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#yup I decided to make a part 2 of this
winnie-the-monster · 7 months
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Tao: He’s straight Charlie. Like you only need to glance at him to know he’s a massive heterosexual.
Elle: Nick Nelson. You might as well give up right now, he’s the straightest person I’ve ever seen.”
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Nick: I’m Bi, actually.
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shlonguru · 3 months
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Can we get one of Alastor fucking you in his radio booth and broadcasting it to fuck with Vox~ pretty please with a cherry on top💕
God thank you so much for your request and this idea, it really inspired me so much and I might do even more with this cause I find it inherently hot hehe. I'm so happy so many people enjoyed the first part of Alastor x Fem!Reader x Vox and I'm a degenerate so I wrote a second. I hope you guys like it too! Enjoy my fellow degenerates! o/
I would also like to thank @wipmoop for their amazing art cover for this smut! They're truly the best you can check them out !
And with this, I present you, drumroll please :
Alastor X Fem!Reader X Vox 2 - Rematch !
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Summary : You're tired of waiting for your rematch and decide to take things into your own hands. Are you ready to face the consequences of your actions ?
Warning : 18+, Smut, dirty talking, oral, oral creampie, creampie, threesome, cum swallowing, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, rough, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bondage, spanking.
Word Count : 4883 words (Yup, it's worse than the first one.)
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After the events of the party Alastor brought you back to the hotel, explaining to Charlie that you might’ve hmm…had more than you could handle. She was delighted at the idea of you residing at the hotel and extended an unlimited invitation to you. You had your own room and actually enjoyed the people there more than you thought you would. You thought you’d give redemption a shot. However, you had been dreaming of your rematch with Vox and Alastor and it occupied most of your daily thoughts, as much as you hated to admit it.
It had been 2 weeks since you moved in and you hadn’t really been seeing Alastor since the party, he was a busy man after all, he was usually very polite when he saw you and would give you a hand kiss or wink at you. You hadn’t seen Vox at all since the party, but it wasn’t too surprising. Slowly, you started realizing that you were okay with what happened being a one-off thing.
This day you had just finished exercises with everyone and was chilling having some tea when Charlie exclaimed: “Oh Alastor is hosting his radio show! We should bring him some tea! Where’s Niffty? She’d be super-fast.” She looked around unable to find her.”
“She was chasing a family of roaches last time I saw her.” You explained drinking your tea. “I can bring him if you want.” You offered, not thinking much of it, but knowing the idea of seeing Alastor brought a slight smile to your face.
“Really?” Asked Charlie with sparks in her eyes. “That is such a selfless act I love it!”
“Is it?” You questioned. She nodded furiously before handing you a tray with a cup of tea, some milk, sugar, and some biscuits on it.
You left the group and started making your way to the radio tower. As you approached it you heard the demon speaking into his mic.
“And that my fellows, is why you should never trust a demon whose name starts with a V. I will return in a moment, enjoy this musical break of electro swing.”
You arrived in front of the door and knocked.
“Come in.” You heard.
You entered the room to find Alastor sitting in front of his station, his legs crossed.
“Oh, Hello Dear!” He exclaimed seeing it was you at the door.
“Hi! Charlie asked me to bring you some tea. How’s your show going?” You smiled as you entered the room. Alastor looked at you intensely as you walked past him, his smile as wide as ever, you could feel his gaze on your body, you were wearing a short red dress hugging your shape and flared at the bottom and a pair of black thigh highs. You sat the tray on the coffee table he had next to him and poured him a cup of tea.
“The show is going as well as it needs to be.” He replied coldly, pausing afterwards. “But more importantly, this dress suits you very well, I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since that night at the party.” He proclaimed calmly.
Your face flushed lightly and he noticed. He hadn’t talked about the party since that night and the simple mention of it sent back embarrassing flashbacks to your mind. Not that you regretted it.
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed. This is more casual though.” You replied, not looking him in the eyes.
“Is it now Dear?” Asked the demon searching for your gaze then looking you from the bottom up.
“I'm glad you like it." You teased then presented the cup in front of him and thought you noticed a quick glance at your cleavage.
This was enough for you to decide that you had done progress at the hotel and that meant you deserved a little reward, and if you were honest with yourself, you had missed Alastor and Vox’s touch since that night, after all, they had given you a night you could never forget as promised. You had been a good girl but now it was time to drop the act.
You lingered giving him a good look. You then asked innocently: “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He took a good look at you, almost as if he was trying to gauge your intentions. “Actually, I do, would you grab me the mic from the shelf over there.”
“Sure!” You replied smiling. You made your way to the shelf and pretended to struggle to grab the mic which fell to the floor and rolled under the shelf. You then got on all fours and bent over trying to grab it, almost exposing your parts. After grabbing it you stood back up and turned around only to be met with Alastor smiling widely, leaning on the counter of his studio.
“Are you doing okay, Dear?” He grinned tauntingly before taking a sip.
“I don’t know, am I? Here’s your mic.” You handed him the mic. He put down his cup of tea and grabbed the mic slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. He then proceeded to pull swiftly on it, bringing you with it as you hadn’t let go yet. Your body ended up pressed against his.
“You know if you had been craving my attention this badly you should have mentioned it sooner.” He exclaimed looking deep into your eyes.
“Did I crave your attention, or did you miss giving it to me?” You asked smugly smirking back.
“Oh, I can give it to you alright.” He smiled wider, his mouth an inch from yours.
“Do it then.” You smiled back, holding the fold of his jacket.
You felt his lips crash onto yours, the both of you dropping the mic simultaneously. He grabbed your hips tightly pulling you into the kiss, kissing you even deeper as he moved one hand behind your neck. He then lowered his hands to your ass before grabbing both of your cheeks tightly, pulling you off the ground, you legs locking around him instinctively. He turned around, still kissing you while holding your weightless body and sat you on the edge of the counter of his studio. He grabbed both of your wrists and laid you on your back, pinning your hands above your head. He then proceeded to kiss down your neck and onto your cleavage.
“Coming here dressed this way was your mistake.” He smirked.
“Debatable.” You smirked back.
He kept both of your hands pinned together with one of his and took a good look of your flushed, panting, and eager body. While scanning down your body he noticed something that made his eyes widen slightly before he went back to looking into your eyes with a devious smile. His second hand travelled down your body making you realize how sensitive you felt already.
“You might not have missed my attention but this part of you certainly has.” His hand then rubbed against your womanhood, making you realize just how soaked you were already as you squirmed.
“Listen Dear,” he looked at you, still rubbing your pussy, “I’m going to let go of your hands, but you may not touch anything but yourself with them.” He then let go of your hands and pussy before bending over you, resting both of his hands on each side of your head.
“Understood?” He menacingly whispered with a very serious grin.
You nodded.
“Good girl. And be sure to make all of hell know how good you’re feeling.” He smiled before removing his jacket which he threw on his couch.
“Wha-“ You were about to question but then saw him casually turn on the mic of his station. The sign [On Air] turning bright red confirming what you thought.
Alastor then proceeded to kneel in front of you and pull you closer, to the edge of the counter, he then ripped your panties in one movement and started digging in.
You immediately felt his tongue dig deep inside of you, earning a loud moan out of you as he spread your walls. The moans kept pouring as he enthusiastically ate you out, alternating between the inside and the outside of your pussy that he was eating like the first meal he’d had in days. He kept moving his tongue in motions that sent jolts up and down your body.
Before you realized, your hands had made their way into Alastor’s hair, pulling slightly as the pleasure intensified. You only noticed when the pleasure stopped. You looked down, confused, and immediately realized your mistake, letting go of his hair, as the tall demon stood back on his feet, looking at you calmly, which somehow made it scarier.
“Didn’t we agree on you touching nothing but yourself? See not only have you not touched yourself, but you’ve also touched me, and I am not part of you, yet.” He said menacingly.
“Sorry…” You muttered.
“Too late Darling, I’m afraid bad girls need to be disciplined.”
You stared at him as you witnessed him calmly removing his bowtie then grabbing both of your wrists once again, this time tying them together, in a very tight fashion.
“Good.” He exclaimed proud of his work.
And with that he resumed eating you out, this time more aggressively. You felt your walls tighten as he attacked them relentlessly, grabbing your thighs with both of his hands. Your moans were getting louder and louder as his name poured continuously out of your mouth until you felt the knot that had been building up break and the orgasm wash over your body, making your legs shake in the process.
“Holy shit…” You blurted, panting hard as you watched Alastor stand up and give you a quick kiss.
“See, you know how to be a good girl.” He whispered in your ear before licking your ear lobe. You felt his throbbing crotch press against yours.
Before any of you could add anything, you saw a glowing blue circle draw itself around the both of you.
“What is th-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence as you felt yourself fall down through what had now obviously been a portal. The radio demon fell with you, though in a much classier and composed manner, almost as if he knew it was coming.
You felt yourself land on something soft and looked around. It was a very large bed. Alastor had landed comfortably on his feet next to the bed.
“Took him long enough…” He huffed.
You scanned the room; it was very large and luxurious, like a palace. It was a giant bedroom with huge French windows, and tall wooden doors at its entrance. As soon as you laid your eyes on said doors they opened violently.
“The fuck is wrong with you !?” Yelled the handsome tall demon entering the room. It was a very furious Vox. Seeing him furious made you immediately crave him.
“Well, hello to you too.” Smiled Alastor, still in the same relaxed position.
“Why would you broadcast her for all of hell to listen to? Have you lost your mind?” He screamed unable to compose himself.
“I only did so long enough for you to notice.” He mentioned “And if you were so bothered by it, then maybe you should have noticed sooner.” He smiled wider.
“What a dumbass.” Vox walked past Alastor and arrived in front of you. He smiled for the first time.
“Long time no see y/n !” He leaned in front of you making you blush as you took a good look at his handsome figure.
“Hi Vox! I’ve missed you!” You smiled with your face still flushed from your orgasm. He held your chin up gently.
“Fuck I really missed that hot face of yours, I’m sorry you were stuck with such an ungrateful prick for so long, I knew you should’ve moved into my place instead. You’ve clearly gone way too long without getting some well-deserved action, which would have never happened here by the way.” He said that last part louder on purpose. He looked down for a second. “Dear, you are making my sheets wet already, did you really miss me that much?” He smiled looking at your exposed parts, dripping onto the bed.
“We could have settled on a date to have our rematch instead of you exposing her to every lowlife that would listen.” He turned to Alastor.
“Our dear friend couldn’t wait any longer and well I guess I had to take matters into my own hands.” He said innocently.
“You’re such a piece of shit.” Proclaimed Vox with a wide grin on his face, briefly glitching. “I see you’re unable to try and beat me without a head start you radio bastard.”
“It’s not like I was doing anything you could do anyways, Mr. Flat-screen-no-tongue.” The redhead smirked.
“Oh really?” He glitched lightly. “Sit back, relax and shut the fuck up.”
He turned to you, and away from Alastor.
“Y/n! Time to get that rematch baby! Get your ass on the edge of that bed and spread those legs for me!”
Your body moved on its own at this command, and you managed to sit up at the edge of the bed despite your wrists still tied together and sat with your thighs spread open, revealing your most intimate part which couldn’t lie about how much you wanted this. Vox looked at you intensely, taking in the sight he had missed more than he thought he had and bent over resting one hand on his knee, the other holding the bowtie tying your wrists together with a finger.
“Has someone been a bad girl~?” He teased.
“That’s entirely possible.” You smirked back. You could tell from his face he liked that. He let go of your wrists and grabbed both of your thighs tightly, making you lose your balance and fall back onto the bed. The next instant, you sensed something that felt like a tongue slide inside your pussy. It sent immediate literal jolts up your body, earning a loud moan out of you that surprised even you. You came a little from that but didnt say anything, you moved your head, looking at what was going on down there and saw a big blue tongue, sliding out of Vox’s screen and eating out your deepest parts.
“Oh wow!” You exclaimed not knowing what to make of the mix of intense pleasure, surprise and shock you were feeling. A quick glance behind Vox and you saw Alastor roll his eyes unbothered having a cup of tea on the sofa not too far. You didn’t have time to really process anything as the TV demon kept eating you out aggressively, making your orgasm come sooner than you would have expected. You had absolutely no control over how fast it was building up, you just felt it snap and felt yourself come, arching your back embracing the wave of pleasure, grabbing your dress tightly as you did so.
You felt the tongue pull out of you and giving your whole pussy a good lick before Vox stood back up, wiping his face with a satisfied look on his it.
“Fuck you’re so hot when you come.” He blurted trying to keep his composure, but you could already see his member throbbing through his pants.
“Are you done with your ridiculous endeavor? An attempt to prove what exactly?” Exclaimed Alastor in a tone he tried to portray as nonchalant, but everyone else could tell he was ticked off. “Can’t you see she comes so easily you could barely even consider it a challenge.”
That statement pissed you off because as much as you were enjoying yourself you didn’t like being underestimated.
“I had no idea my enjoying myself would make you this insecure?” You responded smirking in your brattiest tone.
“Oh, I like you more and more.” Said Vox raising his brows and smiling at you.
You could swear you noticed an eye twitch on Alastor.
“You brat…clearly if you’re still feeling this confident then we haven’t gone hard enough on you.” He declared with a wicked smile scaring you as much as it turned you on. Alastor teleported onto the bed next to you, grabbed your hair firmly into a ponytail and pulled you further into the large bed, leaving you no choice but to follow him on your knees before pulling your face close to his. Your tied hands were hanging down in front of you as you looked up at the radio demon. “I guess we’ll have to fix that.” He kissed you deeply shoving his tongue in your mouth making your head spin. He pulled away from the kiss for a second.
“Sorry Dear, I am but a terrible spectator.” He went back into the kiss making you dizzy as he pulled down the top of your dress making your breasts bounce out of it. He grabbed one of your tit with his free hand, pinching your nipple and making you whine softly.
