#and we'll drop all charges.
Text
gee it's a fair world. just pay a thousand bucks to charity b..
0 notes
Text
Rivalry
synopsis: Geto and Gojo learn to share (you)
cont: fem reader, they're all 'friends', masturbation, oral (they eat you out together), making out (satosugu), competitiveness, arguing, teasing, dirty talk, choking, hand jobs, so much sexual tension it hurts
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ
Satoru jabs his shoulder into Suguru's not acknowledging it as he pulled your thigh over his shoulder harder, bringing your cunt more towards him. Geto felt the vein in his forehead pop out as he tsked loudly, repeating the same action Gojo had just done to him, his warm fingers digging into your other thigh as he tried and failed to pull you more towards him thanks to Satoru's iron grip.
The duo continued giving each other painfully obvious side eyes and noises of disgust at the other. "Hey... hey- hey!!" You snapped, snapping the men out of their childish fight as their heads turned to face yours. You propped your arms behind you on the bed, looking down at them with a scowel. "Stop fucking fights, you assholes are stretching my legs too much I can feel my ligaments ripping." You said dramatically.
Your legs were spread so far apart to accommodate both obnoxiously wide and built men, you were already struggling enough, and now they were trying to pull you apart like some dog toy. "It seems like you two are more interested in yourselves than me. Maybe this wasn't a good idea." You said with a scowl, ready to end this before it even started.
"No! no, no, we'll behave." Gojo said quickly, panic evident in his tone as he took your words seriously. "Won't we, Suguru?" The white-haired man looked over at the man next to him with a faux smile plastered on his face. Suguru's lip twitched as he forced his own smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Right, sorry pretty." He replied, pursing his lips at his best friend before he directed his eyes at you once more, his expression immediately softening.
"Yeah?" You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked between the two of them. "You mean it? You really won't fight anymore?" You continued, a hint of malicious intent behind your tone. The boys must've picked up on it because neither of them dared to move, their faces void of emotion as they looked at you expectantly, knowing something else was coming.
"Then kiss."
It was cartoonish the way their jaws dropped in tandem, they stayed silent as they waited for you to say 'just kidding', but it never came. "What? If you're so friendly now, what's a little kiss, hm?" You said, trying to hold back your laughter at their expressions, "Unless..." You continued, your voice tone changing to one laced with faux uncertainty, "...you guys lied? You're going to keep fighting huh? Might as well end this now in that case-" Your words got caught in your throat as Gojo turned his head toward Geto and grabbed his neck harshly, forcing their faces together as he kissed him harshly.
"Oh~" You cooed, your eyebrows raising at the unexpected action. Truthfully, you were only teasing them, but you guessed they were taking this more seriously than you thought, just how bad did they want you? "Mmm!" Geto moaned against his best friend's lips in surprise as he stilled, his lips not moving against Gojo's as he did all the work, slotting his lips against Geto's.
Suguru's hand gripped Gojo's wrist in a warning as the white-haired man's fingers dug into the sides of his neck dominatingly. There was no way Geto was going to let Satoru take charge like this. You felt yourself throb between your legs when Geto released Gojo's hand and took his slender neck in his the same way Gojo was doing to him. When he squeezed, a choked moan was released from Gojo's lips into the kiss.
He had expected Geto to fight back, but he didn't expect him to be so rough. Geto started moving his mouth against Gojo's, trying to gain control. The two of them were quite literally fighting with their lips. The kiss was full of teeth, tongue, and spit as the growled agaisnt the other's lips. Saliva was dripping down Gojo's chin from how harshly Geto was licking into his mouth as he fought Gojo's tongue for dominance.
But the stubborn blue-eyed man wasn't one to back down from a fight. He tried to ignore the throbbing he felt in his boxers as he choked Geto out while he tongued his mouth, trying to stick his tongue down the other's throat. Their eyes stayed open for the most part as they looked into the eyes of the other challengingly, only fluttering shut briefly when one squeezed the other's neck, they must both be sensitive there.
"Okay, okay. I think you guys have proved yourselves." You giggled, interrupting their kiss. They detached their lips from the other at the sound of your voice, almost like they were in a daze and your voice was the key that set them free. Both men breathed heavily with red faces and lidded eyes as they looked at the other. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" You asked, trying to ignore the intense throbbing you felt between your thighs so you could tease them a little more.
Geto released his hand from Gojo's neck, making the other follow suit before he looked between your legs and noticed a drop of your slick was sliding down your inner thigh. Suguru smirked as he wiped up the trail of your arousal before he wiped his finger through your folds, making your body jolt in surprise as he smeared the wetness agaisnt your clit, "Yeah... guess you liked it too, huh?" He asked, smirking as he slowly rubbed your little bud with his pointer finger.
Gojo couldn't ignore the throbbing he felt between his thighs any longer as he watched Geto rub your swollen clit. He started grinding his hips into the sheets for some relief as he gripped your thigh over his shoulder for support, taking in the sight in front of him greedily.
"H-hey... I didn't say you could touch me yet." You spoke softly, trying to keep your voice steady as you spoke, the task proving incredibly difficult from Geto's light teasing touch. "No?" he replied, it was his turn to tease you now. "But you're begging for it down here, should I just ignore what she wants? That doesn't seem very nice." Geto spoke, referring to your cunt like it was a person.
You stayed silent, trying to hold your moans and whines back from his ministrations. "Cmon Satoru, back me up." He said, surprising the man on his left. That kiss really had done wonders, just earlier they were fighting about who got to be closer to your cunt and now they were working together to touch you? In your heart, you knew this comradery wouldn't last long, but it was nice to see if only for a little bit.
Satoru didn't even look Suguru's way, instead, his eyes stayed zeroed in on your pussy as he reached out and used his index and middle fingers to drag through your folds near the entrance of your pussy and scoop up some of your wetness there while Geto rubbed your clit. "Oh fuck... you're right, that kiss did more for you than it did for us, huh?" Gojo teased, rubbing circles around your tight entrance teasingly, making you think he might slip his fingers in at any moment.
Satoru looked towards the man next to him when he laughed incredulously, clearly not a sound that was backing up his previous words, no, this laugh was directed at him. "Don't play coy, I saw how you were rutting your hips against the bed. Kissing me got your dick all stiff huh?" Geto teased, laughing at his best friend. Gojo tsked, his lips curling in a snarl. He was right though, although it wasn't all from the kiss, Gojo couldn't deny that the little interaction they shared had made him horny, maybe even made him leak in his boxers a little.
"Look who's acting all high and mighty when you're as hard as I am right now. Your lucky your laying on your stomach, I bet your boner is so fucking obvious through those thin-ass shorts." Gojo shot back, both the men's fingers on your pussy pausing as they started arguing once more. You sighed, you knew they wouldn't be able to get along for longer than five minutes.
"Do you want to kiss again?" You asked, your words immediately ceasing all arguing between the boys. Honestly, they both didn't mind the kiss, they could both agree internally the other was a good kisser and they were pretty easy on the eyes, but they would rather die than admit that out loud, hence why their big egos made them shut their mouth when you threatened them with a kiss.
"Really? You hated it that much?" You giggled, shaking your head at their childishness. "So I guess you would really hate touching each other too, right?" Your words sent chills down their spine, but not in a negative way, in a pleasant way, which shocked them both. They had pecked on the lips as high schoolers teasingly and jerked off in the same room while watching porn together once or twice, but they had never dared to cross that line.
Their silence spoke volumes, you watched their eyes dart around the room as their faces scrunched in embarrassment. You decided to give them a break, not wanting to push them too hard, but you weren't going to give up on this so easily. "Relax, it was just a question." You said, easing the tension that had filled up the room.
"It's not nice to tease people you know," Gojo replied, leaning in to press a kiss to your inner thigh, his hair tickling your skin. You gasped quietly in surprise, your body squirming against the sheets as he continued pressing kisses against you. "A-all you do is tease people Satoru." You replied before Geto could, effectively stopping yet another argument. Geto smirked when you took the words right out of his mouth.
"I'm older than you, you should treat your elders with respect. Picking on you builds character." He replied, making you snort. 'Elders', he wasn't even that much older than you. You were about to respond when you felt his lips kiss your pussy, right against your folds below your throbbing clit. "Did that feel good?" He asked, repeating the action, making your hands fall into his hair, carding through the strands.
Looking over to Geto you noticed his face looked more relaxed than he did seconds ago. His eyes were more lidded and his mouth was slightly open in a small o as he watched Gojo kiss your pussy, not yet using his tongue against you. It was only when you noticed his shoulder moving up and down that you realized why he looked so flushed, he was touching himself. He swallowed hard before biting his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes briefly closing as he palmed himself over his shorts for some relief.
"Suguru... I want you to touch me too." You replied. It was so obvious he wanted to join in but didn't really know where to fit in. He was practically salivating as he watched Gojo kiss where he wanted to put his own lips. He looked up at you and gave you a lazy smile, one that made your heart skip in your chest. "Yeah? Want me to lick your pussy?" He asked, starting to lean his head closer to where you needed him.
"Hey, there's no room for you down here, go somewhere else," Gojo responded, dragging his lips down your thighs on Geto's side to emphasize his words. "Make room then," Geto responded, knocking his head against Gojo's as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your inner thigh where Gojo just did. In his head, he was erasing Gojo's kisses, such a childish thought.
You abandoned one of your hands on Gojo's head to rest on Geto's, digging your fingers into his hair. "P-please... do something." You begged, your voice coming out needier than you were expecting. "Ohh? Were you just telling me how you didn't give me permission to touch you? Are you giving me permission now?" Gojo asked, trying to make your words all about him.
You dug your fingers deeper into his hair, you felt your annoyance much stronger with how aroused you were, you weren't in the mood to be teased by him anymore. "Yes, fuck, both of you. C'mon, hurry." You instructed, pushing both of their heads towards where you needed them the most.
The two men were so absorbed in their own little world with you that they bumped heads when they both tried to lick your clit at the same time. "Fuck, Satoru moves your head, I wanna suck her clit." Geto growled, knocking his head against his once more, on purpose this time. "No, you move, that's what I was going to do." Gojo shot back, his face flushed with his arousal and need to touch you.
You sighed, staying quiet this time as you wanted to see where this fight took them. Maybe they were able to figure something out without your interference, but if they couldn't, you would have to step in and fix their attitudes.
"You're so annoying, get your own ideas," Geto responded, shoving Gojo's head harshly against your thigh, successfully pushing him out of the way so he could latch onto your clit. You gasped when you felt the plushness of his lips around your neglected bud, your back arching at the stimulation. Gojo snarled as he watched Geto get the first real taste of you, but he couldn't deny the harsh twitch of his cock in his boxers when he caught a glimpse of Geto's soft tongue poking out between his lip as he caressed your clit with it.
Gojo decided he was going to do what he wanted to do anyway, and in the process, make Geto so uncomfortable that he let Gojo take his current place in sucking your clit. His next actions had your pussy clenching around nothing. Gojo leaned in and tilted his head at an angle before sticking his tongue out and forcing his tongue under Geto's to poke at your clit.
Geto had felt Gojo's soft hair tickle the side of his face when he leaned in, but he figured the man was going to suck you lower or tongue fuck you, not make out with him while trying to lick your clit. Surugu's eyes cracked open in disbelief but not once did he cease his tongue's movements agaisnt you. Gojo moaned against your pussy with a smile on his face as he rubbed your clit with his soft tongue.
"O-oh fuck" You moaned, your back arching and legs threatening to snap in on their heads as they ate you out together. Geto's first instinct was to fight Gojo with his tongue but he realized that might hurt you in the process, and this was about making you feel good, not about his own personal grievances.
Sighing, he tilted his head at an angle like Gojo's and released his lips from around your clit, opting to just stick his tongue out and bat the little bud with his tongue. Gojo huffed out a laugh at Geto's compromise, feeling like he had one somehow, even though he was doing the same thing Geto was.
"K-keep doing that!" You praised, realizing the men had calmed down a bit and were now slowly starting to figure out that working together can be better than working alone. "F-feels so good when you g-guys do that." Your head tipped back against the sheets as you whined their names freely, your nails digging against both of their scalps.
