#not the correct quotes but it’s close enough to what happened
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Chip and Jay are peak siblings “I tackle him out of the way!” “Yeah so then I just body check her”
#jrwi#jrwi thoughts#Jay ferin#jrwi chip#jrwi spoilers#god I missed them#not the correct quotes but it’s close enough to what happened#riptide
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pretty pretty please 🩶
imagine ghost is forced to speak at a school’s career fair because he’s out on medical, and reader gets sent with him to chaperone. (i.e. make sure he doesn’t scare any kids to 💀. and also maybe to feed him some slightly manipulative praises so he stays in a good mood lmao)
———————————————————————
You’re both standing in the principal’s office. The school was kind enough to offer you a private room since kids are a little rowdy today, and Ghost isn’t very fond of tiny hands tagging at his uniform and asking him “how many people he has killed”.
You’re holding two balaclavas; one is black, while the other is a deep shade of army green.
“It’s either this one or that one.” You say while raising both to his eye level.
He pushes your hands down and points to his skull mask. “No.” He states. “I’ll stick with the one I’m wearing.”
You frustratedly shake the balaclavas to your sides. “Come on, Lieutenant,” you plead, “you’ll scare the kids.”
“Have you seen kids these days?” he asks, raising his hands. “These fuckers are not afraid of anything!”
“Oh god,” You wince and toss the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. You shake your index finger at his face like a teacher disciplining a misbehaving student. “Don’t you dare to swear in front of them!”
“Have you heard, kids—”
“—these days.” You cut him off with a flick of the wrist. “Yes, but there’s no need to reinforce bad behaviour.”
He lets out a long exhale and places his hands on his waist. He begins pacing around the principal’s office, swearing under his breath. You’re trying to figure out whether he needs to let it all out before his big speech or if he’s cursing the moment he has agreed to do this.
He pauses in front of a painting hanging next to a window overlooking the school’s playground. He slouches and places one hand on his lower back, rubbing his injury.
You approach him from behind and gently grasp his forearm.
“Hey,” you whisper, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replies sternly. “Never mind.”
“Are you in pain? Please talk to me.”
“I’m not in pain!” He protests. “In fact, I wasn’t in pain to begin with, when the medics decided that I was,” he makes air quotes with his fingers, “temporarily unfit for duty.”
You place a palm on his lower back and begin rubbing it. He relaxes at your touch and puts one hand on the wall to support his weight.
“You talk about not reinforcing bad behaviour,” he murmurs, “but I’m not the best role model either.”
“Bullshit!” You scowl.
“Seriously,” he insists, “I highly doubt I’d be here talking to kids about their future if I hadn’t been injured.”
He’s correct, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially now, as you wait to enter a classroom full of kids. Any other team member would be far more qualified for this role. Gaz is such a cool guy that most kids would deem him a god. Price feels like the father you wish you had when he talks, and Soap can adapt to anyone he speaks to. Even you would be a better fit for this year’s career fair. But, Ghost? No, not at all.
“Come on, Simon,” you say as you continue rubbing his back. “It’s less about ‘being a role model’ and more about relating to them.”
“How am I supposed to relate to them?” He wonders, “My childhood was nothing like theirs.”
“How do you know?”
He looks at you and motions towards the window. “Look at them,” he says, “they’re full of life.”
“Not all of them are like that, Ghost; some are putting on a show.” You explain, and he turns to look at you again. “They look all jolly, but they might struggle at home or school. Worse, they can’t admit what’s happening behind closed doors because they’re either ordered to remain silent or not understand it themselves.”
He huffs and shakes his head. “Now I can relate to that.” He murmurs.
“See? You need to spot these kids and indirectly talk to them.”
“Spot?” He asks. “How do I spot them?”
“You mean to tell me you’re trained to spot targets from miles away but can’t see when a child suffers in silence?” You ask back. “Plus, it takes one to know one.”
He nods. “And what should I communicate to these kids?” He asks. “How do I help them?”
“By showing them that there’s something better waiting for them out there.”
“Don’t be naive, Y/N. How is what we do better than what they’re going through right now?”
“It’s not about the military, Simon.” You elaborate. “It’s about giving them another chance. They deserve to know there are options other than turning into their drug-addicted mother or alcoholic father.” You lean forward so he can meet your gaze. “Someone gave you a second chance, right?”
He closes his eyes and ponders your words. You tilt your head at him, trying to predict what he’ll say next so you can respond quickly.
But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he straightens up and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he begins, “I gave one of those speeches to a school a few years ago.”
“Oh!” You cheer and pat him on the back twice. “Did you, now?”
“Lysychansk, Ukraine.” He recalls, “I was being held hostage with a bunch of kids.”
“Tell me more about it,” you say, sitting on the principal’s desk and playing with a pink highlighter. He begins narrating his story, and you can tell he’s becoming more confident as he realises he’s spoken to children before, albeit in a very different context, but who cares? What matters is that he is becoming more at ease with his “previous experience.”
You, in turn, try to give him your full attention, but now that his doubts have subsided, your primary concern is that mask of his. He needs to take it off.
“See? You’re far more experienced than any of us!” you shout. “And in that setting? My god! None of us would have been able to do such a thing!”
He chuckles and looks proudly out the window at the children playing in the school’s playground. He seems to be looking forward to it now.
“Hey, um, sir?”
He shifts his focus to you.
“Your mask, sir; It’s dirty,” you say as you point to his cheek.
He puts his hands on his mask. “Where?” He yells.
“It’s right….” You get up from the desk and take a step closer to him, inspecting his mask. You raise the marker and draw a bright pink line across his cheek, “...there.”
He immediately places his hand on his cheek, looks at the highlighter in your hand, and then back at you.
“You... motherfucker...” he murmurs.
You move away from him and stand behind the desk.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go out with that mask on; the parents will be furious.” You point to the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. “You do, however, have two other options! Take your pick, and I’ll see you in class in 5 minutes!” And with that, you rush out of the principal’s office and into the school’s corridor.
You enter the classroom and greet the kids with a smile, trying to hide your nervousness. Walking towards the back where the parents are seated, your mind starts racing; Is he trying to choose a mask, or is he cleaning up your mess? What if he’s so furious that he doesn’t show up, leaving you to give the speech? Worse, what if he enters the classroom and takes his anger out on you?
But, the door opens, and Ghost walks in. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. He’s not wearing any mask. Not the black one, not the green one, not the skull—with the pink streak—mask on. Nothing.
You observe him moving around; despite his lack of disguise, he maintains his composure. He greets everyone in the room, smiles, waves back at the kids and stands next to the teacher. You let out a relieved exhale through pierced lips. This is going well, thank god.
As the teacher introduces Ghost to the class, you turn to give him a thumbs up, and his eyes lock with yours. There’s a faint smirk playing on his lips, and your heart skips a beat as he silently mouths something in your direction: “You’ll pay for this.”
———————————————————————
A/N: YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, ANON! I was forcing myself to take a break from writing, only to be slapped by an inspiration wave. Hope you liked it, though; I had fun making it.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon riley#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley fanfiction#cod ghost#ghost cod mwii#ghost cod mw2#ghost cod
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day 19. rimming. with. haewon.
723 words.
tags.
kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, haewon is haewon, what else is there to say, rimming, handjob, writer is the moon knight meme in this one.
notes.
im out of (barely) good ideas and im panicking. fizzlingoutly, leaf.
You didn’t think it’d be so easy getting from Haewon’s overlip leaving pink-leaning-orange (she keeps insisting she’s a cool tone, but hm, is she really?) marks on her coke glass to the same lip imprints circling your butthole as she leaves wet kisses all around it. No, it was just a quick exchange, like she was choosing what to have for lunch at Subway.
“Wait, you’ve done this already, right?” You ask her, not without a little worry.
“Nah, have you?” She spits back casually.
“I thought you were the one who ate ass and wanted me to be your mate?! You know, mate in the, Brit sense, not in the… scientific sense.” That was more complicated than it needed to be.
“I dunno, I’m just tryna have fun.” She shrugs.
The correct answer, like in the Subway situation, is to not find yourself there, but if for some reason you do, might as well try to make the best of it. And the best of it, in this case, supposedly consists in Haewon’s hands keeping your thighs wide open as you lay on your back while her tongue takes a few short, explorative trips from your testicles, down to your perineum, applying a little pressure on it, and to the edge of your puckered hole. She brings her fingers up to your previously lubricated shaft to stroke it from time to time, but your groans when she does make them retreat immediately, reminding her that no, that’s not the main dish tonight.
It feels a little weird, having something touch you down there, but when that something has the soft, smooth texture, the expert dexterity and the cunning wit of Haewon’s tongue, well, then it’s probably Haewon’s tongue that’s when weird falls into the background to make space for pleasing, as testified by your whimpers, starting sparse and now becoming more and more frequent. That’s enough evidence for the girl to deduce that it’s time to go in, and when she does without any sign of warning, the only thing that can reasonably come out of your mouth, after a loud moan, that is, is a “Fuck you!”. That’s fair, she thinks, as she keeps attacking the inside of your cavern, and fair is the answer that you receive.
“That’s only gonna happen later, be patient”
Haewon starts circling all around the inner edge of your hole, making you bring a hand to your mouth to try to contain your own groans, or worse, screams. How does the joke bear get to this? How does she go from acting as the loser girl transferring schools in 7th grade for shits and giggles, to having you struggle to keep your shit together in your own bed because she wanted to, and this should be more or less the exact quote, “tongue-punch your bussy, you little boy bitch!”? Maybe sometimes it’s better not to ask. Other times, you don’t really have the physical capability to ask because your ‘friend’ (an umbrella term, but the most appropriate one to describe the two of you, you think; again, sometimes it’s better not to ask) is alternating between pumping her tongue deep in your asshole and wrapping her lips around its entrance to suck all the air out of it. Those times, the hand that was keeping your mouth closed becomes an object just like any other to bite onto, because now it would be screams. Those times, making the best of it is letting Haewon play with her toy and focusing on not letting the whole neighborhood know about it. Not supposedly anymore.
So when the final thrusts of her tongue hit you where it pleases the most, both of her hands back on your length and stroking, the only thing you can do is wail onto your own hand while you watch spurts upon spurts of white fly up in the air and back down on your abs, the muscles of your ass flexing repeatedly around her tongue. Lay your head back down onto the pillow and let yourself catch your breath again as you spread your arms open on the bed. Not even a minute, and she’s already taking her zip-up sweater and ripped blue jeans off and throwing them on the ground.
“Come on, fucker, what did you think the main dish was?”
-
footnotes.
maybe the formula is just sleep schedule plus work ethic, times effort. mathematically, leaf.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#girl group smut#idol smut#female idol smut#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#idol x reader#idol x male reader#nmixx#haewon#oh haewon#nmixx haewon#nmixx smut#haewon smut#oh haewon smut#nmixx haewon smut
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jason todd x reader please 😔
The ShopKeep and the Hobbyist [J.T]
Summary: Jason's been going to this bookstore for long enough that he's developed a bit of a reputation with them. If only the cute cashier would understand he's trying to flirt but as fate would have it, one knife chase later, and maybe they're more than worker and costumer.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Male!Reader
WC: 7.3k
TW: use of fag but its a quote
Jason traveled out of Gotham once a week, always on a Sunday, always to the same location for three entire hours. Everyone knew that Sunday from noon to four— accounting for traffic and eating out that might happen, that Jason was absolutely unavailable. Unless you physically went to track him down.
But that’s yet to happen.
It’s Sunday and Jason arrived at the normal spot earlier than usual. Traffic was amazing, no accidents on the way out of Gotham, and the highway was thankfully void. He parked his bike in his normal spot, right in front of the store, and lifted the visor to the helmet before heading inside.
The Open Book had always welcomed Jason, even when the shop was closed in the middle of a blizzard. And he helped where he could (Wayne Enterprises always made a large monthly donation to the shop and for some odd reason, someone had gifted the shop a fake bird that is able to stop any thefts(odd)).
“New shipment came in today,” The store owner's grandson greeted him, leaning across the counter to grab at the basket of free candies the shop offered. “Snagged this vintage-looking book collection for ya.” Ever since word that a Wayne kid visits the bookshop, sales have grown so it’s hard keeping certain items in stock. Especially the fancy-looking titles.
“Do tell,” He grabs a bite-sized chocolate and rips the packet open while you set your lollipop wrapper into your apron pocket before ducking under the counter.
“Shits heavy,” You grunt, slamming the box onto the table and read the label. “Uhh, ‘William Shakespeare, Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies. Published According to the True Originall Copies, 1623.’ Original is spelled wrong, though,” You look up at him and pause at his wide-eyed, clearly shocked expression.
“Shakespeare fan?” You ask, opening the flap to the box. “There’s a bunch of them in here. I think this was someone’s collection.”
“Do you know how much it’s worth?” Jason laughs, peering into the box, and then whistles.
“Probably a hundred at the most,” You shrug and he slaps the table with a loud Ha! that makes you look at him, crossing his arms. “Fifty?”
“Try nine mil,” The lollipop falls from your mouth as you look from Jason to the book collection.
“For all of it?” You gape.
“For the top book,” He corrects. “Thank god you snagged it before someone who cared did.”
“Yeah,” You sigh, staring at the book and taking in all of the details. That’s more than you’ll ever make in a lifetime. “What should I do? Do you want it?”
“Want it like I need air,” He admits, handing you another lollipop. “But you should probably auction it, get a stack and whatnot.”
“Grams would get pissed,” You shake your head and slide the box towards him. “Believes books should be read, not stored as an artifact, yknow? Think she marked this box as a hundred, want me to ring it up?” He looks at you and takes his helmet off so you can fully see his are you stupid? look that’s plastered on his face.
“(Y/n),” Jason slides the box back. “This is worth more than every single book in here!” And as much as he pained Jason to say that, he knew it was true. With over two entire floors filled with books, they were but a drop in the bucket compared to that singular box sitting between the two of you.
“It’s just paper and ink,” You shrug, staring at the box. “Besides, she’d get mad if I did and I can’t exactly hide nine million dollars!” Sighing through his nose, he agrees to buy the box and has you set it aside while he goes about shopping.
“You’re staring,” Someone tells him as they walk past and his head spins around to see who it is. It’s one of your younger sisters, around twelve or thirteen, if he remembers right.
“Wasn’t,” He tells her and picks up a book. “I was looking at this book!” She turns back to him and raises her eyebrows at the title before grinning.
“Didn’t take you as an Ice Breaker fan,” She chides and walks away while Jason stares at the book. It could’ve been basically any other book. Putting the book back, Jason returns to his actual book shopping which only takes ten or so minutes. He knows his bag is going to be heavy with the Shakeseapre books so he can’t get too many other books this week.
“Light load,” You comment, scanning the books. “You bought this one a month ago, too.” You note, holding off on scanning A Good Girls Guide to Murder.
