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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 2 years

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Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter Eight: It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year 🎃

Summary- 8.2k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. It's the day after your party and Halloween day. You wake up recalling what had happened, but Curtis strives to make it a better day for you, one that might make up for other people's senseless comments.

Warnings- Reader questioning why Curtis would choose to be with her, Smut, Male receiving oral.

A/N- Thank you to everyone who has shared, commented, sent asks, came in my inbox, and just lets me know how honest and relatable some of what is happening with Curtis and Honey is for you. I hope that this chapter makes up for some of the previous one. At least a little bit. Special shout out to @what-is-your-plan-today for reading through this and sending it back so quickly. Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Chapter Seven / Masterlist

That next morning you woke late, a glance at your phone showed it was after ten thirty in the morning and you had several texts from Claude. You didn’t have the energy to deal with her, so you just set the phone down and turned away from it. You sure as hell didn’t want to relive yesterday trying to assure Claude that you were okay and Edgar was just a bastard who you would and could ignore.

Next to you, Curtis was laying on his stomach, his bare back on display as half of the blanket was pooled down around his waist. A pillow was balled up under his head and he was still snoring softly enough to let you know that he was out of it. You shifted in closer to him, sighing to yourself as bits of last night were still fresh in your mind.

Everyone must have heard what happened last night, you sighed dejectedly to yourself while you hovered your hand close to Curtis, about to run your fingers along the expanse of his bare back. But you pulled back instead, trying to tuck yourself into a smaller space. You had heard his bellow of anger all the way in the bedroom and dread at seeing everyone look at you knowing what was going on made you feel so ashamed.

Why couldn't you just go back and rethink doing the whole party? You knew it was bound to happen, someone always had to remark on your weight and how odd it is that someone as fit as Curtis would be interested. You should have been prepared for it.

Edgar was an idiot, that much you agreed with Curtis about, any man who used that term was a jerk. You had decided that long ago. What you did wonder was why had Curtis wanted you? He was the one who went after you and you just couldn't see why right now. You didn't see yourself as special, certainly not beautiful like he always said. You were afraid to ask him, because what if he said that he didn't know why and suddenly didn't want you anymore? There it was, that vicious voice in your mind again that had seemed to disappear for a while. It was back and as vengeful against you as ever.

Curtis groaned next to you, curling an arm around you, and finished pulling himself through the bit of space left between the two of you, burying his face against your neck. “You are thinking too hard Honey.” He grunted out into your hair.

“You were asleep, how do you even know what I was thinking?” You said lightly but reached up to stroke a hand along his buzzcut.

“I could hear it in my sleep, Y/N.” His tone was raspy as he pushed up enough to press you back and he hovered over you, cocking an eyebrow in question. “And today we are about being in the moment.” He dropped to press a kiss to your lips. “It’s Halloween after all, your all-time favorite holiday ever, according to what you told me. We are celebrating.”

You kissed him back and rolled your eyes at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and stared up at him. “I should be sorry to have woken you up, but I’m not.” He planted a hand near your head and started to nip down your neck, making you tilt back and stare up at the ceiling while giggling as his other hand rubbed at your waist. “So how are we celebrating?” Letting yesterday start to leave your mind and push that vicious voice still trying to taunt you into a locked box. Maybe you didn’t need to question why Curtis was interested in you, just enjoy the fact that he was.

Curtis muttered against the fluttering pulse point behind your ear. “Right now? I'm celebrating by being in bed with you. I can’t think of anything better than that.” His nose traced the shell of your ear before he nipped at your earlobe.

“Well what about after that?” You giggled, Curtis distracting you from your earlier thoughts as he pulled up the sleep shirt you were wearing enough to get his hand on your skin, calloused hands gentle and yet pleasurably rough while tracing your curves.

“You think I’m even capable of thinking beyond that?!” Incredulous in his tone, Curtis slotted himself in between your thighs and leaned on his elbows to look down at you. “What do you want to do?”

You slid your hands against his chest to enjoy the solid feel of him and admire the tattoos while you were thinking. “Mmhh, well probably some breakfast or lunch at this point? Plus we have to clean up the house…”

“As well as get ready for tonight.” He pointed out and you gave a bit of a shrug.

“We don’t have to do that Curtis if you don’t want to.”

“But I do Honey, we decorated the porch all up for the kids and have all that candy to hand out. And by hand out, I mean me eating half of it while we are watching a scary movie.”

You seemed to lighten up a bit at that, biting on your lip and breaking out in a small grin. “Well okay, but we really need to clean the house first.”

“Tanya, Ella and Claude kind of did most of it last night before they left. In fact Claude wanted you to send her a message when you were ready.” You wrinkled your nose a bit and Curtis cupped your face, letting his thumb swipe against your cheek. “Or let her wait till Monday when you go in. We’re having fun today.”

“Yesterday was such a mess.” You groaned out with a sigh. As much as Curtis wanted it to just be a whole new day, it didn't just go away in your mind. His head tilted closer to you, a little frown making the lines on his face brow deepen.

Curtis tilted your head to him, giving a slight shake of his head. “That was yesterday, today is going to be different.” He seemed to study you for a second. “I’m sorry how yesterday ended Y/N. I know I said that no one would find out.”

You winced a bit recalling hearing his yell all the way from the garage. Your hands slid up his and down his chest a second. Maybe to ease the tension and worry he was carrying with him, but it made you feel better. You knew he didn’t mean to, Curtis always did as he promised, but you know everyone had to hear some of the conversation if you did. “You were really mad at Edgar, weren't you?”

“Mad, furious, hurt, insulted.” Curtis listed off as his feelings clearly crossed his expression. “He is supposed to be my friend and to hear he said that about my girl.” Curtis let his hand trail along your cheek and cup it to keep you looking at him. “I wanted to wring his neck. I just needed to get him out of my house after that, but I never meant for anyone to hear our conversation. I just lost a little bit of my control then listening to him deny he said anything. He wouldn't even man up to what he did.”

"They rarely do." Your hands slipped up to circle around his neck, your fingers weaving together to hold onto him. You couldn’t be upset about it, even though you wished it didn’t happen, a part of you was shocked and felt cared for that he had been so adamant about dealing with Edgar, even though you also wished he could have ignored it right then and let you pretend it never happened. “It’s okay Curtis, I’m not mad at you or anything.”

“Forgiven?” His thumb brushed against your cheek in a gentle caress.

“Of course Curtis.” You literally melted under his touch, lifting your gaze back up to meet his and giving a relieved little smile as his face eased from concern. “Wanna go get some breakfast?”

“Mmhh, actually first I really want this, Honey.” He dropped in close and started to draw out kisses from you- first they were a press of lips but then his tongue pressed against yours and his arm gathered around your waist while his hips dropped, grinding into you. Quickly making you mindless at the moment.

Breakfast officially became lunch as you two didn’t stumble out of the bedroom till around noon. You dressed casually in shorts and the flannel Curtis was wearing from last night, buttoned only at the top and tied at the bottom, Curtis managed to get himself into his sweats and a tank, following you out to the kitchen. You opted to make food first, poking your head into the fridge while Curtis gathered up the recycling bin to get the cans and bottles off the counter.

“What are you in the mood for, Curtis?” You hummed as you dug through the fridge.

On his way past he tapped your ass with an open palm, making you yelp in surprise and look over your shoulder at him as he headed to the garage. “That looked pretty damn fine to me.”

“You are absolutely no help!” You shouted after him as you opted to do actual breakfast. Neither of you actually had a hangover, but pancakes was traditional after drinking meal, plus they were easy to do. Sure you had plenty of leftovers from last night, but nothing quite hits like pancakes after some lazy morning sex.

Curtis dragged the recycling and tossed it into the back of his truck when he glanced out on the street to see Edgar’s car sitting on the curb. He was gonna have to get it moved by tonight, the street would be filled with kids trick or treating and no doubt some who were ready to play a prank. Last thing he needed was the car getting flat tires or an egging while at his place. Although Edgar would totally deserve the hassle.

Pulling out his cell phone, he ended up calling Grey to see how it all went down after he kicked Edgar out of his house. Grey answered within the first few rings. “Rare to hear from you on a Sunday.”

“Yeah well I figured I should find out if Edgar ran his damn mouth any further.” He paused in his garage opening, letting the morning air wash over him, feeling the autumn chill breeze through the few clothes he was wearing.

“No, he regretted what he said.”

“Or that he was caught.”

Grey was quiet a moment but responded. “Yeah, there is that. No denying it wasn’t his shining moment. But he crashed at my place and he has a hangover from hell right now if that helps any.”

Curtis just huffed a good in the phone while making his way down the driveway to check that the car was fine.

“What are you doing with the car?”

“Bringing it to work tomorrow. I don’t want him around here right now. I might still strangle him.” Grey gave a slight chuckle at Curtis’ tone. “I’m being serious, Grey.”

“I know man, I know. Trust me, I’m tempted to set Ella on him. She’s scarier than you.”

“Feel free to.” He muttered as he pulled open the car door. “But I do have to get it off the street, I will pull it in the garage tonight so kids don’t mess with it.”

“Probably a good idea, I will catch up tomorrow, make sure you two don’t actually kill him.”

“Yup.” Curtis hung up and slipped into the driver’s seat to start the car and pulled it into the garage. Once he was sure it was all closed up from any pranksters wanting to break in, he made his way back inside to where he found you at his stove, dipping a measuring cup into the batter and drizzling it into a hot frying pan to cook into a nice golden brown. On another burner you had several strips of bacon sizzling. He moved up behind you, circling his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. “Mmhh, smells good Honey.”

“Bacon always smells good.”

“I wasn’t talking about bacon. More like you.” He tilted his head to kiss your neck, rubbing his chin against the curve of your neck, making you tilt your head to the side for him while chuckling and letting yourself lean back into his chest. His hands slipped under your shirt and reached up to cup a breast and give a slight squeeze. Still sensitive from where he had spent time licking and nibbling on your nipples earlier that day, you gave a slight gasp, letting your head fall back to his shoulder.

“Fuck you are distracting.” You muttered out loud, trying to keep an eye on the sizzling food so that it wouldn't burn. He chuckled darkly in between nips and brushes of his lip behind your ear.

“First I was no help and now I’m distracting. Want me to leave you alone?” His hand shifted to the other breast, doing the same and testing the weight in his palm. A gentle tug made a pull all the way to your core and causing your thighs to press together to contain the sensation. How could he already know how to play you like this? It would have been infuriating if you didn't so love his hands on you. A billow of black smoke escaped the pancake pan, which pulled you out of what Curtis was doing and back to actual cooking.

“Oh shit! Yes… yes or else I’m gonna burn these pancakes if you keep going.” You squeaked as you pulled the pan off the heat and flipped them out. Curtis pressed one last kiss to your temple, able to feel his smirk as he grabbed the extra burnt pancake from the plate and blowing on it to cook it off, he took a quick bite.

“Still tastes pretty good Y/N.” He went about finishing picking up around the house while letting you finish in peace. It wasn't too long till you were setting a small dining room table with everything and calling him back. Curtis sauntered back in, with more bottles to toss in the recycling and once he sat down, he didn't give you a chance to slip past him to the other seat but hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you to his thigh.

His grasp was secure and immediately pulled you fully onto him so you couldn't readjust yourself from putting weight on his lap. You were so tense, waiting for the chair to creek or something. But Curtis rubbed at your waist and felt relaxed underneath you, confident that this was fine.

“It looks good Honey, thank you.” You couldn't help the pleased smile that flirted across your face and you relaxed as you hugged loosely around his neck for a moment in a loving manner.

“You're welcome.” You let yourself settle in his lap comfortably while the two of you made your plates how you liked it. Your pancakes got drizzles of syrup across them and Curtis opted for practically drenching them. Sharing bites of bacon between one another, you took tiny bites to drag it out. Curtis was an enthusiastic eater, vocal in how damn good it was and what did he have to do to get this every day? You soaked in the praises, feeling yourself grow lighter with every passing moment you spent in his company.

Curtis tested it gradually, little praising comments here or there just to see how you would react. At first you were shy with him, trying to brush it off as nothing but your surprised face couldn't lie. You would break into a little smile and wrinkle the tip of your nose when the feeling was a strong one. He found it a good look on you- feeling like you were appreciated. Now he was sure to give it where he could, and after the shitty time the night before, he might have been laying it on a bit thick.