The longer they ran their tongues over your folds and occasionally licked each other, the more the tension dissipated and turned into a more carnal sense of need for pleasure. Gojo started trying to intentionally follow where Geto's tongue was, not only to increase the pleasure you were feeling but because it felt good to touch his tongue to Geto's. It felt forbidden, which made his whole body feel hot.
Geto quickly caught on. At first, they were licking at your clit together, then they fell into a sort of rhythm where one of them tongued near your entrance while the other licked your clit, alternating like that. But now, they were trying to be in the same place at once, and it was heightening Geto's sensitivity.
The way no one was saying anything about it either made them feel even hotter like they were pretending nothing weird was happening. "I'm so hard." Gojo mumbled needily into your pussy, getting a coo of his name from you followed by a "Touch yourself for me." And touch himself he did.
Geto had paused on touching himself when he started licking you, focusing more on what his tongue was doing than his hand. Once he watched Gojo sneak his hand under his body to jerk himself off in the tight space of his crotch being pressed against the bed, he started rubbing himself too. He had pushed his own arousal to the side, but from the taste of your cunt, your noises, and the constant push and pull from Gojo, he could no longer contain himself once Gojo stopped holding back.
"Mmm... fuck... I- I wanna fuck you so bad." Gojo whined against you, his voice sending vibrations through your pussy. Geto's face heat up at Gojo's words. He slowly slipped his fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers when his arousal grew too much. Suguru always was a whore for dirty talk. "Y-your fingers, fuck me with your fingers-" You cried, humping your hips towards their faces.
When Gojo detached his lips from your pussy to get a good look at your tight little hole, Geto took the opportunity to suckle your clit back into his mouth now that he had it all to himself. "So sweet, so fucking sweet." He mumbled, squeezing his hand around his cock harder when he felt your little bud throb in his mouth. Gojo bit his lip and quickened his strokes on himself as he started humping his hand like a fleshlight, the slide eased by how wet he was from all the pre-cum he had been leaking.
"Geto stop for a second, I can't see," Gojo said, his voice abandoned of any real malice and instead replaced with raw need. Geto obliged, pulling his lips away from you begrudgingly, he parted your folds with his fingers for Gojo while the white-haired man rubbed two thick fingers agaisnt your tight entrance, teasing you. "You're being so nice to me now." Gojo giggled, looking over at his best friend who was holding you open for him.
"Shut up and finger her so I can go back to eating her out." Geto deflected, ignoring the fact that Gojo was right, he was becoming too pussydrunk to fight with Gojo like before. Gojo giggled as he started to press his fingers into you, breaching your tight hole. "Satoru!!" You cried, making him bite his lip as he penetrated you fully, his fingers sliding inside you to the hilt with ease thanks to your wetness.
"You're so fucking tight baby... fuckkk I can only imagine how well this pretty pussy takes cock." He fantasized, making his own, and Geto's cock twitch at the mental image. With lidded eyes, Gojo started slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of you before he looked to Geto, "Go ahead, she's all yours." he said with a smirk.
Geto wasted no time in sucking your clit back into his mouth, shaking his head agaisnt you as he abused you little bud. Your head was going fuzzy, the way Gojo was curling his fingers into your gspot was making you cant your hips against Geto's mouth, forcing his tongue to rub you harder. "W-wait, wait, I think I'm gonna cum-" You cried, your arms shaking from the intensity of the building orgasm.
"Yeahhh? Gonna cum all over my fingers? Let Suguru lick up your cum?" He cooed, smirking at you. Gojo's cock throbbed against the sheets when he released his hand from his cock and placed it over yours atop Geto's head, shoving him harder into your cunt. Geto moaned in surprise but internally groaned as he knew Gojo was most definitely smearing his precum all over his pretty hair.
"C'monn, you're doing the heavy lifting here," Gojo spoke to Geto who was now furiously sucking your clit, alternating between the latter motion and flattening his tongue against you and rubbing back and forth. Each time his tongue accidentally touched the base of Gojo's fingers when he pulled them out of you, and he got a taste of your wetness from the inside, his eyes rolling back in his head. How was it possible for someone to taste so sweet?
"Shit- wait- fuck I'm r-really cumming-" You cried, feeling a ball of something more intense well up in your tummy. Your words made Geto groan loudly against you, the sound coming out muffled from how hard he was pressed agaisnt you. Geto was focusing more on his tip now as he tried to bring himself to the brink of orgasm with you, but the tight space in which he was pressed against the sheets was making it hard for him to get the proper stimulation.
"Let it out, we got you baby we got you." Gojo cooed, speaking for the both of them as you rode Geto's face and his fingers. Gojo's jaw dropped with your own as your body stilled and you came. Only this wasn't like one of your regular orgasms. A warm feeling spread throughout your whole body as you came, the tight bundle in your tummy had snapped and you squirted all over Geto's hungry tongue.
Gojo moaned loudly as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm, groaning through his teeth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head as he opened his mouth and tried to drink up as much of your wetness as he could. You could barely hear Gojo's whistle as your orgasm clouded all of your senses. You shook and writhed agaisnt the sheets as the boys worked you through possibly one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever had.
"O-oh-" Your stomach clenched and your body jerked in on yourself as your orgasm ended and you were thrown into overstimulation when Geto continued eating you out, too pussydrunk on you to realize you had already finished. "Easyyy~" Gojo said softly, gripping Geto's hair harshly as he yanked him up and away from you. The man was breathing heavily, his face flushed red and covered with your cum as he was pulled away.
The bed sheets and your thighs were stained wet with your cum. You had no time to be embarrassed though as the only thing on your mind was getting the boys to cum too. "C-come here." You said softly, releasing their head simultaneously and nodding at them to get closer. Gojo moved quicker than Geto, who seemed to still be in a daze as they rose from their place between your thighs, your legs falling against the bed limply.
Once they were both sitting on their heels by your chest, looking at you expectantly, you stuck out your hands in an O shape. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what you were wanting from them. You gave both men a fucked out smile as they hastily worked on pulling their erect cocks out of their pants. Geto held his cock out over your chest, stroking it slowly as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and an open mouth, it clearly wasn't going to take much to get him to cum.
Looking over at Gojo, he was already fitting his cock in your weak O-shaped hand, waiting for you to jerk him off. "C'mon... you wanna touch us right?" He asked, trying to mask his need with that teasing voice of his. You smiled softly before you took both of their cocks in your soft hands and began stroking them off together, keeping the same pace and speed for both of them.
"H-hahh..." Both of their moans were mingling and tangling together, you couldn't tell who's belonged to whom. Geto was staring at your hand in a trance as you jerked him off. His mouth fluttered open like a fish out of water, his breathing coming out stuttered and uneven, you knew he was close. Gojo on the other hand, was entranced with the slick that was dripping down Geto's chin.
He licked his lips before he made a split-second decision to taste it. They had already crossed so many unspoken boundaries today, what was one more? Leaning forward, Gojo placed his hand on the back of Geto's neck and pulled his unsuspecting face toward him. Suguru's breath caught in his lungs when he felt Gojo's tongue collect the cum from his neck and chin, the white-haired man making a path from the bottom of his face to his lips, before he connected them together like before, this time of their own volition.
"Fuck.." You cursed, your face heating up as you watched the men's tongues tangle with each other. "You guys are so fucking hot." Geto groaned at your words, both of his hands wrapping around the back of Gojo's neck as he kept him against his face, relishing in how good his best friend's tongue felt against his. "I'm so close baby, keep going- f-fuck." Gojo groaned against Geto's lips, his fingers caressing the other's neck harder as his orgasm approached.
The sounds coming from their lips were so vulgar, combined with their desperate moans it was making your cunt throb. "God... m-my tip, focus on my tip," Geto instructed, starting to thrust his hips into your hand, aiding you in pleasuring him. "Your tip is sensitive?" Gojo asked, pulling away from Geto's lips to whisper against them. "I remember that when we jerked off before, you didn't notice it but I was watching you. Watching how squirmy you got when you touched yourself there." Gojo teased, working Geto up with his words.
"Ohooo, this is interesting." You giggled, feeling the men drip steady streams of pre-cum over your hand, making the vulgar squelching noises echo louder in the room. "S-shut the fuck up, S-Satoru-" Gojo spit back, averting his eyes from his bestfriend. Gojo let Geto pull his head back, their hands dropping from each other as they became seconds from cumming.
"God... god your hand feels so good princess, I-I'm gonna cum-" Geto whined, his eyes finding yours as his face scrunched in pleasure. "Cum for me Suguru, wanna watch you when you cum." You replied, making him groan loudly as his cock throbbed in your hand. "Heyyy~ You're making me feel left out," Gojo whined childishly, his hands wrapped around your smaller one that held his cock before he started thrusting into it, squeezing your hand tighter around him.
You looked over at him and shook your head as if the two men didn't just make out on top of you while you jerked them off. Your gaze was swiftly corrected by Geto's hand that gripped your chin, making you look at him. "S-said you wanted to watch me cum." He moaned, his voice breathy and high-pitched. "W-watch- f-fuck fuck fuck-" Long hot ropes of cum spilled from his cock and all over your chest, which was covered by one of Gojo's old band tee's. Something told you after today though, he wouldn't mind his shirt covered in Geto's cum.
"Good boy, fuck. You're so pretty Suguru." You praised, keeping your eyes on his face as his eyes squeezed shut and his orgasm wracked through his body, his abs clenching and his body spasming with his high. The only warning you got from Gojo was an obnoxiously loud moan before he was cumming. He grit curses through his teeth as he used your hand to milk his cock.
His cum was thinner than Geto's, but there was more of it, and his cum shot further when most of Geto's just spilled over your fingers. Geto groaned in annoyance when a rope of Satoru's cum landed on his thigh as Suguru twitched in the aftershocks of his orgasm. "So tighttt~" Gojo moaned, smiling through his orgasm as he squeezed his hands tighter over yours, almost painfully so.
"Ugh... fucking gross, you got your cum all over me Satoru." Were the first words spilling from Geto's mouth when he fully came down. Gojo wrung out his cock using your fist as he pulled it out of the makeshift pussy, making sure he gave you all of his cum. "Oh shut up, just grab a tissue you big baby." Gojo spat back, leaving his softening cock hanging out as he laid down beside you, putting his arm behind you, against the pillow you were laying on.
"No, you get me a tissue." He spat back, laying on your other side as he leaned slightly over your body to curse at the man next to you, his arm siding under your shoulders as he squinted at Gojo. "Hah???? I'm not your maid, get it yourself." Gojo retorted, looking at the man incredulously. You gave up on looking between them or trying to stop them for that matter.
You just layed there comfortably, your smaller body being squished and smothered by two large men who fought for your touch while simultaneously screaming at each other over a cum rag. You heaved a dramatic sigh, which both of them failed to catch, of course. You thought a little intimate time would bring them closer together but clearly, you were wrong.
———————————————————————
Bonus: At some point, Geto gave in and went to the bathroom to grab Gojo a tissue, leaving Gojo to take the opportunity to grab your body and pull you on top of him, wrapping his arms and legs around you like a koala. You shook your head, sighing as you knew this would only lead to another fight. When Geto stepped into the room once more, he was met by an annoyingly smug, Gojo face, making his vein pop out on his forehead. "Oh, you bitch." He growled, marching toward the bed.
You ended up falling asleep that night quite literally crushed between two large, muscly, hot, sweaty men. If you didn't die overnight from axphixiation, that would be a miracle. Honestly, though, you were just glad they had stopped fighting, so if that meant you had to die by suffocation? So be it.
