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#more than half the dogs don’t even know their name
saetoru · 6 months
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AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.
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kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here
synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead
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length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)
contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)
notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos
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most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.
no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.
you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.
who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.
but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.
those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.
suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.
but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.
not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.
his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.
he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.
that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.
what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?
i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.
wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?
oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?
nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.
but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.
but if only they knew…
if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 
instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 
“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”
“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.
suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.
suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.
a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?
he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 
“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”
you roll your eyes, snorting.
“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”
“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.
“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”
“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.
your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.
“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”
“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”
you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 
girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.
make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.
don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.
don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.
“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”
“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 
sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”
it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 
“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”
you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 
“suguru—”
“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 
part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 
“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”
“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”
it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.
“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”
his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 
“suguru, m-more—”
“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”
his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 
it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 
“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”
“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”
he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.
“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”
“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”
“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”
“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”
“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 
“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”
“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”
“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”
“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”
“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 
“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”
“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”
his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 
his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 
“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 
he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 
“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”
your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 
“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.
“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”
just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 
“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”
“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”
“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”
suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 
no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 
disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 
something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 
so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”
he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 
for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 
“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”
“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”
“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”
despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 
“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 
you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 
it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 
they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 
“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”
“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”
“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.
it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.
it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.
“s-suguru—oh.”
“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 
and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.
“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 
you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 
it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.
every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 
“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”
you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 
“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”
“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”
“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”
“yeah? you swear?”
“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”
“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”
“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”
“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 
“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 
it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”
“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”
you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 
“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”
his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 
“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”
“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”
“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”
“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”
“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.
“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”
“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”
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if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them
do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!
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lovebugism · 7 months
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AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely
Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love
ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do. 
He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding. 
You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault. 
The “because you’re here” is typically implied. 
Not so much now.
You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.
“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”
Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.
You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.
Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion. 
For the first time ever, you’re not helping.
“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”
“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.
Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”
“…What?” you squeak.
Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though. 
“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.
You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”
He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.
“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”
Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.
You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest. 
The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.
But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.
“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.
Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy. 
“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”
There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy. 
He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.
After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”
You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.
“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it. 
He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”
He leaves little room for argument.
You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.
—————
Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store. 
Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.
Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.
“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.
The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence. 
Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”
“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”
“What do you mean she’s upset?”
Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”
Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”
“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”
Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”
“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”
Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane. 
He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.
He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.
“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”
He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.
Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”
Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”
He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.
He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.
His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”
You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”
Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”
“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”
“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”
You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.
Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.
With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”
You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are. 
You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?
“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”
“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had. 
He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.
He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t. 
“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”
“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”
Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself. 
“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”
You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.
He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”
“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”
“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness. 
You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”
“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile. 
You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see. 
“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”
“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.
“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”
Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”
“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”
“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.
Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”
You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.
“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.
You look at him with it, anyway. 
Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey. 
Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently. 
His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.
“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.
“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”
Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”
“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!”
“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
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random firefighter!ace headcanons (while I finish this fic!)
warnings: nothing too bad! some fluffiness and silly!ace, a few nsfw things under the cut, alcohol mentions, food mentions
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firefighter!ace is surprisingly a neat freak. At least around the firehouse..he does weekly inspections and is very meticulous about how the equipment is stored. He has his own little system and everything. (his apartment is another story though!)
firefighter!ace thinks he is the appointed cook in the firehouse. Mans throws down in the kitchen and will make enough to feed an army. (he’s half Filipino in my head idc idc) so he cooks a lot of Asian fusion dishes, recipes passed down from his mom and family and yes, he insists on making them for (y/n) too on ‘date’ nights.
firefighter!ace is a CLOWN and a half. He keeps everybody in high spirits, especially after a rough call. Dancing, playing music, cracking jokes, playing cards..he will never let his team stay down for too long! (hc that he loves Bad Bunny, J Balvin and a lil bit of dancehall 🤭.) went to the club with (y/n) once and you were shocked when you started whining on him and he knew what to do with it!
firefighter!ace keeps teddy bears and dolls in the fire truck in case there are children at the scene and he always rushes to comfort them.
firefighter!ace spends his days off hiking, camping, running and doing a bunch of nature-centric activities. He loves the outdoors and wants to share that passion with you! He gets sooo excited when you agree to go on a hike with him up to this canyon he’s trekked a few times, surprised when you beat him up there. “You’re really good at this, rookie. You can run more than your mouth.” “Nah, I just wanted to kick your ass, that’s all.”
firefighter!ace is an animal lover. He has two cats and the firehouse dog is his literal son. He pets random animals whilst out at the park and will come over to your apartment just to ignore you and play with your kittens! “Anyways, I’m not here for you. I came to see my daughter, thank you.” 😭
firefighter!ace is the life of the party and that even gets worse when he drinks. He can handle his liquor pretty well so he doesn’t fall all over the place but he is way too lively when he’s drunk!
firefighter!ace does have a bit of a fashion game. He and his brother are sneaker heads and collect them so his closet is filled with all sorts of shoes. He has more a rustic, indie/hippy aesthetic but he dresses really nice when he needs to.
firefighter!ace loves the idea of sneaking around the firehouse with you. Getting in quickies with the very little free time and privacy you have. Covering your mouth as he gets you up against the wall in the bunks. “C’mon, rookie. We only have a few minutes, don’t get us caught.”
firefighter!ace is a back kisser, neck licker and suck toes. He’s so attentive and loving when you guys do get your alone time. Especially when you’ve had an attitude all week and he knows what you need. He will give you the slowest strokes while looking deep in your eyes and prone bone because he doesn’t want you doing any of the work. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Needed me stretch you out? Should’ve just said that from the beginning.”
firefighter!ace lovesssss showering together. Not just for the sexual aspect but the intimacy of it. Touching and feeling every inch of your skin, kissing you real slow underneath falling water and holding your face. Seeing your skin all lathered up in soap and just admiring every inch of your body. “You’re so soft..I love it.”
firefighter!ace gets so intense and passionate, becoming a little possessive..fucking you like it’s the last time after extremely dangerous calls. If there was an instant where your life has been in danger or he was scared of losing you, he all but puts you through the mattress, making you whimper and claw at the sheets as you scream his name. He cries into your neck/shoulder, just confessing his feelings. “You’re mine..you got that? Don’t you ever scare me again.”
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zorobff · 7 months
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i bet on losing dogs. (opla!zoro x reader)
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synopsis: zoro is defeated by mihawk and therefore unable to claim the title of the world’s greatest swordsman. you just want him to know that he’s still the greatest to you.
warnings: mentions of blood, some direct dialogue from opla, not much romance i literally just wanted someone to tell zoro he’s enough bc he deserves it <3
a/n: idk if this is any good i just wanted an excuse to write and one piece has been my fixation for like 2 months now so :P
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you can’t move.
it seems as if every bone in your body is frozen in place despite your brain telling you to do something — anything. you stand there, eyes helplessly locked onto zoro’s weak and defeated body. your heart is racing and you’re unable to stop your mind from doing the same. after all, there was a certain unease that came with seeing someone like roronoa zoro be conquered. his dream of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman had been crushed within minutes. knowing zoro, that thought would be tougher to overcome than any physical wound.
you want to run to him. to be with him.
luffy beats you to it.
“zoro!” he shouts with such pain that you wonder if he’s somehow hurting more than the swordsman is.
the sight of your captain sprinting across the deck of the baratie manages to push you to action. the two of you rush to zoro’s side, trying and failing to look anywhere but the bright red gash across his torso. it’s even worse up close. with every heave of his chest, more blood oozes out.
the cut is impossibly deep and yet, you can’t help but feel grateful. you’d seen the size of mihawk’s sword. the thing could’ve split zoro in half with the flick of a wrist. just the thought of that sends a new wave of shivers down your spine. you thank every higher power that mihawk was feeling generous enough to spare your friend’s life.
“zoro?” you attempt to say his name calmly. “zoro, please talk to us.”
his eyelashes flutter as he attempts to keep conscious. you see the subtle wincing in his face, the clenching of his jaw. for a second you wish he would have passed out, at least then he wouldn’t have to endure all this agony. even though this was surely the worst hit anyone had landed on him during his extensive career, you could tell that wasn’t the hardest part for him.
his eyes stay glued to the skies, refusing to even acknowledge you or luffy. his irises gloss over and tears well up on his waterline. there could only be one thing on his mind, the one thing you knew he was truly passionate about; his promise. was he afraid he had let down that nameless person he always spoke of? that he had failed as a swordsman?
for some reason, you want to cry with him.
“you did good,” you whisper without a second thought. “just stay awake, okay?”
luffy nods in agreement, hand coming to grip zoro’s shoulder so tightly his knuckles turn white.
“monkey d. luffy,” calls mihawk, shifting everyone’s attention back to him. “what is your goal?”
your captain nearly growls. “i’m going to be the king of the pirates.”
luffy’s response could seem rehearsed. mechanical, even. but the truth is he just meant it that much. his conviction was unmatched in every possible way.
“king of the pirates, eh?” repeats mihawk. there’s a hint of amusement in his tone. however, he wasn’t mocking luffy, as many people tend to do when they hear of his dream. “that is a much more treacherous path than defeating even me.”
luffy whips around to fix mihawk with a stern glare. “i don’t care. it’s what i’m going to do.”
“maybe you will at that,” muses the bearded swordsman. “this world could use a few more wild cards.”
their odd exchange ends there, leaving an unnerving silence. the sound of your choked back sobs getting caught in your throat and waves splashing against the deck is all there is for a moment.
“why the tears, girl?” mihawk inquires.
you can’t bear to look at him, much less respond. not after what he’d done to zoro. your hands that once rested reassuringly on your crewmate’s stomach now ball into fists. how could he behave so nonchalantly when he had injured zoro within an inch of his life?
“seems like you aren’t as plucky as the rest of your crew, hm?” mihawk comments when his question is met with silence.
hot tears of frustration roll down your cheeks. “get lost. you’ve done enough damage, haven’t you?”
“that would be incorrect. i was tasked with retrieving your captain for the marines. as you can see, i have yet to do that.”
“i couldn’t care less about what you came here for,” you tell him between gritted teeth. “how do you have the nerve to stand there and talk down to us after what you did to him?”
mihawk’s head tilts to the side as he observes you. pensively, he murmurs, “you care for him.”
“of course we care for him, he’s our crewmate!” luffy shouts in response, clearly missing the true meaning behind the words.
on the other hand, you opt to stay silent, slightly embarrassed about how quickly mihawk was able to catch on to you. were your feelings really that easy to see through? almost as if confirming your concern, mihawk coughs out a dry chuckle before his face falls stoic once more.
“look after him.” his gaze lingers on you when he says that. “it is too soon for him to die. roronoa zoro, grow strong and come find me. i’ll be waiting.”
with that, mihawk makes his exit. once the coast is clear, usopp and nami finally come scurrying over. the marksman kneels down on zoro’s left while the latter stays standing, almost too afraid to get close.
