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toournextadventure · 1 year

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our little secret

Summary: You're the preacher's daughter with the perfect boyfriend. Lorraine is a rancher's daughter with a less than perfect boyfriend. You were both the best of friends. If only anyone knew what went on behind closed doors.

Word Count: 7.4k Warnings: 18+ smut (fingering, oral), swearing, religious talk (talk of sin, seminary, Christian/Baptist views), religious trauma, mentions of homophobia, angst Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader Taglist: @aahdiieb (our little secret i) (our little secret ii) (our little secret iii) (our little secret iv)

There was something relaxing about spending a day outdoors on someone else's farm. Well, you had a farm; they had a ranch. It was quite the different beast to take care of, but you were more than happy to assist in whatever they needed you for, and they were always more than happy to ask for your assistance.

A benefit of being the preacher's daughter, you supposed.

It wasn't the first time you had found yourself crawling under Mr. Day's truck, and it wouldn't be the last. Piece 'a shit is broke, he grumbled before immediately following it up with don't tell your daddy I swore. You had just laughed at him and promised your lips were sealed.

But now that you found yourself tearing it apart, you had to agree with him. His truck was a certified piece of shit.

You slid out from under the truck and sat up with a sigh, your arms resting on your bent knees. It was going to take far more than one day's worth of work to get it fixed. That was mighty fine with you, though, you liked the Day family. They came to church dutifully and your parents almost always had them over afterwards for lunch. Just a nice, genuine Texas family. That was why you liked them.

Certainly not because of Lorraine.

"She's broke, huh?" Mr. Day asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. You glanced up and saw him leaning against the door frame of the barn.

"She ain't broke," you said with a shake of your head. "She just needs some love." You gave him a teasing smile. "Which you ain't givin' her."

"S'pose not," he huffed.

"Hope you been givin' your family more love than your truck," you continued as you pushed yourself up to your feet. Oil covered hands tried to brush stray pieces of straw off your jeans and left black stains in its place. "Ain't nothin' more important than family."

"Well now you sound just like your daddy," Mr. Day chuckled. You turned your head so he couldn't see the grimace his words caused.

"Sometimes he's right," you managed to chuckle back. If he picked up on the double edge of your words, he didn't acknowledge it. It was better that way.

"Well, he can be right again," Mr. Day said as he stretched his hand out in your direction. "Come on in, now, Mrs. Day made lunch."

You walked forward, suddenly focused on trying to wipe the oil off your hands. Mr. Day's hand rested lightly on your lower back, guiding you back to the house while you were now otherwise distracted. His other hand reached out to hold your forearm, helping you not trip up the stairs. By the time he opened the front porch door for you, you had managed to get absolutely no oil off your hands.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Day," you said with a smile and a little wave.

"Better wash those hands off 'fore you touch anything in this kitchen," she said with a pointed look that then directed you to the kitchen sink.

"Yes ma'am," you said with a sag in your shoulders. It made you feel like a child getting scolded for playing in the mud.

Only once she had declared your hands "good enough" did she have you sit down at the table for lunch. It was the perfect lunch, in your opinion; sandwiches, chips, and an ice cold coke. Mrs. Day really knew how to put the charm on.

"How are your brothers holdin’ up?" She asked once everyone had started eating.

"They're…" you hesitated. Perfect Christian family, your father's voice echoed in your head. "They're great," you finally said with a polite smile. "Just goin’ ta classes.”

“And that fella of yours?” Mr. Day asks.

You almost laughed. Instead you took a bite of your sandwich and took the time to chew before answering.

“Beau is fine,” you said with a small smile to yourself. “He should be back from the rodeo tomorrow mornin’.”

“How’d he do?” Mr. Day asked around his own mouthful of food. “Calf ropin’, wasn’t it?”

“Team ropin’,” you said with a nod. “Think he said him and his partner got third?”

“Well that ain’t half bad,” he mumbled. “Lorraine and RJ are s’pose to get back from that film thing tomorrow, too.”

The mention of Lorraine got your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to rise up out of your throat. Everything about her got your body reacting in ways you couldn’t quite describe. The mere mention of her name got your palms sweaty, your thoughts foggy, and your mouth dry.

But then the mention of RJ made you feel sick to your stomach, like when you drank warm milk after it had been sitting on the counter all morning. The thought of him touching Lorraine, or kissing her, or even talking to her made you irrationally angry. It wasn’t something the good lord would want from you.

Too bad you didn’t really care.

“The four of you should go down to the lake tomorrow,” Mr. Day mused aloud. “Give you all a day or two to relax before gettin’ back down to business.”

“Only if y’all behave,” Mrs. Day scolded. She didn’t wait for either of you to finish your lunch before taking the plates to the sink. You quickly got up to help.

It was the Southern thing to do.

“Go on home, sugar,” Mr. Day said when you finished drying the plates.

“I need to finish your truck,” you said as you leaned your hip against the counter. “She’ll never get fixed if you keep sendin’ me home after feedin’ me.”

“I think she can last a little longer,” he said with a light chuckle. “Go home. I’ll tell ‘Raine y’all can meet up around 2.”

“When the sun’s shinin’ down?” You complained.

“It’s good for you. You’ve been locked in that chapel for so long you’re gettin’ mighty ghostly-”

“-John,” Mrs. Day interrupted. You had to turn away from her so she couldn’t see you laughing. “That’s blasphemy.”

“Preacher’s daughter is here, she’ll forgive my transgressions,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Won’t you?”

“In a heartbeat,” you replied.

“You’re both blasphemers,” Mrs. Day huffed before walking away.

You and Mr. Day tried to stifle your laughter to avoid getting in trouble again, but you couldn’t help it. Only when Mrs. Day beat you both with the hand towel did you both stop, shouting your “sorrys” as you ran outside. You called out your goodbyes and hopped into your daddy’s truck before going back home.

“You’ve gotta be quiet,” you mumbled against Lorraine’s lips. Her fingers scratched against the back of your neck in response before pulling you back to her.

You let her lead, pulling you with her until her back hit the wall with a *thud*. You tried to tell her to be quiet again but she didn’t let you pull away. Her arms tightened around your neck. Your own hands slid under the hem of her shirt, resting on her waist. She shivered, giving you all the approval you needed to trail your fingers up her sides, stopping right below her breasts.

"Please," she whimpered against your lips.

Oh, how that gave you such unholy thoughts.

You didn't bother removing her bra; there was too much risk involved. But you had no shame in pushing it up just enough for your hands to cup her breasts. The smallest moan fell from her lips and you had barely brushed your thumbs against her nipples.

"Quiet, 'Raine," you whispered.

But before she could answer, you softly squeezed one of her nipples between your fingers. She moaned into your mouth that time, and you couldn't help your little chuckle before doing it again. Her back arched, pushing the rest of her closer to you. All you needed to do was put your knee-

-you shoved Lorraine into the coats when you heard the door click and open. You spun around just in time to see Jimmy looking in, quickly meeting your eyes.

"I'm goin' to see Liz," he said. "If Pap asks, I'm out studyin' with Blaine."

"You better not get her pregnant, Jim,” you said quickly, almost forgetting why you were in the chapel closet in the first place. “I can’t protect you from daddy forever.”

“I ain’t gettin’ her pregnant, god,” he huffed. “You know too much.”

“It’s on account ‘a I’m your big sister,” you said with a pointed finger, “and if you get her pregnant before you marry her, I’m gonna tan your hide.”

“You got me shakin’ in my boots,” Jimmy taunted with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll see you later.” He turned to walk out but leaned in through the doorway once again. “Bye Lorraine.”

You locked eyes with Jimmy and froze. There was a small smirk on his lips that you wanted to smack off. But then you heard rustling behind you, and his smile grew when you felt Lorraine’s hands on your waist as she leaned out from behind you.

“Bye, Jimmy,” she said sheepishly.

“Not a word, Jim,” you said with a slight shake of your head.

“You scratch my back, I scratch yours,” he said with a smile. “I’ll tell Liz y’all said hi.”

Both you and Lorraine mumbled goodbyes as Jimmy finally shut the door and left. You let out a shaky sigh and turned around to look at Lorraine. By all accounts she looked embarrassed with her flushed cheeks and guilty smile. But the flush could still be from the fact that she was turned on.

You would be in the same boat.

“I told you to hush,” you mumbled.

“Then keep me quiet,” Lorraine said before she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you in for another kiss that had your stomach twisting into knots.

Oh this girl would be the death of you.

You were still remembering that day at the chapel while you watched Beau finish clearing out the trailer. It was a tough job, watching your fake boyfriend clear out the trailer with his fake friend. The way they laughed and couldn’t keep their eyes off each other was almost embarrassing. They were disgusting, truly. They needed to learn the definition of discretion.

“Howdy, beautiful,” Beau said with a smile when he finally approached you after cleaning back up.

“Afternoon, handsome,” you teased back.

When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he gave you a kiss on the cheek. It was simple, much more conservative than most couples. But it was a line you both had settled on. After all, it wasn’t like either of you were interested in each other. You both had… other fascinations.

“Bye, Huck,” you called out to Hucksley when you started climbing into your daddy’s truck. “I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

“Have fun, you two!” He shouted back with a big ‘ole grin and a wave.

“He likes you,” Beau said when he started driving over to the Day ranch. At the rate you were going, you would both get there just before 2. And then you could finally see Lorraine again.

“Y’all able to get some alone time this trip?” You asked. You didn’t bother looking at him, instead opting to look out the window.

“Little bit,” he said. “You get to see Lorraine yet?”

“No,” you sighed. “She went off with RJ. Again.”

“You know he is her beau,” he said with far too much gumption. “It’s almost expected she go with him.”

“That don’t mean I have to like it,” you said quietly.

“Now you know how Huck feels when I'm with you,” he said. “It ain’t easy, but it’s what we gotta do.”

You didn’t bother answering him. You knew he was right, he was always right. Hell would freeze over the day your daddy found out Beau was nothing more than a front so everyone thought you were both having normal relations. If anyone found out about your feelings for Lorraine, or his and Huck’s relationship, your lives would be over.

But that didn’t make it any easier.

What did make it better was seeing Lorraine standing on the porch with Mr. Day. She was staying out of the sun but that didn’t hide the brilliance of her smile. The scarred side of her face was turned away from the road - a habit she had picked up recently - but you didn’t care. She was home, and oh so close. It made your palms sweaty.

You didn’t wait for Beau to park the car before throwing the door open and jumping out. The ground was still rushing underneath you and you stumbled, but quickly regained your footing. All you wanted to do was run up the porch and hug her, letting her know just how much you had missed her over the past two weeks.

But your feet slowed to little more than a walk when RJ came out of the house with a bag in hand. Right. He was there too. Your smile fell into little more than a grin as you forced yourself forward and up the porch. Lorraine turned and gave you those soft, pitiful eyes that made your knees weak.

And the moment was ruined when RJ wrapped an arm over her shoulder.

“Thought you’d never make it,” RJ said with an irritating grin that had you grinding your teeth.

“My fault,” Beau answered as he finally stood behind you. He dutifully put his hand on the small of your back, just like any good boyfriend should. He always did play the part exceptionally well. “Huck and I took a bit to unload the trailer.”

“Congratulations by the way,” Mr. Day said.

“Thank you, sir,” Beau replied. “Coulda done better, but ain’t half-bad.”

“Would you let me film you some day?” RJ asked. “It’d make a good movie.”

“We’ll see, camera boy,” Beau said with a chuckle.

How he could be so casual around RJ was beyond you. The man caused you to want to do un-Christianly things to him. Whether it was his obnoxious smirk, or his stupid hair, or his dumbass glasses. Every single aspect of him got your blood boiling, and him wanting to film Beau was just the icing on the cake.

“Y’all should skedaddle before it gets too late,” Mr. Day said. “Should be plenty of daylight left to pitch the tents.”

“We can take my daddy’s truck,” you said. Lorraine’s eyes were broken, and butterflies instantly erupted in your stomach. "Plenty of space for everything."

Everyone agreed before grabbing their things, telling Mr. and Mrs. Day goodbye, and loading up the truck. Two tents, food, sleeping bags, and small backpacks with some extra clothes and necessities. It was as if you were all professionals. And you were, if you were being honest.

Well. Everyone except RJ.

"In the cab, pardner," Beau said to RJ once everything was loaded. "We'll let the ladies ride in the bed."

"Yeah, alright," RJ mumbled. He gave Lorraine a quick kiss on the lips before getting in the cab.

It made you sick.

Lorraine was perfectly capable of climbing into the bed of the truck all on her own, you knew that. But you couldn't stop yourself from holding your hand out to help her up. She flashed you that smile that you loved so much and climbed in, sitting on the left side. Her bad side.

You didn't bring it up as you climbed in next, sitting down directly beside her and immediately grabbing her hand. It wasn't like anyone could see, you were both surrounded by gear and the truck was already pulling away. She twisted her hand just enough to interlock her fingers with yours and suddenly things weren't so bad anymore. Things almost felt right.

"How was the shoot?" You asked even though you didn't exactly want to know.

"Rocky," Lorraine said; her first word to you in two weeks. "Nothin' went right so we gave up for the weekend."

"Did you join this time?" You continued.

She didn't answer. Her face was turned away from you and your fingers ached to pull her back. To make her look at you so you could see her eyes, caress her scars, kiss her soft lips. But all she ever did nowadays was turn away from you.

It had started after that very first film they did, when she had gotten shot. All you remembered was Mr. Day calling in the middle of the night to let you know she was in the hospital. Nothing had ever put the fear of God into you quite like that night.

Now she always did her best to sit on your left side so you couldn't see her face. It didn't matter how much you kissed her or tried to comfort her, she always turned away from you. The only time she didn't was when she was coming undone beneath you and had plenty of other things on her mind.

"How's Roy?" She asked instead. It was answer enough; she had done a scene or two for the film.

"Can't eat, can't sleep, hootin' and hollerin' cause he thinks he's still in 'Nam," you said with a shrug. "Daddy says we can pray it out of him."

"I'm sorry." Lorraine squeezed your hand lightly before pulling it into her lap and playing with your fingers.

It was your turn not to answer. You didn't want to talk about your veteran brother, or her smut film, or your preacher daddy. Nothing about Beau or RJ or Huck or anything else. You just wanted to talk about her; anything and everything you could possibly find out.

Not like you, Lorraine, Beau, and Huck had all been friends since you were in diapers and knew each other inside and out. That meant nothing.

Lorraine leaned over and rested her head on your shoulder as the truck continued to bounce down the dirt road to the lake. It was hot and humid and you were sweatin’ like a whore in church. But you still let your own head fall on hers and pulled her closer. You could handle the uncomfortable weather if you had her with you.

“I missed you,” Lorraine said softly before practically cuddling deeper into you.

“Missed you too,” you answered.

There was a desperation to kiss the top of her head, tell her you loved her again. A desperation to pull her into your lap and kiss away the frown that you knew she had on her lips. To show her how much you loved her and give her something to take her mind off of whatever was bothering her.

But the truck pulled to a stop at the lake and she pulled away. It put a lump in your throat when RJ came around and helped her out of the back of the truck. Beau did the same for you, of course, shooting you a sympathetic smile in the process. It didn’t make you feel any better.

“Wanna help me pitch the tents?” He asked you while RJ took Lorraine to the lake, ignoring all the bags in the back.

You nodded and started to grab everything you could. If you “accidentally” left RJ’s bag in the back of the truck, you could be forgiven. Things happened, you know? The Big Man in White would forgive you for any transgressions. Beau started up a conversation for nothing more than to pass time.

It helped.

The sun was just starting to kiss the horizon when RJ and Lorraine came back, a smile on his face and a slight frown on hers. But that frown turned upside down when you admitted “oh I’m sorry, RJ, I must have forgotten your pack.” He grumbled and left to grab it while Lorraine turned around to hide her smile.

It was the little things in life.

“Hey ‘Raine,” Beau called out while RJ was still gone. She turned around to look at him. “Why don’t you and sweetness over there go get some firewood?” He gestured his head to where you were finishing putting the cooler down on the ground.

Oh that sneaky bastard.

She nodded once and waited for you to join her before walking away. You both knew where the firewood was, you had grown up around this lake. It just gave you a nice opportunity to be close to her; you thanked god for Beau every day of your life.

“Beau’s not very sneaky,” Lorraine said once you were both out of earshot of the boys.

“No he ain’t,” you laughed, “but I love him anyway.”

“RJ doesn’t like him,” she continued. “Thinks he’s fake.”

“Bold words,” you grumbled. You didn’t like talking about RJ; he always seemed to be the topic of conversation during the few moments you got alone with Lorraine.

It seemed Lorraine picked up on it because she reached over and grabbed your hand, slotting her fingers between yours and stepping closer. Her skin was just as sweaty as yours thanks to that Texas sun, and your hands were sliding against each other and were all clammy. And it was perfect.

“How’s seminary?” Lorraine asked. You didn’t necessarily like that question either, but you could at least talk about it.

And you did. You both started talking, going over what all had been happening since Lorraine had started traveling with RJ more often. How you and Jimmy were primed and ready to go to seminary, just needed to find out which one. How Lorraine was really starting to enjoy filming, and even sometimes being in the films. You teased her about the promiscuity, which she promptly shoved you for.

“Better watch out, ‘Raine,” you continued, “the flames of Hell might devour you for your sin of the flesh.”

“Oh shut up,” she huffed, but there was a smile on her face. “I think you commit the same sin.”

“I’m not at fault,” you said. You stopped abruptly and Lorraine was yanked back by your hand. With only a little bit of finesse, you pulled her into you until she had to look up at you. “I fell victim to a temptress.”

“Is that what I am?” She asked. “Your temptress?”

You looked down at her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She went to turn away, to hide the scars covering the entire left side of her face. But you cupped her cheek instead, keeping her still and looking at you. It broke your heart to see her desire to hide away. Did no one remind her how beautiful she was?

“No,” you said softly, eyes trailing over every scar and freckle on her face. “You’re my whole world.”

You didn’t have to make the first move; Lorraine was more than willing to stand on her toes and kiss you. Just a peck, always just a peck at first, almost as if daring the other one to pull away. But it always led to the same thing. You bent down and cupped both of her cheeks, pulling her into another kiss that had butterflies crawling over every inch of your insides.

The moment her hands gripped your shirt collar, you knew you were done for. That needy, whiny grab that was so full of want and desperation, pulling you closer until you threatened to topple over. It gave you that little push to go a bit further, gently biting her bottom lip to draw out the tiniest moan from her.

You thanked God for whoever had invented the little snap buttons on your shirt. Lorraine's slender fingers could pop them open instantly, and you shivered from both the sudden brush of air and her fingers on your chest. Her skin was hot on yours, scalding like hellfire, and it felt heavenly.

A coyote howled in the distance and you quickly straightened, pulling Lorraine closer to keep her safe. It was getting far darker than you had expected and you knew better than to get caught in the open by a pack. You knew she could hear your heart racing in your chest, and she placed a comforting hand on your now-bare stomach.

"We should get back," you said quietly; you certainly didn't want to alert any coyotes to your location.

"We didn't get firewood," Lorraine said just as quietly. Her breath tickled against your chest.

"Beau and I got some while you were gettin' indecent with RJ," you said before immediately stiffening up.

You weren't supposed to admit that.

"And what, pray tell, are we doin'?" Lorraine asked in what you, Beau, and Huck had dubbed her Scolding Mother voice.