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#geto smut#gojo satoru smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu geto#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#jjk geto#gojou x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x geto#gojou satoru x reader#gojo saturo#satosugu#satosugu x reader#satosugu smut#jjk gojo#gojo satoru fic#satoru gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x y/n#geto suguru
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
newsroom rw thread pt 16
#jan 12 2023#MAC 😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖#i seriously DO NOT understand why he was there I HATE HIM SO MUCH#mac telling will in front of all the staff ohhhhh my beloved my baby 😖😖😖😖😖#you can oh her eyes and her voice dropping oh my god oh my god EMILY MORTIMER EMOLY#yah cos will just said we'll call the election tomorrow and then we'll both resign !!! so#leona standing with them is saur!!!!#mcmac PLS#jan 13 2023#hi election night pts 1 and 2 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁 ik i just watched it like two months ago but i cannot wait#charlie: WE HAVE GONE TO THE ZOO!#i've appointed myself in charge of morale!#HFJFCBBCCBBCMMMZMZNXNCMCNVNXNXNNCNC I LOVE WILL SO MUCH no like i'm in love with him i love him#be less desperate for female friends PLS this ep is saur funny#saAUREJTBDJA SETTIBG MY ON FIRE IVE WATCHED THIS SCENE LIKE A HUNDRED TIMES AND IT STILL PIT OFM Y STOMACH CHURNINGGGG#would you do me a favor anything i mean it AND THEN YOURE THE MOST ATTRSCFIVE WKMAN IVE EVER SEEN IN REALL IFENLEUEJRJDHSNFNXNSJDKXJAJDHR#i love mac so much i love will so much this episode is literally everything like the most insane buzz everrrr icant#king george forgave AMERICA#sloan and macs side projects for neal send every single time like my beloved fixated unhinged bffs#elephant in the room 😭😭😭 mac and sloan are sisters like they're the same person#i was a really good boyfriend. THROWIN UPPPAKSKFBBFNCKD#AND SHE CALLED HIM BILLYYYYYYY she literally has the stars in her eyes ohh h hcbncncndhebfndwmdkenfhf#wait i always think the dressing room argument is in pt 1 ahhh there's. still do much#mac practically leaning on charlie is so ☹️☹️☹️#THEIR LOTALTYYYYYYYYY CHARACTER AND RESPONSIBIKTIY BCBCNNSJF STOPPPP THATS MY FAMILY#WILLS FACE No seriously he's heartbreaking jeff daniels is insane#my heart is pounding for what#I BRUTALLYHURT YIY SND THATS. cat and facts don't change but in my lifetime i never did it intentionally GAWD#i get the nerve from my mother !#there's nothing that'll convince me ☹️☹️
1 note
·
View note
Text
.
#ughhh the bill came for my ambulance ride and im PISSED bc theyve given me barely any time at all to pay it#like ya its 'only' $50 but i dont ?? have that rn. and will not by the date they've set.#cool cool cooooool#& i happen to know this hospitals financial forgiveness is nonexistent - they'll only drop it if ur homeless and have zero in ur bank acct#(the other hospitals i've been in at least had payment programs and/or forgiveness for low income ppl / ppl on govt assistance)#(but nah nope not here go fuck urself. pay up or we'll add more fees u lil worm.)#that's fuckin fun#ugh#i do not have thisssss i had to use the last of my emergency funds not set aside for the hrt issue for rent yesterday#i h8 hospitals i h8 everything#i didnt even WANT that ambulance i TOLD them that. but they claimed i needed it & 'wasnt able to decide for myself'#so they basically forced me in. and now i have to pay them for their mistreatment. thats just....#alright then.#(at least when i was homeless they'd let me turn down treatment or would do limited treatment i wouldnt be charged for. but now they dgaf)#tw medical mistreatment#tw forced treatment#ask to tag
0 notes
Text
I am Sage's mother, better known as Nana. I adopted Sage after my son died when she was still a baby. She's been through six foster homes by then, but we loved her and she blossomed into a joyful, lively girl who made music and art.
Puberty began and COVID hit, and she was treated for depression and anxiety, at times very severe. Her teachers shared any concerns with me so her treatment could be adapted.
The transparency ended in August of 2021 when Sage started high school. She started a public high school and she told me that all the girls there were bi, trans, lesbian, emo and she wanted to wear boy's clothes and be emo. Because I saw it as just a phase, it was fine with me.
But at school, she told them something different: she was now a boy named Draco with male pronouns. Sage asked the school not to tell me, and they did not tell me even though I informed them of her mental health history and medication. If I had known, this would be a much different story.
She was terribly bullied. No one told me. But boys followed her, touched her, threatened violence and rape. Something happened in the boy's bathroom but for two days, the school told me nothing. They kept meeting with Sage alone and she became so distraught they called me to pick her up.
That evening, I found a hallpass labeled 'Draco' and Sage told me she was identifying as a boy, and that her counselor said she could use the boy's bathroom. She'd been jacked up against the wall by a group of boys. She was crying, terrified. I said just stay home, we'll figure it out. That was my last conversation with Sage for five months.
The night she ran, she thought, to a young friend she'd met online, she left a note saying she was scared of what would happen if she stayed. The sheriff, FBI, search dogs were called in. I dropped to my knees in prayer. Nine days later the FBI found her in Baltimore. My baby had been lured online, sex trafficked by DC then Maryland. She was locked in a room, drugged, gang raped and brutalized by countless men. It was night. The FBI told us to pick her up in Maryland the next morning.
We packed our cars with blankets and stuffed animals and arrived by 8 am, but we were told we couldn't see her, and were summoned before Judge Robert Kershaw late that afternoon. They didn't even tell Sage that we came for her. We finally entered the courtroom and Sage appears on a huge Zoom screen from a prison cell. She looks tiny and broken, and I cry out 'I love you Sage.' Sage responds 'I love you too, Nana.' But attorney Anisa Khan rebukes us. She is a 'he' and his name is 'Draco' not Sage. We were floored.
Khan accuses us of emotional and physical abuse, that we are misgendering her, even though we just learned she claims to be trans and we're willing to use any name and pronouns to bring her home. My husband was so tearful he kept forgetting the new pronouns, so the judge had the bailiff remove him from the courtroom. I was pleading for my child to be returned and treated for her unspeakable trauma. Judge Kershaw told me, if I use the word 'trauma' again, he would throw me out too.
For over two months, he withheld custody. He housed Sage in the male quarters of a children's home. Sage told me she was the only girl and repeatedly assaulted. She was given street drugs by the other kids and Khan told her she didn't care. She just wanted to win the case and all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. Khan tried to prove abuse, but we were eventually cleared by both states of all charges.
Sage later told me Khan had told her to lie that we hit her. Khan even had Sage's school counselors testify against us, though they barely knew Sage and they didn't know us at all. Khan told my precious child I didn't want her anymore. I found out Sage never received any of the letters I sent her.
Sage ran from the Children's Home and disappeared for months. They told me she might already be gone forever, but I couldn't give up and I finally found a tip on her social media that led the marshals to her in Texas. She had been drugged, raped, beaten and exploited. This time I was able to be with her for the traumatic rape exam, and to bring her home.
Back in Virginia, she entered the mental health facility that Judge Kershaw had ordered, as it would affirm her as a male. The therapist began pressuring her to have her healthy breasts removed. Sage was too scared to protest, but she asked me to secretly buy her girl's clothes because she wanted to be a girl, but keep them in the car. It took a kind lawyer, Josh Hetzler to secure her discharge.
After almost a year. Sage was finally home. Safe. Alive. Sage is receiving professional trauma care. The first trafficker has already been convicted. Sage has nightmares, panic attacks, rape-related medical issues, but there's hope. I tell her she's not broken she's just scarred. And part of that hope is that in courageously sharing her story, others will be saved.
Sage said she doesn't know who she was back then. She wasn't a boy, she just wanted to have friends. But her school, the judge, the attorney and the doctor were all blinded by their ideology. The consequences for Sage were unspeakable.
Please don't let ideology harm another child. Let parents do our jobs. We know our children best and we love them a million times more.
Thank you.
==
Jesus Christ. This girl was exploited by everybody, except for her parents, who were villainized for literally nothing. It's opposite world.
And the fact that everybody with authority prioritized stupid shit like pronouns and trying to coax her further down into a fake identity, even against her will, and other ideological bullshit over her actual wellbeing is disgraceful.
The judge and attorney need to be disbarred, the therapist stripped of their license, and everyone who conspired to separate Sage from her parents fired.
#Sage's Law#HB 2432#gender ideology#queer theory#ideological corruption#genderwang#safeguarding#child safeguarding#predators#groomers#predatory#gender cult#religion is a mental illness
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !!
word count : 7,7k
note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe).
enough of me talking, love u guys !!
the previous parts :
1 - love bite
2 - late night training
3 - unexpected mission
tag list :
@marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy
Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:
"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”
Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.
The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...
"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.
The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.
"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.
"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."
"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.
"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.
The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.
"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"
"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."
Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.
"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.
"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."
"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"
"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.
"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.
"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.
You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"
The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.
"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."
It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.
Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.
"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"
He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:
"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."
I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.
"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.
"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.
Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.
Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...
"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.
You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.
Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.
So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.
And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.
"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.
"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"
"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.
"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.
"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.
Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.
It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.
You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.
Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.
"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.
"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.
And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.
He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.
Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.
"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."
Oh, it won't be sleep.
He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.
The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.
It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.
His nose wrinkled slightly.
"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"
Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.
"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."
And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.
"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.
He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...
But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.
His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.
So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.
"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.
A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.
"Where," the question sounding more like a command.
His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.
"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.
You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.
"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.
It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.
The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.
His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.
"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."
His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.
"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.
Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.
You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.
He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.
His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:
"Kiss me," you whined, "please."
His eyes crinkled with his smile.
"Mira que buena."
He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.
Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.
He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.
"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”
Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.
"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.
All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.
"I want... I want you to..."
You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.
The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.
"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.
You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :
"I want you to fuck me."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.
His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.
"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.
You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.
You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.
And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:
"I want you to fuck me."
His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.
"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."
His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?
You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.
You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.
You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"
His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:
"Fuck me, please."
His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.
If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?
"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.
His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.
His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.
And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.
Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.
"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.
The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.
You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.
He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.
"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.
Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.
To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.
As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.
As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.
You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.
He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.
He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.
And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.
You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.
His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.
He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.
The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.
His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.
He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.
Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.
"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.
You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.
Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.
Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.
Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.
Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.
He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.
It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.
His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.
As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.
As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.
One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.
He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.
"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.
He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:
"Say that again."
A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.
"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."
He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.
His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.
"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"
Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.
"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.
Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.
"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.
"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.
His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.
"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.
"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.
His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.
"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."
With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.
Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.
Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.
The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.
You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.
"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."
The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.
"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"
His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.
"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.
"Use your words," he said simply.
"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."
He nodded, proud.
"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."
Timidly, you parted your lips.
"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.
You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.
Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.
His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.
"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.
"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.
He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:
"Ready?"
You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:
"Ready."
He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.
"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."
So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:
"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.
His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.
"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.
He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.
Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.
"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.
As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.
His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.
He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.
His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.
His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.
After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.
His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.
Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.
"Qué guapa," he breathed.
His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.
Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.
"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."
It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.
And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.
You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.
"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”
His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.
One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.
He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.
His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.
You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.
Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.
Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.
And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.
Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.
He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.
You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.
You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.
You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.
"How did you know?" he whispered.
The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.
"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.
He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.
"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.
"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.
"Two letters?" he asked, curious.
"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."
He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.
"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."
Us, two letters, a whole world.
#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x reader#astv x reader#miguel ohara#miguel x you#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel x y/n#miguel spiderman#miguel astv#smut#Spotify
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
husband!rafe and your kids attempt to prepare you a mother's day surprise! 💐
rafe sets down your daughter so she's sitting on the table after helping her put up some pastel ribbons, hearts and banners for decoration so he can walk over and check on the pancakes your son was in charge of.
"hey bud, those pancakes are lookin' a little...come on dude" he looms over the boy and put his hand on top of the little backwards baseball cap over your sons head.
"it's supposed to be mickey mouse!"
"well it looks like a sad bear...think mom will think they're cute?" rafe makes a face and turns his head to see more of the "sad bears" already on a plate.
"what do i know!?" your son shrugs and drops a few more chocolate chips onto the cooking pancake.
