#so landed closer to the 'no idea what's wrong here but it must be some kind of mental affliction' side of things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roosterforme · 27 days

Text

Covering the Classics Part 10 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knew now. She knew all about Bob's poetry and how he thought about her when she wasn't even with him. Instead of it making her timid, she told him she wanted to go to his bedroom. Instead of taking it slow, he took it all the way.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, smut, oral, 18+

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Having Anna in his house again was an exercise in restraint for Bob. When he thought about tracing her freckles with his gaze, he stopped himself. When he wanted to kiss her neck while she stood in front of him while they built the bookshelf, he made sure he did nothing of the sort. It was time to organize his books now, and he had to keep himself focused. When she started to head upstairs toward the bedrooms, he tried his hardest to block out the idea of guiding her to the left and into his room instead of the spare room on the right.

The sway of her hips in her black leggings was so enticing as she climbed the stairs ahead of him. It was taking too much of his willpower to keep from reaching out to touch her, and that's how he responded poorly when she said, You have to tell me why you like poetry so much."

He barely considered his words before saying, "What's not to like? All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."

Anna's steps slowed a little. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"

Oh. Oh no. Nobody knew he spent his free time tapping away at his keyboard, coming up with ideas and letting his brain run wild. And there was no way he wanted Anna to be the one to find out, especially since he'd taken to writing about her.

"Uh. I did. Yeah," he admitted, trying to think of a way to change the subject.

But she was way ahead of him. "What's something you've written?"

Bob laughed and recited a random line that was ambiguous enough for his liking. "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."

Anna was nearly to the landing at the top of the stairs when she twisted awkwardly, turning to look back at him with something akin to panic on her face.

"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her as she sat down hard. He reached out gently, trying to figure out if she was hurt.

"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"

"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her pretty face. "You're Sky Writing."

He froze, vaguely terrified by the knowledge that she was calling him by his pen name. But there was also a small part of him that was thrilled that Anna was the one saying it. Somehow it felt right for a second before it felt very, very wrong. Anna knew what he wrote. Anna knew about his romantic desires. Anna knew about his depraved wants.

"Oh, shit," he whispered as her gaze grew even more surprised.

"It's really you," she moaned softly, licking her lips and tugging him even closer. His knee came down gently on the step as he held onto her ankle, and even though the position had him covering most of her, she must have known she was in charge here. When he nodded, she started to close the distance between their lips as she whispered, "You're incredible."

Bob let his lips slam into hers as she tangled her fingers in his hair. She knew his words, and somehow she was kissing him anyway. In fact, she was wrapping her other ankle his around his waist and pulling him closer. He was certain he'd never kissed anyone on the stairs before. He was certain he'd never had an erection on the stairs before either.

He was very aware of everything right now. The sound of the rain hitting the roof and the windows. The feel of Anna's fingers tugging on his hair. The vibration of her soft moans as she kissed him. The friction between his sweatpants and her leggings.

"Anna," he gasped between kisses, but she was back on him immediately. There was no way she couldn't feel him getting hard. His gray boxer briefs could only do so much to conceal how badly he needed her, but every time he tried to ease his hips back away from her, she dug her heel in harder against his lower back.

When she released his lips, her nose glided along his until she was bumping his glasses. Her breath was soft on his face as she said, "Bob, I want you to show me the romance section in your bedroom. Please."

There was no way he could say no to her ever again.

--------------------------

Anna was shocked. Bob was Sky Writing. The poet of her wildest dreams. The man who wrote so beautifully, she could imagine herself being adored. The man who recently wrote about falling in love with a beautiful woman with intoxicating red hair.

His body was warm and strong over hers, and she wanted him everywhere. Each kiss was more perfect than the last. He told her he kept his romance novels in his bedroom, and she wanted to be treated to the same fate. She wanted to go there. When she told him as much, he started to scoop her up to her feet. In the dim lighting, she could tell his cheeks were flushed pink, and she knew she did that to him.

Bob guided her backwards up to the top step, and she knew he wouldn't let her fall. A few more stumbling steps and they were standing in his bedroom doorway with her hands holding his face and his fingers digging into her hips. "Did you write about me?" she asked softly, afraid he wouldn't be able to hear her over the rain, but too scared to speak any louder. "The new poems about the redhead?"

"I did," he replied without hesitation.

Two words and Anna's hands were trailing down the back of his neck, pulling him closer until they were kissing again. "I want you," she whimpered against his lips. "I've wanted you for months." She was weak. She was so weak for him and the way he smelled and all of his books. His hands tightened around her hips and slid down a few inches until he was holding her in place and slowly grinding his hard length against her.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Anna," he breathed as she kissed the side of his neck. "Since the first time I saw you in the bookstore."

She moaned and let him lift her up by the backs of her thighs and carry her to his bed with her arms tight around his neck. When he sat down, she was straddling his hips, and his sinful gray sweatpants did nothing to hide him from her at this point. He felt huge as she rubbed herself on his cock through all of their clothing. His big hands were up the back of her shirt, and his fingers felt rough on her skin while she licked and kissed her way to his ear.

"Show me the romance," she whispered with a smile.

"Oh. Uh..." He shifted like he was going to move toward the books stacked on his dresser where the soft light from a lamp made the room glow warm. "I have-"

"That's not the romance I want right now," she told him, and in an instant, she was laying on her back with her hands on the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Better?" he asked, running his hands up her sides where her shirt was hiked up, pressing soft kisses to her lips.

"Yes," she promised, spreading her legs wider so he could settle against her core while he pushed her shirt up over her bra. Her nipples were almost painfully hard, and then his fingers found them through the lace. "Bob," she groaned, earning herself his cock pressed to her clit. If he kept it up, she would soak her leggings. His handsome face was hovering above hers, cheeks tinted pink and lips parted, and she arched her back for him when he started to run his fingers to the back of her bra.

It had been so long since anyone touched her intimately, and here she was in a room that smelled delicious like Bob while he deftly unhooked her bra and guided it and her shirt away from her body in one smooth motion. Her body was okay; her boobs were too small, and her belly wasn't flat, but he was looking down at her and taking the time to memorize everything. Then he groaned her name before his lips found the valley between her breasts, and three seconds later she was panting.

She slowly peeled his white undershirt over his head as she could barely focus on anything except his mouth on her nipples. His glasses were crooked on his face when he looked up at her, and he sounded out of breath as she dropped his shirt to the floor. "Anna. What do you want from me?" She answered by rolling her hips up to meet his, and he squeezed his eyes closed as he said, "You want that? Because once I really get going with you, I'm not going to be able to stop."

God, that was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard. She reached down for the front of his pants and tugged at them, letting them slide down his narrow hips. He gasped a few obscenities under his breath, and goosebumps erupted on her skin. Then she slipped her fingers inside his underwear, and she was met with his thick cock.

"Yes, I want that," she promised, looking up at him and his messy hair and perfect face. "I want you."

She yelped as his big hands practically tore her leggings from her body, and then Bob settled in with his broad shoulders propping up her thighs and his mouth ghosting over her pussy. "I want you, too," he whispered before tasting her. One long swipe of his tongue turned into two and then three as she grabbed at his bedding and whined incoherently. "So fucking bad, Anna."

Had anything ever felt this good before? Bob's lips plucked at her clit as he whispered a line from his most recent poem, and she knew she was probably dripping on his bed. His hands were strong on her thighs, keeping her spread open. He buried his face in her pussy, fucking her with his tongue while she rode him. He was Sky Writing. He was Bob Floyd. He was the man her friends knew would be perfect for her from the very beginning. He was making her come.

"Fuck, fuck," she gasped as he sucked a little harder on her sensitive, swollen clit and plunged two fingers inside her. He was a bit rougher than she thought he would be, but somehow this was exactly what she needed. Her tits bounced as he finger fucked her until she got loud, and he circled her with his tongue before swiping it back and forth. He didn't rush it. He drew it slowly from her, just right. And then her orgasm left her with shaking legs and thrusting hips.

The words that fell from her mouth were unintelligible, but she put them together a little bit better as the buzzing in her ears dulled to soft, muffled whir. "Fuck me, Bob."

When he kissed her, she could taste herself. He kept his mouth on hers while he wrestled himself the rest of the way out of his clothing, and then his fingers were stroking her slit, making her shake more. His wet fingers moved to her thigh where he traced a gentle pattern as he said, "All of these freckles. That's all I can think about. The shapes they make when you connect the pretty, little dots. How I could spell out my name with them."

"Oh my god," she moaned. "Oh!" His heavy cock came to rest on her pussy as he continued stroking her skin, and his lips found their way back along her breasts.

"I wondered for months if your shirts were hiding more of them from me. Was dying to know if your tits were decorated as well." He ran his tongue in a lazy circle around one nipple as he grunted. "They are everywhere, and I want to taste all of them."

Anna was going to combust as Bob took a fistful of her red hair and slid himself down to her opening. He pushed himself in an inch, and she was already crying out for more. Another inch, and she was forcing her thighs open as far as they would go. He was licking and kissing her shoulders and collar bones while he slowly filled her until she hiccupped with need. He was so big, stretching her as her hands scrambled on his shoulders. And then he was fucking her, muttering like a mad man about freckles and the color red and how much he wanted her. His muscles rippled with intent beneath her fingers while he moved. This was already the best she'd ever had.

---------------------------

As the rain beat a rushed pattern on the bedroom windows, Bob moved at his own pace, needing this to last as long as possible. She was the woman of his dreams, panting and mewling beneath him as he fucked her. He couldn't keep his lips off of that one freckle next to her right nipple, and he didn't want to. Her skin felt like the smoothest silk, and she was beautiful when she was whining his name.

With a fistful of her red hair, he thrust harder, deeper, and his narrow hips pushed into those perfect thighs, already spread wide for him. She was soft everywhere as she took him, and the gentle bounce of her tits was mesmerizing.

Then he felt that first squeeze, and he shivered as Anna's fingers dug into the back of his neck. She looked surprised as he released her nipple in favor of her lips, licking at the pretty freckles on her cheek before he kissed her. He had her bottom lip tucked between his as she clenched his cock again and gasped his name. That's all he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

"Say it again," he murmured, and when he bottomed out, he was treated to her gasping voice once more. He stroked her temple with his thumb, drawing his name out of her again and again as she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes. She knew exactly who was doing this to her, and Bob wanted to be sure she remembered how it felt when her pussy started to milk him. She had to be close, and he was too as he told her, "Say it one more time."

Her voice was soft and lighter than air. "Bob." Then her head tipped back as he fucked her with a dozen intentional strokes, pressing against her clit until she got loud. She was clenching him harder as her hips came up off of his bed, and she cried out as she clung to him. Her legs were shaking, and her fingers were tugging at his hair, and the next few strokes into her tight pussy were just for him.

"Anna," he gasped as his glasses slid down his nose. He felt the familiar pull at the base of his spine. It was a warning, and he knew it. "Do I need to pull out?" But she was just starting to come down from her second orgasm, and all she seemed to be able to do was look up at him with a dreamy expression that he didn't want to see vanish yet. He kissed her lips gently even as he thrusted deep and whispered, "Baby, do I need to pull out?"

She was shaking her head just slightly from side to side, and he was afraid to take that as the answer he was looking for, but he didn't want to pull out. He wanted to cum inside her. After he asked one more time, she finally whispered, "No." And then it was a done deal. He filled her up, practically shouting her name as she kissed along his jaw and chin, completely sated and soft underneath him.

Bob smiled at Anna and buried his face against her neck and shoulder, fighting the urge to tell her exactly how much she meant to him. He was still deep inside her as he kissed her ear and whispered her name, and soft laughter bubbled from her lips. His fingers were still tangled in her hair, but his grasp was gentler now. He would get up and make dinner for her, and then maybe she would want to join him in the shower before snuggling in bed. If she wanted to go for round two, he wouldn't say no. Perhaps he could convince her to sleep over and let him drop her off at her place early on Monday morning. They could read some poetry together. Maybe he could even read what he'd written about her on PoetsAmongUs.

Feeling better than he had in months, he started to pull himself free from her inviting body. He let his soft cock slip free, watching as his thick cum dribbled out of her, and he moaned before she sat up slightly. He kissed her knee before he asked, "Want me to make you a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner? I usually burn them, but I'll make sure yours is perfect. And then maybe we can talk about us?"

He was rubbing his fingers along her ankle where there was a particularly attractive cluster of freckles when she abruptly sat up. Her brown eyes were wild as she repeated, "Us?" Bob was nodding, his smile tentative now, but it faded into nothing as she yanked her ankle away and scrambled off of his bed. "Oh no," she whispered, and he watched in horror as tears filled her eyes as she pulled her clothing back on.

"Anna?" he asked softly, climbing out of bed next to her and reaching for his sweatpants. "What's.... did I do something wrong?"

"No," she sobbed, swiping at her tears while refusing to meet his eyes as she slipped her shirt over her bra and turned toward his bedroom door. "You always do everything right. That's why I couldn't help myself."

Now he found himself chasing her down the stairs. He watched her pick up her phone and shove her feet into her shoes. "I don't understand," he whispered, running his hands through his hair as he stood there and watched her wrench his front door open.

The sound of the rain got louder as she pushed open the screen door, but he could still clearly hear every word she said to him with pure agony on her face. "I'm so sorry, Bob. I'm married."

And then she was gone, running out into the rainy night while his door swung closed with a loud bang.

-------------------------

He really rocked her world, too. Why is he so hot? Why is she such a mess? I love them so much. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@cruelmissdior

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@angelbabyange

@eternallyvenus

@sgt-barnesveins

@kmc1989

@libbyaller

#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd fic #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

398 notes · View notes

mrslankyman · 5 months

Text

Failed Mission

Montague (fortnite) x (fem) reader

-> smut / unsafe sex

-> gun use

->idk shit about guns

->Montague forgot his tripod stand. Maybe your ass would work better

->2k words

(request)

Too bad working for the Society meant going on missions with the most annoying man ever.

Montague.

His french accent: annoying

His outfit: ugly

The way he nitpicks everything: infuriating

He never wanted to listen to You. He never got the right things on the list for the mission. Always forgetting something. Last time he forgot the sticky bombs. Wonder what he will forget this time. It was just a steak out mission.

There was a rumor that The Under Ground would be attacking Lavish Lair today. That’s how you found yourself on top of one of the snowy mountains that surrounded the mansion. Montague right next to you. His supplies are back in the Jeep. The two of you were just watching below. Trying to see if anything suspicious or off was going on.

You both just sat in the snow. You mentally hated it. Back at your mansion there was no snow. You lived closer to Ritzy Rivera. So coldness wasn’t something you cared for. Montague on the other hand? He must be as cold as his heart.

“Wait.. I see something.. I think it’s that Hope girl Valeria talked about.” He got up spraying snow all over. Some of it landed on you, letting out an annoyed groan when you got up. He walked over with his Sniper Rifle.

Here we go.

He loaded it and held up the gun. Until he noticed one thing.

He had the wrong scope. So aiming to hold it up wasn’t going to happen. He shook too much.

Mistake number two.

He didn’t even bring the tripod.

“What now? Did you forget something again?” Your voice was laced with annoyance already.

“Yes, in fact I did. I have the wrong scope.” He looked over at you as he spoke. Eyeing you up and down in thought.

“So? Get the tripod and aim the best you can.” You rolled your eyes as if it was obvious.

“I didn’t bring it.” His voice was lower now. Almost menacing. He was obviously annoyed at you too but he had an idea.

“So what now? I only have my AR that isn’t going to do shit from up here.” You practically yelled at him. He did this too often.

“I’ll tell you what we're gonna do. Get on your knees.” He demanded pointing near the edge of the cliff. “What the hell, why?” You questioned glaring at him.

“Just do it, trust me.” He kept pointing at the spot. He was far too strong to deny. He could just shoot you right now if he wanted too. So you listened and groaned as you let your knees sink into the cold snow. You mentally thought of ways to get him back. Maybe on another mission you could dump cold water on him or-

You were cut out of your thoughts when he shoved you down to the ground completely with his foot. Your face shoved into the snow and your arms slid down.

Your back end was arched up, ass in the air. You spit out snow as you lifted up your head. Using your hand to wipe off the snow. “What the fuck is your idea?” You looked back at him as he got on one knee. Laying the barrel of the sniper on your ass.

“Put your head down or i’ll blow it off.” He warned and watched you slowly lower your head.

“Hurry up.” You groaned. What the fuck kind of idea is this.

Montague on the other hand was having a hard time aiming right. One reason; you were moving too much.

Another?

He was staring at your ass. The position he got you in so easily. You both always got annoyed at each other and got into fights. Yet you both always chose to do missions together despite the hatred. With hatred comes tension. Sometimes the tension feels a little too sexual.

His eyes wandered from the target below to you to the target.

Once he finally focused in he got a good aim. His hand on the trigger ready to blow this Underground agent's head off you moved.

“Fuck!” He yelled pointing the gun's muzzle at your head. “Stop fucking moving.” He growled as he watched you freeze. You knew his dumb ass would never pull the trigger. But it did scare you slightly.

“My bad i’m in the freezing fucking snow with an idiot using my ass as a tripod for his fucking gun!” You yelled not even looking at him. Keeping your face forward as you felt the gun move from your head. It was replaced by his hands gripping your hair. He pulled you back to his chest. He dropped his sniper and leaned into your ear.

