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python333 · 8 months

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scary dog privileges — python333

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synopsis ur super duper scary to almost all 141 soldiers, but to price soap ghost and gaz ur just the sweetest little thing ever :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], no usage of c/n [call sign chosen for this fic is 'Cerberus'!], might sound kind of rushed/shitty :{

note normally i try not to rush fics BUT i started this at like 12 pm and as im typing this out its 11 pm and ive only written 2285 words so im kind of rushing this so i can keep up my little posting daily thing!! this idea has also been rotting in my brain for a while, so i might make a hcs thing from it, idk, but for now its just this fic!! also, thank you everyone who gave reblogged my last fic, reblogs are the best sorta motivation for a reader and i absolutely appreciate all of them :> anyway this is all fluff + comfort no hurt and has some soft!ghost in it because hes my dad and i love him so enjoy!!

The Private in front of you may as well have been pissing his pants with how scared he looked. His commanding officer, and one of your closest friends, Soap, had reported him to you for ‘insubordination’. He’d said, verbatim, when telling you about him, “I’d deal with him myself, but I’m too tired to,” so now you had to deal with one of his subordinates.

You sighed through your nose as you looked down at the Private in front of you, the latter comically small compared to you, both physically and mentally.

“Well?” You ask expectantly, raising an eyebrow at him, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” The Private shakily nods and you can hear him gulp, “Right, yeah, so basically, it was earlier this morning and I was following orders and everything, doing what I was supposed to, then I accidentally interrupted Soap while he was giving me orders, which I didn’t mean to do, I swear, I just wasn’t thinking and it happened and I just— I didn’t mean to do it. And then later on, we were both—me and Soap—talking with a few other people who I guess were some higher ranked soldiers from different tactical operations and I accidentally interrupted some of them. It was—” “I’m sorry, hold on,” You put a finger up to silence him, to which he responds with immediate silence, letting you talk, “You don’t accidentally interrupt someone. Either you do it or you don’t. You don’t just slip up and interrupt your CO in the middle of him giving you orders. Secondly, always refer to Soap as ‘Captain MacTavish’, or ‘Captain’ if that’s somehow too hard for you, don’t act like you get to talk about him like you’re both all buddy-buddy and—” “Okay, but if you’d just let me finish—” The Private tries to interrupt you, making you draw your eyebrows together in confusion. “Excuse me?” You ask, mildly offended that he had the audacity to interrupt you, “Did you just interrupt me?” The Private stays silent for a moment, looking up at you, wide-eyed. His whole face looks even more stupid like this—like he doesn’t even know what he did.

“I asked you a question, Private,” You remind him, leaning down a bit, tilting your head to the side questioningly, “Did you just interrupt me?” “Right, yeah, I did, sorry about that—” He tries to apologize, “Didn’t mean to. Swear.” “Right,” You narrow your eyes at him, standing back up straight and crossing your arms, “Remember what I just said? About not accidentally interrupting people?” “Yeah, I do.” “Could you say ‘Yes, Lieutenant’ instead of that?” You ask, “This isn’t a casual conversation. This is one of your superiors telling you that you can’t blatantly disrespect your commanding officer, so act like it.” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant,” The Private stammers, which really shouldn’t make your lips twitch at the corners but it does, and you have to fight off a smile, pursing your lips instead.

“Like I was saying earlier,” You continue your words from earlier, “In conversations like these, when you’re not out doing an assignment, I don’t want to catch you referring to Captain MacTavish as just ‘Soap’ ever again. And you don’t want me to catch you doing that either, you understand?” “I understand, Lieutenant.” “Good, good,” You nod, before gesturing for the Private to keep giving you his side of the story, “Continue telling me what happened then.” “Right, so, after that, Captain MacTavish gave me some new orders, and I felt like I had a better idea of what to do than him because I’d thought of something that makes more sense than what he told me to do, so I told him as such, and he acted all shocked like I didn’t have a really good idea, and told me that I was to follow his orders not the ones I tried to give to myself so I told him that mine were better and—”

“Have you read the military regulations and codes of conduct? Ever?” You interrupt, making the Private shut up almost immediately and hesitantly nod his head affirmatively. “I really don’t believe you. Everything I’ve heard so far is a direct violation of it, I just—” You pause to give a small, humorless laugh, “You have me speechless here, really.” The Private watches nervously as you struggle to find the appropriate words to say, before you finally come up with, “Is there more that you need to tell me about?” “… Yeah,” The Private answers sheepishly, making you sigh through your nose and gesture for him to tell you the rest. He clears his throat before starting up again, “And then he said that he’s the commanding officer for a reason and that what he says goes so I said okay and did what he told me to do. Then after that whole thing, he told me to go to your office and tell you what I did.” Why do I have to do all his dirty work? “… Okay then,” You look up at the ceiling and try to think of what to do, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the Private, muttering, “Well, I appreciate that you didn’t go into my office without my permission, at least you know not to do that.” You clear your throat before speaking louder, “Let’s head into my office instead of just standing out here. This is probably violating some sort of code…” The Private nods and lets you unlock the door to your office that’s just a few steps away and walks in after you, being sure to close the door behind him. He automatically sits at the chair across from your desk and you sit down at your own chair behind your desk.

“Right, okay, let’s see…” You dig around the drawers of your desk, before letting out a small ‘ah-ha!’ and pulling a corrective action assignment form out of one of the small drawers of your desk and setting it onto the top of your desk. You grab a pen from the small cup by your desk and write down the date on the form in your usual neat handwriting.

You read a question on the form and look over at the Private, “Could you give me your full name, please?”

“John— John Williams,” The Private stammers again, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Your name is John-John Williams?”

“No, just John Williams, Lieutenant.” “M’kay,” You write down his name and fill out a few more things on the form before signing it off with your name and looking over at the Private once again, folding the paper in half as you do, “I’m gonna trust you to bring this to Soap, and tell him that it’s from me. You think you can do that?” “Yeah, of course,” John breathes out, grabbing the paper from you as you hand it to him. “Yes what?” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant.” “There we go,” You sigh and lean back in your chair, “Go on and pass that to him. And tell him to send anyone else who’s being insubordinate to Ghost or something, anyone but me.”

John simply nods and gets up, walking out your office door and making sure to close it behind him. You cap the pen you’d used and put it back in the cup where the rest of your writing utensils are, before yawning and leaning forward to rest your head on your desk when suddenly there’s a sharp knocking at your office door. You muffle a groan and wait a moment before calling out, “Come in!” You watch as your door slowly opens, making a creaking sound that hurts your ears a bit, and much to your annoyance, yet another Private is standing in your doorway, looking just as sheepish as the last. “Oh my f— you know what?” You stand up and take a deep breath to momentarily calm yourself, “Who sent you? Was it Soap?” “… Yes,” The Private answers, their voice shaky as they speak to you, the whole thing only making you more annoyed. “Where is he right now?” You ask, walking towards the door and opening it wider, towering over the much smaller Private in front of you.

“The— the training facility.” You blink at the Private and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. “Yeah, no sh— ugh, you know what? Thank you. Just—” You look up at the ceiling and tell yourself not to snap at this poor rookie, and look back down at them, “Just follow me. I have to go yell at him.”

“What?” The Private asks dumbly, their eyes widening a bit in surprise. You don’t bother to look over your shoulder and check that they’re following you, instead just walking out of your office, somehow hearing their footsteps even with the thundering stomping your boots made as you walked.

You eventually made it to one of the training facilities, the only one that currently had anyone in them, and opened the door louder than you meant to. You walked in, the shaking Private behind you as you walked up to Soap and took several deep breaths to calm yourself, ignoring the several rookies that stared at you as you walked over to him. You could hear small whispers forming amongst Soap’s small platoon of soldiers, but ignored them as well, simply walking up to Soap, who finally noticed you. He turned to you and gave you a knowing grin, like he knew exactly why you were here. “Hey, L.t—” “Why have I had two Privates coming into my office telling me you sent them because you couldn’t do your damn job?” You question him immediately, ignoring the small gasp from the Private behind you, “Do you know how many CAA forms I have left? Three. Three forms. Because you can’t deal with your own rookies. If I wanted to be dealing with them, I would’ve let Price make me a CO. You know what I said when he asked me to be one? Fuck no. I said it for a reason.”

“… Sae ye din’t want me tae report onyone else tae ye?” Soap asks, like the little shit he is, in a teasing tone. “Absolutely not.”

“Noted,” He nods, as if he understands, and gestures for the Private he’d sent to you to come back over to him, “I actually got yer message a minute ago from Williams. I think he almost shat himself.”

“I’m kinda happy about that, honestly,” You mutter, “Everything he told me was like… a direct violation of the code of conduct and was just so stupid.” “I ken!” Soap agrees, “I swear, naebody reads the code ‘o conduct ony mair.” “I asked him if he did, and he said yes, but I know he’s lying,” You roll your eyes before adding on, “And you know what? I’ve only had issues with British people ever since you and Gaz started reporting people to me. I think that they’re just the issue.”

“Jesus, I ken,” Soap mutters, “Fuckin’ Brits.” “Fuckin’ Brits.” You nod in agreement, before sighing and looking over at the rest of Soap’s platoon. You look back at him, “I also told Williams to actually refer to you as ‘Captain MacTavish’, so… there’s that.” “Guid, guid,” Soap nods, before clearing his throat and continuing,

“So did ye only come here tae yell at mae?”

“Yeah.” You admit, making Soap laugh lightly.

“And yer done now?”

“… I guess,” You mutter, making him chuckle and pat you on the shoulder.

“Guid,” He says, looking over at his group of soldiers he’s meant to be training, “I think yer scarin’ my soldiers more than mae.”

“How can you tell?” You ask sarcastically, following his gaze to the rookies that were trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping when they clearly were. “They don’t even know we’re talking right now.” Soap huffs out a small laugh, “Right, o’ course.”

“I’m gonna head back to my office and take a quick nap,” You let Soap know, “So don’t send me anymore people. They’re stinking up my office, it’s ridiculous.” Soap raises an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Why don’t you just go to your sleeping quarters?” “Don’t tell me what to do.” Soap raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, then.” You huff out a tired breath and say, “So if anyone asks where I am, just let them know that.” You don’t wait for a response before you walk away from Soap and immediately hear whispers starting up again, but you ignore them as you walk out the door, sort of used to them at this point. You didn’t know why you were so scary to some of the lower-ranked soldiers (and even some of the higher-ranked ones), considering you never intentionally did anything to scare them. Sure, you were taller than most of them, and maybe just a bit quicker to lose your temper with people, but it was never that bad.

You vividly remember Gaz and Soap when they both found out a majority of the soldiers that were apart of the 141 were afraid of you or at least intimidated by you, the two had said that they wanted you around more often, just hanging out with them, so that they wouldn’t get bothered as much by people for unnecessary things.

Scary dog privileges, you remember they’d said, laughing as they did. It’s actually where you’d gotten your call sign, Cerberus.

It’s not that you hated it at all, in fact, you didn’t mind being a little scary if it meant people were less likely to bother you, it’s just that it makes it a hell of a lot harder to actually talk to people without them starting to stammer or shake.

It was one of the reasons you turned down being a commanding officer—you didn’t really like the thought of commanding a platoon of soldiers that cowered in your presence. Plus, it was getting really annoying, not being able to talk to another soldier that wasn’t Price, Soap, Ghost or Gaz without them looking like all they wanted to do was leave the conversation.

You finally make it back to your office and let out a sigh of relief as you open the door and walk in, closing it behind you, not even bothering to lock it as you immediately walk over to the chair behind your desk and sit down in it.

You reach below your desk and pull out a nice, fluffy blanket and a fluffy pillow to go with it that you always kept in your office—just for times like this, when you felt like going to sleep in your office, for whatever reason.

Were you supposed to be napping at all? No. Would your superiors let you anyway because you’ve somehow managed to get emotionally adopted by both Price and Soap? Absolutely.

You move some of the papers cluttering your desk out of the way and set down your pillow, as well as wrapping yourself in the blanket, and sigh happily as you lay your head down onto the pillow.

Just as you’re getting comfy, you hear a knock at the door. No. You don’t get up to answer it. You just sit there, head on your pillow, nice and comfy. In fact, you refuse to answer the door, because you’ve opened it for two other people already, and God knows who you’re gonna snap at once you open that door.

Another knock—you ignore that one too, knowing full well you told Soap to tell anyone who was looking for you that you were in your office but also knowing that you never said you’d open the door, you just said you’d be there.

You bury your face into the pillow and scream into it, knowing the scream wouldn’t be too muffled with how loud it was, but doing it anyway. You then take a deep breath and call out, unenthusiastic and tired, “Come in!”

You watch the door open and see Ghost step in, and you’re silent as you watch him close the door behind him and walk over to you, his century old shitty laptop in hand as he sits down in the chair in front of your desk and sets down said laptop.

You pay no mind to it, deciding you’d rather take a nap, and set your head back down on the pillow, pretending that you can’t feel Ghost’s eyes on you. “… Are you okay?” He asks, sounding a little concerned as he looks at you bury your head into your pillow, before his concern turns into confusion as he asks, “When did you get a pillow in here— you have a blanket, too?”

“Mmph.” You don’t respond with actual words, even if you did they’d be muffled beyond relief by your pillow. You can’t see him but Ghost raises an eyebrow at you and his lips twitch into a small, amused smile.

“What, you’ve just had those in here?” Ghost asks, knowing he’ll get nothing more than a muffled hum from you.

“Mmph.” “Alright, then,” He mutters, “Keep your secrets.” “Mmph.” You feel too tired to bother responding with anything else. “I feel like you shouldn’t sleep in your office, considering you have your own sleeping quarters you can sleep in.” “… Mmph.” “That’s fair,” Ghost nods. You hear him opening his laptop and you hear it crack when it opens, the noise making you huff out a small laugh into your pillow. God, that thing is so old, it’s ridiculous.

“What’s so funny?” Ghost asks as he types in his password. You don’t say anything in response, which doesn’t shock him in the slightest. You feel yourself start to get closer to sleep, but can’t get quite there, instead sort of just hanging right on the edge of sleep.

You quietly grumble in frustration and shift a bit in your seat, not knowing what the issue is. Ghost notices this and raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t do anything about it just yet, instead getting back to his work. Why’d he have to go into your office to do his work? Who knows.

You shift again in your seat and Ghost knows that he’s not gonna be able to focus if you keep shifting—why wouldn’t he just go to his own office?—around, so he sighs and picks up his laptop and drags the chair in front of your desk with him around to behind your desk where you are.