“he’s losing so much blood,” usopp notes, voice unsteady.
luffy is quick to shut down the true implication behind those words. “he’s going to be okay.”
a strangled groan escapes the green-haired swordsman in question. the four of you freeze. the moment feels eerily similar to when you watched him collapse after mihawk had struck him down. for the second time in a day, zoro has all of you holding your breath in anticipation.
“if i—” he swallows hard, eyes still shiny and looking upward. “—fail to become the world’s greatest swordsman... you’ll be disappointed. right?”
luffy’s gaze softens. “you could never fail me.”
however, your captain’s sincere words don’t seem to be enough. zoro finally rips his gaze away from the clouds, head lolling to the side to face you instead. those wide eyes of his always held so much intensity, so much emotion. now is no different as he meets your stare, seemingly in search of your reassurance as well.
it wasn’t that you were unsure of what to say but how to say it. you didn’t trust yourself to speak your mind and say what you truly thought of zoro. the last thing you needed was your feelings for him slipping out at a time like this. you decide to play it safe and just nod. “you know i feel the same way. we all do.”
“i need… to hear you say it,” he replies, voice cracking.
your heartbeat gets caught in your throat at the utter desperation in zoro’s voice. it sounded as if he truly needed your approval if he was going to survive this. it was unlike him to get hung up on something so trivial such as someone’s opinion of him. he never seemed to care what other people thought, why was he starting now? and with you, of all people?
before you can question it any further, zoro hisses. the pain causes his entire body to tense and his wound spurts fresh crimson. without thinking, your hand comes up to rest reassuringly on his cheek. automatically, your thumb begins rubbing soothing circles on the skin. he’s hot to the touch and slick with sweat but you don’t mind it. the way his body relaxes itself is all you care about. well, that and the way he leans into your touch. for someone who rejected physical contact at every given chance, this was new but very, very welcome.
the emotion of it all causes you to lose any concern you’d previously had over voicing your thoughts about zoro. you can’t help but give him the response he was begging for, regardless of how smitten you sounded.
“zoro, you’re the best i’ve seen. and i don’t just mean with your swords. no defeat could ever take away what you have, you know that right? almost everyday i ask myself what the hell i’m doing on the same crew as someone like you. you don’t understand how much it pains me knowing that you feel the need to prove your worth when clearly you’re the greatest there is. in every way. so, how could i ever be disappointed in you?”
there’s a few moments of silence. this time, you truly don’t hear a thing. not the waves, not the birds in the sky, not even the thumping of your own heartbeat. your brain has blocked out everything that isn’t zoro. the same zoro who’s breaking down into tears right in front of you. it’s an unbelievable sight, watching them stream down his face as he takes in everything you’d just said.
using what little strength he has left, zoro lifts a shaky hand to rest atop yours. you pause your ministrations on his cheek and let him intertwine his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand so tightly that you’re positive it takes everything in him to do so.
“never… again,” he chokes out, tearful eyes meeting yours. “from now, until i beat him.” he uses his left hand to unsheathe his sword. he lifts it to the sky with purpose, as if to solidify this vow. “will i ever give you a reason to be disappointed in me. i, roronoa zoro, will never lose again!”
his grip becomes unsteady, causing his sword to fall from his grasp and clatter on the ground. his arm falls back to his side and he’s able to give you one last look before he’s out cold.
“zoro?” luffy calls, leaning forward. “zoro?!”
you suck in a shaky breath at the feeling of his hand going limp. you’re grateful he’s still breathing at the very least but it’s clear he needs medical attention fast.
“let’s get him inside,” nami commands. it’s the first thing she’s worked up the courage to say.
luffy and usopp waste no time shifting zoro’s arms over their shoulders while you and nami take his legs. despite your joint efforts, the four of you struggle to drag zoro off the baratie; you blame his rigorous training that had made him all muscle. usually you wouldn’t complain but it sure made carrying him aboard the going merry a difficult task. at last, he’s dumped onto the table in your makeshift kitchen.
“get the first aid kit,” nami demands, opening zoro’s shirt to inspect the severity of his wound.
“do we even have one?” usopp replies as he shifts around every cupboard and drawer on the ship.
“zoro… can you hear me?” luffy’s quiet voice gets lost in the commotion your two other crew mates are creating. but you take notice.
“he’s going to be alright,” you tell him. whether you say it for luffy or yourself, you aren’t certain.
“someone needs to go back to baratie,” nami sighs, running a hand through her ginger locks. “maybe one of the customers is a ship’s doctor.”
the devil fruit user blinks a couple times. “right. a doctor. we need a doctor.” he sprints out of the kitchen, presumably in search of one.
once your captain’s gone, nami aids usopp in scouring the kitchen, in search of anything that could potentially help your crew mate until he’s able to receive the proper medical attention.
you decide to stay right by zoro’s side. not once do you leave him.
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satellitespinner · 3 months
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MODERN ELLIE HEADCANNONS
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modern!ellie who rides a beat up skateboard from when she was 15 everywhere. i mean everywhere your place, jesse’s, class. everywhere !
modern!ellie whose pen is never not in her hand, or deep denim pockets.
modern!ellie who tries to learn cool pen tricks while “finishing” her homework, but ends up hitting you with the pen..
modern!ellie who was your bestfriend before she was your girlfriend. you two were inseparable! (and irritating.)
modern!ellie who never fucking answers her texts.. it’s infuriating.
modern!ellie who sells weed on the side of working at a small café on campus. (she doesn’t like Starbucks) ((as she should))
modern!ellie who majors in astrophysics! that girl has been in love with space since she could talk. infact! her first word was planet!
modern!ellie who was unfortunately in the foster care system until she was adopted by the lovely man we all know as joel miller!!
modern!ellie whose username on all platforms is more likely to be something stupid than her actual name.
modern!ellie who refuses to turn on auto correct even though she so desperately needs it.
modern!ellie never cooks. ever! it’s either take-out or you forcing a homemade meal down her throat. (she doesn’t mind.)
modern!ellie who cuddles you like you’re married!
modern!ellie doesn’t play about her video game!!!! she will throw a tantrum!
modern!ellie’s playlist consists of hard rock, indie and atleast some rap.
modern!ellie who just shows up at your house?? at let’s herself in!!! the disrespect.. (you don’t care..)
imagine you come home from a long, stressed-filled day. juggling work and exam week AND the weight of being the baddest bitch on campus has really been weighing on you lately; causing you to (as she calls it) neglect ellie..
you walk in, shoulders slumped and release a heavy sigh as you drop your things down on the kitchen table when your bestfriend walks out of your bathroom like nothing.
“hello?” you say, your face morphing from scared to un-impressed as you realize the person in your home was not an intruder.
“hey babe” she says quietly as she walks over to you, slowly watching you as you put your things away.
“how many times have i told you. the extra key i gave you is for emergencies.” you lecture. not really caring as much as you led on to be.
“there was an emergency though!” she argues. you give her a look of scepticism. “and what would that be?” you roll your eyes.
“we haven’t hung out in three days! hello?! i’ve barely seen you since monday!” she whines.
“i’ve been busy, that’s all.”
“busy?”
“yeah.” you whisper, palming your eyes out of fatigue. she gives you a half smile as she realizes that you’re not in the mood for her god awful attitude.
“awh, ‘cmere” the next thing you know your letting yourself relax into ellie’s arms as she rubs your back and gently soothes the tension in your body.
“you wanna go lay down?” she looks down at you and asks. hee voice remaining in the same low whisper as before.
“yeah, please.” you say before she grabs your hand and pulls you into your bedroom. she insists on making you feel better at this point and who are you to stop her??
she opens your pajama drawer and pulls out a big baggy shirt and some shorts, “put these on.” she says as she walks around the bed to the night table, switching the lamp on and peeling back the blanket.
she somehow managed to keep her eyes to herself and when your done she carefully slides into bed next to you. “you comfy?” she asks.
“im good.” god you can already feel your eyes closing. ellie slowly pulls you into her arms and rubs small circles on your stomach as she lulls you into tranquility. eventually you both fall asleep; what seemed to be the weight of the world lifting of your shoulders.
for now.
modern!ellie who had a crusty white dog but it went missing and she never saw it again.
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seph-ic · 1 year
Text
My favorite thing ever?
Nico has a service dog 
Because after Mr. D diagnoses him with PTSD he feels kind of hopeless and overwhelmed (especially after her hears that it can’t be easily fixed with magic or anything) 
So Mr D. Suggests that he get a service animal. 
Nico argues that animals hate him because he ‘smells like death’. Mr. D Points out that Mrs O’Leary doesn’t hate him. 
They both go talk to Hades who jumps at the excuse to win back his son by buying him more stuff. 
The dog ends up being a hellhound mix (don’t ask how.) 
The mix is mostly so she is a bit smaller for convenience (so she can fit in places.)
I'd assume she looks something like a Burmese mountain dog mix.
Her names Penelope (Penny) and Nico loves her. 
Nico and Her spend a couple of months doing service dog training with Artemis and the hunters (dogs are one of her patron animals.)
the time he spends with them also gives him a bit of closure and helps him process what happened to his sister.
soon enough she's graduated their honorary service dog school and is fully trained.
She goes with Nico everywhere. Since she is half hellhound she can assist with shadow travel and make it easier for Nico. (To Wills relief) 
She helps Nico with panic attacks and nightmares. 
She grabs things for him (KitKats, sword, water, pillows.) 
she can even open the fridge in the big house.
If Nico is having a really bad episode or a flashback he can’t come out of or if he’s in any physical danger, she knows to go get Will Chiron or MR D. In a heartbeat. 
Again a shadow traveling dog being useful.
Will makes extra sure that everyone at camp is aware of how service animals work. 
He teaches all the campers about what Penny's job is and why they’re not allowed to distract her.
On occasion when she isn't working she'll play fetch or get pets from some of the kids. 
All Nicos freind's and family love her.
Like everyone wants to be a part of this dogs life, Nico has literally never been more popular.
Hazel buys her a sweater for the holidays.
Rachel helps Nico also dye part of her tail at one point (to keep her identifiable) and they give it a cool design.
Annabeth asks if she can make her a cool dog house.
Piper insists that they take her to the groomer and buys her little bandannas.
Percy helps Nico teach her how to swim.
She will also grabs medical supplies for Will sometimes.
Grover also knows how to talk to her and regularly lets her know how Nico is doing (not that she doesn't already know.) 
Nico finds it easier to eat with Penelope.
It kind of forces him to eat on a schedule, since Penny has to be fed three times a day and the two of them can eat at the same time.
Nico also gives her little scraps off his plate sometimes which makes them both happy.
She gets absolutely spoiled. 
At one point Nico gets worried that she might get hurt fighting a monster. Hades assured him she won’t but Leo makes her some extra cool dog armor just in case
She also has a little bag attached to her vest for carrying supplies on quests and long journeys. (list of things these bags might contain: Ambrosia, Dog treats, Water/kitkats, extra weapons, drachmas.)
Nico connects so well with this fucking dog.
Like he always struggled with people and he never really even considered being an animal person.
But he absolutely adores Penny.
He talks to her about things that worry him and just finds her presence so unbelievably comforting.
Will solace (who I think personally would become a vet sooner than a doctor) Has this dog on the best fucking diet you could imagine
you have never seen a more medically healthy dog.