“My sister wants to read it,” He explains, flipping through the pages. “And she likes to dogear pages.” Cringing, you scan the book and read him his total before leaning against the counter. It’s a large enough counter that most of your body can rest against it while he pays while you use your phone to order some lunch.
“That place sucks ass,” Jason comments as he’s putting his card away. You roll your eyes and look up at him.
“I’m hungry as shit and there’s no good places around within a reasonable price, this place has decent grilled cheeses.” You justify and he finishes paying.
“What would you have gotten?” He muses, leaning against the counter so the two of you are face to face. Staring at the sad picture of a grilled cheese you huff.
“Five guys,” You admit, looking back at him. He nods, silently urging you to continue while looking you up and down, his eyes slowly moving. You also don’t notice it or the small smile on his face when you don’t move away from him. “Strawberry milkshake and grilled cheeseburger.” You finished.
“No fries?” He asks and you shake your head.
“I don’t really eat fries from there,” You admit, fiddling with the skin around your nails.
“Sounds good,” He tilts his head a bit, grinning so his canines are showing. He watches as your eyes dip once and then twice to his lips before they finally stay on his face.
“It’s fucking good. An arm and a leg, but still,” Standing up, you groan and stretch. He stands up too and puts on his helmet. You watch and wait for him to dip his head down before giving his head two pats. For good luck, of course.
When he leaves, you return to your seat and look over the shop. There’s a dozen or so people inside, some people who are clearly not there for books as they’re recording those random interviews with the tiny microphones and such. You should really stop them, maybe put up a sign or something. But they’re leaving anyway. So it doesn’t really matter.
“Did you kiss?” Your sister asks, walking over to grab one of the candies.
“Girl,” Your face scrunches and she tosses the wrapper at you but it falls short.
“Just saying, seemed awfully close.” She shrugs. “I would’ve made a move on him a long time ago.”
“You’re ten.” Huffing, she huffs back and puts her hands on her hips.
“Nineteen,” She corrects. Making a talking motion with your hand, she smacks it away and throws a fireball candy at you. “That’s why you’re forty and a virgin!”
“Neither of those are true,” You stress, tossing the candy back into the bowl. “And didn’t you just get dumped by some loser who said he’d absolutely eat a turducken covered in chocolate?” She rolls her eyes and walks behind the counter to sign into work.
“I dumped him,” She corrects. “Unlike your failed relationship with the guy who wanted you to pretend to be a woman.”
“Too low,” You sigh, shaking your head. “Too low.”
—
With your lunch break in full swing, you’re upstairs in the break room watching some crappy straight-to-DVD movie your father had bought years back while eating the very sad grilled cheese when the door opens. Half expecting it to be another family member, you don’t look away from the TV and give a small hey but when no one replies you look towards the door and hum surprised to see Jason there. Even more so on who let him in
“Missed me?” You grin, watching as he closes the door behind him and rolls his eyes.
“Little delivery,” He corrects and motions for you to turn back to the movie. You do, albeit a bit hesitant to do so, but you try not to look back when you hear him getting closer. “Close your eyes, too.” He adds when you look as far back as you can without turning your head. Groaning, you cover your eyes with your hand just to prove you’re not peeking and hear him set something down on the spot next to you.
“See you next week!” He pats your back before snatching the half-eaten grilled cheese from your hand and you take it as a sign you can open your eyes. You’re not even upset he’s eating your lunch, it wasn’t good. Looking at what he had set down, you see the familiar white and red bag and crack a smile.
“You got me Five Guys?” Your head whips to the door but it’s already shutting and you can hear his heavy boots quickly running down the stairs. Turning back to the bag, you pull your phone out and scroll to find his contact.
Thank you
we feast tonight
The two of you don’t text much, mostly if he had forgotten something in the shop or given him a heads-up that the bookstore was closed for the day. Hell, his contact name is still Jason (bookstore fav). But he reads it immediately and thumbs up the last text.
This grilled cheese sucks by the way
It feels like plastic
Probably is lol
While Jason is very much a regular at the shop, you don’t really remember when he first started to frequent the shop. Just that one Sunday, you had seen the time and noticed he was late to the shop. He’d come in almost three hours later than he normally did and watched as you sighed, tossing his favorite candy at him before ushering him to the counter. He listened as you told him that next time he is late he needs to text or you’d send out an amber alert yourself.
He truly hadn’t thought anyone had noticed the change in his routine. Especially someone he only saw once a week. It had been a really shitty night for him and an ever-shitter morning, feeling like a ghost wandering through Gotham, living in a life he never should have.
He apologized with a grin and gave you his number. He also spent a little extra time in the shop, loving the familiar smell around him. He loves the bookstore more than he loves his guns, more than he loves most things really. It’s the only normal thing in his life and truly, Jason doesn’t know what he’d do without it. Without you, honestly. He’s only ever there when you are and a place is only as welcoming as the people inhabiting it.
Which is why he’d picked up the 2 am phone call so fast.
“Jason?” You whisper shout into the phone. He can hear some harsh wind and some distant shouts in the background, but it took much less than that for him to abandon his patrol and start over to you. “Shit— I’m sorry but I don’t know who else to call.” You add, the clarity hitting that during an emergency you called the guy who lived nearly half an hour away on a good day.
“It’s okay, doll,” He replies and you dare to glance behind you. Maybe they’d given up by now, but no. “What’s wrong?” He asks as you round a corner. “Where are you?” He quickly adds and you glance at the road signs.
“Uhh, heading towards Second Ave and Belcher Street. My friend's boyfriend thinks she’s cheating with me and him and his friends are chasing me,” You explain.
“Guns?” He asks, already leaving the Gotham border.
“No,” You huff, the strain of running heavy on your chest. “Just knives.”
That’s good, he tells himself. Distance is what you should be focusing on. But he knows that the regular person cannot run for nearly as long as he can and realistically, you’re bound to get tired much sooner than multiple people.
“Is there a crowd nearby?” You can hear some muffling to his voice but that’s honestly the least of your issues. “Maybe a club or hospital.” He adds when you don’t respond fast enough.
“No,” You strain. “Just apartments and shit. God, fuck! Do you think I should climb the fire escape?” There are several ahead of you, and one of them is low enough for you to grab.
“Can you?” He asks.
“Yeah— yeah,” Jumping up, you pull yourself up and start climbing up to the roof. “Shit, I’m really high up,” You pant, daring to look over the edge and see the guys climbing up. “They’re climbing up,” You tell him, quickly backing away and trying to find an exit. What type of roof doesn’t have a fucking exit?
“I’ve seen people jump from roof to roof,” You're thinking out loud at this point, trying to find some type of solution to your stupid idea. “Can’t be that hard, right?”
“Depends on the distance,” He truthfully tells you and you look at the two nearby roofs.
“Definitely too far. I’m fucked.”
“Still on Second and Blecher?” He asks and you mutter a yeah when you see them reach the roof.
“They’re up,” You mumble. “I could jump and live, yeah?” Glancing to your left, you see a dumpster and reassure yourself that you’d be fine.
“Do you think you can come back down the fire escape?” He asks. “Is there one behind the building?” Looking behind you, you let out a loud sigh.
“Yeah— yes, heading down.” Rushing down as fast as you can, you reach the ground as they’re in the middle and run back into the main road.
“Head back down the way you came,” Jason instructs. He’s only five minutes away at this point, maybe three if he tries hard enough. He just needs you to buy five more minutes.
“Okay,”
Running for what felt like an eternity, your legs are burning and your chest is tight. Maybe that one time you lied during your physical exam was coming back to bite you.
But they’re still chasing you and Jason is still guiding you. You’re sure you’re about to pass out when a motorcycle drifts in front of you.
“Red Hood?” You gape, panting. The fuck?
“Come on,” You hear him and Jason say. You’ll worry about that once you’re away from those absolute track-and-field freaks chasing you. Getting on the motorcycle, he holds your thigh with one hand before pulling off.
The ride is silent as you’re catching your breath and just making sure you’re okay in general. Aside from the insane burn in your calves, you’re fine. The ride does a lot to calm you down, by the time he reaches the shop your head is pressed to his back and you’re holding him not as tight as you were before.
“I don’t know your address,” He admits and you laugh into his back. After all that happened it’s a little humorous that your biggest issue is Jason getting your address. You give it to him and it takes him a second but he has the route mapped out before he pulls back onto the street.
“I’m staying the night.” He tells you as you get off of the bike. You don’t protest, not in the slightest. You’re far too tired to do so anyway. Instead, you wave him over and head upstairs. He tries to hide his helmet from the camera view but you tell him they don’t work.
“This guy got robbed two days ago; whole building found out the cameras are fake,” You explain while leaning against the elevator wall.
“And you feel safe?” He incredulously asks, looking you over. Even buildings in Gotham have working cameras.
“I have a gun,” You shrug while he looks at you with more of an analyzing gaze, a little surprised you’d have a gun. “And no valuables. My electronics are all secondhand for that exact reason.”
“So, steal the couch?” He jokes.
“If it can fit through the door, it’s yours!” Patting his arm, you exit the elevator and fish out your keys. Thankfully you hadn’t dropped them during the chase.
“What happened?” He asks as soon as you close and double lock the door. Looking at him, you drop your phone and keys onto the kitchen island before heading back to the door.
“My friend, Gina,” You start with a sigh, kicking your shoes off. “She used to be my beard in high school. But we never officially broke up, I guess because she posted a story saying happy six-year anniversary. With a bunch of pictures of us together. Her boyfriend saw and he’s always been…” Rolling your hand, you open your closet and grab a new outfit. “He thinks I’m lying ‘bout being gay. Because I’m too… I dunno what he thinks. But he says I don’t look gay and he’s never seen me with a guy before.” You explain with a huff. “Not my fault I’ve been single for two years, y'know. I got school and work and whatever!” Slamming the closet shut, you sigh and apologize.
“I’m gonna take a shower, feel free to snoop and prod. And take the boots off, I just moped.”
“Course,” He doesn’t move an inch as he unties his boots and walks to the shoe rack to set them down. You thank him and head into the bathroom.
“If you gotta piss or shit, go ahead. I got a curtain and a strong scent blaster plugged in.” You tell him at the doorway to the bathroom.
“Noted.” He laughs but it drops once the door closes.
He finds himself making sure the windows are locked and the curtains are properly drawn. He grabs his phone and saves your address into his personal map before he goes to check to see what type of security measures you have. And there’s not many, just a gun that’s badly hidden in your bedside table and the extra lock on the door.
But there’s not much to the apartment, the decor is extremely minimal but he remembers you talking about saving to buy a house in the countryside. Or at least outside of a city. Own land and all that.
He can’t decide if that’s good or not, there’s nothing to steal for sure, but it’s also really sad. There’s no personal touch to your apartment, it reminds him of one of his safe houses.
He settles himself into the couch once he’s checked over everything, listening to the sounds of the shower and eventually, he hears the shower turn off.
When you return to the living room in a pair of shorts, you’re a little surprised that Jason is still there.
“Bruce Wayne as Batman makes a lotta sense,” Opening the fridge, you pull out two water bottles before setting them on the counter.
“(Y/n),” Jason stops that conversation. “You should file a police report.”
“Fuck is that gonna do?” You huff, closing the fridge and opening the freezer to grab a popsicle. “Gina will hate me, cops will just forget to file it, and then I get harassed.”
“They tried to kill you,” He stresses, blocking you from moving away from the fridge. You stare at him, a little upset that he’s caring so much. You feel bad for even calling him and sending him out of his way. And now he’s staying for who knows how long. Not to mention now you know his biggest secret— a family secret at that, one that you can tell one person, and suddenly the whole world knows.
“Happens every day,” You shrug but honestly, yeah, that shit scared you. His face drops and he snatches the popsicle from your hand before tossing it on the counter to your left.
“No. Not to you. Not to most people. So what if Gina hates you afterward? Do you want a friend that’s known you since high school who would rather side with her crazy boyfriend?”
“Of course not!” You groan. “But it’s Gina. She’s always been there and— and this is a one-time thing,”
“You sound ridiculous,” He tells you as he walks out of the small kitchen and into the living room. “Trying to kill someone isn’t a fucking one-off. It’s a crime, a legit crime. Has Gina even checked if you’re okay?” He points to the phone that’s still on the counter; the same phone he knows for a fact hasn’t buzzed once.
“No.” There's no need to check your phone, you already know there’s nothing from her. She’d never text you first. He nods as if to say there’s your answer.
“Look, Jason. It was scary as fuck,” You admit. “But I’m good. And I thank you, but you should go home. I just…” Looking off to the wall. “I don’t know why I called you, I feel like shit for dragging you away from your home.”
“I was spending my night watching Harley and Ivy dry hump in front of a newly exploded power plant. You didn’t take me away from shit.” He blinks before heading to the couch. “Besides, it’s too late to drive back. I’m beat,”
“You’re lying,” You deadpan, tossing a water bottle between your hands.
“Am I?” He fake yawns, leaning back on the couch. “Can I get a blanket?” Clearly, he’s not going to leave, and it would be bad as a host to not make him comfortable. Asshole.
“Fine,” He grins as you walk away.
“Oh and Jason, Gram’s told me about the payment plan you set up. Taking advantage of a woman who can’t speak English is rude. She thinks you’re paying five dollars a week for some back dues you owe.” It was actually five hundred thousand dollars a week, which was absurd but hey, if he insists.
“It’s just nine million,” He calls back. “Not even my money and B won’t notice it’s gone.”
Just nine million, you repeat to yourself as you find a suitable blanket. It’s one of those thick fur blankets with a tiger on the front.
“The couch is a pull-out, by the way.” Heading back into the living room, you tuck the blanket under your arm. “I’ve used it like once. It’s pretty comfortable unless you want the bed.” You add, setting the blanket on the edge of the couch. There’s no coffee table, you don’t see a reason for one.
“I can sleep on gravel, doll. I’m fine, thank you.” For some reason, his eyes are having a hard time staying on your face but you’re busy walking back into the kitchen to notice.
“If you’re hungry make anything, I’m going grocery shopping in two days anyway.” Tossing the popsicle back into the freezer, you lean against the counter and watch him. It’s a little staring contest you have going on. His eyelashes are nice, real pretty boy-esque.
The silence and tension in the apartment is broken by four rapid knocks to the front door followed by a worried: “(Y/n)?”
“Gina,” You tell Jason as he’s already off of the couch and halfway to the front door by the time you stand up straight. When you walk up behind him you pause, when did he have time to grab a gun? But he’s looking through the peephole before looking back to you and holding up two fingers. You almost laugh, this isn’t some military operation; just a… friend? at your door.
“Please,” Gina says through the door. “We just— K wants to apologize,” Huffing, you look at Jason who’s standing behind the door, one hand on the top lock. He truly doesn’t want to unlock it, but it’s your apartment. Your call.
“Says who?” K snaps, his voice a lot more muffled than hers is.
“You’re going to fucking apologize.” She snaps right back.