Pushing his plate away once he finished, he cut into your remaining pancake and held it up to you. “It was so good, I can't cook to save my life.”

You leaned forward to take your last bite from his fork before pushing your plate away as well. “Not true, I have had plenty of stuff you’ve made. I’m stuffed.” You moved to get up and gather dishes, Curtis right behind you helping.

“Mmh, but not as good as yours.”

Together you two worked on cleaning up the kitchen and last remnants of the party. By this time it was getting to be later in the afternoon and neither of you was looking to go out. After a quick discussion of how to spend the rest of the day, it was decided that you would work on your lesson plans that you had saved to your laptop after you admitted that you really couldn’t put them off any longer and Curtis assured you that he had plenty to do. You settled with a cup of tea in the living room, spreading everything across the coffee table. Curtis got changed into some warmer clothes to work in his garage. Now and then he would poke his head in to check on you, but you were completely sucked into your project. You would give him an hum in response and your eyes would lift briefly from your screen to give him a smile.

Every time he poked his head in, studying you, you seemed to be completely engaged in your project, and not focusing on the night before. When he would disappear back into the garage, he would give a sigh of relief that today was going better for you. He just hoped he could keep today special for you.

Couple of hours later he came in, hands and forearms grease streaked with old engine grime and a rag in his hands, wiping as much away as he could. You put your laptop on the table and stretched out your legs. “About done?” You questioned and looked over the couch going from questioning to awe, your jaw dropping slightly. You had not expected that a dirty Curtis would be such a turn-on. Black streaks and a bit of sweat clung to his forehead and the tops of his cheeks were ruddy red from the chill in the garage, the hanes sweatshirt he wore was old and stained, and the sleeves were rolled up muscled forearms. His hands were failing to actually wipe away the grease streaked across them. Old black jeans were clad over thick powerful thighs and ended with boots scuffed with use which he was pulling off at the door leading into the garage. All together it made you extremely turned on.

“For tonight, I don't feel like turning on the lights in there to continue working and I wanna clean up before we settle in for the rest of the evening. I will go light up the porch and pumpkins soon.” He remarked as he started down the hallway towards the living room where you were set up. “What about you, Pretty Girl?” So smoothly he dropped that comment to see your reaction. “You got more you wanna do tonight?” Coming up to where you were, you crooked a finger at him so he leaned over the back of the couch closer to you.

You grasped his chain hanging loose and pulled him in closer to give a hungry kiss. You caught him by surprise at first, his hand bracing against the cushion and half falling over the back into you, but he soon gained control, his tongue stroking against the roof of your mouth and groaning heatedly into it. When you pull away, your pupils are blown and lips are kiss swollen.

“Uh- almost done Curtis.” You move up to a kneel on the cushions, playing with the chain still in your hold, Curtis can't hide the amused grin on his face, brushing his knuckles along your cheek.

“I'm all about continuing this…” He drew you into another kiss, making you slide your hands against his firm chest and rational thought really flew out the window for a few minutes.

You were the one to ease back, blinking at him while you put your palm at the center of his chest. “... continuing this tonight. Kids will be knocking at the door any minute.” You finished with some regret.

Curtis eyed you like he was about to challenge it, but relented with a wink. “Till later Honey, you wanna order us a pizza? My wallet is on my dresser.”

Giving a nod, he went to shower and you turned around to sit back into the couch, taking a deep inhale. “Fuck me.” You muttered, still processing the way Curtis’s look had hit you. You couldn't remember the last time you had been that turned on. Keeping your hands from dragging him over the couch and riding him had been a real test for you. Glancing back at your laptop, you really weren't going to finish it up, so you started to pack it away and went to order that pizza for delivery.

Curtis was back out quick enough, sporting his gray sweats and a comfy soft v-neck. Looking for a lighter, he sorted through the kitchen junk drawer while you were gathering up your laptop and putting it away. Sliding your bag to hang with your jacket so you wouldn't forget it in the morning, Curtis followed along behind you and led you towards the porch to help him set it up as it was slowly getting dark. The younger kids were already starting to trick or treating with their parents.

In the past Curtis’s house was usually dark, a bowl of candy sitting on a chair at the end of his driveway for kids and he would either be working in the garage or at Paulie’s for the night. This year there were several pumpkins on the stairs, including the one he had carved specially for the occasion. All lit up, you were sure to back up off the steps and admire how it all looked. A couple hay bales on the porch sported skeletons you had set up, spider webbing was stretched out around the porch's beams and spooky lights in the windows on each side of the door. He stepped off to join you, an arm going over your shoulders and grinning all proud. “Looks damn good Honey.”

“It does, people are gonna be surprised, Curtis.” You pulled out your phone to snap a picture of the porch to send to your sister and parents.

As they were standing there, a couple littles came up the driveway, their parents not far behind. They took one look at Curtis with wide eyes and then at you, the princess immediately lifting her bag with a “twick or tweet.” A ninja hid behind her a moment before getting up some courage.

“Are you a giant?”

You hid a smile behind your palm at his question, Curtis scowled a bit in surprise but he squatted down next to the ninja. “Maybe, but I’m a pretty cool giant, so you don’t have to be scared.”

“I'm not scared. I’m a ninja.” His little chest puffed out and Curtis threw up his hands in a surrender.

“Ninjas are my weakness. And Princesses” He added when the little girl started to square up a bit. “Why I’m a nice giant.”

You went to grab the plastic cauldron full of candy off the porch while the kids continued to talk to Curtis. You handed it over to Curtis who offered it to the two children, they quickly picked out what they wanted and then Curtis tossed in a few more, giving a small wave as they now happily returned to their parents.

Watching as the little family left, you giggled while Curtis straightened back to a stand. “They are not wrong… you are a giant.” Tilting your head back to look up at him.

“The better to eat you right up my dear.”

You laughed as he gathered you in his arms and you pulled him back up the porch, the candy bowl held on your hip in a one armed embrace. “That's a big bad wolf.”

“Mmhh, depends on which mythology you are going by Y/N.” He teased while you two made your way back inside to wait for the next set of kids. “But I can be your big bad wolf if that is what you prefer.”

You seemed to consider it. “You be the big bad wolf, guess that means I’m little red riding hood.”

Curtis’s eyes sparked with interest, darkening a bit as a wolfish grin spread. “That is something I can certainly play along with.”

So far several kids came to collect candy, ballerinas, firefighters, monsters, ghosts and one devil dog that Curtis absolutely couldn't help himself with. He had to pet the dog when it came up on the porch with his kids. You got to witness Curtis really get into the spirit of it, joking with the kids as they picked out the candy and even having brief convos with the parents. Ella even managed to pull up with Sophia in tow. The toddler dressed as a baby chick took one look at the house and squealed excitedly. “Uncle Curtis!” She took off running, a scolding scarecrow Ella followed right behind her, but the little chick ran up the first step, dropping her bag so she could scuttle up faster.

“Hold on baby chick!” Curtis said alarmed, sure that she would trip over her costume and he scooped up the laughing toddler.

“Take her, I’m officially giving her to you.” Ella bent down to grab the discarded bag and winked at you. “Y/N and I will drive off into the sunset with our bag of goodies.” Already you were bringing the cauldron of candy down, stuffing handfuls into the bag while Ella sorted through the cauldron, stealing the reeses with a triumphant cheer.

“That’s nice and all, but I must decline. I’m a better uncle than daddy.” He straightened out Sophia’s costume. “Are you all set to go trick or treating with mommy?”

“Yeah!” Sophia said enthusiastically. “I say tricks and treats and get candy and going to see grammy and daddy and and and…” She kept going, Curtis listening carefully and nodding. Ella was eating her reeses and smirking to you.

“And he claims he won’t one day make a great dad, idiot.” She shook her head in disbelief at her cousin and turned back to you. “How was your day today?” She asked kindly, clearly testing to see if you were still upset about yesterday.

“Embarrassed about yesterday, but good. I have all your bags of chips, do you want them?”

“Don’t be!” Ella shook her head and turned her attention back to Curtis and Sophia talking. “Edgar was being an asshole, he is like that when he is drunk but there's no excuse for what he said. This time he ran his mouth and hurt people with it. I wish Curtis had roughed him up. Keep the chips, I know where to get more.”

You were thankfully saved by Curtis bringing Sophia back over from having to answer Ella, the little girl squirming in his arms. “I think she is ready to go trick or treating.”

“Tricks or treats!” She hollered out and he set her down, she waved at you briefly before she started to head towards the car.

“Jesus! I gotta go, nice chatting with you.” Ella said as she bolted after Sophia to grab her hand. “Hey kiddo, what did we talk about before? You gotta hold my hand while we go get the goods, okay?” She opened the door and buckled her in. Curtis wrapped an arm around you and together you two said your goodbyes to Ella and Sophia, watching them drive off to hit up the other part of the neighborhood. You two made your way back inside the house to wait for the next set of kids.

By the time the pizza driver was coming up the driveway, you were digging out some bills to hand to him, reaching around Curtis while he was letting the next set of kids dig through your cauldron. Bringing the pizza inside, you were just opening the box to grab a pepperoni when Curtis came in, shifting through the last bit of candy and snagging a reese cup just like Ella had, to unwrap it. “We’re just about out.” He said worried and you shook your head while nibbling on the pepperoni, leaning against the counter’s edge.

“I bought another bag, it’s in the pantry.” You offered him the last bite of your prize, his teeth purposely catching your finger tip before retreating with the snack.

“It’s like you’ve done this before.” He teased as he bit half the reeses in his hand and grabbing the new bag, he offered you the last of his candy.

This time it was your turn to tease, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sucking them clean of the melted chocolate, making him groan at the warm contact. “Maybe a time or two.”

“Fuck Honey.” He groaned before pressing you against the counter, hands planted on either side of you. “Show me how you do that again.” He leaned in closer to you, crystal blue’s boring down at you heatedly while popping you up to sit on the counters edge.

You wrapped arms around his neck and pulled yourself closer to lay your lips against his, sure to wrap your tongue around his in the same manner you did his finger all while scratching at the back of his neck to grasp him in closer. It was more heated which made Curtis groan hungrily against you. Your legs wrapped around his waist while he came in closer, pulling you by your hips to the counters edge. Curtis raced a hand up your back to grasp

the back of your neck, tilting your head and taking some control of the kiss, drawing these needy noises out from you.

Ding, ding, ding,

No, not the doorbell you practically screamed when you felt Curtis sigh into your mouth, starting to pull away.

Trick of Treat, smell my-

You wrapped your hand into his chain and yanked him back into you for a few seconds, biting playfully at his bottom lip and dragging your tongue over it while finally letting him go. “Better go answer that.”

Curtis literally growled as his eyes dropped to your swollen lips. “Fucking hell.” He muttered as he tugged at his tightening sweatpants, trying to hide himself better. You giggled and hopped off the counter's edge.

“I will hand out this bit of candy. You seem to have a -well a really hard problem to deal with.” You brushed past him with the caldron of candy protecting you from him although you made a show of swaying your hips to the door, making him cuss once more behind you.

“All because of you Honey.” His tone was deep and almost primal sounding, making you chuckle at his dilemma.

Opening the door, you grinned at the group you had before you. “You all look so good!” Holding out the caldron for them to reach in and grab handfuls of candy for their bags. Several more groups came up, just about clearing out the last of your candy supply. Making sure everyone had a chance to get some, you waved goodbye before closing the door. You grabbed one of the fun size milky ways in the bucket and wandered back towards the kitchen to find Curtis gathering napkins, plates and one of your juices while he also grabbed a beer for himself. “Now there really isn't too much candy left.”

Curtis glanced at an old kitchen clock. “Yeah, people start winding down for the night right about now. Perfect time for us to kick back a bit.” His head nodded towards the living room where he had pulled the couch closer to the tv, making it a bit more intimate, blankets draped over the back of the furniture, curtains drawn to make the room almost movie theater dark except for the glow of the red Netflix screen.

You followed him in, clearing off a spot of the coffee table to accommodate the box. “That is fine by me. Oh, let me grab one thing and we can watch Halloween. I already have it on my queue list.” You skipped off to grab the last of the candy and set it out on the doorstep with a note left on it to have a Happy Halloween. Grabbing Curtis’s jack-o-lantern to bring inside, you made your way in and turned off the porch lights, leaving the glowing pumpkins as the last bit of light for the remaining kids to find the candy by. Carrying your favorite pumpkin Curtis made into the living room, you carefully set it up in view of the both of you. “Now it’s officially Halloween. Candy handed out, pizza ordered, movie queued, decorations lit up and...” You were sure to turn away while Curtis crashed down on the couch.