"Now you’re going to use all that confidence you were so proud of just seconds ago and you’re going to take it all in.” He let go of you and you fell on all fours, now facing his crotch. You took a good look and immediately noticed how tight his pants looked around his cock, it almost looked painful. With your tied wrists you unzipped his pants, pulling out your reward.
‘Was it this big last time?’ you thought to yourself. A slight look of surprise covering your face for a brief instant.
“Yes, it was.” Replied the radio demon, as if he had read your mind. “You were just too eager to notice.” He finished. You blushed heavily before giving your best shot at taking as much of his member as you could in your mouth, it amounted to about 2/3 of his manhood.
“Not quite, Dear, here, let me give you a hand.” He chuckled before shoving your face down his member, lodging it all the way down your throat. You couldn’t breathe but it still felt good, you pussy was quivering and dripping, and Vox noticed.
“Damn, look at your cunt, don’t worry I gotchu.” You heard Vox who was right behind you and the moment after felt him give your ass a hard spank. That made you moan loudly, and you knew Alastor felt it when you heard a groan coming from him, you looked up only to be met with an intense and serious gaze filled with lust coming from the radio demon. His hands were both in your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, enjoying himself.
Vox stood right behind you, and you heard his pants unzip. Immediately after, you felt one of his hands rest on your hips and the tip of his cock rub against your entrance teasingly.
“Have you missed that?” He asked, lust exuding off his tone. After a few seconds of his teasing, you wanted to beg for him to insert it but you mouth was too full for that.
“Come on…” He teased, knowing he put you in an impossible position.
In one motion you pulled your mouth off Alastor’s cock and pleaded loudly. “Vox please I need your cock in me!” You looked at him with a lewd look on your face .
Seeing you in that state made him blush briefly before he composed himself again.
“Fucking finally! You’re so fucking hot!” He groaned loudly pushing all of him inside of you in one go making you scream of pleasure in the process. You immediately felt Alastor grab your hair in the same fashion he had moments ago, pulling your face close and squinting.
“Let’s not get distracted now, shall we?” He demanded sternly.
Vox felt you tighten around him as you heard those words, pulling an involuntary moan out of him.
“You naughty girl, you’re loving this aren’t you?” He spanked roughly you before starting to thrust at a rather fast pace.
“Obviously.” Declared Alastor smiling before shoving your face back onto his cock. He was the one thrusting now, in fact, they both were and soon enough, you felt that coil build up once again in your insides. Your eyes rolled back as you felt the knot snap.
Vox felt you tighten almost uncomfortably around his member as you came. He grabbed both of our ass cheeks tightly.
“That’s right, come for me!” He groaned throwing his head back and fucking you through your climax, holding your ass tightly then spanking it.
You had just finished coming when you felt Alastor pull out of your mouth. You exhaled loudly catching your breath.
“Good job not suffocating, here’s your reward.” Said Alastor grabbing your panting figure, pulling you off Vox and propping you onto his cock as he stood on his knees, you were still panting but it was now intertwined with moans as he effortlessly moved you up and down his member. You moved your tied up wrists over his head, wrapping your arms around his neck and grabbing it gently, you kissed him softly yet longingly as the moans continuously flooded out of your mouth. You felt his member grow thicker inside of you, as expressed by your moans becoming louder. Your kiss was interrupted by the TV overlord who grabbed your chin, turning your face away from the radio demon.
“Now you can’t just give all your holes away so easily my dear.” He said calmly standing bent over next to you.
“My apologies.” You replied looking up into his eyes.
“You’re forgiven.” He added with a smooth voice before you felt his lips meet yours. You were surprised at how soft they felt, and you had just found out he could do such a thing. He probably didn’t do it every day, but he was such a good kisser, you were dazzled by the kiss before he pulled out of it.
“Now open up dove, we’re not done just yet.” He grinned.
He hadn’t finished his sentence that you had opened your mouth, eagerly awaiting him.
“My god you’re such a good little slut.” He laughed not able to contain himself any longer, he pushed himself deep into your mouth and moaned loudly as he did so, you started moving your head swallowing his member to the base each time.
You hadn’t noticed because of how gradual it had been, but Alastor was now moving much faster than how he had started, hitting your deepest parts each time.
“Are you going to come again and prove me right?” Alastor smirked at you, pausing his thrusting for a moment and spanking your ass roughly. You moaned loudly around Vox’s cock and stopped moving as he immediately grabbed your head and kept the thrusting going.
“Nuh uh, you can’t stop yet.” The TV demon said as he kept pumping in and out of your mouth.
You looked at Alastor from the corner of your eye.
“What is it sweetheart? The TV got your tongue?” He spanked you again this time harder. Your pussy tightened around him, and he felt it, making his grin widen even more.
You looked at him trying your hardest to stay in control.
“Aww you still think you can decide whether you come or not. How adorable…I guess it’s time I teach you this lesson.” He squinted his eyes challengingly before he spanked you one last time, harder than all the other time, this time immediately grabbing both of your ass cheeks very firmly, not breaking eye contact with you.
“I…” He slammed you against his cock. “…decide…” He slammed harder. “…if…” He slammed even harder, digging his nails into your ass. “…and when…” He slammed hard and you felt yourself dangerously close to the edge. “…you come!” He grinned, slamming one last time harder than you had ever felt him thrust in you and he saw your eyes roll back as your pussy started pulsating around his cock. You moaned loudly around Vox’s cock, who pulled out just in time to hear it aloud. You were panting hard, your whole body going limp.
Vox grabbed your face and pressed your cheeks together bringing his face close to yours. “You’ll relax soon enough bitch, but we’re not done yet.” He then proceeded to grab you off Alastor and prop you once again on all fours. You were wobbly at best. “Come on are you already exhausted? After all this big talk?” He spanked you now red ass making you whine. You moaned softly and looked at him with pleading eyes. Your legs felt weak from all this thrusting and climaxing, and he could tell. He let out a soft sigh.
“Here. Let me give you a hand.” He grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder. “Now you’re going to take it like a good girl?” He looked at you his eyes focusing intensely on you.
“Yes, Sir.” You pleaded. As soon as he heard those words coming out of your mouth he felt an irrepressible urge to take you and you felt all of him enter you once more, at this point your pussy being overstimulated felt so sensitive everything felt ten times more intense. You moaned loudly while your tongue hung out of your mouth, and you gripped the sheets tightly as Vox started thrusting more roughly than he previously had.
Alastor, seeing your tongue hanging and your mouth open, took this opportunity to push himself inside your mouth and started thrusting.
“Enjoy your own taste dear, because you’re about to taste me.” He declared with a sadistic gaze on his now flushed face. You loved seeing the evolution of his boldness as lust took over.
“Shit you’re so fucking tight!” Vox thrusted hard, gritting his teeth, and digging his nails into your thigh, pulling it close against his chest as he lost himself in pleasure, his movement becoming more erratic as he glitched and he brought himself closer to the final release, nevertheless, he never failed to hit your G-spot with each thrust. You felt it coming, despite your best efforts, they both felt you tense up more and more. You still did a great job wrapping your tongue around the radio demon’s shaft, you heard his breath get shakier as he maintained composure fucking your mouth, one hand under your chin and the other in your hair.
You felt the knot about to snap as you hear them both declare as one:
“Are you ready?”
They both thrusted deep in you one last time, releasing simultaneously, filling you up from both sides as you came one last time, almost seeing stars at this point.
Alastor let out the closest thing to a moan as he emptied himself directly down your throat tightening around his member, slowly pulling himself out afterwards and enjoying the sight of your dazed expression.
“Good job.” He patted your cheek smiling and slightly panting, much more relaxed than a few moments ago.
Vox pulled out next and you immediately collapsed onto the bed, cum flowing out of you.
“Holy shit you felt so fucking good!” Vox also felt all sorts of dizzy after his orgasm. He quickly got a grip and they both grabbed what was necessary to clean you up, laying you down comfortably after Alastor removed his bowtie from your sore wrists and Vox handed you one of his shirts to wear.
You were fast asleep and woke up probably a few hours later to both of them having tea in the corner of the room.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, you can’t talk your way into being better in bed, she literally blacked out after I made her come, that’s how good it was.” Expressed Vox with frustration.
“Maybe that or you were just so boring she fell asleep.” Replied Alastor calmly sipping his tea.
“Fuck off, weren’t you facefucking her as well? Wouldn’t that make you boring by extension?” He proclaimed, anger taking over his tone.
Alastor ignored him. You moved in the bed making it creak and earning their attention.
“Oh, looks like our friend has finally awaken from her great slumber.” Announced the radio demon.
They both arrived by your side as you fully came to.
“Hello beautiful.” Exclaimed Vox, with his usual smile and composure. “How are we doing?”
“Well!” You replied attempting to stretch then realizing how sore your whole body felt. “Never mind.” You added.
They both smiled with a satisfied look on their face, almost as if admiring their work.
“Yeah, you need to rest. Next time try not to bite off more than you can chew sweetheart.” Declared Vox with Alastor nodding approvingly next to him.
“Any idea who performed best this time Dear?” Asked the radio demon.
“I mean, it’s hard to give you an answer when you both do whatever you want at all times.” You said with a hint of frustration. “Maybe if you both stuck to one hole, I would be able to tell.” You added, genuinely trying to recall all the events in the right order.
“Hmm, No.”
“Nope.” They both proclaimed simultaneously.
“We will, however, keep fucking you until you give us an answer.” Gloated Vox with a hint of excitement in his voice.
“I’m afraid it’s the only way.” Added Alastor calmly.
“Fair.” You conceded.
‘Holy shit what did I get myself into…’ You thought to yourself.
“Now, rest my dear, you’re going to need it.” Said Vox still smiling at you before vanishing into electricity out of the room.
“I’ll see you soon Darling.” Declared Alastor before smiling and disappearing into a shadow.
To be continued...
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Vox is genuinely so effortless to write. I love how versatile he can be, Alastor on the other hand is rough -.- but once I'm done I can fully appreciate it.
PS : I know Alastor is Aroace and I hope no one takes offense to my work. I genuinely take pleasure in writing smuts and I've been loving his personality that's all.
Peace out ! o/
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l13 · 10 months
Text
♡miguel x reader x peter♡
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a part 2 to this drabble
word count: around 3,1k
WARNINGS : NSFW 18+ ONLY, NO use of y/n, f!reader, voyeurism, cheating (peter on mj), HINTS on miguel x peter but nothing actually happens, blowjob (m receiving), masturbation, making out, swearing, spitting?(not really, YOU'LL SEE OK), miguel loves humiliating peter, miguel gets jealous and territorial very easily, lazy writing, also my first time writing anything close to a threesome so please be kind
a/n: SO SORRY this took so fucking long but I hope that y'all will still enjoy reading it<3
English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.
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“Fuck, shit, fuck” Peter struggles to pull his pants back up as he turns around swiftly, a hand securely holding on to the front of his sweats as he gulps nervously “Miguel, my man! Fancy seeing you here… look, it’s not what it-”
“Cut the shit, Peter.” Miguel says with crossed arms, “At least have the balls to face the consequences of your… perversions.” he would have looked intimidating if it weren’t for his disheveled look–hair messy, chest rising and falling rapidly (who's he kidding, peter was still scared shitless).
“Wh-huh? I- no, you got it wrong-haha! That’s funny, though! Look- I’m just gonna go-”
“You’re gonna stay where you are.”
“Yup, staying right here.” Peter purses his lips, and he really hopes the outline of his bulge isn't that visible. (it was)
Miguel rolls his eyes, turning around and caressing your cheek as he whispers something against your ear. Peter tries to crane his neck to catch a clearer picture of you despite himself, but with that hunk of a man in front of you, it was a lost call. 
You were nervous. Understandably so. Miguel’s words, when you were too busy cumming around his cock merely minutes ago, echoed in your head.
“Yeah, baby?S good, right? So perfect for me baby, fuck. Seems like you got what you wanted after all.” you had furrowed your eyebrows, confused, barely able to keep your eyes open, but when Miguel pointed his thumb at a nearby monitor with the camera surveillance of the place shining bright, with a figure right in the middle, you'd understood what he meant. And you'd liked it.
You cock your head to the side now, as you come to stand next to Miguel, grinning bashfully at Peter, who was looking at you with a gaping mouth. You’d laugh at the way he failed to cover his bulge with his hand, but you were too nervous to do so, so you decided to ignore the act altogether, even if it made your insides flip, “Hi, Peter.”
Jesus Christ, your voice. “Yellow-he-Hi!” Peter’s mouth was so dry, he doesn’t know how he managed to reply. Was after-sex-glow a thing? Because, fuck, you were glowing. There was this flush covering your cheeks and Peter thinks he wants to kiss you all over. Without even realizing it, his feet begin taking him over to you two. But not even a step in, and he’s very rudely interrupted.
“What are you doing?” Miguel’s tone is calm, and yet gives Peter an eerie sensation at the back of his neck that makes him swallow nervously, stopping in his tracks. “Uh- well, I just thought-”
“You thought wrong.” Miguel says blankly.
Peter flushes, seemingly understanding what Miguel planned to do, and takes multiple steps back till his back hits the wall behind him. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. “I- I don’t-”
“What? You didn’t actually think I was going to let you come anywhere near her?” Miguel’s laugh is cruel, and tears well in Peter’s eyes at the underlying humiliation.
“Don’t be mean,” you mutter against Miguel’s ear, your hands circling around his waist as you hug him, your eyes never leaving Peter’s. Yeah, Peter thought, don’t be mean, bitch.
Miguel softens under your touch, draping his arm over your shoulder to bring you impossibly closer, suddenly very aware of his own still very hard cock. He starts pressing kisses along your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw, and you smile as you nuzzle against him. “Oh baby, you’re still hard, aren’t you? How selfish of me,” you didn’t sound sorry at all. But neither Miguel nor Peter cared. 
Oh yeah, Peter was still very much here. Cock throbbing and all. 