"ehh s'alright we'll just cover'em in syrup, whipped cream or something" rafe reasons with himself when your son arm swings back after trying to flip like a chef, ironically the most decent looking pancake flies to the opposite wall and splat! its ruined.
"aw man!" your son whines and rafe gasps dramatically. "careful!! jesus!!" he rushes over to clean the mess on the wall when your daughter screams and points to the oven. both rafe and your son's heads turn quickly to where she's pointing. "what? what's wrong baby?" rafe asks all panicked.
"dad! the oven!" your son backs away from the pancakes as the oven pours out black smoke, the french toast on fire. "what is that!?" your son furrows his eyebrows and runs to open a window. "its the french toast- or it was." rafe's face hardens in concentration, hoping the fire alarm wouldn't go off and wake you up, he grabs a towel to start to "put out the fire" or "cool it down" but that just makes the fire worse causing the alarm to ring. your daughters hands fly to cover her ears as she sits there watching, your son grabs the water in the glass jar on the table and hands it to rafe who splashes it on the flaming french toast.
"what's going on!?" you walk into the kitchen in you nightgown, picking up your daughter and holding her on your hip. the alarm still ringing, you turn your head to see your son stood on a chair trying to get the smoke away from the alarm to get it to stop. "go back to bed mama! everything's fine!" rafe shouts over the ringing and closes the oven quickly, he takes your daughter into his arms so he can shoo you away.
"kay guys, what do'we got?" rafe sighs after sorta cleaning up the mess and sits on the table with his kids. "we've still got the pancakes." your son points to the now broken plate with ruined pancakes due to the commotion earlier.
"uh nah bud, we've gotta scrap that."
"i have bubblegum grampa gave me for easter!" you daughter lights up as she offers. "no princess, you keep your bubblegum, we'll think of something else." rafe smile and smooths his hand over her messy baby hairs.
"well there's vanilla ice cream in the freezer and at least a few chip's ahoys in the pink jar." you son's eyebrows shoot up at the realization. "and strawberry wafers above the fridge." the boy points to where the wafers where supposed to be hidden.
"right, that works..." rafe smiles and picks up your baby girl to place on his hip and give a bunch of kisses to.
"oh my goodness! whats this!" you smile brightly sitting in your bed, pausing the movie you were watching as you see your little family come through the door, your daughter runs up to your side and hands you a card she made with glitter and lace. "thank you baby this is very sweet." you place the card against your heart momentarily, rafe walks up and places a silver tray on your lap with little scoops of ice cream, wafers and cookies. "happy mothers day mama" rafe smiles, quite proud of the little breakfast they managed to come up with last minute.
"thank you baby" you continue to smile, reaching your hand out to place on rafe's cheek as he bends down to give you a kiss. "there's more ice cream if you want s'more after, happy mother's day!" your son says smiling showing all his teeth and handing you a bouquet of casablanca lilies and a few of his baseball cards that he considers presents, you giggle and reach over to embrace him as well.
"s'very nice of you guys, so many beautiful mother's day presents!" you tell your kids.
"its not over yet, i've got s'more gifts for you in the living room." rafe grins and hands you a spoon for the ice cream. "i love you do you know that?" he asks and you nod.
"i do, and i love you, all of you guys very much. what happened in the kitchen earlier? everything okay?"
"i just wanna say again, i love you so very much." rafe smiles innocently ❤️
i wanna marry himmm
#sexilene'sobx⋆₊ ⊹#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#rafe x reader#rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe cameron thoughts#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#dad!rafe#husband!rafe#dad!rafe cameron
393 notes
·
View notes
Text
food for the tummy-141
child!reader, babysitter!141
Kate putting 141 in charge of her child so they can learn to be more gentle with kids when on rescue missions
Price: so now we go to the park, Soap, strap the child to you
Soap: why can't Gaz?
Gaz: I almost dropped the kid today
Soap: and what about Ghost?
Ghost: if you guys want me to stop pestering you when I'm bored, it's best I look single and childless
Price: as for me, I don't need any more accidents on my blouse
Soap: fine *straps child!rn to him* are you okay?
R/N: I'm tired
Soap: why?
R/N: it may be the hunger
Gaz: but you've just eaten
R/N: Oh that's right...maybe I didn't eat enough *pouts and rubs their tummy*
Price: don't look at that face or else we'll all fall for that trap again
*Ghost is already walking to the nearest vendor for a snack*
#cod mw2#cod#cod x reader#mwii#ghost cod#cod 141#mw2 141#141#task force 141#141 x reader#incorrect call of duty quotes#cod incorrect quotes#incorrect cod quotes#cod modern warfare#cod ghost#cod mwii#cod gaz#cod price#cod mw3#cod soap#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare
571 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is ridiculous.
Eddie has important stuff To Do. He's a busy rockstar with a never ending list of stuff his manager and agent keep reminding him that he needs to get done while he's not on tour.
But. His house is being remodeled. And one of the carpenters or handymen or journey...men? journey people? whatever. One of the dudes in a tool belt. Well - he's hot as all hell and Eddie can't seem to find a single fuck to mark off that To Do list.
Every day this man shows up in jeans that hug his ass, a tool belt slung low to one side and this pristine white polo shirt with a logo over his left pec. The other people - people not men because there are actually three women in the mix, all with arms that could crush Eddie, and if he was into chicks, he'd be looking respectfully - are all in various dark colored shirts with a similar logo on the back or in the same spot on the chest.
But White Polo is the only white polo. White Polo must be in charge. He does seem to give a lot of orders. He's got big sexy hair and a strong voice. The first time Eddie was close enough to hear him talk, he had some feelings about that strong voice giving orders. The kind of feelings he explored later that night in his own bed. Alone.
It's not a mean voice though, not aggressive. Rather, it's the kind of voice that steadies you in a storm, that you can rely on. The kind of voice that probably sounds gravelly and sleep mussed on a Saturday morning. The kind you want to wake up to. The voice that Eddie wants to wake up to.
And it's not just the voice and the looks. It's the competency, too. Earlier this morning, White Polo was helping the crew put some kind of wood frame up. He hammered something in and then twirled the hammer and stuffed it in the tool belt all without looking. That was going directly to Eddie's spank bank. Maybe he could find other things for them to remodel so White Polo never has to leave.
"Mr. Munson?"
Eddie startles, almost dropping his Garfield coffee mug. There's a lot of noise in the house and he was sort of doing one of the things on his list. Writing a song in his head. It was definitely not about a man in a tool belt. Nor was it about anyone getting nailed.
Jesus Christ.
Clearing his throat, Eddie turns to White Polo, "It's just Eddie."
"Well, Just Eddie, I'm Steve." His voice is soft, strong though, with that little bit of gravel. It's not Eddie's fault at all that he's imagining him whispering in Eddie's ear when they're both sleep warm and too comfortable to get out of bed. "Looks like we'll be done here in another two days."
"Oh." He says dejectedly, not meaning to have such an honest reaction but he can't help himself. He's wasted three days just glancing at White Polo - Steve - from afar. Now Eddie's on a time limit. Two days isn't nearly enough time. Would it be inappropriate to invite him to dinner? Or to stay? Ask him for --"Coffee?"
Steve smiles and it's kind of small, like it's a secret smile, just for Eddie. Brushing his hair back over his ear, Steve says, "I shouldn't but...your coffee smells kinda great so...sure."
Grinning, Eddie tells him that he gets the beans from this little mom and pop shop that brews their own beans. The band discovered them on tour years ago and he still gets his beans shipped from them every few months. He's babbling but he can't seem to stop himself, telling Steve about different roasts and his fancy machine that cost more than his first van back when he was sixteen and living in a trailer park.
Leaning against the counter, Steve listens patiently, watching Eddie with hazel eyes and that little smile. He's got these cute moles that Eddie wants to kiss. Broad shoulders he wants to feel pressed up against the backs of his knees.
Shit. He almost spills the coffee when his face suddenly heats up at that.
"Everything okay?" There's concern in Steve's voice and he reaches out to steady Eddie's arm. His callused fingers brush Eddie's arm just over his bat tattoo and...oh.
It's like nothing he's ever imagined. So much more than all the stories. It's the biggest, brightest, most intense thing Eddie's ever felt. Just a brush of fingertips and the spots light up with gold. Three brushes across the bats' wings and a fourth smaller one off to the side. Eddie can feel the tingling on the underside of his forearm where Steve's thumb must have brushed as well.
Surging forward, Eddie cups Steve's cheek, leaving a bright gold palm print on his jaw, a thumb smear up by the cheek bone, bits of gold in the shapes of fingers curling along the side of his throat, and one little dab on the lobe of Steve's ear. Their lips are pressed together before Steve's fully reacted to the soul bond but that's okay. They don't have two days, they've got forever.
A few years later, when Corroded Coffin wins album of the year at the Grammys, Gareth takes the mic away from Eddie as he's doing all the polite thank yous to managers and agents etc - and he thanks Steve, telling the world, "If Steve had never been a hot guy in a tool belt, Eddie would never have written Golden Bats, Hammer of Love or, Eddie's favorite," Gareth says, grinning and leaning really close to the mic like it's a secret, 'cause it kind of is, "Ride the White Polo."
My Masterlist
While there are other gold touch soulmate mark fics, I've only ever read them in @kangofu-cb's Gold on Your Fingertips in the Winterhawk fandom and it will always be both one of my favorite soulmate fics and one of my favorite Clint Barton fics.
#I'm so so gay for a soulmate fic#Also on the album is To Do Me List#construction worker steve harrington#Just steve in a toolbelt really#send me you favorite soulmate recs i will read them all#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [MAYDAY] ❞
pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader.
summary: you've never seen hotchner so mad at you. but maybe it's a good thing.
content warnings: power imbalance. age-gap. suggestive. most of these are more of a if you squint kind of deal.
word count: 800+
a/n: not the best but i'm not gonna keep working on it whateverrrrr
You fucked up and you knew it, a terrible mistake, a rookie mistake at that. Prematurely telling a victim's family the squad had found and detained the Unsub and then having to deal with a father getting into the precinct gun in hand when it was leaked said unsub was getting released without any charges.
Containing him took all of your strength and Derek's help, but having to admit to Hotch's angry face, brows furrowed, that you were the reason that it happened... That was soul crushing. Your legs had been trembling from the moment he asked, his we'll talk later in a tone you've never heard directed at you doing nothing to help your nerves.
The ride back to the hotel after the actual Unsub was captured was a quiet one, so quiet you almost think you're off the hook. Aaron looks almost serene while driving, but you should've known better, you should've known he was just holding off.
The minute his hand gripped your wrist and followed you into your room you knew it though, he really wasn't the type to say something and not follow up on it.
"What were you thinking!?" That's probably the first time he raises his voice at you and your heart sank. What were you thinking? On how to bring some comfort to the family. So you weren't really thinking, not the way that you should have. You don't reply, it makes his eyes darken even more, as if you not trying to defend yourself made it worse. "Innocent lives were almost lost today because of your lack of professionalism!"
Lack of professionalism? Supposed to be a nicer way to tell it was because of your big mouth, but it somehow made you feel worse. You were a good agent, you did a good job. You wouldn't have been transferred there two years prior if that wasn't true. He was making you feel small, when usually working by his side made you feel like a superhero of some sort.
"I'm sorry, Hotchner, I don't know what else you want me to say." Your voice is much lower than his, your arms are crossed in front of your chest as you rub your hands on them, trying to find some sort of comfort in yourself as you dealt with the disappointment coming from the man you secretly harbored only the sweetest of feelings for.
He notices it of course, Aaron always notices the small ways your body shows what you're feeling, so his hands go through his hair and he's frustrated so he huffs loudly and he should just drop it off, he knows it, but you're his soft spot and he has to remind himself of that to avoid letting you slip up, you have too much potential to let it go to waste. "Being sorry doesn't save lives."
"I know that I—"
"You have to follow protocol." The way he interrupts you makes your eyes water and you know soon enough you're going to be a sobbing mess if he doesn't stop talking. You're not even a crier, so that's about to become much more humiliating if it happens in front of him. "They exist for a reason, you can't just do whatever you want, especially if it's something st—" it is your time to interrupt him.