“Stop talking back.” His accent slurred most of his words when his voice was this low with anger. His other hand laid on your thigh.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? Shoot me?” You smirked as him tugging on your hair didn’t make you scared. It makes your mind wander to other things. He was also losing his focus on the mission. His eyes looked down at you, how your lips slightly parted and you looked up at him fully. His hand tangled in your hair.

“No, I might do something else though.” He warned his eyes were half lidded now. The feeling of you pressed to his chest made him feel things he tried to ignore when around you. Now he was letting those feelings go freely.

“What is something else, Montague?” Your voice closed in a whisper as you got to his name. If only you knew how that drove him crazy. He could feel himself hardening. Dick straining against his dress pants.

“You really wanna do this?” His question was almost a whisper as he leaned his head down closer. His stubble looked so much better up closer. His blue and brown eyes looking into yours. The scar made him look menacing despite the blush on his cheeks.

His frosted tipped hair moved with the motion of the icy wind.

“Maybe I do.” Your hand moved on top of his hand that was laying on your thigh still. That gave him the answer he needed.

He closed the gap between you two and let his lips engulf yours. All the feelings of anger, annoyance, and sexual tension went into the kiss. All the times you two argued and got into each other's faces now came to a close. Any time you two argue after this it is surely going to end the same way this mission is going to end.

His hand moved yours off his as he slid it further down to the inside of your thigh. His hand in your hair pulling your head back further. He didn’t really like his angle of kissing. He wanted to grab your face and shove his tongue into your mouth.

Despite that desire he kept you in this position.

You pulled away from him and gasped slightly. He went to lean back in wanting, no needing more of you. He wanted your lips back on his. He actually wanted them all over his body.

“It’s too cold for this.” You sighed, you could feel his hard dick against your ass. Or was it his belt? Either way it was extremely hard.

“Why not?” He practically begged. His voice was still low but it had a desperate array to it. He wanted you now. He didn’t wanna wait.

“Let’s go to the Jeep.. come on. Je veux te baiser.” He cooed in your ear his french accent even more prominent as he spoke in his native tongue. “What does that mean?” You asked, laughing slightly.

He got closer to ear his hot breath tickling your neck.

“I want to fuck you.” His voice was so low and husky you could feel yourself throbbing.

“Then take me to the Jeep.” You whispered back and without a second thought he had lifted you up and was trudging through the snow to the Jeep. You littered his neck with wet sloppy kisses before he laid you down in the back seat. You scooted to the other seat as he crawled in. He leaned up to the passenger seat and grabbed the lever. Shoving it all the way to the front to give himself more room.

He loomed over you and smirked. “I want you on my lap now.” He growled and sat back in the seat. You crawled up to sit on his lap. He spread his legs out a little more. His diamond belt buckle really added to his outfit.

You leaned closer and kissed him. His medallion hitting your chest as you got closer. He kissed back. His plump lips moved with yours in such a needy fashion. He wanted you so badly. He wanted to fuck you so hard you’d forget about any other man who ever pleased you.

He pushed you back and took a breath. You took this pause to unbuckle his belt. Undoing his dress pants and just pulling out his dick from his boxers. You didn’t bother pulling his pants down. You just pushed the flaps of his pants to the side and his belt. He helped you slide off your pants quickly and underwear. He stared at you before leaning his head back against the headrest of the seat.

He grabbed your hips and lifted you over his perked up dick. “You ready?” He asked as he slid one hand down to line himself up with your entrance.

You nodded and slid down on him. You bit your lip holding back your moan. Montague on the other hand? He let his moan echo in the car. He didn’t hold back on the noises. He hadn’t fucked someone in so long.

He was too busy keeping the Society in order. He loved how your pussy tightened around his dick. This feeling was better than any successful heist he had ever been on. Money made him have a happy feeling but this pussy made him want to live.

He wanted to wake up every day knowing he could fuck you when ever you wanted.

He wanted to please you instead of annoy you.

He made a mental note to forget the tripod again.

“Montague..” You let his name slip out of your mouth in a high pitch moan. He grunted and slurred out random words or phrases in french. You didn’t understand them but you assumed they were good.

He held you still by the hips and slammed his dick up in you. Letting his hips go up and down ramming his dick into you. You both let out moans of pleasure. He slid one of his gloved hands down and used his thumb to make slow circle motions around your clit.

“Fuck.. I’m gonna cum..” You squealed as you felt yourself coming undone with each thrush of his dick. He groaned in agreement and grabbed your face with his free hand. Slamming his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. He moaned as he felt you cum on his dick. His motions became sloppy and he moved in and out at different paces. You watched his face scrunch up in pleasure and a low “oh fuck” came out of him before he pulled out and came on his vest.

Good thing he had 500 others.

He looked you in the eyes as you both calmed down from your highs.

“Oscar can defend himself.” He chuckled and pulled you back to him.

#montague #montague fortnite #montague x reader #montague fortnite x reader #montague smut #montague x reader smut #montague fortnite x reader smut #wtf is this #sorry

506 notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Note

CONGRATS 🌟🌟🌟

Don't go on that date for Javier Peña?

Jealousy, Jealousy.

2. "Don't go on that date."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. this is entirely inspired by the fact that i am obsessed with javi's nose. that's all.

Pairing - Javier Peña x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 604

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Javier rolls sideways and lands on his back next to you. The both of you are drenched in sweat, chests heaving, sheets are strewn around you, legs tangled together.

You catch your breath and sit up, shuffling to the edge of the bed. Just as you go to stand up, he grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"We don't do sleepovers, Javi."

"I know that. But you usually at least lie here for like 5 minutes."

"You going soft on me, Peña?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," he winks.

You scoff and stand up, ignoring the way you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your body.

"If you must know, I have a date."

Javier is stunned into silence.

"I've just fucked you within an inch of your life, and you're going on a date?"

Now you're stunned into silence.

"Javi... I'm allowed to date. We agreed that this... thing was casual. You suggested the whole 'no strings attached' idea."

"Forgive me if I don't like the thought of you going to see some guy with my cum dripping down your thighs."

You wince at his crudeness, but it also weirdly turns you on. He rarely gets possessive with you, but when he does, it's a sight to behold.

"Hermosa," he drawls, low and sultry. He's still got a hold of your wrist, and he tugs you back towards him.

"Javi," you half plead, half whine.

"Don't go on that date."

"Javi-"

"Sit on my face instead."

"Javi."

"That's my name, cariño."

The arrogance is rolling off him in waves, confronting and unavoidable. His cockiness is almost suffocating you. It certainly doesn't help the ache between your legs.

"I can't cancel on him, Javi. He's a nice guy. He's actually looking to date, for a relationship - not whatever this is."

Instead of protesting, Javier just laughs.

"What is so fucking funny?"

"It's just sweet that you think anyone could make you come the way I do."

You roll your eyes at him, and beg yourself to wriggle loose from his grip before he breaks down your barriers.

"Well, I won't know until I try."

Javi doesn't like that. He pulls you closer, grabbing at your hips so you're straddling him. He rocks you back and forth over his hardening cock, making you whine.

"Don't go on that date," he whispers against your lips. "Stay here, and I'll let you ride my face the way I know you like."

How can you say no to an offer like that?

"You better make me come so hard I see stars, Javier Peña."

"Always do," he winks.

In one swift motion, he lies down and pulls you up his body. You're hovering over his face when he pulls you down, grabbing fistfuls of your ass.

That man knows how to play you like a fiddle. Within mere minutes, he's got you writhing and moaning, tongue lapping at you like he's starved. Your clit drags along the gorgeous curve of his nose, hitting it just right. He wasn't wrong. No one can make you come the way he can.

He groans against you, and the vibrations send you over the edge. You're gripping his hair, rocking your hips back and forth with reckless abandon. He loves when you get needy like this.

"Fuck, I love when you use me," he rasps when you lift your hips slightly. "Good fucking girl."

You go to roll off of him, but he pulls you back.

"You didn't think I was going to make you cancel your date for just one orgasm, did you, hermosa?"

1K notes · View notes

pigeonpeach · 5 months

Text

Cuddles for my Love!

Summary: You are turned into a cat and desperately try to get your lover to notice and help.

Characters included: Diluc, Jean, Itto, Neuvillete

No cw just silly cat times

In a puff of smoke you looked down at your hands finding no more than paws. You were alarmed to say the least! A potion you had ordered, intended to help with some back pain, had instead turned you into a kitty cat! A very cute one yes but still! At least your back doesn’t hurt. But you must inform your lover and request help!

Diluc

“Hm a cat?” Diluc seemed confused as he opened the door to his office to be greeted with a meowing cat. He didn’t recognize it. “Adelinde did suggest getting cats to prevent mice.. or maybe you’re one of the maid’s cats?” He questions as you meow demandingly. You paw at his leg.

“Oh you must be hungry. There aren’t much mice here anyways. I’ll get you something little one.” He knelt down to scratch your ears. Oooh that felt good no! You must focus!

“Oh? Is something wrong little one?” He asked as you meowed excessively. “You must be very hungry.” Quickly he left to go to the kitchen making you follow him while meowing. You realized you had no chance of communicating with him so you decided to try a different way. You spotted a photo of you and Diluc and hopped onto the vanity, you grasped the photo in your kitty mouth and hopped back down. You trotted over to Diluc who was examining some fish Adelinde had been preparing, sneakily carving some off. Your meow was muffled as you lay the picture in front. Then scratch at his leg. He looks down.

“Oh now why would you do that?” He said a bit disappointed. “That’s my favorite photo.” He pouted as you meowed trying to somehow communicate to him your struggles.

“Oh.. did they send you? I got it, you must have been a gift for our anniversary tomorrow. I guess you broke out of your hiding spot.” He smiled. You however were now more annoyed but also concerned because you almost forgot your anniversary was tomorrow. You meowed more but to no avail. He just patted you.

“Such a beautiful cat, you look a bit like them oddly enough. Your eyes are… a similar color?” He seemed to finally take notice. You meowed encouragingly. You batter the photo and tried to point to yourself.

“Hmm… you seem oddly intelligent for a simple cat… if you can understand me then.. spin clockwise.” He said curiously. You did so excited to finally have established communication! You’re closer to telling him!

“Oh! You can? What kind of cat are you then? Um… if you know where my beloved is then roll over.” He instructed. You did so. He seemed intrigued. “Huh. Well then lead me to them.” You quickly trotted over to a mirror as a idea came to you. You batted at your reflection as you looked back up at him. He seemed skeptical but confused. He knelt down to observe you as you bumped your face into his, giving him a kitty kiss. He seemed to understand then.

“Oh.. I’ll bring you to Lisa then, She should know what do from here.”

Jean

You were so miserable, the maids in your shared home simply considered you a cute and needy cat. Saying how pleased Jean would be to have a friendly cat. You had one choice: escape and find Jean. Or Lisa. albedo? Just find Jean first! You know where she is, her office as always. You spotted a window and crawled out onto the roof. You noticed how far up you were as you felt a bit scared. You knew cats could make long jumps.. but you were so sca-

“Kitty!” A excited voice exclaimed. You heard someone landing behind you as you turned to see Amber putting away her wind glider. “Ohhh you must be lost! I’ll take you to the knights, we’ll find your owner don’t worry!” She said. Great! You can hitch a ride on her and get right to Jean

Unfortunately Amber didn’t let you leave the designated library spot. With the diligent maid Noelle watching over to make surd you didn’t run off. You tried to plead with her to let you go, you were so close to Jean! You needed to see her! Worse of all Lisa wasn’t here!

“Oh you must be hungry. Unfortunately I don’t have any snacks on me.” Noelle cooed trying to calm you. You meowed in distress trying to make it to the library door. “No no no you must stay here! Your owner will be coming shortly. Don’t worry you’re safe.”

You begrudgingly sat as you tried to wait for her to not be looking. Meanwhile she stroked your back, it felt really nice though. You relaxed a little. Overtime she started to read the rule books diligently. You tested out her focus by getting up to stretch. She didn’t seem to acknowledge it. You then took a step away, before sprinting at full speed to the door. Immediately Noelle shot up to follow.

“Wait! Did I startle you! I didn’t mean to I’m sorry!” She said worriedly. You looked back to her realizing you couldn’t open the door. You gave her your cutest pleading face. She pondered. “Hmm.. maybe you know where your home is? Is that it?” She asked. You nodded to her surprise. She opened the door as you quickly walked over to jean’s office. She seemed hesitant. “Oh no we can’t disturb her! She’s always busy at work!” She whispered panicked. You let out s loud meow as you scratched at the door. She quickly pulled you away, then the door opened as Jean stood there. Immediately you squirmed away from Noelle to Jean.

“There she is.” You heard the familiar voicd of Lisa behind her. Jean seemed relieved to see you as Noelle seemed worried.

“Don’t worry Noelle you didn’t do anything wrong. Thank you for watching over them. I’ll handle it from here.” She said quickly bringing you into her office. Lisa seemed to be preparing a potion.

“Yes dear, unfortunately I used the wrong ingredient for your potion, but I hope you had some fun as a kitty.” Lisa said patting your head. Jean seemed a bit upset though.

“I’ve been looking for you. Lisa informed me of her mistake but by then you had already ran away.” She held you put letting you dangle. You meowed defensively making her smile. “Its fine now though, you’re here.” She gave you a kiss making you shut up.

She sat you on her desk as Lisa continued brewing the remedy. You immediately used this opportunity to cuddle with your wife who seemed pleased now.

“Next time don’t give the maids such trouble. You had me so worried.”

“Next time? Are you implying you would rather this happen again?” Lisa playfully added.

“No that’s not what I meant.. just I’m glad you’re safe.” She said brushing you lovingly. You meowed in reply, purring contentedly.

Arataki Itto

“HEY GUYS LOOK AT THIS CAT!” Itto proudly displayed you, now a cat like a trophy to his buds. You meowed in annoyance.

“A cat? Where did you get that?” Kuki questioned.

“I don’t know it just walked over to me meowing constantly. I figured the fella must like me!” He said. “Oh you know what? My beautiful partner would love this cat! Do you know where they went Kuki?” He said. She looked at you as you continued meowing.

“I have a idea…” she says. “Hand me the cat.” She said

“Huh? No way its MY kitty! It chose me! See its meowing because its happy!” He says while you meow trying to tell him to listen to Kuki. Unfortunately he doesn’t speak cat.

“You’re holding it wrong, here.” She grabbed you from his arms, holding you properly.

“Hey!” He whined. You meowed again to which she shushed you.

“You idiot, this isn’t a normal cat. Your partner got transformed!” She said annoyed as she examined you.

“Hah?” He said confused.

“I’ll take you to the shrine and have you fixed don’t worry.” She said.

“Huh? I didn’t know they offered neutering at the Grand Narukami Shrine?” You meowed in annoyance. At least Shinobu knew what she was doing.

Neuvillete

“Such a peculiar feline.” He remarked as you rubbed against him. He seemed to analyze you carefully. “Hmm… it appears you’ve been transformed.” He says, you’re surprised he understood so quickly, but you suppose he is used to these things more. He is a dragon after all.

“Sedene?” He called out. The melusine came trotting in as she looked at you confused.

“Oh? What has happened to your beloved? Why they like this?” She asked.

“I’m not sure, but please request the mage Emilie to come here as soon as possible. I’m sure she’d be able to undo this.” He says, gently stroking your fur to help you relax.

“On it. But… I’m not sure where she is. I’ll find out.” She says. “Oh and heres your water, special from Mondstadt’s springs!” She says bringing out a bottle. He smiles.

“Thank you Sedene.” He says as she quickly heads off. He turns to you, scratching your chin.

“I’m sorry dear but I don’t have experience in undoing these kinds of spells. But I assure you I understand your struggle. I ask you simply relax now. There’s nothing you can do right now so just relax. I’ll handle everything.” He said sweetly. You let out meow in agreement, making yourself comfortable on the paper on his desk. He chuckled.

“Sweetheart I need that.” He said trying to pull it out. You didn’t budge, you didn’t know why but this paper was really comfortable. “Dear, I know you can still understand me, please just stand up.” He sighed. Eventually giving up.

“Are you hungry my dear? I don’t think I could bring you your usual foods but I could request some tasty fish.” He said. You meowed to confirm it. You were quite hungry. strangely fish sounded good right now. He smiled as he called for his assistant once more.

The second your fish came you stood to receive it. Neuvillete seizing the opportunity to rearrange your makeshift bed, taking the important documents and replacing them with some unnecessary ones. You happily chowed down. Purring as you enjoyed some tasty fish. You looked back briefly to watch him pretend he did nothing, but you heard him. Still the fish was too tasty and you continued to eat. He pet you lovingly as he continued with his work. Once finished you immediately set your sights on once again taking up his attention, you jumped back onto the desk sitting yourself right on the paper he was working on. He sighed.

“You’re as needy as ever, but I can’t resist that cute little face.” He said giving you a nice chin scratch. “Hopefully Emilie can come soon, otherwise I may never get work done.”

379 notes · View notes

homelanderbutbig · 6 months

Text

An Angel Waiting For Him (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1946 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Beginnings of a relationship.

When you first learned about Homelander's weakness to head scratches.

Homelander's been inviting you up to his penthouse more often lately. He's never really had friends before, let alone someone he can trust like you, so you figure he appreciates the company. As Homelander prefers to keep a tight schedule, your near daily visits happen at a regular time. It's become an enjoyable ritual of sorts, getting to see him and talk about your days together.