And she ADORES Will
Partially because of how calmer Nico is with him, and partially because he keeps a treat jar in the infirmary now.
The best part! she cannot die (from old age at least) Immortal service dog!
Having a huge fluffy head is great for pressure therapy.
Nico (neurodivergent) likes the texture of her fur and stims by petting her or playing with her ears.
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lilac-5ky · 7 months
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Holed Up (Husband!Toji x Fem!Reader)
mini kinktober tribute: stuck in a wall/hole
plot: you should've known that asking Toji to help you out of a hole would lead him inside another—or that time you got stuck in the dog house and he bailed on you for KFC.
tags: MDNI, stuck in a wall/hole, pet play (kinda), breeding, doggy style, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spanking, pet names (bitch, baby), established relationship, crack plot, unsolicited kfc orders, i promise toji loves reader, he's just joking guys.
wc: 2.2k
Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist | AO3
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“Whatcha doing?”
Sarcasm rolls from your husband’s tongue as he stares down at you. Back arched, knees bent, and head encased by wooden planks. Not the most flattering position to be found in, especially with how the light autumn breeze blows at your dress and parts its layers, opening a window to the pink panties of your choice.
His question feels excessive. He knows exactly what you are doing. It was only this morning that you asked him to dig poor ol’ Mister Stinky’s remains from the dog house and he claimed he’d rather buy his son a replacement. No arguing there, but should Megumi see what became of his favored stuffed animal—fuzzy entrails gutted out of the frog’s shredded belly in a path initiating from his bedroom—he’ll be having nightmares for weeks to come.
Besides, you doubt synthetic is the kind of fiber your vet prescribed for your puppy's diet.
“What you should’ve done instead.” You finally spit out, contempt over what Toji’s long fingers could’ve accomplished without him needing to stick half his body into a hole like your, admittedly, dumbass self did.
“For thirty minutes straight? Damn, seems I overestimated ya.”
Even though your view of him is limited to a pair of overworn black slippers, you can vividly picture his scarred lips pulling over his teeth in another of his complacent smirks that scream I told you so.
“Don’t have anything better to do than time me?”
“Nah,” Toji drawls. “Grew tired of waiting on ya, so I thought I’d come see how it’s going.”
“It’s going great!” You lie through your teeth. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see how non-great this is going. “Anything else you need?”
“Well it is noon.” He points out.
“And?”
“And my darling wife’s out ‘ere, rolling in the mud when she should be having lunch with me.”
A snort flares in your nostrils. He is unbelievable.
“What a cute way of letting me know you’re hungry, Toji. You know, if you’d actually helped, I would’ve had the time to set the table and give Mister Stinky a proper burial, but I can’t do both at the same time, can I?”
“Mhm, so how ‘bout we help each other?” He suggests, undeterred. “I get your ass out, and you cook us somethin’ tasty real quick.”
“Wh-who said I was stuck? I can get out whenever I want.”
“Really, huh? What keeps ya from getting out this instant, then?”
“I don’t want to.” You answer wryly. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and I could use some time for myself.”
“In the dog house.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He’s not buying an ounce of what you’re selling. “C’mon, don’t be stubborn. You’ll end up reeking of dung if ya stay here a minute longer. Lemme give ya a hand.”
You know that accepting his help comes at the exorbitant price of utter humiliation, but he’s got a point. Last night’s downpour emanates strongly from the saturated wood, a dizzying smell that turns overwhelming when combined with the strong odor of what you sincerely hope is not piss. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing, and there’s more dirt in your nails than if you dug a grave barehanded. Right now, a day in the bathtub seems like a panacea for your every issue.
Almost.
Kissing your teeth, you resign with a long-drawn sigh that’s barely audible over the rumble in your stomach. You shouldn���t have skipped breakfast.
A moment passes before you hear the crunch of leaves as they rustle beneath his feet; see a second pair of knees take place between your own. Then it’s two hands gripping at your hips, and eventually, a face—your husband’s handsome face that beams with a smug smile and eyes of mischief.
“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.” He greets, though you doubt he sees your face with all the hair that’s curtaining over your eyes while you hang upside down.
“What are you doing, Toji?” You recycle his question in an aggravated tone that fizzles out the second you feel his thumb press against your panties and tug the fabric to the side.
“Nothin’. Just curbing my hunger.” His finger teasingly glides across your nether lips and lands at your clit, while a palm large enough to envelope both your ass and cunt kneads at the tender flesh he’s offered. “Fridge’s empty, so.”
“This isn’t funny!”
“‘m not laughing, but c’mon. You hafta admit it’s pretty damn funny.” Warm air wafts from Toji’s mouth as he inches closer to your thighs. “Y’always whine when I fuck you from behind, but now? Look at you. Bent on all four like a real bitch.”
“T-Toji!”
Your breath hitches in your throat as he slides two fingers in your hole, languidly scissoring them in and out until there’s enough slick to lather your clit with. He circles around the nub while his fingers prod deeper inside, the icy touch of his wedding band clashing with the heat that sparks through your body when he bottoms out. A smothered moan gains echo as it bounces off the walls and into his ears.
“Such a well-trained pup,” Toji praises, retrieving his palm to lick his fingers. “Might win yourself a collar at this rate.”
You bite back your tongue before it can react to his backhanded comment, reminding yourself that you’re still outside, right where your neighbors can peek over the white picket fence for a quick hello and catch you slutting yourself out on your husband’s fingers.
“Can’t we continue this inside? Mrs. Honda is right next door, and M-Megumi—” You stutter when his palm returns to your body, its twin joining in spreading your cheeks further apart.
“Kid’s at school for another hour,” Toji mumbles, his hot tongue parting your folds with a long stroke that has your knees buckling. “So fuckin’ good,” he groans, his nose buried between your two holes while he lazily laps at your juices. “That sweet cunt is the reason why I married ya.”
You keen to his touch, hips bucking into his mouth, and walls clenching for more. “Only reason?”
“Nah. Consider that tight little ass as the second.”
His fingers burrow into the supple skin to squeeze at it, only lifting to deliver playful smacks that cause your ass to jiggle against his face. He growls into your pussy, mouthing all sorts of filth that gets drowned by your moans. It feels so good when he eats you out—it always does—but the probability of being caught in such a compromising position adds to the excitement.
The hand that’s trapped with you inside your pet’s house scratches at the wood, while the other rakes at the soil for grounding. Your orgasm creeps up on you, turning your vision blurry and tinting the darkness of space with colored specks. You are so close; all he needs to do is keep swirling at your clit, swallowing the entire bundle of nerves in his mouth, and sucking hard until—
“Ah, right.” He stops, words slurring from the threads of saliva that link his mouth with your cunt. “You said ya wanted time with yourself.”
Anger washes over you in place of the orgasm you were robbed of, the pleasurable fireworks traded for the obnoxious red alarm that goes off in your brain. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right fucking now, the only lunch you’ll be seeing is KFC buckets for the rest of your life!”
A low chuckle falls flat from his lips. “Three. I love that snappy mouth ‘f yours.”
In an attempt to meet his eyes, you duck between your legs. Your hair mops the floor as you watch him pull down his pants and boxers, the last thing you see before blood shoots up in your head being the hard cock that dangles out of reach. The heat in your stomach stirs at the sight, anticipation building rapidly when you feel him run the reddened tip between your puffy folds.
“Sure you don’t want it here?” Toji taps his cock against your ass hole and your entire body jolts in response, a loud Toji amusing rather than deterring him. “A’right, a’right! Gotcha the first time.”
His profound dream of burying himself nine inches deep into your ass crumbles as he aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy. You brace yourself, patiently awaiting that initial sting that never goes away; no matter how many times he fucks you or how diligently he preps you, the thickness of his girth always threatens to split you in half.
But now he’s stalling, a complacent smile sitting on his lips while he contemplates your silence. “Bet you’re red as a beet in there, aren’t ya?”
He plunges himself inside before you are given the chance to either prove or disprove him, a silent scream punched from your throat as his cock rams straight into your g-spot. He huffs a deep breath, barely keeping a groan bottled, when he feels your walls tighten around him. It’s suffocating. Wet, and tight—a little similar to what being stuck in that small space feels like for you, but infinitely more pleasurable for him.
"Mm, such a sloppy little cunt. Got yourself stuck in there for this, didn't ya?"
His fingers latch onto your hips, bruising you as his nails dig meanly into your skin. He drags his cock halfway out of your cunt only to snap his hips back in, picking up a pace that ramps up over time. His quick thrusts fuck you further into that hole, your tits bouncing and slapping against the hard wooden planks while your dress rides higher to expose your back.
Toji bends your body into an arch, a heavy palm situated on your stomach until you’re able to hold the position on your own.
“Like it when your husband fucks ya like a bitch?” He grunts, catching the hand that’s squirming on the grass beside him and twisting it behind your back. “Pounded in broad daylight f'everyone to see how dumb you get over my dick, huh?"
Your whimpers don’t go unnoticed by him. He laughs at the high pitch your voice has assumed, babbling his name an incomprehensible amount of times that exceeds the frequency with which his swollen cock head kisses your pulsing core. You can't think enough to reply, and you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.
He smacks your ass loud enough for you to whine, alerting every last neighbor in the block to what is happening in their quaint suburban neighborhood. “Answer me.”
“Yes, Toji—fuck, love how big it feels.” Your thoughts stem from your pussy without being filtered by your brain. All your body knows is how badly it needs to be pushed over the edge, disregarding the scornful looks you’ll definitely be receiving at the next neighborhood watch assembly.
“That’s not what I asked.” Toji smacks your ass again, softer this time—or so it feels because of your numbing skin. “I asked, Who owns this pussy, mm?”
“That’s not what you asked at all!” Your talking back earns you a third spank. You realize you’ve got no agency of your own.
“Won’t ask again. Who. Owns. This. Pussy?” He punctuates each word with a thrust sharper than the one before, his cock twitching when he hears you screaming your answer at the top of your lungs.
“You do, T-Toji. My pussy is yours—ngh!”
“And who’s bitch are you, baby?”
“Your bitch!” You answer willingly, your mind clouded, and your logic dulled. “Fuck, Toji, you know I’m all yours.”
“Damn right, y’are.” He hums in response, hunching over your body to rub tight circles around your clit, jerking the nub up and down, round and round.
You’re almost there, and when he asks you whether you wanna be bred like one, the tension in your gut finally snaps, eyes involuntary crossing as white waves of pleasure overtake you.
He fucks you through your high at an animalistic pace, the thought of filling your belly with a baby that’s half his and half yours flooding his brain before your answer registers, his cum spilling deep within your pussy with a few sloppy pumps that squelch to the sound of your mixed fluids.
His moans mingle with yours, the rough sound of his voice raising goosebumps from where he kisses your back to the resounding ringing in your ears. He wraps his arms around you almost tenderly, peppering your back with kisses that almost convince you he’ll finally pull you out of that miserable hell hole but that’s not his intention. It never was.
A final smack meets with your ass right before he rolls his pants back up and walks toward the house, undisturbed by the screams that follow close on his trail.