"Sinnin'," you said without hesitation. You were already in trouble, no use trying to get out of it.

"Y'all are bastards," she said with a huff and an elbow to your stomach. You coughed and doubled over, giving her the perfect opportunity to start walking back to camp without you.

"Be careful," you whisper-shouted as you ran after her, your fingers trying desperately to button your shirt back up. “Lorraine!”

You were in a state of complete disarray when you both got back to camp. RJ and Beau were already building the fire; well, Beau was forcing RJ to try and do it. He was failing miserably and you wanted nothing more than to laugh, but the look Lorraine gave you shut you up.

“Need some help, RJ?” You asked when he failed for the fifth time to get the fire started.

“I’ll let you try,” he said with a shake of his head and a shrug. The three of you knew it was his way of saying I can’t do it.

You knelt down and got the fire started in one go. You had to stay on the ground for a few minutes too long so you could stop yourself from looking so smug about it. By the time you stood up, convinced the fire would stay steady, Beau and Lorraine were finishing up preparing for dinner and RJ was messing around with his camera.

“You always have that with you?” You asked him, gesturing your head to the device in his hands.

“Never know when you’ll stumble across the perfect shot,” he said with a smile.

Laughter had you turning your head to see Beau and Lorraine with large smiles on their faces. She looked at peace, like she was actually happy to be there with him. There was no intent to hide herself, or keep quiet, or act a certain way. She was just laughing and pushing him around and talking ceaselessly.

It was the perfect shot, and RJ was missing it.

“Quit it,” you told Beau, who was waving a knife around all willy nilly. “You two go sit down before you hurt somebody.”

“Yes mother,” Beau said with a roll of his eyes. Lorraine said nothing but smiled and walked away to sit beside RJ.

Everyone kind of did their own thing after that; you cooked the stew for dinner, Beau got his guitar out and started picking a few tunes, and Lorraine and RJ were sitting together, whispering about something. Every now and then she would look up and meet your eyes for a moment before focusing on RJ once again.

Beau noticed, as he always did, and decided to make light of the situation. He started strumming a tune, singing horribly off key and inviting you to join. You shook your head and protested and did your best to ignore him, but how could you when he was giving you that smile? It was no wonder he had managed to pull Huck in.

You both continued to sing as terribly as possible, laughing when the coyotes started howling in harmony. He cracked open a lukewarm beer and handed it to you before grabbing one for everyone else and then himself. It was disgusting, but you couldn’t complain too much because it was about the camaraderie, not the taste. About knowing you were all just out having fun, enjoying the reprieve from the real world.

For a moment you could almost believe you were out there with Lorraine, free from the prying, judgmental eyes of the world. When you handed her a bowl of stew and her fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver down your spine and a heat in your belly. When she smiled at you while RJ and Beau were talking, as if you were the one she was with.

But then RJ would kiss her on the cheek, or wrap his arm around her, and you felt sick to your stomach. The world certainly knew how to play its sick jokes. You knew what your daddy would have to say about it. It's a temptation from the Devil himself to lust after another woman. Guilt started gnawing at your heart, piece by piece until it was beating wildly and you feared you would pass out.

“We should get some sleep,” Beau proclaimed once talk had died down. Maybe he had noticed you starting to lose every ounce of sanity you had left. You hoped he didn’t. “Plenty more fun to be had tomorrow.”

Everyone mumbled their agreements - you just stared off into the fire - before standing up and stretching. Sitting on the hard ground was always tough on the joints no matter how young you were. Once everyone started getting ready, you cleaned up and put out the fire, your mind still dwelling on the guilt your daddy continued to instill in you even from afar.

“RJ, you’re in the tent with me,” Beau said quickly. “I ain’t invokin’ the wrath of a man of god.”

He didn’t look happy about that proclamation at all, but what could he do? He had grown up a Southern man too, he knew how seriously people took such a thing. So he nodded once, grumbling an agreement before climbing into the tent with Beau hot on his heels. Beau gave you one look before zipping up the tent and leaving you alone with Lorraine.

Alone with Lorraine.

Oh god.

You took far too long gathering your things before heading to the tent. Double and triple checking that the fire was out, looking out for coyotes, checking for rattlers, making sure the food was properly put away. Only when you could no longer find anything to do did you finally venture into the tent where Lorraine was already waiting.

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw Lorraine sitting in the tent, lantern on and book in hand. She had her chin resting in one small hand as the other turned the page. Her hair fell over her face, creating a sheer curtain that you could barely see through. The tanned skin of her shoulder was bare to the world as her too-large sleep gown hung off her arm.

Just the sight of her was enough to make you want to praise the heavens, singing her gospel until God felled you from heaven himself. You would give up the very promise of heaven if it meant you could go to bed seeing her like that every night. The deepest pits of hell could not persuade you from loving her with every beat of your heart and every breath that she pulled from your lungs.

"You're starin'," Lorraine mumbled in her sleepy voice, the one you would die for.

"You're plum wore out," you said as you finally managed to get your body moving again. You zipped the tent up behind you and moved to get on the small pallet beside her.

"Long trip home," she said with a sigh. Slender fingers placed the bookmark in its spot before placing the book beside the lamp and blowing it out.

You laid down in silence, staying as still as possible so as to allow her to go where she pleased. You're acting like you've never slept with her before, your mind taunted you. And it was right, but there was a guilt that was still gnawing at your heart, chomping at the bit to devour you, body and soul.

"You ain't gonna face me?" Lorraine asked, her mouth so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," you whispered as you turned on your side and ended up face-to-face with her.

"You're thinkin' real hard tonight," she said. You couldn't really see her in the dark, but you heard shuffling before you felt her hand resting on your cheek.

It felt like the touch of god himself.

"I'm alright," you said. Part of you hoped she would believe you.

Part of you hoped she wouldn't.

"It's just you and me tonight," she said. Her fingers scratched gently against your skin, just enough to keep you grounded.

Tonight, your mind emphasized. It was just you and her tonight. When the sun came up she would go back to RJ, and you would go back to Beau, and no one would think twice. It would be as if nothing had ever happened, as if she hadn't made you want to prostrate yourself at her altar.

"You and me," you said to yourself. If you said it enough, you could believe it.

"I don't wanna fuck tonight," Lorraine said, making you blink in the dark at her complete 180.

"You… you don't?" You asked. "May- may I ask why?"

"All I ever do is fuck," she said, her lips now brushing lightly against yours. “I want you to remind me what love feels like.”

Oh. Oh, you could do that. It was all you ever wanted to do. There wasn't a single thought in your head when you felt her lips press against yours. No thoughts as you wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her body flush against yours. She was warm and soft; she was yours.

You rolled over onto your back, gently pulling her with you until she was laying on top of you. It always amazed you how small she was, how her weight on you meant nothing as she straddled your stomach. Both of her hands made their way to your neck while yours went under her shirt and to her hips. Her skin was already slick with sweat thanks to the summer heat.

She bit your bottom lip as your hands slid up her sides, caressing every inch of skin they could find. Gentle touches until you reached the sides of her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat when one of your thumbs lightly brushed against her nipple, immediately followed by a shiver down her back.

“Don’t tease,” Lorraine mumbled against your lips.

You hummed your acknowledgment and leaned up into another kiss, but continued to leave the lightest of touches. Brushing a knuckle against her nipple, softly kneading her flesh. Only when she was least expecting it did you do anything more, rolling a nipple between your thumb and forefinger and swallowing her moan.

The simple touch had her rolling her hips against your stomach. Even with her panties on, you could feel her arousal on your stomach. Just the knowledge that you had such an effect on her was enough to convince you that she had too many clothes on.

She whined when you removed your hands from her breasts. A needy, breathy sound that quickly disappeared when you pulled her gown up. Her lips parted from yours just long enough to get the gown over her head before she leaned down, instantly kissing you again.

Your hands rested on her hips, just tracing patterns on her skin as she continued to roll her hips. Her movements were slow, methodical. She was working herself up, not trying to get off just yet.

"Take it off," she mumbled as her hands fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. Well, it was Beau's shirt, but no one cared.

"Yes ma'am," you answered before sitting up.

Lorraine slid into your lap while her hands tugged at your shirt, attempting to assist you. But you could tell she was already too desperate, too distracted to be of any genuine help. As you pulled your shirt off, her own hands quickly replaced it, running over every inch of skin she could reach.

"I missed you," she said breathlessly. Her hands trailed from your neck down to your breasts, giving them the same teasing treatment you had given her.

"I missed you too " you answered just as breathlessly before her lips closed around one of your nipples and drew a moan out of you.

She loved to do that. She loved to interrupt your thoughts with her actions, whether it was a gentle bite here or the scratching of her nails on your back. And she did just that, biting down just hard enough to pull a gasp from you before soothing the sting with her tongue.

You let her continue for a few moments; it was one of her favourite things to do. All the while you massaged her hips, her thighs, could practically feel the heat from her core. She was still working herself up.

"Come here," you said, gently pulling her face back up to yours.

You couldn't see her in the dark but you could imagine the lust-drunk look she was giving you as you laid her down on the pallet. Both of your hands were on either side of her head, caging her in. Your thigh strategically placed itself between her legs and she took no time in rutting against it.

Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you into another kiss. One thing about Lorraine, she loved to be kissed. To taste you, feel your tongue on her lips, your lips on her skin. If you were kissing her then you loved her, and she couldn't have been more right.

"More," she said with another desperate grind against your thigh.

You lowered yourself down to your elbows before shifting your weight. Your body was tilted ever so slightly so as not to crush her while one of your hands finally made its way back down her body. If the sweat was anything to go by, you knew exactly what you would find when you slid your hand in between your thigh and her panties.

The wetness on your thigh and stomach had already told you how worked up she was, but when you actually felt how soaked her panties were, you couldn't help but sigh. She just made it so easy to tease her, to run your fingers over her so lightly that all she could do was whine and squirm.

"Stop teasin'," Lorraine whined, pulling a smile from you.

"Take these off too," you said in reply.

She had never moved so fast in her life, you reckoned. But almost within an instant she had kicked her panties off and laid bare beneath you. You wished the lantern was on so you could see her. See her kiss-swollen lips and her freckled skin, the blush on her cheeks or the almost bashful look in her eyes. You wanted to see her; all of her.

But she clearly felt you were taking too long, because she grabbed your hand and placed it exactly where she wanted it. You dipped your finger into her arousal and up to her clit once. She threw her head back with a moan at the same time as you.

"Jesus, Lorraine," you said as you bent down to kiss her neck. "You're so fuckin' wet and I barely touched you."

You could feel the vibrations of her moan against your lips as you continued to kiss down her body. Your fingers slowly circled her clit, putting the lightest amount of pressure just to keep her worked up. You kissed her collarbone, her chest, left little love bites on her breasts. Her hips rolled with your fingers as you kissed lower, across her stomach and to her hips. Extra kisses for her hips, one love bite on each before being soothed with your tongue.

"Please," Lorraine whimpered just loud enough for you to hear.

How could you say no to that?

The first swipe of your tongue already had her back arching and her fingers tangling themselves in your hair. She tasted like the nectar of heaven, something you could only ever find from her. Any semblance of self control dissipated and you dove back in like you had been parched for a thousand years.

Her hips wriggled below you with every touch on her clit. Flat broad licks always brought out the low moans from her while the quick kitten licks had her whining and her thighs shaking.

"You gotta be quiet, 'Raine," you said when you picked your head up for a moment to try and see her face.

Her fingers removed themselves from your hair before cupping your cheeks and pulling you back up. Part of you was upset you couldn't taste her anymore, but then she pulled you into another kiss. This one deep and slow. She liked your bottom lip and you quickly parted your lips, allowing her to taste herself on your tongue.

"Then keep me quiet," she said before immediately kissing you again.

She was going to be the death of you.

With your mouth now preoccupied, your fingers went back to work. Rubbing slow, wide circles on her clit to make up for the few seconds of lost contact. Lorraine sighed through her nose, the air tickling your cheek. But you were tired of teasing her. It had been too long for you to tease her all night.

You pressed two fingers against her entrance lightly, giving her time to tell you no. One of her hands left your face and grabbed your wrist, pushing you completely into her. You both moaned into each other, her at the feel of your fingers and you at how tight and warm she was.

Sometimes she liked it harder, faster, but not tonight. Tonight you went with slow, deep strokes. Every time you would pull out, you would curl your fingers just enough to hit that sweet spot that had her toes curling. Her hips rolled to meet your hand, pushing your fingers just that extra bit deeper to have her a sweaty, moaning mess below you.

You didn't stop kissing her when you moved your thumb to her clit, adding that extra sensation. Her nails dug into the back of your neck and your wrist, but you didn't care. She would bite your lip every time your fingers thrusted into her deeper than usual. She was coming completely undone.

All it took was one more circle on her clit before she came, clenching around your fingers and moaning into your mouth. You kept thrusting slowly, softly, helping her ride it out until she could gently come back down. You could feel the welts on your neck and wrist, but it didn't hurt. You stayed completely still until you could feel her body start to relax again, only then removing your fingers slowly.

"I love you," she whispered with a husky, exhausted voice. "I love you."

"I love you too, Lorraine," you whispered back before laying down beside her and pulling her until you could curl your body around her.

She interlocked her fingers with yours and pulled your hands tight to her chest. You felt her lips press kisses into each fingertip, the kisses getting slower and slower until you could feel her even breathing. Part of you wanted to laugh; she always fell asleep so quickly.

The other part was screaming. Reminding you that she wasn't yours. That come morning, she would go back with RJ like nothing had ever happened, and you would be alone again. You would never get the girl, and one day he would even take her away from you.

You closed your eyes and pulled her impossibly closer, feeling the warmth from her skin. The Texas heat was unbearable even in the dark, and it was humid and you were both sweaty. But the touch of her skin on yours was worth it. You left lingering kisses to the back of her bare neck as she continued to sleep.

"I love you, Lorraine," you whispered into the dark for no one but god to hear.

At least for now you could pretend she was yours. Just for one night.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader #lorraine day smut

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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If you could indulge me, can I ask for something with The Amazing Digital Circus gang, with an s/o who is seen as an anchor for the others? They are strong willed, happy go lucky, supportive, a mediator and ect. Well, could they stumble upon their s/o just having an episode, just crying in frustration and like punching a wall to calm down and go back to acting like nothing happened?

I have a thing with strong willed characters hiding their weakness for the benefit of others.

TADC cast x emotional anchor!reader !

oh ho ho you silly lil fella, you have literally just described my TADC oc down to a T, i am going to have so much fun writing this because im literally just. going to use my oc as a place holder for the reader, just without describing any lore bits unique to them and their design ngl i think i went insane with this one, tally hall music is doing something to me

CAINE:

if you thought you were good at hiding your human despair just know that caine already knows. the only reason i feel he wouldnt initially come to you in your lesser moments of weakness is that he can acknowledge that youre trying to hide this part of you. does he go comfort you, and risk making you try harder to surpress your feelings; risking you to just blow up one day and have your mental state just totally collapse in one go? would you feel put off at the knowledge that in this world you never really have full privacy? that definitely wouldnt make you feel any better. but when it gets to the point where you're screaming and crying in your room and punching the walls he would step in. drags you away from the walls, and if he has to this man will restrain you if it means making sure you stop swinging. hes seen the downfall of many people within the circus, but seeing it from someone he so deeply cares for hits a different way. he may be an AI, but he can still simulate feeling. its a harrowing sensation as he lets you cling onto him. i think he makes an effort to make in house adventures less overwhelming and intense, too scared to push you over the edge but also too scared to leave you with nothing to do to distract you. i think he would stay with you for the night, too

POMNI:

as selfish as it sounds, pomni cant help but feel.. something in her chest. seeing you, the groups beacon of light falter fills her with some kind of fear and despair that she cant put into words. it reminds her that no one is above helplessness, and that at the end of the day youre just as capable of abstracting as everyone else. i think, when she finally sees your fake demeanor finally slip when you thought you were totally alone, she feels bad. i mean shes your partner, and she didnt pick up on any hints that may have indicated your true state of health. i dont think she would try to force you to speak, as much as i want to say that she would try to push for you to talk about how you feel i think her attempts to reach out to you would fall on deaf ears. i think she would put her hand on your shoulder, making you jump back to the present moment. its an awkward gesture, with the jester herself being a little lost with these new feelings... i think you two would just sit in silence

JAX:

similar to pomni, he feels this intense and unexplainable pang at the sight of the most hopeful and brightest person in the circus crumble. ive already said it but ill say it again, its like being splashed with cold water, with how hard that sinking cold feeling hits him. makes half hearted attempts to cheer you up. its not that he doesnt care, its that hes stuck in the shock of seeing the happiest person he knows flip into... this.. for a split second he thought you were abstracting, that pit his stomach becoming colder for a second before he realizes whats going on. ive said this before as well, but jax is not the best comforter, in fact i think he might be one of the worst out of the main cast. but i think so far for the characters ive written for this post, he makes an effort to try to pull you up out of your hole. at least he lets you cry your feelings out, and he wont make you feel bad for doing so

RAGATHA:

stands there in shock like pomni, before immediately rushing to your side and tugging you away from a coat stand you were kicking and beating. hands on your shoulders she tries to snap you back to the present moment, trying to tell you that shes here. any feelings of the helplessness that she shares with the previous two characters is shoved down. this isnt about her, its about you. runs her fingers through your hair, if your digital body has any, and just. rocks you. when you finally calm down enough to be able to form clear words, she reassures you once more that shes here for you. the two of you stay in that position, holding onto one another for the entire night. i think it should be said, but for most of these theyre going to try to keep a closer eye on you and make it a point to ask you how youre feeling. ragatha especially.

KINGER:

it reminds him of queenie. the sight brings back so so so many terrible memories. for a second he doesnt even register that hes standing in the present, standing in your doorway. stuck and frozen for a solid minute before you finally notice him, and you hold each others gaze. finally, you crumble. what was the point of hiding your mounting anguish now that it was discovered by the one you care for most? at the sight of your crumpled form i think kinger would snap back, and rush to your side. he's pause, afraid that you would abstract like the queen, before forcing himself to push through that fear in the back of his mind. a moment where he is not fumbling with himself or shaking; be it because he wants to be there for you or perhaps he still holds some guilt aimed towards himself for not being able to save his old queen, he refuses to leave your side even if you tell him to leave. theres this caution in his actions, mixed with this sort of determination to make sure you're okay. like ragatha, he would make it a point to make sure you're okay long after this incident

ZOOBLE:

zooble would probably be the only one who doesnt make their presence known to you while you're in that state. not because they wont care about you, in fact they care about you a lot. but theyre so unsure of what to do, that they give to you what they would have wanted for themselves, if they were in your shoes. they want to grant you privacy, and to at least keep a shred of the now ruined façade you had been putting on for everyone. if it means keeping it will give you comfort, then they wont take that away from you. they wait outside your door, waiting for the height of your episode to pass before cracking the door open. they dont say anything about what they had just heard, but you seem to know that they know.. i mean they came in so soon after you had calmed yourself down enough.