“And what Y/N?” He questioned as his long gray sweat clad legs stretched on either side of you, you turned around and lowered to your knees between his spread thighs, arching your brow up at him while trying to seductively flash your glow-in-the-dark vampire fangs at him.

“And I’m all dressed up to play Curtis.”

His eyes widened at you, breaking into an amused grin. “Fuck yes you are.” His hands cupped along your face and drew you to sit up higher on your knees to kiss you, which proved to be hard with the addition of the fake teeth, making you both snort laughing as you two broke apart. “Even if I can’t kiss you, you are.” Pressing his lips against yours. “So. Fucking. Hot.” The fact he couldn’t stop kissing you made your toes curl in anticipation. After last night, you had almost gotten rid of the fake fangs, but now you were mentally thanking the dollar store where you had purchased them a few weeks ago for having them in stock.

Your hands went flat against his thighs so you could pull yourself in closer and you lowered back again to rest against the back of your calves, wriggling to make yourself comfortable between his thighs. “Christ Honey, you're going to drive me crazy. You are full of surprises.” When you two had talked about what both of you were comfortable with, he mentioned that this was fine with him, but you hadn’t given him head yet. Not that you haven’t thought about it, especially when he wore his gray sweatpants that hid nothing, even now the fabric couldn't hide the bulge in front of your face.

You leaned over him, nipping at the draw strings hanging in the front off his pants while mouthing at his cock through the fabric, making him arch into your touch with a hiss. Your fingers pushed up his shirt, muttering. “Get it off Curtis.”

He surged upwards to grab the back of his v neck and pulled it over his head to toss it across the room while you used those plastic teeth on him as more skin started to show. Sinking the fangs into the softness of his belly, you started using your tongue to swirl gently licks against his flesh. You got the pleasure to see red creep up the front of his chest and along the muscles straining on his neck. Trailing the line of hair flowing up his pecs. You trailed teeth along his tensing abs, your fingers dancing along behind your bites that were causing playful pink spots to flush a story across his torso.

Curtis resisted the urge to touch you, his hands fisted in the couch cushions while watching you from under his lowered lashes as he leaned back into the seat, his eyes hungry. At first he wanted to bury his fingers in your hair and push you where his body wanted you,but this was much better, feeling you build him up, make him ache for more.

Seductress; could it be that there were actually women who could cast spells? Because he would have sworn up and down that is what was happening on this halloween night.

You scraped those teeth against a taunt pink nipple that made him arch in his seat, gripping the back of your head momentarily to keep you right there, repeated flicks of your tongue kept him distracted. Wriggling your fingertips under the band of his sweats, you wrapped your hand around his cock.

That made Curtis groan, feeling your fingers circle around his girth and ease him out, running a hand up and down his cock while nipping at his chest. You pressed just enough against him that he could imagine how fucking hot it would look if you rubbed him between your tits.

Curtis’ head was tilted back, letting himself enjoy the sensations your playing brought. One hand was still holding onto his sanity by permanently indenting his couch cushion, the other was now grasping at the back of your head from where he had held you against his chest. You popped the vampire fangs out, running your tongue down to his belly while rubbing your chest against his erection. Curtis couldn't stop the way he rutted against you, now aching to have you swallow his cock and hear those precious gasps as you tried to relax while he fucked himself in your mouth. Your hands still swept up and down his cock, dragging your thumb over the droplets of precum already threatening to dribble.

The beginning of his downfall, a willing fucked out mess for you.

Right now he looked more like a coiled predator, dark eyes following the way your lips would press kisses to the tip of his cock, the drag of your tongue a promise of what was to come. It satisfied you seeing the tense way his jaw clenched watching you and a tilt of his head as something snapped in him. His hand tightened at the back of your head and he rumbled out deeply. “Are you going to keep teasing Honey?”

Were you going to keep teasing? It was your plan as you dragged your tongue along the throbbing thick vein from tip to base, burying your nose in the nest of hair and mouthing at his balls. “Maybe… Although…” You moved back to kiss the tip, wrap your lips just around him and start to suck on him. His hand at the back of your head pushed down slightly, which you were more than willing to accommodate more. The taste of his precum mixed with the velvet hardness dominated your mouth but nothing matched the way his sputtering curses made you feel.

“Fucking christ-” You heard him groan out. “Just like that Honey, god your mouth…” You bobbed your head a bit before the pressure came back. “Just a bit more- yes, fuck yes, just like that. Taking me so good Honey.” You could feel the vein throbbing against your tongue, his tip pushing in your cheek before you adjusted, willing to try and take him all. “Fuck you are going to make me cum right in your mouth Honey.” He choked out as you bobbed more, hollowing your cheeks to really tighten around him. It was when you finally started to attempt to ease him in your throat did you sputter, making him let go of his grip on your head.

“Fuck I’m sorry.” A glance up showed that even though he was still worked up, worry clouded his eyes and you just couldn't have that. Not when you wanted him glassy eyed from you working him over so good. You pulled off his cock, kitten licking the tip while jerking him in your hands.

“Curtis, this is what I want you to do. I want you to fuck my mouth, hard.” You leaned in against him, nipping on his now taunt belly. “I want you to cum so hard I have difficulty swallowing it all. I want you to use me to feel good.” You could see his hands digging into the couch cushions. “And I don’t want you to worry I can’t take it. Trust me Curtis, I want you to ruin me.” Before he could even answer, you made yourself comfortable with him in your mouth again, bobbing your head to get plenty of saliva coating his thick cock and you hummed around him when you felt his hands cup your face, dragging his thumbs over your cheeks where you made sure he could feel himself.

It was like you had unlocked a door for Curtis. He was really holding back before but now he took over, his hands bobbing you faster, hitting the back of your throat with a thick tip that you ended up gagging around, spit started foaming at the corner of your mouth. The sheer force made you grab onto his thighs, bracing yourself. “Fuck, first I’m going to ruin your mouth, then your pussy. Fucking made for me Honey.”

You hummed in encouragement, squeezing your eyes shut as tears did start streaming down, mixing with your drool. Between your thighs you started to ache for friction, anything to help get you off and you had to let go of his thigh in order to bury your fingers between your thighs to rub at your clit.

“That’s right Pretty Girl, get yourself off.” He panted out, his head falling back, and jaw clenching as you moaned around him, encouraging him to spill, wanting him to spill himself and you could hear him getting closer.

“Oh fuck- I’m not gonna last, so fucking good.” His movements started staggering, holding you down on his cock longer so your nose was buried in that patch of hair. You tried holding as long as you could, but when you started struggling, he let you pull off to breathe before you were bobbing back on him, determined he was going to come where he wanted.

A shudder and he gave a sputtering alarm before he was shooting his load down your throat. You did your best but white creamy spend escaped from the seam of your lips, dribbling down your chin, mixing with the drool and tears, he loosened his hold to stroke his hand over your hair. “Fuck Honey, that was…” You ran your tongue on his cock again, swirling the tip and sure to look up at him all spent, letting the mess stay on your face for the moment. In your experience it was always appreciated. Your head laid against his still quivering thigh, smiling up at him with a cock drunk expression. His hands swept down to gather you up, making you yelp in surprise when he pulled you up to straddle his lap like you weighed nothing. “... Get up here Honey.” Large hands cupped your face as he dragged you to him in a messy kiss, not even caring that you were a wreck covered with cum and drool. His tongue slipped against yours, tilting you in closer for a moment till he broke away. “Take your shirt off.”

You already had it half off, suddenly feeling all hot and bothered as it was tossed away. Curtis’s hands gripped your waist and flung you against the couch, he followed along, squeezing your tits and kissing along your collarbone. You wriggled under Curtis, trying to drag your pants off and his as well while Curtis kissed and licked over your breasts, large hands covering them and squeezing them for more mouthfuls with your hardened nipples. You panted above him, digging your fingers into his upper back, marveling at the power rippling in your hold. A pull of your nipples into his warm mouth had you arching, pants halfway pushed down from both of you and tangling together. Your cunt needed anything right now and you pushed at his shoulder. “Pants.”

Pupils dilated to make his irises black lifted to acknowledge what you wanted and he kissed you in an urgent manner before pulling away to drag your clothes off.

“Why did we even bother with these?” He scowled out as he dragged your panties off next and as he fumbled with his own, you pushed up to kneel on the couch, wrapping your fingers in the chain bouncing off his chest and pulled him back to you, having him cover you while you spread your thighs to give him room. His hand planted on the arm of the couch to brace himself over you as you stared up at him.

“I don’t remember why, just fuck me Curtis.” You pressed your hips up to grind into him. His eyes sparked feeling your wet pussy grinding into him, his hand lowered to rub between your folds, pressing a finger in to stretch you open. You clutched at the back of his neck while lifting yourself enough to tease a pink nipple covered in a dusting of dark hair. The eagle tattoo stretching over his pec was nipped at. This was frantic and needy, a sensation you haven’t experienced in so long that you didn’t want to loose it and let your typical sensible bullshit in assessing everything you were doing take over.

“Fuck Honey, shit....” He hissed out as you fluttered around his fingers, a gush of your slick escaping his fingers rutting into you. “I don’t have a condom. They are all upstairs in the bedroom.”

“It’s fine, I don’t need one and I trust you.” You said earnestly, rubbing yourself into him once more with an ache wanting to be filled.

“Okay, okay, good.” He muttered out and grasping his cock, he lined up against your entrance and easily slid into you with a moan escaping from him, you gasped at the same time, burying your face against his shoulder. “Like you were made for me Honey.”

Curtis swore up and down he could happily stay right here, your velvet walls gripped him so tight he could have come right there and you were so soft and giving underneath him. So much better without the condom, you felt so good squeezing around him, your walls fluttering as he pumped himself into you.

Your lips were swollen temptations that he couldn't help but taste again. His tongue slid against yours, his hips pumping and your legs curled over his waist instinctively while he fucked you into the couch. Dragging his mouth away from your gasping mouth, Curtis was sure to watch your expressions, a grind of his hips and shifting himself, your eyes rolled back.

Your toes curled, your fingers dug into the tense muscles of his back. Curtis had managed to pound himself right into your sweet spot and it was the most electrifying pleasure that ever filled you. “Shit.” You curled into his body, Curtis’s hand grasped the back of your thigh, pushing your leg back further. You swore he was splitting you in two and you didn't want it to stop. “Fu-Oh God Curtis, I can’t.”

“Can't what Honey?” He nipped at your ear, fingers digging into the fleshier part of your thigh and hooking your calf over his shoulder, making you arch your head back, enough so he could drag the rasp of his beard against your neck and down to your bouncing breasts, sucking on them.

“Can’t take it, I need to cum Cu-” Your voice choked out in a sob.

“Cream all over my cock Honey, let me feel you sweet girl.” Curtis encouraged and you clutched at him. He dropped himself to rub against your clit, knowing it would be that push you needed. Your yell was strangled as you came, a spiral of pleasure melted you underneath Curtis, his hips still snapping against you when he gathered you in his arms, closing you into his hold and a stuttering thrust made him release in your wanting body, filling you with his spend. You were dazed underneath him, prepared to feel him sink over you but he tightened his arms around you and pulled you both to your sides, clinging to each other to keep from falling off the couch.

Even though he was softening in you, Curtis made no move to pull himself from you, instead tucking your head under his chin, and his oversized hands curled into the fleshy part of your thigh wrapped around him, the other braced a hand against the center of your back to keep you pressed to his chest.

You were both sweaty, chest heaving and panting for drags of shared air. Tilting your face into his neck and pressing a kiss against his adams apple, you pushed up slightly. “Happy Halloween Curtis.”

Tilting his head down, he gave a smirk. “Well now I see why this is your favorite holiday Honey.” He shifted the two of you again, this time sitting up with you straddling his lap, he still somehow managed to keep you on him, even soft he was thick inside of you.

Your arms draped over his shoulder as you sat back a bit, laughing. “I have never had a Halloween like this before Curtis.”

“How about we make it a regular thing? Ruin each other on the couch.” He teased and you tilted forward to press a kiss to his mouth.