You lift your head up to try and see what he’s doing, confused, and see him putting his chair right next to yours and setting his laptop down onto the desk.

Before you can ask anything, he gently puts a hand on the side of your head and guides it to rest on his shoulder, and—oh. This is much better, somehow.

He seems to know that it’s that much better, too, because his eyes crinkle a bit, giving away the fact that he’s smiling. However, he stays silent, and keeps his hand on the side of your head for a moment before letting it fall down to the side of your forearm, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

He opens up his laptop once again and types in his password with one hand, the typing going by significantly slower than it would’ve if he used both hands, but he decides against keeping his hand off of you, seeing as it assists in helping you go to sleep.

Are you supposed to be asleep right now? Definitely not. But like mentioned before, Price wouldn’t mind. And you’d probably laugh if Soap minded, because even if he’s a Captain, he’ll always act like a little shit. Ghost knows this too, and with this information, he figures that he might as well help you sleep, since he knows exactly how to help you sleep.

One too many nights spent pacing in your room, which eventually woke Ghost up, which led to him helping you sleep, so that he could sleep too, You sleepily remember, He always said he was annoyed by the pacing, and that’s the only reason he helped you sleep. But now, seeing what’s happening now, makes you question that a bit. Was it his annoyance, or something else? Or am I thinking too much about this?

Cutting off your train of thought is another knock at the door, and it’s not loud enough to completely snap you out of your drowsy haze but it’s enough to make you a little more aware, and for you to readjust your head your head so that your face is practically buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck. His thumb stops rubbing against your forearm, and he glares at the door like it was the door’s fault it got knocked on.

The knocking persists and neither of you say anything, just waiting on whoever it is on the other side to give up and go away, but whoever it is must be feeling pretty determined because even louder knocks sound at the door, making you and Ghost sigh in unison.

You both continue to stay silent, hoping that whoever was on the other side just goes away, but they don’t. You don’t hear any footsteps retreating, and the knocks keep coming.

“Hello?” You both hear Price’s voice on the other side, “Cerberus? You in there?” “Say no,” You mutter into Ghost’s neck. He nods and clears his throat.

“Nope!” Ghost calls out in response to Price’s question.

“… Ghost?” Price’s surprised voice comes through, “What are you doing in there?” “Say this is your office,” You murmur, making Ghost huff out a small, amused laugh and nod again.

“This is my office,” Ghost responds, “Why wouldn’t I be here?” “What? No,” Price’s voice becomes confused, “This is Cerberus’ office.” “No it’s not,” Ghost denies, lying straight through his teeth. You laugh quietly against his neck. “Uh… but it is?” Price argues, “It has their name on the front.” “No it doesn’t,” Ghost blatantly denies, continuing his thumb’s slow circle movements on your skin, the soothing action making you hum contently. You don’t know how, but somehow your humming is loud enough for Price to hear. Does he have his ear against the door or something?

“I can hear Cerberus in there,” Price argues again, “Don’t lie to me.” “Sorry, lamb,” Ghost apologizes to you softly, tone significantly more soft than it typically is, “I think he’s caught onto us.” “… I guess it’s fine for him to come in, then,” You mumble against his neck. He responds with a nod.

“Come in!” Ghost calls out, and almost immediately you hear the door open and Price’s loud footsteps walking in. You can’t see him, but he opens his mouth to say something, when his eyes catch on your face buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck.

He looks questioningly at Ghost, the latter simply blinking over at Price, daring him to comment on it.

He doesn’t, and instead closes the door behind him and walks up to the desk.

“Cerberus?” He asks. You hum offhandedly, and he takes that as a sign to continue, “You okay?” “Mhm.” “You know you can sleep in your own sleeping quarters, right?” “Mhm.” “And you’re choosing not to?”

“Mhm.” Price blinks at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and turning to Ghost, “And you’re here because?” “Felt like having some company,” Ghost answers simply, watching as Price glances at his thumb rubbing circles into your forearm, and continues to watch as his eyes slowly make their way up to the way your face is buried in the crook of his neck.

Price looks at Ghost, mouthing the words, ‘I’m telling everyone about this,’ to which Ghost mouths back, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Price grins at this and opens his mouth to say something else before there’s another knock at the door.

“Are you always this popular?” Ghost asks you, sounding both mildly annoyed and amused.

“Mhm.” You hum affirmatively.

Ghost sighs and he and Price call out in unison, “Come in!” The door opens and you temporarily readjust your head so that you’re just resting your head on Ghost’s shoulder with your face facing the door, and you watch as Gaz enters the room and his neutral face turns into one of both surprise and confusion.

“Were you lot having a party in here, or something?” He asks, closing the door behind him.

“Not originally,” Ghost deadpans, watching as Gaz walks over next to Price and leans against your desk, “What’re you here for?”

“Needed an extra corrective action form,” Gaz answers. Ghost looks down at you for permission to rummage through your desk drawers and you nod.

“Second drawer to the right,” You mumble, and Ghost opens that exact one up and pulls out a CAA form, handing it over to Gaz, who takes it with a ‘thank you’ and folds it in half, stuffing it into his back pocket.

He looks between you and Ghost questioningly, and opens his mouth to say something, before Ghost gives him the same look he did to Price, and Gaz immediately snaps his mouth shut.

“If you’re tired, Cerberus, you should go to your sleeping quarters,” Price comments, tone worried. You look over at him.

“What if someone needs me, though?” You ask, slowly blinking at him.

“Kid, I don’t think anyone would get any good help from you with the state you’re in right now,” Price says honestly, ignoring the small glare you send him. “Anyone who needs you can just refer to someone else.”

You hum neutrally and sigh before muttering, “Fine,” and tentatively take your head off of Ghost’s shoulder and unwrapping the blankets you’d wrapped around yourself earlier, bundling it into a little ball and putting it into the box under your desk, putting the pillow in there as well.

You crack your knuckles quickly and get up from your seat, quickly putting your hands on the edge of your desk to steady yourself, standing up on slightly shaky legs. “I can help you get over there,” Price offers, frowning a bit when you shake your head negatively. Ghost lets out a sigh and stands up, closing his laptop before quickly walking over to you and wrapping an arm loosely around your side, over your arm, pulling you closer to him and helping you stand up a bit straighter. Gaz observes all of this with a raised eyebrow but otherwise says nothing, instead watching with Price—who watched this with disbelief in his eyes—as Ghost walked with you to the door wordlessly, opening the door and walking out of it with you, not looking back as he closes the door behind him. “You think everyone’s gonna think Cerberus is all scary after they see them leaning on Ghost trying to get back to their sleeping quarters?” Gaz asks Price, staring at the closed door. “Somehow, yeah,” Price says after a moment, still caught up in his disbelief, “That is… the strangest thing I’ve seen all day.” “It’s only thirteen, Captain.” “I don’t think anything’s gonna top that.” “Top what?” Gaz asks, a little confused, “Seeing Ghost helping out Cerberus?” “Yeah.” Gaz huffs out a laugh and pats Price’s shoulder, “Jesus, man. I’m surprised that’s the first time you’ve seen that.” Gaz ignores Price’s confused look and walks towards the door, opening and closing it as he walks out, leaving Price dumbfounded in Cerberus’ office. “Huh?”

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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

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Pass the Time

Kinktober Day 15: Praise Kink

warnings: AFAB!reader, vaginal fingering, fwb(?), dirty talk, smei-public sex, 18+ minors dni, inspired by @hanasnx's han dirty talk thoughts

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You sit in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon with your feet kicked up on the control panel in front of you. Han and Chewie sit in the seats closest to the windshield in similar positions.

You're bored out of your goddamn mind. Traveling from Tatooine to Dantooine takes forever, even in hyperspace. You're crossing the whole galaxy to get to the rebel base, but right now on the ship, you have nothing to do but wait.

You groan loudly and Han tilts his head back to glare at you. His arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes are half lidded like he was on the brink of sleep before you disturbed him.

"What's wrong?" Han asks, clearly annoyed.

"I'm bored," you say with a groan.

Han rolls his eyes while he sits up and spins around his chair to face you. He is slouched in the seat, legs spread obnoxiously wide.

"You can play cards with Chewie," he suggests, looking over at his furry friend. Chewie grunts in response. "Shut up, they don't cheat."

You narrow your eyes at the back of Chewie's head. If anyone cheats, it's him. "I don't wanna play cards."

"You could mop the floors." You cross your arms and give him an unimpressed look. "I don't know what to tell you, kid. I can't make this thing go any faster."

You groan again, leaning your head back against the chair. Han closes his eyes again, still facing you, trying to resume the sleep that you interrupted.

Making yourself busy is a difficult task on a ship full of nothing but nuts and bolts. You spun around in the chair for a while, considered taking a nap, and now you've taken to drumming a rhythm on the armrests of your seat.

"If you're gonna be a pain in my ass this whole time, you can wait in the cargo hold," he says, voice gruff.

His voice breaking the silence scared you but you quickly recover. "There's nothing to do on this rust bucket. What do you do to pass the time normally?"

Han stays silent but raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. Your face curls into an expression of disgust. "Not in my seat, I hope."

"Everywhere, sweetheart," he smirks.

Han turns back around and you're left to wait some more. Eventually Chewie retires to his bunk for a nap, and you take his spot next to Han.

The unending silence got you thinking, Maybe Han's way of passing the time wouldn't be so bad. Being bored does make you horny, and it's not a terrible way to kill some time, especially if you did it together. He's an attractive guy and it's always better with someone else, right? At the very least, you know he can please a woman based on the stories he tells when he's drunk.

"Han." His eyes flick over to you. "I have something we could try."

He stretches out his legs and turns to face you with a neutral expression. "What's that."

"We could..." he looks at you expectantly. Honestly, you thought he would pick up on your intention before you had to spell it out for him. Now you're not sure exactly what you want to ask for.

"We could, what?"

"You could help me... you know," you say, raising your eyebrows trying to signal to him your meaning.

"I'm not quite followin' you," he says, but the slight smirk on his lips makes you think he's playing dumb.

"You could help me get off," you blurt out.

A slow grin forms on Han's lips and he allows his thighs to part even further. "Well shit, kid, why didn't you just say so in the first place? Could've saved us all that time just then."

Han pats his thigh and you get up from your seat and step over to him. You perch yourself on his thigh and he wraps his arm around your middle to keep you stable.

Being close to Han like this should feel weird. You've been nothing but platonic up until now, but he's looking at you like this isn't the first time he's pictured you in his lap.

"You really wanna fuck me or are you just bored and horny?" he asks as his fingertips trace circles on your thigh.

"Will my answer change the outcome?" you ask.

"No," he smirks.

Han grabs your hips and positions you so you're straddling his thighs. His hands then drift down to your ass and he gropes you shamelessly, not caring when you roll your eyes in his face. He touches all over you and while his large, calloused hands feel nice, it isn't taking the edge off.

"I thought you were helping me get off," you say.

"I can't play with your pussy if your clothes are on, sweetie," he says smugly.

You stand up and begin to strip. You feel a little nervous under Han's gaze, but he's drinking you in like you're the best thing he's ever seen. You know that's far from the truth; he's fucked princesses and queens and every beautiful woman on every planet.

Before you have the chance to turn back around to face Han, he is pressed up against your back and walking you forward to the control panel.

His hand is splayed across your stomach and his chin tucked over your shoulder. "Always knew you had a nice ass," he says in your ear.

He slides his hand down your front to the apex of your thighs. His fingers tease along your mound, dipping low enough to get your heart racing but not enough to quell the rapidly building ache.

"You want it, pretty girl?" he asks. You nod, but apparently that's not enough for him. "Nah, you gotta use your words. If you can't be a big girl and tell me what you want then you don't deserve it."

You sigh and lean back against his chest. You can faintly see your reflection in the windshield, but it's hard to see with the bright lights of hyperspace behind the glass.

"I want you to make me cum."

You can feel Han smirk against your neck as his fingers slide down between your lips. "Shit, you're wet already. Have you been workin' yourself up over there this whole time or do I just do it for you?"

"Shut up," you breathe.

Han's finger makes contact with your clit and you gasp. Noticing that you're sensitive there, he avoids the area so he can save it for the grand finale. He touches every inch of your cunt, swiping his fingers through your wet folds and dragging the mess around.

"What's a good girl like you doin' with a needy pussy like this?" he asks. "'s enough to make me fall in love."

You elbow Han in the side but he only laughs. Mercifully, he dips his finger into your cunt and eases it inside, allowing you to get used to the stretch of his large finger. He groans into your ear like he's starring in some cheesy holo porn, but you can't deny that the rasp of his voice is hot.

"You don't love me," you say.

"Not yet. As soon as I get my dick in this cunt I'm gonna, though."

He fucks you with his finger slowly and the drag of it against your sweet spot makes you curl with pleasure. Even with one finger he has this much of an effect on you. You can't imagine what his dick would do to you.

He works you up to fitting a second finger inside, but it's a tight fit. You're cunt squeezes around his fingers as he tries to scissors them in an attempt to open you up.

"Tight as a fuckin' vice, aren't you, baby? You're not a virgin, are you?" You shake your head no and give a small whine in response. "Didn't think so, but what a fuckin' idea that is, huh? Pretty little girl saving herself for the smuggler who can show her a good time."

Han's lips attach to the skin underneath your ear, sucking a hickey shamelessly onto your skin. You squirm, but the arm around your waist keeps you from getting far.

"Don't run from me, sweetheart. I'm being good to you, don't you think?"

"Uhhuh," you reply.

"Damn, kid. Just a little fingering and you go dumb on me?" Han curls his fingers and rubs them against your g-spot while his thumb rubs circles over your clit.

You can feel your walls fluttering aroud his fingers and you know you're getting close. Han's hand grips your hip tightly and the possession and roughness he's displaying serves to bring you to the edge quicker.

"Han," you whine.

"Cum on my fingers, kid. Get 'em soaked like a good girl," he says. "Make Daddy proud."

#star wars #han solo #han solo x reader #han solo smut #han solo imagine #han solo fanfic #han solo headcanons #han solo x female reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction

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musings-of-a-rose · 6 months

Text

Falling Slowly - Chapter 1

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes:This started as a simple idea for Tommy. He had different ideas and I can’t say no to those freckles and smile. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for helping me get unstuck. You always have such great ideas!