“You said you’d get me out of here!” Your fist hits the ground, finges clenching around a tuft of grass blades that you violently root out.
“And you said you can get out whenever ya want. That you needed time for yourself, ‘member?”
“I didn’t mean that!” You object, your tone too squeaky to be taken seriously. “Toji, you’d better help me or else—”
“Or else what? KFC until I die?” He snorts. “Relax, I’ll come back before Megumi gets ‘ere.” You hear his phone buzzing as he—presumably—punches something in his search bar. Hot wings don’t sound too bad; he whispers for himself to hear, speaking up only when he asks you if you want him to order you a twister wrap or something before he closes his order.
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a/n: the episode excited me too much, apologies. i was gonna post this later asdfghjkl but toji is back and we cum.
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yanderecrazysie · 3 months
Text
Twisted Zoo (Prologue)
Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 
Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.
WARNINGS: none for now
Note: This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui except I decided to take it a step further and include all the dorms. I know that a lot of these animals don’t fit them perfectly, but I did the best I could. I left out Ortho because he has no age and he looks really young so… no.
All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.
Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.
Chapter One here
—----------------------
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Crowley.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. (Y/n)!”
You smiled up at your new boss, taking in his eccentric appearance- everything from his crow feather-lined cape, to his sparkling suit, to his top hat, and to the black bird mask that covered half his face. 
That name suits him.
“Now, you’re mainly a researcher, but you will also be assisting with some of the general chores, such as feeding the animals,” Mr. Crowley explained what you already knew.
“That’s alright,” you said, smiling brightly, “That will allow me to observe even more of their behaviors.”
You were fresh out of college and ready to face The Halfling Zoo. There was plenty of debate whether it was okay to treat half-humans as animals and keep them in a zoo, but it was convenient for you. You didn’t have to travel the world to attempt to study animals from afar through a camera lens.
“You will be supervising the lion and hyena exhibit, the wolf exhibit, the panther and tiger exhibit, the bird exhibits, the reptile house, and the aquarium,” Mr. Crowley explained.
“Wait, did you mean to say the lions and hyenas are together? And the panthers and tigers? Or did I misunderstand?” you asked, confused.
“They are bonded groups, so it would be wrong to separate them,” Crowley explained, “Halflings don’t always act like their animal counterparts.”
You nodded, cursing yourself internally. You had learned that on your first day at college! How could I be so stupid to forget about the bonds different Halfling species make?
“Follow me,” Mr. Crowley’s voice broke through your thoughts, “I’ll show you around.”
The two of you left the cramped office in the main staff building and headed out onto the guests’ paths. You could see a few families walking by- less than usual, since it was nearing closing time. It felt as though the sky was growing darker by the minute as the sun made its way down the horizon, beautiful orange and pink clouds lighting its path.
You almost immediately arrived at the lion and hyena exhibit. It was a huge enclosure, the terrain so detailed that you felt as though you had stepped straight into an African savannah. In fact, you could even feel the heat emanating from the ground itself.
“We keep it as hot as their home naturally is,” Mr. Crowley explained, reading your thoughts, “They’re happy here- it’s home with no need to hunt to survive.”
You nodded, but inside you wondered if that was really true or not. Were they really happier in a giant cage on display for humans than they were in Africa? You couldn’t imagine feeling that way.
Mr. Crowley pointed out a big rock where a pride of lions had gathered, “On top of that rock is the top dog- er, cat, I mean. The king of the jungle.”
Upon closer inspection, and a lot more eye strain, you could make out a figure lying on the top of the large rock. It was a Lion Halfling, with tan skin and thick, dark mane of brown hair that fell to his shoulders, except for the braids in front of his face, which were even longer. You could just make out the lion’s ears on top of his head and the lion’s tail draped over the rock’s side.
“And those are the hyenas,” Mr. Crowley supplied, pointing to the edge of the enclosure, “They’re used to aggressive females, so the males might be a little jumpy around you.”
You remembered reading about that in school, but it was amazing to see all the Halflings in person. You couldn’t help but feel excited to study them up close. Imagine if you made a big discovery that no one else had ever discovered about Halflings! After all, there were a lot of unknowns about them.
“Onto the wolf exhibit!” Mr. Crowley said in a sing-song voice.
The enclosure was right across the way from the lions and hyenas, but it had a completely different feel. The air was cooler when you walked up to the giant forest. Through the trees, it was difficult to actually see any wolf halflings. You thought you saw a flash of white, but it was too quick to tell.
“Yes, well, this exhibit is pretty quiet during the day,” the zoo director said awkwardly, “They’ll be out tonight, howling at the moon and whatnot.”
“Wolves don’t actually howl at the moon,” you helpfully supplied, “They howl to communicate with other wolves.”
Mr. Crowley stared at you for a moment and you wondered if you had annoyed him, until he grinned widely, “Such a knowledgeable new researcher!”
You smiled at the compliment, a little embarrassed as the two of you headed for the panther and tiger exhibit. You were surprised to see it alive with Halflings, all of them staring back at the two of you with narrowed eyes.
“There’s two black panthers,” Mr. Crowley pointed them out, “and two albino tigers. The four of them are as thick as thieves.”
You cautiously waved at them, but they merely turned away and disappeared into the jungle enclosure. You wondered if they were somehow curious to see you, or if they always did this to guests.
“Next, the bird exhibits!” Mr. Crowley led the way to the aviary. He pointed out Halflings left and right in the closely-packed enclosures, “A parrot, three albino peacocks, two flamingos, an owl, and a raven. You’ll get to know them well, since they’re mostly all very friendly. Except the peacocks are a little cocky.”
You giggled a little and waved to all the birds. It was a futile effort, because, save for the owl halfling, they were all fast asleep. The owl halfling stayed on his perch, wings tucked around his body, his bespectacled face scrutinizing you. Not in a rude way, just sort of deciding what you were.
You followed Mr. Crowley into a heated building with a glass wall on one side. You peered through the glass wall and immediately spotted the Boa Constrictor Halfling lying against the wall. Human until the torso, which then winded into a snake tail.
“Don’t be fooled!” Mr. Crowley said, “There is more than one snake in that exhibit. See if you can spot it.”
You looked at every angle, struggling to spot anything different. Then, a part of the sand moved and two gray eyes glared back at you.
“A Viper Halfling, right?” you said in awe, “Aren’t those venomous?”
“Ah, yes, well,” Mr. Crowley stuttered a little, “Don’t get bitten.”
You stared at him for a moment before it sunk in. All of these animals, except the birds, were extremely dangerous! And you were going to go into their enclosures to study and feed them? Were you insane?
You pushed down the panic and took a deep breath. This is what you signed up for. You probably already waived all your rights away anyway. You hadn’t looked at the fine print of your contracts, of course.
You noticed another tank on the other side of the room and walked up to it. You couldn’t see anything inside this one, but Mr. Crowley was quick to explain, “There’s a salamander in this one. A beautiful electric blue, but extremely shy.”
You peered inside, trying to catch a glance of blue, but you couldn’t see a thing.
“Lastly, the aquarium,” Mr. Crowley clapped his hands together, as though to bring you back to reality. 
The aquarium was a huge glass tank where visitors could go down the stairs and see inside. The two of you walked by it, and saw very little signs of life. 
“You’ll probably see the eel twins a bit. They’re a little shy at first, but Floyd is pretty playful. The octopus, on the other hand, rarely leaves his cave. He’ll venture out to eat, but that’s about it. We should have made that damn thing see-through, but it’s too late now.”
You were glad it was a normal cave, and not transparent like the glass. The Octopus Halfling probably felt safe inside it. It wouldn’t be fair to rob him of that simple pleasure.
“That’s the end of your tour, young lady,” Mr. Crowley said cheerfully, “You start bright and early tomorrow, have a long lunch break, then leave late at night. Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
He looked down at you with a hint of nervousness, as though he expected you to say “no”. But you were determined and excited to explore what your classes had trained you for. Real life application.
“I’m ready!”
Note: So, some of the animals are obvious, but I’m wondering what you all think the others are?
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rxzennia · 9 days
Text
picky eater
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 leviathan? dog under the table! avvy, won’t you come home in 18 hours 30 minutes? final tribute to you before your release <3
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aventurine shows up in your office without knocking, as he often does. you look up from your work, raising a brow – you’ve gotten so used to him doing this that you’ve given up asking him what he wants altogether.
“what, i can’t even visit my own secretary?” he teases, trotting up to your desk and setting down a delicate bag of… something. “lunch, my dear, lunch. you skipped it again, didn’t you?”
you ignore his pet name for you and stare at the bag, then at him, then back at the bag
it’s quite endearing how he tries to make sure you eat regularly
even though your composition doesn’t quite need you to eat the way other people do
not that you can’t, you just don’t really need to, so you don’t
it’s just less effort for you and more efficiency
but who are you to deny your boss’s goodwill?
“thank you,” you say, giving the entire bag a quick sniff. “the usual?”
“the usual.” he confirms
more like if he gets anything else there’s quite a high chance that you won’t like it
he’s realized that you’re picky as hell
even though you literally eat monsters for fun 
okay, maybe not for fun
his point still stands, though
when it comes to your taste buds they’re the most hard to please things ever
it’s okay, someday he’ll find your favorite foods
in the meantime he’ll keep getting you stuff he knows you’ll eat
this information is obtained through trial and error, by the way
read: a lot of trials and a lot of errors. mostly errors
you flash him a small smile under your scarf
he doesn’t miss it; he’s known how to read your expressions by the changes in your eyes now
you set your papers aside and carefully put the few boxes of takeout on your desk
you have limited space on your desk because of the way you set it up
you don’t like big, wide spaces
when you finally pull down your scarf, aventurine’s entire person lights up with joy.
“what?” you ask, because he looks like that every time he sees your face.
“nothing,” aventurine chuckles, “just thinking about how you used to kick me out whenever you had to take off your scarf.”
you look at him from the corner of your eyes, your spoonful of rice half-raised
you are unimpressed
“would you like me to kick you out?” you offer very kindly
so cold
but he knows you’re not actually going to kick him out
still. so cold.
“hey, i brought you food!” he whines
you nod in agreement. “and i said thank you.”
why are you like this
please, as much as he loves these back-and-forths with you, have some mercy
then again the sight of you eating well is really heartwarming
plus the fact that he’s the one who's treating you
worth it 10/10
you’re using utensils like everyone else, but somehow you still eat really quickly?
what in the sorcery
you finish the contents in the boxes that smell familiar
the trustworthy boxes™ 
and that leaves you with… one delicate little box
it smells… ominous. like a crime against your tongue.
you look at aventurine with doubt in your eyes. what is he trying to feed you this time?
“cake,” he says, “i asked around for the best cafe in town.”
“you asked topaz.” you slowly take off the ribbon and open the box.
ouch, must you be so truthful?
because who else is he supposed to go to for these things?
it’s not like he can just ask anyone!
and he really wants to know your preference towards sweet things
you’ll eat very, very lightly sweetened things
but what about proper dessert? 
you’re gentle towards the box; you’re staring at the canary-shaped cake
more examining than staring, actually
seems like you appreciate intricately decorated things
he’s making a mental list of things you like and don’t like
even though you’re not very cooperative with him on this
like
c’mon, he wants to know everything about you! he wants to treat you right! let him!!!