“I feel like that is something I can get behind.” Your eyes softened affectionately while his hands rested to your waist, giving a slight squeeze. He felt accomplished. Not only were you looking at him all sleepy eyed and sexy with this freshly fucked out look, everything that happened the night before didn’t seem to be plaguing your mind.

Curtis would take it.

#life is short so make it sweet #curtis everett and honey #curtis everett x honey #curtis everett #curtis everett au #curtis everett and you #curtis everett and reader #snowpiercer #snowpiercer au #chris evans characters #curtis everett x plus sized reader #curtis everett and plus sized reader #plus sized reader #curtis everett and plus!sized reader #curtis everett x plus!sized reader #amber writes #sweater writes

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heartshapedbubble · 2 years

Note

Can you do headcanons of aesop , and norton seeing that there girlfriend who used to have long hair and she decides to cut it short please ?

ooo v interesting ask indeed! these are a bit short so sorry about that but here you go🤲

aesop carl and norton campbell with a s/o who decided to cut their hair hcs⚰️🧲

aesop carl⚰️

aesop really likes the texture of your hair it's a bit weird

whenever you two are laying in bed he often runs his fingers through your hair, touches and inspects your split ends, and will even braid it if you let him

even if it's his just coming up behind you or standing next to you you can feel his hand stroking your hair, adjusting your ponytail and tucking your hair behind your ear

so when you come home one day with a short bob cut (or pixie cut! just insert whatever short haircut that fits your niche) you can notice a slight change in his voice, almost if he was a bit upset

"where did your pretty locks go?" he said as he ruffled your sharply-cut short hair

he's going to get used to it fairly quicky though!

short hair means new textures to touch and experience - he's going to be very fascinated if parts of your hair had been shaved/you decided to go with a buzzcut, it's very fun to touch the sharp needle-like surface

if you're interested in dyeing it he'd be more than happy to help - aesop really likes motoric tasks/tasks that require precision and the smell of various chemicals, plus it's a nice way to bond

also would offer washing your hair - aesop is very good with any kind of task involving self care or cosmetics, really😭 he knows exactly how much pressure to put on your scalp and is very gentle with you,,

he loves you lots no matter if you have long or short hair, a haircut simply can't change that💕

norton campbell🧲

nort really strikes me as a person that LOOOVES their s/o's hair

think ruffling and playing with it 24/7, his fingers are always tangled in it whenever you two are sleeping

his favourite thing is just grabbing you by your cheeks and smelling your hair aka literally BURYING his face in it (especially if he startles you doing so) his only excuse is that your hair smells nice okay🥲

aaaand when you arrive, more than half of your hair chopped off, you really didn't know what to expect from him

is he gonna be upset? mad? annoyed? you know how much he loves your hair

well this man LOVES IT the second he sees you for the first time after your haircut he gets all giddy and happy he's literally giggling and kicking his feet

tells you how much cuter you look now that your hair doesn't hide your cute cheeks (hes a wholesome cunt alright) and ruffles your hair HARRRD it never fails to make you red in the face

would ruffle the sides of your hair and put his helmet/cap on your head so you look like him hehe

he'd definetly make like a mini ponytail on the top of your head and gush over how funny and adorable it looks

in conclusion nort is a sucker for you no matter your hairdo and a puny little haircut won't stop him from being an adorable little bastard send message

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thegoblinboy · 1 year

Text

This was just a Drabble I wrote with Hopper, Wayne and Eddie

Wayne Munson. Where should Hopper even begin. Holding up the case file to thirty some year old was not in his plans for the day. Nor were their any plans on having a scrawny ten year old sitting in front of his desk right now holding nothing but a black garbage bag in his right hand and a black beat up teddy bear in the other. Sitting here Hopper wasn’t sure if the guy was going to be able to handle this. Children were a lot of work, he would know with a five year old of his own running around the place. This boy on the other hand, looked to be around ten. There didn’t seem to be much innocence left, his shoulders were tense as if he was off to war and Hopper already caught onto him stealing Freddie’s Hershey bar. Who was going to bitch about it later, but Hopper would make sure to pay him back. Not only that but he seen the file the case worker left with him. This kid had a larger track record than some of the old drunken fools in this town.

It’s almost as if they were having a staring contest. Sizing each other up in a sense. Hoppers moves a hand to his face scratching the facial hair that was starting to grow to try matching his mustache. Making a sound that makes the kid flinch, cringing as if the noise bothered him. He doesn’t say anything, stays standing in front of the desk. Hopper wasn’t the greatest with kids. He could barely handle his own brat at home. Though he knew if Sarah somehow ended up in this situation he would want to her to be treated as humane as possible. No matter what she did. Which was exactly what he was going to do. He finally breaks as he leans back in his chair letting his tense shoulders relax. Revealing the awkwardly hidden Hawaiian shirt that was underneath his deputy coat. Breaking dress code, but it was hard doing this line of work without lightening the mood a little bit. It seems as if the horrible pineapple faces seem to do the trick as the kids face cracks a little. Fighting not to laugh.

Hopper pretends to not understand as he looks down pulling at the button up, only revealing even more fruit with funny faces on it. Causing the boy in front of him to let a soft snort go. He jokingly gasps when he realizes he was having a break with this kid. Trying to act offended he teases the other, “what? A cop can’t wear a Hawaiian shirt and not be taken serious?” Even though he tries he fails to be serious. His voice waivers with amusement, each word making the kids body relax just a little more. The kid finally removes the hood from over his face allowing Jim to get a better look at his bruised face. The uneven buzzcut that was a little to close to the scalp. He flinches himself as he tries to imagine his kid looking like that. Who ever did this had a special place in hell set off to the side for them. And if Hopper made it there before them, well he was willing to help torture the bastard.

Silence falls over them for a little to long but the kid seems to be trying to gather his words. Hopper had read the file, knew his name was Edward. But not wanting to trigger him by using a name that his abuser may have used was the first thing he thought of. He’s seen enough abuse victims coming in and out of here. Watched the way Joyce and Jonathan Byers would flinch at certain words. No matter how they were used. “Whats your name kid?” He asks. Deciding that maybe directing the conversation would be the best thing to do. Watching carefully every move the boy makes, gesturing for him to sit to then watch as he nearly collapses in on himself as he sits down. Wincing in a way that made Hoppers barely beating heart break.

“Edward?” the voice is soft and shattered a bit. No confidence in anything he does. He clings onto the bear against his chest as Hopper pauses. Thinking how he should handle this. There wasn’t going to be much time between the two of them, with Wayne Munson on his way to the station as they spoke. He wanted to make a impression on this kid. One that told him no matter what, he was always going to be here for him. He shakes his head a little as he leans forward on his desk, getting a closer look to the light scar above the others eyebrow.

“You sure? My names Jimmy, but everyone calls me Jim. What do you like being called kid?” He asks as delicately as he can. Watches the other freeze as if no ones asked him what he’s wanted. The pause is long and Jim is patient. Looking at the other carefully, who seemed to be coming up with his new identity as they spoke. Carefully thinking about what he wanted to be called. It wouldn’t surprise the chief of Hawkins to much of the boy was barely called anything but Edward or a curse word.

“Eddie,” Eddie says gently as he fidgets. Squirming in his seat a bit. Jumping up when he hears loud commotion from outside the door. Wayne Munson was now in the building and was not going to be held back from his nephew. Whom he has never met before, but Hopper already knew that little Eddie was going to change Wayne’s life for the better.

“Well Eddie, why don’t you stay here just for a second while I go talk to your uncle. If you want to steal another chocolate bar I have two more in the bottom right drawer,” he smiles as he moves to get up. Moving his way around the room. Moving behind the chair and catches onto the way Eddie cowards. He clicks the door gently behind him as he sees Wayne Munson coming to him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this sober Munson,” Hopper comments. Already becoming a protector to someone that he barely knew. He watches the way the other man flinches under his words. Rubs the back of his head nervously.

“Couldn’t stomach the thought of drinking knowing what the hell my brother did,” Wayne’s eyes are pained. In a wake up call Hopper had taken the case file along with a worker to the man’s trailer a week before. Going into great detail about what had occurred in Eddie’s life. All that they knew about anyway. Which was not all that much, but the small bit they did know made them all only imagine what could happen. The look on Hoppers face seems to be good enough for Wayne to ramble out. “Jim, I’m in a AA meeting. I cleared the whole house out of the damn beverage. Spent my last pay check on stuff for the kid instead of booze. I’m not going to fuck this up Hopper.” He rambles out.

Hopper is glaring a hole into his head as he reminds the other, “remember Wayne. The only reason why he’s with you is because you are the only living relative. The case worker wasn’t to keen on putting him in another alcoholics house, you better prove to her that I was right about you. Or else I will make your life a living hell Wayne. Mark my words.” He says seriously. “His names Eddie- not Edward.” He adds as he moves opening the door for the other to enter. Watching the way he quickly scurries in and nearly freezes at the sight of the boy. Hopper doesn’t eavesdrop, just keeps a close distance away just in case something went wrong. Like with him Eddie is closed off. Something he had assumed would happen.

Though something seems to shift when Wayne pulls out a photo. From where he was sitting Hopper could tell it was a woman’s. He would only assume it was Eddie’s mother. Something is said but hopper can read the elders man’s lips. Says something along the lines of, “I’ve been holding onto this for you, thought you would want it more than me.”

When Eddie walks out of Hawkins police department with Wayne Munson, Hopper had a good feeling about this. It was a good sign that the kid wasn’t leaving like he had come. Kicking and screaming. One of the cops was still joking about the possibility of having rabies to this day. Even eleven years later as Hopper slammed the door of his truck. Parked in front of the Munson trailer. Where only Wayne Munson lived now. Hoppers heart ached, but from happiness as he came with good news. In the back of the police car, Eddie Munson had been found after the earth quake. Quickly cleared of all charges but was still determined “dead” for the next couple of days. Probably the last few peaceful days of the munson residence for a long while. And when Wayne Munson answers the door, completely sober and with no beer can in sight. Hopper knew he was right about the other man, and he couldn’t have been any happier gambling like that.

#wayne munson #jim hopper #Eddie munson #Eddie Munson coming to Hawkins for the first time #foster Eddie Munson #stranger things #eventual Steddie #Steve cry’s harder then Wayne #eddie stranger things

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76istracersdad · 7 months

Text

plants - 3.2k words, incomplete

ft. a lot of jack comparing himself to lena and feeling guilty about it, speculation about the slipstream & overwatch's involvement in it, and government coverups

hi all - i figured i'd start posting some of the fic i've written over the years to make this a better archive. note - none of these are complete :(

this one is titled just "plants" and was written late 2020. i think i was aiming for an overarching theme of perennials vs annual plants (ie ones that last and ones that die to put it bluntly) thus some of the plant based commentary.

only change i've made is cassidy's name.

Lena Oxton is, by far, the best candidate for the Slipstream. Her test scores are perfect across the board, her commanding officers give glowing reviews of her abilities and all mention her natural aptitude for taking on challenges, and leadership abilities that shine despite her position as a non-commissioned officer. Despite the flight program not technically being under Jack Morrison’s command, he is currently the highest ranking officer in Switzerland right now, and Director Petras wants to give this ace pilot a warm welcome. And neither he nor Ana Amari, his second-in-command and the woman sitting directly to his right, know anything about this mysterious pilot.

“They didn’t even give us her age,” Ana comments idly, legs crossed at the ankles and fingers tapping on the table. “She could be older than you, Jack.”

“I thought you said that was impossible?” Jack tosses back, smirking a bit despite the uncomfortable situation they’re both in. First meetings in any military-esque organization are rarely actually first impressions, due to the personnel files stored on anyone who’s ever so much as sneezed on a recruiter. He runs a hand through his grey hair, thinning and receding at the front. Ana’s has gone grey as well. Gabe, the lucky bastard, is the only one out of the three of them to even have a hint of his original hair color left, and he shaves most of it off and sticks a beanie on top just to spite them.

Jack’s pulled out of his musings by the sound of a knock on the office door, and he and Ana stand up straight. “Come on in,” Jack says, a little unprofessional and hits the button to open the door.

Lena Oxton is, in fact, not older than Jack or Ana. Ana stiffens a bit next to Jack when she sees the younger girl, smiling wide and walking confidently in RAF service dress, two chevrons on her arms denoting corporal rank. Her hat is tucked underneath her arm, and the sergeant who walked her here nods and salutes to Jack. Jack nods back at him, and he takes his leave. It’s a meeting just between the corporal and Overwatch, after all.