He raises an eyebrow and you nod to the door against your better judgment. He unlocks the door and stands in front of them, really standing over them with his damn height, the arm holding the gun hidden behind the door. You can basically hear Gina pause when she sees him.
“Who are you?” Gina asks, looking him up and down.
“A friend.” He answers simply and then looks over to you. “Your friend is here.”
“Thanks, Jay.” You smile and usher him into your bedroom with two quick glances. “Gina,” You greet a little harshly as you stand at the door. “Kyle.” You look at him for only a second.
“It’s K.” He corrects.
“Can we come in?” She asks, stepping forward. “I explained everything to K and he’s sorry.” She looks back at him and he’s just standing there with this stupid look on his face.
“Is he?” You ask, looking at Kyle. “Because when he was screaming: I knew you weren’t a fag; I’m gonna cut your dick off; stop running bitch; and since you wanna pretend you’re a fag come and taste our dicks he just didn’t seem real sorry.” She cringes, he hadn’t said that part through the yelling they were doing.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” She places a hand on the door, not that you were planning on closing it just yet. “Let us in and he’ll apologize.” Sighing, you look at her and frown. Between not even texting to see if you’re okay and then coming over with the audacity to think that a fucking apology would smooth things over, you were peeved.
“You’re losing one of us tonight. Him or me.” She takes a step back and frowns, her eyebrows knitting as your words settle in her. But at that moment, you knew the friendship was over. It shouldn’t ever take that long for an answer like that.
“(Y/n), he’s sorry!” She almost shouts, shouting as if you had given her this impossible task. You want to reply, you want to yell, and to get into it then and there. But it’s no use. Your neighbors are sleeping, you’re tired, and far from a mood where you want to interact with them. As such, you close the door and put the locks back on.
She shouts some things from the other side but you’re not listening as you enter your bedroom.
Jason was standing right next to the door, startling you. If he hadn’t been so close you wouldn’t have seen him in the darkness.
“Is that a requirement for vigilantes?” You ask, clutching your chest in an exaggeration. “Y’all are fucking spooky,” Tossing yourself onto your bed, you stare up at him.
“She’s still at the door,” He ignores the comment on his family business once again. Instead, his eyes trained on your front door, watching and waiting to see what their next move is going to be. You hope for their sake it’s leaving because his hand is still on the safety of his gun.
“Not like they can get in,” You shrug, laying flat on your back. “I never give my key to anyone and it takes a full round of bullets to break the door.”
“You know that how?” He asks, setting his gun down on the dresser.
“Last year my neighbor's crazy ex tried to break in but the door didn’t budge.”
“Of course,” His head dips back into the bedroom, watching you. “Sleep, I’ll be in the living room.”
“Okay,” Turning your head to look at him, you grin. “If you get nightmares, the bed is free.” Patting the empty space, Jason rolls his eyes with a grin and leaves the room. “Your gun?” You call after him, staring at the handgun still on your dresser.
“I have two more!” He calls back.
“How the fuck?” But he doesn’t answer.
—
The next morning you wake up to the sound of the front door closing. It stirs you, really, but you’re lucid enough to realize that hey, either Jason treated you like a one-night stand or someone had broken in.
Sitting up in the bed, you collect yourself for a moment and grab his gun on your way out. While you’re surely not as keen as Jason is, you like to think you’re observant enough. The door is locked again, so you figure he didn’t leave and someone didn’t break in.
“Jason?” You turn the corner to the kitchen and see him standing with a bag of Ihop, staring at you as if he’d gotten caught stealing from the cookie jar.
“Good morning,” His eyes flicker to the gun as you set it on the counter. A part of him is proud that you were hesitant enough to bring the gun with you. “I got breakfast.”
“Aw,” You grin. “Post hate crime meal!”
“That’s an insane sentence,” He tells you, unpacking what he had gotten. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you blueberry pancakes, french toast, eggs, and bacon. And the orange juice,” He places two boxes and a large cup of orange juice in front of you, then the straw. But you’re just focused on the fact that you know for a fact that wasn’t a random order. You’d posted about that exact order once before. Maybe a month or so ago.
“Oh,” You hum, looking at the food and then at him. “That’s sweet. Thank you.” He hums back, dropping the bag down to the floor, and takes his food. He’d gotten strawberry pancakes, hash browns, an omelet, and a coffee.
Now you feel bad for not having a coffee table.
“Wanna watch something while we eat?” You point your thumb toward the living room and he nods.
While in the middle of watching Breaking Bad, you get up to set the empty containers in the sink and the cup in the trash while Jason watches. He doesn’t really know what to do, he wants to sleep, having stayed up the entire night in case anything happened but he’s enjoying his time with you. Even if the circumstances were… less than ideal.
“Do you work today?” He asks when you’re walking back.
“Depends if my sister calls out,” Sitting, you turn your body to look at him. “I work Wednesday through Sunday, most weeks, at least.”
“Are you going to make the report?” He also turns his body to you, watching as you toss your head back and sigh.
“Probably not,” You admit, looking back at him. “It’s more effort than I care to do,” He blinks, clearly disappointed but he’s not going to push.
“You should carry a weapon.” Jason’s not really asking, he’s telling you. “How good are you with a gun?”
“Not sure,”
“You bought a gun without training for it?” He asks, slowly as if he’s waiting for you to correct him and tell him that you actually go to the gun range in your free time.
“My dad got me it when I moved out.” You shrug, feeling a little ashamed because now he’s looking at you like you’re insane. “He said I needed protection and he doesn’t believe in mace or tasers.”
“Clearly you do!” He throws his hand up towards the door. “We’re going to the gun range today.”
“Jay!” You groan, nudging his leg with your foot. He grabs it and slides you down the couch. “I’m fine.” He just hums and leans over you, it doesn’t do much. Aside from shutting you up.
He’s staring at you, his eyes unwavering from yours while you can’t seem to settle on where to look. It’s making you nervous— he’s making you nervous. The proximity isn’t the biggest issue, no the issue is the fact that you don’t mind that he’s above you, his hand right next to your head, and for fucks sake his breathing is even.
“You’re going.”
“Yup,”
—
Weirdly enough, the shooting range wasn’t in some building. No, Jason had decided to drive the hour's ride to a private lot. While normally you don’t agree to be in the middle of butt fuck nowhere without your own means of leaving, you were willing to bend your rules this one time.
He has you help with setting up the cans and the body dummies, which are incredibly lifelike. A little creepy, but whatever floats his boat, you guess. He also puts up a new target sheet on a metal wall before he returns to hand you a handgun and ear mufflers.
“Don’t hold it like that,” He blinks as you’re pointing the gun directly at your foot. You’re not a fool, you’ve played a couple of shooter games before.
“The safety is on,” You justify but point it toward the ground instead. Just to keep him happy. He just sighs and grabs his own gun, pointing it toward the dummy.
“Stand like this,” He watches you from the corner of his eye as you mimic his stance. It’s a little uncomfortable but very technical. “A little straighter.” Fixing your posture he nods and drops his stance to adjust your grip on the gun. He takes your hands and adjusts them appropriately. “It’s not accurate for beginners, but I learned this way.” He explains as he steps behind you and lowers himself to your height. It’s hard when you’re not the same six foot-five that he is, but that’s neither here nor there.
With his line of sight that is the same as yours, he raises your hands a little higher and a little to the left. You trust his judgment, you’re no fool on how accurate Red Hood is with his guns.
It's silent, so silent that you can hear him breathing even through the heavy earmuffs. Whether you like it or not, you start to stop focusing on the task at hand and on him. He smells like your soap, too. It’s a little too domestic for the setting you’re in.
“Take it off of safety,” He instructs, taking two steps away. Doing as he says, you want to roll your shoulders back but you’re worried you’d lose the position. “Go ahead.” His arms cross as he stares ahead at the dummy and you catch the flex of muscle under his shirt.
Adjusting yourself as lowkey as you can, you close one eye and press the trigger. It's harder than you would’ve thought, giving you only a moment to back out. Following through, you let the recoil push you back a little before looking at the dummy. It didn’t hit the center of the head, instead grazing over the ear.
“Close,” Jason looks over at you as you’re rubbing your shoulder but stops when you catch him looking at you. “Again?”
—
“I mean,” One of your friends, Tasha, takes a long sip of her drink. “None of us wanted to say anything but Gina is a bitch.” Frowning, you push around your food with the back of your fork. What was supposed to be your friend group's monthly putting ended up becoming a major therapy session when they noticed that Gina wasn’t there.
“Yeah,” Dante gives you a sort of frown sort of smile. “But you’d been friends with her for longer than us, so it wasn’t really our place.”
“It’s crazy that it took her boyfriend trying to kill me to realize that, though.” It felt a bit weird, she’d always been in your life, and before the whole incident, you never would’ve thought you’d be without her. But life was the same, if not better with her gone. You didn’t realize how much you didn’t need her until now and honestly, you’re just upset it didn’t happen sooner.
Especially considering all of your other friends didn’t like her.
“Speaking of,” Alex cranes her neck to look at you. “Who’s Jason?” She grins as your eyes narrow. You’re not one to divulge about your life, especially over text.
“How do you know about him?” Setting your fork down, she snorts before digging back into her meal.
“Girl, I was the Uber Eats driver.” She explains and looks to the others who are clearly out of the loop. “My first order of the day, some guy named Jason with a blank profile. Whatever, right? I pick up the Ihop order— he knows your taste, cute.” She quickly adds. “And then, I get the address. I’m just thinking (Y/n) created a fake profile. Nah, bro!” She covers her mouth to stop her laughing and to stop any potential food from flying out of her mouth.
“I knock and this tall guy with this hot face scar opens the door. If he would’ve asked I would’ve taken the tip,” And she didn’t mean money.
“Clearly he already did!” Dante cackles, watching as you drown yourself in the soda you’d ordered. The others laugh while you have to do damage control.
“Jay’s a friend who happened to be in the neighborhood when Kyle was chasing me,” The three look at each other, ever aware of the fact that you’re staring at your plate while talking. They just assume the friend part is a lie. “And he spent the night. On the couch.” You add, looking at each of them to make sure that they understand.
“And ordered you breakfast in bed. And he left a hundred-dollar tip,” Alex swirls her pasta around her fork while the others gape at the news.
“Oh girl,” Tasha looks over at you. “He got a sister?”
“Too young for your old ass!” You laugh while she pretends to be offended. “His sisters are nineteen and eighteen.” You wondered if you should add Barbra to his list of family. But you think she’s more of an acquaintance than family. But you could be wrong.
“You know his family?” Tasha’s eyebrows furrow.
“I know of his family. Never met that before.”
“Ah, waiting for the one-year mark?” Alex nods as if she had caught the drift you are trying to get at.
“Oh my god,” Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your seat.
“What? You’re acting like you’re not attracted to that man. He’s fine as hell!” Alex pushes her hair behind her ear as she talks. “Might have to revoke your gay card.”
“I never said that, it’s just…” Rubbing your hands on your pants, your face scrunches. “He could be straight.” Now, you weren’t going to deny the fact that Jason was attractive. He was the embodiment of your personal preferences, but you were a chronic overthinker with these sorts of things. To the point where it needs to be spelled out for you to get any hints.
“He got you breakfast in bed.” Dante sounds out each word, putting an equal amount of extra emphasis on it. Just to make sure it really sinks in.
“I did that for you guys before!” You defend.
“Fine— fine, how do you know him?” Tasha asks and the others nod, happily awaiting your response.
“He comes into the shop every Sunday. He’s been coming for about four years, give or take.” You shrug and they blink at each other. This is why you’re still single.
“Isn’t he the one that bought you Five Guys last month?” Dante is now physically turned to you, his eyes wide and you grumble. You never told them about that.
“You’re lying,” Alex cackles. “That’s your man and you don’t wanna admit it. Five guys is expensive.”
“How about this?” Dante rolls his hand before you can even reply to Alex. “If one of Tasha’s friends got her an expensive lunch without asking, showed up to her job every single shift for four years, stayed with her after a traumatic night, got her breakfast, and didn’t leave until she was truly safe; how much platonic energy does that give you?”
“Not a lot, but—“
“Nah,” Dante holds your hands as he speaks. “I love you, so don’t take this the wrong way but you’re stupid as fuck. He wants you.”
“He wants the books I sell. And my friendship.”
“He wants to spread something other than pages.” He shakes his head and you snort. “Ask him out, if he says no. Then I owe you a grand.”
“You don’t have a grand.” You deadpan and he nods.
“I’m so sure he’ll say yes that I’m making that bet.”
“Fine,” You huff. “But if this ruins my friendship you all owe me lunch for a month.” Surprisingly, they all agree and you settle on asking him on the upcoming Sunday. So, the very next day.
—
“Why are your friends watching you?” Your sister asks as she walks behind you to grab one of the display books and swap it for a different one.
“Don’t worry about them,” You mutter, too busy watching the window; waiting for the motorcycle to stop in front of the store. She notices, of course, and stands behind you before deciding it was time to take her break and join your friends upstairs.
Eventually, you see his motorcycle pull up and sigh, fixing your apron but stop when you hear them snickering. This whole situation was stupid, that’s what you’ve decided. But you’ve made your bed, it was time to lie in it.
Jason walks in, his eyes immediately finding yours but you’re busy ringing someone up. He grabs the basket from the front of the shop and walks around the shop until he sees the line is gone.
“Jay,” You grin, holding onto the counter.
“(Y/n),” His eyes focus on your hands for a second before he grabs a chocolate from the basket. Glancing at your friends, you fix your posture and reassure yourself. “Anything new?” Typically, you’d already be talking about what’s new but there’s just this hanging silence.
“Nah,” You shake your head but still double-check the inventory log. “But we’re getting some um… science fiction stuff next week.” He’s not too big on those, maybe once in a blue moon he’ll actually buy one. He goes to talk but your phone dings before he can open his mouth. Watching as you grab your phone, your eyes scan over a text before you huff and silence it.
“I heard about…” You trail into a whisper. “The Riddler kidnapping, you okay?” Not the best way to lead into asking someone out, but hey. Could’ve been worse.
“I’m fine,” He nods. “Arms a little sore but I’ll live.”
“Long enough to go on a date with me?” You ask, a bit quicker than you intended but thankfully your words haven’t jumped up. He laughs, his eyes closing and you falter, glancing up at your friends for some type of support.
“That was a bold transition,” He settles himself down. “When are you free?”
“Oh shit, for real?” You grin. “I’m free Monday. Or whenever you are, really. My shifts are pretty flexible,”
“I’ll pick you up Monday,”
“I asked you on the date,” You huff. “I’m picking you up.” He crosses his arms and his eyes lower into a sort of unamused expression.
“You’ll pick me up, from Gotham?” He asks, just to make sure you know what you’d be signing up for. Truthfully, you hadn’t. And as such, you weigh your options— you don’t even have a car to offer to pick him up in. Damn.