(you do not know of the existence of such a list)
you pick up the mini cake and sniff it
pokes it with your tongue when you think it passes your sniff test
sweet, but nothing too bad so far
time to take it further
you try a tiny bite in the corner
your senses get assaulted by sugar, if that even makes sense
no. 0/10 would not recommend.
but you keep your face blank so as to not be blatantly obvious
“hmm.” you set the pastry down on your desk like you’re deep in thought.
“how is it? you like it?” aventurine awaits your answer eagerly, watching you closely. a little too closely, to be honest.
“please do not ever visit that store for cakes again.” you say, getting a spoonful of the unbitten side and offering it to your boss. “mm.”
you’re telling him to try it? 
the way you’re asking is so adorable
not even words, just a little hum and a small wave of the spoon
he does have a try of the cake
and have you feed him while he’s at it
very happy right now
would be better if the cake wasn’t sugared like it’s a day’s calories concentrate
he understands your response now
trying his best to not cringe
also knows to never ask topaz for dessert recommendations again
“if you don’t like it, let’s just toss it out,” he suggests, because he wouldn’t be able to stomach that either
no
you got this from him
territorial snake moment when he tries to take it from your hands
you hiss
jumpscare, he did not expect that
also oddly happy that you’re protective of the stuff he gives you
also concerned
“you’re not going to force yourself to eat that, are you…?” 
“what are you saying, of course not,” you say, setting the barely-eaten canary cake on your desk all the while keeping aventurine’s hands away from it. 
then your scarf comes and swallows the thing in one gulp.
what.
“it…” aventurine points a shaky finger at the white fabric that morphed into a faceless serpent’s head at the ends. “it ate it? just like that?”
“if it can swallow monsters whole, it can eat an overly sweet cake.” you shrug, finally wiping your mouth and pulling your scarf back up.
aventurine’s jaw would be on the floor if it was physically possible. unfortunately, it isn’t. “i thought you could still taste when your scarf eats things?” 
“monsters.” you reply, patting your scarf as it settles into a regular piece of cloth again, “it tastes monsters. not food.”
so that's how you managed to finish even the things you absolutely hate? by having your scarf eat it?
aeons, there’s still so much he has yet to learn about you, isn't there?
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grief when you’re not in the physical vicinity of where the thing happened is such a disorientating experience, especially if you’d gotten used to them being there when you weren’t
#so my sisters dog had to get put to sleep yesterday#she was only two and a half but she had a lot of illnesses and had been seizing pretty much non stop the whole week. my sister swore that#she would never put her to sleep since my family dog was and it was awful so for her to have decided to do it was huge#and really shows how bad a place the dog was in cause that dog was her everything#but since i’m not home i just feel really disconnected from it. like i just feel like i haven’t realised she’s gone?#like i’ve seen her ill but because of the way my uni terms worked out i always missed the worst of it#like i had to move back to uni a week after she first got ill and so in my head she’s still starting to get better#cause holy shit she was doing so much better. she was walking again even if she couldn’t walk in a straight line bless her#and i know they would’ve deffo made the right choice but i’m just not processing it at all#but yeah it got me thinking about the fact that i still think of my family dog as alive when i’m not home#like splodge is still there? like when i go back home i don’t expect him to be there but when i’m at uni he is#cause he has been since i was 4 and even though it’s been more than a year now of course he’s still there#looking back i think i was like this with my grandad too#but not when he died but when he had to be moved into assisted living#cause that was the point we knew he wasn’t there anymore even if his body was still going#cause the only name he remembered was simon fucking cowell lmao#but yeah#idk why i’m typing this it’s just odd#cause the only thing i can think that ties these is i never saw the body#i couldn’t go with my dog when he was put to sleep because i was too upset and knew i’d have tried to talk my parents out of it#and then didn’t see him till they got the ashes and i never went to see my grandads body#and then i’ve not been there to see my sisters dog#*dog#i can’t tell if it autocorrected to something cause i’m on mobile#but yeah at least i’ve got contact with people through the phone considering how shit this has been to not have that kind of access and#be expected to process something like that is terrifying#actually wrote something
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creepling · 2 months
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ dating digger harkness headcanons
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this is a very specific reader because i love the idea of this grimy hobo having a cute, smart girly partner that is the candy floss to his raccoon energy OKAYYY. also tcm shenanigans will be back shortly, i just had to give some love to a dc rogue like the old times<33
tags: feminine reader (wears dress, skirt, heels, mild makeup and has breasts and v) but gn pronouns. sugar daddy digger if you squint. reader is a jailbird. cuddling. pet name: birdie. smut under the cut - minors dni. polaroid nudes. (m) masturbation. thoughts of: oral (m receiving) and cowgirl.
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If you were to ask Digger the first thing he noticed about you, his caveman mind would be objectifying. But your ass did look very flattering in your skirt and the smile you shot his way was the cherry on top. He likes them sweet and innocent, you like them rugged and dangerous. It was a match made in hell heaven.
After a few dates spent in dingy pubs and lover’s lanes, he was enamoured by you. He’s never had someone look at him the way you do. Eyes full of light, glistening at the sight of him. You always welcomed him with open arms, practically throwing yourself at him. He liked how easy you were to pick up, and the way you wrapped your limbs around him. How your soft skin blushes red against his scruffy neck. No matter the setting, you sat so close to him that you were more or less on his lap. He wraps his arms around you, or has a hand on your thigh, letting nearby acquaintances know you belong together. Digger thinks to himself, “I got so fucking lucky.”
His love languages are primarily gift-giving and physical touch. More times than you can count, Digger has fallen asleep on top of you. Either on the couch, while watching a movie or he found a way to snake between your legs while sleeping, he has a habit of using you like a pillow. You developed a kinship in moments like this where you play with his hair, massaging your fingers into the nape of his neck or twirling the strands that curtain his temples. You muse at his sleep-full hums, watching this rogue unwind under your touch, satisfied like a dog receiving pets. The gift-giving is when his rogue side is on high voltage. He wants to give you the world, shower you with jewels, let you wear the best of gear. “You want diamonds? Yeah, I’ll get you diamonds,” He’ll muse, mixing his pleasures with yours. When he robs a bank, the majority of his stolen dollars has been spent on you since you met him. Did your car get towed? He bought you a new one, along with the insurance. Need a new dress for the weekend? He’s got you sorted, along with heels and a bag to match. “Can’t have my bird in peasant clothes!” He protests, “Not with that cracken’ bod.” Queue the wink.
He loves showing you off, chuffed that he proved his doubters wrong that he could settle down and have a gorgeous significant other. “What they see in you, I don’t know . . .” They say, whether that be Deadshot, King Shark, heck even Amanda is amazed by it. He keeps candid polaroids of you in his pocket on the job, looking at them when he misses you. He squeezes the unicorn plushie you gifted him when he is stressed, anything to feel your presence when you’re half the world away. A shit-eating grin on his face when people tease him about his love for you, using it to embarrass him. “Awh, it’s puppy love,” Harley cooes, and Digger nods, all chuffed with himself.
Digger gave you the nickname “Birdie” because well . . . You’re a jailbird. He is in prison for heinous crimes, after all! Oh, is he touched-starved when you’re standing there, pretty face to the phone, separated by glass and talking in your voice that melts him like butter. His eyes are eating you up, desperate to have his hands on you. He’ll do all the suicide missions going to shred off the jail time, to get closer to the day his lips are kissing yours. Blackmailing Amanda to get you the best of the best, pay off college debt, holidays abroad, and spoil you when he cannot. “Oh, Birdie, when I get out of here I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re stuck with me.” He groans, drunk on love. All you do is smile, sliding a pack of Polaroids under the screen when the guards aren’t looking. “Have these to tide you over in the meantime,” you tease. Digger rushes back to his cell, flipping through the photos. First were of you in dresses that were his favourites, the type of ones that are flowy and floral, framing you so delicately. They get more desirable as he flips them over, and his eyes lull in lust.
Digger loves the dirty photos you send him, it drives him fucking insane. It’s good to keep you fresh in his mind, but it borders on teasing just having you to look at. He didn’t have the brightest imagination, but this was good practice. Imagine how soft your thighs are under his callous hands, what your lips taste like with the lipgloss you have on. Your delicate hands trace his bulge, your touch replacing his heavy-handed grasp. Bucking into your hands as he sucks your breasts, teasing your nipples, muttering how perfect you are. His sweet little birdie, all belonging to him. Your eagerness proves your devotion. You take his infamous size so well, your spit coating his cock as your tongue swirls around his pulsing tip. As he wanks himself off, muffling his groans, he has the faintest memory of your cunt. How wet you always were for him, how eager you bounced on his cock. His eyes closed as he pumped his cock faster, edging to the echoes of past moans you chanted in his ear.
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loveshotzz · 8 months
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12 -mutual masturbation while camping in a tent. 
maybe tough girl finally gets to go on the annual camping trip :)
A/N:Thank you for your request angel, the way I had to write this immediately. I love this, I love you and I love them. 💗 this request comes from my completed series All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand alone. All you need to know is he calls you Tough Girl, you’ve been dating a year and he’s got a dog named Bandit.
wc: 2k
warnings: 18+, established relationship, age gap (reader is 30 and Steve is 42) slight somno I guess? reader is touching herself but not him, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, semi public.
AIRWIY!older!steve x fem! reader
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The birds chirping stirs you first, the sunlight leaking through the half opened flap at the front of the tent, second. Eyes shifting behind closed lids that aren’t ready to open yet, the soft sound of Steve’s slumbered breathing next to you brings the beginning of a smile tugging up at the corners of your lips. The clinking of metal from Bandit’s leash outside is what finally gets you to open your eyes. You’d heard Steve in a daze take him out to pee before letting him bring in the sunrise outside the tent, quickly realizing this was the dog’s favorite part of these getaways.
The air mattress makes a noise that has you cringing when you roll over on the spread out sleeping bags to get a better look at him, the fresh humidity making your skin stick to it. You can’t stop that sigh that slips past your lips at the sight as he takes up room on his back. His permanent bed head is even messier than normal from a night under the stars with your hands in his hair and the stubble that lines his jaw rubbing the inside of your thighs raw. Rejuvenated after a shower that washed off the first two days of the trip.
The streaks of gray that sprinkle through his honey locks stand out even more in the daylight. The crows feet and laugh lines that you’d like to think got deeper in his first year with you are smoothed out in his sleep. You can’t help but wonder what he’s dreaming about, secretly hoping it’s you and not just the morning that has the blood rushing south.
His chest is bare, the dark thatch of hair in the middle looking soft in the warm light, the moles and freckles that dot his tan skin beg to be kissed, just like the sun had the pleasure of doing all weekend. One leg is kicked out of the covers, revealing a low hanging pair of black mesh shorts giving you a peek at the faint hint of a tan line from your days hiking down to the lake. A big hand lays spread across his stomach while the other looks like it got halfway across the small space between you on the search for yours before he fell back asleep.   