Truth be told, Homelander isn't sure what to make of you. You are so nice to him, but he's skeptical if he should let you get this close. The only humans he's been attached to are horrible people that he can't bring himself to kill… outside of Madelyn. Even though he loved her like a mother, she not only lied to him but she had been afraid of him throughout their whole relationship. Their entire bond was built on fraud… but he can never remove her entirely from his thoughts. He misses the way she provided him comfort, the way she let him lay his head on her lap… even if it was all just a lie.

During your afternoon break, you decide to spend some quiet time away from your co-workers in Homelander's penthouse. Although he isn't inside, he has given you permission to go there whenever you want. Walking into the tranquil silence of the penthouse, you make your way to the living room to lounge on his oversized couch. You tuck yourself into the corner of the couch, with your back on the armrest for the perfect view to watch the clouds pass by the window.

Just as you begin to feel at ease, you hear Homelander storming into the penthouse. His footsteps are louder than normal, a telltale sign that someone has pissed him off. He plunks himself on the couch next to you, with such a hefty thud that you are shocked his landing didn't catapult you across the room. Tilting his head back, he lets out an exasperated huff as he massages the bridge of his nose.

"Rough day?" you ask, sighing as you sit upright. Whatever uneventful break you intended to have is clearly not going to happen now.

"I can't believe I have to work with such idiots," Homelander grumbles, dropping his hand heavily into his lap. "These fuckers have no idea what I do for them, and yet they think they can treat me like I'm not the one in charge of my team."

"That must be difficult, feeling so used," you say, attempting to console him.

"Yes! Thank you!" he shouts as he raises his hands into the air, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than he intended. "It's like nobody here understands how much I sacrifice for them. I'm just here to say my lines and make them money. I'm a real fucking person! I'm still the captain of The Seven, not them!"

After ending his rant, he looks down at you expectantly, like he is waiting for you to stroke his ego some more. It's what you've come to anticipate from Homelander, the one sure-fire way to bring him out of a sour mood. However, today you came up here for some peace and quiet. Possibly, you think a different tactic can help him unwind too.

"I'm sorry Homelander. I know how frustrating it can be to be treated like that," you say, looking up at him while you scoot a bit closer to place your hand on his thigh. "If there's anything I can do to help, let me know, alright?"

Homelander gawks at you, blindsided by your abrupt changing of the routine. You were supposed to tell him how great he is and how everyone else is wrong, so he could go about his merry way. Instead, your words are bringing up memories of Madelyn, and a thought pops into his head. One that he is uncertain that you would let him do with you.

With a wave of nervousness overcoming him, Homelander averts his eyes from you while clenching his fists and tensing the muscles in his jaw. He's terrible at hiding his feelings; you know there's something tumbling around that big head of his.

"You look like you want to say something else," you remark, giving his leg a gentle pat. "You know you can tell me anything, I won't judge."

"I, um…" he mutters, eye darting frantically before he closes them, trying to steady himself with a deep breath. "I… want to try something… if you, uh… if you'll let me."

"Sure, go ahead," you respond, nodding your head. You aren't quite sure what Homelander is asking for, but your curiosity is piqued.

"O-okay…" he stutters, keeping his eyes planted on the floor. "Just… please… please don't move."

Just as you wonder if you've made a mistake, you watch as Homelander shifts his body lengthwise across the couch to lie on his back. Slowly, he lowers his head into your lap. You're taken aback by the sheer size and weight of his head, which is so large it's practically overflowing on your thighs. It almost feels like you have a big fat cat lying on you, if not for the incredible anxiety you feel emanating from him. He looks like he's scared out of his mind, completely regretting this decision and just wanting to get up and leave. And yet, at the same time he is still like a statue, waiting for you to make the first move.

Trying to comprehend what he wants, you absent-mindedly start petting Homelander's hair, as if your brain is on auto-pilot and it believes the giant head in your lap really is just a fluffy cat. Lo and behold, you begin to understand what he was asking for as his stress evaporates from your delicate touches, his eyes fluttering shut as he sinks further into your lap. He lets go of a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, and further nuzzles himself into your hand.

From your first moment alone with him, you've learned how affected he is from simple touches. How he practically bulldozed you when he tried to lean his full body weight into your hands, like he was chasing after something he had missed his entire life. It was something that bewildered you; you've only ever heard Homelander speak of this perfect childhood and family he had, why would he crave affection so heavily?

When you start running your nails along his undercut, you are surprised to hear Homelander start keening, albeit very inaudibly. He's clearly enjoying your attention, but it's obvious to you he's fighting to stay quiet. Unexpectedly, one particular scratch along his scalp causes him to loudly whimper from the pleasure. He immediately freezes, and stares at you with the widest eyes you've ever seen.

"I-I'm sorry…" he stutters, tears forming as he attempts to hide his face in your chest. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm s-sorry," he continues to repeat, eyes squeezed shut like he is terrified that he will be punished. Madelyn forbade him to make such pathetic noises on her lap, and she would only allow these 'sessions' when he obeyed her every word. He expects you will be the same.

"Hey, it's okay Homelander," you reassure him, still petting his hair. You hate seeing him so upset, especially when he hasn't done anything wrong. "That just felt good, right?"

Sheepishly, he nods as he turns slightly to peak at you with one timid eye, as if his entire existence is hanging in the balance of your next words.

"You don't have to apologize for enjoying that," you soothe him, using your thumb to wipe away his tears. "I'm happy that you're happy."

Homelander can't believe what he is hearing. Nobody has ever truly cared about his welfare before, and wanted him to just be content. Even Madelyn was only playing with his emotions to use him for her own personal gain. She never really cared, she just wanted to control him. It almost makes him feel stupid, placing Madelyn on such a high pedestal when there was an angel waiting for him this entire time.

He practically purrs as you resume scratching his scalp as you were before, except without this cloud of dread that was hanging over him. The fear Madelyn instilled in him to hide his satisfaction has miraculously dissipated, purely because of you. You, and your enchanted fingers, somehow adept at locating all of the sweet spots that he can't help but mewl at. Homelander nearly becomes overwhelmed by you, gripping at the couch's wooden frame so strongly you swear you can hear it splintering. There is something amazing about having a godlike superhuman giant whimpering in your lap, exclusively from the affection you give him.

Eventually, your fingers start to tire from the force you used in your scratches. As you go back to lightly petting his hair, Homelander opens his eyes to see you looking down at him with such care. The way you smile so sweetly at him is intoxicating, unlike how anyone has ever looked at him before. You are special. He wonders if you even realize that you are so far above the rest of the mudpeople.

Homelander rubs his head lightly into your chest, still keeping his vision focused on you. Compared to how frustrated he appeared when he first sat down, he now looks so serene, totally calmed by your tenderness. As you observe him, you begin to wonder something.

"Say, Homelander…" you start. He gives a light hum, noting that you have his attention. "How did you know I was up here by myself?"

"I could hear your heartbeat," he explains simply, still nudging at your chest. "It's the only one I listen for… It's… it's nice."

You aren't sure how to take that. Nobody has ever complimented you on the sound of your heart before. In a weird way, you are grateful that at least someone at Vought is keeping an eye out for you.

"When you were mad earlier… did you come up here just to see me?" you question, hoping to break through his real intentions of meeting you alone outside of your regular ritual.

Even though Homelander doesn't answer you, the ashamed way he avoids your gaze is enough for you to figure out his response. Somehow, you've become more than a friend to him; you're someone he wants to help him feel better, someone he trusts to take his hurt away. It's so sweet you can't stop yourself from smiling.

"Thank you," you say, caressing his cheek. When Homelander shoots you a confused look, you gently laugh.

"For trusting me, you goof," you grin, leaning down a bit nearer to his speechless face. "I'm happy that you're comfortable with me to talk about stuff that bothers you. I know how hard it can be to feel so alone."

"And if you want me to help you relax like this again," you remark, as you boop his nose with your finger. "I don't mind. I'm just glad to help."

Confounded by your genuine kindness, Homelander can feel himself start to cry again. He wishes he could hug you right now, but his whole body feels like it's been cemented in place, unwilling to move from this blissful position. All he can muster is to bury his face into your warm chest, relishing the comforting sounds of your pulse. Not even Madelyn's lap felt this welcoming, it's like your entire being is perfection.

"You're welcome Homelander," you tell him, bending down a bit further to give his head an awkward hug. "As long as you let me, I'll be there for you."

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing

224 notes · View notes

kiss-me-cill-me · 5 months

Note

Can we get a part 2 of morning light where Jim gets to do all the things he wants to do to her 🙏

Okay, you've all convinced me. The world clearly demands more Jim, and who am I to deny the world? Nothing too crazy going on here, because I honestly see him as the type to still be a little hesitant in this situation, but he does get to have a bit more fun in this one lol.

Moon Light

Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Maybe moments of peace aren't as rare as you'd think, even during the apocalypse. Although, if you have anything to say about it, not all of Jim's moments with you will be quite so peaceful as the first.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of reader's recent loss of virginity, hair pulling, maybe some light manhandling, corruption kink if you really squint

A/N: This is a sequel to Morning Light, which you can read HERE!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

The end of a long day always makes you eager to crawl into bed. That heavy feeling that sweeps over your limbs after many hours of arduous hard work - scavenging or gardening or doing any one of the other dozens of small chores necessary for survival - is like a siren’s call to the pile of blankets that wait to enshroud you and Jim every night.

Today has been long for a… slightly different reason than usual. After your slow start to the day, it's been hard to focus on anything else but Jim. And now, pleasant memories of your shared morning together still float through your head as you press back lightly against Jim’s chest; the steady rise and fall of his breath lulling you into a state of half-sleep.

Jim’s body suddenly twitches behind you; his arms contracting momentarily as he falls deeper into his own slumber. You stir, roused from the edges of some dream that had been almost ready to claim you.

“Sorry, love - go back to sleep,” Jim murmurs.

He places a soft kiss on your temple, brushing his lips over a stray beam of moonlight that lands on the side of your face. You settle back, burrowing into the crevice of Jim’s arm that’s wrapped securely around you.

“M’not asleep,” you say, dreamily.

“Sounds like you are,” Jim teases, his breath still pleasantly warm on your neck.

He’s already nestled back into the pillows, nose pressing into the crook of your neck, lips lazily kissing you as he speaks.

“I’m not,” you insist, your voice a bit steadier.

And it’s true. You haven’t been able to sleep, even if you may have been teetering over the edge of it just a few seconds ago.

“Something wrong?” Jim asks. His own voice is sleepy but still clear; concern washing over his words as he pulls you just a bit closer.

“No. Just… thinking about earlier,” you reply.

Jim’s fingers against your waist tighten; almost too softly to notice. You might not have if not for the way your senses seem to be heightened; anticipating even the smallest movement.

“Earlier?” Jim’s voice now has the faintest hint of suggestion. “What’cha thinkin’ about earlier for?”

Your body wiggles against him; unable to hide your excitement at his slight teasing. As your back brushes just a bit lower, you don’t miss the feeling of something hard pressed up against you.

“Jim!” you squeal.

“What? You’re the one thinkin’ about it,” he hums, playfully holding your hips against his.

And he’s right; your mind is running wild. Racing with all kinds of thoughts and ideas about what he could do to you now. Now that you’d given yourself to him once.

There’s still so much time for you to explore, and to have him help you discover this new and exciting part of life. But… why bother to wait to get started?

“Jim…” you sigh, grinding back into him.

“What is it, love?”

He’s gentle as always, letting you take the lead. You press back even a little harder, testing the limits of his resolve.

“Touch me, Jim. Please.”

Jim doesn’t waste even a second with asking you whether you’re sure, this time. He must know, with the way your back arches into him, how badly you want him again. His hand snakes down, not quickly and not slow. Trying to hide his eagerness, unsuccessfully. You hum as he pushes past your waistband. All you have on is a pair of lace panties, and not much else aside from an old t-shirt. No wonder you were both getting ideas.

“You really have been thinking of me,” Jim laughs.

His fingers curl into the wetness that’s already gathered between your legs, not quite pushing past the soft resistance - to the place where you want him most desperately. Your walls flutter at the absence.

“’Course I have,” you reply. “Liked it that much, did ya?”

Jim’s voice is still slurred, heavy with the remnants of sleep even though he’s fully awake now. Before you can think of a response, you’re cut off by your own sudden gasp, as Jim’s fingers finally press inside you.

“Too much?” he asks.

“No - keep going. I like it.”

“Mmm. Wanna do more than just think about me?” Jim teases. “Want me to stop you from gettin’ yourself all bothered?”

“Yes.”

The word comes out a bit more desperately than you’d meant it to. But there’s no stopping yourself as Jim curls his fingers inside you, coaxing out more breathy sighs as you whimper against him.

Jim drags his fingers out of you, only to bring them up to pull down at your panties. You help him maneuver them over your hips, lifting your legs once they slide past your knees so that you can snatch them away. Under the blankets, Jim hurries to slip out of his own boxers. He’s wearing even less clothing than you are. All that’s between you now is your thin t-shirt.

“Wanna take this off, too?” Jim asks, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

You sit up for a second to pull the shirt off, then settle back down to rest against Jim’s chest. He’s already pressing between your thighs; rutting himself through the tight space of your legs. One of his hands comes up to messily grab at your breast; his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh.

“Want me to be gentle again, love?”

Your throat clenches at the dark tint in his words. You think back again to earlier, when Jim had promised to let himself do things to you that might break the rickety old bed that you shared. Now that you’ve gotten your first taste of intimacy, you’re thrillingly eager to learn about other, slightly less soft and gentle sides.

“Am I allowed to say no?” you breathe.

“Only if you want to,” Jim says, laughing a little.

His hips thrust just a bit more roughly against you as you squeeze your thighs together. The drag of his hard length between your legs is making your head spin already. Jim brings his lips up to rest against your ear.

“You’re not the one who needs my permission, you know,” he teases. “Already told you how badly I’d like to have my way with you.”

You bring a hand up to cup over his, still squeezing into your breast. Your fingers brush lightly for just a moment, before clamping down and pressing his touch into your skin with an intensity that's unlike anything he’s dared to give you.

“Then no,” you say, your voice sounding soft even in the silence of the dark room. “This time, I don’t want to be gentle.”

Jim tears his hand away, leaving the soft flesh of your breast to instead grab roughly at your hip. In one swift movement, he has you pressed into the mattress, your chest shoved against the sheets as the blanket over you is torn off. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his voice a bit huskier now.

“I was kind of hoping you’d say that,” he admits, before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your face. “Just promise to let me know if you need me to stop.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before Jim is pressing inside of you, taking it fairly slowly at first to give you a chance to adjust, but clawing against your hips the deeper he gets. You let out a soft whine, but press back to make him slide further into you, silently letting him know to continue.

The feeling is strange again at first, but now that you know what to expect, you adjust quickly. Jim stays still for a moment, then tilts his hips, hitting the same spot inside you that made you go crazy earlier. You see sparks, and grab at the bedsheets.

“You take me so well,” Jim praises, starting to move at a slow rhythm.

You arch your back, desperate for him to do more; go faster. He’s still being too gentle, and while part of you is grateful, what you really want is for him to let loose. He’s strong, though, and each thrust pushes you into the mattress. Your hips rise to meet him, and your face presses deeper into the pillow.

“You’ve got no clue how hard it is to hold back with you,” Jim growls above you.

You feel your walls clench down around him, and Jim lets out a hiss. His fingers are so tight against your hips that it feels like he might sink into your skin. You moan, desperate for more; desperate to make him pump into you and chase his own high.

“Don’t hold back, then,” you beg, wriggling as much as you can with him holding you.

“You need to pace yourself, love,” Jim grunts, the exertion of restraint creeping into his voice.

“I told you to not be gentle.”

Your voice is almost a whine at this point, and you feel Jim’s hips stutter against you. He regains his composure quickly, pistoning in with another sharp thrust. That’s more like it, and you hum in approval.

“This still too gentle for you?” Jim teases, leaning down to press into your back. “God - fuck her once and she’s already begging for me to corrupt her.”

You let out a small squeak as Jim grabs a generous fist of your hair, pulling your neck back a few inches as he gives it a soft tug at the roots.

“But alright, love. I can be a bit rough with ya.” Jim pulls your hair again, and you sigh, sinfully. “Too bad, though. You were such a nice girl.”

The smirk in Jim’s words makes you grin. This is exactly what you wanted from him, and you listen with growing thirst as the sound of his hips snapping into you fills the small room. His pace is getting faster now; the sound of his breath speeding up to match. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling back sharply with each thrust. You let yourself give in to the pleasure of knowing he's close; enjoying the ride as Jim chases his high. All of a sudden, he stops - pulls out and flips you over so that you’re laid on your back, looking up at him.

“Touch yourself,” Jim gasps, lining back up without pause. “Wanna see your face when you come.”

It takes you a second, between the distracting heat that blossoms over your chest, and the feel of him pressing back into you; stretching your walls as he picks up just where he left off. But you do, once you’ve gathered your thoughts well enough, bring a hand down to play with yourself as Jim continues to thrust.

“Fuck - might not last long enough for you to do it,” Jim laughs, more than a little out of breath.

He stops, pressing into you one more time before pulling back, still half inside of you as he looks down, watching your fingers knead over your clit.