“Fine, Monday at eight.” Giving in, he nods and glances around the shop.
“I don’t need a book today, see you tomorrow.” He looks you up and down, this time you watch as his eyes slowly drag down and tilt your head.
“Looking like you already wanna kiss me, Jay.” You joke as his eyes reach yours again.
“Since you offered.” He grins and sneaks one single kiss that lasts less than a second.
“I get off in thirty,”
#x male reader#x reader#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x male reader#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood x male reader
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Hi, we are several hundred rats. More accurately, I am a rat, writing on behalf of my several hundred friends, who are also rats.
It's pretty good, being rats, certainly compared to all the nonsense sapios and other bipeds have to deal with. Like knees, and dentist appointments. Recently, though, we've run into a problem. It's very common for sapios to mistake us for a multi-coporeal entity or a collective intelligence or something of that nature. You know, quote-unquote hive minds. Ignoring the fact that most hives don't actually work like that and the way that the common vernacular exposes the inherent sapionormative biases of the modern social system, it usually isn't a problem. One of us corrects them, the human reacts however they react, no big deal. Their reactions are on them, not our problem.
I'm being asked to add that it's a little sad that the humans don't have the close social bonds that could be mistaken for that kind of thing. So now I have. And now they're discussing whether it's sad or just the nature of the human condition. I'm going to keep writing while they're not trying to co-author this letter.
Well, about three years ago, a colony of cerebrachnids moved in next door with their host body. We don't need to tell you, of course, that brain spiders are actually a collective intelligence. Almost all of us have been of great terms with them since day one. It's nice having someone around who can sympathize with how sapios view us. Rats and spiders, right?
Turns out that they've thought we were some sort of multi-coporeal entity this whole time. It came up last week when some of us were visiting for tea. They've thought for years that we were some manner of genus similar to them, and have just been too polite to ask what we are. I, the rat doing the typing, wasn't there, but the ones who were there all agree that our neighbor got a little weird about it, and they're a lot less overtly friendly since then.
We can't agree if they're feeling awkward, or if they're maybe reevaluating the whole friendship in the light of how we have less in common with them than they thought.
Any advice? Do we just pretend it didn't happen and go on like normal?
Thank you for getting touch, reader – or should I say, readers? I'm extremely heartened to hear how healthy your collective attitudes are to the misconceptions people have about multi-corporeal entities and collective intelligences. I'm also pleased that you recognise your own boundaries in managing other people's expectations and reactions to your lived reality.
That said, I don't think there's any risk of your overstepping those boundaries by reaching out to this neighbour and clearing the air about their misconception. I understand you don't want to take on more than your share of the emotional work. But frankly, simply being aware of that as a potential issue is generally enough to stop it from happening.
There might be any number of reasons for your neighbours' sudden standoffishness. They might be embarrassed by their mistake, or feeling foolish for misunderstanding your nature. Or they might be disappointed at the loss of what they assumed was a friendship built on commonality of experience. The fact is, you won't know until you talk to them.
Invite them over for tea and let them know how much you've missed them. Emphasise how much you all value your relationship with them, and that you're keen that this misunderstanding should be set aside.
I would also take the time to stress how much you do have in common, despite these differences. You may not share the same kind of consciousness as them, but there has been enough shared between you to sustain years of friendship – not only shared interests and talking points, but also deeper commonalities around how sapios treat your genuses.
I don't think anything will be gained by making them feel shamed or punished, especially if they were acting out of nothing more malicious than embarrassment. Give them a little grace, and take the time to clear the air between you properly. Then, with any luck, you'll all be able to shrug this moment off as nothing but an awkward bump in the otherwise smooth road of friendship.
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a/n: hope this is okay for you anon! just a quick drabble i typed up before i go to sleep <3 ps, thank you for the kind words :)
ᗢ
behind closed doors
warnings: 18+, smut, mommy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, intersex!stepmom wanda, bratty reader, degradation, cheating.
words: 1.9k
“oh honey, that is not how that story goes and you know it”
you roll your eyes at the sound of the group you’re apart of laughing in an ear piercing uproar, the sound grates your ears and you bite back a wince at the sheer volume.
“i swear that’s what happened.. unless my old age is getting to me”
it was your mothers turn to speak, her words are in response to your step mothers’ first comment, in regards to a story that in your opinion, no one really gave a fuck about; but they all laugh along, eager to appease your mother and her boring sense of humour.
you shifted slightly on your feet, your hands tugging downwards on the hem of your dress before something catches your eye.
a waiter, mere seconds away from passing by you holds a tray of flute glasses in one hand that is filled to the perfect point with expensive champagne. you quickly snatch away a single glass and raise it to your lips, the bubbles fizz at the brim, the smell of limestone invading your nostrils as you take a delicate sip.
it’s an acquired taste to say the least, but you ignore the aroma, letting it hit your palate as you gulp down the rest of the drink. you feel eyes on you and just as quickly as you obtain the glass, it’s just as swiftly taken away from you.
you gasp softly, looking up to see green eyes that beam with fury. “you’re not allowed to be drinking y/n, don’t do that again”
the voice is low and seething with anger, instantaneously it causes a smirk to twitch at your lips upon hearing it. “oh i’m sorry wanda, i needed something to wash down the bullshit, you can hardly blame me”
wanda’s eyes narrow, a snarl curling in her lips as she speaks. “you pathetic little girl, can’t you just keep your snide comments to yourself for one night? this is an important time for your mother, you know that. now shut your mouth and show some respect”
silence had quickly fallen on the group, all eyes focused on the intense scene unfolding before them. your mother watches from the sidelines, embarrassment evident in her face as she stands by idly.
your mother was never one to correct you, always too careful with her words and too afraid to grow a back-bone and put you in your place. wanda on the other hand was the complete opposite; she had quickly grown to be the one who stepped up, even in the short two years that you had known her.
it honestly wanted to make you laugh. your own flesh and blood, too scared to reprimand you, but someone you had known for over 24 months was brave enough to take matters into her own hands and portray some dominance.
“i don’t have to show you shit wanda, you’re not my mother. now if you’ll excuse me, i’d rather be anywhere else but here”
you turn your body to leave, your feet stepping forward to take you out of the banquet hall and away from the fake facades that radiate from everyone in the room like a bad smell.
a hand latches itself onto your wrist, the grip firm in its placement that quickly stops you in your tracks.
“carry on everyone, i think y/n just needs some fresh air” wanda steps past you, her feet moving with determination as she drags you along behind her.
you remain silent as wanda moves through the crowd of people, taking you out of the hall and into a corridor that’s home to multiple doors that lead to god knows where. it was quite excessive in your opinion but you don’t reflect on it for long as wanda flings open one of the wooden doors and pushes you inside before she steps inside after you, pulling the door shut behind her.
the room wanda had charged you both into seemed to be an office. bookcases rested on the outskirts of the room and picture frames that held famous quotes and paintings hung delicately on the walls. behind you situated a large oak desk and you shifted backwards until you leant against the hard wood.
“what is wrong with you today? you aren’t usually this.. bitchy” the redhead mutters, her voice much less sterner than it was previously. “the way you spoke in there, i have half a mind to wash your mouth out with soap”
you shrug your shoulders, not really having an answer for the woman before you. instead, you choose to direct the conversation to something you have more of an interest in. “or you could spank me? that’s usually your go to punishment, mommy”
a glint of amusement flashes in your eyes along with a smile that soon spreads across your lips.
wanda tilts her head and you watch as the gears turn in her mind while she reflects on your words. “oh” she elongates, “so that’s why you’re being such a brat, huh? your slutty little pussy is turning your brain to mush and all you can do is act out like a child”
wanda steps forward, her gaze never faltering as she approaches your smaller frame. even in high heels the redhead stood taller than you, making you gulp as she looks down at your strong demeanour that quickly starts to fade the closer she gets.
“if you wanted my cock darling, all you had to do was ask. this whole ‘i hate you’ illusion is getting old, especially when we both know how much you love being my little breeding whore”
your eyebrows knit together as you bite down on your bottom lip, not letting out the whimper that’s threatening to escape from the back of your throat. “but it’s hard to ask when everyone else has your attention but me! do you know how hard it is to see my mother fawn over you like a lapdog while others gather around you to hear that stupid wedding story for the umpteenth time?”
wanda juts out her bottom lip in a feigned pout as she steps closer once more until your hips soon connect and your breasts press flush together. you feel something hard protrude from the confines of her suit pants and you can’t help but gasp at the feeling.
“oh honey, you don’t have to be jealous. this is what you do to me,” wanda accents her words with a jut of her hips, her cock pressing harshly against the inside of one of your thighs. “not her.. you know i have to play the doted wife when it comes to these fancy parties, image and reputation is important”
a groan escapes your lips when wanda moves her hips again, you feel her grow harder behind the soft cotton and you instantly wrap your arms around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a hungry kiss; something you had been dying to do ever since you left the house hours prior.
wanda moans against your mouth, her hands moving to grasp the back of your thighs before promptly lifting you on top of the desk. you break the kiss, huffing at the impact before quickly collecting yourself to move your head forward, peppering sloppy kisses on the base of wanda’s neck. “it doesn’t make it any easier”
“i know, detka. but, you’re mine.. all mine. don’t let your dumb little brain forget that”
you nod with a breathy, “yes mommy” before continuing your work against wanda’s soft skin. you nibble and suck at her neck, careful not to leave any marks.
you had learned your lesson long ago when you got a little too rambunctious and left a hickey below wanda’s jawline, she loved how you wanted to mark what was yours, but she had to punish you on disobeying her orders.
never leave evidence, that’s how you get caught, she said. and wanda wouldn’t let anyone ruin what you two had together, especially not over something so simple as a love bite.
wanda’s hands thread through the length of your hair, grasping a handful before tugging backwards until your mouth detaches from the comfort of her skin. you look up at her, panting slightly and wanda can’t help the twitch in her cock at your doe-eyed expression.
“god.. you have no idea what you do to me. you’re so beautiful, detka. so beautiful and all mine”
wanda’s free hand moves down her stomach until it lands on the leather belt that wraps around her waist snugly. she quickly unbuckles it and then shifts to unzip her pants, the item of clothing swiftly falling down until it bunches around her ankles.
“i have to admit, you aren’t the only one who’s desperate tonight. the way you look in this dress is mesmerising, and all i wanted to do was rip it off you and stuff you full of my cum”
you moan out, not caring for the volume as her filthy words echo in your mind. “please, mommy. that’s all i want, i need your cock so bad”
wanda chuckles, releasing her grip from your hair so she can let her hands fall to the hem of your dress. “yeah?.. you want mommy to fuck her cum into you? get you all good and pregnant?”
you moan once more, your hips bucking at the question. “yes yes, i do,” you let a hand snake its way past wanda’s arms, searching for the one thing you crave right now. once you do, you cup her cock through the material of her boxer briefs, grinding your hand against the hard member slightly until you feel it pulse under your touch. “fuck me, please”
that’s all it takes for wanda to tug at the hem of your dress until it collects around your hips. the mouth watering sight of a red thong now on display has wanda groaning and thrusting her hips against the palm of your hand, her body desperate for friction.
“i love it when you wear these skimpy little things. you look delicious, my love”
as much as wanda loves the sight of them, her attention lies much deeper than that; behind the thin barrier that stops her from seeing your bare form.
you mutter an, “all for you” before wanda grows impatient and yanks down the material. the cold air hits your now uncovered pussy, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you watch her blindly throw them on the desk behind you.
the redhead trails a single digit through your slick folds, a soft moan leaving her lips at the feeling. “such a messy pussy, i’m betting i could easily slide right inside”
your head falls to rest on wanda’s shoulder, your mind reeling at the touch of wanda’s hand. “mommy, don’t tease.. please. we can’t be gone for too long”
wanda tuts at your avidity before promptly speaking. “hmm, you’re right malysh. we don’t have a lot of time, everyone will be wondering where we are.. and we wouldn’t want everyone to know the daughter of the esteemed ceo loves to be fucked stupid by her step mother, would we?”
#wanda maximoff smut#stepmom wanda#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#mcu fanfiction#the scarlet witch
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TLG Outlanders Incorrect Quotes pt…..5?
Janja: I think we're missing something
Reirei: Teamwork?
Kiburi: Cohesion?
Mzingo: A general sense of what we’re doing?
On some mission (feat. Kifo):
Kifo: Nenenenenenenenenenenene-
Shupavu: *whispering loudly* Kifo, what are you doing?!
Kifo: It’s my stealth noise! Nenenenenenenenenenenene
Njano: *laughs* Nenenenenenenenenenenene
Shupavu: Everyone, shut the fuck up!
Literally all of the skinks: Nenenenenenenenenenene
Human/Zootopia au:
Cheezi: NOTHING’S WORKING!
Chungu: Wait, Cheezi! We’re not cavemen! We have technology… *repeatedly smashes computer*
Janja: AWOOOOO
Cheezi: NYEEEEEEHHHHH
Chungu: LEEDLE LEEDLE LEEDLE LEE
Janja: That’s crazy talk!
Chungu: That’s not crazy talk, THIS is crazy talk! Gableehblahbleh Hublehbluhbleh BLEH BLEH BLEH lehlehlehleh-(Janja smacks Chungu)
Goigoi: Chungu, I don’t think “wumbo” is a real word
Chungu: Sure it is! I wumbo, you wumbo, he, she, me, wumbo. Wumbo, wumbo-ing, wumboer...
Sumu(while Chungu is still going on): ...I wonder if a fall from this height would be enough to kill me....
Chungu: Wumbology: The Study of Wumbo?! It’s 1st grade, you guys!
Mzingo: Can you take hats in a dignified, classy, and sophisticated manner?
Chungu: You mean like a weenie? Okay! (in a funny and somewhat baby-like voice) May I take your hat, sir? May I take your hat,sir? May I-(Mzingo puts his hand on Chungu’s mouth)
Mzingo: Alright, that’s enough.
Chungu: (raises paw) Is mayonnaise an instrument?
Ushari: No, Chungu, mayonnaise is not an instrument
(Chungu raises his paw again)
Ushari: Horseradish is not an instrument either...
Scar: People talk loud when they want to act smart, right?
Kenge: CORRECT
Tamka: Well who cares about a stupid reptile?
Kiburi: *pissed off* Gee Tamka, it seems you would care a lot about stupid reptiles CONSIDERING YOU ARE ONE!
Nduli: (sliding downhill) Hey guys! Watch me do “The Grouchy Kiburi”!
Kiburi: Stop naming moves after me!
Nduli: (mimicking Kiburi) Everybody’s an idiot except for me
Kiburi: Well it’s true
Mzingo: Could you not stand so close? You’re making me claustrophobic
Chungu: What does that mean?
Cheezi: It means he’s afraid of Dandy Claws
Mzingo: No, it doesn’t!
Chungu: Ho ho ho! *laughs*
Cheezi: Stop it, Chungu! You’re scaring him!