"are you okay?" a dumb question, but what else was there for them to say? you so obviously werent okay, and you likely werent for a long time. they offer to leave, to give you some time to pick yourself back up, but they also make it clear that they wont go anywhere if you dont want to be alone. the night is tense and awkward, filled with conversation before they eventually broach the topic... i think you guys would develop some sort of secret code. i mean youve been hiding your true feelings for so long, and outwardly saying you need help would compromise that mask you put up for yourself. be it a certain sentence or arrangement of objects, you two come up with a indirect way of asking for security

GANGLE:

she feels so helpless, the most out of everyone. she tries to get your attention, but her words fall on deaf ears, if they even manage to pry themselves out of her mouth. far too weak to pull you away and keep you from hurting yourself, but too soft spoken to bark out a word to draw your attention to her. truly, she feels useless. she isnt able to capture your attention until you finally notice her. similar to kingers part, you fall. she takes an unsure step towards you, hands half raised in front of her as she debates if you want to be touched or not. she settles to sitting in front of you, just barely holding eye contact... she looks down when you tear your eyes away from her. finally finding her voice, i think she would ask if you want her to stay, or if you need anything. she tries to word it the best she can, but she lets you know that she doesnt think any less of you for your outburst. it happens to the best of us, really it does. if you want her too, she wraps herself around you and tries to soothe your shaking form

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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andreafmn · 11 months

Text

Speak | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.6K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 9/? A/N: one day I'll upload early, y'all. but I am truly trying to keep to the schedule I posted, as hard as it is. But thank you for bearing with me. You guys have no idea how much it means to me 🥰🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

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Chapter 9

The Swan sisters had been raised with a misconstrued idea that the new year meant a fresh start, a clean slate. That it could magically erase any and all afflictions the year before had caused. That it truly was the first page of a new chapter.

And maybe that’s all that (Y/N) was hoping for that New Year’s Eve. That the coming year would be the first page of her new chapter in Forks. That whatever was happening with Paul would die that December night. That Bella would finally turn over a new leaf and forget Edward. That she could move forward with her relationship with Jake.

Because that’s what she wanted.

That’s what she had always wanted.

The thing she most needed was to get over whatever fluke it was that had made its way into her life. Whatever breach into her timeline that had decided to make her heart flutter out the sound of someone else’s name. It had been too sudden and unexplainable to not be a mistake.

Paul Lahote had no business settling into her heart in the way he had, and she would stop at nothing to pluck him as quickly as he had attached himself. Even if she looked forward to seeing him in her dreams at night, even if her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of him, even if all she wanted was to get as close to him as possible.

(Y/N) wanted —at least she thought she wanted— to go back to being excited that Jacob had finally set his sights on her. She wanted the same thrill she got about Paul with Jake. He had been the crush that had withstood the trials of time. It could not be trampled over by a guy she barely knew.

Yet, she could not stop thinking how his favorite color was red, how he moved to La Push after his parent’s divorced when he was eight, how he didn’t remember much of his mother even though he had been old enough to, how he had never been in love but desperately wanted to know what it felt like. (Y/N) could not stop picturing the way his eyes would shine under the warm glow of the setting sun, how his smile would grow as he listened intently to every word she spoke. Nor could she shake off the feeling of his warm skin against hers, how soft his hands had felt where she believed they’d be rough and calloused. He was everything and nothing like she had thought, but she knew that was as far as she could go to know him.

“Well, don’t you look mighty nice?” Charlie’s voice broke his daughter out of thought. “I think you’ve been to more bonfires this month than I have been to in years. People might start forgetting the sheriff’s face around there.”

“I doubt that’s even possible, dad,” she chuckled, smoothing over a piece of hair that had been unruly for the better part of the day. “Really wish you could join us, though. Since Bella won’t be making it out there, I wanted a Swan there for moral support.”

“This about that Paul fella?”

The question took (Y/N) aback. She had thought no one but Jake knew about that whole fiasco, and she was certain he had not said anything to her dad. “How do you…?” she stammered.

“Bella muttered a thing or two about him. Said he was the one you had been with the other night,” her father said. “Something happen with you and Jake?”

“Nothing happened,” she muttered. “I’m just making new friends seeing as my stay in Forks might be longer than anticipated.”

“Well, that’s a good idea. Just be careful of the people you keep in your company.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Jake might have mentioned this Paul Lahote character is not the greatest influence,” Charlie added. “He thinks he might not have the purest of intentions with you, (Y/N). I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

“Well, I can tell you right now that you have nothing to worry about,” (Y/N) smiled comfortingly. The last thing she wanted was for her father to worry about her when his other daughter was still no more than a statue in their home. “I have only hung out with him that one time and I don’t think it’ll happen again. But thanks for checking in.”

“Just wanna make sure your transition back here is as smooth as possible, kiddo,” he responded warmly. “I know it’s gonna be hard to settle back here after being with your mom for so long. Forks might be a bit slow but it’s truly home.”

“I’m actually excited about staying. Even if it wasn’t the plan originally, there’s something about this town that’s just begging for me to stay,” she confessed. “Even if I came to help with Bella, I’m glad I decided to stay. It will also keep mom from taking us both back to Florida —at least for a while.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” The older Swan said before she nodded in response. “I’m just glad you two wanted to spend time with your old man. Even if I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing good, dad,” (Y/N) chuckled. “I will say you got the shortest end of the stick having to be the one dealing with this breakup but I know you’re doing the absolute best you can. Hopefully, this new year brings us all the fresh start we so desperately need.”

“I hope so too, kiddo,” he sighed in defeat. “But have fun tonight, (Y/N), and make good choices.”

“Have I ever done anything else?”

“Very funny, kid,” Charlie chuckled. “Well, I’m off to work. I’ll probably not be here yet when you get back, so happy new year, (Y/N). And have fun.”

“Happy New Year, dad.”

Everything in Forks seemed to move at a punishingly fast pace, even if at times it felt like the town was stuck in time. But (Y/N) had been there almost four weeks which had already felt like a lifetime.

In comparison to living with Phil and her mother, in the midst of travel and adventures that she had loved for a time, (Y/N) had forgotten the calmness of remaining stagnant, of going to sleep and waking in the same home. She had forgotten what walking the halls of a school felt like, of having a group of friends that lasted more than a year.

Forks would give her that opportunity, or at least she hoped it would. The town had already started to change her and given her more than she could’ve hoped for. And that night she truly believed would set everything in the correct motion. Everything she had wished for with no more flukes.

An hour later and from the street she heard the honk of a horn. She gave herself a once over, not feeling completely comfortable with the way she looked that night. In part, she felt it was merely the nerves of seeing Jacob after the altercation with Paul.

But there was another part, the bigger part, that knew it was because of Paul. There was a calming thrill to him that she couldn’t explain. Even the juxtaposition of the thought made no sense to her. As much as she wanted to stay away from him, she wanted to get closer. It scared and excited her all at once.

Yet, the person that was waiting for her was not him. It was Jake, waiting impatiently behind the wheel of his truck.

“What took you so long?” Jacob grumbled as (Y/N) got into the car. “We’re already late as it is.”

“Sorry, Jake. I couldn’t find my jacket.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N). It’s just that Quil came back from his trip, and I wanted to catch up with him before school starts,” he said. “I also haven’t seen Embry since last weekend since he was with his mom visiting some family.”

“Yeah, I get that,” (Y/N) responded meekly, sinking into her seat. “At least we have the rest of the night to hang out with them.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he smiled forcefully. “What about Bella? Is she not coming?”

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “She wasn’t up to coming. Still bummed about this Edward guy.”

“What a shame,” Jake sighed. “Being around people would be good for her.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she mumbled. “But I can’t really force her. This guy did a number on her and nothing dad and I are doing is working. I’ve even decided to…”

“Maybe you guys don’t know her as well as you thought,” he blurted. “I mean, no offense but she’s not the same girl that left Arizona. She’s not even the same girl that came to Forks.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help her, Jake. And that’s what we have been doing this whole time. Still, we can’t help someone that doesn’t want to help themselves.”

“I’m not trying to start a fight, (Y/N),” he grumbled. “I’m just saying that maybe your efforts have not worked because she’s not the same Bella you knew.”

The girl remained quiet, anger filling her body instantly. Bella remained a sore subject in the new relationship, always being brought up by Jacob, reminding (Y/N) that he had liked her sister first –and, deep down, she knew he probably still did. Still, wanted to remain in the delusion that he had chosen her for as long as she could.

“It’s fine. Let’s just drop this, okay?” (Y/N) pleaded. “I just want to enjoy tonight. Please.”

“Alright, yeah. Whatever.”

The rest of the ride went by in silence, a heavy tension filling the air and suffocating her. At that moment, more than ever before in her life, she needed to believe that the new year was truly a fresh start. A new beginning for her sister, a new beginning for her relationship, and a new beginning for her life in Forks.

As soon as the truck rolled to a stop, Jake was out of the car and heading to the beach, mumbling something to (Y/N) that he was gonna see his friends and that he’d catch up to her soon enough. Then, he left her in between the small sea of cars that lined the border of the beach.

The younger Swan was left dumbfounded, completely perplexed at Jake’s reaction. His outburst had made her feel small and unwanted. And as she stood frozen at her spot, watching the community celebrate before her, she wondered if there was any reason for her to be there. Because maybe the best thing she could do, for everyone, was leave.

“I’m glad you came, (Y/N),” a voice startled her. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Paul, hi,” she blushed, looking down at the black jumpsuit she wore under a white coat. “Thank you. You look great too. Especially with my sweater.”

“Oh, it was cold tonight and it was the first thing I grabbed,” he chuckled. “I promise I was gonna bring it back to you, not use it like it was mine.”

“Honestly, it looks better on you than it does me. Sometimes I feel like I drown in it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Your look great in a paper bag,” he grinned. “But I really am glad you came tonight.”

“And why is that, Paul Lahote?”

“Because I wanted to apologize for the other day. I never wanted things to end the way they did,” he said. His eyes searched hers in the darkness, wanting nothing more than for his hands to reach her, to feel her skin against his once more. “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble between you and Jacob. The last thing I would have ever wanted was for you to be blamed for my actions. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thank you, Paul,” she smiled, her hand unconsciously reaching for his, giving it a comforting squeeze. “But it’s not your fault. I was the one that agreed to spend time with you knowing that Jake would blow off the handle. If anyone is to blame for what happened that night, it’s me.”

Paul couldn’t help himself as his free hand flew to rest on her cheek, cradling her face in a soothing manner. “Nothing that happened was your fault, (Y/N),” he said. “Jake simply showed you who he is. You never did anything wrong. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

In that split second, (Y/N) remembered Jake’s words. She broke away from his contact, as though his touch had burned her skin, turning away from the enchanting trance his eyes held over her.

“What’s wrong?”

“It's just that Jake said something about you and… your past,” she sighed. “He said I was just an attempt to make your body count higher.”

“I hope you know how untrue that is,” he said, seething on the inside but not daring to show it to her. “You are special, (Y/N), and I would never do anything that would make you feel otherwise.”

“But why, Paul? What is so special about me? To everyone, I’m just Bella’s little sister.”

“You have to know that that is the least interesting thing about you,” he said. He reached out to her, needing to look her in the eye again. “You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re smart and witty. And that’s merely the tip of the iceberg. I may not have known you for long but I know there’s so much more to you than you let on. And all I’ve wanted was to learn about those parts that you hide from everyone else.”

“I still don’t know why!” (Y/N) responded, frustration pooling beads of tears in the corners of her eyes. “How can I trust someone that somehow says everything I want to hear but won’t give me a straightforward answer? Why me, Paul? Out of all the people in the world, why do you want to know me?”

At that moment, he felt he would spill everything. He wanted her to know just why it was her, why the universe had decided that it had to be her. Paul wanted to confess what bonded them and would keep them for the rest of their lives.

And he would have, but the fear of putting her in any danger could not let him say the words. He could not bring himself to utter any of the words that would throw her life up in shambles. “Why not you, (Y/N)?” he asked her, biting his tongue to keep what he wanted to say from spilling. “Is it so hard to believe that I could have seen you and be intrigued by you?”

“You saw me for a split second, Paul. Someone you’ve never known of cannot be worth all this trouble.”

“You are worth it, (Y/N).”

“And you are frustratingly vague,” she finally cracked a smile. “Why can’t you just answer me? What is it that you’re hiding?”

“You’d never believe me if I told you,” he copied her smile. “And isn’t a little mystery fun?”

“It could be if it didn’t get me in trouble with my boyfriend.”

“That could be fixed by breaking up with him, you know,” Paul teased. “A lot of things could be fixed if Jake was gone.”

“Are you threatening my boyfriend, Paul Lahote?”

“I would never,” he laughed. “But I still believe that he doesn’t deserve you, (Y/N).”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“Don’t think I can.”

And maybe she knew he was right but it was too hard to admit it, to him or to herself. She had wanted Jake for the better part of her life and one night could not change that. She wouldn’t let it. “Then you’re gonna have to if there’s ever gonna be some sort of friendship between us,” she said. “Might be hard to spend time with someone that’s always trashing their boyfriend.”

“I mean, you’ve only got a couple more weeks before you have to go back to Florida, right? I think I can control myself in that time.”

“Actually, I decided to move to Forks with my dad,” she smiled. “Bella isn’t getting better and I’ve honestly gotten attached to this town. It might be that some people have made this place so enchanting.”

“Then I guess I’m gonna have to work harder on pretending that I like Jake,” he grinned. “But I am glad you’re staying. The town wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I’ve only been here for three weeks, Paul,” she laughed.

“And nothing has been the same since.”

“You’re something else.”

“I could say the same about you,” Paul added before noticing Jared calling him over. “And on that note, I will have to leave you. I’ve got a couple of things I have to do. But not before you give me your phone number.”

“My number?”

“That way I’d we ever wanna see each other it doesn’t have to be by me showing up at your house or running into each other at a bonfire.”

“Right,” she chuckled, handing him her phone. “That’s smart.”

“I’ll see you around, (Y/N),” he smiled before kissing her on the cheek and disappearing down the beach.

As soon as he was out of sight, (Y/N) looked around, hoping that no one had witnessed what had just happened. As innocent as everything could have been, in such a small town, everything was known.

Once she had calmed down, she finally walked toward the commotion of the beach. Feeling as confused as she had been since meeting Paul, but at peace. Being around him made her feel serene, tranquility spreading through her veins. Though he made her heart race, he didn’t make her chest feel tight. It was a feeling that made her feel equal parts uneasy and calm.

“Where were you?” Jake asked as she joined him and his friends, a hint of annoyance dancing between his words.

“Just around,” she smiled. “I was actually planning to get something to drink. Do you guys want anything?”

“We’re good,” Embry smiled kindly. “But thank you.”

“Just hurry,” Jake added before becoming more interested in the conversations he was having before she had gotten close. “And bring me back a water, thanks.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

(Y/N) left him quickly, needing to compose herself before heading back toward him. She could feel how annoyed he was at her. Ever since that afternoon with Paul, Jake had become distant and rather cold toward her but she could understand why. As much as it pained her, she knew why and that she had to do something to make it up to him while keeping what angered him a secret.

“It’s good to see you around, (Y/N),” Billy said as he joined the girl’s side at the refreshment table. “I was wondering when I would see you again.”

“Hi, uncle Billy,” she smiled. “I’ve been meaning to go by the house but I’ve been busy these couple of days.”

“And things have been heated between you and my son.”

“How did you…?”

“Small town,” he smiled softly. “But I’ve already had some words with my son about his behavior toward you. It was completely unacceptable.”

“It might have been an overreaction but it was warranted,” she said looking down. “I knew what I did would anger him but I still did it.”

“That doesn’t mean he can chastise you in the middle of town. My son is young and can be quick-tempered,” Billy sighed, taking one of (Y/N)’s hands in his. “He says and does things that he doesn’t know he will regret one day, and you don’t deserve to be in the receiving end of that.”

“Thank you, Billy,” (Y/N) smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “But I’m sure he’s sorry for that night and we’ll work through it together.”

“You know, I love my son, but he can be quite stubborn when he wants to. Even at his own detriment. Still, I hope this new year brings you both clarity and growth. Both personally, and if the gods want it, in your relationship as well.”

“I hope so too, uncle Billy.”

“My son is lucky to have you by his side. Even if he doesn’t know it.”

(Y/N) felt a new surge of confidence as he joined Jake and his friends once more. Knowing Billy was watching her back made her feel stronger about her relationship with Jacob and that it was worth investing her heart and time into. She knew her heart yearned for Jake and all she felt toward Paul was a strong sense of friendship.

As the hours passed and the tension between her and Jake seemed to dissipate, her resolve simply solidified itself. She would do anything possible to fix her relationship with her boyfriend and keep her friendship with Paul separate from Jacob.

But there was the smallest part in her that replayed Paul’s voice. He kept telling her how she deserved better and that Jake was not the right person for her, even if that was who she had wanted for so long.

Still, when the clock struck twelve, Jake was the one she kissed, and wished things would work out between them. She wished for him to only see Bella as a friend and finally give his whole heart to her. Wrapped in his arms as they cheered the new year, she begged the universe to give her the chance to have everything she had wished for.

Yet as her eyes found Paul’s in the crowd, she doubted if it was what she truly wanted or if she was holding onto a silly childhood dream.

Next ->

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doxypsychlean · 1 year

Note

is there a part 2 to Strong maybe bit of smut

Strong pt.2

Aegon ii Targaryen x Strong!Reader

Previous chapter: Strong pt.1

Warnings: Targcest, Explicit language, NSFW content, Blood, Aegon beats up Aemond(not that bad, I swear)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Additional info: Instead of Rhaenyra escorting the Strong fellas back to Dragonstone, they all stay in the Red Keep(just imagine it for a sec that Alicent begged her ass off and got Rhaenyra to stay, cs she wants to spend more time w her(this is my fkn world and in it, these two make up idc)

A/N: Ooop, here it fkn issss!!! Ngl, I was cackling like a middleschooler while writing the spicy part of this one. Welp... Cheers, you horny bastards!!!

P.S. I fkn lied, this is nowhere near close to the req. Sorry, dear Anon.

A choked up sob came out of the Prince's mouth as he rubbed the linen washcloth over the bitemarks on his neck. Tears welled up in his eyes, but Aegon was quick to blink them away, before the woman could see.

She was sat across him, on the edge of the bed, watching him as Aegon dabbed away the blood. She was already dressed, in a long, bell-sleeved green gown that showed off every curve of hers. Aegon sneaked a glance at her deep neckline, then quickly averted his eyes.

The woman noticed it immediately, eyes never leaving his face. She ran a soft hand over her shoulder and pushed her long, dark hair out of the way, so it could trail down her back.

"Our mothers, along with your sister, Baela and Rhaena are in the gardens." She said, voice gone back to its usual cushiness. "They invited me to join them. I trust you will behave?"

The silver haired man flinched at her question. His hands dropped down to his lap, pulling at the washcloth as his eyes looked down at the dirty sheets.

Behave. Behave. Behave.

"Love?" Her eyes narrowed, word coming out rough and low.

Aegon flinched again. He looked up at her, head shaking up and down violently. She let out an amused hum, then got up on her feet.

"Good." She was now standing next to him, one hand reaching up to his face. She took in the angry bruise she'd awarded him with the night before. Then the faint imprints of her hand that covered his face, neck and chest. The rest staying hidden from her eyes by the sheet Aegon had covered his lower half with. "You're so good."

Aegon whined, the pathetic sound reverberating in his head. Before he had time to curse himself out for it, her fingers hooked under his chin. He turned to face her, hands clutching and pulling at the washcloth.

"My brothers are with Aemond and Ser Criston, in the training grounds." She said, thumb running over his bottom lip. "You'll join them."

It wasn't a question, but an order. One he wasn't brave enough to not follow. Not after the things his sweet,sweet wife had done to him throughout the previous night.