“Stop teasing, bebita,” Miguel hisses, his eyes fluttering as he ruts his hips against you, the smallest of whimpers escaping his lips. Peter would have laughed if Miguel’s voice didn’t make the sound hot. Another fact about Miguel that pissed him off, because when Peter whimpers, it sounds pathetic. 
Peter drops his hand over his bulge, groaning under his breath when he squeezes himself over his pants, finally getting some much needed friction.
To Peter’s utter horror, that was the moment that Miguel remembered that he was still in the room, and Peter froze when Miguel’s eyes met his, goosebumps rising all over his body when Miguel’s gaze dropped to his covered cock. Fuck. “Touch yourself for all I care, but know that this is the first and last time I’m letting you in on this. The next time I catch you creeping on her, I’ll kill you.” Well, that was not at all what Peter expected. How horrible, and assertive. Not at all arousing.
Peter cleared his throat, “Kill me. Yeah. Yup. No, yeah, I got it.”
You laugh softly, your own hand dropping to palm Miguel over his suit, “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,”
Miguel tries hard to hide the slight tremble in his voice at the slight contact you gave him, “Is that so?”. He dropped his head, breath fanning across your neck, “Wanna test that theory?”. Both men smile when your breath hitches, Peter staring hard, and finally pulling his cock out. He inhales sharply when he wraps his hand around himself, so desperately wanting to close his eyes and fuck his fist till he comes, but keeps them open so as not to miss the show you so generously were putting in front of him. His eyes follow Miguel’s movements, as he bends to lick across your neck, biting down on your skin a second later, both men letting out sounds of appreciation as you moan.
Peter jerks his cock at a slow pace, eyes hooded, matching the tempo at which the tension builds up. He feels sick doing this, but he can’t help but let the pleasure take his mind off of the guilt that’s ready to eat him up, choosing to focus on how your throat bobs as you swallow, your lips forming a pretty 'o' as you lace your fingers through Miguel’s hair, mewling when he grazes his teeth over your collarbones.
Miguel presses the softest of kisses on the spot he’d previously bitten, and says, “On your knees, baby.” Peter is lightheaded by the pure sex dripping from Miguel’s voice, his cock twitching under his palm, and he squeezes his hand around the base of it, slowly bringing it up to circle around his tip, openly panting like a bitch in heat.
Seeing you drop to your knees was a sight Peter never thought he’d ever see, but one that he was very thankful for. From this angle, you gave Peter the perfect view of your profile. You were grinning, your expression a bit hazy, a bit cockdrunk. The tank top you were wearing looked crinkled, and Peter wondered if Miguel had the material bunched up over your tits while he was fucking you.
Peter stares as you grab at Miguel’s thighs over his suit, squeezing the flesh appreciatively as you look up at him expectedly. God, you were begging to get fucked again. Wait- over his suit? Miguel was still wearing his suit, how the fuck- 
As if Peter was voicing his thoughts out loud, the material of Miguel’s suit disappeared slowly, his cock springing up, balls dropping the slightest bit from the secure hold they were being kept up by the tightness of the suit. The start of his thighs and his belly were also exposed, pretty bronze skin a perfect contrast to the deep blue color of his suit.
“What the fuck was that?!” Peter can't help but let out, and Miguel throws him a proud smirk, “Nanotech,” You smile at the small nerdy exchange, too preoccupied to properly join in the conversation. Miguel’s pleasure was above everything else. You wrap your hand around his thick cock, moaning softly as you trace the veins on the side, bending down to kiss and suck on his fat balls. “Makes things easier-ah fuuuck,” Miguel bites on his lower lip roughly, brows furrowing as he bucks into your hand, hand caressing the side of your jaw gently. You looked so fucking beautiful.
Peter drops his other hand to fondle his balls, suddenly jealous, and throws his head back against the wall, groaning as he still keeps his eyes open to watch you.
Five minutes later, Peter was still copying your movements. When you licked at Miguel’s tip, dragging your tongue over the head, and lapping up the precum greedily, Peter made sure he only touched his tip as well, circling and rolling his hand over the head. When you licked the sides of Miguel’s cock, your hand following the same pattern just under your tongue, Peter was jerking his cock in perfect synchronization, mimicking your technique entirely.  He could practically taste the pleasure Miguel was getting.
During all this, Peter couldn’t hold back his voice. He moaned and groaned shamelessly, raising his hips to meet his hand sloppily. Fuck, he was so close to coming.
Miguel was truly no better, he was just better at masking it. He constantly gritted his teeth, hissing at your antics, but the occasional moan would slip, and it always made your pussy throb, as if you could feel it vibrating against you.
You take Miguel’s cock in your mouth with no warning, the tip touching your throat as you swallow around him, nose touching the base of his cock, your eyes tearing up quickly. Both men sputter at the sudden action. Miguel moans loudly, his belly flexing as he bends over you, fingers threading between your hair.
Peter almost comes right then and there, the movement of his hand on his cock so fast and rough, that it was creating a lewd wet sound “S-shit, you look so good, sweet thingmff fuuck. Yeah-like that, Oh my God,”
Both yours and Miguel’s heads snap up, surprised by Peter’s outburst. Miguel raises an eyebrow, his jaw locking. Was this asshole really imagining he was in his place? Well, he couldn’t exactly blame him, but it still pissed him off. When he turned his head to look at you, though, you were looking at Peter curiously and- were you biting your lip?
“Something you wanna say to him, baby?” Miguel’s voice comes out dry, and you can instantly tell he’s mad. You send him a knowing smile, shaking your head softly, “Not really. I just think he sounds sweet.”
“Yeah?” Peter whimpers in reply immediately. I sound sweet, I sound sweet, I sound sweet.
You glance at Peter again, rubbing your thighs together, and Miguel scowls at the movement and tugs at your hair hard, “Keep talking, Peter. Somehow, she seems to be liking your whining.”
“S so good, you’re so good, fuck I wanna feel your mouth on me so bad,” Peter babbles mindlessly and you can't help but watch as he thrusts into his hand needily.
Miguel notices you staring and grinds his teeth together, “What are you looking at him for, huh? Looking at his cock when mine is right in front of you. Am I not enough for you, bebita?” Your head whips around to look at the man in front of you, your eyes widening a fraction as you shake your head softly.
You make sure to put on a show as you run your lips all over Miguel’s cock, spreading his pre-cum all over your mouth and chin as you talk, “You’re everything. Your cock ‘s so pretty, the prettiest ever. Love it s’much..”. Miguel feels satisfaction spread in his veins, making him warm all over. He slaps his cock over your cheek for good measure as he stands taller and huffs out a condescending laugh, glancing at Peter with a dumb smirk on his face. That’ll teach him. 
But what Miguel sees is not at all what he expected. 
Peter’s eyes roll back, the hand on his cock tightening as he moans. Fuck, he wants nothing more than to be at Miguel’s place right now that it’s driving him insane. “Such a good fucking girl, baby, shit.”
Miguel snarls at his reaction before snapping his head back to you, “Open your mouth,” 
You do as you’re told, tongue out as you stare up at him with doe eyes, but he just clicks his tongue, “Wider.” Miguel shoves his hand in your mouth, his thumb on your tongue as the rest of his fingers cradle your jaw. He pumps his cock with his other hand, biting his lip, and mutters “Yeah, just like that.. You gonna be good for me?” You nod, and Miguel's thumb gets coated in your saliva from the movement.
Miguel grins and takes his thumb out, slowly turning his head to lock eyes with Peter. Then, he brings his hand up to his face and closes his mouth around his thumb, hollowing his cheeks prettily as he sucks your spit off his finger, his gaze dropping to Peter's cock.
Peter's jaw slacks, and his hips stutter at the sight in front of him. Miguel's low chuckle falls on deaf ears, Peter being too busy watching your hands squeeze Miguel's ass impatiently, trying to coax him back in your mouth, mewling when he relents and slips his cock inside. Miguel can't help but raise his hips as you bob your head up and down his length.
Peter spits on his cock suddenly, the filthy sound making you glance at him again, and Miguel's jaw ticks “It’s okay, bebita, you can look at him. Look, but know that he could never fuck you like I did. Or did you forget how you creamed around my cock, hm? I bet that pussy’s still wet for me,”
Peter moans approvingly, “Mm I bet it is..” 
Miguel inhales sharply, his eyes falling shut, “Peter.”
“Yeahuh? Fuck. Yeah?”
“Get your ass over here.” Peter nearly falls on his face as he stumbles forward, raising his sweatpants carelessly as he walks over. His hands tremble when he clasps them together in front of him lamely, standing awkwardly near you both.
“Closer, pendejo.” Peter gawks at Miguel's request, shakes his head, and reluctantly takes two steps closer. He made sure to throw a glance towards Miguel to ensure that he wasn’t getting punched anytime soon.
“Hold her hair back.” 
Peter must have died and went to heaven. There was no fucking way this was happening-
“Did you hear what I fucking said-"
Peter jumps when Miguel raises his voice and quickly springs into action. His breath hitches, but he can't help himself- not when he's carefully pulling your hair back, his fingers brushing your cheeks, avoiding touching Miguel's hands as he's still holding your head, practically using your mouth as a fleshlight.
Peter tries not to react when you gargle around Miguel's cock, the popping sound your mouth makes when you pull back to get some air pulling a hiss out of him. You cough messily, and as you do, you turn to look at Peter, in all your tears-running-down-your-cheeks glory. And then you grin at him, and Peter's legs buckle. And despite everything, despite the drool running down your chin, and Miguel's hard cock still in his field of view- Peter says, “Rough day, huh,"
You snort out a laugh, and Miguel's eyes almost roll to the back of his head because- how the fuck is that funny?- and so, he growls, tapping your lips twice with his cock before shoving it back inside your mouth, his head dropping as he moans lowly.
“Oh, fuck.”  Miguel’s head was fuzzy, hypnotized by the way you bobbed your head up and down his cock, your hands fondling his balls with juust the right amount of pressure that made his thighs shake. He touches your jaw with his pointer finger, thumb drawing circles over your cheek in awe. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum.”
Peter whimpers, “fuck…” and Miguel laughs breathlessly, tongue running over his fangs, “Are you gonna fuck your fist again when you think back to this? Back when she had her pretty lips wrapped around my cock and you watched her take it.. Jesus Christ, you look pathetic. I bet if she told you to hump the fucking floor, you would.”
Peter moans and nods absentmindedly, pulling his cock out hurriedly and starting to jerk his cock sloppily, gaze glued on your fluttering eyes, mascara running down your cheeks prettily. His eyes flicker from your face to your cleavage and he whines. Your tits just look so soft, he can't help himself.
Miguel, ever the perceptive man, notices this, “Be a good girl and pull your shirt up for Peter, baby.” You moan around his cock at the way his voice trembles, and raise your shirt over your boobs, suddenly very aware of your own underwear sticking to your pussy mesilly. Fuck, you were drenched.
“Oh my God,” Peter pants, eyes losing focus, hand on your hair loosening as he moves his hips back and forth, fucking into his hand relentlessly. “I'm gonna cum, gonna cum-”
“Cum on her tits.”
Peter sobs, stepping closer to jerk his cock just over your tits and he jumps when he feels you squeeze his thigh, nails digging into the skin. He feels his balls tighten, and he grasps your shoulder as his knees buckle suddenly. “I'm cumming- Oh fuck I'm-” his cock twitches as he cums, painting your pretty tits white, the jerks of his hand never stopping as he rides out his orgasm.
For a moment, it feels as though only Peter's moans and whimpers can be heard, and fuck, he hopes there's no one outside because he's so fucking loud, and it's so humiliating that he can feel tears running down his cheeks. He feels lightheaded and utterly spent as he pumps his cock, squeezing his hand tight around himself as he watches the last of his cum drip down his length and onto your shirt, turning it a darker shade.
“Oh- fuck. Oh my fucking God.” Peter bites back a whimper and shudders, when you bring your hands to your tits, squeezing them roughly and getting his cum aaall over them.
The ringing in Peter's ears fades away, and he snaps his eyes to Miguel when he hears the state he's in.
Miguel grunts each time he snaps his cock back in your mouth, reveling in your gurgles, feeling the vibration of your moans go straight to his balls, and he. can't. stop. Not when he'd just seen Peter cum all over your tits like that. Not when he'd liked watching him do it.
“Take it. Fuck- take my fuckin' cum baby-shit,” Miguel whimpers and snarls as he snaps his hips one final time, holding your head in place, his thighs shaking as he cums down your throat. He throws his head back when he feels you swallow around his length, muttering incoherently to himself in Spanish as he whimpers and groans.
Miguel stumbles back slightly, cock slipping from your mouth at last, and both men can't help but stare hungrily, their cocks hardening once more as you gather the excess cum that's dripping down your chin in your hands, licking it out of your palms a second later. All three of you are panting hard, letting your actions linger in the air for a moment.
But then you look up at them, a sinful glint in your eyes, and Miguel turns to Peter and says,
“What are you waiting for? Lick her tits clean.”
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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ohimsummer · 2 months
Text
TROUBLEMAKER ft. CAT! STSG AU
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— cat! au (gojo + geto), afab! reader, shoko cameo, stsg cat shenanigans, crack, some explicit language, gojo is the most annoying and insufferable he’s ever been ever (/affectionate)
⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ part 1! finally got around 2 finishing this :3 idk about satoru yet but suguru is a fluffy oriental shorthair in my head. no I will not debate this ♡
wc 4.2k
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“They’re…cats…?”
There’s an incessant sound of scribbling on Shoko’s clipboard. Her voice is almost drowned out by a white feline’s cries for your attention. “Yup.”
The other cat, the black one—Suguru, apparently—lies content in your arms, purring into your chest as you thread through long, sleek fur. A voice nags at the back of your mind that petting him is a little peculiar, but his hair is like silk. You can’t help it.
Satoru, ever the asshole, batted away all your efforts to pet him, and is now left in his regret to wander circles around your ankles. Angry, dilated pupils never leave Geto—who remains blissfully indifferent—as Gojo paws at your feet to be rewarded even a glance.