“Good morning Strike-Commander Morrison, Captain Amari,” Lena Oxton says, maybe out of turn but her eagerness and the sharp salute she gives them, all with a cheerful grin on her face, makes Jack let it go.

“At ease, Corporal,” Jack says, waving his hand and motioning towards a chair across the table from him and Ana. Ana is still silent next to him, and it’s only from years of service together does he know that she’s silently furious. He hasn’t let himself feel any anger yet, and instead pulls a notepad out from underneath the limited files he has on Oxton. Clicking his pen once, he gives her a small smile and says, “I have to say, you’re not exactly who we were expecting.”

Lena smiles wider, back straight but legs kicking in the seat a bit. “I get that a lot,” she admits, tilting her head. Her hair is short, obviously growing back out from a buzzcut, and is already beginning to show signs of wildness. It makes Jack wonder how recently she got out of basic training.

Ana’s one step ahead of him as she asks, “When did you become a corporal?”

“Earlier this year,” Lena answers. Ana frowns, and Lena’s posture becomes nervous, looking between Ana’s own displeased face and Jack’s clearly shocked one. “They streamlined me, sir, they said because of natural aptitude. I’m far from the youngest enlisted.”

“How old are you?” Jack asks, a bit afraid of the answer. The RAF would know better than to send them a child. Cassidy was strictly kept off the battlefield and not given an official position until six months after he turned eighteen, all at Reyes’ hand. Even then, it made them all uneasy. Jack and Gabe knew too much about being selected for a special program when they were too young to understand everything that was going on behind the scenes, blinded by patriotism and the concept of being special. They were eighteen then, too.

“Eighteen, sir, as of a few months ago,” Lena replies, grin gone and face now matching the solemn feeling of the room, although she doesn’t seem to understand it. She looks as if she wants to argue for her case, prove her worthiness, tell them to give her a chance and let her show her skills, thinking they might reject her because of naivety. Neither of them doubt her skills, though, and neither does Director Petras, who all but ordered Jack to approve this girl for the Slipstream.

The rest of the interview goes normally, with Oxton thanking them effusively when Jack tells her the position is hers. Jack knows this was all orchestrated over their heads when she tells him the RAF already shipped her belongings over to Zurich. They insist on walking Oxton over to her new quarters, where her room is designated by a fresh new nameplate and a singular cardboard box on the desk inside.

“Wicked,” she says, looking around the room, and then turning back to them and saluting crisply. “I’ll do my best here, Strike-Commander, Captain!” She promises, and Jack just nods and gives her a thin smile as he and Ana walk away. It’s not until they’re in Jack’s office again does Ana speak.

“She’s younger than Fareeha when she left home, for goodness’ sake!” Ana yells, Jack sitting in the office chair and looking thoughtfully at the personnel files. Mysteriously, they only showed up when Jack had approved Oxton for the Slipstream position. Ana reads them over his shoulder, flipping the page before he finishes, making him look up at her, annoyed.

“Listen to this. Lena Oxton, age eighteen. Applied for the Royal Air Force when she was fifteen, Jack. Fifteen. Enlisted as early as she possibly could.”

Jack rubs at his eyes tiredly, already resigned to the whole situation. Petras already strong armed everyone into it, and it seems like he has the backing of the United Kingdom.

“I know that, Jack.” Was he speaking out loud? “What I’m saying is, she’s maybe not the youngest person to ever be drafted for Overwatch, she is the youngest one enlisted on base right now.” Ana frowns, sitting down on the desk across from Jack and sighing. “I just don’t like it.”

“Me neither. But it seems like it's gone above our heads, again,” Jack grumbles, running a hand through his hair again and leaning back in the chair. “Best we can do is offer a support system. Maybe introduce her to Cassidy.”

The conversation switches to a less disheartening topic, from the new recruit to old friends and their new updates. After an hour or so, Ana excuses herself to go to dinner, chiding Jack lightly and reminding him to eat. After threatening to set Angela on him, she leaves, the door shutting quietly behind her. Jack gathers up Lena Oxton’s scattered files and reviews them again, this time without Ana grabbing the papers out of his hands.

The majority of it is test results in more detail, seemingly to justify choosing Oxton over a more experienced candidate. They even included her high school transcript, which shows a fairly average student before it stops abruptly, replaced with military academy grades. It shouldn’t surprise him. The United Kingdom had increased their recruitment rates for the Omnic Crisis and continued to take on new recruits after it ended.

At the very end of the file are photos from various points of Oxton’s career. The most recent was only taken a few days ago, Oxton giving a half-smile at the camera. The oldest two are most striking, however. They seem to show a before-and-after: in the before, Lena Oxton scowls at the camera, head half-shaved and hair dyed white. The after shows her, still scowling, in a military academy uniform with a nearly-bare head. The pictures give him more insight into Oxton than any of her official records do.

Jack makes a note to himself to talk to Lena Oxton before she leaves the base for the Slipstream project.

Of course, he never gets that opportunity. It isn’t until a week after the Slipstream incident that Jack gets to read the report. One pilot missing in action. One teleportation matrix currently being searched for. The scientists note that the chances of finding the matrix are likely, due to the magnetic fields or whatever the technobabble is, but that the fate of Lena Oxton is completely unknown.

“It’s none of your concern, Commander Morrison,” Director Petras tells him over the phone. “Research and development isn’t your jurisdiction.”

Jack grits his teeth. “I understand that, Director.”

“Great. I know I don’t need to remind you that the Slipstream project is highly classified. As such, our official stance is that there was no experimental flight program, no test flights, and no missing pilots. Understand?”

Jack stays silent as he thinks. He thinks about a twenty year-old young man laying in a hospital bed in a classified military hospital. He thinks about the way the injections made him feel like he was burning from the inside out. He thinks about seeing doctors wheeling covered bodies to the morgue, whispering about another failed subject. He thinks about being told to never speak of it again.

“Of course, Director,” Jack says, and the phone line goes dead.

He hasn’t forgotten the lifeless bodies in the beds next to him. He doubts he’ll forget Lena Oxton, either.

They recover Slipstream’s flight recorder two weeks after the crash, one week after the gag order is placed. In the audio recorded by the cockpit voice recorder, Lena Oxton speaks clearly and confidently, reporting all signals normal.

“Order received,” she says, her voice tinny. “Activating teleportation matrix in fifteen seconds.” And then, almost too quiet for the recorder to pick up, Oxton says, “This ought to be fun!”

A few moments pass before Oxton speaks up again and announces the activation of the teleportation matrix. Harsh static follows, and the recording ends.

Morrison isn’t sure if the hint of a scream before the static is real or just his guilty conscience.

Lena Oxton was never a part of Overwatch, officially, so Jack Morrison has no flags to place over caskets and no next of kin to inform - not that Oxton had any, he remembers grimly.

There were no flags or ceremony for Soldier: 75, the teenager in the bed next to him who cried out in the night, whose bed was empty when Soldier: 76 woke up in the morning. Jack hadn’t even known his name. He hadn’t even thought of him for decades.

That night, when he sleeps, he dreams of the soldier enhancement program for the first time in years. In his dreams, Lena Oxton is wheeled out of Jack’s room, her still body covered by a white sheet. The doctors tell him not to think about it, tell him that the bed next to him was always empty. The doctors tell him to forget.

Ana brings it up first, when they’re sitting alone in his office. Jack has his hands folded and pressed against his face. Someone who didn’t know him would assume he was praying.

“We failed her,” Ana says. Jack doesn’t look up. “What are you going to do about it, Jack?”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Jack replies without looking up. “She accepted the position. She knew the risks. This is what happens in war.”

“I know that. It doesn’t make it any less wrong,” Ana retorts. She’s been a soldier longer than he has. There’s another long pause.

“After I had Fareeha, I fought so she wouldn’t have to,” Ana says. “I thought that she could grow up in a time of peace. I hoped that she would become something - anything besides a soldier. I failed her too.”

“Fareeha made her own decision. She knew the risks. This is what happens in war, Ana -” Jack repeats, but Ana cuts him off.

“What war, Jack? What war are we fighting?” Ana stands and moves to leave. “The Crisis is over. You and I and Gabe each have the medals to prove it. So why are our kids soldiers?” She hesitates by the door. “We failed them, Jack.”

The door slides shut behind her.

Lena Oxton doesn’t let any of them forget her.

The Slipstream’s teleportation matrix is found after months of searching, with some reclusive new signals expert named Winston apparently being the one to pinpoint its location. Within a week of its return, the scientists note chronal anomalies surrounding it and place it in an asymptotically timelike chamber in the Swiss base specially designed during the beginning of the Slipstream experiments.

Jack takes a moment to scrub at his eyes, squints at the page, and skims over the next few dozen lines of equations. He respects the scientists, but he wishes he knew how to ask them to dumb their reports down without coming across as dismissive. He flips the page and begins to skim over the paragraphs when he reads:

Upon reactivation of the chamber, the pilot previously assumed killed in action, Lena Oxton - callsign Tracer - reappeared, though she exhibited many anomalies that could not completely be contained by the chamber.

Five more pages of analysis follow. The report concludes by stating that Dr. Ziegler and the scientist from earlier, Winston, have been assigned to her case.

Jack goes back and rereads the paragraph. He rereads it again.

“Athena, where is the, ah, asymptomatic timelike chamber?” He asks out loud.

“The asymptotic time chamber is located on level 2B, wing E,” Athena replies.

Jack sprints the entire way there.

---

They make her speak at his funeral in Arlington.

He’s watching from a distance, hacked into some security livestream via drone, less than a mile from the actual thing. All the old heroes of Overwatch, the ones alive, anyways, are gathering around his grave. The sun is shining brightly. He can see Reinhardt sweating in his old Overwatch formal dress. Jack Morrison’s glad it doesn’t rain for his funeral, because it would just be another nail in the empty coffin.

Lena’s been made to speak. It makes sense that they would - the funeral is popularized by the media, with Overwatch’s downfall and the scandals that led up to the explosion, why wouldn’t it be? He wonders where she’s going after the Petras Act, the heroic law that saves the world from any other superheroes trying to do good and fucking up the planet more than it already is, goes into effect. For now, she’s still the golden child, the posterboy of Overwatch, for better or for worse. He’s read his own slander. He can’t bring himself to read anyone else’s.

“He was an excellent commander.” A goddamn lie. He couldn’t run a military company for his life. Maybe he was charismatic enough on the field, enough of a solid figure in a rapidly shifting war-torn field, to be considered for Strike-Commander, but it blew up in his face. He touches the lesions that are just starting to heal, ugly stripes breaking his facial features. Blew up in his face, alright.

Lena’s never sounded ungenuine in her life. She quips advice sometimes, to whoever she feels needs it at the moment, never sounding haughty or out of line. Even now, when she’s spouting lies that he’s sorry she believes, she has the conviction of someone announcing the sky is blue and the grass is green. “He was a mentor to me, personally, after the Slipstream Incident. I could have gone back to civilian life, but he inspired me. I wanted to make the world a better place. Jack Morrison helped me learn how it could be done.”

He tunes out. Stays on the drone’s line for hours, waiting for anyone to say anything about Gabe. He’s not sure why he cares so much. Morbid curiosity? Looking for revenge? Nothing interesting turns up until it’s late into the night, and the motion-activated camera has been off for hours. Its night vision spins on quickly, and Jack sits up, studying the footage.

There’s a small figure standing in front of his gravestone, a baggy hoodie barely concealing the light of a chronal accelerator. Lena’s changed out of her formalwear and is back in front of Jack’s grave, obviously trying to stay hidden. The drone picks up every word she says, and though he can’t see her face, the tears are obvious in her voice.

“I hate you,” Lena says, voice shaky as she lowers herself to sit on the ground. “...I don’t mean that. I hate...I don’t know what I hate. But I hate this situation, and I hate Director Petras, and,” her voice cracks, but she continues, “I hate that you’re gone.” Silence for a few more moments as she picks at the grass around his grave, then picks up the flowers someone had left there and inspects them. “You would’ve hated these,” she says. “This is an annual. One year and it’s gone.” She picks at the petals absentmindedly, voice still thick. “Y’know, I’m coming up on my first year as an active field agent. Streamlined me so fast, people seem to think I’ve been here for years. I think being new is the only thing that’s keeping me from being demonized in the news, like you.” Jack shakes his head. He deserves what they’re saying about him, and more. But he can’t tell Lena that. She drops the flower and stares ahead at the gravestone, not saying anymore for a few more minutes, just crying quietly to herself. Sometimes she starts to say something, but breaks off. It’s not until a car pulls up to the road nearby, and Angela comes out, pausing by the car door as Lena whips around to look at her.