“That’s it, love. Oh, fuck - keep going. Need you to come like this.”

He starts to move again, more hesitantly. Wary of finishing before you’ve had a chance to do the same. It’s hard not to make quick work of yourself with Jim nearly growling over you, and soon you feel yourself tip over the edge.

Jim lets out a string of curses as you feel yourself clench hard around him. And just as quickly, he’s lifting you up, one hand snaking under your waist while the other comes up to grab hold of the headboard. He pounds into you with your hips raised shakily off of the mattress, desperate and making you grab at the bed sheets just to avoid getting pushed by the force.

Finally, Jim pulls out with a sharp breath, letting himself sink down to nestle his face in your neck as he screams weakly.

“Shhhhit… fuck,” Jim groans.

He’s still holding you up, your body half hovering over the mattress, your shoulders pressed into the pillows. The sheets below you are ruined, to say the least - until you have a chance to bring them down to the river and wash them, in any case.

“Sorry,” Jim laughs, clearly embarrassed. “Got a little carried away there…”

You giggle and look up at him still bracing himself against the headboard. Carefully, you push Jim across to the less messy side of the bed, flipping him over. Once he’s on his back, you straddle him, feeling the dampness that still lingers against your core as it presses into his stomach.

“Why do I have a very bad feeling that I’ve awakened something in you?” Jim chuckles.

You don’t reply, until you’ve had a chance to lean down and give him a long, steamy kiss on the lips. Only then do you pull away.

“Because you have,” you confirm.

You and Jim both laugh as he flips you over again so that you’re stretched out below him, looking up at his playful eyes in the hazy moonlight.

“Well, since the sheets are already half ruined,” Jim says. “What d’you say we finish ‘em off?”

You nod, already wrapping your legs around him.

“Told you I didn’t mind sleeping on the floor,” you laugh.

#jim 28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #jim 28 days later smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #28 days later smut #LemmyFics

108 notes · View notes

istadris · 1 year

Note

Thinking about plots dealing with Luigi being (technincally) a Bowser Minion and member of his army while playing also playing Superstar and minion's Quest (I am alternating between storylines so that main is ahead but not *too* far ahead)

And now I really really want a spin off where Bowser has been kidnapped by an evil Princess who wants to be an evil Queen and is trying to force him to marry her and because of a series of both politics and hilarious hijinks, Luigi has to work his way up the army ranks so he can go and rescue Bowser. mostly I am imaging him deciding he needs a Cunning Disguise and uses the Mr L- evil minion of evil persona from Super Paper Mario

Bonus mental image that keeps making me laugh: Optional party members Mr M (Mario disguises as an evil minion) and Miss P (Peach disguised as an evil minion)

The Plan was, at first, for Luigi to sneak into Bowser's castle to learn what Bowser had been up to (no Peach kidnapping attempt in four months ? Not even on her birthday ? Something must be Wrong) because just kicking his door down and demanding answers would be very rude. So since Luigi is technically part of the Koopa Troop, he's technically allowed to go in there and look around, right ? The magic in Bowser's Castle seems to agree and let him in.

Then the Plan had to be tweaked because Luigi came across some of Bowser's actual minions and unlike the Castle, they are very untrustworthy of random humans wandering around.

"Hey !! What do you think you're doing ?" "Waaah! I'm-I'm... the newest recruit" "What." "Y-yeah, Bowser hired me himself ! Y-you can ask him if you’d like!" "Haha, very funny. What's your designation then, Mister ??" "I'm Misteeeeer..." *panic panic panic* "...L ?" "What" "Err. Yeah. Mister L. ?" "(what a lame name) Yeah okay, registration office is this way, I'm not paid enough to actually care"

Thankfully, even if most minions have faced Luigi at least once at some point, he's discrete and shy enough that almost everyone forgets his face, but still, there are a couple of scares with someone going “wait, why do you remind me of someone ...?”, so a change of attire seems logical.

Also, turns out Koopa bureaucracy is obscure and frustrating enough that by the time Luigi grabs a mask and a change of black clothes and tweaks his cap, everyone just rolls with the situation and "Mr L" is just. Part of the deal now.

They also have bigger problems to care right now, like the whole Bowser kidnapping situation. Not that Luigi is aware of that at first, he’s trying his best to get closer to Bowser, but everyone is very Mad and Ready to Fight so he’s trying his best to not step on any toes.

Still, Luigi should really learn to say no, especially in situations like "HEY YOU! Get over here, the rescue mission in the Death Lands is about to leave!!"

I don't know how canon Super Paper Mario would be here, and to me the M&L games and the Paper Mario games are separate continuities (Paper Jam confirms it, no?). So either Paper Jam already happened and M&L!Luigi has vaguely heard of Paper Luigi's bout in evildom, either M&L!Luigi does come up with the persona on his own

Either way, I honestly think that while Luigi is a big cowardly scaredy cat, he can be brave and even as fearless as Mario, but only if he hides behind something : a disguise (Princess Peach), a persona (Mr L, Mario when Luigi gets hypnotised in Superstar Saga, Dreamy Luigi) or his brother himself (if Mario is rushing ahead, or if he’s in danger, he follows). In any case, the less he gives himself time to think, the less he risks to gets trapped into his own anxiety and paranoia. So what to do when you need to Not Think and get answers at the same time ? You rush ahead and pray that no one catches on that you have no idea what you’re doing

the Green Thunder moniker comes fairly quickly, because Bowser’s minions love gossip and a guy in green using lightning attacks is pretty awesome.

The Plan gets some more tweaks when the Koopa Troop comes across Mario himself, and of course, they throw the new guy at him because it’s a hazing ritual to get stomped by Mario. Does Mario recognize Luigi and play along (and even goad Luigi into giving his all) ? Does he not know who that new minion is, and unlike Luigi he doesn’t know what to expect ? In any case, Mr L gets a lot more respect from everyone after tasering Mario into a waterfall.

Bonus for the bowuigi crowd : when Luigi finally finds Bowser : “What are you doing here ??“ “Saving you from a forced wedding to an evil queen, apparently!” “Tch, does that make you Mario ?” “I don’t know, does that make you Peach ??” And they promptly shut up because now they realize the Implications and try to not think about (it doesn’t work)

Badass team up rescue though!! With the bonus of knowing each other more than they expected! (Just me who likes the aesthetic of a smaller character climbing on another bigger character’s back when they team up in a fight)

Honestly I’m not sure how much Peach and Mario could effectively pass as minions, but it would make a very funny reason for Wario’s existence in that verse

#super mario bros #mario & luigi #bowser #luigi #bowuigi #answers #I'm approaching the end of Superstar Saga and I don't want it to eeeeend #mr l

201 notes · View notes

more-cardigan-than-woman · 1 year

Text

The Babysitter - Day 5 - Midnight / 8

Summary: You ran away and now you're at a club, what could possibly go wrong

Thief!Reader x The Red Hood

4.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, semi public sex acts, chasing, minor primal kink, swearing, alcohol, chocking, slapping, canon typical violence.

AN: This chapter is split into night and day, as it starts at midnight and it was way too long.

Day 4

The metaphorical clock strikes midnight as you approach The Bunker. There is no line, no security, just one singular light hanging above a random steel door. To say this club was underground, well, it would be wrong. Sure, it’s called The Bunker, but that's mostly because the place is run by hench folks and they’re not exactly a creative bunch. You remember when you first asked Harley about it and she just rolled her eyes and sounded surprised that it was still open.

Shimming down the dress that you fished out of your go bag and very carefully changed into in the park restroom, you approach the club. Your eyes wander up and you notice the beam in the sky, he's out tonight. Which must be why everyone's here and not with their bosses causing mayhem.

You knock in sequence on the heavy door, surprised when a familiar face greets you.

"Janice! Bestie! I didn't know you got a job here. I haven’t seen you in so long! What have you been up to? Aside from this sweet side gig? It must be good work? Do they pay well? Do you get to meet heaps of cool people?”

"It's Janelle," Janice says, looking wholly unimpressed to see you, she flips her long dark braid over her shoulder, seeming to type something into her tablet before rolling her eyes at you, "go in."

"We should catch up soon! It's been ages since we hung out!."

"Not long enough." She mutters as you walk past her and walk down the long corridor towards the club.

With every step you hear the music grow louder, the lights grow brighter and you grow closer and closer to the party. "Good luck finding me here, Macho man." You mumble, stepping into the crowd and locating your first mark.

"Where are you going?" Jason thinks as he stares down at the little dot on his map, "there's nothing that side of crime alley, little trouble maker."

Revving his motorcycle he follows the dot, ending up at a random street. "Where are you?" He peers around noting the large apartment buildings above and garbage covering the alley way. "What the fuck?" He grips his phone so hard he can hear the screen crack as your dot vanishes, "she can't just fucking disappear."

Pacing back and forth he tries to think, his brain almost combusting before an idea springs to mind. Lucky for him the idiot answers in a second.

"Hey boss, wassup?"

"Jamie, you know any hangouts near park and renegade?"

"Just the bunker, heard they was having a party tonight."

"The bunker?"

"Yeah, it's the henchman hangout."

"The-"

"Henchman's hangout. Used to go there all the time. But you got me so busy these days while you're out, i-"

"How do I find it?"

"Got a light over the door, big steel one."

"Thanks Jamie, take the night off." He ends the calls before the man can keep talking.

He scans the alley again, noticing the single light hanging from a patio a bit further down. Jason bangs on the door with his fist and when it doesn't open he kicks that fucker down.

"Mr Red Hood sir, I didn't realise.." Janelle says, "Sorry, we don't normally get-"

The Red Hood walks right by the flustered woman, throwing her some money for the door before stalking his way down the hallway.

“What is this song?” you shout to Lark over the thrum of the music.

“No idea.” she smiles at you, “Behind you, Rolex.”

“Good spot,” your eyes flick back to the tall guy behind you, his brown hair flipping around as he attempts to dance, “cover me,” you say to Lark as she turns her back to watch from behind.

“Got you girl. Get us that bag.”

“Wow,” you turn, your hand landing on the man's big (though not as big as Red's) forearm, his cheap plasticky jacket seeming to stick to the palms of your hands, “Sorry,” you stare up at the man his dull hazel eyes not nearly as enchanting as the blue ones you’ve been thinking about all day, “Or not,” you wink as his hand slips down your arm.

“We dancing?” he asks, grabbing your hand to twirl you around and you let out a squeal. “You’re fun.” he pulls you closer “cute too,” you can smell how much he bathed in his cologne before coming out tonight, you can feel the bile creeping up your throat with every second. This closeness only makes you move faster before the stench makes you aspirate or puke.

“Yeah, let's dance.” you take his hand and let him hold it, while your fingers toy with the clasp on his watch. “Spin me again,” you laugh and as he does you flick the watch off his wrist and spin yourself into your dark haired friend.

“Girl, you get it?” Lark catches you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and spins so her back is covering the man's view of you.

“Happy Birthday Larkie, your gift,” you joke, slipping it onto her wrist and laughing when it fits perfectly.

“Best gift ever. Until the next one,” Lark links her arm through yours, winding you both through the crowd as whatever his name was tries to follow you both.

“Drinks?”

“Yes, Des is serving those big fruity cocktails I love, I want at least four and you can tell me more about the Red Hood and why the fuck I haven’t seen you all week.”

You and Lark continue to drink, talk and steal. You almost forget that Reds on his way, that he promised to punish you for being bad, that he’s probably going to slap you again, maybe throw you over his shoulder like the man handling dickhead he is. Maybe he’ll snarl at you, pin you up against the wall and then just take-

“Yo! Your drifting off into the clouds again girlie.” Lark snaps her fingers in front of your face, “Earth calling, wanna come back down to me?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head, “I’m here, just thinking about-”

“Why don’t you go splash your face.” Lark offers, tilting her head towards the bathroom, “Someones watching us.”

“I can’t see anyone, but I trust you. Be back in a sec.” you push your way through the crowd, your eyes searching for any sign of the Red Hood. You don’t see him or anyone really, just a bunch of faceless swaying beings that form the dance floor and the wooden door that leads into the bathroom.

Shoving your way inside you tip your head over the graffiti covered sink and splash some of the water over your face, careful not to get any in your mouth. It’s probably safe, but probably isn't definitely and with Scarecrow out of Arkham anything is possible.

"G'day petal," a deep voice startles as it storms from one of the stalls, "gunna need me boom back,"

"You what?" You lift on your toes and take a step back, planting your feet on the ground.

"I know you took my boomerang, petal."

"For once you're wrong, Boomer."

"Yeah, nah. Ain’t got your little boyfriend to keep me away this time."

"Who?" You push at him and when he doesn't budge you reach behind you, gripping at the gun tucked into your pocket.

"Who says he's my boyfriend?" You lift up as your hand grips the handle.

"Everyone, I talked to."

"Wrong again." You pull the gun out pointing it under his chin, "how does it feel to be so wrong so often, Boomer?"

"Feels pretty nice from here," he grinds his hips into you and you click the trigger, "Petal forgot her bullets," he tuts at you, "silly girl."

"Don't need em," you smirk, reaching the gun back and colliding It with his head, a loud smack echoes in the small room and he's on the floor, "now for my prize," flipping his jacket open you take one of the boomerangs, easily tucking it into your pocket with the rest of your loot.

"What's with the gun?" Lark asks, her eyes shifting to the passed out Boomer on the bathroom floor, “I see, we should go.” she wraps an arm around you and hurries you into the crowd on the dancefloor.

“I wasn’t taking that long,” you shout into her ear.

“No, I came to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Your guy.”

“My what?”

“The Red Hood.”

“What about him?”

“He’s here.”

Jason's helmet scans the room, instantly spotting you cozied up to some random woman. Eyes turn to him, but he ignores them as he sinks into the shadows of the club.

He watches you for a while, the tiny echo of your voice ringing across the large room. His eyes drift up your legs, stopping at the short hemline of your skirt and the heaviness of your pockets. Jason enjoys seeing you take and take and take from those around you, seemingly gifting this woman with the dark hair with some of your takings. The both of you dance and laugh together, seeming to work together to scam those around you and he can’t help the jealousy of how free you seem to be with her seep into his trigger finger. You’re spinning and free and the way you cling to her, it’s taking all his control not to march over, pick you up and drag you out of here.

You dodge someone before your pretty eyes dart around the room quickly, seeming to pause in Jason's hiding place in the shadows before moving across and then suddenly you're moving, charging off towards the bathroom.

Now is his chance, he thinks, stepping into the light when the whole crowd turns to him and he feels the need to sink back into the darkness. But it’s almost too late, he can see that dark haired woman coming towards him, a look of anger and vengeance on her face. Fuck, had you told her about him? What did you say for her to be acting like this? He moves, circling around the room until there is a dance floor of people between them. Jason was too busy trying to put distance between him and this woman and her cheap leather outfit. He lost track, you went into the bathroom, he thinks, then, where did you go? He looks over the crowd but he can’t see you, can’t even see the other woman, only the crowd and the lights.

He scans for you on his helmet again and you pop up almost immediately, your body moving freely as you dance with the woman in the crowd and he can’t help the step he takes forward. Like his brain has left the building and now something else is creeping its way into his head.

“What is that?” you ask Lark, your neck twitching to the side.

“Umm, Girl.”

“It’s like an itch, but it’s inside my skin.” you reach back trying to scratch it.

“Girl,” she spins you around and you let out a gasp as the Red Hood stomps towards you, the crowd seeming to part for him as he, can a step be angry? Its like his anger is seeping from his fucking suit. It's a very pretty suit, especially with all the bright lights of the club shining off his helmet.

“Love you Larkie, but I-”

“You gotta go.” she squeezes your hand, “take the back door and don't forget to have fun!” she calls to you as you take off, squishing and squirming your way through the dancers. You throw a glance over your shoulder and can see him getting closer as you move towards the back of the club and the back door. Your heart thrums in your chest, pumping in your ears while your feet struggle to stay steading on your heels.

“Stop following me.” you call, but are pretty sure it's lost in the noise of the club. Picking up the pace you kick your heels off, leaving them behind so you can run faster. You dart around the corner near the bathroom and a hand snakes out grabbing your arm.

“Where you off to now Petal?”

“Don’t have time for this Boomer.”

“Make time,” he points his boomerang at your stomach, pulling it back. Fast as you can you wrap your hand around it, flipping yourself backwards and yanking it from his hand. You spin, throwing the object in the direction of the Red Hood and flee as fast as you can. Boomer is so taken aback that he doesn't say a word, just stares, his hand held up for when his weapon will return to him.

A loud thud rings down the hall and you turn back only to see Boomer on the ground again as the Red Hood steps over his body. His hand reaching down for the gun on his leg. Fuck, how is he getting closer? Are you moving slower?

Turning back around you make a fast dash for the door, the heavy clang of the Red Hoods boots ringing in your ears almost as hard as your breaths are coming out. The door! It’s right there, you're a step, maybe two from it when a strong hand wraps around your wrist and you can’t hold the scream of surprise in.

“Thought you’d give more of a fight, little trouble maker.” Reds robot voice growls into your ear.

“Well, I do hate to disappoint,” you stomp down on his foot, forgetting that you're in bare feet and wince when the steel cap of his boots dig into the arch of your foot, “Ow.” you cry, jabbing your elbow into the hard armor on his stomach, “Why is everything always so hard with you?” you wiggle trying to escape his grasp.