“It’s the side effect of a cursed spirit. I’m assuming it went ‘whoosh’ and they went ‘psshhh’.” Shoko makes a shrinking motion with her hands. “And now they’re cats.”
A frown weighs down your lips at her lackluster explanation. “I don’t think I understand—”
“Anyway, it should wear off in a couple days.” Her pen swivels in your direction, eyes steady trained on her paperwork. “You gonna need my help buying supplies?”
“Huh—!” The words choke up in your throat. “Why are they coming with me?”
Shoko finally spares you a glance, an audacious look as if you asked something idiotic. “Oh, please, you really think they’d be happier staying with me? Besides, I don’t wanna do it. Duh.”
There’s also the unspoken assumption that she wants the apartment to herself for a couple days. Or to have Utahime over in peace but, ultimately, you’ll be stuck catering to this feline duo.
“God, I—, fine.”
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The journey back to your place is going smoothly, save for when Gojo conveniently decides to figure-8 between your steps. Or stop in front of every sweets shop to blink his giant, round cat eyes at you over his miniature sunglasses.
“He’s so cute!,” a passing older lady stops to fawn over him. “Look at him and his little glasses, how adorable!”
And you just offer up a grin, afraid to dip a toe into this awkward small talk as if Gojo has always been this talkative, adorable kitty—knowing just yesterday he had you in a headlock over not sharing your own dessert with him. You also don’t want to be susceptible to any related teasing whenever they turn back, brushing off her comments with forced laughter as you continue onwards.
Gojo lags behind, responding to the woman with some proud cat noises before running ahead to reach your side again. Unfortunately, right on his heels is this persistent older lady.
You can hear her firing off a barrage of questions and statements: “What’s his name? Is he a Persian? I have a little gal at home that looks just like him!”
It’s a struggle not to roll your eyes. Sure, her chatter is innocent, but you don’t want to be bothered. Besides, these are not some childhood pets accompanying you on an errand—they’re two, 6-foot-tall boys in feline bodies, primed to snag onto any questionable comment you make as ammo to bully you in the future.
“His name is Gojo. Not sure of his breed. I just got him.”
Uninterested tone, closed-off body language, pace picking up—none of it seems to be enough to deter her.
“He looks so nurtured!”
Said he looks cranky and tired, legs a blur as Gojo runs to keep your pace. He growls out obvious complaints, nipping and clawing at your ankles to slow you down.
“You must be such a wonderful cat momma to him! I bet he’d make some pretty babies—“
Suguru makes a stuttered, breathy noise in your ear, an amused chuff that must be his cat version of laughter.
An incoming crosswalk threatens to leave you at the mercy of her conversation. Your eyes are trained on the mocking, red hand, the one thing that prevents you from booking it to the other side of the street.
You’re forced to slow down as you draw nearer to the heap of people awaiting the signal change.
Her “Could I get a picture of him?” sends a shudder down your spine. Perhaps jaywalking would grant you a ticket out of this.
The crossing icon switches right before you’re forced to a complete stop, and a sigh of relief escapes as you maneuver through a a confused crowd. Mutters of apology are left in your trail of dust, along with the ear-catching clamors of a white kitty.
You only peep behind you for a brief second, Suguru’s ticklish fur floating around in your nose, and you spot the lady getting swept away by the wave of ongoers. Her voice is lost beneath the sea, a camera-yielding hand flailing above unbothered heads.
Geto flicks a bushy, dark tail over your face, thoroughly getting hair on your tongue this time around. You’re about to turn and scold him before skidding to a halt right before colliding with a large, metal pole.
His white-furred partner is not so lucky, though he only makes an abrupt faceplant into the back of your lower calves. Gojo plops back on his rear, giving a low meow as he uses a paw to straighten his crooked sunglasses.
“Thanks, Suguru” you mutter, and he flicks an ear in response, continuing to guard his spot on your shoulder for the remainder of the journey. Geto is mostly silent, save for the occasional silky mew to either grab your attention or get his explorative friend in line.
Upon entrance to your apartment building, Satoru only seems to grow more unruly. He leaps onto the front desk, spitting sharp grievances as you gather him up and layer apologies to the worker behind the counter. Suguru makes sure to land a few light warning taps on his head, almost slipping off your shoulder when Gojo retaliates with his own irated slaps. The scene of you tottering into the elevator while also breaking up a literal cat fight makes for quite the show for the few people in the lobby.
“Looks like you’ve got your hands pretty full, eh?,” a man chuckles, arm held over the elevator doors so you may stumble inside.
“I don’t—stop it, you two—know what I’m gonna do with them,” you sigh, and he replies with a sympathetic head shake.
The doors ease shut, and then what should have been a short trip to your room is prolonged when Gojo decides he wants to swat at the buttons. Now, on top of stopping at floors where there are actual people waiting, you’re stuck visiting six others that he and his mischievous paws have so chosen. And also forced into more awkward interactions of people complimenting your wonderful animal caretaking skills.
“The black one is so well-behaved.,” a young brunette fawns. She raises a hand to scratch under Suguru’s chin, face falling in embarrassment when he pulls away from her. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”
You can’t tell if she’s apologizing to you or him.
A short cough disguises your giggle, and you inform her, “Ah, it’s fine, he’s just weary of other people.”
She seems reassured at your words, glancing at a wriggling Satoru in your grasp. “He doesn’t look too interested in being pet, either, haha.”
Gojo weighs heavy in your arms, and you readjust to get a better grip on him, ignoring his meows of complaint. “Yeah, he’s kind of an asshole—“mrrow!”—and he might scratch, so I’d advise against it.”
A shy grin spreads on her lips, and then the girl is exiting the lift, waving goodbye to you and the two kitties.
Upon reaching your own floor, Gojo zooms out into the hallway, vocalizations echoing in the empty corridor. Geto remains carefully seated on your shoulder, leaning onto your head and surely leaving strands of cat fur in your own hair. The white cat speeds ahead until he arrives at your door, and then immediately begins another cacophony of loud meows, seemingly in an effort to rush you.
“Satoru, be quiet!”, you whisper-shout at him from down the hall. The words are barely audible in your own ears over the sound of his impatient yells.
They only die down once your keys enter the lock, and Gojo slithers inside the second the door is cracked, Geto not far behind as he leaps from his anchor point. You roll the joint in a circle—he’s so cute as a little parrot on your shoulder, but the lack of weight is a welcome relief.
“Jeez, Suguru, you’re kinda heavy.” The obvious offense in his low ‘mrow?’ makes you giggle. “I’m gonna get changed and then I’ll make dinner after. Be right back!”
There’s a pitter patter of steps, and Gojo is sidling up next to you for your upstairs trip. He pounces onto the bed, watching as you grab a shirt (his) off a chair at your desk, and a pair of leggings from the closet. Geto resides at the top of the stairs to supervise, ready to intervene should his idiot other half start causing more trouble.
With the clothes in your hands, your next stop is the bathroom, though you halt in the vacant doorway with Gojo right on your heels.
“Ummmm…,” you scoff a laugh as blue eyes blink up at you. “Satoru, you’re not watching me change.”
He replies a conjoined, high-pitched ‘mrow-row?’, not making an effort to move. Geto strolls over and bats at his fluffy, white rear, an unamused look in his violet eyes. While Gojo turns to defend his haunches, you giggle a ‘Thanks, Suguru!’ for the second time and disappear into the bathroom, promptly ignoring the dull smack of a paw and a loud hiss as your hip bumps the door shut.
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A white head snaps in your direction upon your reappearance. Gojo trots forward to greet you, bushy tail straight up in a friendly gesture. His calmer counterpart is nowhere to be found when a flash of black catches your attention, and you spot Geto balanced on the railing of your bedroom.
“Keepin’ an eye on Satoru?” You realize you’re talking to him in somewhat of a babified pet voice, but he doesn’t seem to mind, only purring happily as you scratch a finger under his chin.
Someone doesn’t like that, and your hand rapidly recoils as an angry Gojo steadies on his hind legs, shouting angry yowls and hisses and furiously slamming a paw at any part of Geto he can reach, sending the black cat plummeting off the railing and you hear him land on the level below with a loud thud.
“Satoru Gojo!” Named cat looks back at you like he didn’t just essentially push Suguru to his doom. “You’re gonna behave in my house, sir, or I’m sending you back to Shoko!” He opens his mouth to complain, but you cut off Gojo’s meow with another scolding. “Nah ah, I don’t want to hear it! Don’t start trouble or it’s to the shelter, ya hear?”
His ears flatten back, expression akin to what you can only describe as intense worry, and Gojo grants you a final, pleading meow as he stands again, front paws against your leg. You reach down to pet behind his little ears, and he leans a fuzzy head into your palm, tail swishing as the rumbling in his throat grows louder.
“You’re such a baby.”, comes your gentle coo as Satoru’s lids ease shut. “Could’ve asked for pets way better than that.”
You only reward his bad behavior for a moment. The caress of your hand stops far too soon for Gojo’s liking, and he’s right behind to follow you back down to the first floor. Geto meets you halfway, looking behind you and leaving you to continue on interrupted. There’s the sharp sound of a ‘smack!’ and a pair of tiny, blue sunglasses tumble past to land at the bottom of the stairs.
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“Ah, ah! Satoru, get down!”
The guilty feline goes skedaddling off the countertops, casting Geto an envious glare as he scampers to sit right at the threshold where your kitchen meets the living room.
Your eyes narrow at him, suspicious and distrustful, before returning to your cooking under Geto’s careful examination from the marble surface. His tiny nose livens up at the savory smells wafting around the kitchen, pink tongue darting over a furry mouth as he curiously eyes the fried rice in the pan.
The delicious scent of cooked meat creeps up his nostrils, and Geto turns to eye his slice of the chicken breast you’ve so graciously blessed him with. It’s only partially nibbled on so a third of it still remains, but if Satoru had his way, both he and Suguru’s servings of the meat would have long since been given a home on his endless stomach. It’s why your gaze keeps traveling around the room. You’re keeping tabs on Gojo and his greedy whereabouts.
Speak of the devil—barely two minutes later and the snowy thief is back. His shrill meows pierce your eardrums, restless paws tracing steps between your feet, scurrying behind your couch when he almost trips you only to eventually return when your scowl has disappeared.
The air of your apartment feels happy, jubilant. It’s so serene considering these two are in the same room together. Just the sizzle of food, the background noise of the television, and Gojo’s constant yowling for any smidge of your attention—though it feels domestic in a way if you don’t think too hard on the fact that it’s Satoru. Maybe there’s also the quiet sounds of chewing whenever Geto decides he wants another bite of his chicken.
The hassle comes whenever you turn your head and Gojo makes his move, leaping onto the counter to cause havoc. His troublemaking comes in a plethora of ways, but his favorites seem to be taking a bite out of Suguru or attempting to steal whatever leftover scraps are in his sight. His sneaky plans are foiled by the black cat either wrestling him back onto the floor or meowing an alarm so that the Gods (you) may banish Satoru from the kitchen once again.
Matters are only made worse when you offer Suguru a piece of egg from your now-finished dinner, and the exiled, white cat screeches in a show of utter betrayal.
“Oh my god, Satoru.” You pluck another chunk of poultry from the skillet, kneeling to present it in your palm. “Here.”
Suguru’s eyes narrow at his dramatic feline partner, ears twisted back and dropped to flatten against his head as the tip of his black tail flicks back and forth.
Gojo pads over. His pink nose looks adorable, scrunched up as he sniffs your hand for a second or two before licking his lips, and then he snatches the cooked egg from your hand and scurries off. There’s a large sigh behind you; Geto gives you a half-lidded eye-roll from his new spot at the edge of the counter, before voicing a short ‘mroh’.
You grin at him. “He’s such a goofball, isn’t he?” ‘Mrow-ow’.
With your meal finally ready and a grumbling stomach, you curl up on the couch, bowl of oyakodon in hand. The movie playing on the tv is boring, and also halfway done so it doesn’t hold an ounce of your interest. Even so, you try not to notice the pair of blue eyes peeking at you over the coffee table.
Ignoring Satoru and his hungry gaze makes for a far more entertaining game. The tip of his bushy, white tail is visible from where you sit, swaying side to side as Gojo eyes your bowl of food.
“You’re not getting any, Satoru, you’ve already eaten most of the kitchen, today.”
‘MrraAAH!’ He lets loose a dramatic scream, squinting sky blues at you.
Gojo’s so focused on vacuuming up any possible crumbs that he doesn’t notice the black shadow creeping up behind him. It’s not until Suguru paws at his snowy-colored fur that his cerulean eyes turn towards him. They hold each other’s gaze before Geto ducks out of your sight, and soon Gojo with him. There’s a sound of scuffling, someone’s frantic meows, and then the white kitty skids into view with Geto pinning him down, both wrestling as he tries to sink teeth into Satoru’s back.
You take another nonchalant bite of food. “Get his ass, Suguru.”
Gojo’s continual wriggling finally grants him freedom from the black feline’s clutches. You watch in amusement as he flees the scene, Geto hot on his tail. Satoru goes careening around the corner of the coffee table, nails scraping your hardwood floors so he’s stuck gliding like a cartoon character before disappearing from view; Suguru takes a more parkour-ish approach, rebounding off the wall and he goes flying into his target if the following ‘thud’ and ‘MRAH!’ is of any indication.
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A late-evening shopping trip wasn’t on the schedule for today, but there was an unfortunate flaw in today’s system: the call of nature for your two new kitties.
Your original plan was to get everything tomorrow. Cat food and bedding could be improvised for tonight, and Satoru was enough entertainment for he and Suguru together. One thing had slipped your mind until you found the two causing a racket atop your closed toilet—a litter box.
One quick trip later, and now you’re back home arranging their little tray, pouring the grey pebbles inside and hiding it on a mat in the corner of your living room where they could have more privacy.
“There ya go!” Your hands fall to your hips, looking proudly over your work. The two large cats stand on either side of you, glancing between you, each other, and their new bathroom. “Go on, now, don’t be shy.”