"That's it." The woman laughed out as she bent forward, lips meeting with those of Aegon. "I must go, my love. Get ready, then head down. You'll find clothes on the chair over there."

His pale eyes shot open, following to where her hand was pointing at. He nodded once more, head falling down after. The Prince put the washcloth on the nightstand as he got up.

Although he was a few good inches taller than her, Aegon felt incredibly small. Weak. Worthless. Undeserving.

He hissed as her hands wrapped around his wrists, successfully getting her to pull away. For a bit. Then she grabbed him again, this time much more gently, and brought them up so she could take a closer look.

The porcelain skin was now red and swollen. The ropes had left behind thin, angry traces where they'd cut in, marring the blank canvas Aegon was.

"I am sorry, my dragon." She whispered as she peppered his inner wrists with soft, apologetic kisses.

"It's fine." The Prince finally spoke out, his voice hoarse and trembling. He was smiling down at her, trying to bite back another hiss. "I...enjoyed it."

The brunette looked up at him, plump lips meeting with the red skin for the last time before she let go. Her arms wrapped around his neck, body pressing close to his.

Aegon rubbed his bruised cheek against hers, melting in her hands.

"My dragon..." She trailed off, pulling him impossibly close to herself. "I love you."

Aegon whined again, the tears now falling freely from his eyes. His hands reached for her hips, nails digging into the green silk of the gown that covered them.

"Say it again..." He was falling apart, body shaking with the intensity of the sobs that left his mouth. "Please."

The woman kept quiet. The fingers that were rubbing small circles on the back of his head, stopped moving.

"Please." Aegon needed to hear it. Especially after the cruel words she'd punished him with the night before. "Tell me you love me. Please."

Love me. Love me. Love me.

But she didn't say it. Instead, she unwrapped her arms from around him. The Prince almost fell to his knees at the loss of contact.

"Get dressed." She turned around, walking towards the doors of their chambers.

Aegon became painfully aware of the pitiful state he was in- naked, crying and begging, covered in endless amount of bruises, scratches and marks. He tried to put himself back together, to wipe the broken expression off his face. But there was no point.

In just a few hours, she'd completely destroyed whatever it was, that was left of the Prince. He had no ground to stand on. Not anymore. He could yell in her face, break her to pieces, even kill her. But she'd die, knowing she won. Knowing that she'd broken him in, taken him down to being this sad, miserable excuse of a person.

"I love you." Her voice reached Aegon's ears. "I truly do."

Then she was gone.

────────────

"What happened to you?" Aemond asked as his brother approached him. He lowered his sword, signaling to Criston he'd take a break.

The knight offered a small nod, then turned his attention to the younger boys who were standing off to the side.

"Got into some trouble last night?" The one-eyed prince teased.

Aegon's head shot up, eyes staring up at his younger brother in shock. How did he find out, he heard his trembling voice inside his head. His legs almost gave out at the thought of Aemond knowing what she'd done to him. His brother already looked down on him, what must he be thinking now, that he knew his big brother was used like a whore.

"Told you that you shouldn't be going out into the city alone..." Prince Aemond said, hand reaching for Aegon's shoulder.

Aegon bit down a groan as his brother's hand came down on one of the bitemarks. He shook his head, his usual smug grin coming back on his face to cover the pain.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it." A relieved breath escaped through Aegon's words. Fortunately, Aemond didn't notice it.

The long-haired man lowered his hand, eyeing Aegon up and down suspiciously. There was nothing out of the ordinary. His brother looked a bit tired, a bit disheveled. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

He looked away for a second, then his eye came back to Aegon.

"What in the Seven Hells are you wearing?"

Aegon was sporting a high-collared black doublet, black pants and leather boots. That's not what shocked Aemond. It was the red shirt that showed underneath the doublet. The red cord it was embroidered with. The three-headed dragon pin on his chest.

Then his eye trained on Aegon's hands. The ridiculously large gold ring was resting on his little finger of his right hand. On his left thumb, however, was a simple steel band ring. One that had the sigil of House Strong on it.

Aegon turned red as he noticed the way his brother was inspecting him.

"Leave it be." He whispered, eyes going back to their nephews, who were now swinging at Ser Criston. "It doesn't concern you."

Aemond wrapped one gand around the back of Aegon's neck, eliciting a pained growl from his brother.

"You didn't get that nasty bruise out in the streets, did you?" Aemond teased, eye darting to his brother now and then. "No shame, brother. I honestly expected for your Strong lady to put you in your place way sooner."

Aegon didn't dare say a word. He stood there, allowing his baby brother to make his cruel joke.

"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond..." Criston's voice rang out. "Would you join us? We have to even the odds."

Aemond turned nodded, then took a step forward. He turned suddenly, spinning on one heel.

"Would anyone blame me if that little bastard lost an eye whilst sparring?" He said with that smirk of his. "Do you think your Strong lady will come after me, do to me what she did to you?"

And there it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. Aegon's back.

He lunged at his brother, knocking him to the ground. With his newfound strength, it only took a few blows to the face for Aemond to pass out, his head bouncing up and down with every hit.

Ser Criston, Luke and Jace reached them in no time. They tried to pull Aegon off, but the Prince simply refused to let go. The rage had blinded him, all he could see was his brother's bloodied face.

But it wasn't the cruel jokes. Nor was it Aemond threatening to take their nephew's eye out. It was him, suggesting that the Princess would put her hands on Aemond the way she'd done to Aegon.

That was for him. The pain, the humiliation,the punishment. All his. No one else's. His alone.

"Aegon!"

And just like that, Prince Aegon let go. He allowed for Criston to pull him to his feet and away from Aemond.

All his. No one else's. His alone.

He shook off Cole's hands, then turned to stare at her. Waiting. For her to storm over to him, and show everyone where his place was. To show to his mother, his sisters, his cousins, his nephews.

But nothing came. She stood there, at the top of the steps, staring down at him. One hand extended out towards Aegon. Drawing him, guiding him.

He didn't notice how Alicent ran past him, nor did he see how she dropped to her knees, next to Aemond's unconscious body. He didn't notice the scared and confused looks on his nephews faces or the way his half-sister, Rhaenyra, looked from her daughter to him with a smug grin.

All he could see was her.

Aegon followed the woman into the Red Keep and up the steps, towards their chambers.

────────────

"Why?" She asked, flopping down on the bed.

He didn't respond. Aegon was too busy trying to undo the clasps of his doublet to notice she'd said something.

"Come here..." She murmured, hand reaching out for him just like it had out there.

He heard her this time. Without wasting any time he strode over, only stopping when he had to look down to get a good look of her face.

They stood there like that for a bit, neither saying a word.

Then she spread her legs slowly, making room for him.

"Closer, I can't reach you."

The Prince took another step forward, now standing between her legs.

"I asked you a question." She said softly, fingers quickly undoing the clasps, then the buttons of his shirt. "Why did you do it?"

"He threatened to take your brother's eye out."

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Aegon." Her whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. There was no gentleness to her anymore. She tugged at the strings of his breeches, untying them with one swift move. "So why? I want the truth."

Aegon Targaryen had never shied away from a woman's touch the way he did when his wife's fingers ran down his happy trail. He sucked in a breath.

"He..." The Prince turned to look out the opened windows.

"What did he do?" She looked up at him, two fingers hooking at the front of his pants and tugging down.

"He asked if you'd do what you did to me, if he were to take his eye out." Aegon admitted, shaking his clothes of his body.

"And that made you knock Aemond out cold because..." The woman almost laughed at her own words. Aegon got him good, she couldn't deny it.

She watched as his breeches fell to the ground, freeing Aegon from the tight grasp they had on him. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched him, his already hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen.

Aegon looked away again, too ashamed of how much effect she had on him.

Two hungry eyes were staring down at the head of his cock, deep shade of pink and already leaking.

"Because...?" She teased, hand wrapping around him.

Aegon let out a deep moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His pale face was turning red, making the purple bruise on his cheek stand out even more.

He hissed as she dragged her hand up and down the length of his cock at a painfully slow pace. The soreness of the night before still lingered, making every inch of his body scream in agony. Still, he found himself coming to love the feeling. The pain. The humiliation. The punishment.

"Because I don't want you to touch anyone else the..." His breath hitched as the brunette bent down a bit and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.

She felt him twitch slightly, making her let out an amused huff. A shiver ran down Aegon's back when he felt her warm breath hit him. His hand came to rest at the back of her head, gently massaging the skin underneath his fingers.

The sensation of her wet tongue dissappeared once she reached the tip, leaving the man to thrust his hips into the air. Then her full lips wrapped around the head, her tongue circling around it. She let out a low hum, the sound reverberating throughout his whole body.

"I don't want you to do what you did to me last night to anyone else!" He cried out, almost toppling over at the feeling of her tongue rubbing over the slit of his cock. "Just me..."

Her lips left him with a loud pop, the woman laughing softly at it. She wiped away the mixture of precum and saliva from her lips as she looked up at him.

"Just you, my dragon." She said as her hands wrapped around his wrists gently, guiding them towards her shoulders. "Help me get it off."

Aegon looked at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. His confusion didn't prevent him from sliding down the garment past her shoulders.

"You're not angry at me?" He asked.

"Quite the opposite..." The brunette said as she got up, leaving barely any space between their faces. "I'm proud of you, my brave dragon."

Another whine escaped Aegon as he slid his hands down her body, ridding her of her green gown. He pulled her close, their chest pressing against together.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck, planting wet, needy kisses on the skin there. Aegon lifted her up, the woman wrapping her legs around his waist quickly. He climbed on the bed while still holding her.

"I'm so sorry..." He said as he pulled away to look at her. "About yesterday. I didn't mean it, I just wanted to get a reaction from..."

She cut him short, pushing him off of her and then climbing on top of Aegon. On hand reached up to cover his mouth, the other going to his throat.

"I know." The Princess said, grinding down on him.

Aegon moaned from behind her hand, thrusting up. The grip she had on his throat got stronger. He stilled, his breathing did too.

The hand on his face turned, until her thumb was pressing down on his lips. He opened his mouth, tongue swirling around the single digit, cheeks hollowing as he sucked in.

"So good..." She whispered, her other hand sliding down his body and dissappearing between them. "So fucking good. For me."

Aegon's eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, head shaking up and down with a choked moan.

"So brave..." The woman raised up slightly as she guided his cock to her, rubbing it over her slick cunt. "My brave dragon."

He bit down on her thumb as the tip of his cock entered her. The woman hissed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she hooked her other fingers under his chin, then shook slowly.

"Try not to bite it off or I'll have to return the favor." She joked, eyes darting from him to where their bodies met.

Both let out a chuckle, the sound soon getting replaced by Aegon's whines.

"Move." He unwrapped his lips from around her thumb, teeth still holding it in place. "Please."

"As my Prince commands..." Her breath hitched as she slammed down on him.

Her free hand trailed back up and then down again, nails digging in. Soon his porcelain skin turned to an angry shade of red, blood prickling.

Aegon couldn't hold back anymore. His hips snapped up, meeting with hers. Her palm collided with his face. He bit down on the digit in his mouth again with another hard thrust.

Another slap. His cheek was staring to sting. Then he did it again.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" She hissed out as she bounced up and down.

Aegon hummed, tongue rubbing against the pad of her thumb.

She pulled her hand away from his face, his teeth dragging over.

"I want to hear you." She said as she dropped down to his chest, legs giving out. "Say it."

Aegon mumbled a few incoherent sentences before wrapping his arms around her waist tight. He set up a painfully fast speed, skin hitting skin as he chased his own high.

Her mind went blank at the first thrust, hands pushing up as she tried to pull away from his grasp. She almost slipped away, but Aegon was quick to follow her. His head dipped down, lips wrapping around one of her nipples. He bit down and then sucked in, just as she'd done to him the night before.

A hiss came from the woman. One of her hands sneaked over his shoulder, then pulled his head back by his hair.

A thin string of saliva trailed from his mouth and down to her bruised nipple. He offered a toothy, devilish grin before licking his lips clean.

"I'm close." She stuttered, eyes shutting tight.

Aegon laughed out as his bruised cheek came to rest on her chest, his eyes closing. He kept the same pace, the sweet aching in his hips coming once more.

"Princess, the feast..." The doors flew open, one of her maids barging in. "Oh, Gods!"

The girl left just as quickly, blush creeping up on her face.

"Don't stop!" She moaned out as Aegon's thrust stuttered. "Don't!"

He laughed again, hips snapping. Then he stopped completely.

"It would seem I still don't know my place, wife." He craned his neck up as his mouth left behind a hot, blazing trail from her collarbones to her jaw.

"You'll learn..." The woman looked down at him, hand going back to wrap around his throat. "...husband."

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #strong!reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #game of thrones #dance of dragons #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #accepting requests #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon the second #requests open #not safe fw #i laughed harder than i should have #sorry but I can't take this seriously #aegon targaryen x reader

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winterspiderpurrs · 12 days

Text

Bucky was just exiting the debrief room after returning from a mission with Sam when he spotted Tony and Steve talking to each other. They were both looking at what Bucky recalls is an ipad, swiping images across the screen. Steve nodded along as Tony rattled on. Tony glances up when he enters the room and waves him over.

" First, I'm still going to do what I want. But what do you think of Peter getting his own place?"

Bucky blinks, looks at Steve, and then back at Tony.

" He likes living with May for the most part. He already has an apartment you set up for him in the tower, as well as a room at the compound and your lake house. Plus, if he isn't there, he visits Ned"

Steve nods and points to the ipad,

" and he seems like a fella who wouldn't want you to buy him a duplex. In Queens or not."

" He is in college. He needs privacy, especially with the Spideymonkey gig he still insisted on doing."

Steve and Bucky move to look at each other. They know what Tony isn't saying. That Peter needs a place he could bring someone back to.

" Just talk to the guy and see if he wants that."

Steve squints for a moment at Bucky when he says that.

**RING RIIINNNNGGGG RIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGG**

Bucky pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen. It's Peter calling.

Tony, being Tony, looks over and notices as well who is calling. It doesn't even pass through his mind why Peter would be calling Bucky.

" Oh hey, let me talk to him," states Tony and he reaches for the phone.

Bucky was already in the process of answering and was moving the phone out of reach. In those few moments, the phone accidentally went to speaker mode.

" No hey its my phone."

" Just let me see it I paid for it"

Bucky ends up clenching the phone too hard in his metal hand and ends up muting the phone, but the speaker is still on.

Peter's voice comes through.

" Hello? That's some weird voice-mail message you got there. I'll help you set up a good one later. Anyway, you're probably in your debrief still. " heavy sigh could be heard, and the faint breeze of Peter probably swinging on his webs.

" I'm just now done with patrol. I've had a shit day of finals, and I smell like a dumpster cause I fell into a dumpster after I got stabbed. "

There was a pause before he quickly said," but don't worry, it's already healed, but yeah shitty night. I haven't slept since yesterday. So I'm gonna be exhausted when you get in. But I ordered some chinese for us, swinging to pick it up now, but it should still be warm by the time you get home. I apologize in advance if I have already passed out in bed when you get in. But I promise you amazing welcome back home morning sex. And I'll fix those waffles you like. But remember we are going to May's later for Passover since we couldn't yesterday. On Friday, we were invited over to the XMansion to celebrate there unless something else doesn't come up. But yeah, I'm rambling."

He sighs a little." I missed you. I'll see you at home in a bit. Love you, " you hear some rustling." Hey Miss Jenny, " "I got you extra egg rolls. " " Aweso-" the phone hangs up.

Everyone is staring down at the phone before Steve and Tony turn to look at Bucky.

Tony had no clue when Peter and Bucky would have gotten together and is now trying to piece together instances that should have stood out.

Steve, though, he was starting the suspect for a while now. The few times he visited Bucky's apartment, he noticed differences. The apartment seemed lived in compared to before. House plants, a video game console, a vast collection of movies that showed up on bookcases along with more photos and just more personal touches.

"Well. Looks like I need to get home. Don't call me"

Bucky tucks the broken phone back in his pocket before he quickly leaves.

Steve eyes Tony warily.

" But... no. When did the terminator get with my kid?"

"He isn't a kid anymore he is 22"

" Zip it, capsicle! "

#writing prompt #winterspider #peter parker x bucky barnes #winterspiderpurrs

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soapybutt17 · 8 months

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Light of My Life

Summary: The New Year meant new things for everyone in the Price Household. A not-so new face had also become an addition to the chaos if it all. Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon Riley. Soap MacTavish. Word Count: 3,146 Chapter Warnings: None A/N: @glitterypirateduck: here is part two like I promised. hope you enjoy~

Part 2 for Your Are My Sunshine

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“Why are you more nervous than me?” Kyle couldn’t help but point out the moment the car has stopped in front of a rather large farm house a few hours outside the city.

As Kyle stepped out of the car and gazed up the vast expanses of rolling green hills, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. You had always spoken about your family’s farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer grandeur of the place.

The farmhouse stood proudly at the crest of a gentle slope, its stone walls weathered by centuries of wind and rain. Ivy clung to its sides, giving it a rustic charm that was impossible to resist. A slate room crowned the structure, and a tall, stone chimney sent a plume of white smoke spiraling into the clear blue sky. The whole scene was like something out of a fairy tale.

You led Kyle up the gravel path that wound its way to the front door, and as they approached, he couldn’t help but notice the colorful flowerbeds that lined the walkway. Brilliant reds, purples, and yellows contrasted with the lush green grass, creating a vibrant tapestry of colors that he would have only seen in movies.

As you finally knocked on the door, the noise from the inside of the house halted. Kyle had only notice now in his amazement the array of voice that could be heard from the inside.

Opening the door, your father, Captain John Price, stood talk. A deep frown rested on his lips the moment his eyes met him as well as your own. The frown grew even bigger the first moment he caught sight of your hands holding onto his own.

“Darling. Sergeant.” Price had acknowledged, opening the door further to let the two of you inside.

That had somehow surprised him. The Captain’s reaction was the last thing you would have expected to give him at this point after hiding his relationship with his daughter and how he had downright lied through his teeth for well over a year because of it.

What surprised him even more was the sight of two familiar co-workers that also seemed to be just as surprised as the two of you the moment you step foot inside.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You questioned but your question was immediately tackled into a hug by your mother.

“You finally brought your boyfriend along. He’s a handsome fella too.”

Kyle was left stun by the short woman—shorter than you were which was saying a lot as you barely reached his shoulders and you were a few inches taller than her. But her height did compensate at how much of a firecracker she was as he was being pulled away from the pack of lion ready to devour him.

With the two of you dragged into the kitchen, Kyle was had come to realize that the apple doesn’t fall far from the three as she began her array of questions about your drive to the farm, and how meeting his parents had gone. All of which you had answered with the same enthusiasm as your own mother. The smile on your face return, Ghost and Soap being in the house was momentarily forgotten.

“I’ve dealt with your father and the two boys for you two. So you’re both safe from them for the rest of the night.” She winked towards him and he had let out a sigh of relief because of it.

“Thank you.” Kyle spoke. “I’m sorry for coming without notice.” He apologized being another mouth to feed for tonight.

“Nonsense. When I learned that Simon and Jonny were coming I’ve made food that is enough to feed the entire army.” She spoke as a matter of factly. “Besides, I am still hoping that my daughter would finally bring you along to meet us. I’m happy that she finally did—even if the circumstance isn’t on your end on this.”

Kyle nodded before turning towards you knowing the implication of his arrival.