And a big thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for helping me form thoughts and give this a little shape. I hope I can be a quarter as talented as you one day!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described. Divider made by @benkeibear

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

It’s crowded in here tonight. Not quite theme park during season full, but close enough. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t seriously need a drink after the day I had at work. And this bar was the closest place to home that was still open.

Or maybe I just pulled into the first place I found.

I somehow manage to score a seat at the crowded bar, sliding quickly onto the stool that’s still warm from its previous occupant. I raise my hand to the bartender and she nods, taking another 2 orders before taking mine.

“Rum and Coke. Less Coke.”

She smiles, tossing me a wink before she walks off to make the drinks. I have to admit I’m mildly impressed by her memory, as she had taken at least 10 drink orders before mine and memorized them all. No wonder she has an overflowing tip jar.

It probably helps that she has giant tits too.

I take a few sips, letting the warmth of the rum spread through me, loosening my muscles before setting the glass down. The music playing is stupid loud, but the people seem to like it, jamming their sweaty bodies together in a tight group in the middle of the dance floor.

I’ll admit, this isn’t typically my scene. But the patients today were really on their game of trying to piss me off and I decided I earned a drink. I just wish I’d known how loud it would be. Thankfully, I'm not on call tomorrow.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

A man sits next to me, shifting his body so he’s facing me. When I don’t respond, he repeats himself, a little louder.

“I’m ok, thanks.” I try to let him down easy, but turning down a man who’s tipsy and looking to get laid is not an easy thing to do.

“Not yet you aren’t. We haven’t even spoken yet.”

Sighing, I turn my head to look at him. He’s all blue eyes and light hair, a slight tan on his face but one from hanging out at the pool and not from manual labor. I’d be surprised if this guy had to work for anything.

“I’m flattered, really, but I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on now, gorgeous. A little conversation won’t hurt.”

“Really, I’m good.” I turn my head back to my drink, removing my hand from the top of it to take a sip.

“You look stressed. I can help with that.”

His hand finds its way to my thigh, squeezing me slightly. But before I can do anything, a different, larger hand removes it for me.

“She said she was done talkin’.”

This new guy is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, a barrel chest, arms that could totally lift me, coupled with beautiful black curls, freckles speckled across his olive skin, accentuating his eyes, which I'm sure are normally kind when they aren't staring down an asshole.

The man who was talking to me yanks his hand away and stands up, the bar stool scraping across the floor.

"Fuck off, friend."

"Not until you leave the lady alone."

The man puffs up his chest, sticking his pointer finger out, jabbing at the man with the curls that I'd love to touch.

"Why don't you fuck off so you don't get hurt, hhmm? Me and the lady were getting along just fine."

The man with the curls looks at me and I shake my head, both to say I'm never going anywhere with this man and please don't get yourself hurt.

"Doesn't look like she wants to go with you."

The man glances over at me and I fix my face into what I hope is confidence.

"No way. I'm not going anywhere with you."

The man narrows his eyes. "I bought you a drink. The least you could do is come home with me."

Curls laughs and oh, I would love to hear that sound again. "Imagine being such a dick that you think forcing a drink upon a woman entitles you to sleep with her."

The man draws his fist back and quickly releases, punching Curls straight in the nose, his head flying backwards. He stumbles but doesn't go down, his hand swiping at his nose to see its already bleeding. The man tries to grab for me but Curls stops him, landing several good punches of his own.

"Stop! He's not worth it!" I try to step in but it's pointless. I can't get close enough to stop anything.

A minute or so later it doesn't matter because the cops show up, separating the men and loading them both into the back of cop cars, Curls meeting my eyes and giving me a small smile before he's pushed into the cab.

"Excuse me," I stop one of the cops. "Which jail is he going to?"

"Travis County. The one on 10th."

"Thanks."

The men load up and take off as I turn to walk to my car and head to the police station. When I arrive, the desk officer tells me I'll have to wait a while for them to be processed, but that they will both make bail.

So I wait.

Several hours later, the kind desk officer rouses me awake and let's me know I can post bail. I do and they ask me to wait in the lobby while they bring him to the front. When he comes around the corner, he's talking to the officer that's escorting him.

"Yes sir, but can you tell me who posted my bail?"

The officer nods in my direction while extending his arm out, indicating that the man should proceed without him. Curls turns in the direction the officer pointed him and locks eyes with me as I stand, folding my jacket over my arm. He smiles as we walk towards each other, making my cheeks feel warm under his gaze.

"You bailed me out?"

"I had to. You saved me."

God his smile is like sunshine. "Oh, you didn't owe me anything, darlin'."

"I definitely did. That guy was a creep and who knows what else he could've done?"

"Well at least let me pay you back the bail?"

I wave my hand at him. "No way."

"There must be some way for me to pay you back?"

I gesture at his face. "How about you let me take care of that?"

He touches his nose and looks at his hand, seeing some dried blood. "Oh, no that's ok. I'll just go clean up-"

I step closer to him, hand stretching towards his face. "I can't believe they didn't get you checked out."

"Ah I'll be alright."

"Stop arguing and come with me."

He looks at me, all brown eyes and tiny freckles, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "Yes ma'am."

Oh I am so fucked.

He follows me to my car and gets in the passenger side. As I turn the key on the ignition, I realize I don't even know his name.

"I'm Tommy by the way."

I tell him my name. "But my friends call me Daisy."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Daisy."

We make it back to my place, as his truck had been impounded and so unavailable until morning. Tommy tries to decline my offer of a place to stay while he waits for his truck, until I ask if I'm so offensive looking that he wouldn't want to come up to my apartment.

"No way, ma'am. Quite the opposite."

He follows me upstairs, kicking off his boots when I kick off my shoes. He looks around nervously and I see him scanning all the windows and doors.

"You serve?" I ask.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised. "Yeah. Desert Storm. How'd you know?"

"My dad always scans a place when he enters it. I'm assuming you'll want your back to a wall too? Exits visible?"

"I…yeah. That would be preferable."

I gesture to my couch, which is against the wall. "Have a seat. Let me get my first aid kit."

I grab my kit and some ice in a bag and sit next to Tommy, who turns his broad chest towards me when he sits up. His eyes glance behind me at my bookshelf.

"That shelf looks like it's on its last leg."

I chuckle. "Probably is. I've had it forever and it wasn't high quality to begin with. Just some Ikea shit."

He groans, like I’ve just offended his entire ancestor line. "No, not Ikea! I could make you some new ones."

"What, are you a carpenter or something?"

"Similiar. Contractor. But I do know my way around wood."

"So do I."

Tommy shifts his legs at my implication and I smirk, dabbing at the now dried blood on his face, cradling his chin with my other hand.

His eyes are on me, so close I can feel his breath puffing out against my skin and I feel heat starting to pool between my thighs.

"Pride and Prejudice?" He asks.

"What?"

"On your shelf."

"Oh. Yeah. Haven't read it in a while but I was obsessed when I was little. Wait - have you read it?"

He smirks. "Are you surprised?"

"A little."

"My niece needed help with her book report. So I read it to be able to help her."

"You read an entire book to help your niece with a paper?"

"Yeah."

"That's really sweet. Not many people would do that."

"Oh I'm not many people."

"That's for sure.. hey Tommy, are you hungry? I have some pizza left over."

His eyes flick between mine, a soft smile appearing on his face.

"I love pizza."

"Great!" I move to the kitchen and start getting out the pizza, putting some slices on my pizza stone and turning on the oven to preheat it.

"I rented the new X-Men movie from Blockbuster. Have you seen it?" I ask as the oven bings and I slide the pizza in it.

"You managed to snag a copy?"

"I bribed the cashier."

He chuckles. "I haven't seen it yet."

"Ok cool. I'll put that on for us."

The pizza finishes reheating and I divvy it up, offering Tommy a beer. We sit on the couch, plates on the coffee table as I get out the DVD. Tommy whistles.

"You got a DVD player?"

"Yeah. It was my one splurge on myself when I moved here. Well that and a new mattress."

I fast forward through the commercials, cursing the makers for not adding a "skip ad" button.

"Is your boyfriend gonna be alright with us hanging out?"

“Yeah, no. I don’t have one of those.”

Tommy sits up a little straighter. “Oh? Why not?”

I shrug. “I just moved to a whole new city and wanted to settle in. I don’t like long distance because it just never works out. Plus I can’t deal with all the-” I twist my wrist in a circle “- neediness?”

Tommy chuckles. “Neediness?”

“Yeah. My job takes a lot out of me and honestly, I don’t have the mental space for a boyfriend right now. That’s why I like you.”

Tommy points to himself, eyebrows raised in question. “Me?”

“Yeah. I’ve only known you a few hours but you’ve already saved my ass and don’t act all high and mighty. Plus you have great taste in books and movies.”

Tommy and I finish watching the movie and I drive him back to the impound lot now that it’s open. We exchange numbers and promise to hang out again, both of us missing the glances in the other’s direction. Although I’m pretty sure he caught me staring at his ass when he was standing at the checkout counter.

“So you’re just….friends?”

Tommy nods, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s what I said, Joel.”

Joel studies his brother, his eyes narrowing. “She pretty?”

“So pretty she’d make a man plow through a stump.”

The corner’s of Joel mouth tick up for a second before he fixes a stern look on his face. “Be careful, Tommy. It’s hard for men and women to be friends if they’re attracted to each other. Someone’s bound to get hurt.”

“That would mean she’s attracted to me, big brother, and there’s no way. She ain’t lookin’.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“‘Sides, don’t you want a good example set for Sarah? That boys and girls can just be friends?”

Joel shakes his head, pointing at Tommy. “I don’t want her near any boys for any reason for her entire life.”

>>Chapter 2>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

#tommy miller #gabriel luna #The last of us #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlouff #the last of us fanfic #gabriel luna x reader #gabriel luna x you #gabriel luna characters #gabriel luna character fanfic #gabriel lunal character ff #gabriel luna character fanfiction

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shanastoryteller · 2 years

Note

happy pride!! geraskier? 🏳️‍🌈

Yennefer doesn't think anything of the silver ring on Geralt's left hand. He's a witcher, for fuck's sake.

She keeps not thinking of it until she stumbles on him at a pub, which wouldn't be too strange except there's a semi-talented bard belting out a tune, jaunty and uplifting enough that the whole place is rowdy with it.

"I didn't know you liked music," she says, sliding into the chair next to him with a goblet full of mead.

He doesn't seem surprised at her presence, but he never does. He almost smiles at her, the closest he gets when they're still clothed. "I don't really have a choice."

She's still trying to puzzle that out when the bard careens towards their table and plops himself in Geralt's lap, continuing to play and sing from his new position.

Yennefer freezes, waiting for Geralt to shove him aside or start yelling or even draw his sword. Instead he smirks, pointedly turning his head away to drink his beer. The bard goes so far to lean back into his chest, his head falling over Geralt's shoulder and singing directly into his ear.

The volume can't be comfortable if nothing else, but Geralt doesn't so much as flinch. Neither do the other patrons, laughing and shouting and no one screaming obscenities' or going green at the sight of a witcher.

For a moment, Yennefer almost thinks that she's not speaking to Geralt at all, but she dismisses the thought just as quickly. Her magic would sense if he were a doppler or under a glamour.

The bard only stands once he's finished, bowing to all the clapping patrons and accepting several beers when he refuses an encore - or a second encore, based on what several people are yelling.

People eventually dissipate and the bard drops into the seat next to Geralt. "Who's the pretty lady?" he asks, taking Geralt's beer instead of any of the full ones littering the table.

"She could eat you," he says but the bard just laughs.

She notices a familiar silver ring on his left finger and her eyes drop to Geralt's hand. They're identical.

"Sorry that he's so rude," the bard says, holding out his hand. "I'm Jaskier. You're gorgeous."

She doesn't take his hand, instead slowly moving her gaze between them. "How do you two know each other?"

Geralt sighs. "Don't-"

"Carnally," he says, "physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, metaphysically-"

"Do you even know what that means?" Geralt asks.

"Alchemically," Jaskier continues, "holistically-"

"I'm going to divorce you," he says, which at least answers that question.

Jaskier shrugs. "You can try. How did you two meet?"

Yennefer stills. She's not pleased with being the other women, but she's not about to get in the middle of anyone's marital business, even Geralt's, so she'll just agree with with whatever lie Geralt tells.

"She put a curse on me and now we sleep together," he says.

Jaskier looks her over, but less like a jealous lover and how she's used to men looking at her. "Nice."

He holds his hand up for a hand five which Geralt ignores. Jaskier pouts.

A very pretty barmaid comes over, holding a cup of the same mead Yennefer is drinking. "Hello, Jaskier," she says shyly, the lines around her eyes taking nothing away from the lush curves of breast and thigh. "You have such a lovely voice. I'd love to hear more of it, later, if you're free."

Jaskier looks to Geralt with a raised eyebrow. Geralt shrugs.

"No time like the present, my lady," he says, bouncing to his feet. He takes the mead in one hand and settles the other on her hip, leading her toward the stairs.

Yennefer stares. "You're just going to let him do that?"

He shrugs again. "You can sleep with him too if you want. He's the one that taught me the thing with my tongue that you like so much."

Interesting, but not currently her focus. "Why didn't you tell me you were married?"

How the hell is a witcher married? To a bard, of all people?

"You didn't ask," he answers, and then says nothing else.

Okay, just for that she is going to sleep with his husband.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #kourasmenos #witcher

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deadsnothere · 1 year

Text

"I'm sleeping with your sister"

Synopsis - While alias and lockwood are on a date Alias's brother Quill Kipps find his sister and his enemy enjoying a "conversation and a cup of tea." (warning: it gets a bit spicy at the end no actual smut but hints at it!!)

Masterlist

Request - Nope but they are open, pls request stuff guys i'm begging!!!

Word count - 1.7k

Speak Ali! - PLEASE REQUEST!! I will not use y/n but i will use Alias, and you can request things like "george's sister" or "the best listener" Alias is just the base name i'll use 😭 SO PLEASE REQUEST <3

Alias didn't mind when Kipps was a dick.

Except for when he was a dick to Lockwood and Co. Alias joined Lockwood and Co a good while ago, Quill always thought it was a waste of her talent. Thought that instead of agency work she should’ve gone into making flare’s and engineering since she was so good with that field of work. He even got Fittis to offer her a job as a mechanic after a mission went wrong as an agent. But she declined and told him she already got another job and left it at that. Alias and Quill were never that close, They had almost exactly opposite personalities, Alias was kind and sweet, sarcastically caring and the biggest drama queen in residence of 35 Portland row, and loves Anthony lockwood. While Quill was- Well Quill and despises Anthony lockwood.