Satoru grants you an offended glare over his shades, while Suguru turns and walks away entirely, the tip of his tail flicking in annoyance.
“Hey, I went through the trouble to go out and get this thing for you two and this is how you repay me?” Satoru nips at your leg in response. “Ow! Stop that! Fine, hold it then, but you two better not do your business on my floors.”
Though they seemed adamant about not going in the litter box, you can see the idea nudging it’s way into their little heads as the urge to go grows stronger with time. You catch them sneaking glances at their designated corner, easing closer and closer to the box. Suguru sniffs at the entrance before leaving it again. Satoru apparently thinks keeping his back to it will make his need to use it go away.
“Mrooww!”, Geto voices to you, clawing at your front door.
You sigh at him. “Suguru, just use the litterbox.”
He produces a sound between a meow and a low growl, still showcasing his irritation with flat ears and a swaying tail.
“Is it too little? You two want something bigger? Or two separate litter boxes? Either way, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow because it’s late out and I’m not walking you all the way to the park for this.”
“Mroh..?”
Arms fold beneath your chest. “And you’re not going by yourself, either.”
Gojo circles your legs, letting out a low chuff. No doubt this is amusing to him. His pouty friend sighs and struts away like a stubborn child, hissing as Satoru bats at his lowered tail and leaving to hide somewhere in your room.
You move on with your nightly duties—tidying up your kitchen, putting away leftovers, keeping an eye out for the shenanigans of a white-haired feline. Maybe twenty minutes have passed, and you suddenly hear the scritch-scratch of litter being tossed around.
From the corner of your eye, you see a bundle of black whisps protruding from the entrance of the box. It’s not any of your business until you have to clean the thing out. For now, you’re just content he’s using it and not tampering with the health of his liver.
Then, through your peripherals, Gojo pops up next to the box, sitting just outside of it. He peeks inside, meowing, and jolts back as a black paw reaches out to slap him away. There’s an exchange of curious cat noises and irate yowls, before a screech echos from the litter box and you rush over to break up their impending battle.
“Satoru—,” you snatch him away, spitting out clouds of his shedding, white hair,”—give him some privacy, damn.”
You heave Gojo and his massive self up your stairs throughout another set of his meowed complaints, watch as he cranes his head at the sound of more scratching litter.
“Why are you being a pervert trying to watch him pee?”, comes your exasperated question.
He wriggles expertly in your arms, instantly escaping your grasp around his upper body and goes fleeing downstairs no doubt to harass Geto again.
It’s the end of the day. You’re over it for tonight. “GET UP HERE.”
His swift steps and the scraping of litter both halt at the tone and base of your voice.
Satoru turns his shiny, blue eyes to you, head slightly lowered in shame like a child who knows they’ve angered their mom. He turns-tail, creeping back up the stairs with cautious steps. Once he reaches your side, blacks of his eyes wide and round, he gives you a squeaked ‘mrow…?’.
Geto peeks around the corner to peer up the steps at the sudden commotion, retreating when he sees your crossed arms and the fed-up taps of your foot.
“Up the stairs. Now.” Gojo skitters past you without a second thought. “You two, Suguru, let’s go. It’s bedtime.”
A short pause, and then he comes trotting up to the second floor, tail raised straight up and he gives a flurry of bright meows as he obeys your command.
They’re both on the bed by the time you travel the remaining few steps to your bedroom. Both sit side-by-side, obedient and still and awaiting your next move.
“I’m gonna finish my routine. Don’t you two start any trouble while I’m busy, ya hear?”
A harmonized ‘mrrow!’.
“Good boys.” You clap your hands together with a grin. “Now get ready for bed.”
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“Satoru, you can’t sleep there.”
While Geto has, of course, chosen a more ideal, comfier spot for bedtime near the edge of your bed, his counterpart takes a more…spacious approach. They’re both rather large cats, so him laying sprawled out on his back, smack-dab in the center in a spread-eagle is not the most suitable place for Gojo to slumber.
Your words elicit no reaction from him—not besides the flick of his ear, anyway. Geto’s tail swishes from side to side, a tell that he’s about to bop Gojo with a harsh paw to the face and a hiss. And he does just that, but it seems Gojo has caught on as he grabs hold of the furry black arm with his paws. You watch the duo wrestle as he tries to sink fangs into Geto’s shoulder. They’re like toddlers fighting over a toy, and the scene just elicits a shake of your head in defeated amusement at their childish antics.
He’s got Gojo pinned to the bed, the latter bunny-kicking his hind legs in futile efforts to shove Geto off him, before they both go tumbling onto the floor, breaking up their little quarrel. The two scurry off in opposite directions, Geto under the bed and Gojo into the open door of your bathroom. Two loud thumps. Your butt hasn’t even hit the mattress before the sound of things falling catch your ears.
“Satoru…?,” you call out, disappointment evident in your tone. A second passes before his purred 'mrrr?' and you feel Geto’s whiskers brush your bare ankles as he peeks from his hiding spot. “Did you break something in there?” More silence, and then the smallest, cutest squeak followed by a blue eye that peeks around the corner.
Walking into the bathroom, you’re not met with completely heinous results. He must’ve ricocheted off the walls to make such a mess in such few seconds. Your toothpaste and a few makeup products are spilled onto the floor, and Satoru approaches with your toothbrush carried in his teeth. Hands on your hips and a brow quirked, you just take it and make a mental note to get a new one in the morning.
“Alright.” The sound of your double claps echo off the tile. “Out. Both of you.” And off they go.
It takes a few extra minutes to clean up Gojo’s small mess, and bedtime this time around is easier when a large white cat isn’t trying to take up majority of the bed. You settle beneath the sheets, Suguru curling up on the other, unoccupied pillow this time, and Satoru so graciously plops down to lay on the curve of your back.
“Comfy now?,” you crane your neck to address the cat whose head rests at the incline of your ass. He murmurs a low meow in return, and you turn to Suguru, who’s eyes are the only thing you can see in the darkness. “And you?” The subtle sound of purring emits from his throat.
“Okay. G’night, you two.” And you are lulled off to sleep with their low, harmonious rumbling.
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tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @elusivemoon @yunymphs @hellkaiserinphoenix @plutowrites @babytoshiii
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al1fers-haven · 1 month
Text
Almost Instinctual
Alastor x pregnant!reader
‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️
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Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.
Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2
(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)
(8 weeks/2 months)
You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.
Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.
Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.
Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.
And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.
Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.
(12 weeks/3 months)
You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.
Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.
“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.
You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.
Making people uncomfortable.
Cocaine.
And candy crush.
Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.
Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.
Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.
Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.
He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.
Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.
(Unless he was threatening someone.)
(17 weeks/3.2 months)
You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.
Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.
Alastor had been…odd.
He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.
Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.
Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)
You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.
You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.
Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.
Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.
Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.
(20 weeks/4 months)
First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..
You two had grown a bit closer.
Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.
The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it
You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.
He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.
(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)
(25 weeks/5 months)
If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.
You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.
May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.
She asked to be the godmother.
Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.
Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.
(7 months)
Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.
He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)
He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.
Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.
(8 months)
Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.
After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.
He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!
Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…
(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)
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mutable-manifestation · 4 months
Text
Ghost Chirps AU Part 3
Part 1 & 2
Around half past midnight, Jason is losing his patience.
They've been searching for hours and finding a whole lot of nothing, and statistics about the odds of finding kidnapping victims and the first 72 hours.
It's been almost 48 since he saw the kid and he's cursing himself for not doing more sooner.
Cameras are finding nothing, Signal is finding nothing, everyone is finding a whole lot of nothing.
And Jason...
Jason chirps.
He doesn't know if it'll help, but it's the only idea he's got. Even if it's a shallow chance. It's all he's got; he has to try.
And if Bruce decides that Jason being meta is the line? Then he'll cope.
He won't refuse to do something just because he's scared when his- when the kid's well being is on the line.
He won't be like Bruce, who'd let his killer walk free rather than do something about it because his feelings were somehow more important when Jason died.
He won't.
The first chirp yields nothing.
He does it again pushing to try and make it as loud as possible.
Again, nothing.
Again, he chirps, something in him certain that if he just keeps going it'll work. Somehow. But he's learned to trust his gut - or weird meta instincts?
And it works.
Because after the third chirp the kid chirps back.
Except.
The kid is not in Gotham.
He is very, very not in Gotham.
He chalks it up to his weird meta-bird instincts that he somehow just knows it came from somewhere hundreds of miles that-a-way.
Kidnapping is looking more likely given just how far the kid got, but now?
Now Jason has a way to find him.
He ignores Oracle asking about mask static in favor of hopping down from the balcony he'd paused on and heading back to the batbike - Bruce's paranoia meant it would have more than enough gas to take him as far as he needed to go and then some.
'And more than enough weapons to level a block, if needed,' he thinks viciously.
"Hood!" Oracle’s sharp voice shakes him from his thoughts.
"Found the kid," he shoots back, hoping to avoid the inevitable questioning.
Mixed exclamations of relief and confusion echoed over the radio.
"How!?" Nightwing cries. "I was literally right next to you! What did I miss!?"
"What are you, deaf?" he grumbles back irritably, uncomfortable. It'd be easier if they were, he thinks. Then he wouldn't have to explain.
"Does this have something to do with the static noise your helmet was producing previously? I had worried it was damaged," Oracle asks.
"Static?" Jason echoes, not slowing a bit - nearly to the bike.
"Oh yeah!" Nightwing says, as though she's making perfect sense.
'Ah,' he thinks, 'A shred of mercy in this vastly cruel existence.'
Aloud, he just says, "Yup. He's not in Gotham anymore, though, and I don't know how far he'll end up going or how long I'll be gone. Anyone who wants to come with can catch up, because I'm leaving now."
15 seconds later he's leaping onto the batbike and peeling out.
***
Jason doesn’t chirp again until he’s nearly to Illinois. 
He wants to. He wants to chirp nonstop the moment he hears that first reply, wants to spend the whole hours-long drive listening to nothing but a litany of chirps that reassure him that his kid is alive alive alive.
He won’t risk it. 
He doesn’t know where, exactly, the kid is. Doesn’t know if his family didn’t hear him because the chirps are only audible to him and the kid or if it was really due to a helmet malfunction covering for him. 
But there is a chance that whoever has the kid can hear his chirps, so Jason won’t risk having him respond more than he absolutely has to in order to find him.
The next time, the kid answers back to the very first chirp, and Jason knows he’s heading in the right direction.
He gets turned around just once, overshooting and heaving to loop back, but he curses himself for it anyway - wasting precious time when the kid is going through who knows what.
Then he’s entering Amity Park: a nice place to live.
A nice place to die, for whoever it was that took his kid.
Several chirps later he’s in front of a school - of all things.
He doesn’t waste time doubting himself - kidnapping victims could be stashed anywhere - he storms in, batbike left idling at the base of the front steps.
Three chirps later he’s slamming through a door into a classroom. Full of kids. Taking a totally normal class - aside, of course, from Jason’s interruption.
One last exchange of chirps later and he finally lays eyes on his little shadow - who has the audacity to also look surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to lead him here in the first place.
Jason takes a moment to feel relieved, adrenaline beginning to crash before it revs back up with his indignation.
What happened to ‘goodbye!’ Who in their right mind would disappear from Gotham and not think that those left behind would assume they were kidnapped!? It’s Gotham!
Oh. Oh the child was in Gotham alone.
The child was in Gotham for a vacation.
Oh the child’s parents didn’t even realize he was gone? He’s worried about them putting him in an iron maiden!?
Jason’s eyes may be green, but oh, how his vision is red.
He barely hears the school’s alarm going off when he finally drives off-grounds, laser focused on following the road to the dot that’s popped up on his helmet just a few streets off, sending a curt thank-you to Oracle for saving him the effort of finding the kid’s address himself - she’s done him the courtesy of leaving everyone muted from his end, but he has little doubt they’ve all been listening to him. He’s only surprised she’s willing to condone the murder.
But then, of course she didn’t, he thinks as he pulls into a decently shadowed alley full of bats and birds. He’s torn between being touched that all of them came and being annoyed that he isn’t already in the process of murdering the kid’s parents. 
“New Brother?” Orphan asks the moment the bike is off, head tilting in question from her dumpster-top perch.
A second, smaller sense of outrage bubbles up next to the first, and it is a testament to his impeccable self-control that his hand only twitches over his gun at the question.
Bruce - Batman - tries to say something, but before he can finish even just the first syllable Jason’s head is snapping around to glare hell at him, and a low, animalistic growl practically rips itself from his throat.
He can see the way everyone tenses - subtle to anyone else, but a glaring neon sign in Jason’s vision. 
He curses himself for it; he asked them to be here. He specifically requested their help, and they gave it. The more of them there are involved, the faster they can help the kid into a safer environment.
But Jason came here to help the kid, not to offer him up as the next sacrifice in Batman’s long line of child soldiers.
“You wanna help? Great. Rule One: YOU,” he points at the bat for emphasis, “can’t adopt him.”
He chokes on whatever he was intending to say next at Orphan’s delighted clap and exclamation of “nephew!”
He wants to correct her, but… he doesn’t. 
Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid; Jason knows that.
He knows it more than anyone, having spent his early years there and his most recent years trying to make it better. He knows that.
But h- the kid is a meta. 
Looking at the facts: the kid is meta.
The kid is meta whose first concern with rule breaking is punishment via torture device.
The kid’s parents are neglectful enough that he spent over a week in Gotham and they never even noticed.
The kid went to Gotham to escape his home.
Whether his parents know that he is a meta or not, it is clear to Jason that the kid needs to be Out Of That House. Yesterday.
But he also knows just how metas are treated - even the MPA can only do so much against the tides of hatred and fear. 
And he’s seen the maps - he knows this state is one of the worse ones for metas to live in, let alone a meta child at the mercy of a foster family that has even odds of neglecting him, being just as bad as his original family, or possibly actually caring about him.
Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid, and Red Hood is far from the right person for such a job.