“Listen, C’mander…” Lena begins again, standing up and tugging the hoodie firmer around herself. “I told you about my shit family and all, but, ah.” Jack watches Angela walking closer, his own throat growing tight at the words coming out of Lena’s mouth. He doesn’t want to hear them. Doesn’t want to disappoint anyone else.

She says them anyways. “In the end, I had a pretty good one. I don’t think tossing pulse bombs at me to teach me not to drop them counts as catch in the park, but what the hell would I know?” Lena shifts where she stands, digging a heel into the dirt. “For what it’s worth...I would have liked to call you dad.” The last bit comes out almost silent, almost too quiet for the drone to capture and almost too quiet for anyone but a supersoldier to hear. Angela comes up to Lena and wraps her in a hug, and Lena loses it again, crying into her shoulder.

“Oh, liebling,” she says, guiding Lena away from the gravestone after pausing for a moment at it. “Come back to the hotel room. Winston’s worried sick about you.”

Jack shuts off his connection to the drone, heading out of Arlington through the shadows.

It takes him months to locate Lena, find where she’s settling into civilian life. With the networking today, it hardly takes any time at all to pick out some perennials and have them sent to her apartment. The hardest part, he thinks, as he clicks the anonymous option, was not having them sent with the message, ‘to my daughter.’

#overwatch #soldier 76 #tracer

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momochimchim · 11 months

Text

Can't sleep... Thinking abt FNaF while listening to music, Good aanimatics in my Mind...

Writing thingies (Will probably edit this as I listen more)

Chop Suey -system of a down /Mike Afton (Young) hell yeah

Cuarteto de Nos - Habla tu espejo /Mike Afton, All his life I think

Cuartetos de Nos - como pasa el tiempo /Mike Afton (after the traumas) and Henry Emily

Crime and Punishment - Hatsune Miku / Evan Afton/CC and Fredbear Plushie/Cassidy (shh my theory), some parts dedicated to Mike

The avalanches - frontier psychiatrist / EVAN FR FR SDJDKLSDNALDMFK well all of them but y'know

Current Joys - New Flesh (just the Time when It says "no one gives a shit abt my life, till I die") /Evan Afton/CC 😔

Romantic Homicide - D4vd /Evan Afton or Mike, even William it has so many meanings...

Dumb Dumb - Mazie /The Missing Children, Charlotte Emily :(

Cuarteto de Nos - Así soy yo / Shadow Bonnie lmao

Cuarteto de Nos - Invisible / Cassidy, Charlie, The Missing Children?? Idk, some thingies...

Cuarteto de Nos - Nombres / 😭 I Love this song, idk who but MNHNHN CRYING 😭😭😭😭😭😭 MIKE AFTER THE TRAUMAS??? IT FITS WELL ACTUALLY, LISTEN TO THESE SONGS THEY ARE SO GOOD

Cuarteto de Nos - No llora / HENRY TO CHARLIE IF SHE WERE STILL ALIVE NOOOOO GOODBYE I'M SAD

Ena remix - Allergic to People / Missing Children with their mixed memories after dead :(((

Cuarteto de Nos - Insaciable / >:( William Afton, this bitch

Cuarteto de Nos - Ya no sé que hacer conmigo / Mike Schmitt (after the traumas)

Jack Stauber - Choice / Mike Afton / the Children, like, When he's working really hard to free them sjdjfkgn hard to explain

Jack Stauber - Dinner is not over / Afton Family

Jack Stauber - Oh Klahoma / Mike while Evan is in comma, and after Evan's death :((

Labrinth ft Zendaya - All for us / Charlie

Lorde - Buzzcut season / SECURITY BREACH 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I think? Well it works in most fnaf games, in my mind

Maná - Labios compartidos / NONE OF THEM BUT IT'S SO FUNNY TO ME TO IMAGINE WILLIAM SERENATING SOMEONE (HENRY LMAOO) WITH THIS SONG, WITH THIS EXACT VOICE JDJAIDNAOMFLF NOT EVEN ROMANTIC, IMAGINE HE'S JUST MAD THAT HENRY IS BUSY AND IS NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO HIM SO HE DOES THIS SJSKAODKOALF

Iroha Sasaki ft Kagamine Rin - Meltdown / Cassidy or Charlie, one of the two

Messages of the Stars /Fnaf 2 gang lol

MSI - Dissapoint /Young Mike probably, his rebel teen era, before the disaster

MSI - Due / William, i think? Some things, that crazy old bastard, Nono wait- maybe not... Henry? IDK AAAAA

MSI - Evening wear / WILLIAM, before turning into Springtrap, when he was successful and an untouchable bitch

Lots of MSI songs fits Monty actually.... Yes.... 😈

MSI - Revenge / THE TOYS LMAO, They're all sassy

Misery Meat / Evan :( dead CC

Mother mother - Neighbour / Fredbear Plushie lmao

Mother mother - Pure Love / CB / Elizabeth Afton 😭

Mother mother - Worry / Charlie/Puppet

Muse - Dead Inside / Cassidy (?) maybe, i mean they're all dead but Cassidy... Killed her inner self, her innocence left, her humanity ?

Muse - Thought Contagion / Security Breach with the hacks and everything

My singing Monster band - Cold Island / Sister location guys :3

Pomme - Soleil soleil / Moony to Sunny 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖

Jun Towaga - Suki Suki Daisuki / Toy Chica

Michael Bublé - Sway / Freddy definetely 🥺 The android obviously, before posessed, he's charming 🥺

Syko - Brooklyn blood pop / ToyBon, Bad influence

System of a down - Toxicity (Cover by Violet, Halocene and Lauren) - Goldie, hell yeah the little guy is metal af

Taco - Puttin' on the Ritz / Freddy again, ah the pretty man, and Fredbear too

Takayan - It's okay to envy / Monty yeee, And Roxy too probably 🤔

Miranda - Traición / JAKDNSK GLAMROCK CHICA BC IT'S CATCHY AND SHE LIKES THAT TYPE OF SONGS

Punishment Game - Hatsune Miku ft Gumi (i think) / Cassidy (Goldie) vs William (before and after the springtrap thing)

Mafumafu ft Kagamine Rin & Len - Dystopia / Charlie & Cassidy

Meiyo - Nothing's working out / Evan

Billie Eilish - When the party's over / Mike trying to cope over Evan's death :( Like allucinating and everything, remembering, regretting... Just in depression 😭 Ooooo I'm sad thinking abt it

Billie Eilish - Birthday favors / y'know, the "I'm Sorry to do this on your birthday, happy Birthday btw", Mike to Evan

Tom Rosenthal - Home / All the children😭😭😭😭

#sobbing #boony's rambles #songs #fnaf #thingies

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teakookssi · 1 year

Text

Before I Leave You [Eren/Levi x Reader FF]

[ curated playlist ][ full story can be found here or here ]

➺ pairing: levi ackerman/eren jeager x fem!reader

➺ status: continuous

➺content: mafia au, crime, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, angst, lol so much angst

➺warnings: SHIT. IS. DARK. YO. violence, blood, strong language, guns/weapons, and illegal activities are all mentioned but hey, that’s attack on titan for you, so if you can handle that, you can handle this (:

Prologue:

The heels of your dark boots grind against the dirt road as you strut your way across town. Thick fog clings in the air and the smoke of factories burning coal paints the sky an ashy grey.

Your armed cadre follow close behind, sporting guns and knives like a second skin. They are your most trusted guards, your closest confidants, and four of the seven members belonging to your inner circle.

Mikasa Ackerman, a tall female with short dark hair, killer instinct, and sharp eyes, flanks your left side. Jean Kirstein, a strong, willful young man with warm brown eyes flanks your right. Holding the rear is Connie Springer, a young man with a slim build and signature buzzcut. At his side is Sasha Braus, a fiercely driven female with big, brown eyes and long chestnut hair tied in a high ponytail.

You don’t usually walk around town baring such tight security. There’s hardly any need. Your father is Thomas Ymir. Crime boss of the Founding Sector. He owns this town. No one in their right mind would dare touch you—his only daughter and heir— unless they’ve got a death wish they want granted.

But today is different.

Today you’re carrying out a business deal. And your cadre deserve a place at that proceeding. It’s the least you can do for them, given the regrettable circumstances.

As you cross through the heart of town, the townsfolk bow their heads to you a safe distance away. Out of respect or fear, it’s all the same to you. You pay them no heed. Yet you don’t miss the way their wary eyes slide over to your cadre behind you, knowing that if they’re with you, trouble is close at hand.

Down the road, coppers patrol the streets in their forest green uniforms. They too notice your cadre at your heels, but they remain unfazed.

They greet you with a tip of their hat. “Miss Anya.”

You walk past them without sparing them so much as a second glance. They’ve learned not to expect a response from you and do well not to linger, promptly taking note of your destination and carrying on in the opposite direction to resume their daily rounds—knowing when they’re not needed and when to look the other way.

You detest the whole lot of them, but these coppers are under your father’s payroll, and it’s the only reason you tolerate their presence. Yet despite their loyalty to your father, they are not to be trusted. They still carry a police badge on their uniform and are therefore obligated to answer to Erwin Smith, the commanding officer of the Paradis Police Force. And that bloody bastard has been after your father for years. He will do anything to bring your father down, even if it means risking the lives of his own men to plant his spies into Ymir territory.

Reaching the outskirts of town a few minutes later, you approach one of the old warehouses owned by your father’s company, Ymir & Co., that stores some of his rather not-so-privy merchandise.

A handful of his men stand guard at the entrance. They nod to you in greeting as you make your way towards them and move aside to let you pass.

Inside, Historia Reiss and Armin Arlert—your blond hair, blue-eyed duo, and two of the last members of your inner circle—are waiting for you in the center of the rusty, dim lit building with the man you’ve come to strike a deal with. He sits on a crate with his hands tied behind his back and a bag over his face. So perhaps hostage is the more accurate term for him.

Nevertheless, this remains a business deal all the same.

“Historia. Armin. Thank you for keeping our guest company.” Your voice is warm and inviting as it cuts through the tension in the room, but there is an undertone of malice present and the dark glint in your eyes promise violence. “I trust you’ve shown him just how hospitable we can be?”

Historia nods and hands you a manila folder from a black suitcase she’s kept at her side, while Armin removes the bag and reveals to you the battered face of the bastard who dared defy your father: Bertholdt Hoover. Crime boss of the Colossal Sector, and the man responsible for the death of one of your men, Marco Bodt.

Your composed demeanor does not change at the sight of him, but you sense your cadre’s knowing gaze on you, watching you with heed. Only they can see how much your eyes are burning with rage, unable to stand the fact that this traitorous bastard was still breathing when Marco was not.

As they all fan out behind you to surround Bertholdt, you notice Jean’s tense posture beside you, struggling to restrain himself.

Marco was an important asset to your inner circle. His loss was felt strongly amongst everyone. But Jean had always held a special bond with him, and if you were to glance over at him now, you would see the frustration and pain twisted on his face at his inability to avenge his fallen comrade despite having the man responsible for his friend’s death sitting right before him.

For that reason you refuse to look in his direction. Your eyes remain focused on Bertholdt, who stares back up at you with vacant brown eyes as he awaits your verdict, a look of resignation already sprawled across his bloody face.

He knows what your arrival means for him, but he has yet to realize that you are far from finished with him.

You let the manila folder Historia handed you fall carelessly out of your hand in front of him, causing the papers inside to scatter on the floor at his feet. Bertholdt stares down at them with a blank expression.

“I’ve had our lawyer draw up these papers,” you inform the traitor in that dangerously calm tone of yours, masking the burning rage boiling inside you with ease. “Every enterprise in your possession— bars, restaurants, warehouses, establishments you own—you will sign over to my family.” Blood drips from a nasty cut on his forehead and you reach out to wipe it away, letting his blood stain your fingers red. “Or you’re gonna die right here.”