Cheezi: 🎶Janja is the best uncle in the world!~
Janja is my best friend in the Outlands!
Janja-🎶
Chungu: (interrupting) 🎶Likes Chungu more than Cheezi!🎶
Human au
Kiburi: Okay, “insert rod support A into Slot B”
Janja: That’s what-
Kiburi: If you say “That’s what she said” one more time, I’m going to pop you.
Mzingo: Janja, what happened?
Janja: I’m sick. (coughing badly) Remember that time you dared me to lick the swingset?
Mzingo: No, I said “Janja, DON’T lick the swingset” and then you told me “Don’t tell me what to do!” and then you licked the swingset
Janja: *about some random animal* Tell him off, furbrain!
Cheezi: That’s my ice cream cone!
Janja: Great! Now let him have it!
Cheezi: You can have it :)
Cheezi: Psst, Chungu…I thought of something funnier than 24
Chungu: Let me hear it
Cheezi: 25
Chungu and Cheezi: *snickering*
Cheezi: “Chungu, you’re a genius!”
Chungu: “Yeah, I get called that a lot.”
Cheezi: “What? A genius?”
Chungu: “No, Chungu
Goigoi: Remember, licking doorknobs is illegal on other planets.
Nduli: Wow, Tamka, I didn’t know you spoke bird
Tamka: No, Nduli, that’s Italian.
Nduli: I know who owns this river, I just can’t place the name….
Hatari: *suddenly arises from the water, bellowing at Neema* AAAAAAAAOOOOOOOAAAUUUGHHH
Nduli: *oblivious* No no, it’s not GAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOAAAUUUGGHHHH
#this is the fifth one right?#i’m having too much fun with these#also most of them are spongebob quotes hghghg#tlg outlanders#the lion guard
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please excuse me and my slut behavior, but what are your thoughts on &team and nipple play?
&team and nipple play [Headcanon]
[♡] &team legal line x Afabreader
[♡] Contain: smut, nipple play, perv ej, lactation kink (Nicholas), protected sex ♡
[♡] hope enjoy ♡
[♡] this is +18 content and purely fictional, not intended to offend anyone. read with descriptions. Minors do not interact.
K
You must already be having sex
Or sharing a very intimate moment for K to show his true face
Usually he's not one to say anything, about his obsession
But let's say you're doing something
He's right inside you
As you ride him
You already out of your breath moaning to the four corner
And then he remembers what he has in his hand,
because K likes to piss you off.
Soon he is well aware and twisting your nipples over his fingers without any mercy
wanting to torture you
So he can feel inside
You pulsing around his dick and take all your posture
"So you like it, huh?"
Then focus all attention on the stimulus in that region,
playing with mouth and fingers
Biting around the entire region of your ribcage
Marking only to return to your nipples and enter the greatest delicacy in your movements
"Can you come with just that?"
Yes, you can do it and as he is very smart, he took great care with his movements
Assisting all your pleasure that arrived quickly
FUMA
Fuma has his methods
If he wants to convince you to have sex with him
He will start sucking on your tits
Because it is a sensitive region
Because he loves to suck your nipples
And because it is a technique that never fails
It always starts out very simple
He comes to you like someone who doesn't want anything
While you're on your phone
Fuma comes and lies down beside you
He slides a hand under your shirt and cups one of your breasts.
You usually think it's for comfort
Sometimes Fuma does this when he's bored
But he interested in something else start stroking the region
Squeezing against his hand
Soon using thumb and forefinger to play with your nipple
"F-Fuma…" you're trying not to moan but he's into it
He just looks at you and smiles all cute as he is and lifts your shirt
just enough to let your breasts show
Taking your attention away from the phone
Placing himself between your legs for greater comfort so he doesn't take long to find his fingers with the other nipple.
So he can now focus his mouth on the other
Circling the beak with the tongue, sucking right after
You are a little confused, feeling the stimuli strongly
Moaning softly for the moment and feeling his growing erection leaning close to your intimacy because he was right above,
Playing with your nipples
NICHOLAS
Talking about Nicholas and his needs confuses me.
Because I have two views about him and I don't know which would be the most correct to quote
he is very messy
which ends up putting in my head that he would love a s/o that releases milk from the breasts
Because then he could make a total mess of squeezing and sucking your tits
Nicholas likes this, this more unfiltered sex
Rough? Yes that's right
He could do this regardless of whether you are having sex or not.
Nicholas likes the feeling of being able to play with your boobs
and still have the happiness of receiving milk in return
So it turns out that he won't leave you alone for nothing
Completely addicted to picking you up from any corner of the house and squeezing you, playing
Hope you like this a lot
because he loves
Nicholas can't help but get hard listening to you moan or squirm under his touch.
If you happen to be a parent and then he suddenly sees your shirt wet from leaking milk
"Oh please y/n I'll be kind..." ; "Nicho is for my babie.." ; "your babie don't will drink all this...I'm begging"
Get ready he's going to go crazy
As if hypnotized and then beg to suck them
So solve your problem.
EJ
Euijoo, this man is a pervert
He can't even contain just looking at your nipples
Or breasts showing on the shirt
He gets hard easy
Even more so when it comes to your boobs
Everything he wants to do he always keeps it very deep in the back of his mind.
Euijoo likes to look at you
Even before you allow such an act
He already dreamed of playing with your nipples madly
And when the opportunity arises to touch you
He feels like he might fall lifeless to the ground
His touches are simple
Euijoo likes to feel everything with clothes on first
Touching you like this is part of his process
As soon as the person's clothes are removed,
he feels like he is in heaven.
fixed
Being so gentle by twisting your nipples
"Euijoo baby, you put your mouth if you want"
Then he might want to cry
Pale for the opportunity to be able to suck your nipples
The delicacy besides being a good stimulus makes you tickle
What ends up getting good reactions from you
Something that pleases him a lot, because hearing you moan or make any unusual sound
just to inspire him
Ej treats every time like it's the first time
He takes as much as he can of all your flavor
#kpop hard hours#kpop smut#&team smut#&team hard hours#k smut#fuma smut#Nicholas smut#ej smut#k hard hours#fuma hard hours#nicholas hard hours#ej hard hours
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Please share your reasoning when you get a chance on why you don't believe Theresa Longo Fans. Granted, they have been wrong before.
So the TL;DR of it is:
They're anonymous journalists and that's suspicious.
They haven't updated their brag sheet in 6 years, which means they haven't had a good source in 6 years.
They plagiarize almost everything.
They use vague language and broad generalities in their scoops that lets them take credit no matter what happens.
Keep reading for the longer explanations.
1. I'm always immediately suspicious of anyone in journalism that doesn't use their name. When a journalist is anonymous, especially when they have no need to be like in TLF's case, it's not easy to hold them accountable to lies and mistakes. The two guys behind TLF like to brag about their journalism credentials, and that's huge because there's no way to follow up to make sure they are who they say they are. They rely on "just trust me" authority, and when has that ever worked out? Especially with blind gossip sites (in addition to TLF, this includes CDAN, Blind Gossip, DeuxMoi, and Exposing SMG), you can't verify the accuracy of what they post - especially when you consider that CDAN, Enty, and DeuxMoi all admitted they make stuff up.
(And also ExposingSMG rarely has new information when it comes to the BRF. (They might have sources for other celebs, but I don't pay attention close enough.) Specifically, they just repeat what was being discussed on the blogs and reddit, calling them "my source" so they don't have to cite. BTW, ExposingSMG has since rebranded as Scandalous.Media. They posted about the Sussexes recently and some of their quoted sources or "revelations" are things that have been around for awhile. This one in particular I think is a combination of info from CDAN and SMM.)
I saw somewhere once that the TLF guys don't share their names so they can protect the privacy and confidentiality of their sources. But I call BS. If journalists needed anonymity to protect their sources, then why aren't more journalists reporting anonymously? These two guys are the only people I know that calls themselves journalists who do this, and to me that is suspicious. (Exceptions only for reporters in war zones.)
2. Look at the scoops they take credit for in their pinned tweet: Sussex baby #1, Khloe Kardashian's pregnancy, Kylie Jenner's baby, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's divorce, Megxit, Wendy Williams's show demise, and the Pulse/Orlando nightclub shooting. What these all have in common is that they are events from 2016 - 2019. Meaning they had really good sources, contacts, and access 6-8 years ago. And that list not having anything more recent suggests they don't have the kind of sources, contacts, and access anymore. If they did, and if they were still getting the same sort of accurate scoops that they were 7 years ago, this list would be updated to inclde those more recent events. Why haven't they?
Now, that's not to say they never had good sources. They did have good sources, and whoever it was, their information was solid enough that it upset Meghan enough to get Bouzy to take TLF down. That doesn't really mean anything because a broken clock is still correct twice a day.
3. The tweets themselves are problematic. In fact, most of them are plagiarized.
If there's a direct quote in the tweet, it's plagiarized from some other source/news media and TLF never cites the source. For example, this TLF tweet from January 8th:
It implies that they've interviewed Dominic himself. But they never spoke to Dominic. The quotes come, verbatim, from this January 6th article published by The Mirror.
And for tweets without a direct quote in it, they usually try to pass it off as their own scoop but nine times out of ten, it isn't. For example, this tweet:
It looks like a good scoop. At face value, it is: they know someone who saw Shia at church and connected one plus one.
But #1, when you search "Actor Shia LaBeouf appears to have converted to Catholicism after being seen at a New Year's Eve Mass presided over by Capuchin Franciscan friars," this article from the Associated Press on December 31st comes up:
Almost everything they publish is like this. Go ahead - choose any tweet, copy the text into a search engine, and see what happens.
And #2, look at their verbiage. Specifically, the phrase appears to have in the Shia tweet above. This is how they get away with passing off their stories as scoops, with vague verbage that could go either way. That way, when an article is later published about it, they can grab the "original" tweet and claim credit with "as we told our followers back in..." or "no surprise to our followers..." tweets.
*******************************
Now, specific to royal-watching: they completely and totally missed the ball on big stuff (like Platinum Jubilee and Coronation appearances), but they got it on the smaller stuff (Spare and Frogmore). But the kicker is that the smaller stuff is things that were either written about by royal reporters or was plausible gossip floating around the royal fandom.
The things they were wildly wrong on - for instance, the children being on the balcony at the Platinum Jubilee and the royals hosting a birthday party for Archie after the coronation - were things that came directly from Meghan's PR. So either they didn't realize it was Meghan's PR or they decided to hedge their bets and post it anyway on the off-chance it happened, which I think is in poor taste but it makes for very fun entertainment.
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you are the only correct portrayal of rufuss on the internet. need more toxic horse yaoi where rufioh isnt the toxic one (why would you do this)
That's a pretty big compliment, thx! Yeah what I love about them is how bad they are as partners. Rufioh has his obvious flaws, but wanting to leave a relationship with someone he's fallen out of love with isn't one of them. Horuss is also flawed, one of the more notable traits being his selfishness and how that affects his relationship. Horuss continues to elongate something that should've ended sweeps ago, and Rufioh's feeble attempts at ending things is a great recipe for a (admittedly tame) disastrous matespritship. It seems like communication is an entirely foreign concept to them, and Horuss' new behavioral change (thanks to his moirail who he's not even truly pale for) just makes it worse. Rufioh avoids conflict and confrontation like the plague, and Horuss pretends everything is just peachy. It's great, honestly.
To sum up how crappy Horuss is at romance (quoted from a blog whose url I can't remember please forgive me): "Horuss is so "rarely able to maintain close relationships so any time he manages to bond with someone he gets overly attached to the point where the stability of his mental state is dependent on that relationship" coded. This ties in nicely with his very explicit "lacks a sense of identity (largely due to issues relating to his also-very-blatant dissociative disorder but that's a topic for another post) so he obsesses over his relationships with other people to make himself feel more 'complete' without actually making any effort into those relationships beyond a performative surface level" storyline"
Rufioh, on the other hand, is a good example of what a manchild is. He takes no responsibility for his actions and is actively terrible to the people closest to him behind their backs (in a very bland, douchebag-ey way). He's obviously very flippant, and his methods of keeping things peaceful without rocking the boat aren't always a good thing. He literally just rolls over on his back and lets shit happen because he refuses to put his foot down (interestingly enough both guys have an issue with acknowledging things. Surely this isn't bad for the relationship...)
So yeah, together, they're pretty awful lmfao, but nothing is ever black and white. Neither of them are innocent in this, and they're both to blame, but that's why I enjoy it so much.
But then again, all the dancestors are bad people and they're only friends with each other because no one else likes them (they don't even like each other), so even if Rufioh and Horuss broke up and sought out another romantic partner within their friend group, I doubt it'd turn out well I'm still going to ship rufuss and croruss though idc
#txt#sorry for any grammatical inconsistencies it's hard to inconspicuously type on my phone in church#if anyone else has anything to add or dispute please add on I love talking abt them
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I finally remembered to Mich post at a convenient time. (Get it? Mich post? Sounds like shit post?)
Mich is an OC I created with @callofdooty and he is a massive meme! Half of the shit we gave to him character-wise was done with the thought "This would be funny." and we were 1) Right 2) Also somehow added depth+feels to it.
Mich, pronounced like Mitch, is actually named Michael. Full name, Michael Rorke. And he is Gabriel Rorke's older brother. Oh no, there's two of them! *Screaming*
(Credit to Doot for naming him, the genius.)
Read more insert/cut off due to length
Mich and Gabe grew up in a classically patriotic household, and were pretty close siblings, even with the latter having a temper for everyone. (Mich has a scar on his chin/side of his mouth because Gabe whipped a rock at him once.) Unfortunately, Mich was a bit of a black sheep and felt he didn't really fit in with his family, for various reasons. So once he could leave, he did, and just never really looked back. Which left Gabe feeling abandoned.
(Mich's reasons range from not vibing with his parents authoritarian structure to being queer+trans and them not really being the best people to support that.)
After he was out of the house Mich went on to live his best life. He is best described as an anarchist weed-head woods-hermit survivalist. Quite the description! My favorite idea for him was that he'd live in "No Man's Land" post ODIN because the only government presence is the military, who doesn't really bother with random people in the woods.
Here's where the depth comes in: We decided the reason Gabe is the way he is, Americas ugliest lap-dog, is because he was upset with Mich for leaving and more or less rebelling against him for it. (I have a quote to sum it up "Rebellion for Mich was running away from their parents. Rebellion for Gabe was running away from Mich.") Mich didn't really intend to abandon Gabe, it's more or less something that happened and only tried to correct once they were both adults. (Which didn't really work out well. Gabe is very iffy with him.)
Now there's not a lot more to his "canon" because he just gets tossed into various scenarios and then reacts, but I do have a list of what are more-or-less "fun facts" about him.
Mich fun facts:
-Isn't bald, unlike Gabe, but does keep his hair on the shorter side.
