but the code behind his words is heavy and authentic. You already know you’d let him ruin you in any way he wanted, and it’s mutual.

You take the week, and so does he. One day bleeding into the next as you finally kiss and fuck endlessly in ways neither of you would have imagined if not for the other. By the end of it, you have all but moved in together.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #1k follower celebration #build a blurb celebration

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amelia-ailema · 1 year

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Gepard Landau- Hair strokes, some things never change

When you were younger, your best friend, Serval, asked you to watch over her younger brother, two grades below you two, during her guitar lessons. “He’ll be back from playing outside in a minute,” as she rushed out the door. You went outside to wave her goodbye, and sat on the marble stairs, humming a tune. Suddenly, a boy, with the same blue eyes and blond hair as Serval, bolted at an alarming fast speed, and.. fell towards you, flat on his face. He started crying after a brief pause, and slowly lifting his body up, hugging his legs as he sat still. Uh oh, the kid was scuffed up. You snapped out of your shock and rushed over. “Gepard, right?” you said gently. “Is it okay for me to carry you into the house?” The boy nodded. You carried him swiftly, and sat him on the velvet couch. Grabbing the first aid kit, you applied 4 bandaids. On his cheek, both of his elbows, and his kneecap. “There, all better,” you said with a soft smile. “Thank you,” he replied, and threw his hands around you, hugging you. You patted his head, and at his request, stroked his hair. You and him passed the time by drawing (although Gepard was quite bad, even for a kid), watching TV, and playing board games. Before you knew it, Serval was home. “Thanks, Y/N! I owe you,” as she handed you $50. “Isn’t- isn’t this a bit much?” you stuttered. “Don’t worry about it, you free to do this again next week?” Serval replied with a grin. Gepard nodded, a bit harder than he should’ve. “Sure! Gerpard’s an amazing kid,” you smiled. Until Gepard graduated junior high, you were his weekly babysitter, and often came over to hang out or have sleepovers with Serval. Gepard would try to stay up with you two, but always fell by 10 pm. He couldn’t help it, the way he asked you to stroke his hair yet again, relaxing at the touch.

As Gepard kneeled on the ground, holding his head, with his comrades all panting on the floor. After Gepard and his guards have risen, and listened to your group’s explanation, you looked at Serval. “I wish to stay here and help explain the situation, and prevent the rest of the guards from attacking you,” you reasoned. With a knowing smile, Serval nodded, as the group and you wished each other luck. As soon as the group was out of sight, Gepard crashed to the ground. As you and the guards rushed towards him, he murmured, “Y/N, I summoned a shield on you and and my sister before the fight.. I don’t wish to see you, or Serval get hurt,” he added softly, “I’m in love with you.” He must’ve over exhausted himself, with investigating the case and an even more exhausting fight. As the Silvermane guards carried him to the medical tent, you were by his side, never taking your eyes off of him. Your heart skipped a beat, replaying his sudden confession in your head.

It’s been three days. You sit besides him, stroking his hair like you did in your childhood. As you rest your head on the side of his cot once more, you could’ve sworn his hand twitched. Not fully realizing the situation in your tired state, you clasped his hand and fell asleep. You woke up a few hours later, somebody’s hand running through your hair. Relaxed, you felt your tension leave- hold on, wait a minute- “Gepard, you’re awake,” you said softly. You rest your head against his shoulder. “And by the way, I feel the same,” you admitted. “Over the past few years, I started to see you differently, and realized it was love.” Gepard blushed, pulling you in for a hug so you wouldn’t see how red his face was. “For me, it was the day we met, I knew that you were special,” he said softly. He added, “Can I kiss you?” and nervously waited. “Of course,” you answered. He pulled you in, his lips on yours melting your brain. “They’re soft,” you thought. As he pulled away, Gepard asked you to run your fingers through his hair. Some things never change. Neither of you know what the future holds, but you would never be apart now. As you hugged each other tightly, you knew in your hearts that you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Fin.

#star rail gepard #honkai starrail gepard #gepard #gepard landau #gepard x reader #honkai starrail #hoyoverse #star rail #honkai

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