Bertholdt turns his face away from you, refusing to be touched by your hands, but this only encourages you further. You cock your head to the side, curious to see how much more humiliation he’s willing to take under your control before he finally gives.

Or before you lose interest—whichever comes first.

“I would have buried you ten feet underground,” you admit with chilly nonchalance. “You and your whole bloody clan—if my father had not stopped me.” Your eyes get drawn to his ruffled dark hair and you begin fixing it to a more reputable fashion with your blood stained fingers, like a mother tending to her unkempt child. “He says it will be worse for you if I let you live. If we take everything you have.”

You can see him clench his teeth as he swallows down the threat, but Berthold refuses to play along with you.

You give him an annoyed frown. “You are beginning to lose my interest,” you warn him sharply as you slip out a dagger from your sleeve, revealing a small glimpse of the centipede—the symbol of house Ymir—tattooed on your wrist. “And that is a very dangerous thing.”

In one swift movement you circle behind him and cut his hands free from the rope tying his hands together behind his back. He winces as his shoulders involuntarily come forward, feeling the release in tension from his muscles after being held in the same position for so long.

You reach into your coat and offer him a pen.

“Sign.”

You then let it drop on the floor in front of him.

“On your knees.”

Bertholdt glances down at the papers at his feet with clenched teeth. When he glares up at you, you’re surprised to find some fight still left in him. Mikasa notices too. His hands ball into fists, as if getting ready to strike, but the second he looks to your cadre, you pull your gun on him and shoot his left knee.

Your voice is cold and low, the playfulness in your eyes gone. “I said,‘kneel’.”

He lets out a scream and unwillingly falls to the floor, a puddle of blood quickly beginning to form near his leg and trickle down to the documents on the floor.

You point your gun to his other leg and pull down the lever, ready to pull the trigger. “Sign before I take away your ability to walk forever,” you hiss at him viciously.

He whimpers and shakes his head for you not to shoot, eagerly reaching for the pen with trembling fingers.

“Treacherous piece of filth,” you mutter with disdain as you watch him struggle to sign every last document amidst labored breaths.

Historia collects them once he’s finished and double checks everything is in order before handing the blood-covered papers over for Armin to sign—House Ymir’s new chosen crime boss of Bertholdt’s territory and his now officially legal replacement.

“The Colossal Sector is now under our jurisdiction,” you announce to everyone in the room as you stand watching over Bertholdt’s withering body with a bored expression on your face, a hand casually tucked in the pocket of your trousers. “By order of house Ymir.”

Your other hand twirls your gun on your finger absentmindedly as Jean and Connie roughly yank Bertholdt to his feet, positioning him directly in front of you. He cries out in pain as he’s forced to stand on his leg. You lift his chin up with the tip of your gun to force him to meet your piercing gaze.

You lean in close and your lip curls in disgust. He reeks of sweat and blood. ”You should have known better than to risk betraying this house.” You press your gun deeper into his face, pushing his head back. “To touch any of my men.”

You step back to let Jean and Connie drag him away.

“Go run to Reiner and Annie,” you tease behind him, taking a quick glimpse down at his injured knee and knowing full well he won’t be doing that—let alone, much walking—anytime soon. “Tell them what’s happened here, and tell them, if they don’t adhere to the deal they made with my father, we’re coming for them next.”

You raise your gun to point to the back of his head as Jean and Connie lead him out the door.

Mikasa tenses beside you and takes a step towards you, as if to stop you.

“Anya,” Armin warns behind you. The fact you’re so unpredictable has both of them believing your need for vengeance would let you disregard your father’s orders. But they needn’t worry. You may be a wild and vicious thing, but despite your crooked ways, you have principle.

And family and loyalty are the two things you honor and value most above all else.

Your father needs Bertholdt alive to send a message to the rest of his enemies. To remind them of what will happen if they attempt to double cross him. In your anger for Marco’s death, you’d argued his death served message enough, but your father was a businessman, and things needed to be done accordingly.

“If I let you kill him,” he had said to you, “a cycle of vengeance will follow and we will have gained nothing. You must practice patience and learn when to let go of your pride. By taking everything Bertholdt’s father spent years to built and forcing him to walk back to his men, alive and well… to make him have to tell them himself that he willingly signed it all away, and that they no longer have any right to any business in that territory—his pride will be more than wounded. The shame and disappointment he will have brought to his family name—” You father had given you a knowing look. “Well, I’m sure you can imagine how deep that wound will lie…what that will do to him mentally.”

He had pulled you in to a tender embrace when he saw the face you’d made at the thought of it, and began to caress your hair in comfort as you rested your head against his chest. “You can torture him. Prolong his death for as long as you want before you decide to finish him off. But you will only be doing him a kindness. In death, you spare him from pain, from grief, from feeling anything at all and—”

Realization began to dawn in your eyes as you met his gaze. “Mercy is only given to those who deserve it.”

He smiled down at you, pleased to hear you recite one of his mantras. “We are but reasonable people, after all. If the Colossal Sector has wronged us, it is only fair we return the favor.”

So you stand in the warehouse watching Bertholdt walk away with his life, knowing that he is merely a puppet in this great game of power and crime. There are more hands at play pulling the strings. But no matter who the enemy is or how many, they will all suffer the same fate.

Unlike them, you have learned the rules of the game. You know how this goes.

You will stand by your father’s side and watch as every last one of your enemies meet their own ruin—a downfall you will have carefully orchestrated. And in their misery, they will think only of you. Of the one who put them there.

“This is how you destroy them,” your father had said. “How you make them regret having ever wronged you.”

“Yes…” you’d agreed out loud, his words still echoing in your head long after he left. And you were coming for them all.

With your gun still raised in position, you close your left eye, as if to take a more accurate shot at Bertholdt from your distance. You imagine pulling the trigger.

“Bang.”

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drasin · 1 year

Note

Hey! I'm incredibly late but I wanted to thank you for being the *only* one to make ferrcob fanart. your style is simply wonderful, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't what pushed me to finally buy the callisto protocol <3

Glad you like it! And I mean yeah! These two deserve a lot more love! Shame there isn't more arts, so I'll add another one today 😌

Have fun with the game! <3

#thanks anon!#captain ferris #ferris x jacob #the callisto protocol #fanart #ferrcob #leon ferris #jacob lee #my two buzzcut bastards #<3

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keanureevesisbae · 1 year

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Ik heb in 2022 3.377 keer iets geplaatst

571 berichten gemaakt (17%)

2.806 berichten gereblogd (83%)

Blogs die ik het meest heb gereblogd:

@diegos-butt

@samwilsonshandsandass

@shootforthestars-28

@keanureevesisbae

@thelastsock

Ik heb 1.322 van mijn berichten getagd in 2022

#comment reblog - 465 berichten

#asian ofc - 96 berichten

#henry cavill - 90 berichten

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#henry cavill fanfic - 73 berichten

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#sweet messages 💌 - 59 berichten

Longest Tag: 116 characters

#the fact that the tiniest amount of gluten makes me sick for at least a week and takes another week to fully recover

Mijn populairste berichten in 2022:

Summary: You got yourself a puppy, however when you lose the little bastard, you meet a very handsome dog owner

Captain Syverson x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: None

A/N: did this idea pop in my mind after I played Best Friend Forever on the nintendo switch? Maybe...

It was safe to say, you knew nothing about puppies. You thought they were cute—which they are—and they need to go on walks and poop an awful lot. However, there is one thing you did not realize and that is how freaking fast they are.

When you picked up the little Bernese Mountain pup at the pound, he seemed a little comatose, however with the lightning speed this bastard took off, he appeared to have an overdose of energy after all.

You thought he was simply depressed at the pound.

And here you are, in the park, looking around you, hoping to see a little light brown ball of fluff. You defeatedly sigh, tears burning in your eyes. You just lost your fucking dog, it’s unbelievable and pretty damn pathetic. A sniffle escapes passed your lips. Great, you were officially the worst dog owner on the entire planet. Who the fuck loses their dog? Their pup? You literally had him for around two weeks.

‘Bob!’ you yell. ‘Bob, buddy! I’ve got snacks. C’mere boy.’

But it doesn’t help. The little bastard doesn’t appear.

Defeatedly, you plop on a park bench, tears dripping over your hot cheeks. You don’t know how long you cry on that bench.

And then you hear a bark and you look up, only to spot your puppy almost tripping over his own paws, next to a German Shepherd. You jump up. ‘Bob!’ you scream, as you rush over to him, wrapping your arms around the excited canine whose disappearance almost meant your death. ‘Don’t you dare leave me again.’

You turn to the German Shepherd and smile at the animal, who pushes her nose against your cheek.

‘Thank you for bringing back my dog,’ you say, patting her head, after you put your own dog back on his leash. ‘Where’s your human?’

’Ah,’ I hear from a distance, ‘Aika, you brought the little man back?’

The German Shepherd—who apparently is named Aika— rushes back to her owner and barks as a response. When the handsome man stands closer to you, you nearly gawk at him. He’s gorgeous, with the thick beard and the buzzcut, as he is wearing cargo shorts and a simply dark green shirt.

‘Thank you,’ you say.

‘Quite unbelievable you lost a pup.’

Okay, that hurt a lot more than you initially thought it would. ‘Please, throw some more salt in the wounds,’ you mutter. ‘I feel bad enough already.’ You don’t want to cry, but you can’t stop your umpteenth sniffle of the afternoon.

‘Oh no, I was just being sarcastic,’ the man quickly says. ‘Please, miss, don’t cry.’

‘I thought I’d lost him forever,’ you admit, wiping away your tears. ‘Thank you so much for catching him.’

‘No problem.’ His accent is thick, southern and it does things to your heart, especially when you see his light colored eyes, that despite their icy color, still appear warm. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Bob,’ you sniffle.

‘Is this your first puppy?’

You nod. ‘Yeah, it is. I try my best, but it’s obviously not paying off.’

The man chuckles. ‘Well, you must start to discipline him,’ he says. ‘Otherwise he’ll be the one in charge, sooner rather than later. This is gonna be a large dog in the future, you must be able to handle him.’

‘I know,’ you whisper, scratching Bob behind his ears. ‘It’s just… There are no puppy schools around and I am a total noob.’

He nods. ‘Want me to help you out?’

‘Really?’

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470 notities - Geplaatst 18 april 2022

Captain Syverson x fem!reader

Summary: You and Syverson already have five rowdy boys, but Sy really wants another one..

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: Some sex, slight breeding and pregnancy kink.

Sy had been thinking about adding one more kid to the Syverson bunch. He was the proud father of five rowdy boys, and said boys were a perfect mix however of the two of you.

As you were preparing dinner, Sy helped you out and the two of you looked through the window, so you could keep an eye on the five boys.

‘Babe,’ he said, ‘can I ask you a question?’

‘Always,’ you said.

‘What would you say if we had another kid?’

It stayed silent from your side. He tried to read you, but he couldn’t get a definite answer. Were you opposed to the idea? Were you on board?

He got nada.

‘Why?’ you asked him.

‘One more kid would make our family complete, don’t you think?’

‘A family of six kids?’ You let out a laugh. ‘That’s truly what you want?’

‘I’d love it, babe. You are so great with the boys and we always discussed we wanted a large family.’

You walked up to him, grabbing his face and gave him a kiss on his lips. ‘Well, if you can figure out a way to get the kids out of the house—in a responsible matter, mister Syverson—we’ll see what’s possible.’

˚ · • . ° .

He got the kids out of the house—responsibly—and after he took them to his momma’s place, he was quick to go back to your residence. It was a beautiful house, a place he had build when you were engaged. Back then, you were still stuck in a little apartment, but he and his builder friends put in a lot of effort to build your dream house.

And that dream house had a lot of bedrooms.

The two of you always wanted a big family. Just like you, Sy came from a family of one. Being only child had made the desire for a house filled with kids a lot bigger for you.

First you had your oldest Alexander, who is now eight years old. Second came twin boys Channing and Brady, who were now six years old. Then came number four Logan, who is four years old. And lastly, there was number five: baby Noah, who just turned two. They were all the sweetest boys, protective of their mother, desperate to become like their father, with their own special personality traits.

Witnessing you be their mother, made Sy fall in love with you even more. Every time you got pregnant, he saw the changes of your body, he took care of you and watched you be a loving and doting mother to the five boys. Mischievous, sure, but they listened well to you.