Your thighs press together in your small sleep shorts, searching for some kind of friction that you know won’t be enough for the low simmer that’s already started deep in your gut. Why did he always have to look so good? 
Steve licks his full lips, and you can’t help the way your hand starts to wander towards the ache between your legs that’s begging for attention. Fighting with your self control, your nerves ring in your ears and you swear the birds outside get louder when the tips of your fingers start to play with your waist band. 
You freeze when he grunts, blunt nails scratching his stomach making the muscles in his pecs flex. The slight pinch of his brows when something happens in his dream is enough for you to push past the elastic, your fingertips meeting your already dripping folds with a shaky breath through your nose.
Your hips roll, your pointer and index finger spreading your lips apart before the pads of them catch your bundle of nerves when you drag them back up with enough pressure to make you whimper. They don’t feel as good as his, and your heavy lidded gaze focuses on his hand spread across his stomach as you add a third finger to try and mimic the feeling. It’s almost enough and it makes you have to bite your lip to keep quiet, the sound of how wet you already are is almost enough to compete with the growing sounds of the woods coming alive.
“Fuck - honey,” Steve’s voice startles you, thick with sleep and the unmistakable gravel of want, “Why didn’t you wake me up if you needed me so bad huh?”
Your eyes meet his, and all you can do is whine in response when you see all the colors usually inside of them first thing in the morning are gone. The bright greens and gold specks are replaced with something dark and hungry, jaw a little slack while his own hand reaches down, squeezing his now fully hard length over his shorts to relieve some of the throb.  
“You know I’d never say no to you,” He whispers, his own hips rocking into his palm. You start to push two fingers in, your greedy walls fluttering despite the embarrassment of being caught making heat rise to your cheeks.  “What’s got you so worked up baby?”
He pushes his shorts half way down his hairy thighs, the full thickness of his cock smacking against the dark trail on his stomach. Already leaking, the fat tip of him looks angry as he wraps his fingers around the base, the pad of his thumb swiping over the top making him shudder. He pumps once, twice before rolling over on his side, kicking his shorts all the way off along with the blanket exposing you both to the morning air.
“Come on, don’t be shy now.” He’s closer like this, your noses almost touching and you can smell last night's bonfire still lingering. His eyes roam your body while his wrist sets a slow pace watching your nipples pebble under the thin fabric of your tank when a light breeze ruffles the walls of your tent. 
“Y-you - you just looked so good.” Your confession sounds pathetic, but it makes his eyes squeeze shut and a deep breath exhale through his nose, cock twitching in his big hand before he opens them again. 
He leans in so his lips ghost against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom one before licking into your mouth to steal your breath with the kind of kiss that was usually reserved for late nights after a couple of bottles of wine. 
“Take your shorts off, be good for me and let me see honey.” He pants, already wrecked, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before shifting to sit up, the air mattress making you bounce with the redistribution of his weight giving him the perfect view down every curve and dip of your body. 
Listening to him, you feel more exposed than ever with your legs spread wide despite no one being around. Steve groans at the visual of you like this, the motions of his wrist getting quicker while his free hand reaches down to pull up your tank by the hem, the soft fat of your breasts spilling out for his hungry eyes. It feels dirty and new, touching yourself like this for him and it only adds to the growing slick between your thighs.
“God, I’m so lucky - can’t believe you're mine. Wakin’ up to you like this? So damn pretty, baby - shit.” He groans, already babbling, squeezing hard at the base of his cock when he sees your arousal gleam in the sunlight every time you pull your fingers out, drunk off watching them disappear again.
“I want you all the fucking time, Steve.” You whine hips pushing up when you add a third one, back arching when he tweaks one of your nipples.
“Yeah?” He asks before spitting into his hand, the slick sounds of his palm working his length even harder blending in with the messy way your walls suck you in. “Tell me about it.”
You nod, completely gone by hearing him talk to you like this, curving your fingers just right to hit the spot that makes you keen. A strangled noise leaving his throat when he clocks the way your thighs start to shake, your mind racing with thoughts of him. He needs you to come soon, and when he sees the pad of your thumb start to rub messy circles on your puffy clit he knows he doesn’t have to hold off for very long.
“You’re just so sexy all the time,” it’s your turn to babble and the breathy laugh that leaves him makes you clamp around your fingers even tighter despite wishing you could roll your eyes, “Those fucking running shorts, your suits, god I want you to bend me over your desk so bad. I think about it all the - ohhhh- a lot.” 
“Jesus - baby, m’gonna have you meet me for lunch when we get back, god wear that short little dress, yeah? I’ll give you what you want, shit - anything you want.” He stutters feeling himself start to get close, your confessions bringing him to the edge. 
“I - mmm- I won’t wear any underwear.” You giggle before your mouth falls open, the band inside of you dangerously close to snapping at the thought of him behind his desk and the predatory way he’d watch the sway of your hips knowing you’re bare and already soaked for him underneath. 
“Dirty girl,” He moans and you hear the back of his head slide against the tent, “my dirty girl.”
Looking up, your eyes roam the way his chest heaves the closer he gets to his climax, sweat beading and starting to drip down his neck where the veins protrude. His gaze is heavy and hot, and it doesn’t leave you, it begs you to fall apart for him. He watches how your eyes glaze over, completely wrecked at the sight of him and the corner of his mouth turns up.
“Gonna be good and come for me now?” It’s soft when he asks despite how filthy the sounds echoing in the tent are, and when you nod with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, his grin widens. “Of course you are, always so good, so sweet.”
The last part comes out strained, his cock twitching catching the way your thighs start to shut when the drag of your fingers in your cunt becomes deliberate. You were close. The hand that he’s kept on the dough of your breast reaches down to pull your knees apart tutting under his breath.
“I wanna see it, let me have it, come on baby.”
His words are enough for you to push your head back into the pillow, your leg fighting against his firm grip to shut as the rubber band finally snaps. His name falls from lips long and drawn out, a high pitch whine that turns into a gasp and a shuddered loud moan when he pushes your hand away to replace it with his. Thick fingers collect everything you give him, pulling even more from you when he dips inside to hit the spot you could barely reach, praising you as you come even harder.
The feeling of your velvet walls squeezing tight around him brings Steve over the edge, gasping your name with a guttural groan that vibrates from his chest as he spills across his thighs and stomach. Chest heaving from the force of it, the visual of you spread out and falling apart for him makes him see white with his release.
The only sounds are your labored breathing, and a forest that’s come alive in the daylight.  You hear Bandit shuffle around to move to another spot following the moving sun as it gets higher in the sky, warming the tent more. Steve is gentle when he pulls out of you, bending down to kiss your sweaty forehead before grabbing his basketball shorts. He chuckles, wiping himself down feeling like a teenager again with nothing else around to clean himself up, your breathy giggle making his teeth shine in a wide grin before he lays himself back down. 
There’s zero hesitation to pull you to his chest despite the growing stickiness with the heat, peppering kisses across your face before collecting your lips in something a little sweeter.
“Morning, tough girl.” 
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months
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May I request the FNAF movie with a reader possessing Sparky? They’re an adult or in their late teens as opposed to the kids. They don’t “wake up” often but when they do they have a commanding presence over the others.
YES thank you for this Sparky ask-
15 year old me would have flipped her lid if she knew a FNAF 1 hoax would become canon in a movie
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........
First...it was the distant muffled screams that awakened your systems, mechanical eyelids slowly fluttering open.
Then..there were louder sounds. Clearer sounds:
A woman's screaming cut short.
Bones crunching.
Flesh squelching.
And finally, something heavy hitting the floor with a thud.
Only then were you fully alert.
As your optics adjusted to the dimness of the backstage room, you realized that it wasn't just the old costumes and springlock suits that were keeping you company.
Freddy was here, too...with half a human corpse laying at his feet.
Your eyes widened out of shock.
Although you've seen him and the others kill before, what he did to that woman was quite abhorrent.
You didn't even think was possible for him to-
"You're awake."
Blinking, your head turned to see the Golden Freddy suit lingering by the door, standing up. His mouth didn't move, but you could tell from his single functioning eye, which was pulsating with a soft blue glow, that the child possessing him was talking to you.
All you could do was glare, your suit's mouth opening. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you letting them act like animals?" Your voice spoke.
In the blink of an eye, he was replaced by a blond boy in a striped shirt. He walked over to you, taking your paw and helping you stand. "It's not me. Some bad people broke in and tried to hurt them. Three others were with her, but they've all been taken care of."
As annoyed as you wanted to be, you knew you couldn't blame them for wanting to protect themselves.
Hell, you didn't even know what fully happened.
Maybe it was justifiable.
"Fine. Bring them here so we can hide the evidence...assuming we have enough room to hide all of it, of course."
The boy just smiled innocently, pointing to where you were sitting.
"Don't worry, there's always enough room for everyone."
You briefly looked to the empty purple Freddy suit that laid in pieces beside you, huffing. "I guess it'll do...I just hope they didn't leave too much of a mess-"
When you looked back to where the boy was, he had vanished completely.
He liked doing that a lot.
You're just relieved that there's at least ONE person you could talk to after being stuck in this pizzeria for.....
For.....
It suddenly occurred to you that you had genuinely forgotten how long you've been here. And the same holds true for the other children...who couldn't even remember their own names anymore. Now they only respond to the names of their characters.
Although there were significant gaps in your memories of being alive, your latest one was of the day you saw a yellow rabbit leading some kids away--taking them one at a time to show them a "backstage tour".
After the fifth one vanished, you followed him, but for some reason....he got angry that you did so.
It's like he didn't want you to see something.
Next thing you knew, you woke up, looking through the eyes of Sparky the Dog--a character you remembered from a diner that once collaborated with Freddy's for a short time.
At some point he was retired, as he kept breaking down while performing to the point where the owner didn't wanna keep repairing him.
And so Sparky--and you--were shoved backstage, being used for nothing more than spare parts.
Unfortunately, that led to you scarcely waking up and roaming like the rest of the Fazbear Band. But whenever you did, they all seemed to listen to you for some reason, doing whatever you asked of them like obedient dogs.
Ironic, considering you were the one possessing a dog.
However it seems you've woken up a tad bit too late this time, as apparently a group of adults have broken into the place, and without your guidance, the gang took it upon themselves to deal with it how ever they could.
But it seems they left quite the bloody mess...or at least Freddy did, given the red stains on his teeth.
You approached him, stopping only to point at the half-eaten body. He seemed to recognize your expression as the "I'm not mad, just disappointed" look, and his ears flattened in slight shame.
If only he could talk to you so he could explain himself..
Before you could give him an order, the doors creaked open, and you both turned around to see Bonnie, Foxy, and Chica slowly filing into the room.
Each of them dragged in their own brutally-slain victim, the intruders he must have been talking about:
Bonnie brought a man who had blood oozing from his mouth, palms covered in the same sticky substance.
Using his bloodstained hook, Foxy struggled to carry the weight of a younger man covered in deep gash marks and bite wounds on his head.
And in Chica's grasp was another man whose face had been chewed off by her Cupcake--arguably the most brutal way a person could die.
All at once, they stopped and dropped the corpses to the ground, staring at you and awaiting further directions.