“So that little brats can’t beat me up.” he holds you a little tighter, the leather of his gloves biting into your skin. The smell of your sweaty perfume barely registers under his helmet, but fuck if he can’t feel your cute little ass wiggling into his cock. Biting down on his lip he tries to maintain some control, to not just press your smart ass little face into the wall and take you right here. His cock throbs when you try to hit him again, making that sweet whiney noise. Shit, he needs, what does he need- “I wanna watch you run a bit more,” his grip starts to loosen, even though he wants nothing more to hold you so fucking close, “ready?”

“To run from you? Always.”

“Good girl.” he releases you and you take off immediately running for the door, your sweaty hands siding off the handle and you giggle when you spot him watching you, unable to keep the excitement of what the fuck is happening inside you. The words, his words, that he keeps saying that somehow makes your insides melt and your legs feel tingly, “You won’t be laughing when I catch you this time.” he threatens, cracking his knuckles at you. But he hasn’t moved yet, he’s watching you from his perch on the wall.

“Fuck you!” you shout back when you finally get the door open and sprint onto the street. You smile to yourself as you hear the thud of his boots coming from behind you, “Fucking asshole!” you bolt down the alley, the stones on the tarmac digging into your feet, but you can’t stop. Even if you’re having fun, enjoying the thought of him chasing you oh so slowly and what he might possibly do when he catches up to you, “You’re so fucking slow!” you shout, turning around to see the alleyway empty, only the trash drifting down and the graffitied walls closing in on you.

Where did he go? He was right behind you a second ago. You turn towards the other end of the alley and can only see the soft glow of the street lights shining. Shit, where could he have gone? Did he give up? You think smugly, turning back down the alley which will lead to a quicker route home. “Fucking idiot, I told him I was faster.”

“But I’m smarter.” The Red Hood grasps your arm, yanking you into a covered alcove and closing your body into his hard armor. A deep breathe rushes from Jason's chest as you bump into him, he probably pulled your with more force than he needed to, but seeing that fucking smile on your face is worth it.

“Guess you caught me.” you beam up at him. He feels his cock straining against his pants at your closeness. If seeing you in the small dress, stealing from those assholes hadn’t excited him. Then watching your ass giggle and your laughter ring in the air as he chased you certainly did. “So what are you going to do with me, now that you've caught me?” you tease him, your hand reaching up towards his helmet and he catches your wrist in his hand.

“What do you think, trouble maker?”

��What do I think? Now he wants to know. Well, Where do I start? I think you’re mean, I think my feet are fucking sore from running on the bare street, I think I don't even know your fucking name and I think that you didn’t even care to come looking for me.”

“How many times is that now?”

“Times what? Because seriously, youre sending some mixed fucking signals here and I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you or your little brain but as fun as it can be, I need some fucking clarity here Red, because I’m fucking confused.”

“Nine.” Jason adds in his head, using his grip on your wrist to spin you around and press you into the wall, “I told you not to swear at me. It’s about time you got some punishment.” he lifts the skirt of your dress, impressed by how heavy the pockets seem to be he tries to ignore it, “Bad mouth brats, need to learn their place.” he slaps his hand onto your ass gentler than he wants to, his fingers kneading at your soft panties. “8 more to go, trouble maker. And for every noise you make I'm going to add one more.” he slaps you again and you can’t keep the little yip that escapes you. He keeps going “7, I’m sending mixed signals,” he leans over to threaten close to your ear, “6, you ran away from me,” his thumb grazes over your ass, “5, you keep being bad,” his long gloved fingers graze over the wet spot in your panties, “4, but I know you want to be good for me,” he flicks your panties to the side before slapping right over your clit, “3, you like to torture me, don’t you?” You let out a hungry moan, your ass presses back into his hand and Jason can’t help the way his dick throbs. “3 more,” he wraps a hand around your mouth, holding it closed, “I think this is torturing you more than me.”

You mumble into his glove, the leather scent filling your nose, his hand tightens on your face. You can feel yourself dripping down your thigh from all those delicious slaps moving from your ass to your clit and those strong fingers on you and his thighs closing you in.

“1 more little trouble maker. Can you take it?” you nod, sticking your ass out even further and wiggling it for him, “This is a punishment, act like it” he scorns you. You wiggle more, biting down on his fingers, and he moans at the feeling of your teeth gripping his finger, “Better.”

His strong hand slaps on your ass and your scream into his fingers, way too exaggerated but Red seems to love it. His fingers massage into your tender skin, his hand gripping tight on your face, “Quiet,” he commands you as his fingers slide through the sopping mess of your pussy, “Quiet or I will stop.”

“Ah, huh.” you mumble into the glove as his fingers press into you. The leather cold on the inside of your pussy, his helmet cold on the side of your face. But fuck, those fingers, he toys with you. Slowly moving in and out, swirling around inside of you and pumping up into your g spot. You almost lose your mind when his thumb grazes up and starts to circle your clit. Your hips thrusting back into him as you grind down on those thick fingers.

“You’re little cunt is so tight on my fingers,” the red hood pumps into you faster, “you like it like this trouble maker?” he pushes another finger in, while his thumb continues its ministrations on your clit, “I can tell that you do, you’re fucking clinging to me.” his hand moves from your mouth to cup at your breast as his body pushes you closer to the wall, “I wanna hear you cum, trouble maker,”

“Quietly?”

“Yeah, can you do that for me?”

“I- ahhh,” you bite down on your bottom lip, “I’ll try,”

“Good girl.” you fall apart at his words, your hold body shaking into the brick wall, your pussy sucking his fingers deeper and deeper inside you. Your teeth biting so hard into your lip you think you might be bleeding as your panting breaths escape from the corner of your lips. Red keeps a hold of you, his whole body seeming to keep you up while you come apart around him.

“Red, I ah-” you shiver as your body starts to relax again and he pulls his fingers from within you.

Jason spins you back around, pressing your ass into the cool concrete wall by the throat, the chill seeming to soothe the soreness and ache in your muscles, “Hello trouble maker,” he titles that shiny helmet to the side, lifting his fingers up and under the helmet so he can taste you, “How was your day?” he asks so casually that it throws you for a second.

“Really great,” you smile sarcastically into the lit up eyes of the helmet, “No one told me what to do, or threw me around.”

“Or made you cum so hard you shook, sounds boring.” his fingers grip tighter on your throat, his knees pushing your legs further apart. Shit, he’s losing control. Like he can't seem to stop, like that tiny taste of you and watching you fall apart on his fingers cracked a hole in his skull, “I had a boring day too, some dumb brat left me to entertain myself.”

“Poor you.”

“Want to make it up to me?

“Isn’t that what the punishment was?”

“No, because I don't think you learned your lesson yet, trouble maker.” he pulls off his jacket, throwing it on the ground before him, pushing you to your knees. Trying not to be impressed at how quickly you’ve bounced back after he made you cum so hard, “You going to do as you're told?”

“No.” you stare up at him defiantly.

“Do you want me to make you?” his finger twine through your hair, yanking your head back.

“Is this suppose to be intimidating? Because honestly that little kid in the tights is scarier than you.” His other hand slaps across your face and your sensitive pussy tingles in your panties.

“If you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Just hit me in the leg or something,” he says so softly that you’re almost confused by it, but you understand. This game, or whatever weird ass fuck thing you two are doing, he wants reassurance that you’re playing too. “I need you to nod or shake your head, if this is too far-” he pauses, caressing your face,”-I can just take you home and rub some oil into your feet.”

You stare up at his helmet, your hands resting on his thighs as your nails bite into the hard metal covers, your smile maybe a little bit evil, “Fuck you,” you spit at his chest.

“My little trouble maker,” his fingers tighten in your hair as his other hand works fast to pull his cock from his pants, “Open your mouth,” he orders you and your lips open with seemingly a mind of their own, “Good, stick out your tongue,” he bounces his cock on your tongue and you can’t help the way you start to squirm at the taste of him on your tongue, “Sit still.” he thrusts forward pressing his cock further into your mouth, “Close that loud mouth,” you suck at him, your tongue pressing up into the thick vein that runs along the bottom of his cock, “Do a good job and I’ll give you a reward,” this spurs you on, thinking of how good his fingers felt inside you. You eagerly bob your head and your fingers press into his thighs, your tongue swirling around his cock as moans bubble up your throat and vibrate around him, “finally something that mouth is good for,” he releases your hair, his hand moving down to support your neck, “at your own pace, trouble maker,” he moans, trying his best to keep himself still and not fuck down into your throat, “yeah, like that,” his head flings back with the weight of the helmet, “You feel amazing, so hot and wet.”

You make a movement with your hands, your finger traveling from your chin to your head, while you keep on sucking and licking at him, “Off?” he asks a little breathless, you give him the tiniest nod, trying not to lose the grip your lips have on his cock. “Stop for a second,” his hand leaves your neck and his cock falls from your lips and you suck in a harsh breath.

Relaxing back on your thighs you stare up at him in awe, his huge cock hanging between his armored legs. He lifts the helmet off, his hair shiny dark curls fall perfectly over his face, he drops the helmet to the ground, his fingers brush the hairs from your face as his sharp jawline tilts down at you and a red domino mask stares back at you.

“I knew it! Two masks!” you exclaim, a second before he shoves his cock back in your mouth.

“I was such a close trouble maker, why don't you be a good girl and make me feel good and then I’ll think about rewarding you.” you hungrily suck his cock, your pussy fucking soaking the ground beneath you as you bring him closer and closer to finishing. The whites of the domino mask stare at you while his hair clings to his sweaty face. His moans grow rougher and more animalistic as he gets closer and closer. Your teeth scrape along his length and that seems to be the thing that sends him over the edge, his salty, tangy cum paints the inside of your mouth and you swallow it down like bridesmaids drinking prosecco at a bachelorette party. His soft panting fills in your ears as his hands gently brush along your cheek.

His cock falls from your lips as he leans into the wall behind you. His eyes still take you in as he rests his head on the cold concrete, his chest heaving, his breath spot but his hand still on your face. You meet his eyes as you gather some of his cum that fell from your mouth on your fingers and lick at it, moaning around your fingers in the same way he had earlier.

“You did so well for me,” he coos, lightly slipping his forearm under yours and helping you off the ground. He picks up his helmet, “Can you hold this?” he asks in a voice so devoid of the earlier animal it surprises you, “I’m going I take you home and I can look at those feet.”

“My feet? What about my pussy?”

“If you can behave long enough.” he picks you up, sliding an arm under your legs, “Remember when I told you how loud I can make bratty little trouble makers.”

“Not true until you prove it.”

“Then I guess I better prove it,” he winks, capturing your lips in a desperate, hungry kiss, “But only if you’re a good girl, think you can do it?”

“I can only try my best.” you snuggle into his chest, holding the helmet on your tummy as he carries you home.

Day 5 - 7 am

Taglist:

@letmebebatmanpls @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog

@nutmeg030 @igotanidea @tild3ath @halbhohehalluzination

@goblinhobo @efam @princessbl0ss0m @bubbles-incorrect-yb

@ilikw @megumisbabymomma @mxtokko @viperbaroness

#red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #reader x red hood #red hood #x reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd x reader

107 notes · View notes

amenders93 · 3 months

Text

The Surprising Meeting

Over time, the new road was constructed and completed. When the road was done and vehicles were allowed to drive on it, that meant it was time for a stake-out. Ginger, Bunty and Mac were on the beach trying to see what was happening on the mainland. Mac gloomily states that it was only a matter of time before the humans showed up. Somehow she must have known that the safety they've felt for so long wouldn't last for long. Mac and Ginger looked through binoculars to get a closer look, just like they did back on Tweedy's Farm. As they peered through the binoculars, they see a large truck wound its way along the new road. It had a colorful logo on the side that said FUN-LAND FARMS. There was a picture of a happy-looking chicken sitting in a bucket, doing a happy 'thumbs-up' sign. There was also the sound of clucking birds coming from inside the truck.

Ginger frowned at the sight and the sound, believing that humans are taking chickens to some kind of chicken farm. That's when our island queen lowered the binoculars and got a serious look on her face. Bunty starts to worry, saying that she hasn't seen that particular look in a long while. She tries to tell her friend that she can't right all the world's wrongs. However, this apparently falls on deaf ears because Ginger states that there will be a meeting tonight and to spread the word. Then she heads back to the village. Bunty looks at Mac; she knew Ginger very well and she knew that her friend would stop at nothing to fight back against any humans who threatened them. Our muscle-bound hen says what we can all agree from this, "Here we go again." 😏

The meeting was arranged for the town hall that very night and Molly could see from her bedroom window that all the chickens were gathering at that very moment. Our island princess goes downstairs to see Ginger getting herself ready to go to the meeting. She asks her mother some pretty serious questions like, "What's going on?", "Why can't I go up my tree anymore?", and "What's this meeting about?" Ginger tries very hard to think about something to tell her daughter. Then she comes up with an excuse that there's some quite big wasps up the tree this year; Molly looks at her mother in disbelief.

Ginger also tells Molly that she needs her to stay home and look after her father. Both island queen and princess turn to see Rocky trying to swat a moth away from their hanging light, but our island king loses his balance and falls off his stool, painfully saying he's good. We all know he's not 🤕. Molly starts to cheer up a bit, suggesting that her dad can tell her a story while her mom's out. Ginger smiles, agreeing with her daughter's idea. Then our island queen bids her big, brave girl goodnight, kisses her on the cheek and heads off to the meeting. As Ginger leaves, Molly runs up the stairs giggling and Rocky wishes his wife good luck with the meeting.

Once father and daughter were alone together, Rocky calls out to Molly, asking her what she wants to do as she comes back downstairs. Molly then holds up a large poster, suggesting to her dad that he could tell about it. It was Rocky's old circus poster with ROCKY THE FLYING ROOSTER on it, the same one that Rocky packed away the day Molly had hatched. Our island king is taken aback; he tries to convince his daughter that the rooster on the poster wasn't him. However, Molly is smarter than she seems. She looks at Rocky, then she looks at the poster and then she gives her dad a knowing look. They were clearly the one and the same rooster. Rocky caves in, saying that the rooster in the poster is him but it was a long time ago. Our dashing rooster then gazes at his poster, probably remember how different his life as a Lone Free Ranger was back then. Molly raises her eyebrows, convincing her dad to continue. Rocky then brightens up, stating that it's actually a pretty good story. Our island king then starts to tell his little princess all about his exciting adventures as a Lone Free Ranger. Those were the days when he lived in the circus and was shot into the sky from a cannon. He was living the life, free as a bird. This is going to come back to haunt Rocky. He's soon going to wish he'd never told Molly any of those stories.

Meanwhile at the town hall, all the chickens gathered around, chattering anxiously about what was happening on the mainland. At that moment, Ginger arrived and walked up to the podium with her serious look. Bunty is in one corner of the hall with Mac, Babs and Fowler with her arms crossed and frowning, knowing that when Ginger's got that look, she'll probably have them all charging right into the fray. Babs nervously says she doesn't want to charge into any frays since she's fray-phobic. Classic Babs 😂. Ginger then calls out to the crowd to settle down to make her annoucement.

Our island queen goes over what they already know: the new road and the trucks taking chickens to what looks like some kind of farm. Some of the chickens start to panic a little; one chicken named Beryl even laid an egg. Ginger calms them down again and continues with her announcement: that from their past experiences, they know what this new threat can mean. It's something that they just can't ignore and that they all only have one choice. Throughout this, the panic started up again and begins to get worse with each time Ginger gets more intense. Babs unknowingly knitted a blue masterpiece with a chicken skull and cross bones on it; she's obviously terrified with the news and tries to hide behind it, not wanting to hear their only choice. But surprisingly, Ginger says that their only choice is to hide.

Everyone is shocked silent. Even Mac, Babs, Bunty and Fowler were surprised. This wasn't the bold and brave Ginger they knew. One chicken suggested that by hide, it means like pretending that they're not there; Ginger agrees. There was more silence and then the crowd erupts in loud cheering. This didn't sound dangerous at all. All the chickens were cheering except for Mac. Our Scottish hen knows her best friend too well and this whole hiding plan was definitely not in her nature. Ginger explained how they could hide from the humans on the mainland by making a huge leafy screen to block the chickens from their view. The chickens left the meeting happily, ready to start to work right away, leaving Ginger in the hall. Even though old Fowler was used to facing up to the enemy, he tries to be enthusiastic about the plan. He walks alongside Babs calling this plan Operation Lie-Low; our ditzy hen states she likes lie-lows, especially the stripy ones 😂.

As Ginger watches the chickens leave, she's hoping she made the right choice for everyone even though it's usually not like her. Mac walks up to her best friend asking about her welfare, knowing that it's not like her to shy away from danger. Ginger knows that she would rather face the humans and stop the threat against chicken kind, but things are not the same as they once were. Now that she is married to Rocky and they have Molly to think about, she cannot risk their freedom by venturing into a world that finds chickens so delicious. They all have spend so long trying to escape from Tweedy's Farm to freedom for a better life and now that they have, they're not about to lose it at the hands of humans once again.

Our island queen had had a change of perspective now that she's a wife and a mother. She's trying so hard to protect her family and all her friends, even if it means shying away from danger instead of facing it like she used to. There are times when we think we made the right choice because it's easy, but sometimes the easy choice is not always the right one. However, I just hope that Ginger's decision to hide from the humans is a good one. 🤔

#chicken run #chicken run 2 #chicken run dawn of the nugget #dawn of the nugget #chicken run 2 spoilers #ginger and rocky #rocky and ginger #rocky #ginger #molly

10 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

Text

to being ghosts.