But with a kiss.
Your arms are dropped to your sides, your feet slightly tipped to reach his lips with yours in a act of courage, yes, but mostly despair.
He could not see you cry. Seeing you mess up so bad was enough. You couldn't let him think you couldn't handle the job, the scolding.
And that was definitely not your brightest idea, but the way he doesn't even flinch before kissing you back with much more hunger than yourself, his right hand to your throat and the left pulling your waist shows you that maybe you should've done this much earlier.
You melt into his arms and you can feel every muscle on his body tense up when your hands grab onto his waist. His lips only leave yours when he can sense your trouble breathing, but Aaron doesn't do anything else that could separate you two, his hands stay glued to you, his eyes almost hypnotized by yours as you work on catching your breath.
"You're really terrible following rules, huh?" His mockery is followed by his teeth pulling on your lower lip ever so softly, but it still earns him a quick moan from you.
"Yeah but..." You stop yourself to gather just a bit more of courage before closing in on him, your lips brushing against his face as you got closer to his ear, your voice a whisper only, as if it made your following teasing less wrong. "I'm very good at following orders."
"I'll be the judge of that."
#lari writes sometimes#aaron x reader#aaron x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds x reader#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch imagine#hotch scenario
548 notes
·
View notes
Text
@jegulus-microfic / february 18: pet / word count: 572 cw: foul language and violent behavior
James doesn't easily get annoyed, but his biggest pet peeve is people who do not say hello when they arrive at a place, so every time it's his turn to be in charge of the till at the cafe where he works, he struggles to control the twitch in his eye. When the next customer only mutters "venti iced americano, hurry" without even looking up from his phone and throws the money on the counter, he just puts on his best customer service smile and clenches his fists.
Not even five minutes have passed since the order was placed but the man in his early forties is tapping his fingers loudly on the delivery counter and alternating between staring at his watch and at James insistently. Fortunately, there aren't too many customers at this time of day, so Lily and Mary don't take too long to get the man's order ready.
"Is it too fucking hard to make a good fucking drink? I asked you for iced and this is lukewarm!" says the man in a voice loud enough to silence the café that was previously echoing with the soft conversations of customers.
Under normal circumstances James would probably have explained that all that needs to be done to make the drink colder is simply to stir it, but putting on his best smile he offers a "Oh, sorry about that. We'll redo it!" the customer is always right and that shit, right?
So when the drink is handed to him for the second time and the man literally spits the sip he took on Mary, James is ready for a confrontation.
"Are you an idiot or some kind of mentally retarded? This doesn't taste like fucking anything! You bunch of morons were dropped on your heads when you were babies. And you pair of bitches..."
Just as James is about to leap over the counter and punch this asshole, the man is pushed and cornered against the wall in the blink of an eye.
"Can you shut the fuck up?" says Regulus, one of the regulars who comes almost every day after work, shaking the man by the collar of his shirt with his ringed hands. And if James always notices how he sits at the table closest to the counter, and they constantly exchange glances it's nobody's business.
"But-"
"I don't give a shit, you've been throwing a tantrum this whole time and I won't take it anymore so get the fuck out of here this very second or I'm going to shove what's left of your coffee so deep up your ass to see if you can finally taste it." Regulus continues before pushing him against the wall one last time and letting him go.
The lovely customer starts to walk slowly towards the exit, but halfway there he turns around as if to say something.
"I promise they'll be finding your remains for the next four months if you don't walk out that door now," the silver-eyed man says before the forty-year-old can add anything else. The thing is, he says it so menacingly, like he really means it, that James feels weak in the knees.
Physical or verbal violence isn't supposed to be attractive, but this may have awakened something in James.
So please, no one judge him when a few hours later he ends up tangled in his bed from head to toe with Regulus.
#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#james x regulus#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus microfic#marauders#the marauders#they are so silly#len writes
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
When people come to my town, they seem to assume that the Great Magnet is a metaphor, or a tourist trap at worst. I can assure you, dear reader, that it is neither. For reasons unknown to me, our town forefathers – and one foremother who tried to pull out of the project when she figured out which way the wind was blowing – built a really big electromagnet in the centre of town. And then they realized that there was no way to power it on.
For hundreds of years, it has sat immobile as Town Hall was built around it, just daring someone to devise a power supply stronger than those they had available in 1802. Sure, a lot of fancy-pants industrial designers tried to get the eight-storey-tall electromagnet removed. It clashed with their vision for the productive space. Thing is, the town's founding laws say "no touchy the magnet," so they couldn't do much about the magnet. The magnet, that is, and its massive copper lugs sticking out the back, begging for a little bit of hot sauce.
Now, even without electricity, a chunk of ferrous material this large has some strange effects. The weather around it is really cold, and occasionally seagulls will loop infinitely around it until they drop from exhaustion, their internal sense of navigation disrupted by some passing force that has coupled into the magnet and gently charged its field. During the town Egg Festival, you could occasionally hear the AM radio Community Events Cruiser's broadcast through its surface, until Shopkeeper Ted drunkenly touched the surface of the Great Magnet and was instantly reduced to ash.
We'll switch it on one day, we tell each other. Big nuclear plant just opened a few towns over, that's got enough beef to spin it up. And then we look around at all the cool shit we own that's made out of metal, more than there ever was over 200 years ago. We think about all the things we have to lose.
Sometimes, on the Magnet's annual anniversary night speech, The Mayor will sometimes try to scare us with the size of the power bill, the magnitude of our tax dollars, that it would take to let 'er rip, just this once, as if the spectre of a few bucks a month extra would discourage us further from turning on a machine that would cleave the world in half.
294 notes
·
View notes
Text
sehr schön
summary: payback sucks (part 2 to this req)
könig x gn!reader
warnings: mdni (18+), blowjob, reference to smut, slight spit play, maybe voyeurism?, est relationship
"Price doesn't want you on my team darling"
He's sitting at his desk, his back leaning against the chair while his legs are spread wide, you had stormed into his office a few minutes prior, the orders to have you and König on separate teams coming from Price after your last mission failure.
"How is that fair, we work well together"
"Apparently you get distracted when we're on an op"
You cross your arms over your chest, furrowing your brows at him, "More like you purposely distract me"
"Maybe you should better your focus"
You open your mouth for a comeback but a knock on his door interrupts you,
"Oi Colonel, teams here awaiting orders"
A lightbulb goes off in your head, grinning as you move closer to him,
"You have to go my love"
You give a small hum in response, kneeling lower while you keep your eyes on him,
"Maus" He warns
"You know you should relax more, you're the one in charge"
He settles his alms against the desk, his eyes darting between the door and you as you move under the table, your palm running over his thighs.
"You in there König?"
"Better stay quiet" You grin
"Yes, you can, um you can come in" He stumbles over his words, his cheeks hot under his hood as he shuffles in closer to the desk, keeping you hidden.
"Right, men are here and ready for your orders" Soap stands in the door frame, turning his body to allow a few men into the room, all of them watching König, waiting for his response.
"Right, so we'll move in" His voice catches in his throat as your fingers work to undo his belt, biting your lip in anticipation. He continues to explain the drop-in route for the mission, assigning a few positions, you grin as you pull his pants lower, his length throbbing under the thin cloth of his briefs, you palm him over the fabric, enjoying the way his fingers grip on the corner of the desk.
"Reynolds you'll cover us from above, Soap will plant explosives to get us in" His breath hitches as you slowly pull his underwear lower, letting his cock spring free, wetting your lips with your tongue at the sight of his tip, dripping with pre cum. You place a small lick to it and his stomach tightens, arching his hips forward wanting more,
"I'll lead in, clear the first floor and wait for instruction then, Soap you'll" He lets out a heavy breath, "You'll lead team two"
"You alright Sir?"
"Me? I'm fine, just tired" He shakes his head, you let out a small laugh around his cock, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth as you sink lower, flattening your tongue to lick up his length. You bob slowly up and down, letting your spit coat him as it drips to his base, wetting his pubic hair. He lets out a groan as you bury his tip in the back of your throat, his hips thrusting lightly as you dig your fingers into the flesh of his thigh, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, his face flustered as the men in front of him share a look of concern.
"So, we move from there, weapons hot we don't know how many hostiles there are"
He bites his lip, holding back his groans as the men discuss between themselves, nodding along to their questions, feeling his balls grow tighter as you work him.
You place a hand around his shaft, working the length that won't fit in your mouth, pumping him faster as you hollow your cheeks, running your tongue over his tip with every bob. You snake a hand down his thigh, moving to cup his balls and he squeezes his eyes shut, quietly muttering in German as he rocks his hips, you hum, the vibration causing him to clear his throat as the men turn back to him.
"Shouldn't take more than an hour to clear, we have execute authority" He stops himself for a moment, too focused on the fact that you've pulled off him, he glances down for a moment, his wide eyes on your hooded ones as you stare at him through your lashes, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips as he watches you lean in, kissing the head of his cock before letting some saliva drip from your mouth onto it.
"So capture or kill?" Soap's voice breaks his gaze, Königs eyes squinting for a moment as he processes the words,
"Yes, leave no witnesses"
The men nod, collecting their files before moving out of the room, König relaxes his shoulders for a moment, his hand slowly shifting to settle on your head,
"Sorry about your mission the other day"
His body freezes as his eyes land on Soap, standing in the doorframe, he wills him to leave but he keeps talking. Königs chest is heavy with his breaths, he's getting closer with every flick of your tongue.
"If it's any consolation you shouldn't blame Viper, I've never seen them miss a shot"
You grin to yourself, your hands working in tandem to knead his balls as your spit-coated digits work his length,
"Yes it was unfortunate" He grumbles
You remove your hand, pushing his cock to the back of your throat, your nose rubbing against his pelvis as his hand shoots to the back f your head, his fingers holding you against him as he twitches his hips back and forth. You feel his stomach tighten, raking your nails over his skin as he struggles to contain his moans, shooting his cum into the back of your throat as you swallow it greedily, your mouth milking him for every drop as his body stutters, Soaps words escape his ears as he continues to talk, König nodding lightly as he finishes.
"Anyways, see you on deck Sir" Soap nods, leaving the room.
The door closes and König pushes his chair back, his softening cock resting against his stomach as he stares down at you, your cheeks red as you wipe your spit-soaked chin, smiling back at him. He runs his thumb over your lower lip, feeling his cock twitch slightly, as he drops his head back, sighing.
You move from under the desk, standing to rest against it as he carefully tucks himself back into his pants, "You should work on your focus"
"You're cruel"
"Mm, paybacks a bitch" You lean down to him, your hand lifting his hood above his lips so you can kiss them, savouring his taste for a moment before pulling back.
"I'll see you after the mission darling"
"I hope so"
#konig call of duty#konig smut#konig x reader#cod konig#cod mw2#konig cod#konig fluff#konig mw2#konig imagine#konig x you#konig#konig fanfiction#konig fic#konig x y/n#sub konig#konig x gn!reader#cod mwii#cod smut#cod mw x reader#mw2 x reader#call of duty mwii#mwii#könig mw2
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Like Me (Pt. 3)
Art by Rendraws21 on X
WARNINGS: Emotional distress, Masturbation (M! receiving), a hint of angst, body injuries, no proofread, no use of Y/N, non graphic canon character's death, Character background.
Summary: As your bond with Miguel rises, your time runs short.
A/N: Thanks for the wait lovelies! Hope you like! <3. Reblogs and feedback much appreciated. Btw, Happy Pride Month! <3
Previous
"Mama!"
The young boy held on his mother's skirt as he watched the flames roar through the carcass of a sinking ship.
"Hold on tight, Miguel." Conchata mumbled as she tinkered with the escape boat's lever.
Both hers and Miguel's weight dropped the boat to the sea and Miguel fell, but quickly scrambled to his feet as Conchata held him close.
"We'll be fine okay?"