But Crime Alley isn’t all that Gotham is, and perhaps Jason Todd could very easily decide to get an apartment in a nicer area.
He won’t lie to himself, he knows he isn’t parent material, but he’ll at least be a step up from what the kid is used to while he works to vet a real family to transfer him to. 
He’s halfway through his mental checklist of the options for the safest place for an apartment and other such logistics when he’s reminded of where he is by Oracle’s voice in his ear.
“Hate to interrupt the group brooding you guys have going on over there, but I managed to dig up… a lot of information about the boy and his family situation.”
He notes how the others all perk up from where they’d been…staring at him. 
Ah, that was why it was so quiet. They were staring in disbelief when he didn’t deny the nephew thing. Well. A conversation for another time.
“Lay it on me,” he says to Oracle, ignoring them.
“His name is Daniel James Fenton, goes by Danny, high grades throughout elementary and middle school until they took a steep drop at the beginning of highschool - likely related to whatever happened when his metagene activated. 
Has one sibling, a sister named Jasmine Fenton - no middle name. She goes by Jazz. High grades across the board with no notable dips. No indication of possible metagene in any of  her records or in Danny’s, beyond the grade drop and your own first-hand experience.
Parents Jack and Madeline “Maddie” Fenton. They have their own personal website where they describe themselves as “ectobiologists” and as ghost hunters. The pictures in their gallery show a vast array of weapons - dubbed “ectoweapons” - in the same chrome-green style with the name “Fenton” stamped somewhere on them. Some of the weapons are for sale on their site, advertised for defending oneself against ghosts. There are some pictures of what must be their lab, all of which look to include at least 12 different types of OSHA violation, and the image in their site’s “about” section has the whole family standing in the lab in front of what looks like a vertical Lazarus Pit.”
“What,” Batman says more than asks, voice tense.
“And judging by the staircase seen reflecting off of one of the guns in the picture, it seems that this lab is in their basement - I can’t see why it wouldn’t be, given they were fine with putting an enormous monstrosity of a satellite on top of their building.
There are plenty of cameras in the house itself, but for some reason all I can get from them is static. Any video or audio in the house that they don’t put on their site appears to be unusable for some reason. 
All told, there is plenty of cause to get CPS involved. If their lab safety is even half as bad as it looks and it’s in their basement it’s pretty much a sure thing that the kids’ll be taken from them. 
Given the small-towny nature of the area it’ll be best to contact someone from outside of the community for the case. It’ll move things along significantly if we have somewhere to send them.
They have an aunt, Alicia Walker, but she’s already marked down as a “no” for taking them in in the event something should happen to the Fentons. 
This leaves their godfather: Vlad Masters. An incredibly reclusive billionaire, pursued the same Paranormal Science degree as the Fentons did when they were in college, but suffered an accident that put him in the hospital for two years with an unknown illness that Masters was allowed to name “ecto-acne.” Lost all contact with the Fentons until he invited them to a reunion party last fall and was named godfather three weeks later.
Masters got his wealth through a series of suspicious business deals. No one has been able to prove foul play yet, but just glancing over some of the early papers is already showing plenty of inconsistencies.
No other relatives - the Walker parents passed away some time ago, and while one of the Fentons remains, she’s in a nursing home. And also disowned Jack. And went out of her way to disown both Jazz and Danny as soon as she heard about them.”
“Great. Make Jason Todd a long lost cousin, set CPS on them. Red Hood is here because Danny ran away to Gotham and stuck his nose in crime alley so I tracked him down because I thought he was kidnapped in my territory, the Bats chased down Red Hood thinking he was gonna hurt the boy, CPS is there because your research turned up the potential unsafe living conditions and you overheard that the kid was gone for a week without anyone noticing - which scream neglect. Now we’re cooperating because we’re all annoyed at the parents that let their kid wander all the way to Gotham and convinced him that a torture device was a possible grounding option.”
He turns to Batman. 
“You can claim to have done a DNA search to find the connection, and I’m sure you can find a reason to dismiss Masters as an option. Make sure to have them call Jason as soon as possible. Oracle-”
“Already routing incoming calls through Gotham. Also, both of Masters’ residences have inaccessible cameras similar to what I’m experiencing with the Fentons. He can be dismissed under suspicion of having an OSHA nightmare in his home. I’ll see if he has his own vertical Lazarus Pit while you all work on exfiltrating the niece and nephew.”Jason doesn’t dignify that with a response, hopping back on his bike to follow the new route - this time actually to the Fenton household.
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gold-dustwomxn · 4 months
Text
mystified
part 4
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summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
cw: violence, alcohol consumption, smoking weed, smut mdni!!!!
oral (e receiving), strap (r receiving)
angst fluff and smut
a loud chiming paired with vibrations has you jumping up, hand pressed flat against your racing heart. your rude alarm blares into your ear as you groan into your pillow. shit never fails to scare you half to death time every single time. as you lay in your bed and wipe away the sleep from your eyes, your mind floods with ellie ellie ellie. you’ve been with her practically everyday and you can’t seem to get enough of her. she’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep.
ellie🌿🗡️: Morning babe. I hope you have a good day. Try to pay attention in class instead of texting me. I’ll see you later🖤
me: good morninggg💗 i’ll try my best for u 🫡 try not to get injured at work again
you giggle and feel those butterflies in your stomach again. it’s pathetic how giddy she makes you feel from a simple text.
dina🤍: are u and ellie coming to the party tonight? istg if u say no
me: uggh idk. u know I hate those college parties
dina🤍: cmonnn u guys never come out. youve both been holed up in a lesbian fuck fest for like 2 weeks straight
me: LMAO stfu. fine I’ll ask ellie if she wants to go
ellie grudgingly agrees to go to said party for your sake, and because she’s been neglecting her friendship with jesse just a little bit— too preoccupied with wanting to spend as much time as possible with you, and you her.
she decides she’ll stay sober for the night so she can drive and keep an eye on you. as you walk into the party hand in hand, you’re flooded with an overwhelming stench of alcohol and weed, strobing lights and music so loud that you feel the bass thumping in your chest. it’s too fucking crowded and hot. you need a drink to loosen up.
“well, well, well, would you look at who the cat dragged in.” jesse smirks at the two of you, receiving a double eye roll from both you and ellie. “who the fuck speaks like that anymore jesse?” ellie says with a laugh. “just good to see you alive in the flesh and all.” dina giggles and attacks you with a warm hug.
she steals your attention away from ellie, fiddling with your shirt with a goofy smirk. you laugh and narrow your eyes, “what is it?” dina leans in closer to whisper, “so, what’s the deal with you two.. are you official yet?”
you look at ellie to make sure she isn’t watching and whisper, “no, we haven’t.. labeled anything? I don’t know.. I mean, I do wanna make it official, but I don’t wanna scare her away, you know? kinda just letting it play out and see what happens.”
she looks at you, unamused. “stop being a pussy, you guys have been in love with each other for years. It’s not like she’s some random girl that you just met.” you roll your eyes, “relaxxx, it’ll happen when it happens.” dina laughs and shakes her head, “whatever you say. I need another drink.”
as she walks over to mix a gross concoction of god knows what, your eyes drift back to ellie who is preoccupied, deep in conversation with jesse. your eyes wander over every inch of her, biting your lip. her muscles are pulled taut against her flannel, jeans tight around her thighs, intoxicating green eyes glowing from the flashing lights in the room. one drink has you so fucking horny, it’s ridiculous.
ellie catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, “you good, babe?” she chuckles. you look away, trying to save face. “yup, I’m feeling good. can you come with me to the bathroom?” she nods with no hesitation, innocently thinking that you just want her to stick close by.
as soon as the door closes, you pull her tightly against you by the loopholes of her jeans and slam your lips into hers. she freezes for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly catches up, slipping her tongue into your mouth with a groan and sliding her hands down to squeeze your ass.
she then tugs at your hair, pulling your head back, breathless and takes a look at your glossy eyes, and down at your swollen lips. “what do you think you’re doing, huh?” she rasps out, smirking. you lean in, placing wet, needy kisses on her neck, pawing and squeezing at her biceps, “I wanna go down on you so bad right now.” you practically whine in her ear.
she chuckles, “right now? in here?” she looks around the bathroom, scrunching up her face. “we’ve been here for like a half hour, babe.”
you cup her through her jeans, watching her breath get heavy, “c’mon, don’t you wanna feel my mouth on you?” you pout.
she removes your hand and pulls you tight against her, brushing your hair to the side, placing a kiss on your neck. you whimper as she licks a slow stripe up to the sweet spot behind you ear, giving it a small suck.
“you’re gonna be a good girl for me and wait until later.” she whispers into the shell of your ear, making you shudder. you mentally curse her for having more self control than you, while ellie mentally curses herself because she’s horny as fuck now, but loves teasing you. “ugh, fine, ellie.” she chuckles and pats your cheek, leaning in to give you one more lingering kiss.
dina being dina convinces you to take multiple shots of tequila with her while ellie stands with jesse watching the both of you dance, laughing in amusement at the two of you.
as the night goes on, you start to stumble. ellie grabs onto you, “hey, baby, I think it’s time you lay off the drinks now, huh?” she chuckles at you. you wrap your arms around her neck and nod, “mhmm, I’m getting tired. can we leave soon?” you slur out. she nods, wrapping her arms around your waist, “yeah, we can go now.”
after you say your goodbyes to dina and jesse, you walk behind ellie, trying to make your way through the sea of bodies to head out.
all of a sudden, you feel a hand squeeze your ass and you gasp, stumbling into ellie. you turn around and see a guy grinning, reeking of booze. “don’t fucking touch me!”
ellie turns around and takes in the scene, her face morphing into one of rage. she places you behind her and shoves him hard against his chest. “back the fuck up,” she grits out.
he laughs mockingly. “oh, what, is this your bitch?” time seems to stop for a moment, a chill traveling down your spine as you watch her face drop, making you suddenly feel stone cold sober.
ellie punches him square in the face, making him stumble back. people begin to move out the way, circling them, whooping and hollering as if it’s a fucking show.
he lunges at her, trying to hit back. she catches his wrist and twists his arm, as she elbows him in the face, making him fall down and grab his now seemingly broken nose.
your jaw drops as you watch ellie climb on top of him, knee to his chest as she throws punch after punch. “ellie! stop!” she doesn’t hear you, doesn’t even seem to be present in her own body.
jesse hears the commotion and runs into the room. he grabs ellie, trying to pull her off of him “ellie, stop! you got him! you’re gonna get arrested if you don’t stop!”
ellie stands up, chest heaving as she flexes and shakes out her aching hand, knuckles bloody. she looks at you, her gaze softening with guilt as she takes in your upset demeanor.
you look around at all of the people staring, and grab ellie’s arm. “c’mon, we’re leaving. now.” she looks at you as you swiftly walk ahead of her to her car. “I’m sorry-“
you cut her off, “ellie, what the fuck?! you can’t just go around beating the shit out of people like that.”
she huffs and throws her arms up in the air defensively, looking as if she was about to speak, but stops herself.
“you looked like you were gonna kill him.”
she scoffs “I wasn’t gonna kill him.” you turn to look at her, “well, if jesse hadn’t been able to stop you, who knows what would’ve happened.”
she looks down at her tattoo and rubs the skin, “guys like him need to learn that they can’t get away with shit like that! and... and seeing him look so fucking proud of himself… looking at you like you were a piece of fucking meat.”
you observe her digging her nails into her tattoo and realize where her mind is drifting off to. you stop walking and grab her face, speaking softly. “look at me. I’m safe and you’re safe. I understand that you wanna protect me, but you can’t lose it like that, okay? you need to learn to walk away unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t want you getting into trouble.”
she looks between your eyes and nods, grabbing gently onto one of your wrists. “okay. I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s over now. everything’s okay.” you nod at her slowly and lean in to peck her lips. “c’mon, let’s go back to your place so I can clean you up.”
“you don’t have to-“ you cut her off with a semi-serious glare and she nods.
on the drive home, she rubs your thigh softly and takes small glances at you. she chews on her bottom lip anxiously, thinking about how you’re able to ground her. her chest tightens with shame— you shouldn’t have to deal with her issues.
ellie stands between your legs as you sit on top of the sink, cleaning her knuckles gently with deep concentration. she watches you and thinks about how she’s falling for you, hard. she’s never felt this way about someone before and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t scare her a little. her thoughts are interrupted as you finish and kiss the inside of her wrist. she gives you a soft smile when you look up at her and leans in to kiss you, “thanks, babe.”
ellie plucks away at her guitar as she smokes a joint while you lay there sipping on water and watch her in comfortable silence. unbeknownst to you, her mind races, picturing the look on your face after she basically bashed that guys face in.
she doesn’t think she deserves someone good and sweet like you. the idea of letting you go fucking crushes her, but it’s better to let you decide if you wanna end things now before the two of you get more serious, as if you’re both not in deep already.
she takes a hit of her joint and places her guitar to the side, laying a shaky palm on your thigh. “hey... I’m sorry about earlier.” you shake your head, “it’s okay, I promise. I’m not upset anymore.”
she looks down for a moment before looking back at you, “it’s just... you don’t deserve to have to deal with my bullshit. I understand if you don’t wanna… do this anymore.” she gestures between the two of you and fidgets nervously with her fingers.
you sit up quickly and grab her hand, stroking her knuckles. “is that what you want?” she looks at your teary eyes and shakes her head immediately. “no, no, it’s not what I want. but I want you to do what’s best for you.”
“ellie, I really like you. I’m not afraid of baggage, you don’t have to push me away.”
she looks at you, unconvinced. “I’m a fucking mess, ___. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it yet, but I’m not the easiest person to be around sometimes.”
“and you know what’s best for me?”
“no, I’m not saying that. I just-” she throws her hands up, trying to figure out how to convey what she’s feeling.
“you’re not some broken, cold hearted person, ellie. I can decide for myself what’s good for me. you’re good for me.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” she whispers, eyes tearing up.
you inch closer to her on your hands and knees and give her a soft, lingering kiss.