-Regularly dyes his hair random colors and patterns, the latter of which he free hands. (Has never in his life set foot in a salon. Somehow hair hair isn't crunchy.)
-Likes to use "Pal" and "Little buddy" whereas Gabe is always using "Jr" and "Kid"
-Wrinklier and smilier version of his brother. They look hella alike, to the point that he wigs Hesh out when they first meet.
-100% can and will adopt Hesh. That's his lil guy. Logan is not exempt from this either.
-Has zero problem with Gabe joining the Federation. Is more upset about the whole "Murdering his homoerotic "best friend" and traumatizing both his sons" thing.
-Fluent in Spanish+Portuguese.
-Has no formal military training but finds no problem wielding firearms or finding himself in combat. (I mean, he lives in NML. That place always got some kinda battle. You gotta know some fighting skills.)
-Bandannas and cowboy hats are his favorite headgear.
-Keeps photos of him and Gabe on his person.
-Constantly jokes that his full name is actually "Michigan" and that's what "Mich" is short for.
-Performed his own top surgery. /J
-Very laid back personality, though he's smart enough to know when/if he needs to be more serious/strict.
-Incredibly annoyed that Rorke kinda stole their last name like it's his first name.
-Very aware of whatever Elias and Gabe have/had going on. Very amused by it.
-"Protect trans kids" flag in his front room.
-Has multiple spouses. Romantically or just legally has yet to be decided. Not that he'd tell anyone.
-Has kids. Mini Mich's causing chaos. (Just don't ask where the kids came from, mf made them from clay for all we know.)
-Mich and Merrick are besties. (At the very least, Mich is the person Merrick tolerates the most. Outside Hesh.)
-For all the quirks he really is just some fucking guy.
-Daniel and The Cooler Daniel meme.
#call of duty#call of duty ghosts#michael rorke (oc)#gabriel rorke#elias walker#ghost husbands#thomas a merrick#hesh walker#logan walker
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Do You Believe In Ghosts?
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: Your love for each other turns out to be even stronger than you'd ever imagined.
Warnings: fluff, angst, allusions to nsfw content, character death, mentions of death, bittersweet ending
A/N: I wrote this while listening to Ghosts With Heartbeats and Kept (piano only). It was originally supposed to be more of a spooky vibe, but I love how it turned out. I'm also very sorry!
–––––––––––––
Then
It was late October, nearing closer and closer to Halloween each day.
Although you and your lover were on the run, you were still excited for the upcoming holiday.
In fact, the two of you had figured out the previous year that Halloween was even more special on the run, as it was the one night you could go out and do something fun without the fear of being recognized.
Last year, you and Wanda had painted masks together and dressed up as witches, attending a cute little Halloween festival in the small town you were hiding out in at the time. Nat had told all of you to lay low since the Accords, so you didn’t get to take Wanda on all the romantic public dates you had seen in movies.
You still found time to sit outside and stargaze with her whenever you had the luxury of staying in a woodsy cabin. Sometimes you’d put together picnics and watch sunsets or walk along the edge of a nearby lake. Other times the two of you would sit on the front porch and look at constellations.
It was under a bright, star-filled sky that you first told Wanda you loved her.
“That’s Mars,” you’d said, pointing. “You can tell because it’s bigger and a little more red than the others.”
“Wow,” Wanda had replied, staring up at the sky curiously. “My little astronomer,” she teased you.
“Former astronomer,” you corrected, playing along. “What’s the point of studying the sky when the most beautiful star is right next to me?”
Wanda had laughed at that, throwing her head back as blush rose to her cheeks. You’d never get tired of that sound, music to your ears. “You’re so cheesy,” she’d said, still giggling.
“No, I just love you.”
It was the first time you’d said those words to her, to anyone really. But it didn’t feel as scary as you’d expected. It came out so naturally you knew in that moment you were fated to tell her you loved her over and over again for the rest of your life.
Wanda was shocked, her mouth agape. She knew she was falling in love in a way she’d never been lucky enough to experience before, but she hadn’t expected you to say it so easily.
She knew she loved you, but it hadn’t occurred to her that you could love her back. Lagos and the Accords had only reinforced that feeling within her, that she was hard to love.
After her parents died, Pietro was the only person left who really cared for her and he was taken away from her too. The Avengers had welcomed her slowly but she knew she got off on the wrong foot with over half of them and it was during her first few weeks at the compound that she learned what it felt like to be truly, painfully alone.
Until you came along, insisting on bothering her more than she could bear; you made sure she ate, came running in when she had loud nightmares, and let yourself in to watch sitcoms with her. As much as she had pretended to be annoyed or asked to be left alone, she really enjoyed your company and your comfort.
“What is grief if not love persevering?” You had said to her one night. It was something you read once in an article by a grieving writer, L. Shaw, about dealing with loss. At the time, that one quote had single-handedly helped you get over the death of your mother in the New York attack. So you passed it on to Wanda, who your heart ached for.
You and Wanda became close at the compound. When Lagos happened, you let her sob into your shoulder, holding her tight and fighting back your own tears at hearing her pain so close to your heart.
When the Accords threatened to split up the Avengers, you were torn. You didn’t care about signing a legal document as much as you cared about the team staying together. Steve tried to convince you that the Accords would destroy the team and Nat tried to convince you that cooperating was the only way to salvage the team.
At the end of the day it didn’t matter what the right choice was. Your only goal was to make sure Wanda got out unscathed.
She almost looked betrayed when you didn’t fight with her, but she understood later on when you were helping break her out of prison. When you opened her cell and removed her restraints, she kissed you for the first time. You were taken aback, but you reciprocated the kiss, knowing that your life of being a fugitive now was worth it as long as you were a fugitive with her by your side.
Since then, you’d been on the run. Hotels, motels, cabins; you and Wanda explored the world together and made love in every city.
Summer of your second year on the run turned into fall, leaves on trees browning and decorating the ground. A cozy inn in London was your temporary home for the month of October, the two of you growing excited to celebrate another holiday together. You’d borrowed a few scary movies from the lobby and brought them back to your room, watching them together as you drank pumpkin spice lattes made not with a Keurig but with Wanda’s alluring magic.
Wanda had resented her powers for some time, but you encouraged her to practice so she could learn to control them better. Over time, it was working and she wasn’t sure whether to be proud of herself or simply grateful for you.
You made a habit of kissing the palms of her delicate hands, showing her you loved every inch of her, even the parts she found herself doubting, the ones that had caused so much destruction in the past.
Wanda was curled up beside you, resting her head on your chest as another cliche haunted house movie played on the TV set.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” you asked her, your hands idly playing with her auburn hair, soft under your fingertips.
Wanda hummed thoughtfully for a minute before answering. “Well, we live in a world where I can move things with my mind and you’re a super soldier… and we’re on the run from authorities because we didn’t sign a set of laws for superheroes. So are ghosts really out of the question?”
“You make a good point,” you said, chuckling at her adorable way of explaining her logic.
“Do you not believe in them?” she asked, looking up at you.
“Not really, I think there’s a difference between the superhuman and the supernatural, if that makes sense,” you mused.
“Okay, and what about magic?”
“That’s different, you’re just special, my little witch.”
She giggled, amused.
“One of a kind," you murmured, kissing her forehead. "My miracle."
She smiled. “You know you don’t have to keep trying to woo me, detka, I’m already yours.”
You frowned at that. “Just because you’re mine doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be wooed. Are you complaining?”
“No, no, definitely not,” she responded. “I like it, it’s cute.”
“That’s what I thought.” You both laid there quietly for a moment, the sound effects from the movie the only thing to be heard in your room. “I don’t think I want to believe in ghosts,” you mumbled, not sure if you were talking to her or yourself at this point. “I’d like to think that if they were real, I would have gotten to say goodbye to my mom after she passed. Like she would just… appear at the end of my bed and tell me everything was gonna be okay during those months when my grief for her almost swallowed me whole.”
Wanda softened at this, all too familiar with grief herself. She paused before saying anything back.
“Maybe it doesn’t work like that…” You looked down at her, those twinkling green eyes staring up at you. “Maybe some people pass over to the other side right away and others get stuck here.”
You pondered her words, appreciating her input and giving her a soft smile to let her know.
The two of you laid there, your fingers continuing their tender movements against her scalp, the movie still playing in the background. “Or maybe they just aren’t real,” you said so bluntly that Wanda erupted in laughter and you couldn’t help but join her.
Halloween eventually rolled around and the two of you had a wonderful evening walking down the streets of London dressed as ghosts - sheets with eye holes cut out that you hoped the innkeepers wouldn’t notice.
Now
Five years.
It had been five years since Thanos snapped away half of the universe’s population. You wouldn’t have known it was that long if Clint hadn’t told you, because for you it felt like minutes. In Wakanda, on the battlefield, you had turned to dust and ceased to exist. You wondered if you should’ve stayed that way.
Two weeks.
It had been two weeks since Bruce snapped everyone back and you’d all fought Thanos side by side and, despite some heart-wrenching losses, you’d won. Thanos was gone, the universe was safe for now, and everyone was reunited with their lost loved ones.
Everyone but you.
Five years.
It had been five years since Wanda sacrificed herself to save you.
You tried to stop her, but no matter how strong the super soldier serum had made you, you were no match for her powers holding you back. You begged and pleaded, asking her why. You never got an answer. With tears in her eyes, all she said was “I just love you.” The exact words you’d said that night under the stars when you made her feel like the luckiest girl alive.
The compound was destroyed and all you had left of Wanda was a few of her rings she had let you wear.
It was summer when your life became a shell of its former self, when you lost the one piece that kept your puzzle together.
The last “home” you and Wanda had shared before the attack was a nice lofty space in Scotland. Scotland had felt the most like home, partially because it was the city in which you had purchased Wanda’s engagement ring, which you never got a chance to give to her.
The two of you had made plans for the day you would finally be able to stop running. You bought a house together in a town called Westview. You promised Wanda that there, in that house, you’d grow old together, maybe even raise a couple of children.
You kept the deed as a reminder of your “someday” and you hid the engagement ring in its beautiful velvet box in one of your coats, the same coat you wore the night of the attack.
You were going to propose in Scotland.
After a long evening of exploring each other’s bodies up in your shared room, you’d gotten dressed and walked the dimly lit streets with her. It was late enough that no one was out and about to potentially blow your cover. It was quiet and peaceful as you strolled along the road, your right hand in hers and your left fiddling with the ring box in your pocket.
Before you could get down on one knee, there was a fight.
You remembered Wanda tending to your wounds as you clutched your side. Worry filled her eyes so you cracked a joke.
“I’m beginning to think we should’ve stayed in bed.”
Your words brought a suggestive smile to Wanda’s face.
Now it only brought tears to your eyes. Maybe if you had stayed in bed, things would’ve been different.
You found yourself checking into the same room that was your last with her; the last place you had touched her, the last place you had held her in your sleep, the last place you had kissed her hands and told her that everything about her was perfect to you.
Just walking into the room felt heavy. Sobs threatened to rack through your body at the mere sight of the window where she’d kissed you when you got the call that the house in Westview was yours.
Then
“Thank you for letting me know,” you said into the phone, before hanging up and turning towards Wanda.
She was already looking at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, almost frantic with anticipation.
“It’s ours, baby,” you told her, unable to contain your overjoyed smile and tearful laughs any longer.
“Oh my god,” she breathed out, her eyes wide and mouth curving up into a radiant smile. She squealed with excitement and practically jumped on you, her arms wrapping around you tightly. She buried her face in your neck, squeezing you so hard you couldn’t breathe.
When she finally pulled back, she brought your lips together in a loving kiss, lips and teeth colliding messily as you both giggled into each other’s mouths.
You broke the kiss when you tasted salt, noticing tears streaming down her face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You brought your hands up to cup her cheeks, your thumbs brushing away the wetness on her face.
“Nothing, I’m just…” Wanda shook her head, collecting herself. “I’m happy. We’re gonna have a home, a real home,” she paused, looking down. “Someday.”
You could tell her emotions were mixed. She was giddy over the purchase of the house and the idea of living there with you, but uncertain if that day would ever come. It had been two years of running and hiding and while you both enjoyed every moment of being together, there was still a longing for something more.
“Baby, look at me.” Her eyes, vibrantly green from the salt of her tears, met yours. “I promise… I promise we will move into this house and live a normal life. You, me, maybe even some little ones if you’re up for it.” She beamed at that, her heart beating just a little faster when she imagined you raising a family together. “I don’t know when, but we will. This next step for us, buying our future home, is my promise to you. We’ll live in Westview, New Jersey and grow old together like the saps we are.”
She laughed, more tears falling. The embrace you shared until her tears dried was warm and comforting, your hands gently rubbing her back as you stood there with her in front of the window, echoes of light filtering in from the streetlamps and the stars.
Now
You set your suitcase down, not bothering to unpack. Making your way around the room was like walking through a museum of some of your happiest memories.
When you reached the bed, you ran your fingers along its surface, desperately trying to visualize you and Wanda lying there, limbs tangled beneath the sheets as you talked, watched movies, read to each other, and shared kisses and tender touches.
Late nights spent talking about your dreams, early mornings where you woke her up with your mouth between her legs, lazy afternoons where you binged sitcoms and watched Wanda practice her magic. You remembered how amused you were when Wanda served you both tea with her magic during a Bewitched marathon, wanting to imitate a scene from the show.
You hadn’t even noticed you were crying. You brought a hand up to wipe away the tears before crawling into the bed, what used to be your side when there were two of you instead of one. You buried your face in the pillows, your heart breaking even more when none of them smelled like her shampoo anymore. You knew with all the time that had passed and different people who had probably stayed here they wouldn’t, but it still hurt.
You stayed there for three weeks, hoping to no avail that it would make you feel closer to Wanda. Everything reminded you of her but nothing eased the aching tension in your chest. She was gone.
On your second to last day there, you were searching through your suitcase for another travel-size mouthwash when something fell from one of the pockets.
The deed.
The house in Westview.
Your shoulders deflated, a knot forming in your throat. You’d been avoiding even so much as looking at the piece of paper since losing Wanda. If you couldn’t live there with your love, you weren’t sure you wanted to live there at all.
At the same time, it also felt horribly wrong to sell the property that was supposed to be your happy ending. Wanda’s happy ending.
You sat on the floor for what felt like hours trying to decide what to do. You hadn’t wanted to think about it, your heart was too broken to take on anything else, but you couldn’t ignore it forever.
Then
Wanda had just finished crying into your shoulder, her sobs dying down into sniffles. Losing Pietro had taken a toll on her and you were willing to bet if you hadn’t stolen one of Stark’s suits to save her from the flying wreckage that was once Sokovia, she would’ve let herself die.
It made you sad to see her hurting so much, even though you barely knew her. Just ten days ago she was trying to invade your mind to help Ultron and now you were comforting her through the loss of her brother.
“What do you want most in life? For the future I mean,” you asked, breaking the silence. “Like, what’s your dream life?”