“Now since I’ve pulled you two away from the chaos of the three boys still in the living room, why don’t you two head upstairs to your bedroom to freshen up, I’ll deal with your father for you for the time being.”

John Price was not happy one bit. Not even the fact that he was home for once for the holidays could brighten his mood. Not even the fact that all his children were in the same room or the fact that his own sets of children in the base were also here to celebrate the New Year could brighten his mood.

How could he be so blind to not see it?

His daughter that had been through so much growing up with a father that gave you so much empty promises that it took him years to even allow him to make his own and keep. The daughter that might not have been his blood but he loved just the same like the rest of his own. The daughter that he would die over and over again if it meant you were happy and safe.

How could he have not seen the way you look at his boy Gaz, the man that he had immediately taken under his wing since the incident in Piccadilly. The man that he had hope to be better than he could ever think of being in his career. The man that was torn and pulled apart for the war that had no beginning nor end. The man that he would take a bullet for if it ever come to it.

How could he not see the way you two look at each other the way that you did in front of him now?

“They look so in love. He looks are her just like how you look at me.”

His attention had turned away from the happy couple and turned to his own beloved. When he had first found out about you and Gaz making out in the parking lot for Soap and Ghost to see, he had a mind to drive straight to Gaz’s house just to beat the living shit out of the man, but his wife was godsend. Immediately putting her foot down at his plan and brought all the anger he had to a halt.

“I don’t look at you like that.” He muttered, refusing to admit as such—not wanting to be compared to Gaz at the moment.

“So you don’t look at me with love, John?”

“I didn’t say that.” He muttered turning his attention back to the pint of beer in his hand. “I have my own way of looking at you.”

“Like you want to get into my pants?” She teased him.

“I mean—” He trailed off with a smirk, earning a light slap onto his chest and the all too familiar giggle from her.

“You’re impossible.” She rested her cheeks against his shoulder, her eyes glued to the picture perfect sight of their daughter and his—Sergeant. “After everything we’ve been through, I never thought I would see the day that she’s happy with someone.”

“She had always said that she swore off men after what her father did to you.” John grunted, the memory of those words still haunted him.

How such a little girl like you back then had been forced to grow up and see that not everyone could be kind—not even your blood. It was a statement that had haunted them all for years. If he’s not as good as Daddy John, I don’t ever want to have any man. It was a revelations for him back then, not only how your mind works as a toddler, but how you had finally called him Dad instead of the Mister Price or Mister John. It was at that moment that he had vowed to himself that he would make sure you had everything you could ever want, protected from any kind of heartache that may come into your life.

“She ate her words.” His wife acknowledged. “Don’t be too hard on Kyle. You always said that he was a good man. What difference does it make now that he’s seeing our daughter?”

She was right. She was always right when it comes to situations like this. But he couldn’t help but still be the overprotective father to you. He could throw you into the deepest parts of hell for missions because he was confident in your capabilities, but this was different. To him, he couldn’t do anything to save you from any form of heartache that would come your way.

“I don’t want her to get hurt anymore.” John finally admits.

The boisterous laughter of his children and that of Soap filled the air, the way you had egged Soap on with Kyle as his kids tackled Soap to the ground. But his mind was still filled with the dread of such a possibility. He could not see himself being able to see you heartbroken all over again over a man that disappointed you. He did not have the heart to look at Gaz the same way if he decided to hurt his baby girl.

“We can’t stop that, John. You and I know that. All that we could do is be there for her if ever the time comes. But seeing Kyle, seeing him with our daughter, I doubt that would even happen.”

“How could you know?”

“I just know. You have to trust me on this.” She winked finally standing up and announcing it was getting close to midnight.

John’s eyes turned towards the clock. It was few minutes to midnight and the New Year. With one command from him for everyone to head outside for the fireworks. Everyone scrambled out, Soap and the kids dashing out and racing to see who would be first. It left John and his wife for a moment in the sudden silence of their home.

“I trust you.” He whispered to his wife as they walked hand and hand outside to everyone standing around waiting.

The crisp cold air immediately hand him pulling his jacket off and wrapping around his wife. He had also noticed the same gesture that Kyle did for you. His jacket wrapped snuggled around you and you beamed at him as thanks.

Again, his wife was right.

As everyone awed at the fireworks that began to explode into the air, his arms had wrapped around his wife, but his gaze shifted back again towards you, how you snuggled into Gaz’s arms, both of your gaze up towards the sky as everyone began to countdown to welcome the New Year.

10.

Happy New Year!

The dark skies burst bright from the fireworks, and he had pulled his wife in for a kiss. Well over two decades together, who would have ever thought that this would be the life he would have for himself.

“Happy New Year.” He whispered against her lips before his attention turned back to every single one of his family.

His children wrapping their arms around Simon and Soap as they wished them a happy new year, to his daughter that had her eyes close and forehead resting against Gaz’s own, words that he couldn’t read were exchange between the two of them before Kyle gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, the nose, and finally the forehead.

Maybe his wife was right. Gaz could make you happy again.

“Dad! We’re on holiday!”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at your overprotectiveness for him and his sake. But for the past twelve hours, he was left unscathed at the hands of his Captain and the two overprotective older brothers you had earned in Soap MacTavish and Simon Riley. It was a win on his book but not something he would want to test.

So when his Captain had asked him for a quick walk out in the open fields the following morning, he did not even attempt to refuse the offer. But it did scare him that he had been adamant that Simon and Soap to not join along even as the Scot had insisted on it. He knew well enough to know that he wanted to talk, not as his Captain, but as the father of his girlfriend.

“It’s fine.” He tried to reassure you but the frown on your lips grew deeper refusing to break the glare that was still directed at your father.

“I agreed with your mother that I will not do anything during the New Year party, I never promised not to after.” Price had pointed out with a grin, it was his own little way of getting on your nerves and it was working far too well than even he would expect.

“You’re impossible, Dad.” You muttered plopping yourself onto the dinner table for breakfast.

Kyle turned to look towards your mother as she had placed a place of full English breakfast in front of you with an extra serving of eggs just like what you always liked. She shared a pointed look with her husband whose smile slowly fell before making his way outside to wait for him.

“Don’t worry about him, his bark is worse than his bite.” She had reassured but Kyle knew it wasn’t always the case. Working for him for as long as he did, his bite was all the more worse than his bark especially when he was certain it was for the greater good—greater good for this case was his daughter.

“I hope so.” Kyle joked, but the fear was all too evident in his voice.

Kyle had ignored Soap’s teasing as he finally made his way out of the house. His Captain was patiently waiting with his arms crossed against his chest. The moment he had noticed he was out, he began to walk and Kyle was left to follow him in silence.

It had been a five minute walk, the cool morning air a welcome companion to what he would expect would be a heated discussion between him and the man walking in front of him. All the anxiety of the secret he had hidden from him had continued to eat him up as the walk continued but he was afraid to start the conversation.

“Did she ever tell you about her biological father?” Price had began as they had halted by the herd of cattle by the meadows.

“Yes Sir.” Kyle responded.

It was the first thing you had ever told him early on in your relationship, how it had shaped the way to view relationships in general. He had know early on that there would be a possibility of what they had to be over before it had even started. He had thanked his lucky stars that it didn’t. Lucky enough that he could be everything you had hoped out of a relationship that you wanted and needed.

“Then I don’t need to tell you why I am not keen on having anyone dating my daughter, especially with someone that she works so closely with.”

Price had finally turned to look at him. Kyle had been all too familiar with the look. The stern cold wall that he used to intimidate any adversary that would even dare come their way. It was unnerving that he was directed with such a gaze instead of being in the background witnessing some other poor soul.

“Yes Sir.” Kyle agreed. “But I love your daughter, Sir. We have thought it would be best for everyone to keep in a secret until she was good and ready.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Over a year, Sir.”

“And what are you intentions with my daughter?”

Kyle took a moment, wanting to form his words carefully without causing more tension and chaos in their relationship going forward.

“I want to be the man she could depend on when she needs me to be. I want to be the man that could make her the happiest that she could be. I—I just want to be by her side whatever relationship it may be that she would want and need from me.”

He waited with bated breath as the Captain stared at him, scrutinizing his words carefully for all it was worth. Kyle was thinking that he was mincing his words and looking for anything that would incriminate him as insincere, but he was certain he would not find any.

“I want you to know, Sergeant.” He began. “That if I ever learn that you hurt her, in any shape or form, I would be the last person you should be worried about. You will worry for your career, for your safety, for your life if you even dare hurt a single hair from her pretty little head.”

Kyle gulped but nodded, knowing that this was no longer his Captain, but the father of his girlfriend that would drag him to the deepest parts of hell if he makes so much as a mistake of making you cry.

“But last night, when I saw her with you, she was the happiest I have ever seen. It was rare and far between when she was like it. The first time I’ve seen it was when I told her that I was officially adopting her as my own daughter. Those bright eyes that twinkled in a love she never thought she would ever deserve. I saw it when she looks at you.”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at such an information. He know the look he was talking about, he was certain that he was giving you the same, a look that was even more in love and adoration for you and everything that you do for him.

“You have my blessing when it comes to your relationship, but just know that you will both endure a couple of weeks of intense drills for lying to me about your relationship.”

Kyle thought as much. He nodded shoving his hands onto his pocket and only now did he realize the small box nestled deep inside his sweatpants.

“I also wanted to ask you blessing for something, Sir.” He began pulling out the velvet box for the man to see.

The Captain took a moment to realize what it was before a chuckle escaped his lips.

“I should have expected this.” He shook his head. But agreed nonetheless.

It didn’t take long for their holiday off to end and everyone was back to their normal lives inside the base and in mission. It did take long for Kyle to propose, who would have ever thought that he would in the brink of death while you held him close to you.

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bumpkinspice0 · 10 months

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Parallels Chapter 5

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!)

Word Count: 5969

Summary: An anomaly finally makes her way into you dimension and that comes with more than you thought.

Warnings: Canon typical violence (No blood or anything), un-beta'd as hell, S M U T, fingering, Tension, P n V sex (make sure you wrap it before you tap it folks), Praise kink, multiple orgasms, Miguel doesn't use stairs, don't look at me. Small note: I'm making a taglist for this fic! Just comment or message if you want to be added or just interact with this post!

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AO3

Chapter 5

Fury

Nothing compared to the highest rooftops of New York in the dead of night. Serenity and stillness above the constantly bustling chaos just below— The perfect hiding spot and vantage point. There was so much happening on the ground that people never bothered to look up all that much. Well, maybe they did a little more since you came into the picture.

It was a long journey but you eventually won the hearts of your fellow citizens. After years of fighting it couldn’t be denied that you were only here to help, despite what the Daily Bugle preached every Sunday.

“All units be advised,” the comm crackles in your ear. “Disturbance in Washington Square Park. Suspect reported to be superhuman.”

The largest victory in the past few years was probably getting the cops to finally trust you. Well, trust was a strong word. You could finally get in and fight a threat without having to worry about dodging gunfire or a helicopter chase afterward. The city's precincts were a good mix of welcoming your help with open arms or begrudgingly working with you. Still, it was better than what it had been.

Regardless, the NYPD were your eyes all over the city and you were the last call they hoped they’d never have to make.

“Call in the spider.”

That’s your cue— and you were finally close for once. Washington Square Park. No more than 5 minutes as the spider swings. You jump from your perch by the river and start making your way there. As you swing more reports come in.

“Suspect armed and dangerous. Explosives used.”

“Immediate area evacuated.”

“Suspect is airborne. Repeat, suspect is airborne. He’s got wings, fella’s.”

Oh, this was ramping up to be a really good night, but the next report nearly sends you tumbling.

“I don’t believe it– it’s— the Goblin. It’s the Green Goblin.”

Norman? No, he’d been dead for years. Killed by his own machines. This had to be a sadistic follower. A copycat. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d dealt with someone following in the footsteps of one of your mortal enemies.

Just another fun perk to this job.

You swing past the police barrier, landing in the circular concrete center of the deserted park. It was completely dark. They must have taken out all the street lamps. You couldn’t hear that god-awful maniacal laughter, but you smelled the residue from that stupid glider. The chemicals from some pumpkin bombs too. They were close, and they’d likely seen you swing in.

“Here, Goblin, Goblin, Goblin,” you taunt as you circle the center fountain. “If you come out we can play nice and maybe talk about our feelings.”

“ Spider-Girl , ” And there was that horrible, scratchy voice only someone with diagnosed insanity would think is cool. It definitely didn’t belong to Norman Osborn, though. You turn in its direction, only greeted with the sight of dark looming trees. “ Love the new suit. ”

“Oh, this old thing,” you mockingly bash, scanning the grassy area, “Just had it lying around, ya know. Not sure it’s really me though.”

“ Where am I? ” the faceless voice sneers, “ It was daytime. I was flying, then— You. You did this, didn’t you? ”

They were agitated— likely manic and confused, how could they not be if they’d somehow gotten their hands on the Goblin formula. You were the only target they had, and they likely hated you before all of this happened. You opt for the negotiating route.

“Look, buddy. We don’t have to fight,” You slowly raise your hands as a small peace offering, “If you’re confused, we can just—”

The figure bursts from the darkness, grabbing you by the throat and soaring into the night air. So much for negotiating. As you fly past the surrounding skyline you finally get a good look at your villain.

This goblin was a woman— with the most comically ridiculous pointed goblin ears you’d ever seen. She didn’t ride a proper glider but surfed on what looked more like a rocket. She wore head-to-toe metallic purple with some basic armoring around her mid-section and shoulders. All of her gear was clearly professionally made.

But there was something else about her. A faint aura. The way her body moved. The lines of her sadistic face— Something not of this world.

She was an anomaly.

Of course, how did you not think of it before? The one night you didn't wear your watch. It would have alerted you right away. You’d never had an anomaly enter your dimension before. Every one of them you’d faced up until the point was in someone else’s world. Other dimensions already felt so strange and off-kilter to you, you never stopped to think about how truly out of place the anomalies were. They all looked alien when the entire world was alien.

But this was your neck of the woods. This was your home and she was just so clearly not part of it.

“ How did you do this? ” she steadies her glider and holds you out over empty air.

“Would you believe me if I said this wasn’t your dimension?” You wheeze out in her grasp.

Through some divine comedic timing, she glitches. As her hand phases between worlds, you fall from her grasp. You tumble a few dozen feet before catching yourself on a building. Clinging to the brick, you look back up at your new goblin assailant.

The glitching comes to a shaky stop and she steadies herself on her rocket glider again. She takes a small moment to look down at her hands, a wave of shock overtaking her green face before it settles into fiendish joy.

“ So... I can travel between dimensions? ” she says more to herself than to you.

“ Travel is a strong word,” You get her attention.

She looks at you, “ You’re not my Spider-Girl? ”

“It’s Spider -Woman, actually.” you ready yourself to pounce at any moment.

“ How many of you are there? ” She asks, anger dotting her words.

“Oh yeah sure, just let me just give you a quick overview of the multiverse,” Without giving her time to react you shoot a web to the tip of her rocket glider, thrusting it off kilter in one motion. She goes flying. You jump after her, “That’s a terrible glider design by the way.”

“ Insolent brat! ” She screams, reaching out her hand. You reach for her, only to instantly be met with open air as she’s swept away by the glider. She can summon her dumb rocket- surfboard.

Of course.

You bank to her right, shooting web to at least immobilize her hands. Any web that gets near her is immediately slashed by blades now protruding from her wrists. You aim for her glider again, but she easily bobs and weaves past all of your shots now that she knows what to expect. She was better on that thing than you thought.

You jump, sticking yourself to the underside of the rocket glider. If you can’t stop her, then you’ll just have to dance with her.

“ You think you're a match for the Goblin QUEEN? ” She sneers, whipping around wildly to fling you off.

“Oh, apologies, your majesty. ” You rip off a panel of the flying device, grabbing at any cables and wiring you can, “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty.”

She grunts in frustration, whipping you to the left and slamming you into the nearest building. In the midst of the searing impact, you lose your grip on her.

“ Pathetic.” She swings around to hover in front of you, “ You’re not my Spider, but you’ll do for now. ” She barrels toward you at full force, a massive blade unsheathing from the front of her glider. Without time to jump, you catch her glider— holding her at arm's length while the blade extends out to mere inches from your face.

The brick around you cracks and crumbles as the full force of her glider pushes down on you.

“ I’ll kill you, then I’ll harness this power and kill ALL of you,” Oh great, she was monologging , “ Every Spider, dead by my hands. This is what I was born to do!”

“M-might wanna check that ego, lady!” you grunt, hiking up your feet to push back on the body of her glider. It was awkward but you had the leverage— you just don’t know how long you can hold it.

You kick your legs up, using her own force against her, and send her spiraling backward. You immediately get out of your cornered position and head back towards the open park. If she was covered in knives and reportedly using explosives, best to keep her away from any buildings. Make her focus all of her attention on you. You stand in the center circle again as she hovers overhead.

“ You can’t run, Spider-Woman, ” She taunts, “ And you can’t win .”

You don’t time have for a witty remark before she’s charging at you again, her glider's blade front and center.

You’re about to act when a bassy boom crackles and rips through the air, giving you both pause.

Then you feel it— A buzzing at the base of your skull.

Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding.

The portal forms just to your right. His webs appear first, red treads shooting from the golden light. They latch onto her glider. The Goblin, shocked, attempts to correct her course, pulling Miguel the rest of the way out of the portal with her. He stands strong, several strands of webs in each hand. He whips his lassos downward, sending her flying off the glider. Before she can summon it back he whips his arms again, redirecting it straight into the ground. It explodes instantly.

He drops the webbing and shakes off his shoulders. He turns to you, sleek mask obscuring his face. He was here. He was actually here.

“Uh, Thanks,” You say, “Was trying to get her off that stupid thing for like 10 minutes now.”

“Don’t mention it,” Though you can’t see it, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Two of you now? ” your assailant broods from the shadows. You and Miguel immediately stand back to back at the sound of her voice, “ No matter, you’ve stopped nothing. You can’t stop Fury. You can’t stop destiny. ”

“Oh, she’s a monologuer,” Miguel scoffs.

“Mhm, she’s already vowed to kill all of spider-kind.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he tuts back.

“Are all of you always so arrogant?” She sneers.

“Pretty much,” You answer.

What happens next you still can’t fully articulate. It was a matter of milliseconds, yet it felt as if the world moved at half its normal speed.

You feel it before you see or hear it. She throws three pumpkin bombs. Before the devices even leave her hands you know exactly what direction they're coming from in the darkness— And seemingly so does Miguel. You move together in perfect unison, dodging the explosives as they implode on the ground. She starts circling the two of you, throwing bomb after bomb. Still, not one touches you. Here in a complete darkness, it’s like you could feel every move she was going to make.

“Damned Spiders,” She grunts in frustration as she throws another pumpkin bomb into the concrete clearing. This one doesn’t explode on impact though. You and Miguel pause.

“Smoke!” He shouts, just a second too late. Pink gas explodes from the device. You’re able to escape only after having gotten a lung full of the nasty stuff. You cough and wheeze, barely able to swing to safety in the sparse trees. Miguel is nowhere to be seen, but you can sense him nearby. Maybe this spider-sense thing was coming in handy for once.

Goblin laughter from behind sends a shiver up your spine. You turn to see her perched in an oak tree. Just a few yards beyond her, a broad figure lurks in the settling pink mist. To catch this one, you had to be smarter. You’d have to lure her in— and part of you thinks Miguel has the same idea.