“Well..if it isn't Andrew.” I immediately felt my eyes roll. When I looked up there was my dear brother himself. Quill Kipps! He looked over to me smiling, Ethan, one of Quill's agents, who stood closest to me, doing the same. Quill was acting nicer now then when he first learned that I’d joined Lockwood and Co as an Agent/Mechanic, he wasn't exactly happy. I was rendezvousing with the ‘enemy’. Little does he know I'm doing much more than that.

Me and Anthony were just trying to enjoy a date- A simple date at a small cafe before we went out with Lucy and Norrie, Can't even get that in this family! “What do you want, Kipps? Can you not see I'm trying to enjoy a cup of tea and a conversation?” Lockwood looked pissed. I'm pretty sure he was more pissed about Ethan being here than anything. If it was just Quill I'm sure he would be a little less angry but he always said he hated the way Ethan looked at me.

And so did I honestly but mainly because it was creepy- Even now in the middle of a cafe he was staring at me through the corner of his eye, acting like we definitely could not tell what or who he was looking at. “I'm sure now that Quill got his tea he can leave us alone Anthony, don't worry.” I spoke calmly trying to keep the little peace there was.

Quill snapped his head over to look at me. I’m not even kidding, I think I actually heard a crack- “Anthony!? Since when did you call him Anthony, Alias?” I raised an eyebrow, faking a confused face and biting down on my tongue, to keep my nerves down. “Since, I joined the agency…Me and Anthony have become very close friends, I’ll have you know.” Anthony snorted out a laugh from across the table, looking out the window to the side. I kicked his shin lightly, giving him the best ‘I will kick you in the balls’ glare I could muster.

Quill looked over to him, aggravated. “You have something to say, Tony?” Lockwood looked back to Quill acting like he didn't just laugh at me calling us ‘friends’. “Hm? Oh no-” Anthony turned his head to me next, making eye contact. He tilted his head up slightly, his fingers played with his chapped lips. Gods that made me think of last night, my lipstick marks was all over his face, it was so cute he looked so done with me but continued to let me kiss all over his face nonetheless. I looked away from him this time trying to keep the redness in my face down. Gods, this man is infuriating. I just want to kiss him till he can’t breath-

“No I just think it's funny is all.” “What's so funny?” Ethan responded next, even surprising Quill. “That you're both so caught up in Alias’s business. She's more mature than the both of you combined and yet you cling to her like she needs to be protected from everything.” He looked away from me to the other two to the right of him, taking a sip of his earl gray.

What a fucking hypocrite. He acts like he doesn't do the same shit! ‘Oh Alias you can’t do that! It’ll explode’ Or ‘Oh Alias Let me test that very new flare design instead of you even though you're the one who made it’ and ‘I'll protect you darling, even though I have a broken arm and I've been stabbed 14 times in the ribs!’ Ok maybe that last one was a bit dramatic but sometimes I think he would…

“How dare you! I'm their older brother- I have full right to be worried over their safety at your shady agency, Lockwood.” “I've known them both my entire life, it's just being a gentleman!” Lockwood scoffed back at both of their words. Although he seemed more offended at the thought that I wouldn't be safe at Lockwood and Co.

“If there's one thing I'm sure of Kipps, is that Alias’s safety is prioritized at our agency. More than you can say after your last mission together.” After a mission as an agent at fitties went south, Quill became a lot more protective over me. It was bothersome the majority of the time but there were very rare moments it was useful. “Don't you dare bring that up! You have no right to say that about me- You don't even know what happened other than what was put on the papers and that's barely true.” Anthony nodded along with Quill, a knowing look on his face. “But Ali told me everything. What you did..what you didn't.”

Quill looked so pissed, but immediately tried to ignore the comment about me telling him everything from that night. “Ali?! You let him call you Ali! You hate that nickname, you’ve always hated that nickname-” Ant looked so proud of himself, Laughing dryly. Interrupting my own response. “She's let me do a lot more than that Kipps, A lot more.” Three head’s shot over to him. Me kicking him in the shin, harder than the first time to hopefully get a point across. Ethan looked less than happy, with his pitiful little stare. And Quill looked as if he wasn't sure what he was going to do first, torture or kill him.

“He started to call me by the nickname on his own! I just didn't stop him..” I put my hands up in defense. “He’s a stubborn man ok? and plus it's..kinda sweet.” I put my hands back down, taking a sip of my hot chocolate, avoiding eye contact from my poor brother. It didn't take much to know Lockwood was enjoying this, just the annoying smirk when I called him sweet, and when Quill’s face turned red from anger.

“Sweet? Him sweet! He's a prick! an arsehole- The biggest dick I've met since trevor.” Trevor was a mutual friend we had, let's just say it didn't end well. “She certainly thinks I do.” I choked on my hot chocolate about dying as I tried to regain my composure. Quill’s face went dead serious. “She what.” I have a feeling this is going to end as badly as trevor. “I’m sleeping with your sister Kipps. We’ve been dating for almost a year.” Ethan’s face dropped, jaw opened, while Quill just looked at me, his eyes almost pleading for it not to be true. “Surprise?” I said in an uncertain tone, slowly moving my hands up to do jazz hands. Yeah just keep doing Jazz hands they make everything better-

It's not completely unprompted that we tell my brother, I mean we've had conversations about it in the past, we just never really got to it! “Alias Kipps when I told you don't rendezvous with the enemy I meant it!” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “He's your enemy not mine!-” Quill looked almost offended. “You used to hate him too!” “Well He's obviously far from my enemy now!” “We bonded over hating him!” “Well now we can bond over making out with him!”

Lockwood was watching this conversation like a tennis game. A smirk on his face the entire time, until my head snapped to him. “And you, don't think you're free, and don't think I don't know of your little jealousy game. I have half a mind to kick your ass right now.” Quill’s face now held a smirk. I was looking back and forth between the boys, about ready to murder, and it showed on my face. “Now Quill, Ethan please walk away and if you’ll excuse me and my boyfriend. We are going to continue our date. bye bye” If it weren't for the fact that I looked ready to kill, they probably wouldn't have left, but after being my sibling for so long I think Quill learned what I could and couldn't do. They both reluctantly walked away keeping his stare on me and Anthony until he was out of the cafe.

I'm not sure which feeling was stronger, lust or anger. but i'm pretty sure it's both. I mean what an ass! Who does anthony think he is! He didn't even ask if it was ok to tell him. God he made my blood boil, but by the way he was sitting there with his legs man spread looking so proud of himself gods, I just want to absolutely ruin his perfect face. Force him to whine and whimper for my touch. Gods he'd look so perfect...

This was going to be a long date.

“Anthony.” I took in a deep breath trying to relax my head, at this point I couldn't tell what was anger and what was lust. He smiled at me with his ‘please forgive me’ smile. “Yes darling?” I stood up and took two steps to stand beside him, whispering in his ear. “When we get home, I expect to find you on your bed ready for me, got it?” I put my hand on his thigh and set my other hand on his shoulder. He nodded as a yes but that isn't exactly what I was expecting, he knows exactly what I'm expecting. The hand on his thigh trailed up just a bit higher, “Excuse me?” “Yes ma'am.” I nodded in satisfaction, patting his shoulder and moving both of my hands away. Picking up my to-go cup of hot chocolate, which was still hot, thank gods.

“Come on, Ant! We have places to be don't we? Promised Lucy and Norrie that double date.” I kissed his cheek and patted the other with my hand. “But I'll uh- give you a minute, I'll be outside getting a cab.” Even as I was walking away I could feel him staring at me. This time his stare was almost pleading for me to come back, desperate for attention.

part 2?

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co dr #anthony bloody lockwood #mentions #lucy x norrie #lucy carlyle #norrie white #part 2?#quill kipps #lockwood netflix #speak ali!!#the chronicles of alias forman #reader has a name #anthony lockwood x alias foreman

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vivitalks · 3 months

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like a burst of technicolor in a world of black and white

for the prompt "painting nails" on my @jasico-challenges bingo card. guys i am really having fun with this bingo thing have yall heard about this. this shit rules anyway imagine an AU where trials of apollo is a collective hallucination we all experienced and then decided never to speak of again. and instead jason stayed at CHB after the showdown w gaea. okay you are now prepared for the events of this fic xoxo

title from extraordinary magic by ben rector :) read here on ao3

“How come you didn't go to school?”

Fair question, but pretty random.

They're spread out on the floor of Cabin One. When Nico marched in armed with a bottle of nail polish the color of a cloudless sky and insisted on painting Jason's nails, Jason tossed his sketchbook aside. Any activity with Nico is better than drawing shrines alone.

Nico got to work and they descended into easy silence. Jason figured that was for Nico's focus, so he didn't break it, just allowed his mind to wander aimlessly.

When he tunes back in at Nico's inquiry, he sees two nails painted — left index and middle, coated in light blue. Jason has never had his nails painted. He doesn't know if it's always this soothing, but if it is, he can understand why so many people do it.

“You mean instead of staying at camp year-round?”

Nico nods and takes the brush to Jason's next finger. His face of concentration is extremely cute: narrowed eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip, one rebellious strand of dark hair he keeps blowing out of his face only for it to fall right back in his eyes.

“You could have,” he says. “You’d only have two years before graduation. Could get a diploma.”

Jason shrugs. “Yeah, but why would I? It’s not like I was getting a formal education before. Praetor was a year-round job.”

Nico hums. He's really very good at this. If the demigod thing doesn't pan out, he has a future as a manicurist.

“Plus,” Jason adds gamely, “I don't exactly have a parent or guardian to enroll me anywhere.”

“I'm sure Chiron would be more than happy to falsify some legal documents.”

Jason chuckles. “You think so?”

“Are you kidding?” Nico snorts. “Percy told me Chiron posed as his Latin teacher for a full year when he was younger. He would love to invent a transcript for you.”

Jason gives this a dismissive laugh so they can put the topic to rest. He thought about trying to go to school, for sure. He spent about six minutes seriously considering it. I could have some normalcy, he'd mused. Be a high school kid. Sure, I don't have any surviving mortal parents, or anywhere to live during the school year, or any money, or any previous course credits, or any documents to prove I'm a real person, but. Those are solvable problems.

Then he’d thought, Or I could stay at camp, and the decision made itself.

Maybe it's bleak to say, but there's nothing for him out there. In the real world. He has no memory of being a baby living with Thalia and his mother, and after that, his whole life was the legion. Training with Lupa was the closest thing Jason had to elementary school. Everything that matters to him — his friends, his family, his sworn duty to the minor gods — starts and ends in camp. His youth is tattooed with the brand of Camp Jupiter. His freedom is a leather necklace tied by Camp Half-Blood.

Why leave?

“I'm good here,” is all he says.

Nico isn't ready to drop it. “But then why stay here? You didn't want to go back to Camp Jupiter?”

Jason raises both eyebrows. “Did you want me to?”

“No!” Nico scowls. “I'm just curious.”

Methodical brush strokes turn Jason's fourth fingernail blue. It's a pretty color; Jason wonders what inspired Nico to choose it. It's probably not Nico's first time painting someone's nails, because he's very skillfully managing not to get any polish on Jason's skin. He has good hands for the job — thin and precise. Careful. Deliberate.

“The plan was really to split my time,” Jason says, just as careful, just as deliberate. “I was already at Camp Half-Blood, so I figured I'd spend a little while here, then a while at Camp Jupiter, and, you know, so on.”

“But…it's been two months,” Nico says.

The unspoken question: why haven't you gone back yet?

“Well, yeah,” Jason says. His own stillness is becoming uncomfortable. If he moves, he risks ruining Nico's artwork, but sitting this stationary isn't in his nature. Like most demigods, he has a compulsion to fidget. It's less noticeable in him — less than, say, Leo — but in moments of extreme stagnancy, it doubles down.

“Are you planning to go back at all?”

It's not an interrogation. At least, Jason doesn't think so. It's not small talk, either. Nico is his friend. This is a friendly conversation. There are no wrong answers here.

“Eventually,” Jason says. “To visit. But…to stay?” He shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

“All your friends are there,” Nico says, and he's still looking down, focused on his task, like this statement is a reflex, requiring no thought.

“Not all,” Jason says, watching him. “You're here.”

That gets Nico’s attention. He looks up. “Me?”

“You're my friend,” Jason says.

“Don't tell me you stayed here just for me.” It comes out like a bad joke. Like it couldn't possibly be true.

“Well…” Jason pauses. “I don't know if that's the only reason, but it definitely helped.”

“What? Are you joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Because that's—” Nico stops halfway through painting Jason’s little finger. He gestures like words aren't enough. “That's crazy!”

“You just said I should go to Camp Jupiter because my friends are there,” Jason says, puzzled. “Why is it crazy to stay at Camp Half-Blood for the same reason?”

“I’m one person. Friend, singular. Meanwhile your entire cohort of friends is over in California.”

“Yeah, but…” Jason gnaws his cheek. He has this suspicion Nico won't like any of his answers, then decides he doesn't care. “They don't need me over there. I gave my praetorship to Frank, so I'm officially released from leadership duty, and I don't regret it for a second. It makes no difference to the legion if I'm there or not, except as this— I don't know, symbol of greatness that I…really am not.” He grimaces, examining his semi-painted pinky nail, this half-finished, imperfect thing. “Here, I feel like…maybe it matters if I'm here or not. And not because of who my dad is or my rank or anything, just because…well, we're friends.”

Nico stares. Then he lifts Jason's hand and starts painting again, picking up where he left off. With his gaze trained downward, away from Jason's, he says, “It does matter. To me.”

Jason smiles. He gets the same feeling as stepping outside in the morning into perfect weather — pleasantly, comfortably surprised.

“There you go, then,” he says. “I mean, if you want me to leave—”

“No,” Nico says quickly, then glares as if he's mad about being tricked into admitting he wants Jason to stay. Recovering, he snarks, “If you leave, I won’t have anyone to subject to my nail-polish schemes.”

“I bet Will would let you paint his nails.”

“Will wouldn't let me anywhere near him with any kind of artistic implement, as well he shouldn’t. I would absolutely deface him.”

“Honored that you've elected not to deface me.”

Nico turns a rosy shade of pink. “This time.”

This is that other kind of Nico threat, the kind reserved for friends. For Jason. The kind that, underneath, isn't a threat at all, but a promise.

This time means there will be a next time. That's Jason's favorite kind of threat.

“You're weirdly good at this,” Jason says. Nico has finished his left hand by now and moved on to the right. “Since when is this in your skill set?”