Conchata instructed to his seven year old boy to take a paddle and move it. Not long after, Tyler jumped to the water and hopped on the careening boat, gasping for air while he watched his expedition and boat, the labor of so many years, going to the depths of the raging and unknown sea.
Miguel watched with fear, as thunders roared, lighting up the sky, the waves crashed against the boat he was in, menacing to tip it away just enough for him to fall down into the cold and unforgiving waters.
Ash, burning metal and salt filled in his lungs as he was taken away from the wreckage. The land before them wasn't any prettier, but it was better than nothing.
Mexico and Alchemax could wait. After all, Tyler headed to his partner's homeland to start a new HQ in it's capital. He wasn't married, yet he already had a son.
A boy that looked more like his mother than anything, little like him and held onto her skirt, watching the destruction with all the fear his little heart could handle.
----
Miguel helped in whatever thing he could. Their makeshift home sure provided the shelter they needed from the weather's and jungle's ruthless laws, where only the strongest survived.
Tyler's brain and brawn had provided a solid structure in a giant tree. Conchata was in charge of the food and Miguel as well. But in truth it was only a decoy to keep him busy, and not thinking about the uncertainty that cornered his parents deeper into fate's cold arms.
The boy could only watch in curiosity as his mother's womb grew larger and larger by each day. And despite the constant arguments and yelling, Tyler made sure Miguel understood his place in the top chain. He always encouraged his boy to not fear his surroundings, to not cry if there wasn't any reason to do so and to be brave. The only streak of parenthood he showed.
But as a boy, Miguel couldn't understand much. It didn't make sense as to why Tyler insisted him in being strong, despite his young age. Miguel didn't know why Conchata cried at night, and repeated over and over, what would they do, and asked when the rescuers would come.
Cause they were sure the telegraph system worked perfectly before the ship sunk, and hoped with all their might the message had gone through.
But five months later, they still remained stuck, stranded and forsaken by society. Hopelessness begun nesting in everyone's hearts and soon, it paved the way for desperation and death.
Conchata had put Miguel in the sturdiest of wooden boxes and begged him to be quiet. A spotted beast had trespassed the security systems Tyler, had put around the uncovered entrances, meaning a bunch of stuff clattering and making noise to spook away anything that dared to enter.
They had kept the monkeys away, but how on earth were they supposed to withstand the natural predators without guns? Or anything that held an actual resistance against them?
There wasn't.
And Tyler was the first in falling before it's hungry maws despite the man being the tallest many had known. The thunderous roars outside were kind enough to drown Conchata's panicked and agonizing screams, leaving Miguel afraid yet safe in the box. The jungle had claimed itself as the temporary victor over them all.
The rest, was a nightmare Miguel sometimes wished to forget. But it was a good reminder of how different he was from his pack. His family.
A family that despite taking him in as a kid, and nurtured him, felt completely strange. So not his, not belonging and away.
He knew he looked different from the rest. His body wasn't completely covered in fur, despite some areas teeming with it, yet it wasn't enough for him, neither his father. A silver back gorilla, the pack's chief.
Even if he imitated their walk, their manners, to the point of having his knuckles slowly rearranging into a holding posture, he wouldn't be one of them. And sometimes his back hurt as he tried to keep that position for too long. He wasn't made like them. His sense of belonging truly betrayed him some days.
But you...
You and the men that came along were like him. And how marveled he was by the variety of his own kind. Tall, lanky, strong and burly, round and short, a bit like him but smaller. And then you.
Not only you came with a lot of things and trinkets that piqued his curiosity, but the way you spoke, the child like wonder that appeared into your face as you discovered new things, made his brain tingle. His heart raced whenever you explained him something, to the point of getting infected with your excitement too.
He didn't know what he liked to see and admire the most. Your face, your body, your voice, your hair. But your hands were definitely his favorite.
Miguel could spend hours and hours watching you move that piece of wood that left a trace on the white sheets, even if his absence made his mother worried. And whenever you laughed, his heart was all stupid and pumping excitedly in his chest. You didn't hoot in excitement like he did, and when he learned how to laugh from you, the sound of his voice had you fascinated.
Deep, rich and oh so gorgeous to ignore, specially when he tripped over his own words, by trying to read a new sentence in the current book you had picked, cause it earned him a giggle out of you. He spent his days holed up with you in the makeshift projector room, learning new things and expanding his vocabulary, only to disappear before the sun sunk down.
You taught him about things his brain had long forgotten, as it was too busy to survive all those years ago on his own. The different images slid through, changing within the clicking sound of your fingers in the weird shaped control.
The planets, a man, a member of his family, many other animals, a woman, plants, food; tools, different scenarios mankind had created, structures that stood as majestic in the picture as they did in real life, everything that the tiny piece of technology could hold, was shown to him.
Each of the images were devoured with child like wonder and thrill by his eyes. He grunted happily whenever he saw things he was familiar with, and hissed at those that somehow still rendered a threat to his wellbeing, even if they couldn't harm him.
Much to your amazement, he was a fast learner. He devoured whatever you threw at him in matter of hours. And if an image called his attention, he'd show it to you, and wait for you to explain how it worked or what was it.
Much to your embarrassment, he had shown you a picture of a woman's anatomy, and pointed at your breast. It made you recall the little moment back up in the tree after you almost drowned.
That little tease had been enough to spark something rusty in your brain. Something that had been postponed over and over due to your research, to the point off simply evading you naturally from now on.
"I am a woman. You, a man. We are different, but still the same species."
"Different? You and me?" He shook his head with a borderline cute frown if it wasn't for him looking concerned, "No. You. Me," He pointed between you both, "The Same."
He took your face in his calloused hands and once again pressed his thumbs against your lips, to pry then open. Rough pads of him caressed your wet muscle and explored gently your mouth and your cheeks burned.
Specially when he imitated to perfection the sounds of the animals you had drawn in the sketchbook. Birds and animals alike.
No matter how many times you explained, he always kept making sure you'd understand that you were like him. What surprised you the most was the utter gentleness he moved whenever his solid and well worked body was around you.
Miguel moved in his tiptoes and knuckles and followed you to the simplest of task, asking what you were doing and how it worked. Some things came easier to understand than others, but his intelligence always surprised you.
Peter sometimes joined you and the teaching, whenever he wasn't under Kraven's command to help him look for rare minerals. Just to make sure you were okay. Although Miguel wasn't harmful, that didn't mean he couldn't be a threat. Not when Peter recalled you telling him how the man before you killed a Jaguar with his bare hands.
And Miguel's attitude towards him, was mostly curious. You and Peter were the only ones Miguel truly approached.
Peter taught him his good share of things, like shaving. He helped Miguel to give him a more clean look on his face as the savage refused to have scissors or anything sharp around his body, but his facial hair made him uncomfortable. It scratched and the urge or tear them away only increased.
Peter was terrified to see the dangerous methods Miguel used to groom himself. Meaning a sharp stone and aloe slime smeared on his face. Undoubtedly, the geologist didn't want to learn the details of Miguel's routine. And so far, his new friend seemed comfortable enough with his razor around his neck.
In fact, as soon as his stubble grew, he dragged Peter from whatever task he was doing and asked him to trim it down for him.
"I believe you can learn how to do it on your own, pal." Peter grumbled as Miguel sniffed the shaving cream, then join you once again.
Sometimes you were concerned by the sudden scars that appeared in his body, like if Miguel had fought something. And refused to tell you. Instead he'd take your hands and stare your way as if memorizing every inch of your factions.
"Are you ok, Miguel?"
He'd grunt softly and look at his hands holding yours. You only broke the contact to clean his wounds.
----
"It's been almost two weeks since we arrived and we've seen nothing but animals that we can see at a fucking zoo."
Kraven grumbled after takin a long swallow of vodka and looked your way.
"It's been a week since your savage friend shows up, why he won't take us with his pack?!"
"I don't know! He refuses to-"
"Are you even teaching him useful things? We need to see gorillas, Dalhberg. Gorillas. Not how a fucking savage has the hots for you."
Your eyes rolled and a sigh came out.
"Look, he's refusing for a reason. Every time he shows up there is a new wound on him."
"Then find out what is it! Use the stupid attachment he has for you, in your favor! Do something! We're running out of time."
And that pulled a scowl on your face. How dared he even suggesting something as dishonest and disgusting as that? You knew Miguel was hiding something and his refusal for you to see the gorillas kept rooting deeper, to the point of making him upset. So you stopped asking, and helped to ease his troubled mind with other things and tasks instead.
"I try my best in doing my job, Sergei." You bit back and Peter stood next to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
"Fucking try harder then! The other ship is picking us up in nine days. And we still have nothing. You have one more chance to get that brute to take us to see the fucking gorillas."
Kraven went to the entrance, "One more chance." He warned before leaving you and Peter on your own.
"Son of a bitch." you kicked a beer bottle out of your way and Peter sighed, annoyed.
"Im not liking where this is going. I don't like his insistence in the gorillas and the soil."
"You think I do?! I'm worried about Miguel. He seems off and snappier these days. And there is always a new cut or scratch on him."
"Remember he's grown up here, Dally. He knows his way around things. He ain't stupid. Probably is fighting for territory against a threat? Or cut in his way here. He's a big man, prone to accidents, mind you.
"Big or not, I still worry. Something is going on with him. And if honest? I'm getting uncomfortable with Sergei."
"Oh really?" Peter deadpanned and you slapped his arm.
"I mean it, you ass. Like... One thing is competing against Octavius and Osborn, but he's acting like a fucking collector. Have you seen how many new furs he has dried out in the sun lately?"
Peter rubbed his neck, trying to ease the tension building up.
"We don't even know if those creatures are in extinction or if they're a protected species, Parker. I know we signed a contract, but this is getting out of hand."
"Dally" He sighed and placed his hand on your shoulders, like every damn time he was about to lecture you and he'd end up being right.
"You know what happens to those people that mess with Kravinoff or any man with power enough to pay an expedition like this, right?"
You nodded and looked away while he rubbed some sense into you.
"I know you care about him and the animals here. But you know we can't do much about it. You know how Kraven is."
"Still, Peter, I-"
"I know you care. And that is what has brought you so far, but we gotta be careful. He nearly kills you the other day!"
He reasoned and you sat on a nearby stool, completely at lost on how to proceed. As usual and again, Peter was right.
"If it wasn't for Miguel, I'd be burying you by now."
"Then is only fair to protect him and his family, Pete. I'm well aware of the dangers this field implies, I just... can't let something happens to him." Your hands clasped and unclasped anxiously, "Like... Can you imagine the excitement he must feel to finally find people, humans like him, just to find out they only want his family for a zoo?"
Peter nodded and held your hands gently, trying to ease the inevitable heartbreak.
"I know. And I know you've done your best in keeping him distracted. But you can't shelter him forever from life, Dally."
"Is not that! I don't wanna feel like I'm betraying him, Pete."
Peter's heart sunk at your words. Sometimes your field required a cold heart, something yours was everything but.
"He's been nothing but kind to me, he has saved my life twice! And taken me to see things I only dreamed of. The least I can do is to warn him. Even if that means to not see him again."
"Don't say that. Now you're insulting him and the animals. You think he ain't smart enough to not know what is going on? Or the animals not strong enough?"
You sniffed and Peter offered you his handkerchief.
"He'll be fine. Same for the gorillas. I might not be a scientist, but I wouldn't be fool enough to mess with those beasts. Kraven thinks he can do it. Let him have that. Men like him don't have a good ending."
He hugged your trembling form, and rubbed your back gently. Like he always did.
Little did you know a pair of beady red eyes watched you both with a frown from a nearby thicket.
Miguel didn't show up for the next two days.
-----
Where is he?
Miguel's absence increased your worry tenfold, the first day you thought none of it, that maybe he had business or whatever he did, to attend. It sure raised more questions than answers. Where did he stay during the nights? Was he sleeping well? Had something happened?
Before your mind could take a sour you breathed and hopped over a tree trunk on the floor to get to the camp.
Once more you'd return with empty hands and the guard Sergei had assigned you seemed more than happy to forsake you in the jungle and return to the base.