“Not bad, for a Psychopath,” you dust your legs off.

“ I think you mean visionary ,” She croons. “ You and your brutish Spider-man are no match for- ”

“Say’s the lady with no ride and a quickly dwindling supply of Spirit Halloween props.” You glance over and Miguel crouches down to all fours— Ready to pounce at exactly the right moment. Her guard is still up, if he jumped now he’d be met with a grenade directly to the face. You could distract her. Get all of her attention on you again. She obviously liked to talk, so…

“How do you even become Queen of the Goblins ?” You ask, leaning against a tree. “Is there a king? Is it David Bowie?!”

“ Silence! ” She screams. When in doubt, always go for the ego with super villains, “ I was chosen by Norman Osborn. Chosen at birth and raised for this purpose. ”

“Norman Osborn is dead.” you sneer, “And he certainly isn’t bestowing his messed up legacy on babies.”

“ In your reality, maybe. In mine, he’s a god, ” She crouches down, “ But you’ve opened my eyes to the possibilities, dear. Osborn lives, somewhere out there. I’ll find him. I’ll rally the goblins and we’ll finally kill you all.”

“Norman Osborn is dead ,” You repeat, “He always dies. Always . And it’s always a Spider standing over him.”

“ Not anymore.” You see her face contort in anger. Attacking her goblin cult leader must be the way to go.

“You know why?” You step toward her, “Because he’s weak.”

“Shut. Your. Mouth. ”

“Just a weak, pathetic, ordinary , man.”

“ Shut up! ”

You ready yourself, “Make me.”

She barely gets a foot off her branch before Miguel pounces from behind. All in an instant, he grabs her, pinning her arms to her chest— a portal forms above you, and Miguel, Goblin Queen in hand, fly’s through it.

It blips closed before you can follow. You instinctively reach for your watch, only to realize again you did wear it tonight. Of course, that’d make everything too easy. Why would you wear it if you weren’t planning on an interdimensional battle tonight? A mistake, you assure yourself, you’ll never make again.

The brief thought of hurrying directly home and following Miguel flashes through your mind. Even if you could somehow get back to your Brooklyn apartment in a matter of minutes, you still had other duties to attend to. The sound of several officers entering the park brings you back to reality. Miguel was a pro— he could handle it from here. You needed to let your people know the situation was taken care of.

You speak with the Sargent and Captain at the scene, spinning some lie about her being a deranged follower and one of her bombs malfunctioning, and vaporizing her instantly. It was absolutely ridiculous but they trusted you to never lead them astray. Better to lie here than release the secret of access to the multiverse. The threat to your city was gone. That’s all that mattered.

You, fortunately, manage to escape a press statement this time, regretfully leaving that task up to Captain Stacy. He was better with the cameras than you were anyway.

It’s nearly 3 a.m. when you finally get back home, sneaking into the building through your rooftop perch. Honestly, it’s an earlier night than most. Your back aches from being slammed into a brick wall and your head is still spinning from whiplash. A hot shower and your bed sounded like paradise.

Your building was an old warehouse renovated sometime in the 2000s. It used to be a massive bakery. You swear you can still smell freshly baked bread in the bricks some 20 years later. You fucking loved your apartment. Vaulted ceilings, massive industrial windows, and a lofted bedroom. You were able to afford it out of sheer luck.

Some business tycoon's daughter was kidnaped. When you returned her safely he handed you a briefcase with hundreds of thousands in cash, refusing to take no for an answer. You felt dirty taking it but you were flat broke since starting college and the medical bills from your nightly activities were piling up. You were younger then— and desperate.

Jack seemed amazed you were even feeling remorse for it at the time.

“You’ve saved this city how many times?!” he’d scold you. “I think you can have something for almost dying for the people of this town on a bi-weekly basis.”

Part of you agreed and part of you felt you were straying from the path— whatever that meant. Jack begged you to get something nice for yourself— so, you got this place and vowed never to take money for your job ever again. You fell in love as soon as you saw it. Your safe haven. Spider HQ, as Jack affectionately called it.

Miguel had an entire tower, you could have more than a shoebox apartment.

He was probably back at the tower now. You grab your watch and check the villain logs. Lyla kept a detailed list of who’d been captured and where. And there she was, right at the top.

Fury the Goblin Queen: Earth-982

Status- Captured: Earth-727 at 2200 hours

He handled it. Nothing else to worry about. You let out a heavy sigh and peal off your suit, sports bra, and underwear. A scorching hot shower and some ibuprofen were calling your name.

You’re about to climb the steps to your bathroom when you feel a slight tremble in the walls along with a buzzing in your head.

Again? Right now? You’re suddenly very aware of your complete nakedness and quickly grab one of your long abandoned t-shirts from a kitchen stool to cover up with. The baggy shirt barely brushed the tops of your thighs but it’ll have to do.

The golden portal formed in your living room, a still fully suited Miguel emerging from it. It closes behind him with a deep rumble.

“Thanks for waking all my neighbors up,” you pinch the bridge of your nose.

His mask fades away, revealing that stupid handsome face, “You didn’t follow.” he simply says.

“Didn’t have my watch. I won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t check in, either.”

“Didn’t think I needed to,” you groan, rubbing the back of your stinging neck, “I just got home after defusing the scene for 2 hours. Sorry if it slipped my mind.” The last part comes out more bitchy than you intend but you were fucking tired. And he comes to your home— To what? Berate you about protocol? Fuck off.

“Sorry, just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He says, earnestly. Okay, well now you do feel a little bit like a bitch.

He could have just called or asked Lyla to check up on you, be he came himself. He was here, in your apartment. The realization makes your spider sense spike.

He’s here and you're both alone.

“I’ve… never fought with you before,” He says, relaxing his posture, “You did good.”

“You too,” you say passively. You lean against the kitchen counter, letting the following silence linger into uncomfortable territory. What else was there to say? He came to make sure you were okay, the villains locked up and your dimension isn’t crumbling. Still, that dreaded sixth sense pulled at you to keep him here. Just a little longer, “Has it ever felt like that before?” you finally ask.

“Has what?” he furrows his eyebrows.

“Fighting… with another spider,” You clarify, “When we were in the clearing— When she was throwing the bombs. The way we moved, it felt so—”

“Instinctual,” He finishes, taking a step toward you. “No, it’s never felt that way. It’s like you knew what to do. Like you knew what I was thinking.”

“Yeah,” You shy away from his gaze. You suddenly feel the gravity of it all. While you were grateful for the benefits of the spider sense, something was wrong with you. With both of you. This wasn’t a normal spider-sense. Whatever this was, was like a brick through the window of your daily life. Something was triggered in you, and you couldn’t turn it off. Now you’ll probably never be normal again— not that you really were before.

Everything felt perfect before. The city finally accepted you, a new job you were proud of, and new friends just like you. People that could understand in a way no one else could. You’d found a balance and a new passion for being Spider-Woman. Now, for the first time in years, you cursed your abilities. You doubted yourself. An outsider again, even amongst your own kind.

“Hey.” Miguel’s voice brings you out of the spiral. He’s standing directly in front of you. When did he get so close? “You okay, little spider?”

The nickname makes your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, I—” You stop yourself from rambling, bringing your hand up to your cheek “This is kinda fucked up, isn’t it? You and me?”

He snorts a small laugh, “Yeah, kinda.”

“Whatta we supposed to do, Miguel?” you ask yourself, more than him. Even if his test showed something, then what? Just learn to live with it, you suppose.

“Business as usual,” He reiterates from the other day in his room. Why did business as usual feel so difficult then? You’re not even sure what that means around him. A silence stirs between you two again, but this time you feel something building. Your mind screams at you to touch him. To let him take control and ravish you. You squeeze your legs together, doing your best to hide it even though it’s no use. If you felt it, he felt it too.

“I should go.” He finally says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Sure,” you nod. Neither of you moves. You see the hunger behind his brilliant red eyes.

You hesitantly reach out, running a hand up his broad chest. You needed something— Just a little of him. His breath hitches at the contact but he doesn’t shy away. His suit’s technology ripples in the wake of your touch, illuminating and fading away to show the rich, tan skin underneath— before phasing back in an instant. He grabs your wrist, halting your movement at his stomach. You can feel his heart rate rising under your touch.

He pulls you in, lips crashing in a frenzy of movement. You throw your arms over his shoulders as he pins you against the kitchen counter. His arms cage you in as his massive body overwhelms you.

Every move you make is feverish and desperate, begging for more of him. His tongue selfishly delves into your mouth and you moan at the taste of him. The sensation sends your head reeling. He bites at your lower lip before ghosting down to your neck. He was hungry— so were you.

Your head is spinning. All your pain and exhaustion now completely forgotten and replaced with pure, unbridled lust. The connection screams in gratitude, finally getting what it wanted.

“Miguel,” You sigh into his hair, as he leaves a trail of hickeys down your shoulder.

“I know,” He moans without halting his work, “ Lo sé. Yo también lo siento. ”

His bare hand snakes up your leg and hitches around the hem of your t-shirt. He pauses when he feels nothing else there.

“How scandalous.” He smiles against your skin, running his calloused hand across your bare hips. You shiver in response, suddenly unable to articulate language. He cradles your head with his other hand as he buries his nose in your hair, “Oh god, you smell so—you’re so—”

He runs his open hand over your bare cunt. You gasp and arch into him, rolling your hips over his fingers. Greedily rocking back and forth against his rough hand, you coat his fingers with your growing arousal. He moves his hand gingerly as you do so. He gently runs his middle finger along your seam before thrusting it inside.

You swing your head back with a moan, clawing at his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to devour your neck again while working his hand in and out of you. You’re at his complete mercy. Whatever he wanted from you, he could have— you’d happily give it.

His mass threatens to topple you over the counter. You hook your leg around his hips, opening yourself to him more. You feel his entire body vibrate with a moan as his lips proceed to explore every single inch of you that they can. His thumb comes up to work against your clit and it sends you to a new level.

“P-please!” You gasp. You’re not entirely sure why you say it.

He pauses all of his movements, glowing red eyes meeting yours, “Please what?” it’s more of a demand than a question.

Tell me what you want.

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with your mouth, “Please fuck me.”

Then you see a shift in him. Like his eyes glaze over and somehow become more animalistic. It sets all of your hair on end and a new wave of arousal washing over your senses.

His voice drops an octave, “Where’s—”

“Upstairs.” you barely pant out, glancing up at your bedroom just above you. He follows your eyes, quickly taking the hint.

“Okay, little spider. Okay,” he ever so slowly draws his fingers out from your slick heat. You whimper at the sensation. His hands trace over your soft thighs before hooking under them. He lifts you like nothing at all and your lips come crashing back to his. You entangle your limbs around him as he walks you both out of the kitchen and to the open living room. He doesn’t go towards the stairs though, instead walking to the opposite wall. Before you can correct him, his hands are off you— talons digging into your living room wall.

He scales the bricks as you cling to him, not stopping your hungry kissing for a single beat. His powerful limbs move under you with brute force but his torso still holds steady for you to carry yourself on. A small reminder of just how strong he was.

He hoists you both over the railing of your loft and carries you to the bed, dropping you into the messy, unmade sheets. His hand comes to the collar of your shirt, ripping it down the middle. You shrug off the shreds and briefly wonder if you’ll ever be able to do this without ruining any clothes.

He takes a moment to drink in your naked form, eyes slowly traveling down the curves of your body. You squirm under his gaze— Your breasts heaving up and down in anticipation.

“Miguel,” you reach out to him.

Come here. Please.

His head twitches, eyes darting back to your face. His small trance broken, he smiles down at you. The edges of his suit start to fade away in a pale blue glow until there’s nothing left but a pair of black boxer briefs, his form silhouetted by the streetlights from the window. He hastily removes the underwear, freeing his throbbing hard cock. You drink him in, in all his glory.

He trails his massive hands back up your thighs and over your torso as he crawls on top of you. His hands are scorching and rough. He pauses at your breasts, running his thumbs over each pebbled nipple.

He takes one into his mouth, kneading the other roughly. You squirm under him, gasping at the contact. His cock twitches against your stomach. He seems to revel in it— watching you fall apart by his hand. You can’t say mind much either.

“Miguel, please,” You beg, pulling at his hair. He lazily comes off your breast, lulling his tongue over your nipple before rising completely.

“So impatient , ” he murmurs. He brings his hand down and runs his fingers through your wet folds, slowly gathering your arousal. He sits back, towering over you. He strokes his massive length, covering himself with you. His gaze burns into you as he puts on the show— small gasps escaping him with every stroke.

Look at what you do to me.

He crawls down your body. You bring your legs up from under him and hook them around his waist. He reaches down and guides his cock to your entrance. The blunt tip presses dauntingly against you and then you, only for a moment, worry you can’t take him— Then he rolls his hips forward. Your face contorts into a blissful silent scream as he begins stretching you to your limits.

“Oh god,” He moans as he slowly takes you inch by inch. He rolls his hips lightly before burying himself to the hilt. You’re legs are already quivering around him. “Relax for me.” He whispers into your ear.

He starts the pace slow, drawing out almost completely before rolling back in. Each dauntingly slow stroke of his cock was a wave of sensory overload. He had you stretched to near painful limits but with each steady thrust, it melted into pure pleasure, your body relaxing around him.

A little faster now, you start to roll your hips with him. Once your rhythm is set, he brings his starved mouth back down to yours. You moan into him, feeling it reverberate in both your chests. You consume each other greedily.

Your sense is singing in absolute ecstasy.

It’s never felt this way before. You’d had a meager handful of lovers in your life, often leaving you wanting and disappointed— But this? This was something entirely different. Something so deep-rooted and primal. It scared you. It excited you.

“ He pensado en esto durante tanto tiempo.” He murmurs into you, “ Te sientes asombrosa.”

You absolutely do not have the brain capacity to even attempt to understand him right now. Still, the way he so lovingly says it makes your heart swell.

“You sound like sin,” He grunts against your neck, “It’s fucking beautiful. Eres hermosa, mi arañita. ”

Your growing arousal makes you more vocal with each movement— the coil in your belly already tightening more and more. Your sinful screams bounce off the walls of your apartment and back to you.

He’s leaving a growing trail of marks across your shoulders, evidence that he’s been there. You can’t say that you disapprove of the reminder. He’s so vigorous in all of his movements with you, it was getting close to overwhelming.

You’d thought of this— you’d dreamed about it for months now and he was incomparable to whatever you could have possibly imagined. Not just because his dick was proving to be something out of this world— well, you suppose it was— but because it was just him. His smell, his sound, his taste— he overwhelmed your every sense as he made love to you.

He hits something new and deep inside you, and you jump under him. He takes notice. Of course, he does. He devastatingly slams his hips forward into the same spot again. Electricity surges through you.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You like that?” He chuckles, thrusting into the same hypersensitive spot over and over. A few more thrust and it was your undoing.

You can’t even warn him before it hits you like a freight train.

You claw down his back as your orgasm overtakes you. Limbs numbing and mind blacking out to nothingness for brief seconds, it was almost too much. Quivering beneath him, he works you through it. Each thrust extends your blinding pleasure just slightly longer before it subsides into maddening overstimulation.

“Good Girl,” He moans against your ear, “S-so, fucking tight. So good.”

He doesn’t slow his pace, continuing to fuck you through your prolonged high. He takes full advantage of it. You gasp for any air you can, every nerve in your body threatening to burn up in the euphoria.

“One more,” he grunts, “I know you have one more for me.”

He nuzzles into your neck, teeth bearing down on the soft flesh there. The pearl gleam of his fangs flashes in your mind, and you know you should be afraid— but you're not. The idea of him drawing blood is strangely pleasing. His tongue licks up along the reddened mark his teeth have left there.

Then he shifts you— untangling your legs from him and pulling your hips up off the bed. You plant your feet as he holds your shaky hips. He rises and starts to thrust down into you, bringing his fingers to your clit, and rubbing small circles over your already fried nerves. God, he looked fucking magnificent towering above you— His face pure lust. Eye’s lidded and glossy, sweat pecking at his brow.

You grasp at the sheets, trying to find any sense of stability. Another wave is washing over you, “M-Miguel. Miguel, I’m gonna—”

It rips through you quicker than your first, but no less powerful. Your voice catches in your throat as you gasp for air, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“That’s it. That’s it,” he chants as crawls back over you, pulling you closer, “Fuck, you feel so good when you—”

His steady pace becomes sporadic as he chases his own relief. You feel his hips start to quake and his eyes go completely red.

“W-where?” he gasps.

“God— inside!” you scream impatiently. You can inform him of your birth control after, though he seems to take the hint.

He cums with a string of grunts uttered into the sheets next to your head, hips shuttering still as he pushes as deep inside you as you can. You feel him throbbing against your walls as he fills you. Every muscle in his body is quivering and tense and then… he relaxes completely. You hold him close, arms and legs wrapping around him. You bury your nose in the nape of his neck, memorizing his musky scent.

You both stay there for what felt like hours, in unmoving silence. Breathing each other’s heavy air, clinging to the other’s body. Truth be told, it was probably less than a minute, but it stretched on for eternity.

He’s the first to move, rising up to rest his sweaty forehead against yours, “Holy shit.”

How romantic. But that pretty much summed up your feelings too.

“Holy shit.” you chuckle lightly in agreement. You notice while coming down from your sexual high your spider sense has also been tamed into silence yet again. That was to be expected but there was something else this time. A new level of satisfaction. You can’t help but wonder what it’s like on his end, “What’s it feel like... For you?”

“It’s…Peaceful. Satiated and content.” he says, rolling onto his side. Your breath hitches at the loss of him. “It felt satisfied before when we… but now…”

“It’s different.” You finish his line of thought. It was vague and incredibly obvious, but how else could you possibly describe a sensation you’d never felt before? Yeah, it was different, but how? You just simply didn’t have the words— not yet.

It was everything and nothing you’d ever known before. He made you feel that way.

“Will you stay?” you find yourself saying before you can stop yourself. He’s obviously taken aback.

“I don’t—”

“Just- just for a little while.” You quickly try to backtrack a little. It feels needy and clingy but you feel like if he left you’d be lying awake for hours with your spider sense screaming at you. Just hold you for a little while? Is that so much to ask? You’re worried you just massively overstepped a boundary… but then his expression softens into a faint smile.

“Sure, little spider. For a little while.”

_____________________________________

Lo sé. Yo también lo siento- I know. I feel it too He pensado en esto durante tanto tiempo- I’ve thought about this for so long Te sientes asombrosa.- You feel amazing Eres hermosa, mi arañita- You’re beautiful, my little spider

For the love of god, please let me know if any of this is wrong.

Fury the Goblin Queen is a character from the Mayday Parker Spider-Girl comics! They were my favorites growing up and I thought Fury was cool as shit. She surfs on a fucking rocket, like come on. Too bad she was raised in a cult though.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse

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thydungeongal · 7 months

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D&D is actually pretty good

Unless you're trying to do something that it actually sucks at

This is part 3 of my big post about why D&D, structurally, works for a very specific type of gameplay and actually resists other types of gameplay. As I have pointed out in previous parts, none of this is to say that D&D is a bad game, but that it's a very bad fit for gameplay outside of its specific niche and might not produce meaningful or desirable gameplay when twisted into other types of narratives.