“then, don’t.” you whisper against her lips and pull back.
she looks back at you in silence for a few moments in a daze, completely enamored with you.
you give her a teary smile and let your words settle in for her, “plus, it’s kinda hot seeing you like that. you still haven’t taught me more self defense moves like you said you would, you know.” you laugh trying to make her feel better. she lets out a weak chuckle and shakes her head.
“no, but seriously,” you place your palm on her cheek to keep eye contact, making sure she takes in your sincerity, “I lo- like you.. a lot and I wanna be with you, okay? we all have our issues. you’ll have to stick around if you wanna see mine,” you smile. ellie’s ears perk up, wondering if she was just imagining that you almost said you love her. she chuckles and nods, “okay,” she whispers, “so does this mean you wanna be my girlfriend then?”
you look at her in mock offense, “is that how you’re gonna ask me?”
she laughs, “okay, okay.” she clears her throat and straightens out her back. “___, would you like to be my girlfriend?”
you can’t help but laugh at her attempt to be serious. “yeah, I’ll be your girl.”
she gives you a wide grin and cups your face, giving you a passionate kiss.
you both pull away breathless. “you know.. I think we should consummate this relationship.”
she laughs and raises an eyebrow, “oh yeah? and how’s that?”
“well.. for one, I didn’t get to do what I wanted to earlier.”
“mhmm, you are right about that. go ahead baby.”
as ellie lays on her back, you kiss along her stomach down her v-line to her inner thighs, each kiss making her muscles tense up.
“c’mon, enough teasing.” she huffs, breath heavy with glossy eyes.
you shake your head in defiance and she grabs onto your jaw. “be good.” she says sternly, but strokes your cheek gently with her thumb.
she watches you lick a stripe up her wet folds and her eyes roll back, letting out a shaky breath.
“s-stick your tongue out, baby.”
you flatten your tongue and she takes a fistful of your hair, slowly bucking her hips against your face. “jesus.. fuck. love your fucking mouth so much.”
looking up at her with doe eyes, you moan, and she grunts, “s-so perfect for me. making me feel so good, baby.”
you bob your head up and down with her thrusts, and suck hard on her clit, making her whimper unwillingly. “oh fuuuuck. good fucking girl, don’t stop.”
she grips your hair tighter and grinds faster against your face, head falling back into the pillows and swallowing hard. “gonna cum.. fuck!”
finally her body seizes up, her hole clenching around your tongue as her arousal seeps into your mouth. “holy fuck.” she breathes out shakily. “fuckin-“ she grunts, “swallow all of it.” she holds your head in place, rocking slowly as you happily lap up every inch of her cum. “yeah.. good girl.” you pull back and brush your fingers over her thighs with a love drunk smile.
she pants and looks down at you with furrowed brows, swiping her thumb across your glossy lips, spreading around her slick and your saliva before sticking her thumb into your mouth. you suck on it and she closes her eyes, sighing.
you climb on top of her, kissing her deeply, both of you moaning into the kiss. “wait,” she pulls back.
“what?” you whine at the loss of her lips against yours.
she chuckles and sits up, opening her nightstand drawer and pulls out a box. “how would you feel if I used this on you?”
you examine the unopened box and your eyes widen when you see what’s inside, making your thighs squeeze together. “yeah-yes.” you stutter.
she laughs and traps you with her legs to flip you on your back, “yes, what?”
you yelp and giggle, “you can use it on me.” she grins and leans in to kiss you.
after ellie coaxes multiple orgasms out of you with her mouth and fingers, she gets up to grab the strap, adjusting the harness around her. “okay, you sure you want it?”
you swallow hard in nervousness and excitement. “y-yeah I want it. just go slow.”
she leans down and gives you a soft kiss. “of course, baby.”
ellie lubes up the dildo and strokes the shaft before settling between your shaky legs, giving them small kisses. “you nervous?” you nod, “mhm, a little.”
she caresses your thighs and gives them gentle squeezes, “it’s okay, I’ll be gentle and if you want me to stop just tell me, okay?” you nod, “okay.”
as she slides the strap up and down your folds, you let out a whimper and spread your legs further apart. she has to bite down hard on her lip to hold back a moan.
“you ready?”
“yeah,” your breath gets heavier in anticipation.
she slowly inches her way in while rubbing small circles on your clit, eyes focused on your face. when your eyes start to tear up, she leans down and peppers soft kisses all over your face. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”
as she bottoms out, you both moan in unison. “you okay?”
“y-yes, you can move.”
ellie starts out with a slow pace, rolling her hips into you, gradually going deeper and harder with each thrust. she feels her own arousal pooling as she watches your face twist in pleasure and the view of your cunt sucking her in.
“fuck, ellie, g-go faster please,” you moan out. ellie smirks at your words, "my pleasure, sweet girl."
she wraps your legs around her waist and starts to increase the pace and vigor of her thrusts, pounding into you hard and fast. you can feel every inch of her as she slides in and out of you, filling you up with such intensity that has you moaning uncontrollably. she groans “you look so fucking good like this,” leaning down to kiss you messily, panting into each other mouths.
she watches you with heavy lids, drunk off of the sounds of your moans and the wet sounds of your cunt. “feels good, pretty girl?”
“mmph. so good, ellie. so good.”
as she starts to increase her pace even more, you grip onto her shoulders tightly, pulling her chest to yours, sinking your nails into her skin.
“taking me s-so fucking well baby, knew you could do it.” she feels herself getting lost in her own pleasure as the base of the strap bumps against her clit just right.
your body starts to tremble against hers, with ellie having to work harder to thrust in and out of you, your moans turning into high-pitched whimpers, and she knows you’re close.
“el-ellie! fuck, I’m gonna-” she holds onto you tightly and watches you as you slip into ecstasy, and can’t help but moan herself. she thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking like this. and that view alone is enough to make her eyes roll back, triggering her own orgasm. her hips sputter as she slaps into you, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.
she lifts her head and lets out ragged breaths, her eyes glazed over, “you did so good for me, baby.” she kisses your forehead gently.
leaning on her elbows, she stares down at you, eyes mapping out every inch of your face, completely infatuated.
“I lo-“ she stops herself, it’s too early to say I love you. or is it? you’ve known each other for years, and she could’ve sworn you almost said it earlier. she decides against it, not wanting to ruin the moment.
you run your hand through her hair and brush your nose against hers, “say it,” you whisper. she looks between your eyes and swallows thickly.
“I love you,” she whispers shakily.
you lift your head, slotting your lips against hers in a slow, passionate kiss.
“I love you, too.”
tysm for reading ily all 💗💗
taglist: @me-and-your-husband @fireflyels @cinnamonmilf
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thesirencult · 5 months
Text
X-MAS WITH YOUR FS.
PART 1 : UNDER
THE MISTLETOE
Kisses With Your FS
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We are in a holiday mood ladies and gents! I decided to create a series of holiday readings centered around our FS. The kiss under the mistletoe, what gift your future spouse would buy you, spending holidays with them, a Christmas getaway etc.
Sit back with your hot cocoa and relax !
Santa came early this year 🦌
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PILE 1
Kissing with your FS feels like home. Their hands wrapped around your waist remind you of hallmark movies you watched when you were a young kid, fantasizing about that kiss under the mistletoe.
Your FS is gentle and caring. They are all sugar, no spice and their kisses show just that.
Love, adoration and dedication. Your FS will kiss you slowly. Sometimes they will steal a kiss while putting up the lights and while you are baking cookies. They will always keep it PG, especially if others are present.
Your FS reminds me of Ryan from Castle. He is honourable, simple and affectionate yet super smart and ready to kick some a$$ if he needs to. They could actually look like him or if they are a woman they will be fair skinned and have light eyes, even if they are brown they will be on the lighter side. Also, if they are a woman they would be a lot like Sookie from True Blood.
Remember what I said about the spice? I take it back, a tiny bit. They can get spicy but in the most sweetest way. They are good boys/girls/theys. The type you take home to mama. They could even work in the military/fire department/police force.
Kissing them will make you feel safe and secure. No one would ever be able to take that feeling away from you both. Give em a peck from me too. They for sure deserve it !
Under the mistletoe they will get giddy and excited. Their smile is amazing, like Colgate type of smile and you will love seeing how happy they get around you and right before they kiss you. They will look like a schoolgirl/schoolboy, a kid stealing a cookie from the jar. Stealing kisses is how they will show how naughty they are. I just know who wears the pants in this relationship and news flash, it is not them, lol.
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PILE 2
I can tell you one thing before I say anything about kissing.
Your FS finds you adorable. See that cat in the picture ? All cuddled up, not a care in the world, not a single thought behind those sleepy eyes.
Within every room you are the main event, at least for them. Actually, your FS will love kissing you when you are sleepy.
In general, the way you will find safety in their arms and ignore the whole world will drive them crazy. This shows me that your the way your FS kisses will make you feel loved and safe. It will also make you feel like a playful kitten. Your FS could be masculine (doesn't have to be a man) and they will make you feel safe to express your vulnerability and femininity.
They will not only love kissing your lips, they will love kissing your whole face and your hands/fingers. They will want to eat you up.
For them it will be pretty funny you melt into their arms cause you could be a very feisty person but with them you turn into a big baby.
I'm seeing a meme with a cat fighting with another cat and then going back to their mother and cuddling up like a baby.
Others will be like "Girl/boy/they who are you trying to fool?" And your person will say "Shhh they are sleeping. Don't mess with my baby." Meanwhile, over their shoulder you give the other person a hiss, lol.
Are you my "black cat 🐈‍⬛ energy" pile ? Well your person might be a whole tiger cause they seem to be thinking you are harmless and deserve every little kiss. This is giving "I'm a bad boy but I'll be good only with you." trope. Also, major Morticia and Gomez vibes. Height difference might be huge.
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(Yup, that below is indeed you.)
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imasoftieforbarb · 6 months
Text
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Clay introducing you as his fiancé
Branch, Bruce and John Dory had just reunited with their brother Clay
“Clay this is my girlfriend Poppy-!”
Poppy rushed forward to hug Clay, before quickly letting go and nervously rambling in front of one of her idols
“Hi Clay! It’s so nice to meet you!… could you do the rusty robot for me?”
Clay awkwardly refused but decided to give it a go after seeing her slight embarrassment
“That’s still pretty fun” Poppy said, more relaxed now
“Yup same old Clay” JD said giving his brother a knowing look
“Noooo- that’s not true, if I was still fun would I have chosen the admin house as my bed room” Clay pointed towards a tiny shack that was slightly isolated from everyone else
“Eh? Eh?” He said, knowing he’d won the argument
Viva then stepped forward
“Yeah- but Y/n’s gonna make you move to her house cause, let’s be honest that’s way to small for the both of you”
“Y/n? Who’s Y/n?” Bruce asked looking at Clay who seemed to radiate happiness at the mention of this mysterious person
“Oh! I’ll go get her!” Clay ran off towards a golf statue of a frog as his brothers looked at each other with confusion
Soon, Clay returned with another troll in tow, she seemed to be wearing a matching sweater dress instead of a romper
“Y/n these are my brothers- Spruce who goes by Bruce now, John Dory and Branch!”
“oh you’re his brothers?! That’s so cool- come here gimmie a hug or high-five!”
She went around the group giving hugs and high-fives to those who wanted them
When she reached Poppy she instigated a handshake that they both seemed to know off by heart
“What just happened?” Poppy whispered to Branch who shrugged his shoulders
“And guys this is Y/n- my fiancé”
Shocked silence before congratulations were shouted from everyone in the group
“When did this happen?” Bruce said laughing slightly
Im gonna do a part 2 of this
Bug 🐞
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
Note
if reqs r closed pls ignore this sorry im genuinely so blind so idk if u were taking them rn, but can i request “the captain will have to get involved pretty soon” situation from that fic where a new lieutenant joins, overall just like a part 2 where price does have to get involved 😭😭 like ghost is just so annoyed with this man
Hey reader! 🍫 No need to worry; I don’t have a “policy” on requests apart from the nsfw thingy (i don’t know how to write smut). Whatever comes, I accept it wholeheartedly! :)
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Synopsis: Ghost and the new Lt. get in a fight. Price handles the situation accordingly and nobody is happy.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader, Captain John Price
Word Count: 1,112
Notes:
For those who haven’t read Part 1, here it is.
Lots of swearing and mentions of physical injuries. Other than that, it’s fluff.
Want more?
———————————————————————
Yup. Unfortunately, the Captain had to get involved in the end.
Not just him, though; an entire room full of trained soldiers had to jump in and separate Ghost from almost strangling Lt. Wilson, or “Mr Toothless,” as he often referred to him.
Why “Mr Toothless”, you may ask? Well, Ghost decided to baptize the new lieutenant with that nickname for a couple of reasons. 
First, he took your comment about Wilson’s fake teeth to heart. “If they’re fake,” he reasoned, “that means the fucker is already toothless and wears veneers to cover ’em up.”
And when you told him that’s not true since some people undergo cosmetic surgery to improve something they might have suffered an injury from, Ghost came up with his second reason as to why the new lieutenant is—or rather will be—toothless.
“Might have suffered an injury?” He contemplated. “Well, he’s about to suffer another one when I knock them out again.”
So, it was either “Mr. Toothless over there” or “Mr. Future Toothless one again.” Whatever the case, Ghost never called him by his real name, which started to piss off Lt. Wilson a whole lot. And that’s how it all escalated.
The breaking point came while at the briefing room, with Price at the head of the table and the two lieutenants seated across from each other. The rest of the team was strategically scattered around, avoiding being too close to Riley or Wilson. They were like furnaces, ready to burst at any time and burn you along with them, so you all figured it was best to stay as far away from them as possible.
Price was dividing the teams for the new mission: Team Alpha (Ghost’s Team) had to reach the target’s point by air, while Team Bravo (Wilson’s Team) would travel by land. The tipping point was when Price absentmindedly assigned you to Wilson’s team. Being Ghost’s Achilles’ heel, you were enough to light up a spark in the furnace. Wilson, on the other hand, was, in fact, a motherfucker. He knew that you, being assigned to his team, would piss Ghost off, so he turned towards you and winked upon hearing your name.