You assessed each one before turning just your eyes towards the wall where you often sat deactivated, pointing to the various suits laying there.
Immediately, they knew what to do, and you also got to work helping them hide the "evidence" and making these intruders part of the band.
Forever and ever
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chrollohearttags · 6 months
Text
free smoke • portgas d. ace
content + themes: modern au, black!fem reader (also a firefighter), throat fucking, spit play, hate fucking, breeding, full nelson, spanking, shower sex, backshots, mentions of ovulation and pregnancy, missionary, enemies to lovers-ish, daddy’s used, calls reader a slut, brat taming, squirting
📝: firefighter ace is on my mind so enjoy my depravity until I put a proper fic out. (I’m like a sick dog in heat for this man omg) this is like pure filth, look away if it’s not your thing or if you still have a bedtime. In other words, minors, piss off.
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friends…it’d be the last word you’d ever use to describe the relationship between yourself and Portgas D. Ace. Despite working together day in and day out, fighting side by side to save lives regardless of your own safety and practically living underneath the same roof..you couldn’t stand him! Perhaps, even that was being a bit generous. You hated his guts. Granted, he was the man that you received all of your orders from at Fire Company Eight as he was the Vice Fire Captain and you were merely a rookie firefighter; having only joined the five man crew only a year and a half prior.
“Hey, rookie. Grab those boxes from over there and bring them upstairs.”
oh how you despised the moniker..a reminder of his superiority and ranking over you. Sure, he didn’t purposely wave it over your head like some proverbial flag but he certainly didn’t downplay either. He knew how much it ruffled your feathers so he’d repeat it in hopes of getting you agitated and riled up. Almost like clockwork, it done the trick everytime! “I have a name. Why don’t you try using it, asshole..” Oftentimes scoffing over your shoulder with cut eyes and a nasty glare. Even so, with much vitriol and vengeance in your heart, you’d follow his commands. It was no secret among the entire firehouse that you two were sworn enemies..or rather, he was on the receiving end of a one sided grudge. All beginning when you first started here and he treated you as if you were dumb. And it didn’t help that you were the only woman here. Despite graduating top of your class at fire college. The best scores, highest evaluations…none of it meant a thing to him! Your biggest issue with him was that carefree, lackadaisical attitude. Put simply, he was a jackass! He didn’t care about much including someone’s hurt feelings. Especially when he hadn’t done anything except his job. The way he saw it, until you surpassed him in rank, you could get glad in the same damn drawers you got mad in. “I suggest you watch that fucking mouth if you know what’s good for you..”
a warning you’d certainly heed once the rest of the crew heads out on a grocery run. Knowing that they’d be out for at least two hours, stocking up on food and toiletry items for everyone, that left the vice chief ample time to teach you a lesson. He knew your little charade was nothing more than show for the others because the second they were out that door, leaving you two alone, you were both in the shower..relieving those rising tensions..
“Open…there you go—see, you can follow instructions.”
“Fuck you—“
the words spewing like venom shortly before he gags you get again. The steamy droplets of warm water cascading over your nude bodies as they collide in the stand in bath. Your so called sworn enemy cuffing your wrists with one hand as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. His hard cock sliding between your plump lips and silky jaws, drumming up strings of spit..along with loud gagging sounds. All while his six foot four frame stood above you. Only muted by the downpour from the shower head as you sat fatefully on your knees, being used to his leisure. You may have been pretending to be angry and talking all recklessly but he could tell that you were enjoying this just as much as he was. Ace wasn’t fooled by your tough exterior the way everyone else was. Because he knew the one thing you needed above all else..was a good fuck. To be slutted out beyond comprehension; to have so many orgasms, you won’t even have the energy to be a bitch. And who better than to give you the treatment than your beloved boss? Hell, he had done it before. Many times in fact and although it didn’t shut you up for good, the satisfaction of seeing you sprawled and fucked out with his cum inside of you was enough consolation!
Ooh…fuck. You know something, rookie? I think you should’ve took a career in acting instead. Pretending to hate me in front of everyone else but sucking me off in the shower..you’re a strange girl.”
interrupting his praise to lob more saliva into your mouth in the form of a long string. Only to resume his rapid assault of your throat. Taking it all the way to the base..allowing his balls to slap your chin and his abs to brush your forehead, holding it in place until he saw fit. Taking full advantage of your nonexistent gag reflex. He’d withdraw to be met with your messy face and rewarded you with a kiss amid your heavy gasping. Even after working your mouth over and feeding you a couple faint slaps, you still had plenty to say! “Who said I was pretending? I still can’t stand you.” Which was all fine in theory but again, he wasn’t paying your ass any mind. Rather, he wanted to make use of this free time that you were granted and fuck the shit out of you. Tugging you by your arms, Ace swiftly spun you around so that your thick backside was pressed to his pelvis. He didn’t hesitate to impale you on his cock and begin feeding you deep seeded strokes. Your back bent and frame curved into a S shape as he pulled you back by your wrists..the recoil of your plush flesh bouncing against his own and sounding off. That sopping little cunt seeping with cream and slick each time he pounded into you. Ensuring you couldn’t move unless he granted so.
“You sure about that? Could’ve had me fooled, sweetheart…this pussy’s so wet f’r me, I can barely stay in it..”
drumming up a sheath of sticky membrane and more of your beautiful moans. Even drudging up some of his own. Ace would toss his head back and try not to focus too much on the ripple of your plump ass swallowing him whole. He loved the sound, the contrast..he loved how good you felt for him! “Fuuck! Fuck me…oh my gosh..just keep giving me that dick and shut the hell up.”blurting out and whimpering for him without a single thought. His fingers intertwine and clutch around your throat; bringing you back when you tried to run. Seeing as your hair was covered by the silk bonnet atop to your head. “Shit…ain’t gotta tell me twice….so sexy when you talk to me like that.” Spinning you around to kiss once more. Mirroring that of lovers moreso than a couple of people who were just arguing. The collision of skin and loins making it difficult for either of you to conceal your true feeling. Clawing at the tile walls, (y/n) cried out yet again and begged for him to go deeper. Even holding it open once he freed your hands. “That’s right, spread that ass…let me get in it..” grunting into your shoulder blade before forcing you back down. He wasn’t showing you any mercy. Smacking and spanking your cheeks rigorously..leaving stinging marks. “That feel good? Am I in it?..” “..yes, daddy. In my fucking spot..oh my God!” Bringing forth a hearty laugh and lewd feelings from your vice chief. “Daddy, huh? I was an asshole not too long ago. Wonder what changed.” Either way, he loved hearing it come from your mouth!
“C’mere..grab me.” In a moment of haste, the dark haired, dreamy eyed man would twist the faucet off to cease the shower and instruct you to wrap your limbs around him. Which you did so, seeing as how your legs couldn’t stop trembling. He had already worn a sore spot into the pit of your tummy but he was far from finished. Not when he was still throbbing profusely; leaking from that swollen tip when he pulls out of you. However, that doesn’t last long as he’s got to be one with you yet again. The two of you would shuffle back towards the bunk cabins, where two beds resided on each side; one atop the other. For convenience, he’d take the bottom one but not before pounding you all the way there. Hoisting you up midair and slamming you back down on his cock with sheer strength. Your nails digging ferociously into the giant piece of ink on his back; those clear, manicured nails scraping at his tattoo and he was loving every second. “Right there! Fuck!…gonna come..” whimpering into his ear as your face cradled into the crook of his neck. He knew it was a lot, it always but you took it so well..better than any other girl he’d ever fucked. You wrapped around him as if you never wanted him to let go.
“Damn..you’re close, aren’t you, baby? I can feel it..” whispering into your ear as he placed a kiss to your temple as a means to quell your quivering body. That ecstasy was hitting your body like a freight truck and there was no greater sensation. Bringing you to the mattress, Ace maintained his grip on your legs before standing straight back up and letting another line of spit lubricate your folds already sopping folds. Just to really get you shaking, he’d tap that shaft against them before gliding back in. Something about staring into your eyes whilst deep inside of that heat, was so much more raw and intense. You couldn’t hide or pretend anymore. He saw every emotion all over your face. Especially when those strokes were so rhythmic and beautiful, each one connected to your spot. Stroking that sensitive clit, Ace sucked his teeth and kept pushing forth, prompting you to take over holding your calves so that he could give you the brutal fucking you so desperately craved!
“Yeah..take it. Take this fucking dick..you little slut!” Bearing his entire weight down and through gritted teeth, Ace pounded your pussy until the bed frame underneath you was rocking back and forth. Fucking you with his hands cusping your throat. He knew how much it turned you on; apparent by the rampant twitches against his shaft. You’d claw at his wrists as he kept going…taunting you and talking his shit the entire time. He knew he had you exactly where he wanted and wasn’t going to let up until his abs and the floor was left a soaking mess. That deep voice causing pangs in the bottom of your stomach when he yelled at you. Hastily shoving his tongue back into your mouth, the vice captain kept going..despite running on the last of his energy, he’d find himself balls deep in you; practically hurled into a mating press now. Still, he wasn’t stopping until you emptied that sack for him and took every last bit of his nut. And you weren’t too far behind..delirium and cock drunkenness was setting in pretty heavily and you wanted to come for him so badly. Despite not wanting to cave. Hell, he was ducking you down so good, you were ready live in his skin and cook him breakfast! Repeatedly slamming into that core and making you cream for him immensely. Not to mention how erect your nipples were..you were sensitive and by the tears streaming down your face, that let him know one fact:
“Ooh..somebody must be ovulating. No wonder you’ve been such a mess, rookie. You just needed someone to come take care of you, huh?”
cooing to you in a manner that made it impossible to resist his charm. Sticking a thumb between your lips to pacify you, he’d get inside of your head..playing on your insecurities and talking you through those feelings. He could always tell when you were in that mood and when that time of month was near. Either you’d be in the foulest of moods and no one could bother you or you’d pick a fight with him just so he could give you some dick. It was almost like clockwork but he’d give in every single time. How a man that you despised knew you better than any partner you’d ever had was beyond words. Holding your face close, he’d cradle you in his palms and let your gazes meet one last time. When he saw your eyes, they were welled full of tears and brimming with lust. His theory was absolutely correct!
“I know, I know. Just breathe..” talking you through that inevitable orgasm. He’d calm you with reassuring words, kisses to your forehead and regressed strokes. Slowing down so he could meet you right there and you guys could come together. “Same time, okay? You and me.” He’d bog down and hone in for the last minute or so, knowing his climax was growing near. That tip prodded and swollen beyond relief as it oozed precum. Leaking and begging to burst. His full, heavy balls smacking against your asshole with a layer of sticky liquid between them. Clutching the backs of his thighs, (y/n) held him in place, begging for him to fill you to the brim. “Fuck! Just come in me.” And with that command, for the first time in ever..he’d follow. Releasing his load and lobbing yet another sloppy peck. One that lasted far longer than the rest. That warm seed spilling into you as he attempted to muffle his own cries. This was pure heaven if he’d ever experienced it. Your hands scaling his back and your limbs fully coiled around him as if you never wanted to let go.