In the first part I discussed the terminology that I'm using, namely the two different playstyles of Challenge Mode and Story Mode, and in the second part I talked about what it is about D&D's structure that makes it a good fit for Challenge Mode. In brief, D&D has many parts that allow for meaningful gameplay to emerge simply from developing system mastery, allowing players to make meaningful assessments of risk and reward. You can find the previous posts here:

Part 1: Terminologie

Part 2: What is it that D&D actually do?

This third part will be covering what it is about D&D's mechanics and structure that make it not great for Story Mode gameplay. Once again I will be tagging this as #the big damn post for easier finding.

Part 3: Mismatched Expectations

D&D is fun as a game. It has a very clear gameplay loop of going into a place where there is danger, overcoming that danger, being rewarded with better abilities, and thus being able to overcome greater dangers, rinse and repeat. That gameplay loop can be in and of itself fun and rewarding.

Problems arise when that gameplay loop is placed on top of an extended narrative with greater stakes. D&D's rules are a great fit for narratives about some fellas going into a dangerous place and engaging with that danger for the sake of reward. It is very good when placed in the hands of players for whom the gameplay loop itself is its own reward and who are thus willing to engage with the gameplay on its own terms.

But okay, what is it specifically about D&D's rules that clashes against Story Mode gameplay?

Firstly, resource management and the adventuring day does not model rising action very well. Rising action refers to the rising narrative tension leading up to a climax when the tension is finally resolved. In a way the D&D adventuring day (which can be variable in length depending on edition but let's be fair even though 5e claims it's supposed to be 6 to 8 encounters long it doesn't actually work out like that in actual play lmao) represents rising action: tension rises throughout the adventuring day as player characters have their resources taxed, and thus the gameplay becomes more risky. However, this rarely leads to a satisfying climax because players will either choose to rest and recover their resources. DM's can of course always arrange for a narrative contrivance to take away the players' ability to rest, but more often than not this won't actually achieve the desired result. It will result in greater tension, yes, but it comes with its own dangers.

But by default, the game expects players to be able to make the meaningful decision to rest and recover their resources, although this often comes with its own opportunity costs as well as the risks inherent in either resting in a dungeon or returning to home base to recover. By default players have access to a method of resolving rising action themselves. This is intentional, which is why I refer to denying players access to this as a contrivance.

As said, the DM can arbitrarily deny access to recovery to amp up the tension until the last encounter of the adventuring day, a type of "boss fight" if you will. Here once again D&D's structure butts heads with the desires of the narrative: while a boss fight that resolves the tension can be narratively satisfying, it is a very risky proposition for a group that has been denied access to rest and recovery. This easily risks a total party kill due to the inherent swinginess of D&D's resolution, which can jeopardize the story.

The easy solution to making sure the players have a chance of surviving the boss fight at the end of a long adventuring day as a means of resolving tension is to make the boss fight easier than the previous fights. Which runs counter to the demands of the narrative. The boss fight should be more of a challenge, not less of a challenge than the guards posted outside of their chambers.

This is where we see D&D's challenge game, soft sim nature butt heads with story structure: D&D has an inbuilt story structure of players being able to take on challenges on their own terms, taxing their own resources, the tension rising naturally due to their resources being taxed, and with players having access to the pressure release in the form of choosing to rest and recover.

You may have noticed that all of my examples thus far assume that the ultimate cost of failure is death. Now, while D&D does have the tools for representing consequences other than death, all of the meaningful consequences amount to the loss of resources that relate to Challenge Mode. D&D does not quantify the emotional impact of the loss of their loved ones, nor the sting of being rejected by the one you love, but it does model the loss of spell slots and hit points and torches throughout the adventuring day. Taxing resources like hit points is the most meaningful way the game provides for modeling defeat, so players will be losing them, bringing them closer to 0 hit points and thus risking death.

I say risking death because while 4e and 5e allow for the blow that sends you to 0 hit points to be a nonlethal one and thus only render you unconscious (but in 5e it is only allowed for melee attacks), the default assumption is that a blow that takes you to zero hit points is potentially a lethal one. Enemies may have their reasons for not immediately killing characters that fall unconscious, but they would have very little reason to stabilize characters that are already dying. Outside of narrative editing, character death is always a real possibility in D&D.

Now, death being a consequence isn't in and of itself a bad thing. It's a great way to add tension. But the way D&D models death, as the default consequence for accidentally going into a fight you weren't expecting to be that tough while not at your full resources, produces narratives that most people playing in Story Mode generally don't want. And that's also why arbitrarily denying players access to their resources also produces an extra risk of death and is, like, actually pretty Bad and Not Good.

D&D's model of death always being on the table runs counter to the expectations of Story Mode. Deaths can happen even in the most incidental encounter, which can be frustrating. However, beyond a certain point in D&D death simply becomes a temporary obstacle. As long as the group has a character who can cast Raise Dead and enough gold (and in most editions of D&D characters have less to spend money on than they have money available) players have a rules-mediated way of removing death. Thus, the only meaningful consequence for failure in the game is robbed of narrative weight.

The only option is the dreaded total party kill, which is not desirable because it completely breaks narrative continuity. Outside of narrative editing it forces the group to create a whole new cast of characters, thus breaking whatever personal continuity the story thus far had.

To reiterate: D&D doesn't model meaningful consequences for failure beyond losing combat, because it is a combat-centric game. Losing in combat is often lethal and there are no guardrails to protect characters from meaningless death in a low stakes fight. The DM can not effectively build tension with multiple combats that then gets resolved in a climactic fight without risking a total party kill and the loss of narrative continuity. This leads to a story structure where the party has to keep on winning in order for the narrative to continue.

And that is supremely narratively satisfying. If players can't ever meaningfully fail (because the only meaningful rules-mediated consequence of failure is death) then every twist in the narrative has to be extrinsic to the player characters. This risks giving off the impression that the player characters are hypercompetent and the world around them is constantly getting into trouble that only the player characters can fix. Which can often feel contrived.

None of this is to say that satisfying narratives can't emerge out of D&D gameplay, but those narratives will emerge almost incidentally, without actual help from the game itself. For every story of the rules coming to save the day by sheer providence you will hear another story of accidental TPKs that ended up bringing the campaign crashing down or a group ignoring the rules themselves or fudging the results for the sake of a satisfying narrative. Which, again, goes to show that the rules themselves resist satisfying narratives, because if the rules themselves produced the types of narratives the group desires they wouldn't need to ignore the rules, right?

Anyway, that's it for now. The next and final part will discuss what can be done to resolve these issues. Warning: my advice mostly boils down to "accept that D&D is a challenge game and play it to its strengths" or "play another game that better supports your desired narrative structures," but like idk you can also house rule D&D all the way to hell if you like, I'm not your boss.

#long post #the big damn post

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kindestofkings · 6 months

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in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

ryan mcmahon x reader

authors note: this is so sweet and fluffy you'll probs need to visit the dentist, but its for all you ryan girlies out there xx

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ryanmcmahon_15 the love of my life, my wife <3

inhalerfan1 literally the most beautiful wedding ever!

inhalerfan2 awhhhh congrats!

yourmam such a beautiful day celebrating you two!! my favourites xx

inhalerdublin our parents 💗💗💗

(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)

--finito--

lol dont even know where that marriage came from Im still undecided if i believe in the concept, but its cute lol!

hope you enjoyed <3

#inhaler band #inhaler dublin #ryan mcmahon #ryan mcmahon imagine #ryan mcmahon x reader #ryan mcmahon fanfic

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analexthatexists · 26 days

Text

IT'S-A SPOOKY MONTH SPECULATION TIME GUYS!!!

Okay, so after Episode 6, I was like "Wow, they sure want us to remember what happens in past episodes, this one was full of callbacks and other things", and uh...

I'm really hoping this is just a silly reference to some oher media, because if it isn't, then OHHHH BOY THESE KIDS ARE IN TROUBLE.

HEADS UP FOR MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR, WELL, PRETTY MUCH THE ENTIRE SERIES SO FAR (EPISODES 1-6)

Also, I'm noticing that ever since like, Episode 3, this spider and that mannequin have just been chilling in the attic. Interested to see their involvement in the next episode, which I assume is what's being built up to...

Side Note: In Episode 1, you can see the mannequin move to the right a bit, I suppose hinting to the spider? I also believe in Episode 3 after Bob knocks down the mannequin, the spider's the one that puts it back up.

Might I also mention that most side-appearing characters (Or in the previous case, items or even creatures/animals) usually end up coming back in later episodes or having some importance, good examples being Father Gregor and Ignacio. So, what about the Happy Fella dude?

Come to think of it...

What about people like Frank? I mean, he's got a similar role as Kevin (and now Radford) as a side character who has a simple, singular appearance, but it's clear from Kevin and other characters that people like him can always return with more importance than they usually seem to have. This ALSO applies to:

The "Hobomen" who already seem to be getting importance due to The Mayor asking them to destroy a building,

Rick. Just...Because he's Rick.

I mean, if Radford ended up joining Kevin on his wacky adventures, then who knows what Rick could end up getting into?

This poor child who keeps getting fricked over by literally everyone and everything around him,

Even this actor guy who APPARENTLY WAS IN EPISODE 1!? WHAT!? I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT UNTIL LOOKING BACK, WHAT THE-

You see? It's stuff like this that makes me feel like these characters can always return without you even realizing! And that's just SO COOL to me!

...Side note, I uh...accidentally found something. You see that painting? YEAH, UHH....

HUH!? HOW!? I- THEY- SR PELO WHAT THE HELL MAN

I GO LOOKING FOR ONE THING AND I END UP FINDING SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY. WOW, THEY PLANNED ALL OF THIS OUT DIDN'T THEY!?

...Right...Moving on...

I'm just now realizing this, but the eyes in that bucket aren't Dexter's (mistook them for his because they have the same pupils), it's the Happy Fella that uh...Y'know... Went splat.

Also, it seems like, if it's not a one-off joke or gag, that ghosts and undead monsters do in fact exist, and well, we've seen a certain demon friend of ours come back from the dead... (Multiple times)

Also, the Happy Fella had to be cooked TWICE, and even after THAT, its eyes still move, soooooo....

So who knows? Maybe one of our deceased friends will come back from the dead! Perhaps Dexter and/or his grandma? Who knows?

Finally, I want to point out Pump's eyes. After encountering The Eyes, Pump's pupils seem to change cyan ALMOST everytime he and Skid encounter a demonic entity, exceptions being Bob and the Happy Fella. Most of the time, his eyes change when around Moloch, and this might actually be exclusive to Moloch. I'm not exactly sure...

Both Father Gregor and Bob have these eyes as well! Bob gets them after seemingly returning from the dead when shot in the chest, and Gregor gets them after his encounter with The Eyes, similar to Pump. I suppose this is supposed to show their connections to The Eyes and other demonic entities? So...Why didn't Pump's eyes glow AT ALL when around Bob? Even when HIS eyes turned blue? Why does Moloch trigger Pump's eyes to change but other entities don't?

I don't know! I'm just pointing it out, really. I ran out of speculation juice a WHILE ago, and I just wanted to point out these little details. Sorry!

#spooky month #sr pelo spooky month #spooky month 5 #spooky month 6 #sm pump #sm skid #sm bob velseb #sm father gregor #sm dexter #sm moloch #sm frank

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uchihaharlot · 1 month

Note

if you're taking requests, could i politely beg you for some Sasuke head *ahem* canons please 😫🥵😮‍💨 sfw or nsfw totally up to you... the way you write these Uchiha fellas is just damn perfect!! 🫶🏻 💐 💗

Nonny!!! You are officially my very first Sasuke-kun request!! I can't believe the day has finally arrived!!! Let's dissect this man to the fullest capacity, shall we?

Politely beg all you want, Sasuke couldn't care less. In fact, you'll get more out of him if you bitch a little. Not much, but enough (lol you clever slut, my gentle mind just got what you meant by 'Sasuke head *ahem* canons).

I also appreciate your praise!! I'm am merely just a vessel, spreading Lord Indra's will. Every single one of these fine ass men deserved better!!!

N/SFW; Sasuke-kun, please come back; bit of a weird AU here; just go with it

Sasuke, as we all know. Was the shadow throughout most of his childhood in the eyes of his father. His older brother took first place in many aspects of his traumatic life. I secretly feel like he wouldn't have liked being the favorite anyways.

He's so emotionally stunted, it's rather sad and embarrassing to him. Aside from the mostly 'brotherly' affection Itachi gave him and friendships of the few around him. Sasuke doesn't take kindly to your admission of want. Or belligerent desire as he calls it.

He doesn't really accept that he's taken an unavoidable liking to you either very well. Pity, really. Ask just about any Uchiha, catching feelings is like having the world's worst cold. So, Sasuke avoids you like the damn plague, but you're secretly on his mind. Which still pisses him off.

Gets so damn jealous if any other Uchiha talks to you. He knows how his family is. Especially his fucking cousin, Shisui. Despite his best efforts, Sasuke will never live this down. The moment you met, he knew you were his. Case in point. (Plus, Shisui only got your attention to prove a point to Sasuke, that his little cousin does want you.)

Dates, are not his style, but goes out of his comfort zone to hopefully garner your affections. The more he thinks of you, the harder it becomes to ignore these whims and feelings. That and your first 'date' wasn't entirely romantic or appropriate. Having his, 'emotional support fox' follow you from a distance was off putting. And creepy.

So here you are, Sasuke standing outside your door. Not capable of coping that his body is acting of its own volition. He's so on and off with his emotions. Can't decide if he is coming or going.

But in all honesty, he's very partial to coming in your mouth. Holy gods, yea. Doesn't even remember how it all led up to your gorgeous lips around the base of this cock as his hot seed slips down the back of your throat. Sasuke was so damn at war with himself that his body was on autopilot making all the decisions.

Could he really complain? Yea, probably. Though he doesn't, seeing you pop off his cock slow and cute as his cum drips a little down your bottom lip is more than enough to acquiesce his bitter mood. Cures it basically.

Makes it all the easier for him to just give in and push you flat onto the couch. A little more rough than intended, but you moan and writhe all the same. Even more so as the warmth of his mouth and tongue lavish you in a particularly primal way. Makes you question his virginal status, but not wanting to ruin the flow and your orgasm on his face. You leave it unsaid. The Uchiha are renowned geniuses, and the rinnegan really is the best at its craft. Ten times more powerful than the sharingan, its a no brainer that he holds all that raw power in the blink of an eye. Which was wielded to make you cum twice over again.

Heavy petting and lip service is what you get for the time being, I don't want top break your heart, but Sasuke is still heavily guarded...until the next time perhaps.

#sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #sasuke headcanons #sasuke #uchiha clan #uchiha headcanons #naruto #sasuke smut

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mspandorasart · 4 months

Text

Thoughts about Undertale Yellow

Greetings, I just returned from binging through Undertale Yellow, True Pacifist Route specifically, and am seeking a place to let out some thoughts (and steam). It's the first time I'm doing this type of "review" on my blog, but since my thoughts on it are quite strong, I thought, "hey, why the heck not"? Spoilers for the game and its ending ahead, fellas. Buckle up.

First off, let me begin by stating that, for the most part, I had a blast playing through it. The music is amazing, the boss themes real bangers, the environmental ones great as well. My favorite track was the OST that played in the Dunes: a really catchy western vibe with Flowey's theme in it as well, an earworm that filled me with Determination while running through the sandy fields. Then we have a beautiful pixel art style, gorgeous sceneries, great gameplay with challenging and fun boss fights (side note: although I couldn't fully appreciate Ceroba's fight since it had a couple pretty much unavoidable attacks. Or is it just skill issue on my part? Anyway, that part annoyed me more than it should have. Moving on, lmao.)

Furthermore, the game also has charming characters! They are the ones that kept me going and really ignited my interest. Not gonna lie, it took me until the town in the Dunes to become really invested in the game. Martlet is charming and cute, sure, but North Star and his gang, no, that guy specifically sold it for me. Charismatic, funny, very expressive sprites (well, all facial sprites are quite colorful, but it took me until North Star to appreciate/notice just how many there are for each character) and an interesting internal conflict with wanting to entertain others so they forget about the pain of being stuck underground, but at the same time being so absorbed in his persona that he temporarily acts like a douche towards his pals and forgets who he truly is. He also features my favorite joke in the game when he proudly proposes to the salesman that "he wants to buy a gun for the child". Freaking hilarious, love him, huehehue.

Story-wise, I was pleasantly surprised and taken aback by the dark twists of Ceroba and her husband Chujin. And I appreciated how the flashbacks got intigrated within her final boss fight. I don't know about you, but my biggest motivation to play RPGs are not just the gameplay, it's mainly the characters and the story. If the gameplay is amazing but the characters/plot boring, then I lose interest quickly. To me, the real rewards of a tough battle are story progression and seeing just what the characters will do next. Therefore, I greatly enjoyed the breaks between Ceroba's phases in which we saw parts of her backstory. They even made me cry!

...Although, to be honest, I don't exactly understand why we had that insight into her mind in the first place. Why did we survive so many hits to the point of 0.00001 HP? Where's that coming from all of a sudden? Why did time stop at some point like Za Warudo? Maybe that random plot armor (that happened the first time and never again) is explained in another route, but anyway, moving on-

This review-style blog entry only exists because of the True Pacifist ending. I'll be blunt, I hate it. Why?

So it ends with Clover sacrificing their soul for the monsters so they can eventually break free. Which is fine on its own. Clover is for the most part a blank slate of a character, only driven by their desire to seek the lost humans, that's basically it. Maybe it would have made a bit more sense for Clover to see an actual physical proof of their demise before they give up on them completely, but eh. I'm also wondering whether they are really okay with potentially another, possibly innocent human falling down sometime in the future only to get killed by the monsters. But oh well.

(You know, now that I think about it, I actually am a bit salty about Clover's decision to sacrifice themselves, lmao. Would've been kinda cool if it was up to the player, have another ending split.)

Anyways, the issue I'm having is how our cast of supporting characters, Martlet, North Star aka Starlo and Ceroba react to Clover's decision. They are shocked first, but... agree surprisingly quickly?? What?? Excuse me, the entire hassle we went through to get to this point was to stop Ceroba from taking Clover's soul. Now with Clover volunteering to sacrifice themselves, the gang is cool with it??

Of course they don't agree immediately, but are easily swayed within a few arguments back and forth. Man, what friends you are, guys. The reason I'm having this pet peeve in the first place is because we as the human, who has known these guys for just a day, did a lot for them, alright? They all tried to kill us at one point, but we took the beating, the hard battles, forgave them and were there for them during their internal conflicts. We were a pretty decent friend, if I may say so.

Especially with Ceroba! We did a lot to change her mind and path of self-destruction! Yet our so-called friends don't put in the same amount of effort when it comes to convincing us otherwise- or heck, use force if you must- get Clover away from there, lmao. Wouldn't it have been an interesting act of redemption on Ceroba's part, by the way, if she tried to stop us? Being touched by our mercy and refusal to give up on her, she does the same for us?

I suppose the reason I am so baffled by all this is because of Clover being a blank slate, the player character really felt like me, like I was going through the journey and not like I was controlling another character. It felt like my decision to spare them all, to talk to them and wanting to get to know them better. So the group of characters I have really grown to like giving up on me within about a minute of back-and-forth just felt... wow. Thanks, guys.