But in truth, any other moment away would give you some peace and ease the nerves that Kraven's crew made sure to break and upset. Specially after you found them all gathered in the projector room, jeering and cheering at nothing else but a porn clip.
Some even had the guts to suggest you to get something, cause your pissy and irritable attitude haf started to get upsetting. And others offered their services for such thing as you turned the thing off.
Kraven could be an ass and many other things, but to your surprise a little decency remained in him. He warned his crew about consequences of anyone trying something with you.
You knew he only kept you alive for the sake of getting to Miguel.
With a sigh, you entered the camp, ignored the roll of eyes many gave you, and the withering glare from the leader and went straight to your tent.
Peter was busy with another motor the crew had gotten from the shore, he tinkered with the pieces, too busy to even acknowledge your presence.
Night rolled in, you had dinner and soon, you went to your tent to prepare another day of search, even if you had to do it on your own. Those two days of pure silence and no clues about Miguel's whereabouts weighted more than your backpack full of rare minerals.
You changed into your sleeping clothes, and soon headed for the projector room to update your finding log and journals.
To your surprise, the projector light was on. A frown came up your face once again, as you made your way towards the sturdy tent. Upon entering you saw none, but the screen turned on, and the lost signal title bouncing on the screen.
God, I'll tell Kraven to leave this thing off and-
A whimper.
Your eyes blinked at the sound as another came, it wasn't a regular one but the kind you heard the man doing in that clip.
You took a bottle, ready to strike the pervert that had remained behind to ease himself and use your tools for disgusting purposes. Only to find the ever familiar figure of Miguel, sprawled on the floor, behind the wooden boxes that acted as occasional seats.
"M-Miguel?"
He heaved and growled quietly, his muscles tensed when he heard you. Would you be mad at him for disappearing? He had seen your worried face, not really wanting to cause even more distraught in you, but the sensations in his body had been too good to be left alone.
A couple of books were sprawled on the floor, a little mess on the shelves as if someone had been looking for the projector's control. Which, laid at Miguel's feet, nearly broke in two.
The white dim light illuminated Miguel's silhouette and your eyes raked over his feet, to inspect if he wasn't injured then crept up his knees, past his thighs and
Oh...
Your cheeks grew impossibly flushed as your scrutinizing gaze stopped at Miguel's hips, more like what laid between them.
One of his strong, tan hands was wrapped on the base, with such viciousness it made you gulp with worry, as the other squeezed with the same force his broad tip. And then, you stopped at his face.
Angry, flustered, awash with need and frustration, mouth curled in a scowl at his new failure. Another whimper echoed, a pained one.
Your mind tried to keep itself focused on what might trouble him, and not the cock between his hands.
"Stop. You're..." You gulped as you pried his hands away from himself and he hissed, way too receptive and sensitive to your touch, "You're hurting yourself."
He craned his head enough to watch you as you kneeled besides him.
The sensations he provoked had made his mind a puddle and his whole frame a shivering and sensitive mess, too soon within such a short amount of time.
"H-Help" He pleaded, trying to reach for you.
Never in your life had you gotten such proposal, much less when he took your hand and placed it around his base and a shaky moan escaped his mouth.
Soft, velvety skin trembled under your hesitating fingers. Your heart thumped almost deafening in your ribcage as his hands enveloped yours while you held him.
"Please" He choked and pulled your head against his, his eyes darkening with something you knew all too well but was too busy to acknowledge. His solid and broad chest rising with erratic breaths as his cock twitched in your hands.
And it clicked in your mind. He was trying to see that video, meaning he had been around the whole time but was cautious to not approach since you were away.
But the video had demanded his attention, specially the way the man held and toyed with himself before plowing into the woman. His body was into a sudden need of that same sort of contact, the woman's cries and pleas had made his body react in such way that got him confused and panicky, specially when his groin grew uncomfortably tighter in his loincloth.
Miguel had tried to seek relief for himself, but only had managed to squeeze himself a bit too tight and set ablaze that fire that menaced to consume him whole. And now that you were here, you would teach him how to do it properly. Like the rest of things you've taught him.
He stroked harshly and your skin shuddered when he moaned into the crook of your neck.
"Miguel" You called and he breathed while looking into your eyes, "Breathe."
You inhaled and he followed, then exhaled and he closed his eyes as his mouth parted to let a shaky breath.
Oh god...
Despite the baffling still clinging to your brain, the pedagogic side of you thrived as you taught him how to properly please himself. It was fascinating to you.
"L-Lets do it slowly, okay?"
He grunted and tried to urge you to do it faster, but your free hand caressed his cheek, snapping his attention to you and the sudden touch.
"Slow. You'll hurt yourself."
A trembling hand held you by the nape as his eyes focused on your hand, stroking with gentleness up and down his warmth.
"See? Softly" You mumbled and he tightened his grip on your hand, a quiet beg for you to not let go.
"Video-" He choked and looked at the projected screen, still blank.
You shook your head softly and sat properly beside him, your other hand palmed and massaged both his hardened balls before squeezing gently, earning a delicious growl that made your skin crawl.
"You don't need that, focus on my voice, ok?"
He nodded and placed your forehead against his, panting and groaning softly, completely hypnotized by the way your hands performed your usual magic on him.
"Yes" He breathed when one of your hands circled on his veiny and thick base and the other one toyed with his tip.
His hips jerked as soon as you started to pump him in a slow but firm pace. Thrusting them into your hand, gaining as much friction as possible. Increasing that searing heat within.
"Does it feels good?" You focused on his tip, using his oozing precum as a lube to move your hand a bit faster, and his mouth gaped. His eyes nearly rolled back when you squeezed him in the way his hand had miserably failed.
"Good. Yes. Goo-" He choked when you palmed his balls again, and then wrapped him with both hands. Resuming your strokes in the same tempo you had marked before.
He whimpered your name in such a way none had ever done before, sending a sudden shudder straight to your clit.
The wet and soft sloshes of his skin against yours ignited that primal need engraved in his brain. The hand on your nape tightened on your hair, as if fearing you'd go away and stop teaching and giving him this gift.
The sharpness of his canines grazed on the joint of your neck and head, muffling his groans and obscene, choked whimpers as you kept pumping and stroking with right amount of pressure to make it heavenly. Way more delicious and arousing than any rush of adrenaline he experienced regularly.
Never occurred to him his body could produce such sensations, or someone else could provoke them. He had put his trusting the right place. You were teaching him the way he loved to learn. Practical, with hands on.
Without warning, he pulled you to crash his lips on yours, making his best to emulate the kissing in the video. And it was your turn to moan.
Be it the years spent on your own with nothing but your hands and rare hookups, or the sudden realization of having such a wonderful piece of man yearning for your touch, for your lips for you, made your knees weak and your insides shuddered.
The kiss turned even more urgent as soon as you increased the speed of your pumps, making him a twitching, trembling and panting mess, that mumbled your name over and over. His hand secured you by your waist next to him, refusing to even think to let you go.
You were grateful the projector room was away from the main base, and close to the river, ostracising all noise from the camp.
"I'm-" He whimpered and with a low, skin crawling growl, his jaw tightened as he came.
Sticky and hot spurts of himself scurried abundantly on the side of his cock, rolling to the back of your palm, spilling himself while his hips tensed and his head, like his eyes rolled back.
You had to breath to take in the sight before you. Erotism in it's utmost pureness.
The sweat clung to him, like a thin glistening layer, his chest rose up and down erratically, heaving all the remaining and clinging lust out of his system, some strands stuck on his flushed face, awash with relief. Every muscle rippled at the tempo of his breathings, contracting and releasing with enjoyment.
He pulled your hand towards his face and licked a dribble of himself and then kissed you. His taste was unexpectedly sweet. But his lips made it even sweeter.
When he broke it, his hand caressed your cheek, and delivered more of those initial licks and pecks that had your knees trembling. He panted and rubbed his nose against yours, as if grateful for the first pleasurable experience ever had. All his pent up tension was gone.
However his sudden question threw you off guard.
"You... with Peter too?"
Your head tilted in confusion and a brow quirked. He sighed, and stared deeply into your bewildered eyes as he rephrased what he meant as best as he could.
"This." He gestured, "With Peter."
Have you done this with Peter too?
You had to blink and laugh softly, finally understanding.
"No. Never."
"But, Peter hugs. I saw." He pressed with a moue on his lips.
Oh...
Was he jealous?
"Peter is family to me."
That eased his frown and grunted.
"I was worried. You... and family. Not safe."
"I... know."
You watched him with surprise. He had heard it all.
"I'm so sorry. I... I wanted to protect you but-"
His fingers shushed you, and that's when his fresh wounds on his forearm came into view. Those were definitely bites on his arm, but he seemed unbothered by it.
All those bites and scratches were earned as he fought other creatures that entered a territory where new mothers were in. Jaguars, panthers, even other monkeys.
"Are you ok?"
He nodded and his lips twitched into a sad smile.
"You leave soon?"
"I... Yeah. Nine days." You brought the count in your fingers.
He nodded with a frown, "But you, come back?" His hands gathered your face in his hands and watched you with pleading eyes.
Stay.
"I can't." The idea of leaving him alone again was gut wrenching. Cause you knew you couldn't survive like he did.
Your words earned a hitch of his breath.
"What... what if you come with me?"
"You and me, leave?"
You nodded enthusiastically.
"Hmm! I can teach you all those places you saw, there are so many people out there that would love to know you."
"Me and you, together?"
You nodded with a soft flush on your cheeks as you smeared antiseptic on him. "Yes. You and I, together."
"You and I, come back later?"
The excitement in your eyes died, and he pursed his lips.
"Oh... No. Miguel, if we leave, we... don't come back. Ever."
He seemed confused for a minute but just stood.
"I see."
"Wait, Miguel!"
Without much word and covering up, he left.
"I don't wanna go..."
Leaving you in the projector room alone, heart clenching in a turmoil. You didn't want to leave him. But you had to.
------
Taglist:
@yhrlocalcyprus @nommingonfood @literatiastray @call-me-nyxx @gennirose @loonalockley @danubliat @marit332 @beabfleab @l3lazeit @lililapuce @prollyanvycchi @huehuehuehuehehe @nanamiscunt @ncj2837ndjcj @leviswifey-act62 @migueloharacumslut @migshusben @freehentai @animequeen4
@del-ightfulling @angel-of-the-moons @moonzuzuu @scaleniusrm @avatarl0v3r2 @rabiebarbie @that-sounds-stupid @reader-1290 @yyviesarts @m-miggy @loonalockley
#t writes✨#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#tarzan! miguel#tarzan! AU#miguel#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara x you
273 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Cat Named Eddie — part two
part one part two part three
--
Eddie half-expected it to blow over.
It was cruel, sure, but it wasn't like worse hadn't been said before. He hadn't forgotten the words they used to throw at each other in school, or even the slight off-center teasing the entire group participated in.
Steve had crossed a line first, he was just readjusting the center. That was all.
Except it hadn't blown over, and now things were weird. Eddie hadn't realized how often he saw Steve until that presence disappeared entirely. When Steve dropped off the kids for D&D, he stayed firmly in the car, or sometimes even sent Nancy or Jonathan to do it instead. There weren't anymore night when Steve would come over with a pack of beer and and some cigarettes, whispering for him to not tell Henderson he was smoking again like it was some tightly held secret. Steve still came to movie nights in the Wheeler basement—if only because the others would notice if he wasn't there—but instead of sitting next to each other whispering about the cool new effects or how they would've better handled a horror situation, they sat on opposite sides of the basement.
It sucked, frankly.
"What the hell did you do to Steve?" Dustin came charging at the van the second he pulled back up to the trailer. How long had the kid been waiting there for him?
Eddie groaned, looking over at Dustin as dramatically as he could manage. "Isn't he supposed to be working on your language?"
"Eddie!"
"I didn't do anything to Harrington," Eddie told him, though the expression on Dustin's face showed just how unconvinced he was. "He started it."
He winced at the way it sounded, already anticipating the unimpressed look Dustin was giving him. "Really, Eddie? He started it? What are you, four?"