“God, I swear you’re nothing but trouble, rookie. What am I gonna do with you?”
heavily huffing whilst examining your face. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Caressing the side of his face with a gentle hand, you’d bat those beautiful eyelashes before bopping his nose with the tip of your finger. “Well you can start by getting me a Plan B, Mr. Weak Ass Pull Out Game.” Immediately sending him into hysterics. “Shut up, like you weren’t begging for it..damn brat.” The two of you would joke around and cackle as if everything was just peachy between the two of you. Knowing you’d go right back to being sworn enemies. Just then, the sound of footsteps and doors unlocking sounded off from downstairs. Maybe one day you’d settle your differences for real. “Our little secret?” “Of course.”
but for now, it was much more fun to pretend!
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@hobiesrockstargf
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d0youc0py · 10 months
Note
👋🏻 Hello! May I please request something for the 141 boys with Ale and rudy? Where reader goes berserk on the field and the boys have to calm them down cause they are completely out of it ?
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He was thankful he was the one who trained you or else he would be on his ass. Him shouting your name seem to have little effect on you, those normally soft eyes glazed over with such malice it made his knees weak.
He finally maneuvered you to where he wanted you, trapped between him on the wall, your back pressed tightly against his chest. Your legs kicked about, trying your absolutely hardest to escape out of the iron grip he had you in.
“Fucking Christ kid, it’s me.” The lowness in his voice seemed to lull you more than the shouting. He could feel your rapid heartbeat. “It’s over, yeah? You did good.” He kept his voice soft, only speaking up to communicate his location through the comms. Your legs began to give out and he allowed both of you to sink to the floor. You rested your heated head against the icy wall. His grip on you loosened when he realized you weren’t trying to kill him anymore.
He kept you against his chest, hoping to anchor you. There have been many times he wished he had someone to bring him back down- although he would never admit it. He was use to fighting alone, but maybe with you it could be different.
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“I-I-I.” You couldn’t even get a syllable out, every letter getting cut off by a whimper.
“It’s alright.” His voice was so soft- so understanding. Didn’t he see the total mess in front of you? “Come on.” His firm hand gripped your arm guiding you into an opposite room, away from your mess. “Breathe with me.” His gunmetal blue eyes were trained on you, making sure you did what he had asked you to. Your frantic eyes darted around but he held your chin in place. “Breathe with me.” He repeated. You did as you were told.
The lightness in your head slowly began to fade, but you couldn’t shake the uneasiness in your legs. You gripped onto his vest for support and he made no move to stop you.
“I don’t know what happened.” You were finally able to get the words out in a soft pant. He nodded his head an assuring half smile on his lips. He had always been calm on the field, but he had been a witness to this many times.
“It’s alright.” He whispered. “Gonna have to work on getting you out of that little head of yours.” He tapped the furrow lines between your brows.
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“Shite.” He growled. He had heard the screams from upstairs, his feet making quick work of the steps. “Y/N.” He scolded. He sounded like he had just discovered a dog chewing on his favorite pair of shoes- not like he just walked in on someone brutally executing a room full of people. His confidence faltered a bit when you tried to stab him. “No, we talked about this remember?” He took advantage of your dazed state, pining you to the ground.
You fought him- hard. He was definitely going to make you feel bad about all the bruises you left on him later. He had finally exhausted you, the red behind your vision slowly turning back.
“I’m sorry, Bubbles.” You groaned. He let you out of a headlock, both of you trying to catch your breath.
“I expected a bit more of a fight if I’m being honest.” He smiled, patting your thigh. You rested your face in your hands, but he quickly shushed you. “None of that.” He chided, holding your face between his gloved hands.
“I’m sorry.” You repeated, your voice cracking. His baby blues softened. Wrapping an arm around you he tucked you under his chin. You turned your head hoping to catch the sound of his steady heartbeat.
“It happens, kid. You’ve heard me through the comms before, yeah?” He gave a one sided chuckle.
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“Heard you got a bit of battle rage, huh?” Kyle watched you with careful eyes as you paced back and forth. He had been summoned over the comms by Price to calm you down. “Let’s get you out of this room, yeah?” He extended a hand towards you, praying you weren’t too far gone. You stopped pacing, blank eyes looking at him. His heart dropped down to his stomach. Your dead eyes always made his skin crawl. “Don’t be that way sweetheart, come on.” He curled his fingers, ushering you along.
The pet name chipped at the cold freezing over your brain. “Ky.” You whimpered. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“There you are.” He smiled. His soft smile was enough to break you. You took his hand, your head beginning to turn to take in the damage you had caused. He quickly stopped you, placing a warm hand over your eyes. “It happened, we’re moving on.”
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He had never been prouder.
You had taken out an entire warehouse by yourself.
He was so proud.
The feelings began to diminish when he caught sight of you. He recognized that look immediately, his own face graced with it more often than not.
“What happened, Mi sol?” He hummed. You were exhausted, the burning feeling in your stomach slowly beginning to fade. You suddenly felt all too human. “I know, I know.” He soothed, taking in your frenzied eyes. His hand gripped the back of your vest, tugging you to your feet. “Let’s get you out of here.”
He did his best to guide you through your wreckage, using his arm to block your view.
“Ale I’m sor”-
He grunted disapprovingly, cutting you off.
“You did good.” He said. “Very good. Don’t want you getting into that head of yours, hmm.” He pressed a fleeting kiss to your temple.
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When you didn’t answer him over the comms he went into a little battle rage himself. His mind always assuming the worst. He imagined you laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood, scared and dying.
He really needed to stop underestimating you.
“Y/N.” His voice was firm. The tone usually snapped you back into place, yet now it had zero impact on you. “That’s enough.” His hand gripped yours tugging you towards the exits. He couldn’t wait to get to the safe house and hose you off. The foreign blood dripping from you turned his stomach. At least it wasn’t your blood.
You snatched your hand away from his, your eyes boring into his like he was a stranger. “Y/N.” He pressed. “That’s enough.” He extended a hand towards you again. You swatted him away, your leg extending out to knock him down.
Luckily he thought ahead, grabbing your ankle and tossing you to the ground before you had time to think. “You done?” He asked. You growled, trying for him once again. You must’ve forgot how great at defense he was. He was finally able to get you against his chest, trying to ignore the rough punches you threw at it. He whispered soft things in your ear, little reminders of who you were.
You stopped.
“I’m sorry, Ru.” You practically sobbed against him. He hushed you gently, resting his chin against your shoulder.
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2frosty4you · 2 months
Note
Hiii! If reqs are open, can I request for all the mercs finding out teen merc reader grew up with very neglectful parents, and is basically a mother to her younger siblings? The only reason she even took up a job as a mercenary is so she can pay the bills for her little brothers and sisters, since her parents are too busy using their money on drugs:/
Mercs find out teen!reader takes sole care of her siblings [Platonic
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| All mercs x GN!Reader Platonic | 826 words | Masterlist | Ask/Request |
Hardest thing about this was actually getting a name for it :cry:
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Scout
✧ He says he relates, but in reality he doesn't. His family was filled with successful boys (fatherless) and his mother who they all loved. He sent his paychecks to her every time.
✧ When you explained that you had to take care of your siblings from a younger age over the campfire he became quiet.
✧ Doesn't make a joke, but the awkward air was getting to him.
"so.. how many siblings ya got?"
✧ He only says this to break the ice
✧ After a while he understands why you're always on calls with people, always away on ceasefire and always take any off days you can get (hardly any)
Soldier
"AN AMERICAN CARETAKER SHOULD NOT INTAKE DRUGS FROM THE FRENCH!!"
✧ He's trying, but not hard enough
✧ He offers you one of his extra helmets and his raccoons. He cares for you like a strange rabid dog you found on the street.
✧ Shares his food with you, gives his loyalty to your brothers and sisters with a goofy salute.
✧ Don’t let him meet your siblings unless you want him to get them to dig a trench around your house
Pyro
".. mph?"
✧ They don't understand why your parents aren't using their own money.
✧ They don't understand a lot of what you explained
✧ They'll begin to offer any candies they have to you, not like they weren't already. Protects you a lot on the battlefield and draws pictures for you and your siblings (mostly balloonicorn) 
✧ Would like to meet your siblings though, they've got plushies to share 100%
Heavy
✧ He pats you on the back and nods, he didn't need to mother/father a group of kids but having no father made his family's life harder.
✧ Teaches you some night hearty meals that could feed a battalion
✧ Also teaches you self defense, even if you know it already it's never enough (heavy tells you that like :nerd: )
✧ Also makes you sit and have some time to yourself, he's your 'father' now. No ifs, buts or whys
Engineer
"pardon."
✧ He says, frying pan in hand as he was cooking breakfast. Staring at you like he was going to kill a set of parents.
✧ Tries to keep you safer on the battlefield, not wanting you to suffer more than your family has done to you.
✧ Teaches you to cook, like heavy 
✧ Cooks breakfast for you first, and when you have a rough time its 100% only you getting proper meal.
✧ Will drive you to your family's house, and stand there like a guard as you let him meet your brothers.
✧ Probably would build little contraptions for them and help tutor them.
✧ Loves you like family, including your siblings (not your parents, not at all)
Demoman
✧ He's drunk when you tell him this, he raises his bottle and spits out
"aye, fuck ya parents"
✧ He passes out immediately
✧ If he's sober when you mention it again he's going to be more caring(slightly) and since hes always at least tipsy he'll offer you his bombs like a drug dealer.
✧ If you say yes he'll blow up them and their crackhouse.
✧ Is on the fence about meeting your siblings, he doesn't really want your brothers seeing a drunk, half-blind Scot stumbling around.
Medic
✧ His eye twitches, a large insane smile on his face as he turns to you while having his elbows deep in the corpse of the enemy heavy.
"Did I mishear you?"
✧ He removes his hands from the corpse and comes over to you shaking you like crazy. Ranting about how a teenager shouldn't be caring for small children and asking if you had symptoms for any mental issues.
✧ He's insane, I'm not gonna sugar coat it.
✧ But he is smart and teaches you how to do some basic first aid
'no medic I'm not going to remove any appendices please stop cutting into scout'
✧ Wants to meet your sisters, offers them to play with his birds and offers up some plushies
'MEDIC DON'T GIVE THEM SYRINGES' 'and PLEASE put away the baboon heart'
Sniper
✧ Asks for you to repeat what you muttered and then offers to 'get rid' of your parents (sniper put down the rifle.. and the jarate)
✧ Drives you back and to your family home, is uncomfortable around small children so he's going to 100% either stay in his truck or be leaning against it the whole time.
✧ Don't worry he didn't bring any jarate with him.. Just don't check the truck (please) 
✧ But if he mentions taking care of birds your siblings demand to see them, so they get along well
Spy
✧ He will assassinate them, won't tell you, but it'll be suspicious when your mother dies from an overdoses while having and obvious bullet hole through her chest
✧ Look, he wasn't a father to scout but he'll be a father for you. Better than your last father at least, and a little better than he was to scout.
✧ Teach your siblings french 100%, you won't know until they start speaking it and you're left dumbfounded.
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Posted 1.03.2024 if you see any typos or anything pls tell me!!
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