“Bianca,” Nico says. Matter-of-fact, without room to grieve. “A couple nights when we were in the Lotus Hotel, she asked me to paint hers. First time I tried, it was such a mess. She did mine to show me how, so I could learn.”

Jason catches his breath. “Clearly it paid off, ‘cause you're killing it.”

This was something Nico did with Bianca. And now he's sharing it with Jason. That gives Jason a feeling in his gut that's both warm and heavy, like a big dog is curled up in there, taking a sunbeam nap.

“You'll have to do mine after,” Nico says, still no-nonsense. “Black, obviously.”

“I don't have any nail polish.”

“I brought some. Lacy gave it to me. From Cabin Ten. Magical, so it doesn't smudge or chip.”

“I didn't even realize nail polish did that.”

“You have a lot to learn.” Nico nods sagely. “That's okay. Everyone starts somewhere.”

“It is very relaxing. I can see the appeal,” Jason admits. He wiggles the fingers of his finished hand, admiring them. “How’d you land on this color, though? Or was it just a random pick?”

Nico looks strangely at Jason. Some of that blush from earlier returns. “You're…the son of the sky god.”

Jason studies the color. It's not quite sky blue, but close enough. “Huh,” he says, feeling silly for not having made the connection. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Besides,” Nico says, a little quieter like it's not exactly for Jason to hear, but not not for him to hear, either, “it's the color of your eyes.”

That sleeping dog behind Jason's navel starts thumping its tail.

“Oh,” Jason says. He's not sure he could confirm that, but Nico sounds utterly certain. The fact that Nico has spent enough time looking at Jason's eyes that he can pinpoint their exact shade is its own can of worms. For future opening. At a later date. “Well, I like it. It's pretty.”

“Yeah,” Nico says, and his fingers press gently into Jason's palm as he continues to paint. “It is.”

#jasicobingochallenge2024 #painting nails #fanfiction #pjo #pjo fic #jason grace #nico di angelo #jasico #jasico fic #fic #my fic #my writing #i never make fic posts like this anymore but like why not #so many of these bingo prompt fills are gonna be short enough to do this with them #so like. executive decision this is what im doing now #do u ever start writing something not knowing where it's going #and then it goes somewhere and youre like holy shit i didnt realize thats where this was going but woah. woah #that was me with when i figured out that the reason nico can paint nails is because of bianca #i didnt write that shit. nico TOLD me that. me and jason learned that information at the same time #which was the exact moment when it became nico dialogue #and i went. oh boy. oh god. oh fuck #side note: this fic is rated g for general audiences because NO SWEAR WORDS! shocked and appalled #who AM i #the big dog in jason's psychological stomach is mrs oleary but i couldnt come up with a reason why he would know who that is #so i couldnt mention her by name #but the ones who know...they know

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wqxianwriting · 2 years

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soft moment with your boyfriends.

didn’t proofread | gn!reader | fluff | short story | poly relationship with charlie & nick

#%a/n%#;; i was writing a summary for my class, it took like 3 months hello? /srs and im listening to a podcast kit was in while writing this HAHHAGJ, multitasking at it’s finest. ive just been thinking abt the kit video with tHE GRAPE FLAVOR (ifykyk) and thinking abt a picture that joe posted that showed his body and not being weird, respectfully, its a brainrot. i just wanna cuddle them :’) this is just a little soft story, i wanted to talk abt charlie’s body discomfort a little but around a time where he’s more comfortable with physical touch, you can imagine this happening in anytime just dont be weird. you dont cross his boundaries and it’s not angst (i was planning on it to be aha) but enjoy :)

characters:

nick nelson & charlie spring (heartstopper)

you were hanging upside down on charlie’s bed, scrolling on instagram boredly, as your boyfriend tries on new sweaters he got from shopping. your eyes drift towards his figure, he was struggling pulling it over his head, to which your other boyfriend went towards him to help. your eyebrows dip as you laugh lightly before turning back to your phone.

“i heard that.” charlie mumbles, finally slipping it passed his head and into his arms. when it’s fully covering him nick wraps his arms around his waist with his chin rested on his shoulder. “hi.” he says softly, locking eyes with the other through the mirror.

“hi.” nick smiles cutely, ducking into his shoulder while squeezing his sides.

they both snap out of a daze when they hear the camera shuttering go off and turn their heads quickly towards you. a huge smirk is on your features, now you’re sitting crisscrossed on the floor with your phone faced towards them fully. nick lets go of charlie and jumps towards you, both of you laughing.

“if you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so,” nick grins, fingers tickling your sides.

your head throws back, fits of laughter still leaving your mouth as you toss your phone down to grab his wrists, your eyes meet his, “i didn’t know i had to ask my boyfriend’s to cuddle.” your eyebrow raises accusingly as a joke and nick laughs. you both calm down, getting up and onto the bed. a content sigh leaves your mouth before in sync you and nick open your arms towards charlie. “come hereee.”

charlie was watching with his arms crossed, leaning against his mirror with a lovingly smile, but now that the attention is on his he sits up straight with flushed cheeks. his eyelids close slightly before he takes stiff steps towards his two lovers then breaking out in a small run before jumping on the two of you, grunts filling the room between all of you.

“that…. that wasn’t that smart.” charlie groans, picking himself up before tossing some extra pillows on the floor and turning in the middle of you two.

“yeah… you might’ve broken a ribcage, charlie spring.” your arm slings over your face dramatically.

“oh yeah?” his eyebrow raises in a teasing way before poking the shit out of your ribcage closest to him.

“fUCK— i mean—“ you grab his hang hurriedly, EVEN if it wasn’t broken he elbowed your rib, not cool. “charlie stop.” you get closer to his face, he moves back into nick’s chest with no escape and you comp down on his cheek for a second.

“ow.” he pouts, nick stares at you both with a glint in his eyes, hands reaching around charlie without him knowing and pulling his cheeks. “owwwww, stoph.” he mumbles trying to pulling nick’s fingers away.

your hands slide under charlie’s sweater carefully, not wanting to scare the boy before pulling his lower area towards yours, tangling all three of your legs around eachother. “is this fine, charlie?” your fingers lightly tap his lower waist.

nick lets go to let the boy answer, charlie sits there still for a moment, his eyebrows churn trying to make up his mind. “i mean? i don’t know. it feels nice but it’s still kind of uncomfortable.” he lets out a neevous laugh and your hands slip out from his sweater now on top of it and holding his waist once more. his face flushes and his eyes look kind of teary.

“hey, hey it’s okay.” nick kisses the top of his head, rubbing his shoulders softly before his kisses move down.

“ohhh our sweet boy.” you hum kissing his face.

“stop, you two are so cringy.”

“it’s cringe to say that.” you remark back, charlie rolls his eyes in response. one of your arms stay on charlie’s waist and the other reaches over to grab nick’s waist. “ohhh our other sweet boy.”

nick laughs softly, connecting your hands. you stare at both of your boyfriend’s, they look so cuddly and soft. everyday you spend with them it feels like you’re constantly falling right back in love, you never want to get rid of that feeling. your heart feels so warm.

your eyes slowly close, feeling a rush of sleepiness, as your body is pulled even closer towards the other two. they both whisper loving words to you as you all fall into a comfortably slumber.

#.my writing #heartstopper x gn!reader #heartstopper x gn reader #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper x gender neutral reader #nick and charlie x gn!reader #nick and charlie x gender neutral reader #btw if i ever make another piece when it comes to nick and charlie they will always be poly #and the partner will always be m! or gn! :)

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jjsmaybank20 · 2 years

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The Other Parker Part 1

Wanda Maximoff x Parker!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of. Warnings will come with the chapters.

Word Count: 832

This is my first fic, so it's going to be horrible. Be warned.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

navigation marvel masterlist

---

Y/N's POV "Y/N! Peter! I'm ordering a pizza! What do you guys want on it?" Aunt May yells across the apartment.

"Pete. May is getting a pizza. What do you want on it?" I ask my twin brother, who has his undivided attention on his web shooters. "Huh? Oh, I would like pepperoni." He says absentmindedly. "Just pepperoni is fine!" I yell back out to her. "You got it kiddos! Coming right up in... 20 minutes!" I snicker and turn back to what I was working on. "Alright. Let's see if you work." I mutter to myself. "Pete! Pass me the ion particle charger." Peter looks up from his shooters. "What's the magic word?" He says with a grin. I pretend to think about it for a moment before replying, "Is it..." and then I stick my middle finger up at him.

"Hey! What'd I ever do to you?" He whines in fake offense. "Well, to start with, you still haven't given me the charger. Now let me think of all the other things..." He rolls his eyes at me and says, "Ok, ok, I get it. Here." Without looking up from my project, I catch the item that Peter has tossed to me. Just as I'm about to plug it into my work, the doorbell rings. "Pizzas here!" Aunt May calls. We can hear her getting up to open the door. Peter and I both push our work away carefully and grin at each other. "Race ya!" I exclaim suddenly and bolt out of the room. I hear Peter over my shoulder yell, "No fair! You got a head start, Y/N!" I am just about to run into the living room when I hear Aunt May say, "Wai- you're not the pizza delivery guy! You're-" "Tony Stark, at your service. And might I add, what a lovely doorway you have." I freeze. Tony Stark is at our house? This can't be true. I feel Peter skid up behind me. I signal for him to be quiet, and in return I get a confused look. He signals for me to read his mind.

What's up? Why do we have to be quiet?

I push my thoughts into his head.

Because apparently Tony Stark, our idol, our role model, is standing in our doorway.

He shakes his head like he doesn't believe me and goes to make his way into the living room. I run after him, trying to catch him before he gets there. We both fall into the room and freeze. There, sitting on our couch, is none other than Iron Man himself. Tony Stark.

Wanda's POV "Mr. Stark is requesting your presence in the briefing room, Ms. Maximoff." I hear F.R.I.D.A.Y. announce. "Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y. Tell him I'll be there in a sec." I bookmark my book and get up to go to the meeting room. On the way to the elevator, I bump into my closest friend in the compound, Natasha Romanoff. "Do you know what this meeting is about?" I ask her. "I think Starks' discussing some new recruits that we are getting." I nod my head in understanding. When Nat and I arrive in the meeting room, we see that everyone else is already there. "Finally! Now we can get started." Stark exclaims. I roll my eyes at him before Steve gives me a warning look and then gives Stark a 'go on' gesture. "Alright! We are here to discuss two potential recruits. I'm excited about these two! They are twins named Peter and Y/N Parker." As he says their names, he pulls up a picture of them and puts them side by side. I can't help but stare at the picture of the girl twin. She has a playful glint in her eye, but it also looks like there is something deeper down there too. Her eyes are mesmerizing...

snap out of it, Wanda! What was that?

I shake my head to clear it and tune back into what Stark is saying. "Parents, deceased. Living with their Aunt, May Parker in Queens." He looks around. "Any questions?" I slowly raise my hand. "Yes, Witchy?" I glare at him but then ask, "when would we meet them?" He shrugs and says, "I'm going to go pay them a visit right now. If they accept, it could be as soon as today." I nod and get up to walk out of the room. "Wanda! Wait up!" I turn around and see Nat running to catch up with me. "What's up?" I ask her. She smirks at me and says, "I saw you staring at the picture of Y/N. You started blushing and kinda zoned out. You totally think she's hot!"

Yeah, well who wouldn't. Wait wha-

Where did that thought come from?! And why did I get butterflies in my stomach when Nat said Y/N's name?! I quickly excuse myself from the conversation and run up to my room, knowing Nat is still standing there smirking about it.

#wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #parker!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x parker!reader

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some-little-infamy · 9 days

Text

My favorite lyrics from each song off The Tortured Poets Department:

Fortnight (ft. Post Malone): "I was a functioning alcoholic until nobody noticed my new aesthetic" The Tortured Poets Department: "At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger / And Put it on the one people put wedding rings on / And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding"

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys: "I'm Queen of sand castles he destroys"

Down Bad: "Everything comes out teenage petulance/ Fuck it, if I can't have him / I might just die it'll make no difference" So Long, London: "And you say I abandoned the ship / But I was going down with it / My white-knuckle dying grip"

But Daddy I Love Him: "I'll tell you something about my good name / it's mine alone to disgrace"

Fresh Out The Slammer: "Swirled you into all of my poems / Now we're at the starting line"

Florida!!! (ft. Florence & the Machine): "Yes, I'm haunted, but I'm feeling just fine / All of my girls got their lace and their crimes"

Guilty as Sin?: "Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks."

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me: "I was tame, I was gentle, 'till the circus life made me mean / Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth" and "You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" (I CAN'T PICK THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG I'M SORRY)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can): "Your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger / I can fix him, no really, I can"

loml: "Still alive, killing time at the cemetery / Never quite buried"

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart: "I cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art!"

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived: "I would've died for your sins, now I just died inside"

The Alchemy: "We've been on a winning streak / He jokes that it's heroin, but this time with an 'E'"

Clara Bow: "I'm not trying to exaggerate / but I think I might die if I made it"

The Black Dog: "And you jump up, but she's too young to know this song / That was intertwined in the magic fabric of our dreaming"

imgonnagetyouback: "Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you"

The Albatross: "So I crossed my thoughtless heart / spread my wings like a parachute / I'm the albatross / I swept in at the rescue"

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus: "If you wanna break my cold, cold heart / Just say 'I loved you the way that you were' "

How Did It End?: " The deflation of our dreaming / Leaving me bereft and reeling / My Beloved Ghost and me / sitting in a tree / D-Y-I-N-G" So High School: "And in a blink of a crinkling eye / I'm sinking, our fingers entwined / Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights"

I Hate It Here: "I'll save all my romanticism for my inner life, and I'll get lost on purpose" thanK you aIMee: "But when I count the scars, there's a moment of truth / That there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you"

I Look in People's Windows: "Does it feel alright to not know me? / I'm addicted to the 'if only' "

The Prophecy: "Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen"

Cassandra: "When it's 'burn the bitch', they're shrieking / When the truth comes out, it's quiet"

Peter: " 'Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned"

The Bolter: "Splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless / Excellent fun 'til you get to know her"

Robin: "You have no room in your dreams for regrets"

The Manuscript: "The professor said to write what you know / looking backwards might be the only way to move forward"

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #lyrics #THIS ALBUM MEANS SO MUCH TO ME OKAY

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pigeonwit · 10 months

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idk if you're still doing these, but I got Superheroes/Superpowers ‎AU & 1920s ‎AU from the generator

(there is literally no way for me to write a 20s superhero au without landing on spider-man noir in some ways, but i did my best.)