Chapter 2 - Ghosts of the Night

Chapter Warnings: angst with a tiny sliver of fluff, fem!reader getting to know Victor & crew, mentions of death and executions, incorrect depictions of hacking, more world-building (this is additional story foundation, the plot picks up in ch. 3). 5.8k+ words.

The plane lands in San Francisco in the middle of the night. As the witching hour approaches, you remember what Daniels said a few hours ago.

“Vale is mine.”

Your entire plan relies on Victor, and though you doubt Daniels would be able to kill him or harm Victor in any way, you still prefer to operate with caution. Moving slowly and quietly through the dark, you feel like a ghost as you slip by unannounced, leaving the plane and your partner behind. You must find Victor first, or the world falls to men like Daniels, and the New World Charter gets precisely what they want.

Victor Vale won’t be easy to find, that you know. Even with one of his companions telling you which city they’re in, you don't know where to look first. With only a few hours until sunrise, you skirt around San Francisco, the dark metropolis symbolizing what once was and a harbinger of what is to come.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m leaving,” Victor announces, though Mitch is the only one awake to hear him.

“Call if you need help,” Mitch replies.

“The absence of functioning cell towers should make that easy.”

“You’re smart, find a carrier pigeon or something.”

Victor rolls his eyes, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

“If I don’t come back-“

“You will,” Mitch interjects.

“If I don’t come back, take care of Sydney and Dol.”

Mitch turns slowly, his face somber as he nods. “I will, Vic. But don’t make me prove it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The door closes behind Victor’s trench coat, and Mitch swears California has never been so cold.

✯✯✯✯✯

San Francisco is huge, and though you know what you’re looking for, it’s not easy to find a ghost town in the middle of the woods in the dead of night. With each passing minute, your hope dwindles; the question of what will happen if you fail to find Victor has numerous answers, and none of them are good. Stopping behind a thick tree line, you take a few deep breaths.

East.

The idea isn’t your own, like a ghost directing you towards fellow ghosts. You go east, even though you know that if you are wrong, you are running straight toward the danger you are trying to eradicate. Maybe, just maybe, things get better from here.

Your chuckle at the overly hopeful thought breaks through the darkness.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where’s Vic?” Sydney asks, rubbing her eyes.

“He went out for a few minutes. What are you doing awake?” Mitch replies.

Sydney shrugs, her fingers grazing Dol’s head as she looks away. Mitch knows she’s avoiding answering the question for some reason but also knows Victor has a better chance of convincing her to talk.

“Is he coming back?”

Mitch remembers Victor’s words about what to tell Sydney: Not a word more than we have to.

“Of course he is,” Mitch answers. “He made a promise to protect you, right? Then he’ll be back.”

“Did you tell him what he wanted to know, about the agent you talked to?”

“We didn’t talk. But, no, I didn’t.”

“What if Victor finds them, and- and hurts them before they can help us?”

Mitch sighs, turning back toward the window. “It’s a risk we have to take. I can tell Victor everything about her but trusting her is his decision.”

“Her?” Sydney asks, a smile growing on her face. “We’re doomed.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You approach a suburb of San Francisco after a long night of walking, and it looks like it was abandoned long before the riots. Walking down the small area previously called “Main Street,” though it’s more of a main building, you doubt anyone else would choose to wait here.

A small collection of houses is barely visible in the distance, and the minutes tick by, closer to sunrise than you realize. Maybe you could rest for a bit before starting your search anew. As you move toward the first house, you pull your NWA badge from your pocket, staring at it and wishing it was different. With your focus on the badge, you don’t notice anything in your path until you run into something.

Or someone you realize as you look up.

“Don’t move,” he says darkly, his pale eyes and blond hair contrasting his dark clothing. “You’re NWA?”

“You’re Victor Vale,” you breathe out.

Furrowing your brows, you wonder how you know that and then ask yourself if you’re right.

“You know my name. What’s yours?”

“I- how do I know your name?”

“Tell me how you found me. You have less than a minute before you can’t say anything.”

“I am just trying to help.”

“That’s not an answer,” Victor says through his teeth. “Why are you here?”

You say your name with your hands raised, your badge still in your right hand. Victor sees it, and combined with your name, he remembers something he was never supposed to know.

2 Days Ago

If Mitch isn’t willing to give him the answers and information he needs, Victor will find it himself. Mitch’s unchanging insistence that this NWA agent he communicated with is trustworthy and can help them makes Victor curious. There is no surefire way to know if someone is good, but if Mitch is convinced, there has to be evidence. Or so Victor hopes.

Pulling Mitch’s laptop from the counter, Victor sits in the dark and types in the password. He scoffs at Mitch’s failure to maintain decent cyber security as the documents on the desktop load.

Opening the NWA file, Victor narrows his eyes as he scans the document. It looks normal enough to him, though one name is formatted differently. Yours.

Present Day

After you say your name, you suddenly feel like it’s easier to breathe, a barely-there pain vanishing as Victor realizes who you are. If you didn’t know his name before, that would be all the evidence you needed to identify him as the NWA’s most wanted EO.

“Why?” Victor demands, pulling you from your thoughts. “Why are EOs worth risking your ordinary, perfect little life? What makes us worthy of treason and getting yourself killed?”

You nod as he speaks, his voice as dark as the forest behind him.

“It’s not about what happens to me, it never has been,” you answer carefully but honestly. “EOs aren’t so different, and you know it. Just because you can do something that scares people like Smoak doesn’t mean you deserve to die or live in constant fear and hiding. I would do anything for good people, including EOs, no matter what the government says or does to me.”

“That’s the what, not the why.”

“Because this isn’t freedom, Mr. Vale. This is just another dictator taking out what he is scared of, anything different than him. He’s no different than Hitler, any of the others. And someone has to do something; I can’t sit on the sidelines and watch innocent people be murdered because they died and came back a little different. It’s not right, and if I can make a difference, why shouldn’t I?”

Victor drops his eyes, gazing at your badge before inquiring, “Why me?”

“You’re the most wanted EO. But I will protect you and your friends however I can.”

At the mention of his ‘friends,’ Victor has to decide if he can trust you. He can take you out with a thought, but taking you near Mitch and Sydney is a greater decision, and one that he cannot make lightly.

You toss your badge on the ground at his feet. “I didn’t want this position. If I could have walked away, I would have, but I couldn’t. Not when I know that my job was putting me in the place to help, to get EOs out of the line of fire. There is a chance to get the world back from the New World Charter; tell me you see that.”

Victor takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he considers your words and actions. You seem genuine, but part of Victor thinks this could still be a trap. So, he gives you an out.

“If you do this,” he begins slowly, “turn your back on all of them – on your country – for us, there is no going back. You will be a ghost.”

Your lips twitch up, the beginning of a smile. “I’ve been a ghost for years, but it’s finally time to do something with that invisibility.”

Victor nods. “If you’re sure. There’s a house about a mile from here where we’ve been waiting. For you, presumably.”

“I’m honored,” you reply, walking beside him. “This makes you a ghost, too, then?”

Victor hums.

“So, I’m in good company,” you muse. “Do you have a ghost name? I know it’s cliché, but can I be Casper?”

Sighing, Victor wonders what it’s like to be able to trust people and show who you really are.

✯✯✯✯✯

The earliest rays of light have just begun to shine over the horizon, turning the inside of the Gulfstream an orange hue. Daniels blinks his eyes open, waking quickly when he remembers where he is and why. Somewhere outside the window beside him, Victor Vale and his EO companions are hiding.

He calls your name, standing when there is no reply. After walking through the plane and failing to find you, Daniels curses and kicks the table beside the laptop you used to track Vale.

“Stupid girl,” he mutters, snatching the computer from the floor and failing to unlock it.

Concerned about what he will say when Smoak checks in, he sticks to his original plan: as far as anyone needs to know, he left to search for Vale and protect you, safe on the plane. Valiance is the best cover for narcissism, he decides. That concern makes way for anger quickly, though, and he abandons the laptop to open the plane’s door.

San Francisco looks different in the light, a deserted metropolis filled with what was lost in the transition to the New World. Daniels doesn’t see the symbolism, of course, too determined to find you and the EO trash you seem to want to protect.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor is silent as he leads you through the woods, only glancing at you when he switches his path. You can tell he is reluctant, an internal battle occurring in his mind. He has no reason to trust you, though you are glad he is. No matter how long it takes, you will show him that you meant every word and will fight until your last breath.

“I’ll do whatever you want, anything you want,” you offer quietly. “But I can’t do this alone. Saving the rest of the EOs and taking down the New World Charter won’t be easy.”

You receive no reply, chewing the inside of your lip as you watch the ghost beside you. Victor is good, deep down, and you hope he can see that you are too.

A small house, likely a winter retreat or something of the kind, appears in a small thicket. Victor stops you, an arm extended in front of your chest as he turns toward you.

“You show me the smallest sign that you lied about who you are or why you’re here, or if I start thinking this was a trap… I will not hesitate to kill you,” Victor threatens, his voice even and serious.

“I understand. This is your life, and I know that I have to earn your trust. Like I said, I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Blindfold me, make me wait somewhere else, whatever you want. Your cautiousness is your privilege, and I know the risk I’m running if I misstep.”

Victor grumbles something under his breath before leading you to the door. He stops with his hand on the doorknob, his shoulders tensing before he gestures for you to enter first.

As you walk before him, you think about how you never felt this safe in front of Daniels. With him, you were concerned about getting a bullet in the back, but Victor’s presence behind you is a blanket of safety.

“Hey,” Mitch says, adding your name with a smile. “Thanks for coming.”

At your confused look, he adds, “I saw your picture. You’ll be glad to know the pictures have been scrubbed from most downloads.”

“Not yours, though, you’re better than that,” you deduce.

“You get it,” Mitch jokes.

A young girl stands in the doorway, looking between you and Victor as she clings to a large black dog. You recognize her from the file, the suspected EO that you knew you’d give your life to protect. Seeing her reinforces your belief that even without knowing her name, you would do everything and then more to keep her away from the NWA and safe.

Victor nods, a silent acknowledgment that everything is okay for now.

“I’m Sydney,” she says, stepping toward you.

You introduce yourself, offering your hand to shake. After Sydney releases it, the dog licks your hand.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say, kneeling to pet him. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“Dol,” Sydney tells you.

“You didn’t know?” Mitch repeats.

“The file listed two associates, just descriptions of you and Sydney, but apparently no one else was lucky enough to meet Dol here.”

As they arrange themselves around you, you can see they have been living a relatively normal life in this house, and you hate what you must do next.

“You’re all going to have to stay inside for now,” you tell them.

Victor’s unimpressed look alerts you that you’ll have to convince them it is more dangerous out there than they realize. Alone in this little pocket of domesticity, they are likely unaware of the degree of the assault targeting EOs across the world.

“I- I lost an EO a while back,” you admit. “Since I was assigned to Task O, I made sure to find them before my partner and send them somewhere safe. Then I would fake their deaths.”

“I told you!” Sydney interjects, looking at Victor. “There was too much life. The faked deaths were creating a rift in how much life I could sense.”

You glance at Victor with your eyebrows raised. He tilts his head to the side, a tiny movement.

“Sydney can raise the dead,” he tells you.

Your eyes widen as you look back at Sydney. “Whoa.”

She nods, pleased with your impressed reaction. “There’s connections, points that you have to pull together, and a few weeks ago I started sensing that there were more than there should have been. But if the world thought that the EOs were dead, but weren’t, I guess that explains it.”

“Continue,” Victor demands, gesturing for Sydney to pipe down.

“Okay, so I was hiding them, essentially, and lying to my partner. But there was this one EO that he got to first. When he radioed that he’d killed him, I didn’t know what to do. I thought that it was hopeless, that for every one I saved, the NWA would kill two or three more. But he had an EO partner, a guy called Rock. I managed to find Rock and keep him from taking out the entire city before I sent him to a safe place.”

“You have no way of knowing if those EOs ever made it where you sent them,” Victor argues. “For all you know, they’re all gone.”

“They’re not,” Sydney interjects. “I wouldn’t be able to feel them if that were true.”

“My point is, it may still be four versus the world. That’s not a plausible fight. If those EOs aren’t where you sent them, changed their minds, whatever, you’re right back where you started.”

“Not entirely true,” you whisper. “I didn’t have you on my side then.”

Sydney moves closer to Mitch, both convinced by your guilt at losing an EO.

“Please just listen to my idea. Give me one chance and if you still think it’s hopeless or impossible, I will leave,” you beg. “Please.”

Victor thinks he can handle whatever comes his way, and he can protect Mitch and Sydney without your help. But, as he looks at them, he decides to give you a chance. What harm can a chance do?

✯✯✯✯✯

Daniels completes a grid search of downtown San Francisco, the empty cityscape more reminiscent of a post-apocalyptic world than the lies the New World Charter is spreading about the coming changes. At the end of the first day since you abandoned your partner, Daniels uses his government-provided satellite phone to call Director Smoak.

“Smoak,” he answers.

“Director Smoak, this is Agent Daniels. My partner and I are in San Francisco to locate Victor Vale,” he explains.

“Very well. How are you doing?”

“All due respect, sir, but I didn’t trust her to join this fight. She seemed put off by your warnings about him as well, so I’ve taken point on this, and she is working from the plane.”

“An understandable and commendable leadership choice on your part, Agent Daniels. Keep me updated.”

Daniels ends the call and begins wondering how he will explain your death. After your treacherous actions, defying a direct order, he doesn’t plan to give you a chance to explain yourself.

Victor Vale, however, could take the blame. He may be able to put people in pain by seeing them, but can he take an entire army on at once?

Daniels smiles to himself as his plan comes together. A ticket is in his future, regardless of what happens to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Throughout the first two days in the safe house with Victor, Sydney, Mitch, and Dol, you get to know each of them better.

“Wait,” Victor calls as you follow Sydney to bed. “A moment?”

Sydney disappears down the hall, and you turn toward Victor. The movement is a bit too sudden, and he mumbles, “Don’t.”

You stop, laying your hands across your stomach where he can see them. “Sorry.”

Victor watches you closely as he steps back. “What did you do before the NWA?”

“I was a police officer. Apparently I had promise, and when the department was shut down, the NWA decided that my record was worthy of attention.”

Victor’s jaw tightens at the mention of the New World, and you duck your chin.

“What was so great about your record?”

“I- honestly, I don’t know. I made a few arrests, but for the most part, I wasn’t an exemplary cop. I did it for the people, which you’d think would make me a terrible choice.”

“If you’d said no?”

You interlace your fingers together, and Victor watches your every move, prepared to drop you if you move too suddenly or make an unwarranted comment.

“There’s a place, it’s called the Canada Region by most people. It’s where they send agents who don’t agree with the ideals or ignore their orders. No one ever comes back from the Canada Region.”

“So, you risk your life for people you want to see taken down.”

“I know it sounds stupid, and maybe it is, but it seems like a chance to do something that makes it all better. Hopeless dreaming, perhaps, but at least I tried, even if I fail.”

“Failing isn’t the worst part of how that would end.”

“Save one life, and it’s worth mine,” you argue, shrugging.

Victor shakes his head, clearly thinking you’re wrong or unfounded in your beliefs. He doesn’t say anything though, as he leads you to your new bedroom.

“Night, Casper,” he mutters, so low you can barely hear it. “Be careful.”

Coming from anyone else, you’d question their motives in telling you to be careful as you go to sleep, but from Victor Vale, it’s both a necessary sentiment and a warning.

✯✯✯✯✯

When Victor walks into the kitchen, he stops when he sees you and Sydney sitting together. Sydney clearly likes you, even though you’ve only known each other for a few days. Victor assumes it has something to do with having another girl around; he’s never been one for making friends easily, regardless of what they have in common.

“What’s it like now, on the other side of where we hide?” Sydney asks you.

Victor hasn’t told you he and Mitch are keeping things from Sydney, only telling her one side of the truth, but you seem to know.

“It’s not great. A lot of cities were evacuated, but people found new places to live and they’re doing the best they can,” you answer, telling her some of the truth. “If you want to hear cool stories though, I’ve got a lot of fictional book knowledge and childhood stories,” you add.

Dol climbs onto the couch beside you, yet another resident who trusts you, as you tell Sydney about your favorite book and the world it depicts. As you distract Sydney, Victor grows more convinced that you are on the right side of this fight, even if you’re using a bad thing to get into the fight.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor’s hand wraps around your bicep, tugging you into his room as you try to walk by.

“Tell me about Task O,” he requests, his hand slowly falling from your arm.

You take a shaky breath as you begin to answer, ready to tell the whole truth, no matter how ugly it is, how bad it makes you look, or what Victor decides to do to you when he learns what your fellow agents are doing to people like him.

“Task O is for all things ordinary, as I’m sure you know. At its simplest level, the task force is supposed to track down EOs and eliminate them. The director, Smoak, is over the whole NWA and he has a vicious vendetta against ExtraOrdinaries. My, uh, my partner Agent Daniels is really close with Smoak.”

“Still a boys’ club,” Victor says, causing you to smile before you begin talking again.