Wanda didn’t respond right away, caught off guard by your question and having to think hard about her answer. She wasn’t sure why you’d asked her that, especially now. If she ever asked you, you would’ve told her. You'd wanted her to think of something that would make her happy so she would at least have a temporary reprieve, if only for a few minutes, from the sadness threatening to drown her. A calm moment to take a breath before the waves came back.
“A nice house in one of those small towns where everyone knows each other,” she started, sharing her fantasy with you. “A loving husband… or wife.” Your heart skipped a beat when she added on that last part and you couldn’t explain why. “I don’t know if I want kids. Maybe. I’d want to be ready… so I could give them the kind of love my parents gave me and Pietro before-” she paused, swallowing. “Before we lost them.” The words came out almost in a whisper, as if saying it louder would make it more real.
“I’m sorry, Wanda,” you replied gingerly, wondering just how much the little witch had really suffered in her life. “I lost mine too.”
She moved away a little to look at you. “Really?”
“Yeah, I didn’t really know my dad, but I was close with my mom,” you explained. “She was killed in the New York attack. I wasn’t with her when it happened, we’d gotten separated in all the commotion.”
Wanda softened as you opened up to her. “I’m sorry too.” Silence fell over the two of you before she spoke again. “What’s yours? Your dream life?”
You chuckled. “I’m living it.”
Her face crinkled up in confusion.
“I’m an Avenger. I get to save the world and try to stop other people from losing their loved ones like you and I have. I used to want to travel and now I get to do it a lot, albeit in a much different way than I expected, usually when lives are at stake.”
“Is that all you want from life?”
Her question made you think. You hadn’t spent a lot of time picturing your life beyond working with your team, your newfound family in a sense. “I don’t know… I wouldn’t mind falling in love, having someone to share it all with, but our world isn’t that safe. Neither is being an Avenger. Any day could be your last. It’s a heavier burden to carry when you have something to lose or someone else has you to lose.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that the point of everything? Having something to lose is what makes life meaningful,” Wanda said absentmindedly, not realizing that she’d just given advice to herself as much as you.
You didn’t want to call her out on it, afraid of upsetting her with the reminder of all she’s lost.
“Aren’t I supposed to be the one comforting you?” You joked, earning a genuine laugh from her. You were surprised by how much you wanted to hear it again. “So a house and kids - maybe - and a husband… or a wife,” you repeated her words back to her. “That’s really sweet, Wanda. I hope you have that one day.”
Wanda smiled, her heart fluttering for reasons unknown, her tears dry.
Now
Your feet felt as though they were cemented to the ground as you stood in front of your house, deed in hand. It was even more adorable in person, two stories with plenty of windows and the most welcoming front porch. It felt warm and inviting; it felt like a home.
But you didn’t feel joy or relief upon seeing how perfect it was, you only felt the ache of Wanda not being there to see it.
You knew you had to go inside, but it was much harder than you’d anticipated. You had furniture brought in the day prior, giving vague instructions to the movers over the phone. You didn’t want to be involved in the furnishing process, knowing that if Wanda was still around she would’ve enthusiastically decorated the place herself. The two of you would’ve made it special together. Knowing that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to come up with all the wonderful ideas she would, you decided against personalizing the house.
It felt weird to even go inside without her. In your mind, you’d carry her bridal-style from the car to the front porch into your new home. Maybe you’d even be married by then and you’d call it the Maximoff Residence.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry at the thought. You just felt numb.
The numbness stayed with you as you stepped towards the front door, unlocking it and entering the house emotionlessly, almost robotically.
You walked around, exploring.
You stopped in the living area, imagining you and Wanda on the couch watching The Dick Van Dyke Show with your arm around her. You'd complain about having to sit through the same episodes for the millionth time, but she'd know you were just teasing her and she'd do it back when it was your turn to pick the entertainment.
You made your way to the kitchen, where in a perfect world, you’d wrap your arms around Wanda from behind while she cooked. You’d tell her it smelled amazing and offer to help, but she’d shoo you away or have you do something mundane like chop the vegetables.
You continued your tour of the house, taking note of the different rooms.
You and Wanda would share the master bedroom upstairs, which had its own bathroom attached. You’d read her favorite book while she showered - on the nights where you didn’t join her, if there were any - and when she came out you’d discourage her from even bothering to put on clothes. You’d ravish her right there in your bed until the two of you were too tired to stay awake. And in the morning, she’d put on one of your shirts or sweaters and you’d tell her she looked adorable in your clothes.
One particular room downstairs caught your eye. You knew it would be the perfect nursery. Wanda would pick out a crib and you would insist on building it yourself despite the fact that she could put it together with her magic.
Wanda would be the best mother any child could ask for, you knew it in your heart.
Would’ve been.
Some of the other rooms would later be turned into kids’ bedrooms, depending on how many the two of you decided to have. Maybe Wanda would have twins like her mother did.
You entered the master bedroom and laid down, too exhausted to bring your stuff in from the car. Emotionally, you were torn and confused. This was your home and it almost felt like one. It was absolutely perfect, but the one thing that mattered the most was missing.
Wanda.
Too tired even to mourn her, you fell asleep in what would’ve been your shared bed in your “someday” home.
You stirred at the feeling of something touching your face. In your half-asleep fogginess, you swore it felt like a hand, like fingers softly stroking your cheek.
“You’re here,” a familiar voice said in disbelief. “I missed you detka.”
Your eyes blinked open and your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.
There she was, as beautiful and tangible as you remembered.
“Wanda?” You breathed out, confused. “This is a dream isn’t it?”
“No, my love. You’re awake,” she replied, sitting down beside you, her hand cupping your cheek as she looked down at you. Her eyes were glossy with tears while she studied you longingly as if she hadn’t seen you in years.
“How- how is this possible?” You asked, bringing a hand up to rest it over hers on your cheek, needing to feel her, to know she was real.
“I was right, Y/N. In a world with magic and superheroes, ghosts aren’t totally out of the question.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. She looked and felt so real and if this was a dream you never wanted to wake up.
“But if you’re a ghost… then that means you didn’t cross over or… I don’t know how it works,” you mumbled, trying to put the pieces together.
“Something wanted me to cross over. I could feel the pull, but I fought it. I couldn’t leave you. So I stayed. Somehow my spirit got tied to this house,” she explained. “I guess since we never really settled down anywhere, I was tethered to the one place we always said we would.”
“I still don’t believe I’m not dreaming.”
“You aren’t, moya lyubov, you’ll see. I’ll still be here tomorrow, and the next day, and all the days after.” She moved to lay beside you, propping her elbow on the bed to rest her head in her hand, doting green eyes meeting yours once more. “Whatever was pulling me to the other side gave up a while ago when I kept refusing,” she said, biting back a smile as her hand came up to cup your cheek. “I’m not leaving you again.”
Her words sunk in, finally hitting you, and you couldn’t hold back the desperate sobs that shook your frame. Wanda reached for you, holding you in her arms, whispering comforts and reassurances into the side of your head between kisses. “It’s okay, I’m here now. You’re not alone.”
Her touches felt so real, you weren’t sure how you were making physical contact if she truly was a ghost. She didn’t have a body, just a soul.
But god, the feeling of her arms around you was one you'd missed so dearly that it had been tearing you up inside. You felt safe and loved once again and you didn’t bother to question how she was really there as long as she kept holding you close.
You didn’t know how long you cried against her shoulder, only that every time you breathed in and smelled her perfume mixed with the scent of her skin, you cried harder.
Eventually, you wore yourself out, whispering a broken “please don’t leave” before falling asleep in her warm embrace.
When you woke up the next morning, she was still there - and every day after that.
She never left.
You found yourself finally believing in ghosts.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff angst#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff imagine#kinktober but make it sad#alexa writes
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One For the Road
A/N: Hhhh first thing I’ve finished for a while. I keep losing passion for the things I’m writing but I ended up finishing this at like 5am this morning with the ol listen to a song on repeat non stop trick.
Summary: Finally taking a break from work, Taina finds you having a good time at the organisation's 'unofficial bar'. At the end of the night, the pair of you plan to head home but one quick trip to the bathroom is required.
Word count: 2225
Warnings: Smut
AO3 Masterlist
It wasn't too often that she ended up in The Rec Room anymore. With her position as a squad leader, a lot of her time was spent agonising over details and plans. With Nøkk, Eliza Harry and Jordan all out of the picture there was much heavier pressure on her shoulders. It made sleep harder and the days longer. Yet, with the help of Yumiko, Gustave and Sam it was never too much. Yumiko was a solid strategist who worked well with her. Gustave allowed her work to continue without question or the limelight and then Sam was a rock that ensured that she made the correct decisions.
Sam also happened to be the one that made sure that she had a work-life balance. Which is why she was locked out of her own office. Sure, she could break in if she really tried but Sam gave her that look, one that told her to listen. "Go relax. Enjoy yourself. Working yourself to death isn't going to help anyone."
His words rang in her mind as she entered The Rec Room. It was more of a bar than a proper rec room, certainly not to normal regulation. It wasn't their proper rec room, it just had the same name. It wasn't part of their base, therefore, not against regulation. It was, after all, a public place. A public place that only Rainbow operatives knew about. A secret little underground bar that had plenty of business from them all.
Her first intention had been to hit up the bar for a drink but a group of loud laughter caught her ear. In the almost completely deserted bar, three people seemed to be enjoying themselves by the pool tables.
Ana, Max, and most interestingly, you. Taina's travelled to Ana who leaned against a post. She watched as you and Max dramatically sang and danced to the music. The pair of you seemed like you didn't have a care in the world while Ana was content to enjoy the display.
"I can't get her off of my brain." In a dramatic turn to face Max, the back of your hand flew to your forehead. A pained and closed-eye expression spread across your face. Max braced his hand on the side of the pool table and leaned closer to you. He had a fake shocked expression as he poorly sang the next line.
"I just wanna go to the party she gon' go."
Your hands fell out and your arms flew into a shrug. "Can somebody take me home?"
There was a pause between the pair of you as the song picked up. A devious grin spread across your face, one that was mirrored on Max's.
"Love me, hate me, say what you want about me. But all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy." The pair of you sang off-key at each other and Taina couldn't help the way her lips curled upward at the sight. Her silent footsteps had her approach and at first, only Ana noticed.
"Having fun are they?" Neither of the two women looked at each other.
"They said and I quote 'this is our song', I presume there's more to the story." Ana raised a brow and Taina pressed her lips together.
"It's not one I know."
"Are they like this often? We were playing pool." Ana glanced back to the table.
"All the time, it's one of the reasons they don't get paired up together very often in training."
"Why's that?"
"I imagine in a real scenario they would be fine but in training, they can't take it seriously enough."
"At least they know how to make the mood light." Ana smiled and Taina glanced down for a second.
"Hey, Cav!" Max's voice had you spin around and her eyes snapped up to meet his then yours. Your shoulders dropped and your smile drew into a large grin.
"Taina! You're finally out of your office." Your hand twitched slightly and she could tell that you were itching to hug her but refrained from doing so. You respected her public boundaries.
"I am. Sam made sure of that." Taina pretended to sound annoyed but didn't stop the slight smile on her face.
"Told you she would listen to him." Your hush voice spoke to Max and nudged him with your elbow. Taina raised a brow and you pretended to be innocent.
Taina didn't push the matter. "What are you two drinking?"
"Cranberry juice." You picked the glass off the high-end table next to you and Max showed her his bottle of Corona.
"How 'bout I buy you a drink Boss?" Max asked and Taina shook her head.
"Don't plan on staying too long." Her eyes met yours and the pair of you silently communicated.
"What about a game then? We have been killing Ana." Your hand emphasised your words alongside your voice. When Taina looked towards Ana she recover a shrug.
"They are surprisingly good at the game."
"It's because they spend all their time playing rather than practising." The scold didn't have any venom to it. It was a tease.
"Hey, you're his boss, not mine. I think Yumikos quite happy with my training habits."
Taina rolled her eyes at you and picked up Ana's cue that rest next to her. "Come on then, one game."
-
What started as a lighthearted game turned into something more. Sure, you and Max made a good team but Taina just happened to be good. Really good. What she really focused on though, was the way you bent over that table. Your eyes focused on the ball in front of you. Lined up perfectly, you were almost completely flush against it. With your leg hiked up on the table she got a decent view of your back. Just before you hit the ball, your eyes flicked up to meet hers. Your tongue darted out over your smiling lips.
In that second it seemed like all of eternity, a slow-motion moment that didn't stop. But you continued, with the wink of your left eye time sped up once again. Taina's breath hitched and she watched as you sunk the ball in.
A loud sound came as Max high-fived you. He bent over the table and one by one the pair of you perfected the entire game. A smug smile graced your entire face and your hand slapped into Max's once again. The pair of you pulled into each other and nodded.
"That's how it's done Goose." You laughed and he grinned back at you.
"Sure is." The pair of you basked in your glory before you turned to Ana and Taina.
"Good game ladies, maybe next time there will be a different outcome."
"Uh-huh." Ana folded her arms with doubt.
"Well, that was the one game."
"You off to hit the sack?" Max asked before he took a sip of his drink.
"It's late."
"Gotta get those eight hours of uninterrupted sleep huh?" You teased and licked your bottom lip before you continued. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom and I'll be right with you." The look in your eyes was all Taina needed to know.
"I'll come with you." Her eyes were of a predator and Max shrugged to Ana when the pair of you promptly left the pool table.
"See you later guys!" You waved over your shoulder and slipped off towards the bathroom.
The pair of you had barely stepped into the woman's bathroom before she was on you. Her soft lips pressed against your throat while her palms shoved your shoulders. The force had your back slam against the tiled bathroom wall. A moan escaped your mouth as your head tilted back. Eyes closed, the moan turned into a breathy choke before you swallowed.
Taina's hands found the side of your thighs where she pawed and squeezed at the side of them. Open-mouth kisses continued to litter your neck, she nipped and sucked on the flesh but not hard enough to leave a mark. With a solid grip on your thighs, she pulled them apart and slotted her body in between them. In the same motion, she lift you up off the ground and you automatically wrapped your legs around her waist.
"Is this what you wanted when you got Sam to do your dirty work?" Taina's voice purred out but there was also a slightly aggressive undertone to it.
"I- ngh -genuinely wanted you to take a break. We all did."
"All?" She pressed her clothed cunt against yours. No friction but the pressure started to get to you, joint with the manhandling groping she did on your thighs.
"Me and everyone in Ghosteyes. You come to bed so late and push yourself so hard."
"I always push myself hard." Her lips detached from your throat and made itself up to your ear.
"Yeah, but this is unhealthy hard. You’re just as bad as As-" You cut yourself off and the pair of you stiffened at the thought. "I might not be in your squad or a squad leader but I'm here for you Taina. I miss you." Your head lowered and your pleading eyes met hers. "We're a team." She paused and looked into your eyes.