Jack can’t explain why he is the way he is. He can’t explain why the grease and grime of New York City clings to him like a second skin, draping him in shadow until he’s unnoticeable, just another speck on the sidewalk. He can’t explain why his shots don’t miss, why the pistols bend to his will and the metal follows his movements, as if tangled in the nerves within his skin. He can’t explain why his trolley rides never cost a cent, why every carriage he hops always takes him to the destination he wants, why no jail cell can hold him for longer than a day or why most folks will listen to him without question if he murmurs something in their ear low enough.

He can’t explain why he can’t leave New York. He can’t explain why his feet can never cross the threshold of a train carriage, why his body seems to heave and drag the further he walks along the tracks.

All he knows is that this city wants to keep him, and keep him she will.

So he walks. That’s all Jack does now, walk the streets. The city takes him where she wants him to go. Sometimes it’s Medda’s, where he’ll paint one of her memories into reality, and her speakeasy will shine a bit brighter for it. Sometimes it’s a workhouse, where he’ll sneak blankets and food underneath the resident’s beds and pummel anyone who tries to stop him (the guards don’t question it anymore, not after what he did to their boss – and he’s made sure the workers know how to reach him if they try anything).

On one occasion, it’s the Refuge. He hadn’t wanted to go; he kept trying to turn around, but every road led him back to the iron gates. So he grits his teeth and walks right in, passes through all the guards and searchlights like a ghost. The kids are terrified when they see him – they’d scream if they had the energy left for it. He raises a finger to his lips and leaves them be.

According to the police, no one saw who killed Irvin Snyder. According to the inmates, they’d all been asleep when it happened.

It gets a bit harder when the journalists keep showing up; the Plumber girl and her smartmouth sidekick. They’re good kids, he knows it, but they’re a pain in his neck half the time. There’s a quiet knowledge inside Jacob’s eyes, candles flickering where Jack doesn’t notice them, full of secrets that Jack’s desperate to know; and Plumber’s hair, her smile, it’s sunlight, raw and unfiltered. They burn through Jack’s shadows, light up all the places he tries to hide. He’s surprised they’ve stuck around, if he’s being honest – the city’s had no trouble hiding him from anyone before. But they keep finding him, keep figuring him out in ways he doesn’t want them to, and it’s getting difficult to manage.

“Sir! Sir, if we could just-!”

“I’m busy!” Jack snaps – his skin prickles on a phantom bullet, and he whirls around in a flurry of wool and leather, firing through the skull of one of Wiesel’s goons.

“Katherine, I think maybe we listen to the vigilante on this one-?!”

“Hang on-!” Plumber shoves a corpse out of her way – it flops gracelessly onto a sawhorse, the neck jutting at an unnatural angle – and drags Jacobs with her.

“Katherine – Katherine, may we please not walk into the middle of a shoot-out, Katherine-!” Jacobs’ voice steadily rises as the bullets fly closer to them both – Jack makes a strangled noise behind his teeth and shoves a table onto its side, blocking them both from the fire.

“Mister The Cowboy!” Plumber smiles brightly at him, either oblivious to the gunfire splintering the wood closest to her head or simply not caring. “Katherine Plumber, thrilled to officially meet you - we were hoping to hear what you had to say on Joseph Pulitzer’s latest editorial on your-”

Jack shoves a fistful of bullets into his chamber and fires into the fray, following his bullets with his eyes as he wills them to land in the chests of two hulking thugs.

“'-self-serving ego-boosting desecration of our beloved Big Apple’,” Plumber continues – there’s blood on her collar, and Jack’s not quite sure if she hasn’t noticed, or just doesn’t care. “Quote-unquote.”

“You follow me to a shoot-out to ask me that?!”

“Well, David here,” Plumber gestures to her partner, who’s blushing something fierce, as if the only issue he has with this situation is how very embarrassing it is for him, “noted that in all the activity you’ve been involved in-” it’s polite of her to leave out the word ‘criminal’, Jack supposes, “-a civilian has never once been injured. It seems you have a rather protective approach to strangers – does the Tribune’s declaration of you being a quote, ‘guardian of the city’, unquote, hold any weight?”

“It does not.” Jack grits out through a clenched jaw. “And if you wanna know what I think about Joe-” two more rounds, one after the other, ending in two sickening squelches, “-he’s a rattlesnake. His precious Big Apple’s rotten to the core.”

“Is that on the record?” Jacobs pipes up. “Can we use that?”

Plumber claps her hands excitedly.

“Oh, yes-!”

“No!”

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crmsnmth · 29 days

Text

September Sky Chapter One, Part 8

"Fine, Midnight Magenta. Either way, it was bugging me that I'd never seen you around. You're kind of noticeable. With the hair and eyeliner."

I laughed and shrugged. To be honest, I had wondered that myself. How I had gone through my time in college without noticing her? And then, the day I leave, I almost take her out.

"Do you ever go out?" She was looking at me, reading me.

"Yeah, I do. I wander around a lot." I said, smiling back.

"That's weird. So close, yet so far."

"Apparently, I had to just ruin your lunch to make it happen," I smirked.

"Very true, but can we not make that a regular thing?"

She was easy to speak to now. I found myself letting my brain do its thing and not worry about my mouth. It seemed we had the native tongue of sarcasm shared as well. I hadn't felt that comfortable around someone that quickly since Chad.

"I will try my absolute hardest to pay attention to my surroundings," I said, hold one hand up with my pointer and middle fingers raised.

"And?" Addison said with a playful grin.

"I'll try to not to go around ruining people's lunches," I said, laughing slightly.

I hadn't even realized it, but Addison was pulling into one of the limited parking spaces on Center Street. There weren't a lot and it was always a pain to find a spot. We got lucky this time.

She turned off the truck and silence took the airwaves. I said nothing. She said nothing. And it felt natural. Like it belonged. There was no desperate desire to start talking again. It was sitting in silence. We both got out of the truck and she met me on the sidewalk. We had about a half a block to walk, which really isn't all that bad.

"So what are you in school far?" I asked, as we walked along. Across the road, a couple were walking an excited and happy chocolate lab. Cars and trucks drove up and down the road, some turning down side streets.

"You're going to think it's weird," she said. Now the question seemed to have gained some substance. From just an easy getting to know someone question, into something with mystery.

"Look at me, " I waved my hands along my body, "I am weird. I like weird. The weirder the better."

"You make a good point."

"So, seriously, what is it?"

"I'm studying to become a mortician."

"Like a funeral director?" I asked, unsure that I had heard her right.

"Yeah," she said. We were now standing outside the door of The Uptowner, as I finished up a cigarette.

I don't know what I had expected, but it definitely wasn't that. Of course, I thought it was one of the coolest things I've seen in a very long time. It only added to this woman's charm.

"You're quiet. You do think it's weird." Addison said.

"Well, duh. Of course I think it's weird. And I also happen to think that it is extremely fucking cool. "

"Really?" She gave me huge smile, and behind her black framed glasses, her blue eyes opened wide.I tossed the cigarette into a small metal bucket filled with sand, right outside the bar's doors. I beat her to the door, and held it open for her. I followed behind.

The Uptowner is definitely a dive bar. There was no way in hell you could refute that fact. Tables scattered along the floor, a match book, or a folded coaster was under the legs of at least half of them. Along the wall were old church pews that had been carved on and chipped that most of the finish was gone. In the far back sat two pinball machines from the nineties that had seen better days. One even carried a crack along it's glass top. A pool table, with felt that had been ripped and repaired far too many times. Stains covered the field, some of which were not just drinks. The actual bar sat about 13 or 14 people. Addison and I took the two stools closest to the door.

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tloujm · 1 year

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Part XXXIV: Prenatal II

Author’s Notes: Another installment as promised. I hope I’m doing these characters justice with their feelings. Whoever reads, I hope you like it! I’ll try to get another one queued up for next week.

Genre: Heavy Angst with a side of Fluff

Summary: Joel takes his brother’s advice and finds an activity for the two of you to do together. At first, its going well, then the atmosphere turns sour. You finally reveal what’s been bothering you. Joel tries to sympathize with and process your emotions.

Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Joel unloaded the contents of his brown satchel onto the kitchen counter. First, it was the flour, then the sugar and eggs. Lastly, he took out the most important ingredient, a king size chocolate bar. He continued to move around the kitchen to prep the utensils when, as if on cue, you walked through the front door. It didn’t take long for you to follow the noise and find Joel. He turned to face you. An encouraging smile grew on his lips. For once, you didn’t look any more drained than you did when you first left the house. Maybe you were beginning to listen to him and take it easy. Still not at the point he wanted, but baby steps were better than nothing.

Silently, you asked what he was doing. “We’re going to make a cake together.” Joel simply uttered.

“Why?” You replied even more simply.

Joel shrugged. “Why not? I figured it’d be fun.”

“Mr. Texas finds baking fun?” You chuckled. It was dry but he noticed a bit of genuine humor.

“Mr. Texas was craving something sweet,” He tried to give you a subtly lustful look.

“Something sweet, huh?” You raised a brow while supporting your back.

“Mmhmm. And guess what flavor?” You hummed in question. Swiftly, he slid the chocolate bar off the counter and placed it in your hand. He stayed just as close to you and lowered his voice. “I know chocolate is your favorite, plus I heard it was something of an aphrodisiac.”

“Maybe another time, Joel, my back hurts.” You began to move out of the kitchen when he spoke up.

“I can massage it.” He stepped forward, about to ask where exactly it hurt.

“No.” You curtly responded. “Thank you though.”

Joel tried to mask a feeling of defeat until a new idea popped into his head. “Hold on.” He lifted a single finger before running to the living room to get a couple of couch pillows. “Try this.” He positioned them on the wooden kitchen chair before gesturing for you to take a seat. “I figured it would go nicely with the dinner I picked up for us, but there won’t be any cake until we put all of this together. Now, are you comfortable?”

You nodded but knew that he needed to hear it. “Yes.”

“Good. I'll bring the stuff over to you.”

Most of the work was done in silence. You were hard to read. It was not necessarily awkward, but he took the time to observe you regardless. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly in concentration as you read the recipe. Your eyes however looked bored, like you didn’t want to be there. Was it the act of baking or was it him? Joel questioned this over and over again as he continued his attempt to read your mind. He knew it was a fruitless venture and because of this, he was also searching for the right words to break the silence.

Before that could even happen, he accidentally stubbed his toe against the island which caused him to drop the measuring cup of oil all over your shirt. He grunted in pain for a moment before realizing the mess he made. The stain was atop your heavy bump. His eyes raked your body from your middle to your eyes. In that moment, he knew he fucked up. Your eyes turned hard. With a tone of annoyance, you mumbled that it was your favorite shirt and that the stain would never come out. Before he could apologize, you grasped for whatever was closest to you, which was the cup of water and splashed it on his shirt. “Now we’re even.” He looked at you in disbelief. That night could have ended one of two ways: laughing about the accident, or letting it wedge the two of you even further away.

Joel inconspicuously pinched some flour and flicked it on your hair. He knew that was sensitive territory, but wanted to avoid your eyes as well as making the stain worse. “My hair, Joel?” You matched his look of disbelief. If that’s how he wanted it, that’s how he can have it, you thought to yourself. He wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into, so he turned to grab a towel to clean you off with. You got up, one hand cradling your belly and the other reaching out for the carton of eggs. Approaching him from behind, you stood on your tip-toes and smashed the egg on top of his head. His eyes darted upward as he felt the slimy yolk run down his face. He scooped most of it off and threw it in the sink before focusing his attention on you.

The two of you stared at each other, both faces blank until Joel allowed a devious smirk to appear. Your eyes finally moved away from him and he took that moment to retaliate. Just as quickly, you moved around the island to distance yourself from him. Joel knew he could catch you if he really wanted to, pregnancy or not. Still, he enjoyed the game of cat and mouse that the two of you found yourselves in. You grabbed the empty measuring cup and sprinted the best you could to the sink to refill it. Before it even filled half way, Joel reached you with some more flour in his hand. Before he could wind his arm back, you threw the water in his face. The flour littered the floor as his hands pulled his shirt up over his face to dry off. In that time, you went back to the eggs to keep the upper hand. His eyes never left yours. You watched him scramble for items he could use that were within his view. Showing no mercy, you threw another egg at him, but with impressive agility, he managed to dodge it. The two of you watched as it slid down the backsplash.

The two of you continued like this for about a half hour. Almost all of the ingredients that he traded for earlier that day were wasted. Instead of in the form of batter, everything was either on the walls, floor or your bodies. The mess that he knew he’d have to clean up was all worth it because he got to see the biggest smile and hear the hardiest laughter he’s witnessed from you in several weeks. The way your eyes crinkled and your gums showed because of how big your smile grew was an amazing feeling to both you and him. At some point, the two of you mutually agreed to call it quits.

“I think it’s time to get cleaned up.”

“I agree.” You huffed.

“How about a nice hot shower. Or a bath if you want to get off your feet.”

“That sounds nice. I think a shower will be better; I don’t want to sit in a pool of flour and egg residue. If you don’t mind, I’ll go first. I promise I won’t take up all of the hot water this time.” Her eyes didn’t meet yours but she offered up a small, genuine grin.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that if we take it together, darlin’.” He moved closer to you which caused your body to go rigid. “How does that sound? We can have dinner afterwards and the chocolate bar was left untouched, so we can have that for, uh, dessert.” He raised a brow with a lustful yet loving gaze with the hopes of softening your stance.

“Oh, um, now that I think of it, I think a bath will sooth my back. I’ll go up and draw it up, ok?”

“You sure? You can rest and I can—” Joel began to suggest.

“I’m sure.” You turned on your heel and leaned against the railing as you walked up stairs.

Joel took a moment to watch, fighting the urge to help you steady yourself. “I’ll tidy up the kitchen while you do that.”

He let you take your time by cleaning up the entire kitchen. It’d been a while since the two of you shared a bath or shower, but one would always shout for the other that they were ready. After all was done in the kitchen, he’d still not heard from you. He jogged up the stairs to check on you. Pushing the bathroom door open a little bit wider, he found you already in the tub. No waiting for him to undress you or help you into the tub. “Already comfortable?” He really wanted to ask why you didn’t wait for him. You nodded in response. His eyes stayed on you. He noticed that your skin and hair were already clean and came to the conclusion that you even made the time to take a quick shower first.