“Yeah, it is. Daniels doesn’t like me, doubts me and undermines me constantly, but he’s also the reason I was assigned to Task O. He pulled some strings to get himself on the team, and since I was his partner, I got roped into it too.”

Victor catches your use of was in referring to your partner, yet another point in your favor.

“EOs are being treated like criminals, but NWA agents are judge, jury, and executioner. No questions asked before they’re taken out, and anyone lost in the crossfire is collateral damage in getting the world back to normal.”

“I thought everyone wanted to be special.”

“Well, that’s just because you were never ordinary, were you?”

You smile as you focus on Victor rather than Task O for a moment. He’s nicer than he seemed at first, though he still threatens to kill you every once in a while.

“I just- I still don’t understand how you ended up in the NWA, let alone such an elite task force,” Victor explains.

Your smile falls. “I was young- I am young, and I think they saw someone who went through the police academy and could be easily indoctrinated. The NWA changes people at a fundamental level, like brainwashing. And Daniels was a sniper in the Army, with more awards than any one person should have, so when he saw a young woman who could shoot and do the job, and wouldn’t mind him taking the credit, he picked me.”

Victor’s eyes widen when he notices the tears running over your cheeks as you lower your voice to admit, “I thought about leaving, just running as far as I could when they told me that I was going to have to kill innocent EOs. Getting pulled into the NWA, handpicked by one of their best assets was terrible, but that first meeting felt like the end of everything I wanted to get back.”

Victor has never been good at comforting people, but he lays his hand on your shoulder and reminds you, “It was for a reason. No matter what you did or thought you’d have to do to survive, you did it for a good reason, and look how much progress you’ve made.”

Your tears slow as you relax under Victor’s touch. “Thank you.”

As you back out of his room, you see something change in Victor’s eyes: he’s starting to trust you, he’s more civil and trusting around you, and he’s the tiniest bit open, telling you about his past.

“Wait,” you call, stepping back in. “You didn’t correct me. I implied that all EOs are innocent and you didn’t say anything.”

Victor tilts his head as he says, “I thought you went to the police academy. ‘Innocent until proven guilty’ ring a bell?”

“That’s not how you used to operate.”

“You said it yourself, we’re ghosts now, and we have the privilege of hindsight. Doing good wasn’t necessarily an option before, not for people like me.”

“And now?”

“Let’s just say I’ve got your back, as long as you give me reasons to.”

“Victor. Thank you, and sorry for prying.”

“Trading answers for answers is only fair.”

“So, you’ll tell me about midnight now?” you ask hopefully.

Victor waits until you’ve stepped back over the threshold to close the door as he says, “Not a chance.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Nearly a week with Victor has changed you. You’re not as scared anymore, though you do have moments where you think you hear gunshots or Daniels asking if you did your job. Being a ghost and being haunted aren’t strictly connected, and you hope the haunting feeling doesn’t follow you into the fight or the old world as you try to revive it.

Daniels is miles away, slowly moving outside of San Francisco, though you don’t know where he is or how long you have as you fall asleep. In your dreams, he’s closing in much quicker than in reality. Tonight’s nightmare, though, ends differently than the others.

---

Standing in the living room with Sydney, everything is normal, good even. And part of you knows not to trust it, but the other part is desperate to hold onto any happiness you can find.

“What is that?” Sydney asks, moments before the door is kicked in.

Daniels steps inside, dragging Sydney away from you as he threatens to kill her the instant you move. Victor and Mitch rush in, freezing as Daniels points the gun at Sydney.

“What did you do?” Victor demands, looking at you with dark eyes.

You feel a bolt of pain shoot down your spine as you answer, “Nothing, nothing, I promise. I don’t know how he found us.”

“’Us,’” Daniels repeats. “Cute. Vale, over here now or the girl is no more.”

Victor takes three long steps across the room, keeping his eyes on you as Daniels nudges his knees to make him fall to the ground.

“Mitch,” you whisper, praying for someone to do something.

“He can’t help you. He’s dying tonight too,” Daniels says, summoning Mitch over.

You can’t move, can’t scream. The only thing you do is cry and fall to your knees as Daniels does his job, quick executions. Victor fills you with pain as he distracts himself from the bloody scene beside him.

“And the ticket,” Daniels says happily before pulling the trigger.

---

You scream, panting and crying as you sit up in your bed. Flinching, you notice someone lurking in the open doorway.

“You’re okay,” Victor promises, stepping inside. “It was just a dream.”

Reaching out, you grab Victor’s arm, and he allows you to touch his wrist, shaking as you locate his pulse point. He doesn’t know what to say to calm you down, so he sits on the bed beside you and thinks.

“When I was in college, I was pre-med,” he begins, hoping to distract you like you do with Sydney. “We had this big project where we had to pick a thesis, and my roommate and I were arguing over who had the better idea.”

You lean closer to Victor, aware that Eli wrote about EOs or started to, but interested in hearing Victor’s side of the story.

“I chose adrenal responses, fight or flight. My professor was impressed, and every bit of research I did made me more interested in the different types of responses. There’s an article that I think about a lot that argued there was one more: fight, flight, or freeze. It wasn’t widely accepted, but I think it’s a valid idea.”

“So, you were a nerd?” you ask with a chuckle.

Victor turns toward you, glad to see you look more like yourself.

“I prefer the term academically motivated,” he replies.

“That’s the same thing.”

Victor shrugs, letting you continue running your fingers over his wrist, though the touch burns after too long without feeling another’s skin on his.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Would- Victor, would you use your power on a good person to do a better thing?”

Victor finds the question odd and its implications odder. He keeps his eyes on your hand as he answers, “I guess. Depends on the person and the situation, I suppose.”

You nod, hoping that if the need arises, he will be willing to use his powers on everyone standing in his way, even if you find yourself on the wrong side. Victor has more experience with fights like this, but if the time comes that you ask him to remove you from the array, you can only hope that he will do it without hesitation.

“Why do you ask?” Victor inquires.

“Just a question I’ve been wondering about. Thanks for calming me down and for trusting me. At least a little.”

Your fingers slide off Victor’s wrist, and the burning sensation makes way for a deep cold to settle over him at the loss of your touch. He doesn’t answer as he stands and moves to your door. You’re sure that he would do it again, though, and that he’s a much better man, a better ghost than he lets people see.

✯✯✯✯✯

Sydney seems very attached to you. You can see that she cares about and likes you, happy to spend time with you and talk to you. In return, you try to be kind and compassionate toward her, as open and honest as you can, and unknowingly act like a big sister or mother figure. Mitch is the only one who has noticed how easily Sydney attached herself to you and Victor, adopting you as her stand-in mom and dad without your knowledge.

Before you came along, Sydney’s safe place was Victor, but now it is both Victor and you. Victor is surprised that he doesn’t mind sharing the responsibility; he watches you with Sydney, and it’s clear that you mean every word you say, even what you said when you first met, and in every quiet, private moment since then.

In the quiet weeks of getting to know one another, you’ve inserted yourself into Victor’s dysfunctional family, and no one wants to return to a hidden life without you.

As the other powerless companion, Mitch trusts you, as well, though he never felt he had a reason not to. He was the one who found you and advocated for you to Victor, so your trust is readily returned.

“Which police department did you work for?” Mitch asks, interrupting your conversation with Sydney.

“Why? Wanna hack it?” you chirp happily.

He nods, and you excuse yourself from Sydney’s side to join him at the table. Security is nearly nonexistent after the department’s closure and the government’s dissolution, so you get him in quickly and help him navigate the records he is searching for.

“What are you planning to use these for?” you ask.

“To help,” Mitch answers, blunt and cryptic.

“Good talk, thanks for the informative answer,” you reply.

“I found something else you may want to see,” he adds, turning to look at you. “It’s up to you, but I found Daniels’ Army records. The original documents without any redactions.”

You freeze, pressing your lips together as you consider your options. They’re guaranteed to be graphic and full of confirmed kills, but they could give you an insight into how Daniels thinks and operates. He will be coming for you and the people you care about, so though the decision is hard, you make it quickly.

“I want to see them. How bad are they?”

Mitch tilts his head, enough of an answer that you take a deep breath to ready yourself. As he turns the screen toward you, he lays a hand on your shoulder when you move forward to view the images.

“His first name is Brian,” you read. “I didn’t know that.”

“There’s a lot of information there he probably doesn’t want you to know.”

“Then we should use it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor shows the most change from the time you met him.

“Vic, do you ever wish you had killed Eli earlier?” you ask, flipping through a random magazine you found in a closet.

“Yes,” he answers quickly, without a second thought about confiding in you or exposing his thoughts and secrets. “All the time. Would have saved a lot of trouble, and more lives. Can you help with this?”

You stand, walking to his side and looking at the weapons lying before him. “I found them in the shed outside, but these were all disassembled.”

“This is field stripped,” you say, picking up a pistol. “That’s a tactical training move. Whoever this was knew what they were doing.”

“Can you put them back together?”

Looking through the pieces, you nod. “Assuming all the pieces are here, absolutely.”

You smile at Victor’s willingness to trust you to help with something small, though impactful. As you clip pieces back together, reassembling the weapons quickly, you know that Victor trusts you and that you made the right decision in finding him and recruiting him to your side.

“You know, I thought that meeting you was going to go one of three ways,” you admit.

“How else would it have ended?”

“Well, you would reluctantly trust me and join my plan, not trust me and ignore me, or recognize me as an NWA agent and kill me without a word.”

“I did recognize you as an agent,” he tells you. “I figured I could still take you out after hearing what you had to say.”

You laugh, the first genuine sign of happiness you’ve shown in a long time. “Would have made it more enjoyable too.”

“Maybe,” Victor agrees, turning away from you to hide his reaction to your pleased laugh.

“Being a ghost is starting to grow on me,” you say. “I don’t want to get my hopes up too high or anything, but to me… I think being ghosts gives us a better advantage than anything else. We’re invisible, underestimated, and most people don’t even believe in us.”

Victor reaches around you, his arm brushing you back as he adds, “And when the time is right for us, we show them who we really are and what we’re capable of.”

#to being ghosts.#victor vale x reader #victor vale #vicious ve schwab #vicious

8 notes · View notes

leggerefiore · 1 year

Note

Alright, I'm curious now. How did the feral light fixture kidnapping go down? Did seeing his s/o cause some feral part of him recognize the s/o as his soulmate, and that sent him into overdrive? Or was it more of this vague 'I need to have this soul in my life' feeling that made the feral part of him come out? I'm fascinated by the idea Warden Ingo's feral side coming out when he is finally reunited with his mate that he can't remember. I'm also fascinated by how Irida dealt with explaining all of that, and what the possible fallout from the event was. I hope Ingo got Irida like the Pearl Clan equivalent of a gift basket for having to deal with that mess when he spirited his mate away to the mountains.

kinda skipped on the overly feral side buuut

cw: PLA Ingo, Chandelure Ingo, Technical Kidnapping (nothing serious), Ingo's amnesia at play

~~~~~~

Ingo would admit that he acted a bit hastily when he saw you. He knew he had lost control of his ghostly powers since landing in Hisui, often having to recall how to properly take an appropriate amount of life energy to not cause too much harm to whomever he took from. Yet… When you walked out of your home into his line of sight, he froze for a moment. Something in him cried and pleaded for you. It was unnatural and distressing, yet he found himself unable to ignore it.

So…

He watched your eyes go wide as his picked you up to carry you away. You made no move to struggle, instead of wrapping your arms around him to help better balance yourself. Of course, this was still a kidnapping under the common law of Jubilife. Irida stood horrified nearby, watching the scene unfold.

Her Warden, who already been a bit troublesome in the past out of his own volition, had just kidnapped the person she was having help the frenzied Noble issue plaguing Hisui.

This was going to assuredly upset the Galaxy Team.

Ingo apologised to you many times as he carried you further and further away from the village. You were stunned by all of this, naturally. First the sight of your boyfriend in Hisui and second the fact his primary response was to quite literally carry you away. He eventually placed you down the closer he grew to Mount Coronet. You watched as he stared at you for a moment with flustered cheeks before averting his eyes.

“What have I done?” he realised with a deep breath. You just shook your head. Classic Ingo, you almost wanted to joke before taking on his appearance. Long tattered coat, hat fallen in disrepair, eyes distant and uncertain. His flame even flickered nervously. It would almost seem like he was a different person, rather than the man you knew and loved.

“It's okay, Ingo, I know you just missed me,” you softly told him, reaching up to cup his cheeks, but he took a step away. That stung, but he likely just felt nervous about everything that had happened. “Ingo…? Are you okay?” you asked gently. How long had he been here? Since he disappeared? Poor guy must be stricken to see you and unsure of everything. At least he had seemed to end up with the Pearl Clan over Jubilife, as they were much kinder and more respecting of hybrids than the Galaxy Team.

“… I'm sorry,” he repeated while shaking his head, “I-I don't know you… I just… I just felt like I needed you. That was not at all proper behaviour from me. Lady Irida will have to handle this…” His breaths grew a bit unsteady as tears began to form in his eyes. You stood stiffly. He didn't remember you? That… seemed wrong, but entirely plausible. You approached him again and gently pulled him into a hug.

“Well, I'm not upset with you,” you spoke gently to him, “I'm your soulmate, Ingo.” You took his hand and gently placed it on your chest. His breaths slowed slightly as he closed his eyes. Ingo clung to you desperately for what most have felt like hours in only a few minutes. “I love you…" you continued. Slowly, his eyes met yours.

His eternal warmth soaked sweetly into your bones as his eyes gazed deep into something that was only visible to ghost-types. “... I love you, too,” his voice was endlessly deep, “I… should probably take you back to the village…”

You nodded.

They were likely preparing to hunt Ingo for sport.

Irida stood nervously in Kamado's office as Adaman shot her a smug grin. How could she explain the Warden's actions in a way that would not cater to Kamado's distaste for hybrids? She bites her lip as she debates seriously banishing Ingo. It was a shame how talented he was with pokemon because it was seriously the only she was currently defending him (outside of the rare advantage of having a ghost type hybrid on her clan's side).

“So, do you take full responsibility for your subordinates actions?” The Galaxy Team leader's voice could kill. She sighed. What could she do? Seriously. Adaman even seemed tensed now about everything.

“I do-” she started but was interrupted by the doors of the office slamming open.

You stood there in a heavy sweat, taking deep breaths.

“Sorry, Warden Ingo is my boyfriend! He just overreacted!"

Kamado's expression turned darker at those words somehow.

#ingo x reader #ingo/reader #pokemon ingo x reader #pokehybrid au #ingo.ima

102 notes · View notes

s0lar-ch3ri · 6 months

Text

riptide wonders that encase my head (and a theory on how MAYBE we get chibo back)

okay, the title in itself is a spoiler, but i just gotta be dramatic okay? its honestly just me pointing out shit in riptide i noticed (which i miss shit so if i got smth wrong pls tell me)

this all started from a convo about nico de angelo with my non jrwi friend btw so yeah

so, by actual account, chip is dead right? well, my non jrwi friend (@arcadianxanadus) brings up a fun idea: magically hes considered alive.

we know jack shit on how captain widows revival magic works, so lemme give you my theory notes now

captain widows magic seems to only take that full effect (murder i mean) when the victim is unconscious, im doubting it even works on someone awake as i dont recall any needed checks for those (could have to do a rewatch of jrwi oh well)

once the heart is removed from captain widow by any means, the person it belonged to dies, meaning something inside captain widow keeps that shit thumping yet also allows a connection to remain between the owner and the heart

captain widows body allows the hearts to move arround, and i dont think she has her own

grizzly mentioned in one ep that he was translating some monsters over to enemies

(mentioned by non jrwi friend!) captain widow seems to be opposite magically of the black sea. widows victims end up dead yet magically the brain is tricked into believing the body is alive so they "come back" from the dead, while those affected by corruption have the mindset of a zombie or undead but are very much alive

now for a couple questions which relate to captain widow:

(mentioned by non jrwi friend!) can captain widows magic be reversed with the opposite process? would the same process work?

can chip even be revived if captain widows magic is the only reason he is alive? what happens if he is (somehow gets a new heart), then they remove chips old heart, would chip die too?

can captain widows process even be reversed at all?

does captain widow have any connection to victims of the black sea or the corruption?

what is this womans biology like? how is any of her feats done?

(mentioned by non jrwi friend!) could captain widow give chip back his heart?

with this came questions about the black sea and mana, so accompanied by roses world map, heres my questions and notes on this shit:

the only known sorcerer onboard the midnight rose that we know of (one whos been shown to have very strong magic) that could have helped rose with what he wanted is finn

adding to the last note, yes nk is an option, but why wouldnt rose go for his loyal crew member, one who swore an oath to help him and shit?

the tidestriders have been shown to be very resistant to corruption (only reason finn struggling cause he old)

the black sea has 2 crescent shaped islands, and the viridis sea has 1 creacent shaped landmass (apon closer inspection, the royale blue ocean also has 2 crescent shaped islands, one of which being jays home land and the other being desire island)

considering how liquidus is located in a hole in the northern sea (dont wanna struggle to spell viridis), the holes can naturally occur (why else does nobody fucking question it), so the irregular part must be how it corrupted the sea

could there have been undersea people in the sakura ocean? did they get corrupted by the sea?

what actually happens if you get all corruption points?

would goobleck be affected by the goop of the sea? could he just absorb it?

is niklaus's deal actually active with chip still? would any of their deals stay active if they got corrupted?

theres a g mart in every sea. how the fuck did the black sea one get there the map literally says its the black sea already

(i forgot who mentioned it, ill go hunting after i post this) if chips dead, does the memory he lost come back? or since by magical rule hes alive it doesnt work like that?

there are ways out of the black sea! its not just cause "black rose built different", GRYFFON CANONICALLY IS FROM THE BLACK SEA.

we actually dont know much on the undersea. gillion isnt a reliable source because he didnt get to see it much, finn isnt a good source either cause his age and magic are affecting his memory, leaving edyn whod be the best source...except for the fact that shes nowhere to be found and would probably run before any questions could be asked.

any additional questions and notes are encouraged to be addedon, but now for my theory on this all...

chip can be revived by maybe a couple of 3 ways:

chip is brought to zero hp again and captain widow gives back his heart

chip is brought to max hp and captain widow gives back his heart

(for me the most likely thought) chip gets fully corrupted and (maybe needed) fails the check to remember shit

i have the most trust in the first part of theory 3. since each magic has opposite effects, maybe itll force chip back to life, thus reviving him? im hoping chip doesnt try it though, aster forbid im fucking wrong and we just lose chibo

the second part of theory 3 is there cahse (cause) maybe chip has to be fall to rise again? the only way to get up is to fall til you cant no more type shit. maybe if chip loses himself to the sea, all the magic going on will fucking return him to normal? look, im trying to be positive, and in the bleek dark trauma hole its fuckin hard

so yeah maybe grizzly plays will have mercy and even take my ideas to consideration but please. i cant handle my boy being haunted for so long

17 notes · View notes

borrowedtimeandspace · 11 months

Text

The Drum Beats Out of Time

7. Thief

From this list of gt prompts

AU: Time After Time (Twelve AU)

Note: For those following this story as it's progressed, this is where things start to go a little out of order. So far it's been fairly straightforward, one after another, but this jumps slightly ahead of Caught Up in Circles.