"Hey! This is adult stuff, you'll understand when you're older."
"Doesn't sound like it. Sounds more like you're in e—"
"Henderson, nothing happened between Steve and I. I dunno what he said to make you think that but we'll be fine."
"He's moping, Eddie," Dustin practically whined. "It hasn't been this bad since Nancy. Can't you just apologize for whatever he thinks you did so you can kiss and make up?"
"Who says I did anything?"
"I think you both did something stupid," Dustin corrected, crossing his arms over his chest. It was alarming how quickly he was beginning to mimic Steve's mannerisms. "Just fix it."
And sure, maybe the kid had a point. He was one of the smartest people Eddie had ever met, so of course he did. That didn't make it any easier to consider how to do such a thing. It was easy to say 'fix it', but a whole lot harder to figure out what to fix in the first place.
So it was another week until anything else happened. Another week of no Steve, another week of not being able to sleep and realizing he'd been relying on phone calls to the other man to lull him back to sleep when he had a nightmare. Even when it was Steve who called, it always seemed like Eddie could get back to sleep much better than before.
Three weeks after the incident, Eddie stepped foot back inside Family Video.
"Get out," Robin immediately spoke from the center counter, not looking up from the tapes she was organizing to place back on the shelves.
"Missed you too, Buckley," Eddie tried to tease, but the look Robin gave him was harsh, cold in a way he wasn't sure the band nerd had ever been capable of before. "Okay, I get it, I hurt Harrington's feelings."
Robin glanced over at a door on the back wall, maybe the break room, before she looked back at him. "You didn't just hurt his feelings, asshole."
"He was—" Eddie started, voice raising a higher pitch before he told himself to relax. Instead, he leaned over the counter to close their proximity. "What if Harrington hasn't really changed as much as you think he has?"
Robin blinked, wordlessly watching him for a few seconds. Then she scoffed, rolled her eyes, then refocused on the tapes scattered around her. "I think you're the one who's stuck in high school, Eddie."
"What's that s'posed to mean?"
"You're so focused on him being a jock that you're totally missing the obvious. I mean come on, I thought Harrington was the biggest dingus I'd ever be friends with but you might've beaten him."
"I hate to ask this..." Eddie started, lifting his eyes to look to the ceiling as though the answer might be plastered there. "But what's the obvious?"
Robin looked up at him, really looked at him, then shook her head. "I cannot wait until you two figure this one out."
--
Eddie had no idea what the fuck Robin meant by that, and it certainly didn't get any clearer as the days passed.
It was impossible not to linger on it, though. He laid in bed unable to sleep, just thinking about what the hell she was trying to tell him. He ended up trying to replay the last day he'd spoken to Steve, tried to figure out where it all went so wrong, how all of this ended up pinned on him when Steve was the one who—
He walked into Family Video that day. Robin and Steve were talking. He eavesdropped. Okay, not the best start.
Steve said Eddie had sat on his lap. And bit him. And slept with him.
No, he said they slept in the same bed.
It still didn't make sense. All of it still sounded like the setup to a bad joke, like the second Eddie acknowledged it Steve would jump out with the 'I gotcha'. None of it made sense, because of there was no 'gotcha' then what was the point of saying all of that to Robin? To the kids? Why make everyone think they were closer than they were? Why bring up all of these things right as Eddie figured out he kind of liked the idea of laying in bed with Steve Harrington?
Eddie wanted to scream.
Instead, he got out of bed, tossed on a jacket, and started walking. It was just beginning to get colder, enough that he needed to curl his shoulders inward the more he walked. There was no destination in mind, though he ended up somewhere anyway.
He ended up by the Harrington house, of course.
It would've been easier to turn around and walk away, pretend he had never showed up there. But Eddie was tired of running, and maybe this would at least prove something to the both of them (what that was, he still wasn't sure). At the very least, maybe the strange ache in his chest that hadn't gone away since he heard Steve's words weeks ago would ease enough that he could breathe freely again. So he knocked.
Steve looked like he wanted to close the door in Eddie's face. Maybe they both deserved it, to not be friends and not figure out this whole situation and to just sit in this hurt forever until all of their friends got tired of their bullshit. Except Eddie was tired of deserved too, having heard plenty of what he 'deserved' after Chrissy was killed.
"We need to talk," Eddie spoke up, and Steve sighed and nodded, though didn't move from the doorway.
"It's fine, man, there's nothing to talk about," Steve told him. "We're good, I'm fine."
"Well as long as Harrington is fine," Eddie returned quickly, wincing immediately after. "I'm not. Nothing about this is fine."
Steve sighed and leaned his hip against the doorframe. And shit, why did he get to look so annoyed that this conversation was happening? Eddie deserved an apology too, didn't he? Didn't he?
"Yeah, okay this was a mistake," Eddie hissed, taking a step backward and shaking his head.
"What now?" Steve snapped, nothing but pure annoyance and frustration in his voice. It reminded him of all the times people told him to shut up, to get over it. Not everyone is gonna like you, not everyone wants to be your friend. But damn did he want to be more with Steve.
"You don't even get it, do you?" Eddie returned, feeling that same uncontrollable anger bubble up in him. How dare Steve be annoyed now, when he'd come to try to figure things out? "You think you can make fun of whatever freak dares to like you? Well guess what, Harrington, it's not fucking funny, and when you fuck up most people want an apology."
"What are you talking about?" Steve threw his hands in the air, one continuing up to tug and pull at his hair. "You've been acting so c—"
"Crazy? That's it, right? I'm crazy Eddie Munson, so desperate for you I'll just bite you or something?"
"What are you—"
"I heard you," Eddie confessed. "At Family Video, I heard you making fun of me. Telling Robin all about how the gay guy was sitting in your lap and sleeping in your bed. That's not cool you know, lies like that get people hurt."
"I—" Steve's hazel eyes widened in realization. He shook his head, disbelieving as he watched Eddie. And fuck, did that look on Steve's face irritate the hell out of him. "You're kidding me."
"Here's a tip, don't talk gossip in public, big boy."
"So you heard me talking, you were confused, and instead of just asking like a normal person, you assumed I was a terrible human being? I have that right?" Well it sounded bad when Steve put it that way.
Eddie shrugged, to which Steve scoffed, shoulders deflating.
"Right, it's not that far off to assume I'd do that, huh?" Steve responded. He looked sad, those hazel eyes looking as doe-like as ever. The ache in Eddie's chest went away, but it was replaced by something sharper, the distinct feeling that something had gone horribly wrong here. "Look, I...I don't know why I named him that. I just...he looked a little rough at first, and then when I gave him a safe place to land he had this huge personality. He's goofy, and full of energy, and so loving I just..." Steve shrugged, bending down to pick up something from behind the door.
It was a fucking cat. The little guy was all black and a little too thin, though looked to be on the up and up. He was curled up comfortably in Steve's arms, where even now one large hand idly scratched behind one ear.
"You have a cat. You got a cat and you named it Eddie," Eddie said dully, monotone with the shock of the whole thing. Dread filled his stomach, pitting something dark and heavy there. "You named a cat after me."
"My mistake," Steve answered, grabbing onto the edge of the door with his free hand. "Forgive me, I'm just a dumb jock, you know."
"Wait, Steve—" Eddie rushed to grab onto the door but it had already closed tightly, leaving him outside with no way to fix the situation.
He'd fucked up, big time, but at least now he knew what Robin meant. He knew, and now he wouldn't stop until he fixed things. He would, because Steve named a cat after him.
--
Just one more part. It was really meant to be just this part but it was getting a little long, my apologies! And don't worry, there'll be fluff and some eddie the cat joy in there too.
Tagging whoever asked on the last reply, sorry if I missed anyone or tagged someone accidentally! It's totally not necessary, but a small reminder that I really appreciate feedback or if you enjoyed it, reblogs💜
@oxidantdreamboat @moonshadows-13 @ohlook-afrog @estrellami-1 @sjullay @doubleb11 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @nelotegreitic @liketheocean @background-noise-headache @wowimwhatibingewatch @obsessive-anddepressive @colorful565 @krazyperson @nonsense-of-dimitri @whimsicalwitchm @zerokrox-blog @electrick-marionnett @the-redthread @juststeddiebrainrot @dollalicia @vi-an-te @lioniheart @unclewaynemunson @stevesbipanic @ajamlessbaby @qomrades @ivydragon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @apricottree @gleek4twd @messrs-weasley @makewavesandwar @renaissan-vvitch @artiststarme @suikatto @proudbaconatornyoom @ilikechocolatemilkh @0o-queendean-o0 @dangdirtydemons @v3lnys @mybradforddream
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#misunderstandings#stranger things#steddie angst#steddie headcanon#steddie ficlet#jay writes in theory
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
instead of asking what parts of wind you’ll be getting rid of, i’ll instead ask what parts you’re keeping. the list is shorter then haha
FROSTPAW AND WHISTLEPAW.
Best part of Wind is the bond between these two, in fact, the entire plot about WindClan felt like it dropped out of the alternate universe where the books are good. The sudden dream of catastrophe, the way StarClan gave Frostpaw this sign on purpose to make them know she's legitimate, Whistlepaw injuring herself to try and save her little sister... Even the little details, like Nightcloud and Hootwhisker trying to drag the tree by the trunk, were neat to see.
I Dont Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done BUT I do know that I'm going to elevate and expand what's going on with Frost and Whistle. They're fantastic.
Another small thing I'm actually planning on keeping is this exchange between Squilf and Jayfeather, which you'll probably find surprising since I'm so open about how much I dislike the way they've made Squilfstar less proactive;
In a better book, I think this could have been a GREAT moment.
What I dislike about this exchange is that Squilf is able to rebuke it, because the writers DO feel that Bramblestar was a good leader. They're trying to show that Squilfstar is going to act more "mature" (read: boring) with her role now, probably to make a point about how Bramblestar wasn't being "indecisive" for the 10 years we were stuck with him but "responsible." Basically, she gets the power and finds out it isn't so easy-- I'll even bet at some point in the next arc or two she'll become frustrated by someone acting the way she used to.
I've seen some people praising this, and like, it's not illegal to have bad taste. But I think this is an AWFUL thing to do with a character who could have finally caused interesting things to happen, on top of just feeling like contempt of criticism on behalf of the writers.
"Ohhhh they thought she would be more decisive than our beloved baby boy, WELL, WE'LL SHOW THEM. You will sit through 10 paragraphs of debate no matter WHO is in charge!!!"
But like I said....... in a better book, this could have been great. If this was a wake-up call for her.
Suddenly experiencing the full weight of responsibility upon herself, she stops making bold decisions. The complicated political situation in front of her, individual opinions of her Clan around her, and the wounded glares of the furious Brambleclaw below her are all acting like briar vines, pulling her down.
Even StarClan itself seems to have placed a weight on her, cats who she's followed faithfully and been punished by.
So Jayfeather, with all of the changes he has in BB, brawling with angels, speaking defiance to the stars, and pulling spirits down from the heavens, is the perfect cat to be honest with her.
I'm still trying to find a good way to describe the electricity between them in this moment. BB!Jayfeather once reached up his paw through the veil between life and death to grab her ankle and fetch her from her own trial, knowing that she wanted to keep living. He's part of whatever motion she took to remove Bramblestar from power. Her son, her cleric, her ally. How do I put these emotions into words?
"Did you come this far just to become someone else?"
Just... what a moment it could be. For this to be the second that Squilfstar realizes in spite of everything, Bramblestar's thorns still jab at her. That she has to move forward, DAMN the uncertainty, by being herself.
#bone babble#asc spoilers#But a LOT of this book is up in the air for BB#Depending on how big of an overhaul this becomes#I don't have SOLID plans yet to keep it loose#But I'm planning some pretty big changes
131 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sbmount2
Untitled
everybodyplaysthefool
She said fuck you I'm from England.
da-porto
Untitled
corpse-sykkuno
Alys
69vnbiztop1
69VN -SẢNH CÁ CƯỢC GIẢI TRÍ UY TÍN HÀNG ĐẦU CHÂU