Not thinking too much of it, he began to undress in front of you just like he’d done plenty of times before. It was never an easy task, ripping your eyes away from your favorite body parts of his. You let them linger while the shirt was over his head, but reverted back to looking down at the bubbles when he was done. His eyes laid back onto you when he was completely done. Without words, you scooched forward to give him room. You watched the water flow back and forth as he settled down behind you with a deep sigh. He noticed how your gaze was fixated on something in front of you.

With a lack of physical intimacy, Joel’s body was excited to be so close to yours. He never pushed you to do anything you didn’t want to, but has made several advances since the last time the two of you made love during your first trimester. He understood that sometimes you just weren’t in the mood from exhaustion or hormonal changes, but couldn’t understand why he was rejected every single time. He was spoiled from years of often being in sync with you physically.

It took a blow to Joel’s ego when he felt the awkward response to his hard on pressing against your lower back. If he could control it, he would, but his body craved you so much. He breathed through the pressure, hoping to slow the continuing flow of blood to his cock. Gingerly, he reached out to graze your shoulders when you swiftly stood up to wrap a towel around yourself.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Joel said almost in a whisper. He didn’t look up until you responded.

“It’s ok.” You finally turned to face him.

“Is it?” Joel asked, holding your gaze. That was a first for him, apologizing for just wanting his wife. It made him feel inadequate. You said nothing before breaking eye contact and leaving him alone in the bathroom.

The persistent pressure from his groin pulled his thoughts away from the fact that you just left him there. He kneaded himself out only to find release as he knew this time the commonly adjoining pleasure would not be there. Now limp, Joel was left feeling defeated again and he was tired of it. Quickly, he cleaned himself up and hopped out the tub. In nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist, he entered your shared bedroom.

You were found sitting on your side of the bed fully clothed. “I miss you.” Joel stated simply. You looked up at him with an air of disappointment. He waited for a response that never came. “Do you miss me?”

“I do…” It sounded like you were going to add a ‘but’. Instead, you struggled to find your next words.

“What did I do?” Joel asked.

“You’ve done everything right.” You began to look down at your hands.

“Everything right?” Joel scoffed. “Which part of those right things made you hate me then, (Y/N)? I repulse you now, so what changed?” His eyes were glassy from thinking about how this conversation was beginning to parallel with the one he had with Sarah’s mom before she left them. This time, his tone was more firm. He didn’t want to intimidate you, but he desperately needed answers or else he truly didn’t know what he was going to do next.

“I hate me! I’m repulsed by me!” You shouted abruptly, pointing at yourself. “I mean look at you,” Your eyes refused to meet Joel’s but settled on his imperfectly perfect toned physique still wet from the bath. “But I don’t even fucking recognize myself anymore.” Joel was admittedly confused by your confession. There was never a point where he stopped thinking of you in the same way, so he couldn’t wrap his mind around why your thoughts were different. Your body was changing to create his child. He couldn’t be more in love with you because of that, but instead you hated yourself? He made a move to step closer. “Don’t!” You stopped him in his tracks with bass in your voice. “I don’t need your pity. You wanted to know, so there it is.” You sniffled. “And also so you know, I miss you desperately and I never wanted you to think otherwise, but how was I supposed to express that I couldn’t possibly fathom so much as standing next to you without feeling bad because I was so disgusted with myself. It hurt me every single time I pushed you away, but…I didn’t want you to get too close and risk seeing what I see. I just wanted to keep it that way until,” You shrugged. “everything was back to normal again.” The sniffles became a stream of tears and whimpers.

Joel’s heart broke right in front of you. “Oh, baby girl…” He didn’t know what else to do other than follow his instinct and reach out again. It was subtle, but he saw how you shifted further away from him and closer to the headboard. He settled for sitting at the foot of the bed. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’ve apologized enough. You never did anything wrong.”

“I was focused on my needs.”

“No you weren’t. You were always focused on mine.”

“And still I didn’t realize.”

You began to whisper. “I should be the sorry one. I’ve treated you so horribly! I don’t deserve you, Joel.”

Joel got up and repositioned the towel before walking up to you. He didn’t care if you moved away; he needed to shut this shit down. The way Joel saw it, he was forever indebted to you for forgiving and loving him despite his lies and other actions. He crouched down and positioned himself between your legs so you would be forced to face him. “You’re breaking my heart, darlin’. I need you to not say things like that, ok?”

You could only imagine how you looked to him from that angle. Probably like a stuffed pig, you thought. “Stop, please.” Turning your head, you recoiled at the thought. Tears flowed out at a faster rate. It left a burning feeling in Joel’s chest as he watched.

“Baby, your body is not meant to be the same. If it was, our baby wouldn’t be able to grow and be healthy. I need you to understand that what is happening is important for them to thrive. I also need you to understand that with every stage of this pregnancy, I’ve loved you even more.”

“I get that but I still hate this. I feel like there’s nothing I can do to change that. Even after I give birth, It’ll never be the same.”

“What won’t?”

“Everything!” Tears began to stream down again. He reached up and you only allowed him to wipe away one before you batted his hand away. On top of all of your emotions, you felt embarrassed for being so shallow despite knowing what your body needed to go through.

He nodded while biting back his own tears. “You’re right; nothing will be exactly the same. There will be big changes in our lives soon, but it’s only going to be for the better; I promise you.” He squeezed your thigh. It took everything in you not to jerk it away. At this point, it was almost instinctual. “There will be things that won’t change though. I’ll find you just as sexy as I do now. Shoot, I might just even more.” He forced a chuckle to see if it’d lighten the mood. It didn’t. After a few beats of silence, he spoke up again. “Baby, I need you to believe me. Please.” His eyes pleaded as they beckoned you to look at him again.

You began crying harder. Immediately, Joel stood up and sat next to you so he could pull you into his embrace. To his surprise, you didn’t resist. You truly missed him. You were tired of pushing him away and just wanted his comfort. “I’m so scared, Joel.”

“It’s ok to feel scared sometimes. Remember I was too. Still am, truth be told.”

“This is different.” You choked on your cries and began to hiccup. “Please don’t hate me.”

“Why would I hate you?” He gripped your chin and tilted it up so you could see the honesty in his eyes. “That will never happen, ok?”

You sat there crying into his shoulder for a solid minute before you finally spoke up. “I don’t feel anything for the baby anymore.” Joel was taken aback. He’s tried to rationalize your words thus far, but now he’s struggling. “I was excited. To create something with you in this way was something I fantasized about for a long time, but sometimes I wonder if it was worth it.”

“Of course it was worth it.” He replied, without missing a beat.

“I’m not ready for this.” You began shaking your head fervently before your words exploded out. “I feel the kicks, but I don’t feel excited anymore. I only rub my belly to ease the pain, not to feel some sort of connection. I feel miserable everyday. I eat like a fucking pig when you’re not around because I’m always starving, but most times I can barely keep any of it down. The fucking nausea was supposed to end months ago! I still work to give myself purpose, but it’s mostly to stay active. I can’t hold shit down yet I look like I’m carrying triplets. I mean, I don’t know what else to do! I can’t go ten minutes without wanting to fucking piss myself! And I haven’t gone without some sort of ache or pain in months. I know all of this whining is nothing compared to what I have to look forward to in a few weeks. Sometimes I wonder what if something happens to the baby and it was all for nothing; my body did all of this for nothing? I’m trying so hard, but...” You hesitated. ”What if I resent the baby when I see them for the first time? We shouldn’t have done this, Joel.”

“Don’t say that, baby. Don’t say that.” Joel held you tight as he gently rocked you back and forth. “I promise you it won’t be like that, you hear me?” He waited a beat longer than he usually did before asking again with a slightly more firm tone. “(Y/N)?”

“I hear you.” You replied. You couldn’t recognize your own voice either as a huge lump was stuck in your throat.

Joel sat there with you for several minutes and during that time, you worked on getting reacquainted with your husband’s touch. Very gently, he maneuvered your body to lay back on your side of the bed. You felt the heat of his body disappear as he got up to turn off all of the lights in the room. With only a new moon out, the room suddenly became pitch black. You felt the bed dip on his side. The indentation deepened as he slid closer to you. Joel ghosted his hand over your belly, an action you have not allowed him to remotely do in months. Because of this, Joel had not been able to bond with his child as much as he wanted. The closest he would get was catching rare glimpses of subtle movement under your baggy shirts. He saw your pregnancy as a second chance; a chance to do things differently. With Sarah’s mom, he was more timid as he was just a teen. Still, he took responsibility and did things like buying his first car so he could drive her to doctor appointments. He was supportive, but was too nervous to initiate any sort of connection with his daughter until she was born.

Little by little, his hand lowered until it reached your taught skin. The feel of his warmth was familiar but something of a shock to the system. He rubbed in one direction under the bump until he felt a kick. It took everything in him to avoid any sudden reactions so as to not harm the progress he made with you. He couldn’t help, however, wanting to experience more; it was almost addicting. Many questions came to the forefront of his mind, some familiar, some new. For a moment, he pretended that it was Sarah. He knew it was a weird notion, one that he would never speak of, but it gave him an immense amount of comfort.

#TLOU #TLOU 2 #The Last of Us 2 #The Last of Us #Joel Miller #TLOU Joel Miller #The Last of Us Joel Miller #TLOU Joel #joel fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

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edupunkn00b · 1 year

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Everyone Leaves, Ch. 4: Virgil

Colorized version of Wolf-in-front-of-Moon, Clément Bucco-Lechat CC 3.0

Prev - Virgil - Next - All - [ AO3 ] - Playlist

Virgil appears and demands to know what Remus has done to Logan. He finds Logan happily sleeping, sprawled over Remus' lap. And a frighteningly happy Remus.

CW: intrusive thoughts, wolf bite, blood, swearing, unreality A continuation of @lost-in-thought-20's incredible story for the @tsspromptmonth 🌸 Spring Cleaning 🌸 event. ---

The door rattled in its frame, chunks of cement from the walls clattering to the floor in a dusty avalanche. “Remus!”

BANG BANG BANG BANG

The wolves whimper in the corner. There’s only one Side his wolves fear.

“Open the fucking door, Remus!” Virgil’s tempest voice shakes his bones but he ignores it. Virgil was all talk. He’s the one who should be afraid. “What’d you do? Impersonate him? Got him tied up in there?”

“Oooo, kinky!” Remus cackles as he waves the door open. “And keep your voice down, Emo,” Logan slept better with the sound of his voice. “The nerd’s finally asleep.” He stares into Virgil’s shadowed eyes, the black smeared with tear tracks. Logan's presence brought company but it also brought light. Dim, but enough to relish in the fear in Virgil's eyes. “Wake him and I’ll spend every night for the next year camped out in your little brain while you try to sleep.”

“Do your worst!” Virgil’s posture stays strong but there’s a warble in his voice and Remus knows his point was made. Anxiety knows better than to take his threats as mere words. “Just put Logan back to normal! Release him from whatever you did and let him go! We need him! Thomas is in a fucking police station getting fingerprinted right now.”

Remus sucks on the tip of his middle finger. “Hmmm… yummy. I always wanted to know what that ink tasted like. Sticky, bitter, kinda like—”

“Shut up!” The tempest voice shakes through his bones and Remus shivers, staring back with green glowing eyes. Virgil takes a deep breath to calm himself. It doesn’t work. “Look, you can have whatever you want, Remus, just let him go so he can fix this!”

“But this is what I want. Right here, in my arms, in my room.” He smiles, mouth stretched wide enough to touch his ears. If he stretched enough, he could even drop his jaw just like Janus used to when he asked.

Back when Janus stayed. Back when Janus gave a fuck.

Virgil’s steps falter and the wolves slink out from under his bed. “See? Even they’re not afraid of you anymore,” Remus reaches out to pet the closest wolf and its ears flatten against the top of its head and it sinks its fangs into his hand.

Remus smiled as he tore his hand from the beast’s mouth. It was then that Logan woke. “Remus?” He blinked, staring into Remus’ eyes.

“Logan, you’re alright!” Virgil dropped to his knees and reached for him. “We need you, we—” The wolves snarled the moment Virgil’s hand grazed Logan’s and he drew back.

Save for a single glance, Logan ignores Virgil and sits up facing Remus. “You are injured,” he frowns and holds out his hand. A large red box appears before him and he opens the case to reveal a perfectly organized first aid kit. He takes out supplies and begins flushing Remus’ wound with sterile saline. Like tears. Remus hissed under his breath, the water sharp and biting the wound.

“Logan? Wha—How did you do that? Only Remus can conjure in his room.”

“Falsehood,” he said without looking up from his ministrations. "I obviously just did and I am not Remus.” Wound irrigated, Logan began blotting his skin with a soft cloth, pristine white and clean like his room had never seen before. He worked silently for a moment, those laser sharp eyes staring at the puncture wounds on Remus’ hand like he fucking dared them to start seeping blood again.

“I will bandage your wound now,” he said, raising his eyes up. Logan looked at him with a softness Remus hadn’t seen since… Fuck Janus. He nodded.

“Do whatcha gotta do, Nerdy Wolverine,” he grinned, a little too widely. What was the worst that could happen? The bite was already starting to burn and throb. Logan’s nursing would only help, even if it hurt like hell while he did it. “I won’t fight you.”

“Yeah, right,” Virgil scoffed. “Be careful, Logan. I’m pretty sure I still have Remus’ teeth marks from that time I tried to get a chunk of glass outta—”

“I will be careful, Remus.” Logan didn’t get that Virgil was warning the nerd against what he would do and just trained those eyes on him, holding still with Remus’ hand twitching in his palm. “Tell me if the bandage grows uncomfortable and I will adjust it.”

Remus nodded, mouth hanging open but nothing would come out. The only other person who could shut him up was Dee and that was with his powers. Even Virgil finally shut up and just watched, all tense and coiled like he expected Remus to attack their resident logician.

After his wounds were hidden under layers of gauze and those little pads you get at the hospital, Logan pressed down on each of his nail beds, Remus watched, too, as tannish pink went white and then quickly returned. “I believe this dressing adequate now. I will need to change your bandage in a few hours to guard against infection.” The nerd looked up and actually smiled. “How does it feel, Remus?”

The wolf who’d bitten him slunk out from the shadows, head hanging low and her tail between her legs. She lay down in front of Logan, whining quietly. “Better, Lo.”

“That is a relief,” Logan murmured and laid one hand on the wolf’s head, instantly turning off that high-pitched whine.