Better than they did to Sy from time to time.

He closed the door behind him and found you in the living room, a sweet smile painted on your lips. ‘What’s up?’ you asked.

‘You really want us make a baby on the couch or you’d like to be comfortable on the bed?’

‘We would see what was possible, Sy,’ you laughed. ‘Which isn’t necessarily making a baby.’

He groaned.

You made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. ‘You want another baby?’

‘I’d love to.’

You chuckled. ‘Well, I’d love another one.’

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532 notities - Geplaatst 14 juli 2022

Rich certified daddy in his late 40s early 50s!Henry Cavill x College student!fem reader

Summary: After the party was over on the yacht, Henry and you are about to have some more fun.

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: unprotected sex, orgasms,

A/N: Once again: the coverpage might be consisting of skinny white girls, but this is the aesthetic I was going for. no worries: the reader is neutral when it comes to physical appearance. Also, I caved and wrote a part 2 (and a part 3 lol). Just a side note: going on a yacht with someone you barely know, at night as he sails it further off shore, isn't a very smart thing to do and I do not recommend doing it in real life. But for fictional sake: enjoy hehe

The lavish boat party had officially ended, however it only meant it was about to start for the two of you. Your friends had given you a thumbs up after they got on their jetski’s again, soaring off back to where they came from. The rest of the rich assemble left as well and Henry sailed the yacht to a secluded space.

You stuck to him like velcro, unable to pull yourself away from the man. He was attractive, his aura was pleasant and in no way were you able to be further apart from him. He didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary even. You got to be at the helm, as he stood behind you, pressing kisses on top of your head, his hands wrapped around yours.

The sunset was amazing, the sky turned in a beautiful orange and pink color. You sat on the couch that covered the entire foredeck, as you stared over the slightly glimmering waters caused by the sun. Henry came down next to you, pushing some of your hairs from your face. ‘Do you like it?’ he asked you.

‘I love it,’ you admitted. ‘I wish I could stay here forever.’

‘Why can’t you?’

You rolled your eyes as you laughed. ‘Not everybody is filthy rich, Henry. I have school. It took me years before I finally had enough money to go here.’

Henry nodded. ‘Well, I can take you places,’ he said.

‘You barely know me,’ you whispered in a low tone.

‘I can get to know you,’ he said, pushing himself up. ‘Do you want us to get to know one another?’

Did the man who presumably looked like a millionaire want to get to know you? You nodded. ‘I would like that.’

It started off sweet. He pressed a short kiss on your lips, but you didn’t want to let go. Your hand was quickly placed on the back of his neck, pulling him closer for more. A deeper kiss. More intense.

He parted his lips and your tongue evaded his mouth, all while he grabbed your leg, pulling you on his lap. You straddled his thick thighs, your fingers fumbling with the last few buttons of his shirt. You pushed the shirt over his shoulders, before he threw it on the floor.

Your kisses became hungrier and you couldn’t stop your hips from grinding against his groin, earning you some grunts from his side.

’Take off your clothes,’ he said. ‘Now.’

You stepped off his lap and though it felt kinda strange to shred yourself from your clothes as you were out in the open, you still took the risk. The waters were quiet, not a soul in sight, so you felt like you could do it. You dropped your bikini and the short to the floor. He licked his lips in anticipation and told you to lay on the soft couch. As you sat down and scooted back, he quickly undressed himself.

You would probably never get enough of a naked Henry.

Having sex outside is something you had never done. Something you thought you’d never do. However, nothing had been normal about this entire day.

With Henry naked in between your legs, it appeared his hands were everywhere on your body, just like his soft lips were pressing kisses on every inch of skin of yours.

It didn’t appear he could get enough of you either, managing to push you over the edge time after time, using his mouth and his fingers, before he finally slid his hard cock in between your tight walls.

Your eyes slightly hooded, as you were drowning in with pleasure, all because of the magic that is Henry.

He placed his hand gently over your mouth, a clear indication that—no matter how vacant it was—you were way too loud.

‘Quiet now, baby,’ he whispered, ‘think they can almost hear you back at your hotel.’

You nodded, but you couldn’t stop your moans. Not anymore. He plunged his thick length deep inside of you and you were a whining mess, squirming underneath his frame.

He pulled his hand from your mouth, before kissing you roughly. You ran your fingers through his locks, when you were bucking up your hips to meet his thrusts.

Your walls were tightly clenching around him, right before you came and squirted all over the large couch like mattress.

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572 notities - Geplaatst 3 mei 2022

Rich certified daddy in his late 40s early 50s!Henry Cavill x College student!fem reader

Summary: You were on your spring break and one day, you and your friends end up on a yacht and... the man who owns said yacht, is quite something.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: fingering, eating out, sex, loud sex, doggy style, squirting, orgasms

A/N: I know the girls in the pictures are white, but these pictures had the sets I had in mind and i didn't want to make them black and white because that didn't fit the aesthetic. Please know that the reader in the rest of this drabble is totally neutral, as I didn't describe hair color, skin color, etc.

This was already the best time of your life. You were in your senior year of college and finally, you had found the time—and money—to be part of a real spring break. It was filled with booze, with dancing and all while wearing different types of bikini’s, matching it with cute flip-flops, shorts and skirts.

And now, you were sitting—totally illegal and in the wrong attire—on a jet ski with your friends, all soaring over the waters. You screamed in excitement. This was so much fun. You were far of shore, however closing in on a yacht. You slowed down your jet ski and looked up. It appeared to be a party on there. Your friends and the jet ski’s were making quite the tumultuous noise, causing the guests to look over the railing, down at you. They seemed fancy and a few guys were talking to someone else, clearly eager to get your friends on board.

They managed to succeed. Three guys helped the four of you with making sure the jet ski’s won’t drift away and after you left your dirty flip flops on the bottom of the stairs, you and your friends made your way to where the real party happened.

It wasn’t the booze fest you had been part of for the last few days. It was fancier in everything. The music, the drinks and the appetizers. You were almost afraid that what you wore screamed “tacky spring breaker”.

Your friends all gained the utmost attention of the three guys who had helped you all on the yacht. Their loafers were probably worth more than your monthly rent.

To say you were feeling slightly out of place was a gross understatement. You grabbed something to drink and plopped on a very fancy lounge like couch. You took a sip, when you heard someone clearing their throat next to you.

There was someone sitting next to you? You had totally missed that, as you were drowning in self pity. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said, looking to your side only to make eye contact with the most handsome man you had ever seen. In between his brown hairs, were streaks of grey. His bright eyes looked intense. He wore a white blouse, however it was totally unbuttoned, revealing a hairy and broad chest. His shorts appeared way too expensive and unlike the other male party goers, he was bare foot.

His face showed some signs of maturity and you thought he was in his forties, pushing the fifties, but it was still evident how gorgeous he was.

You were at a loss of words. He had some whiskey in a glass and brought it to his lips.

‘Was someone else sitting here?’ you asked.

He shook his head. ‘It’s all good, doll.’

You felt your face heating up at the sudden nickname. You took a sip of your drink and plucked your pink short, that matched your bikini.

‘Spring break?’ he then asked.

You chuckled. ‘What gave it away? The atrocious outfit or the stench of beer and booze?’

He smirked and he looked so handsome doing so. ‘You look too colorful.’

You nodded. ‘Is this your yacht?’

‘Correct.’

‘So you’re like really rich.’

‘Something like that,’ he said.

‘You’re kind of a cliché,’ you told him, which caused him to be interested. ‘Whiskey, a yacht, an unbuttoned blouse, handsome. The only thing that misses, is a cigar.’

‘I’ve got some downstairs,’ he chuckled. ‘I’m a walking cliché.’

‘How unoriginal.’

You discovered the handsome rich man was named Henry and he was a real looker. You hated how gorgeous he was, but what you loved about him, was that he was approachable.

You started to sit closer and closer to him, up to a moment where you were seated on his lap, your legs draped to his left side, his large hand resting on your thigh, toying with the bottom of your short. He brought the glass to your lips, allowing you to take a sip of his whiskey, but it was so strong and not at all what you loved.

Especially not after those nearly sickening sweet drinks you had all those days.

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729 notities - Geplaatst 22 april 2022

Mijn #1-bericht van 2022

Henry Cavill x fem!reader

Summary: During your job as a hotel maid, you walk in the hotel room, not ready for what you’re about the encounter: the hot actor Henry Cavill, who is masturbating

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: mentions of male masturbation and blowjobs and obviously male orgasms xx

You took this job, because you needed the money. There were only a few upsides to this job and fun wasn’t one of it. Time spend cleaning up, was mostly spend listening to music, as you did what you had to do: clean up.

With your AirPods plugged in your ears, you bring the card to the reader and the door unlocks for you. This was the final room for your shift and you wanted it to be over with real bad.

You made your way inside, closing the door behind you, your hands full of cleaning supplies. Your cart had given up on you at the beginning of the shift and because there was no spare, this ought to do it for now.

It was a quick clean up, no changing bed sheets so for that you forever grateful. You walk further into the room, before your eyes fall on something totally unexpected.

You let out a loud scream, when you realize and can finally comprehend what you had just seen: Henry Cavill—the actor Henry Cavill—naked on his bed, whilst masturbating. You stumble back, trip over the little trash bin, while he also lets out a scream, covering himself up, maintaining some of his modesty.

He is huge, you think to yourself. They weren’t lying when they called his precious package the kraken. Oh gosh.

‘I’m so sorry, mister Cavill,’ you say, desperate to find your AirPod after it fell on the floor. ‘I thought I had to clean the room. There was so sign on it to tell me otherwise.’

He has yet to say something else, however you can’t get the Superman sized manhood you just saw out of your mind. Finally you find your earphone, before you try to collect your cleaning supplies that has scattered all over the floor.

You had to look him in the eye eventually, right?

‘I apologize,’ he says, ‘for neglecting to put a sign on the door.’

You stand up and despite trying not to look, you couldn’t help but notice that bulge coming from underneath the blankets and as of right now, you have difficulties mainting a professional facade.

Besides: you are a wet and horny mess as we speak.

Moments go by where the two of you aren’t saying anything. The only thing you can hear, is his deep breaths and your own heartbeat. ‘I should go,’ you say, though you do not take a step. Your mind is wandering and you even find yourself thinking: This is how porn starts.

You’re not making it better for yourself.

And then something changes in his eyes. Shame turns into lust. Humiliation turns into desire.

Who is going to take the first step?

‘You need help?’

Apparently you’re taking the first step. You cannot believe that question just left your lips. You honestly asked The Henry Cavill if he needs help? Maybe you’ve watched too much porn, to think a question like that can just leave your lips without people being freaked out.

Before however you can say something alone the lines of never mind, I’ll just go and never come back, he says: ‘Sure.’

Okay, now you need to act like you’ve got this all under control. You’re good at blowjobs. You can give him that once in a lifetime blowjob. A core memory. Raise the bar for every bed partner that is to follow you. You place your AirPods on the desk and make your way over to him, dropping on your knees on the side of the bed, while he is sitting on the edge, feet planted next to you on both sides.

‘Just don’t tell anyone,’ he says.

You shake your head, eager to take him in your mouth. ‘It’s our little secret,’ you whisper, before wrapping your lips around his cock. He slides deeper in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. However, nothing fazes you. Much to his own surprise, you manage to take him all in, your nose hitting his pubes and he lets out the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You squeeze your legs together, desperate for some friction.

‘Good girl,’ Henry praises you and you physically were unable to stop the moan that escapes your lips. He hisses, taking a handful of your hair, slightly pulling you back, so forcing you to look at him. His eyes are slightly hooded, almost like he’s one step out of this world.

You feel your jaw aching, however you do not give up. You are going to give this man the greatest blowjob he has ever had.

His breathing become more erratic, as you use your hand to pump the rest of his shaft. Judging from the most beautiful and hot sounds he makes—you’ll dream about it tonight probably—he is close. He bucks his hips up against you, as his seed fills your mouth. However, it catches you slightly off guard and the huge amount spills passed the corners of your mouth, mixed with your drool from your chin to your chest. You swallow what is left in your mouth and when you want to catch a breath, Henry leans over, planting his lips firmly on yours, not caring that his own semen is smeared on your lips as well.

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743 notities - Geplaatst 26 april 2022

Bekijk je jaaroverzicht van 2022 →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #smut does best hehe

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