If I compare it to Undertale's True Pacifist in which every important supporting character gathers up after the confrontation with Asgore, all agreeing with the decision of me, the player, staying in the Underground with them, then oh boy, it really stings. Just would've been a cool, wholesome sign of friendship if Martlet, Starlo and Ceroba decided that "nah, even for the surface, we won't give up on Clover". By the way, in this game, we don't even really get to see why the monsters want to return to the surface so badly. They keep saying they want to, but what are the reasons exactly? More freedom, I suppose. Yet by expanding the Underground with the Dunes, the Mines, the Factory, and some of Snowdin, the Ruins and New Home, their habitat seemed so much larger than in the OG game- What I wanna say is, their desperation should've been shown way more instead of told, so the player can understand the monsters' aspiration better.

The thing is, it's a shockingly easy issue to fix if you really want "the canon ending" with Clover ending up dead and their soul taken: have Clover still have their moment of doubt and realization, remembering what the monsters told them throughout their journey. Then they go to Asgore with their gang, hoping to convince him. It doesn't work out, so Asgore starts a fight. During the battle, Clover realizes it's useless to fight back, it's better to have their soul taken for the monsters, so they allow Asgore to kill them. Their friends are not powerful enough to stop him. There ya have it.

Siiiiigh. Is it just me, being annoyed by that ending? As a whole, the finale felt a little... rushed? Was New Home always meant to be so empty? Is it to build up atmosphere? Yet there were two silly NPCs in the first screen of New Home, making me assume that maybe, there was another plan originally? (If it has been stated in a devlog or any other comment by the creators, then I apologize, I haven't read those fully.)

Anyways, if I didn't care about the game, this rant wouldn't even exist in the first place. I was really invested in the game until the ending just left me... kinda sad, not gonna lie. It will take me a while to process it all.

If you got this far, then thanks for reading. Am I the only one feeling this miffed about the ending? I might go back and edit this post if I find out there are things to be corrected. Buuuut as of now, happy holidays!

#undertale #undertale yellow #undertale yellow spoilers #undertale fangame

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froggibus · 1 year

Text

Bullet Train - Cole Cassidy

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: though you've seen many weird things on the train, the man dressed as a cowboy has got to be the strangest

CW: first meet, gun violence, poor judgement, cassidy being dumb in 2 languages, talking to strangers

i wrote this after watching bullet train lol + now im tempted to do more cassidy. also this has been sitting in my drafts for a month saved for a rainy day and today is that day cause I am dying!!

————

It seemed like everyone on the train had at one point been staring at the man sitting in the aisle across from you. You couldn’t blame them—it was hard not to stare. He was dressed like a cowboy, afterall. As the night grew later, the stares started to die off until he was finally able to watch movies on his holopad in peace.

The door at the front of the cart opened with a hiss, the cowboy man flinching when it did. You could see the way his muscles immediately relaxed upon seeing the pretty lady with the food trolley step onto the platform. Most of the cart was fast asleep, with the exception of a businessman towards the back who was clicking away at a keyboard, an older woman flipping through a book and a figure in the front who was shrouded by the sweater he was wearing.

It took no time before the trolley was between you and the cowboy man, the lady asking if you wanted something in Japanese. You bought a bottle of iced tea and thanked her, returning to stare at the seatback in front of you and fiddle with the impossibly tight cap of the bottle.

You could hear her asking the man if he wanted something, and force yourself to suppress a laugh when you heard him respond in Japanese. His language skills weren’t horrible, but spoken through his Southern accent it came out as a jumbled mess. A smile forced its way onto your face.

The woman, upon hearing him speak, immediately switched to English. This time, you couldn’t help but giggle at the interaction. The man finished ordering practically half of the trolley and paid the woman. She flashed you a smile before making her way to the back of the cart.

“Guess she wasn’t a fan of my Japanese,” the cowboy said.

It took you a moment to realize he was addressing you, amber eyes taking you in. “You’re American,” you noted. “You’re a long way from home.

He shrugged, “I’m looking for an old friend.”

You didn’t really care that much, and turned back to trying to open the bottle cap of your drink.

“You wanna hand with that?”

You sighed, but handed him the bottle nonetheless. You were shocked to see a metal hand grab it from you before he effortlessly removed the cap and gave it back to you.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, pumpkin.” He reached an arm out to you, “Cassidy.”

“Y/n.”

He stretched his arms above his head, poncho slipping off his shoulders to reveal more of his physique, “so what brings you around here?”

You examined him, wondering how much you should tell him. Despite the cowboy getup, he didn’t look like a complete weirdo. In fact, he was super handsome. Chocolate brown hair tumbled down the back of his neck and framed his face perfectly. He had a chiseled jaw, covered in well-groomed facial hair that wrapped around his mouth. His eyes were what really caught your attention, though. They were filled with warmth, something you hadn’t seen a lot of in recent days.

“Just needed some time away,” you admitted.

“Fella did you wrong?”

“Something like that.” You change the subject, “so, this friend of yours—is he in Tokyo?”

He nodded, “Hanamura, I think.”

“You think?”

Cassidy sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “He doesn’t exactly know I’m coming,” he said, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.”

You could relate to that. It seemed so long since you had company, the memories blurring the longer it got. Based on the look in his eyes, he felt the same way.

You took a swig of your drink. “Were you guys close?”

“We were on a team. We spent a lot of time together.”

That doesn’t answer the question, you thought, but said nothing. Clearly he was still coming to terms with things himself, and you didn’t want to pry. There was a thump on the roof above, the cart rattling.

Cassidy’s eyes widened and he was on his feet in an instant, hand reaching into one of the leather pouches on the belt strapped around his waist. “Well, darling, it’s been a pleasure.”

You blinked a few times, too stunned at the sight of the revolver in his hand to say anything. He gave you a flirty tip of his hat, and charged to the front of the train car. As soon as the door opened in front of him, you could see two figures dressed in all black waiting for him.

You pounced to your feet, ready to warn him, but the door was already closed. He has a gun, he can handle himself, you tried to tell yourself. It didn’t work, and you found yourself racing to the front of the car and smashing your hand against the button to open the doors.

You stepped onto the luggage cart just to see two men sprawled out on the ground. They were still breathing, thank god. Still, there was no sight of Cassidy.

You heard ruckus from the next cart over and ducked inside. There was a group of people now, dressed the same as the other figures, and they had him surrounded. He seemed to be holding his own pretty good, knocking people out and tossing them like they weighed nothing. His back was wide open though, and just as you realized that, so did one of the other figures.

Before you even realized it, you were tackling them to the ground, snatching the knife out of their hand and slamming it into their nose. Blood gushed out of their nose and they instinctively went to cover it, leaving their jaw wide open. You remembered something you’d been told a long time ago, and struck the side of their jaw hard. They went limp.

Cassidy whirled around, eyes dancing with mischief, a smirk on his face, “thank you, darling.”

The other people laid around the traincar, in varying poses and states. Cassidy had taken care of all of them in the time it took you to take out one. It was clear you were dealing with someone a lot more powerful than you thought.

“Doesn’t really look like you need my help, to be honest.”

He shrugged, poncho slumping off of his shoulder to reveal a gash that was leaking blood down his chest. He quickly pulled it up, eyes meeting yours, “no need to worry, pumpkin.”

“Who are these people, anyway?”

“Let’s just say I have a bit of a reputation.”

You raise an eyebrow, “a bit?”

“You’re pretty good in a fight,” he changes the subject. “Where did you say you were going again?”

“I didn’t.”

He smirked, “then how would you like to join me? You seem to know the area, that could be useful.”

“Are there going to be more shadow ninjas attacking you?”

“Oh, darlin’,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and squeezed you closer to him, “you have no idea. So, do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

#cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader #cole cassidy x you #cassidy x reader #cassidy x you #overwatch #overwatch imagines #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 #ow2 #ow #bullet train #cowboy x reader #cowboy #cowboy x you

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murdersinthemaking · 1 year

Note

Oliver’s been avoiding Murdock.

Actually, perhaps there’s a hint of exaggeration there. He’s just currently not trying to actively seek him out. Why would he? The life of a killer isn’t an easy one, considering how much time he spends in his workshop. He’ll converse with him normally if they find themselves in the same room, but otherwise, he spends a surprising amount of time outside. Maybe he was keeping an eye on the garden they had started a few weeks ago and making sure none of the rats eat away at any of the flowers.

Or maybe he’s just waiting for the tightness in his chest to go away.

However, it’s dark outside, and he knows Murdock is most likely finishing up with… whatever it is he does down there. Oliver doesn’t have the heart to kill any more freakishly big rodents, so he’s been pushing back this insistent fella away from the patch of plants for quiet some time now, its squeaks growing louder the more frustrated that it gets.

— @lost-soul-in-time

Trying to accept the existence of something else in the world has been a gut wrenching sensation for days now. Barely keeping up the few conversations they’ve managed to have, the burning across his skin getting worse. Deciding to go through more kills than usual, working between the outside workshop and his long term ones in the basement. There’s barely a few hours of the day where there isn’t audible screaming, those hours reserved for a passed out Murdock to try and rest on the floor.

As he carves the last edge of the bone into its chemical shape, it’s been nearly a straight week of killing. Always covered in blood at some point, beginning to smell like the rot of a corpse. Trying to scrape away some of the blood stuck to his skin, Murdock sheds his work clothes almost entirely. Finally coming up for air, knife still in hand as he steps outside. “Hey..” he almost whispers, voice hoarse from screaming back at his victims.

#spirited #a stab at it #absolute torture

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scarletwritesshit · 2 months

Text

🍣 Kotone Shiomi x Shinjiro Aragaki 🍣 The Dreadful Secret of Shinjiro Aragaki

Shinjiro was in no rush to return to Iwatodai Dorm. Wandering the streets alone in the dead of night was something that he was, in fact, rather used to. With familiar sights all around him, Shinjiro felt strangely at home.

He pulled the worn leather watch out of his coat pocket, unable to see it in the darkness of the streets. Once he wandered beneath the light of a streetlamp, Shinjiro stood still for a moment to read the time.

10:58 pm.

As long as he gave himself some time to spare before the coming of the Dark Hour, he otherwise did not have to worry himself sick about the clock

Regardless, he had a nagging feeling that perhaps, he should attempt to return to the dorms sooner rather than later. Kotone was surely going to scour the streets to hunt him down, whether he liked it or not. He knew what that girl was capable of, and was confident that she could hold her own, but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if she sustained even the slightest of injuries. God forbid another accident were to happen, it would be the final shot to Shinjiro’s heart before he would truly be unable to live with himself any further.

The more he thought about this plausibility, the further into despair his thoughts sank, so Shinjiro picked up the pace to focus himself on returning to the dorm in a timely manner.

With his hands in his pockets and his body slouched over, one could easily mistake him for a cryptid out for blood, when in fact, that assumption could not be further from the truth. Shinjiro wanted to prevent the chance of any blood being spilt, should him or Kotone get too careless. He took a deep breath and attempted to keep himself calm as he walked back to the dorms, but it would be a lie if he claimed that the lingering anxiety was not eating away at his thoughts.

Abruptly, Shinjiro stopped in his tracks when he heard a weak mew coming from down one of the alleyways. He remained as silent as possible for a moment, making sure that he wasn’t losing his mind and hallucinating. He heard a practically identical mew once again from the same direction, turning to look down the alley in response. The sight he was greeted with was a small, frail kitten.

It didn’t look like a lost pet gone astray. The kitten was weary of Shinjiro’s presence, had no collar, and appeared roughed-up and rather malnourished. In its current condition, he couldn’t just leave this poor kitten to rot. Shinjiro didn’t have it in his heart to ignore it, as he too, once found his life reaching such low points.

He crouched down and gently reached out his hand, attempting to show it that he was of no threat. It completely refused to approach him, but was most likely too weak to bolt away out of fear.

"It’s okay, little fella. I ain’t gonna hurt you," Shinjiro said, as gently as his rather rough voice would permit him to.

The cat sniffed his hand, but still backed up, clearly weakened with fear. Careful as to not startle it, Shinjiro gently took out his watch once more, moving it around until the light reflected just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the time. It was only a few minutes after 11, so if he was fast enough, he could at least secure the cat a meal to last it through the night.

"Hang tight. I’ll be back as soon as I can," Shinjiro whispered to it.

The cat looked up at him with helpless, desperate eyes, as if it understood his words, and even wanted to believe him, but its circumstances caused it to feel otherwise. Shinjiro stood up, and looked back at the cat one more time before bolting back the way he came down the sidewalk. Hopefully, he would luck out and a street market would still be open at this hour. Any of the popular restaurants in the area would be either closed or packed to the brim with guests, so there was no use in resorting to one of those. Though Shinjiro found the cat rather close to Iwatodai Dorm, he did not believe that he would have enough time to wait in a restaurant and be able to safely feed the cat. Especially with having to explain his late arrival to the others, Shinjiro would rather die than let this secret of his slip.

After some running, Shinjiro came across a sushi stall that still had its lights on. He silently prayed that someone would still be working, and its purpose wasn’t to serve as flashy light pollution.

He was in luck. An old lady was still tending to the stall, though it appeared as if she was packing up for the night. Shinjiro couldn’t see any other options in the vicinity that would have a chance at being open, so he had to try his luck at this stall right here and now.

"Please say you’re open, lady," he said, running up and slamming his fist down on the table.

"Goodness, me. Someone is hungry, isn’t he? I’m sorry dear, but I already put my equipment away for the day-"

"I ain’t worried about all that! I just need some fish!"

"Raw fish? Who needs raw fish at this hour?"

"I do! Er...my...friend does."

"Your...friend needs raw fish?" she asked, confused.

"Yes...they’re quite hungry."

"By any chance, would this friend of yours happen to be a stray cat?"

Shinjiro was left speechless. Of course, it was a little obvious, considering how he was specifically demanding raw fish, not a quick fixture of sushi prepared this late at night. Still, he was hoping that perhaps, he wouldn’t have to resort to exposing himself. Not like the woman would have a reason to collect any “dirt” on him, nor would she know anyone who would be interested in Shinjiro, but putting his true intentions into words still felt agonizingly awkward.

"Why didn’t you just say so, dearie?" she said, opening up the freezer and pulling out a slice of raw tuna.

"I-I’ll give you as much yen as you want! Just please give me the damn fish."

"Oh please, don’t worry about it. It’s not often a young gentleman as kind and caring as you shows up around these parts," she said, sliding him the tuna on a plate.

Shinjiro looked at the woman in disbelief for a brief moment, until she nodded her head in assurance. Shinjiro really did not have this much time to debate her, so he grabbed the plate of tuna and took off running back towards where he found the cat. He looked back for a brief moment and waved in thanks, before picking up speed.

"Stay safe now, dear!" the woman shouted to him.

Much to his relief, Shinjiro stopped to see that the cat remained in the same location where he left it. It was still visibly nervous, but Shinjiro didn’t have all the time in the world to gently coax it out. By now, it was likely nearing midnight, and there was a distinct possibility that Kotone had departed to look for him by now.

Shit.

Just a few minutes was all he needed.

He crouched down and presented the cat with the plate of tuna. It looked at him, and crept forward as if it fully intended to charge straight into the paper plate, but it held back. It was hesitant, still, to approach Shinjiro, even with a generous offering of food.

Come on, dammit. I ran halfway across town for this.

The Dark Hour was soon approaching and the fear of being discovered by Kotone was quite real. He tried holding out his hand to further encourage the cat, and it felt like forever before it finally gave into the temptation to sniff the tuna and devour it. Shinjiro breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the cat had another shot at pulling through, even if it did roam solo on the streets. He wanted to take the cat back to the dorms with him and give it a second chance at a better life, though he knew that Koromaru would likely be rather displeased with the intruder.

Putting his thoughts aside for a brief moment, Shinjiro smiled, and as the cat chowed down, he once more slowly reached out his hand to pet it. He gently scratched behind its ears, careful to not overstep boundaries so soon, but the cat seemed to not mind him handling it as it happily ate away at Shinjiro’s generous offering. Maybe this cat wasn’t truly hostile or cowardly at heart, but rather, was being driven to the edge by hunger.

"There you are, Shinji!" a familiar voice shouted.

Uh oh.

Shinjiro froze, his hand still on the cat’s head. He knew all too well whose voice that was, and he was quickly becoming far too embarrassed to turn around.

"Making some friends without me?" Kotone asked as she ran up to him.

"I swear, it’s not what it looks like, dammit!" he said, forcing himself to turn to look at her.

"Hmm…looks to me like you’re feeding a stray cat."

That was indeed true. There was really no other way to put it.

"Listen...it was gonna die if I didn’t do anything, okay? Not gonna just give up an’ leave ‘em to rot."

"What about taking it back to the dorm with us?"

"Cant. Koro-chan wouldn’t exactly be very happy with me.”

Kotone thought for a moment as Shinjiro pulled out his pocket watch. 11:48, it read. The clock was ticking, and although the dorm wasn’t far away, Shinjiro stood up out of alarm.

"We have to get goin’," he said. "Don’t want to get caught out here alone during the Dark Hour."

"Or could it be that you don’t want me stuck out during the dark hour?" Kotone teased.

"Whatever you want to think," he said. looking off to the side. "We could make it back in a few minutes with time to spare, so we don’t gotta take off too fast."

"Thought you said we had to get going, unless you just wanted to squeeze in a little bit more time with the cat?”

Shinjiro looked down at his newfound cat friend, who had finished eating. It looked up at him with wide eyes, flicking its tail gently. If Kotone were not present, he would not hesitate to scoop the cat up in his arms and tuck it away in his coat.

He said nothing about his desires, though Kotone smiled at him. She walked over to pick the cat up, and Shinjiro held himself back from pushing her away out of fear that she would accidentally scare it off. It tensed up a little, but relaxed once Kotone sat down and allowed it to sniff her for a moment. Shinjiro was absolutely baffled at how quickly it warmed up to her

"Ha, it must’ve already smelled my scent on you," she noted.

That was indeed a plausibility, as Kotone was quite physically affectionate with him, to say the least.

"Maybe..." Shinjiro said.

Kotone held out her arms, inviting the cat to come closer. Much to Shinjiro’s surprise, it walked into her arms, allowing her to scoop it up. As soon as she got ahold of it, however, she shoved it into his chest. Instinctively, he gently held onto it, and Kotone looked at him with a triumphant smile.

"It already likes us, so why not take it home?" she said, not exactly giving Shinjiro much of a choice.

"But, Koro-chan..."

"He’ll be fine. He’s smart enough to fight shadows, so learning to leave a cat alone shouldn’t be an issue for him."

He looked down at the cat, and it looked up at him and weakly mewed.

"Guess I really don't have a choice now do I?"

"Nope," Kotone said, tugging on his sleeve, "now come on, you adorable thing, Iwatodai Dorm isn’t far from here!”

“That adorable thing was forcefully put into my arms, Kotone.”

“I wasn’t talking to the cat, Shinji,” she said with a smile.

It took Shinjiro a moment to fully process her words, but once he realized that she was referring to him, and not the cat, he shrunk his head into his coat as much as possible in order to hide the embarrassment that was all over his face. With eyes adapted to the darkness of Tartarus, however, no amount of blush was safe from Kotone’s watchful eyes, daylight or Dark Hour. Convenient for her, not so much for Shinjiro.

Left without a retribution for the woman his heart was so weak to, Shinjiro, couldn’t really protest her now, especially if he did still intend to make it back in a timely manner. He held the cat close to him as if it were his own child as Kotone lead them back to the dorm, with mere moments to spare before the dreaded hour struck.

#persona 3 #p3 #kotone shiomi #persona 3 femc #shinjiro aragaki #shinjiham #foolmoon #despite kotone not being in reload it only made my craving for shinjiham content even more intense

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