“Okay, so you fixed the nightmare’s hand.” Virgil jumped to his feet and opened the door, eyeing the wolf like it had grown tentacles. That’s an idea. Would they be slimy like her insides, intestines flopping through her pelt and hanging to the floor? Or would they match her fur, like boneless prehensile tails sprouting from her back. With teeth.

Virgil was still at the door, reaching for Logan’s hand. “Come fix this mess with the cops! You belong up there with us.”

Logan stared between them and they all stared up at him, watching the cogs in his brain whir as he tried to decide. Even the wolf knew what was what and she slid her muzzle off his lap and stood between him and Remus.

Remus reaches for Logan. He is not going to let him leave, too. He can do what he should’ve done with Virgil. What he should’ve done with Janus. As soon as he gets close to the wolf, she lets out a low growl and clamps down on his hand, teeth piercing the skin like it’s paper. His blood drips to the floor and Logan’s shadow gets longer as he follows Virgil out to the hallway and—

“I am not leaving.” Logan’s sharp voice popped the vision and Remus stared. The wolf was still curled on his lap, tail swish-swish-swishing against the cracked cement. “Nothing has changed. If I am to return, you must listen to me.” She whined again and Logan nodded, scritching her around the ears like he was a fucking puppy. “And you must listen to Remus. Not…” he raised his other hand, silencing Virgil’s protest faster than Janus ever could. “Not to do everything he says, but to listen. He is half of Thomas’ creativity. Some of his ideas are worth exploring.”

“You’ve fucking lost it, Logan! First Nico and now this?” Virgil shoved both hands in his hoodie pockets. “Fine. We’ll figure it out without you,” he muttered and backed away out of the room.

“If you choose not to see reason, then that is your best course of action,” Logan replied calmly, fingers buried in the wolf’s fur. It looked soft like that, plush and comforting like one of Pattycake’s stuffies. The door slammed and Remus looked up. He hadn’t even seen the Emo leave.

#Everyone Leaves #ts remus #ts janus #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #sanders sides fic #tss promptmonth spring cleaning event #by lost-in-thought-20 and edupunkn00b

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ermanodelgcdo · 7 months

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failed couples therapy

Zack Astor

-enters the council meeting room, slight smirk on his lips- Alright, I'm here. Let's get this thing over with.

David Alexander

-David is already there, his arms crossed and he runs his hand down his face. He can already tell this is gonna be pointless. -

ermano.

-sat at a table with his fingers laced together, ermano sighed- You both are my closest friends. I wish you guys would get along but I understand some people just don’t click. However, whatever the hell is going on between you two needs to stop. So, no one is leaving until shit gets hashed out.

Zack Astor

Well good luck with that 'mano, hope you brought cake and coffee because we'll be sitting here a long time before that happens. -pulls out a chair and sits down; leans back and crosses his arms-

David Alexander

-gives Ermano a pointed look and motions to Zack as he sits in a very I told you so sort of way -

ermano.

We’ve sat in weather hotter than Satan’s asshole for hours. Sitting here to play Daddy to two toddlers is nothing. -ermano stands and moves toward Zack, kicking the leg of his chair.- Get up.

Zack Astor

-stares up at Ermano for a moment, entirely motionless- Why should I?

ermano.

-says nothing as he stares zack down, not blinking-

Zack Astor

-remains seated for a few seconds longer before sighing; gets up and leans against the table- Fucking hell.

ermano.

Thank you. -drags the chair with him, moving it to the middle of the room. he then moves to david, giving him a knowing look-

David Alexander

-David is motionless as he watches Ermano kick Zack out of the chair and move it into the middle of the room. Seeing his look he raises an eyebrow. - What? I already told you my piece.

ermano.

Yeah…. You’re going to hate me for this so I just wanted to say I’m sorry ahead of time. -ermano reached for the chair next to David, moving it to the center of the room in front of Zack’s old chair- I don’t want to hear Jack shit. Both of you, sit.

David Alexander

-David watches how he rearranges the chair and immediately recognizes the set up.- Oh no, no way.

Zack Astor

-pointedly rolls his eyes- Mind explaining what you're trying to do here, pal?

ermano.

I told you no one is leaving ‘til this shit is hashed out. This -he points to the chairs- is to accelerate the process. Now, please sit.

Zack Astor

-raises an eyebrow at Ermano before sighing and grabbing one of the chairs; sits down in the same position, crossing his arms and leaning back-

ermano.

-looks to david, waiting for him to move-

David Alexander

-he outwardly groans before throwing his hand up.- Fine, fine. -he grabs the chair and pulls it a little bit away before sitting down. -

ermano.

Right. Now. Zack - what is it about David that frustrates you? -ermano steps behind David, facing them with his hands behind his back-

Zack Astor

... Really? -hisses out a breath between his teeth- I've been pretty damn open about what annoys me about him.

ermano.

Can the two of you just fucking humor me? -his voice raised, clearly over the situation-

Zack Astor

-stares at Ermano cooly, before relenting- Alright. If you need me to fucking spell it out. He's dogshit at his job.

ermano.

How so? And give specifics, not a ‘just cause’ bullshit response.

David Alexander

-David scoffs and shakes his head but remains silent. -

Zack Astor

Because he has no fucking idea how to handle being a leader. -gestures to David- Do you think this is how a leader acts, 'mano?

ermano.

I ask again, how so? What about his leadership do you find not-so ‘leader’? Giving a blanket statement ain’t doing shit. If David sucks ass as a leader, I - as a leader - need to what needs improving.

Zack Astor

... Do you seriously not see the issue? Like with what he's done since I got here? -runs a hand through his hair- If he were a fucking leader he'd, I don't know, actually damn try to solve the fucking problem. Not huff and puff like a butthurt toddler.

ermano.

-moves to stand behind zack, this time facing david.- Care to weigh in, Davey?

David Alexander

-David has stayed silent the whole time, just chewing on the inside of his lip. He eyeballs Ermano as he comes into view. - Nothing I say he's gonna listen to anyway. He's been here...what, six months? Haven't had any issues with anyone else with how I run the hunters. He comes in thinking he knows what's best but really he's trying to show off. I think my track record speaks for itself - training up Jake, giving archery lessons to folks in town, planning out hunting parties and trips with the least amount of risk... but yeah, sure, Zack here doesn't like being told what to do and I'm the one with problems.

Zack Astor

-scoffs- Wow, you taught people bowhunting, what a great accomplishment as a leader.-puts on his shit eating grin as he eyes David- You're so fucking used to people kissing your ass, aren't you? Everybody respects you and you've started to expect that of them. And the moment somebody doesn't fucking do it - bam, you go crying to Ermano and he needs to hold your hand while you do your job. -leans forward on his chair- And if you think I'm doing this to show off, well, pal. Then you haven't been listening to a damn thing I've been saying.

ermano.

-takes a few steps back to give them space. he knew isaac was right, maybe they needed to let it all out before any progress could be made. ermano also knew renee would be pissed if they show up at the clinic all banged up, but he’s take the tongue lashing if needed-

David Alexander

-David just glares at him - I know how to work as part of a team. And from what I've seen, you haven't shown that you can.

Zack Astor

Clearly you do. That's why we're here now, huh? -let's out a chuckle as he shakes his head- Do you think I got to lead my wolves for as long as I did because I'm a shit teamplayer David? Do you really think that's the issue?

David Alexander

No, the reason we're here is because you have an attitude problem. -he leans forward in his chair, his arms resting on his legs- You want to know what I think? I think you can't handle not being in charge of something. You think because you were some big hot shot out there that it automatically gives you the right to do whatever the hell it is you want here. Everyone here started out low on the totem pole, same as you, and they've earned their spots here. So far, you've earned jack shit in my book. All I see is a spoiled kid who is throwing a tantrum because they don't like being told what to do. -he stands up and looks to Ermano- This is going nowhere, man.

ermano.

On the contrary, I think its going great. Sit down. -he moved his arms from behind his back to folded across his chest- I don’t care what yall do to figure shit out, but it’s happening. Whether it’s couples counseling or a boxing match, the two of you need to figure it out not for yourself, but for the community.

David Alexander

-David gives Ermano a pointed look before running his hand down his face and sitting back down. He's leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, clearly over this whole thing-

Zack Astor

-leans back on his chair, grin on his face- And you can't even handle a guy with an attitude problem on your own without Ermano's help. Pal, that says a lot more about you than it does about me. -chuckles- I know what earning my place means. Do you, David? Because I think the only reason you're headhunter is 'cause you're Ermano's pal.

ermano.

You talk as if you’re not mine, too. As if we haven’t been through shit.

Zack Astor

I'm yours, 'mano, but that shouldn't mean jack when it comes to doing your job.

David Alexander

You think that's the first time I've heard that shit before? You ain't the first and you sure as hell won't be the last. I don't got to explain to you how I earned my spot. And I'm not handing over my position any time soon so best get used to it, Astor.

Zack Astor

Maybe that not being the first time should get you thinking, David. Sounds like people are onto something. -shrugs- Let's be honest David, you haven't done shit to earn this aside from making lovey eyes at 'mano. And you know it. That's why you get all huffy. Cause I'm fucking right.

ermano.

-rolls his eyes- Leave me the fuck out of this.

David Alexander

No, Zack, those are the words of jealous children who are mad they didn't get chosen first for the football team. And for the record, Ermano didn't put me in my position - the Council did. So you want to try again or you want to keep making a fool out of yourself by spouting things you know nothing about?

Zack Astor

Oh boy. It just isn't clicking, is it. -stares him down- Having four people say you should be a leader doesn't make you a leader, David. Doesn't mean you earned it. Teaching people how to bowhunt makes you a teacher. Planning hunting parties makes you a strategist. But the moment one of your hunters doesn't suck you sloppy and gives you any sort of challenge you buckle. You don't get the respect you think you deserve and you don't know how to handle it. How the fuck did someone like you even manage to get past the drill seargents?

David Alexander

I -David laughs in disbelief. His head is shaking and his hand runs down his face. This is just ridiculous at this point. He looks to Ermano and points to Zack with one of his hands- You see what I mean? It just never ends. We're going to keep going round and round in a fucking circle. Let me tell ya something, Zack, the Council put me in charge because from the moment I came here and provided game for the whole town, they noticed what I did. They noticed how I mentored the other hunters, how I trained them, how I was willing to step up whenever something needed to be done and how effectively I could come up with a plan, execute it and provide results. Those, Zack, are all signs of a good fucking leader. If you don't like it, tough shit. -he doesn't care if Ermano thinks they're done because David sure as shit is and he stands back up- The way I see it, you got two options - either you suck it up and deal with the fact that whether you like it or not, I'm still head hunter and we figure out how to work together or you find another job around town. I'm fine with either. -he looks to Ermano before walking towards the door.-

Zack Astor

-stays seated, doesn't even look after David as he begins to leave- Throwing a hissy fit and running away proves my point, David. Just shows you haven't been actually taking in a damn thing I've been saying. -yawns, casting a glance at his watch- Go and lick your wounds, David. Go cry to mama.

ermano.

He has a point, David. -ermano calls out, pinching the bridge of his nose.- For fuck’s sake. The two of you need to stop being fucking kids and compromise. If anything happens outside the walls because you both can’t play nice, I’ll have both of your asses, biter or not. This community can’t handle losing more people.

David Alexander

-David stops, biting his tongue as he turns around with his arms crossed.- What else am I supposed to say, 'Mano? Every thing I say is not good enough. I'm willing to figure out how to work it out but he's the one that's gotta let go of whatever bullshit he's got so we can have a productive conversation. So far, none of this has been productive. It's just been another fucking piss match and I'm over it.

Zack Astor

Just say you haven't been listening, David. We both know it. -runs a hand through his hair as he puts his feet up on the chair David left- I laid out pretty damn clear what my problem is. And with everything you've been saying you've just proven my damn point. Someone's got an overinflated ego, and it ain't me pal. -closes his eyes as if he were going to fall asleep- Pointless to tell you shit when it's like I'm talking to an angry brick wall.

ermano.

Now that we got why you hate each other, solutions. Any solutions? Any compromising?

Zack Astor

With all due respect Ermano, this isn't shit to compromise on. This isn't "I just hate his guts" or some shit. He ain't a good leader. He knows how to teach, strategize and he's a hard worker but after, what, two years? - he has no idea how to handle people. That's his fucking problem.

David Alexander

-grits his teeth- I have been listening. Obviously you haven't. -David looks to Ermano with a shrug- I don't mind finding a middle ground and figuring out how we can make this work. But as you can see, he's not budging. There is no constructive conversation to fix this. Whenever he's ready to find that middle ground, I'm more than happy to listen. -he points that directly at Zack as if proof that he's not the one having issues with handling people-

Zack Astor

Yeah, after the fifth variation of "you got a superiority complex" I tend to tune out. -grins as he rises back up to his feet, slowly makes his way over to David- The only reason anybody thinks you're a great leader is 'cause nobody had the balls to challenge you. It's like you're a dog herding sheep. They just follow you. But once someone kicks out at you - you go whimpering and crying to your owners. -stops right in front of David, looking down at him- You ain't no goddamn leader David. And you never fucking will be.

David Alexander

-if Zack is trying to intimidate him, it's not working. And if he's trying to get him to punch him, it's not working either. He doesn't cower, doesn't stand down, he just stares at him. And once he's done talking, he leans in- I'm sorry you feel that way, Zack. But at least I'm the willing to come to the table. You're the one stomping and throwing a fit because you can't bully me into giving you what you want. Like I said, when you're ready to have a conversation and stop hurling insult after insult, my door is always open. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two yourself.

Zack Astor

Well, can't say I haven't tried. As I said - you know shit about hunting, but you got no fucking clue about people. I ain't the one who needs to take a long good look at himself in the mirror. -he shrugs, looking not particularly bothered as he pushes past David to open the door- I'm retiring from the hunters. I know David isn't gonna be able to get over his cracked ego and let me do my job unless I suck his dick and thank him for it, and that's a fucking waste. Community shouldn't suffer just 'cause David here can't handle some insults. I'm gonna go ask Isaac for a raider position.

ermano.

-he sighs before taking a seat in one of the chairs. arms still folded across his chest, ermano shakes his head and whispers- Dios, tan cansado. -next he says out loud- Do whatever you want to do, Zack. No one's gonna stop you.

David Alexander

-David rocks as Zack pushes past him but doesn't stumble. He looks over at Ermano and shrugs before walking over to him and sits down across from him- He'll do great with them. Isaac is gonna love it.

ermano.

I have no doubt about that.

David Alexander

-David shrugs as he leans back in his chair- At least we tried, right?

@davxdalexander @zackastor

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