Taina slowly leaned in, far softer and slower than all her earlier movements. Those soft lips finally graced your own and she poured all her emotions into it. It ramped up and your hand tangled in her hair. That kiss always a promise. Everything that had been building up over all the weeks finally came to a burst.
Your hand tugged at her hair and that was it. She practically growled against your lips and pulled you away from the wall. The cool touch of the sink basin made contact with the bottom of your thighs and Taina pulled away from your body. Your mouth gaped open slightly when she sunk down on her knees. Her hands grabbed the side of your shorts and pulled them down with her, you lift your hips slightly to help. Soon she had dropped your shorts on the floor, her eyes on yours for a moment before her focus was on your cunt before her.
Taina didn't bother to remove your underwear and only pulled them to the side. The cool hair against your cunt had you shiver and you gasped when her tongue ran the entire base against you. From the bottom of your lips to the top of your clit she firmly dragged her tongue against it.
Your hand flew to your mouth to prevent yourself from crying out her name. She had that smug look on her face but didn't repeat the motion. With two fingers Taina pushed your lips open. This time her tongue dipped into your cunt and lapped at your juices. Her mouth pressed against your cunt firmly and she sucked on you before she pulled back.
Caveira lets go of you for a moment and pushed her hair back. She stretched her neck slightly and found her grip on your thighs once again. You watched when she rolled her shoulders and then forced back in.
The tip of her tongue traced the outside of your lips. She dragged it against your entire cunt. The tip of her tongue made little kitten licks against your clit which had you bury both hands back into her head.
You bucked slightly against her mouth and swore out as she alternated between long swipes and more focused smaller ones. Each one firm against your cunt. Her nose pressed against your skin and you leaned against the mirror while she ate you would with everything she had.
One hand let go of your thigh and she pressed two fingers against your now swollen cunt. Already abused from her mouth, she started to rub it in circles. "Taina." Your moan of her name rewarded you with a light bite against the inside of your thigh. She always did love the way you dragged out the end of her name.
"Close aren't you?" Her tongue danced over her teeth with a smile. "Come on, you don't need my permission. Cum for me."
Her eyes stayed on yours as she expertly continued to run your clit. Your face shivered and you bit down on your lips to prevent yourself from crying out. A muffled whimper slipped through as pleasure tipped over the scales and you moved your hips against her hands. Your thighs squeezed shut and she had to catch them as you came.
"There's a good girl." She let go of your cunt and helped put your underwear back into place. A wet patch soaked through and she stuck her coated fingers into her mouth. With a humm, she sucked on your taste. "I'm sorry for making you miss me." Taina rose to her feet and nestled her way against you. The pal of her hand slapped against the mirror and she leaned in.
A slow wet kiss full of tongue shared with you, her tongue licked against your own and you could taste yourself on her. "I'll make it up to you." She promised and you let out a little whine.
"I want you to look after yourself." You murmured against her lips, only barely disconnected.
"Two birds one stone."
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Under the mistletoe
Ajax x reader
(This takes time during around Christmas of course)
(I also have zero clue if I got his personality correct. I did the personality based on what fanfics had and what I could remember from the show. So sorry If it's wrong)
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Plot (delete after writing)
He takes the chance (with consent) and kisses you confesses and vulnerable state. And it's all fluff.
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You were humming to the song playing through your f/c headphones. You favorite song blasting as you finnish up an essay you had for history. Your f/c sweater was soft to your skin as you click enter on the computer and close it. You take your foot to the beat of the song and get up from you chair.
Your room-mate had left to hangout with their friends so you had the whole room to yourself.
You continue to do your own thing, humming to the song and doing a little dance or two. That was, until a familiar knocking pattern on the door startled you. You pause you music and jog over to the door. You swing the door open and a smile grows on your face. Ajax, (your sweet boyfriend) smiles at you and hands you your favorite flower (_____). You can see one of his snakes trying to slyther on out of his purple benie. Ajax notices and quickly moves it back in before anything could happen. You happy inspect the flowers beauty.
"It's almost a pretty/handsome as you."
Your face heatens up at what ajax said. His face beams red and what he said too. You take his hand and the coldness felt nice to your warm/cold hands. You tugg him in your dorm and hug him. He wraps his arms around your torso and leaned his head on your shoulder/head (depending on how tall you are). You bury your head into the nap of his neck/his chest. (again, on how tall you are). You two stay like that before you let go. You smile and take in all his features. From his moles to his dark chocolate brown eyes. You hear him say something bit you were preoccupied by looking at his beauty. You hum in response.
"Did you even hear me?"
"..yes"
You hesitated at your answer because you aren't the best at lying (if you are, im sorry)
"I said" ajax says before quoting what he said before.
"You you want to walk around outside and look at the lights and stuff?"
You smiled and didn't have to think twice.
"Yes."
°♡°
You were an 'aw' with all the lights and decorations that filled the school halls. Some blue and white and others rainbow. Colors fill the building. Few students pasted the halls since it was close to 'bedtime'. Some went all out and others did very few. But it all still looked great.
You and ajax finally made it outside. Snow was falling slowly and landed on your heads. You jog up a head to a bush and croched down. Ajax looked at you confused some he joined you at the bush. His eye immediately see why you were over here. A baby deer and their mother where sleeping peacefully in the snow. The mother woke up to the sound of you trying to make ajax quietly aproch and the mother deer stared at you two. In curiosity, you reach your hand out. She sniffs your hand and starts to lick you hand in likeness. Axaj stares in 'aw' at you and the deer. You slowly back up from your spot and ajax does the same.
The mother stares with her black eyes as you and ajax leaves and goes back to sleeping with here baby.
Once you and ajax were far enough, you start gushing. Like a bomb that has exploded.
"Omg, did you see how cute the were! The mother was so kind. I want a deer as a pet."
You continue rambling on and see to not notice ajax looking at you and your lips. He melts at your fondness of the deer and he smiled. A big wide one. You know, the one where almost nothing could erase it. Yea, that one. You make a big circle around the school and make it back to where you started. But something seemed different. A two green leaf decoration hanged from the entrance ceiling. Ajax was the first to notice. His face grew bright red at the sight. He knew that wasn't there before so someone must of put it there after he and you walked around the school.
'I swear to God. If Xavier or one of the girls put it there. Their gonna get it'
He slows down to a stop and if confuses you. You look at him. You h/c hair full of snowflakes. You s/c glowing due to the lights lighting it and snow melting on it. You looked like an angel decent from the heavens (or at least what ajax thought). You had confusion on your face as expected.
"...well-I....um.." was all ajax could sputter up before sighing in defeat. He pointed up and your eyes followed up to the two leafed decoration. You could feel the blood rushing up to your face fast. The awkwardness tension could be cut with a knife. You twirl your coat zipper with your finger.
°♡°
"Ugh! Can't they kiss already?!" Enid says. Using rhe bes of her vision from her balcony as possible. Xavier, Wednesday, Bianca, thing, and Enid (of course) where standing in Wednesday and ends dorm, spying on you and Ajax.
"Calm down. 25 bucks says y/n makes the first move." Bianca says out of boredom. From how much she knew Ajax, you were definitely making the first move.
"I bet Ajax will make the first move. 30 bucks"
"Deal"
°♡°
Ajax takes a deep breath and takes a step in front of you. You look at him. He grabs both of your hands and look at you in the eyes. He slowly move in closer. His eyes flickering up and down from your lips to your eyes. He sighs.
"May I? ..kiss you?"
Small shock fills your eyes but goes away as you nod. Giving permission for ajax to kiss you. He raises his hands to you face and strokes you cheeks with his thumb. You both close the space and kiss.
(I can't writing kissing scenes very well so ignore this whole mess)
You broke apart seconds later. It sadly ended too fast for you liking but you needed to breathe. You smile and lean unto ajax's touch. Ajax wraps his arms around you and and puts his head on your shoulder/head.
You hear shouting from above and look up. You see your friends shouting and making a ruckus from on of the balconies. You feel your body burn with embarrassment. Ajax just laughs and smiles. He grabs your hand again and leads you back to your dorm so you don't get into trouble with curfew. You sigh and try to calm down from what just happened.
'I am so asking what the hell they were doing tomorrow '
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Merry later Christmas and happy new year ✨️🎄
#ajax wednesday#ajax petropolis x reader#x reader#writing#happy new years#merry late christmas#x gn reader#gn reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday show#wednesday addams
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I've seen some people headcanoning Shadow as someone who can flirt pretty well (probably because of his confident and "suave" aura) and some people that headcanon Shadow as a dork who cant flirt to save his life (probably because he is not a very people-person and doesnt know the cues of how to flirt). What do you think? (Personally I think he knows how to flirt, Rouge is his best friend he must have learned something by watching her, he just doesnt bother to flirt. In a Shadamy context, I see Amy as the one that flirts the most)
Aaaah~! XD XD Oh this is fun!
See, I feel the idea of suave Shadow that we see now is echos of the fandom interpretation of him from when they first came out in 2001. It's so interesting to see that make a comeback in today's fandom interpretation! And it's fun! Like, flirty Shadow- it's a fun thought!
The idea of a Shadow who can't flirt I feel came about more recently. I think that was in tandem with the realization of just how socially awkward the poor creature can be, both with themselves and with others.
Both have merit, value, and canon support, in my opinion! As such, I have a tendency to mix the two, sort of like what you did in your own thoughts showcased in your letter! I like the idea of Rouge teaching Shadow how to flirt, but also, I think it's something he'd want to know the mechanics of at least enough so that he could recognize it.
For example- suppose Rouge has, on occasion, gotten randomly close and mildly grabby with Shadow when some other guy is talking to her. Shadow would, naturally, ask her what is going on.
She'd have to explain to him, 'Hey, that guy was flirting with me, and I was trying to find a polite way to get rid of him.'
Shadow would go '???? Doesn't compute. He was just talking. Also, you could absolutely break his limbs if you wanted to, so why hang onto me? You're going to have to explain this."
Thus, he'd be better prepared in the future to recognize the signs of flirting and be able to not mess up Rouge's socially acceptable defensive maneuvers.
(Even if he's more inclined to a direct and memorable approach for teaching the meaning of the word, 'no.')
On the flipside, suppose Shadow has had conversations with people where he feels he's not picking up on something (especially with Rouge laughing behind him.) Shadow might then ask her to explain, which she would, so that he personally would better understand flirting in a context that directly pertains to advances being made at him.
Though these conversations would, one would assume, ultimately help him when he decides to try and romantically pursue someone... I think he'd fall flat on his face.
See, it's hard to force yourself to do something like this if you normally wouldn't. It's hard to force yourself to engage in a manner of communication or social/physical exchange when you don't normally operate in that wavelength. With flirting, Shadow might know what he wants to say, or how he wants to say something, but I think the guy would stumble especially if we're talking this occurring during a time when he's not sure Amy likes him back yet.
I posted about it on my main how I think the humor dynamic between Rouge and Shadow sometimes works in non-stressful situations (read: sometimes, not always), but there's also a quote at 15:52 in the linked video that goes as follows.
"First impressions. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, but you always get a third chance to go take me on a date... sp, it- a spa- spaghetti."
I can't help but think that, at least while practicing alone to ask her out, this is what would happen XD (Can you imagine if this came out of his mouth while talking to her though? Oh no... XD XD XD)
Once they're officially together, though? I think he'd feel much more comfortable flirting, especially if he gets to see Amy blush and laugh.
(There's nothing like the positive reinforcement of making your partner smile.)
Also you are 100% correct about Amy being the more flirtatious between the two. I also do love the idea of her getting thrown for a loop over Shadow's positive reactions to it XD She probably isn't use to that.
Once again though, I'm down for anything if it's written well and in character, always 🖤💖
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Eddie Imagine: Making You Smile
Almost every girl swooned over Jason Carver. He was the most popular guy in school and captain of the basketball team.
Even with all of these qualities, this wasn’t who you had a crush on. No, the guy you had a crush on was called a ‘freak’ and deemed despicable but you found him charming and funny where others didn’t. He had long hair, wore rings, liked rock music, played games, and best of all…had a sense of humor.
Just like any other day Eddie was walking down the hall smiling once he saw you.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Hey, Eddie,” you seemed to squeak back as he walked past. It was always the little things with him.
Sometimes it’d be him opening the door, giving you a ride home, or making a bunch of references you didn’t understand but would smile anyways. He was always so animated and lively that you couldn’t help but love to be around him.
He just radiated good energy.
Despite what people thought, he was a good wholesome guy.
Whenever you were alone and your friends would be somewhere else he’d sit down next to you and keep you company until they came.
If you were having a bad day he’d quote Shakespeare in different funny voices. Whenever the flowers would bloom in Hawkins he’d pick the prettiest one and leave it either in your locker, at your desk, or in your bag. It was always a surprise.
Despite all of these wonderful things that Eddie did, it was never anything more than that. You wanted to take the initiative but always chickened out. It made you feel bad that you never really showed him your appreciation. You didn’t have the confidence like he always seemed to have.
Every night you’d lay in bed and pray and hope and dream that something will happen. Something good. Something more.
It was all the same until one day Eddie stopped by your locker.
“Hey, beautiful,” Eddie smiled putting his hands in his pockets. He always seemed confident and outspoken but right now he looked a bit nervous as he stood in front of you. “I-uh wanted to ask,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he visibly swallowed. “Uhm would you, perhaps, maybe-you can say no. Uh, maybe wanna come see me,” he blinked his eyes, sighing before correcting himself, “me and my band play this weekend?” You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from full-blown smiling. He was being cute. The stuttering and his clear nervousness around you was heartwarming. “You can tell us how we are,” he chuckled then ceased smiling. “So, will you?”
“I will.”
Eddie broke out into a big smile. “Great, that’s...great.” You chuckled at him loving how he was being right now. “I’ll see you then.” He turned down the hallway and you watched him have a little more pep in his step than usual.
“Eddie.” You called out down the hallway.
“Yeah,” he turned around with his full attention on you. “As long as you take me out afterward.”
His mouth opened and closed but no words seem to come out, at least none coherent enough. He still seemed to be processing it all. You walked towards him not caring that people were starting to stare and watch all of this unfold.
Eddie watched closely as you came closer. His eyes were wandering, going from your eyes to your lips when you got closer. So you decided to make his heart race a little more and kissed the corner of his lips. He tensed up almost as if he was holding his breath.
“I’m looking forward to this weekend,” you smiled then turned around smiling like a fool. It happened! You kissed Eddie Munson! He asked you to come see his band play! He was going to take you out!
You were freaking out on the inside. This was a dream. How else can you explain it?
Your racing heart was a reminder that this was all very much real.
You didn’t know where this confidence came from but you were glad that you had acted on it.
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson x you#Eddie Munson x reader insert#Eddie Munson drabble#Eddie Munson Imagine#Stranger Things#Eddie Munson Stranger Things#Eddie Munson one-shot
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