~~~

The willful ignorance of human beings was quite handy for a Time Lord gone incognito. The Doctor had lectured at St. Luke's for decades and he was still barely an anecdote, his idiosyncrasies written off under the assumption that he was simply eccentric.

Students hardly spared him a second glance when he ran across campus, Nardole trailing behind. A few looked up to witness the funny way they ran, but quickly went about their own student-life business. The Doctor paid them no mind. He was going somewhere much more important.

He'd received an intruder alert outside the Vault. Perhaps not as big an emergency as if the Vault itself were under direct attack, but still worth checking on as soon as possible. Couldn't have anyone messing with it or trying to open it (not that they could easily, but it was still a concern).

The door was sealed shut when the Doctor and Nardole arrived, and they exchanged a glance to agree to keep their guards up. With the alert deactivated, the Doctor swung the door open and crept down with his sonic at the ready to scan for what or whoever had intruded on their lab.

All seemed to be in order as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Hardly anything looked different, and nothing unusual was detected by the screwdriver. Nardole gave the occasional startled squeak as they searched behind the old junk lying about the place for any signs of humanoids, but they found none.

"Well, that's anticlimactic," muttered the Doctor. With its job done, he brandished his sonic toward Nardole in an accusatory manner. "Have you been fiddling with the security settings again?"

Nardole's hands flew up, exasperated. "Oh, yes, excuse me for not wanting rats to chew through our incredibly important work down here. Must've set it to trip off the wrong alarm."

Rolling his eyes at Nardole's excuse, the Doctor's gaze landed on something out of place. Some bit of copper piping that had been on one of the work tables the last he saw it, and had found its way to the floor where it rolled several feet away. Following its trajectory to its original spot, the Doctor's near constant frown quirked in thought.

"Not rats…" Leaning in for a closer look, he found some very interesting footprints in the thin layer of dust toward the back of the work table.

Boot prints, to be more specific.

"Sir?" Nardole crossed the room to see what the Doctor had spotted, only to find him grinning from ear to ear. A rare, rather off-putting sight these days. "What is it?"

"There's a thief among us," the Doctor whispered almost conspiratorially, but with a touch too much glee.

"A thief?" Nardole echoed, concerned. He began to turn on a swivel once again, as though he'd suddenly find a cat burglar making off with their things.

The Doctor huffed out a sigh. "Figure of speech, Nardole, figure of speech. Here's your intruder," he said as he redirected Nardole's attention to the marks in the dust he'd found. Pointing with a finger, he mapped out what must have happened according to the way those tiny boots left their marks. "Snuck in through this gap, took one look 'round before knocking into that pipe. Pipe tumbles, hits the ground with a loud clang, alarm bells go off, and off they go. Back into the shadows."

Nardole adjusted his spectacles as he observed. He’d never seen anything of this kind, and assumed they ought to figure out what was behind this intrusion. "Definitely humanoid. Teeny one, mind. Could it be alien, sir?"

"If it were an alien, their tech would have raised alarms by now," the Doctor said dismissively, waving off the very idea. "Obviously it's a borrower."

"You what?"

The Doctor looked to Nardole with genuine confusion. "Have we not gone over borrowers? Secret race of tiny people living hidden under the floors and in the walls all over Earth? Surely I've brought it up before.”

"News to me," Nardole shook his head, glancing back at the little footprints. As if humans weren't enough to worry about sneaking about. "Why come down here, d'you reckon?"

With a shrug, the Doctor pocketed his sonic and absently began brushing away the dust and the prints left in it. "Probably shelter, or supplies and materials. Could’ve been after food, but lucky for me they didn’t make it to my hideaway snacks–"

"Could they still be here?" asked Nardole with a bitten-back shudder at the thought. This whole thing gave him the lingering feeling of being watched.

"Doubtful," the Doctor scoffed. "All that noise, and two giants blundering in? If they are still here, they won't be for long. Particularly if they've overheard us."

Evidently deciding that was that, the Doctor's hands got shoved into pockets and he strolled out of the room and toward the exit. Nardole, briefly caught up thinking about the implications of all the Doctor had casually revealed to him, hurried to catch up after a moment.

"Now, when you say 'in the walls', are they in all the walls?" he fussed.

"Not every wall," the Doctor assured him, then turned abruptly to fix Nardole in a sharp stare. "But any wall.”

Nardole frowned as the Doctor turned his back to continue up the stairs. "How do you know all this, anyhow?"

"Personal experience," said the Time Lord after the briefest of pauses.

#gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #doctor who gt #doctor who g/t #time after time #twelve AU #the borrowers #borrowers crossover #doctor who crossover #twelfth doctor #Nardole #sfw gt #TAT: a BTaS AU #12th doctor

9 notes · View notes

lady-de-mon-coeur · 1 year

Text

Lady of my heart

Read on ao3

Language: English. Words: 782. Rated T.

Summary: Let's pretend for a moment that the second half of Exaltation didn't happen and that Ladybug spent all the evening crying on a random rooftop.

The last thing Chat Noir expected to find on a random rooftop when he was finishing the evening patrol was Ladybug. However, there she was.

She was sitting here alone, knees pulled up to her chest, face hidden between them, arms wrapped around herself. She paid him no attention when he landed beside her.

She was curling up like a scared little child who wanted to find a place to hide, because the outer world was too frightening for her to live in. Her pigtails were shaking from something that looked and sounded much like… crying.

Oh no.

His lady had not frequently shed tears in his presence. And if she was crying now, it was obvious that something was seriously wrong. How long had she been sitting here crying her heart out?

The scene made Chat Noir's heart swell with compassion and tenderness. He kneeled beside her and gently pulled her hands away from her face, trying to look her in the eyes.

"Milady, please look at me," he pleaded. "Why are you crying? What’s wrong?"

"You… don't… love me… anymore..." Ladybug barely uttered between sobs, her face twitching.

"What? No! Why do you think so?" He said stupefied.

She dared take a look at him, her sapphire eyes shimmering in the moonlight. Her face was tear-stained. She was so cute and vulnerable at that moment with her pouty lips that Chat Noir felt an urge to take her in his arms and cradle her like a baby.

"Do you think I can’t see it, Chaton? I'm not dumb," she cried, her voice full of pain. "You're avoiding me. You never call me Buguinette anymore. You didn't want to spend a few minutes with me today. You thought I was testing you."

Chat Noir felt a twinge of guilt. He thought that her trying to flirt with him earlier that day was some kind of test. It didn't even cross his mind that it might've been an awkward attempt to show him her affection. He'd totally misunderstood her. He'd left her behind without looking back. And now she was hurting and heartbroken because of him. He wanted to pull his hair out.

Without wasting any more words, he pulled her into a tight embrace. She hugged him back, burying her face in his chest, as if it were the safest place on the whole earth.

There they were, hugging each other for dear life, his hand caressing her back. She seemed to start calming down, her breath becoming more regular and peaceful, though there were still some hiccups and sniffles.

Eventually, they pulled away. He gently traced his thumb down her cheek, smiling apologetically to her.

"I'm so sorry, Milady," he finally said. "I thought it was a test you came up with. I didn’t mean to make it look like I didn't love you anymore. Please do tell me how I can make it up to you."

Ladybug looked up at him, and a mischievous fire appeared in her eyes. Suddenly, she reached her hand out and grabbed his bell.

"There's only one way you can make it up to me, Chaton," she said, a devilish smirk on her face.

Chat Noir looked at her, dumbfounded, surprised by such an abrupt change in her mood. That was an expression he'd rarely seen on her face, and he wondered what it meant.

She pulled the bell she was still holding, making him lean in. Even when his face was a few inches away from hers, he still had no idea what she was getting at.

Only when her lips were brushing his and he could feel their breaths mixing together, did he suddenly know what she was about to do. His eyes slid shut all on their own, and his mind went absolutely, completely blank.

He had a fleeting thought that she must have been waiting for this opportunity to kiss him ever since they split up, but it vanished as quickly as it had come.

It was all like a feverish dream. The fingers of her left hand got tangled in his hair, the right hand still pulling him closer to her, her warm lips merging with his.

He didn't push her away, because, although totally unexpected, it felt right. The moon was shining, the stars were twinkling, and his lady was kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

He melted into this kiss, wrapping his hands around her waist. He would let his lady do whatever she wanted. Her wishes were his commands.

My lady, Buguinette, lady of my heart, how can one not love you? You have me wrapped around your finger. Please never change, sly little bug.

#ml fanfiction #ladynoir #ml leak free #ml exaltation #ml elation #hurt/comfort #my writing

18 notes · View notes

i-love-you-all · 8 months

Text

Sneak peak

aka I promise I'm not afk from writing. I'm just working on original stories and playing video games while bracing myself for In Remembrance. FWIW, i've been occasionally publishing a Cypher centric story with Cypher/Nora as the main pair, or if you'd be interested, I have a bunch of original stories in progress atm (you'd have to msg me for those tho)

This chapter is from an idea I've had and hoarded for a bit. After this, it will go back into the pile of WIPs. It was gonna be a cheesy mentor and apprentice esque film as we see Jett develop her skills in the protocol. This will be somewhat of a crossover with R6S, but mostly just Glaz and Kapkan :)) Hope you enjoy :))

~1.4k Words Under the keep reading.

An artist and a sniper had many things in common.

Aleksander remembered watching his mentor as he painted the scenery in front of them. While Sasha was cleaning his sniper rifle, he let his thoughts drift to the training. He spent hours in one of those watch towers, practice rifle in hand with his orange paintball ammo to the side. He looked for what his mentor described. The details. A shape out of position, a bit of colour where there should be none, a shadow that was not where it was supposed to be. In the end, he shot three times. Only one landed.

“When will you learn to take your time?” Finally, something to break the silence that was gnawing away at Sasha’s gut.

Glaz put his paintbrush down and turned to face Sasha with a sigh. “Sasha, I cannot keep giving you more chances.”

“I will do better.” I must.

But in some cruel twist, it was Alexander’s drive to be perfect that was shortening his abilities. He was an excellent hunter, able to track, hunt, and then shoot his prey. But the role of a sniper was very different compared to a hunt. He was not someone on a prowl. It was an organized procedure that placed him on overwatch, looking out for his team. He was a scout without moving an inch. And he was not thriving in this role. His scores on the ground were much higher. His reputation was of a silent stalker, able to find the threat and neutralize them without the target even realizing. But to make it through the selection process, he would need to be a sniper, a tactician, a fighter - everything, as easy as that sounded...

“No. You will not. You will not because you focus too much on the result. Not enough on yourself.”

The words hurt. He couldn’t deny that, but a pout wasn’t going to help him succeed. Work, practice, and study would.

“Practicing in a range will not help. You can aim. Everyone knows that. Your problem on the field is that you can’t focus on what stands out. You only focus on the fact that you can’t miss.”

“I cannot miss, or else—”

“You cannot miss. That is the only correct thing you’ve said so far in this room. You do not often miss. But as a sniper – as the overwatch – you miss because you aim to hit the wrong things.”

Then, Glaz beckoned Sasha over to his side. He was hesitant in getting closer right now. He had not earned praise, and while he was not Maxim, Glaz was an intimidating presence, especially when he was as frustrated as he was now.

“Come and look at this painting. I have been painting this room for the past hour.”

Sasha looked over and saw part of the room in this piece. Just the window outside and the bookshelf next to it. It looked just like the real-life counterparts. He looked over at his mentor. Glaz’s eyes did a sweep of the canvas and then of the reference portion of the room.

“Do you see anything wrong with it?”

“No.” Sasha was genuine in his answer. It was a beautiful start to what would surely be a masterful painting.

“Wrong.” Glaz put down his paintbrush and with his finger just barely hovering above the still-drying paint, he pointed at a part in the upper corner of the room in the painting. “See here? The shades around the window do not match. The light above us casts a much longer shadow than what I’ve drawn.”

Ah. So this was the game today. Sasha narrowed his eyes and tried to compare the shapes. It was indeed a little shorter in the painting, but not enough so that it was noticeable right away. But if that was a purposeful mistake…

“The books on the shelf are much darker in this picture than in real life.”

“Correct. I’ve used darker colours in the painting. What else?”

Sasha furrowed his eyebrows. He could feel his mentors gaze watching him steadily as he studied the colours and shapes. With every passing second, he could feel himself losing focus. He was thinking about how disappointed Glaz must’ve been just waiting there for an answer that was not coming up. But not just that, he needed to prove that he was good enough. He had never failed anything before he got here for special training. And though he had high scores in many tests, his sniper training was dragging him down. If he couldn’t prove to Glaz that he was good enough to be here – that he could keep up with other and earn his spot—

“Sasha!”

His head snapped over to Glaz, who had just clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Stop thinking about me or the scores or anything else that happened today. This painting is your world.”

He took a deep breath, only now aware of how his lungs were burning for air. Perhaps he was in his head too much – maybe he was his own obstacle, and if that were the case, how was he supposed to overcome himself? Stop. Again, he had to reign in his thoughts. Focus. Shades of colour out of place, shadows that looked different to how they should, textures that shouldn’t be there…

“You added texture and lines to the wooden floor. Dark enough so that it’s hard to see.”

“What else?”

Sasha looked again. “The shutters have light behind them in this painting but it is dark outside right now.”

“More.”

Now that he was focused solely on the colours and what should or should not be there, it was easier. Sasha found that answers were coming to him as if he were reading a book. “There’s a corner folded on the book in real life, not in the painting. The shadows and how they meet the floor right here is a little too tall. The colour of the wall right next to the window is too light in this one spot.”

He felt Glaz clap him on the shoulder again, only this time, he was shaking him frantically and with excitement. “Good! Good! So you are not blind. You only need to do this exercise on the practice field, and you will be everything you want to be. Go rest. I will paint more and we will try again tomorrow.”

The levity in his chest made it easy to trudge his tired feet and legs back to his room. It was like a part of his brain was unlocked, and now, he couldn’t wait to see what else he noticed on the field.

For now, it started with a perfect score on the sniper exercises and a small smile on Glaz’s face.

Sova couldn’t help it. He was actually quite excited at the thought of mentoring a newer agent to the protocol. He’s had the ability to work with various people throughout his life, and he’s been the apprentice before, but this would be something completely new.

“Captain, I wanted to say again that I am grateful for the chance to train the newest agent.” He didn’t mention the part that he was a little hurt that Sage was put in front of him for this job because of her Radiant powers. Phoenix had to learn to control his radiant abilities, yes, but about battlefield tactics, he was certain that his experience trumped Sage’s.

“A bit of advice?” Brimstone said as he turned to look over his shoulder at Sova. “Don’t expect it to be easy. Every recruit is different in how learn. How they respond to a situation, how they see a battlefield, they will take steps you find stupid or reckless. She’s going to drive you up a wall before you get through to her, but don’t let that get to you. All rookies are like that.”

Sova chuckled. That was certainly true, even for someone as accomplished and experienced as himself. He remembered the various looks of anger and frustration on Maxim’s face once upon a time, or the cold patience in Glaz’s eyes the first month or so when Sova started training under his wing. But he learned so much from both of them, even outside of the battlefield, that he wasn’t sure he could ever pay them back. But perhaps he could pay it forward.

“Meet our newest agent,” Brimstone said as he opened up the door to the office. “This is Jett.”

#valorant #valorant fanfic #valorant sova #sova #valorant jett #jett #my writing #mentor/apprentice #r6s #r6s glaz #glaz #r6s kapkan #kapkan

6 notes · View notes