“Awesome,” he said, “doll’s with me.”
“Call them a doll again,” Ghost replied, “and I’ll make you as shiny and smooth as a Ken.” A threat that seemed nonsensical then but became clearer over time. And it wasn’t funny at all. See, Ken dolls lack organs, including a brain, heart, and, as Ghost hinted, a certain... anatomical feature.
And, as you stand in front of Ghost at Price’s office, tending to his cut lip and bruised eye, questions swirl in your mind. First and foremost, why is Ghost so obsessed with Lt. Wilson’s bones and limps? How was he planning to execute such a horrendous action? And how did he manage to leap onto the table and kick Wilson in the face like Leonidas did in the movie “300”?
“You fucked up big time, Simon,” Price warns Ghost as he paces around the room with his hands on his waist.
“He started it,” Ghost retorts.
“No,” Price shouts, running towards Ghost and inching away from his bruised-up face, “you landed the first kick, and then things escalated faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”
Ghost sighs. “How is he?” He asks.
You look at him, shocked. This guy amazes you. All he wanted was to kick Wilson right in the face, and now he’s worried about his health.
“He is fucked; that’s how he is,” Price replies, “and you’re fucked too.”
“What’ll happen now?” Ghost asks
Price lets out a sharp chuckle. Not one of entertainment, for sure. Something that hints you’re both about to find out.
“I’m relieving Lt. Wilson of his duties in the field and relocating him to another position,” the Captain announces.
“Good,” Ghost replies. “At least he’ll be out of my business for a while.”
“Oh, on the contrary brother,” Price smirks, “he’ll be all up in your business now.”
You stop treating Ghost’s wound and turn to Price. “W-where exactly are you relocating, Lt. Wilson, Captain?” You ask, confused.
Price approaches you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, now both facing Ghost.
“I’m putting Wilson in the same office as you two,” Price says, smiling. “That is until you and him sort out your… issues.”
Ghost doesn’t react. He stretches his neck while looking at Price.
“You think I wouldn’t find out what the apple of discord was?” Price whispers at Ghost, “You and him either become best friends, or you’re both out.” He says. He removes his hand from your shoulder, adjusts his hat, nods at you, and walks out of the room.
You turn towards Ghost, who’s now leaning on his legs, looking at the floor.
“Look at me,” you command, “I still need to patch that lip of yours.”
He obeys and looks up. You sigh. As much as you trust Price and his strategic decision to put the three of you in the same room, you fear that the ball is now in your field. Juggling Ghost’s outbursts was something you learned to handle with skill and prowess. But including Lt. Harris in the equation is like putting two starving lions in a cage with an antelope.
“Why?” You ask, as you treat his bottom lip, “Why act so stupidly when you know it is you that I fancy?”
He looks away and shrugs. “He called you a doll.”
“And look where we are now, Simon,” you say. “Price gave you your last chance, and we get to have Mr Toothless with us at the office.”
“Won’t be an office anymore, love,” he mutters, “it’ll be a dollhouse full of Barbie and Ken dolls.”
You smile and lift his chin up with your fingers. “So, if I’m Barbie and he’s Ken,” you say, bringing your face closer to his, “who are you?”
“Oh, I’m Action Man, love.” He says and tries to wink with a swollen, already shut, black eye.
———————————————————————
Part 3 ->
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yurislotusgarden · 7 months
Text
Wearing their Clothes, Part 2
ʚїɞ Separately! Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma x Reader
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ Part 1 for those who want to read it <3
ʚїɞ word count: 1164 (Fyodor - 329, Nikolai - 368, Sigma - 461)
ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, pet names used, reader's gender is not specified in any way, probably ooc but I live for soft characters
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Fyodor Dostoevsky
No matter what, you getting his ushanka won't be an accident or a surprise for this Man. He probably knew for quite a long that you wanted to try it on.
Probably would make sure that you won't get it for Some time just to tease you and see your reactions to failing. 
Once he decided he had enough torturing teasing you, he would leave the ushanka on a chair or the bed, in a way that it looks like he for once, doesn't have it in the bathroom with him (Yes the rat showers even if forced) and just left it there. 
So, you obviously had to take your chance and try it on.
////////////////////
"Myshka, what are you doing?"
He definitely came out faster than you anticipated. You spun around, looking like a deer caught in headlights. To say that you took off the ushanka at the speed of light would be an understatement. 
"Ehm... Nothing?" A raised eyebrow. 
"Nothing you say."
 "Yup! Absolutely nothing! Was just looking if my eyebrows are equal!" A dumb response? Very much. Did you care? Not in the slightest, not right now. 
"So my ushanka in your hand doesn't exist?" Fyodor started to walk up to you as he said that. 
You threw the ushanka onto the bed in a hurry. "I don't know what are you talking about Fedya" 
"Sure you don't" 
Fyodor picked up the ushanka from where it lies and put it gently onto your head, fixing the few strands of hair that fell on your face. Are you hallucinating or do you see a small smile on his face? 
"You look nice in it, Myshka" 
“Really?”
“Of course, I wouldn't lie to you after all.”
You looked better in the ushanka than the dark-haired Man first thought, to say the least. And if he told you that you can wear it whenever you want, then no one needs to know, yeah?
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Nikolai Gogol 
The little shit /affectionate I swear 
He probably knows you wanna steal either his hat or his cape, but wouldn't give you an opportunity to steal it just to see your reactions. It's amusing and he wants to see your emotions what can I say? 
I feel like the first time wouldn't be an accident but planned by him. Casually kidnapping taking you out in winter or just a colder day without letting you get warm clothes first, resulting in shivering and being cold soon enough. 
"Cold?" Came with a teasing smile from the clown. He knew what he was doing and had the audacity to tease. You swear you will hit him with something once you're back home. 
"Shut up, Kolya. Why did you even bring me out here so suddenly?" Your confusion was as clear as a clean glass. 
"Why, to have Some fun! Time for a quiz, dove!" 
"Oh no" 
You swear Nikolai loves giving you quizzes that no one but the rat Fyodor could get or guess. You could bet with the dark-haired Man in question and win the bet.
////////////////////
"And you lost once again!" 
"I did" You chuckled. As much as you lose, they certainly never feel like ones. "So what happens now that I lost?" A good question as every time you lose, Nikolai manages to make the 'punishment' -his Words not yours- a different one. 
"This!" 
And before you realized it, you felt something heavy on your shoulders, but it also was warm. Looking at yourself, you see that Nikolai put his cloak over you, and fucking hell if you could you would just curl up in a ball and sleep, or even hibernate in this shit. The material inside is softer and warmer than you thought, no wonder he doesn't get cold.
"Your cloak?" 
"Didn't you want to try it on, dove?" 
"Is that why you brought me out in this weather in my pajamas?" 
"Of course! How else could've I given you the honor of wearing my cloak?" 
"..."
"Dove?"
"...Listen here you little shit-"
////////////////////
Next week he whined all around, whether at home or at work, all because of you not cooking his favorite cookies that you do every week.
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Sigma
I had to think about what would you even steal from this Man but then I remembered this guy wears heels. 
You probably wouldn't need to think of it that much, it would probably be a random idea you got when noticing that he left them somewhere. I feel like he Has a big ass room in the Sky casino, an apartment more like, so getting the heels that would be left by the door wouldn't be hard at all.
////////////////////
You have to say, that even tho the heels don't fit perfectly on your feet, you are absolutely slaying the look. 
"I have to steal them more often goddamn" You mutter to yourself, looking in the mirror.
You continued to walk around a little, just for fun, the heels were more comfortable than you thought, and now your confusion about how does Sigma wears these every day and doesn't complain about feet hurting has been cleared up. 
"Name? Have you seen my heels?" Fuck. 
"No? Why?" From what you know he doesn't wear them after 10 pm (22), since people tend to not come to his office much after if anyone even does, so why is he searching for them at 11:30 pm (23:30)? It's almost midnight for fucks sake. 
"They need me down in the Main room, but I can't find them." 
"Maybe you left them somewhere else and don't remember?" 
"Maybe"
You thought you were safe when you heard him walking away… until you heard him walking directly to the bedroom where you were a few minutes later. 
'Shit-' You thought as you realized that and took if the heels, lightly throwing them under the bed so it looks like they were left there after being taken off by Sigma and kicked under by accident. 
You went back to standing in front of the mirror just as the Man Opened the door. 
"You sure you didn't see them?" 
"Yeah. Why?" 
"The heels are under the bed" Came the soft reply from Sigma, together with a finger pointed at the pair of shoes. 
You leaned down, making it look like you didn't know. 
"Oh, sorry love" To your pleasure a barely noticeable blush appeared on his cheeks due to the pet name. 
"Don't worry about it" A quiet response this time. Sigma Walked over to get the heels before putting them on. 
He stopped at the door before he walked out of the room and turned back to you. "I know you tried them on [name], just so you know." And casually Walked out. 
You want to jump from the window. Fuck. 
////////////////////
Sigma didn't mind, not at all. In fact, he bought you a matching pair of heels. It’s needless to say that this pair is one of your favorite shoes.
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Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated <3
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jojomiwbvb6 · 3 months
Text
Author's note: I thought this blurb up tonight and knew you guys will eat it up bc bitch, me too. (Yes the title is inspired by INK, but it fits)
The Shower Scene
Warnings: this is a work of fiction. NSFW, MDNI. Smut (18+) Swearing, voyeurism, descriptive, masturbation
Part 2 / Part 3
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You had a long day on tour. Load-in was exhausting. Every time you turned around, at least one mechanism had a glitch or a cable went haywire. At least 2 malfunctions during the concert that they spent 10 minutes fixing. By the time load-out commenced, you were flat on your face and crawling to the bus.
The Bad Omens bus was as homey and fun as they could make it on the road. Tomorrow they had a day off in Denver, Colorado, and decided to venture the city for the day. As the bus pulled up to their nightly hotel, the crew, including you, and the band gathered their bags and got ready to depart the bus.
"Dude, I'm so ready to lay in that goddamn bed, I'm so fuckin' tired," Ruffilo commented.
"Fuck yeah, Albuquerque fucked me up." Folio responded.
"I'm gonna take the hottest fucking shower. The devil himself wouldn't be able to take the heat." You said.
This earned a chuckle from a few of the guys around you.
Noah walked up behind his bandmates. His face was calm, devoid of having any idea of what he could be thinking. He briefly ran his eyes over you, quickly looking away into the shadows.
Noah was always so cool, calm, and collected. He was so talented and funny and so, so fine. Of course you would never tell him how much you would say yes to him bending you over if he asked for it.
--
Holding your key in hand, you walk down the stale smelling hallway until you reach your door. You slide the key card into the slot, the door clicks, and you let yourself in.
You're looking at the floor before observing the room, rolling your suitcase into the door. You notice the light is already on and-- "oh my fucking god dude, you scared the shit out of me!"
Noah smirks and gives you a laugh. "Good,"
You blush, and quickly look for something else to look at.
"I know that normally we wouldn't room together," he paused, maybe noticing I was holding my breath. But he continued, "But the hotel was short a room, and we got stuck together last minute." He stopped again.
You nodded, trying to act like you normally do.
"If you're uncomfortable..." He began to say, unsure.
"No, Noah. Not at all. We bunk in the same bus. It's not like we're sleeping together."
There was a small silence that carried on slightly too long.
"Mmm. So, Imma take a shower," you said, ending the conversation with the man you were desperately trying not to want for the sake of your job.
You enter the bathroom, stepping out of your clothes. The door locked behind you, you stare at it and begin to overthink. The tension in your stomach gets you hot when you get the idea. You slowly unlock the door, slowly and silently turning the door handle and leaving the door cracked just a little.
The hot water hits your skin, steam rising into the air. You look at the door, there's nothing there. You shrug. It wouldn't work anyway, there's no way he's even gonna notice.
--
Noah looks down at his phone.
Hey, come get a drink downstairs, we at the bar.
The text from Davis lights up his phone. He texted back,
Yup be down in a minute dude.
Noah gets up from his bed and makes his way to the door, approaching the bathroom. He slows his tracks. Noticing that you had accidentally left the door cracked, Noah reaches out and goes to close the door. He looks up and just by accident, he gets a glimpse of the whole side of you.
You're closing your eyes, caressing yourself with the soap running down your breasts and to your hips. Everything all on display.
He knows that he should look away from you, but my God, the way your hands rub at your skin, his breath hitches and he's glued to his position.
--
After a few minutes of showering, you'd given up the small ounce of hope you had that your nasty fantasy faded and you began to really take a shower.
You applied the soap to your chest and stomach, rubbing the loofah against your skin. You scrubbed at your legs, and then when you glanced up, you almost didn't catch the tall silhouette in the shadow of the hotel room behind him. You did a double take, to make sure he was what you were seeing, and he was.
Your breath picked up. Smirking, you bit your lip and turned away from him. He didn't need to speak, and neither did you. He didn't have to know that you saw him, if he couldn't tell you did. No one in the band or crew needed to know he was in that door frame looking at your wet, naked body. And it's what you wanted.
You began to make every movement you made sexually charged. Pulling your hands over your breasts, you tugged on your nipples. Your fingers caressed and played with your breasts, rubbing the soap into them.
Dragging your fingers down to your navel, you squirmed. How much of a show did you want to give Noah? You decided you wanted him to remember just how hot you got with him standing there.
Not yet looking at him, you turn your back to the door. Rubbing your hands into your ass cheeks, gripping and spreading them only slightly. You bent over as you did this, sure to give him a little sneak peak of what you want him to see very soon.
You see his silhouette shift in the door over your shoulder, just knowing you have him right where you want him.
You turn around, finally letting your hand slide further down, and leaning against the back shower wall, you raise your leg to the ledge of the bath. You finally allow him your gaze and look at him completely as you spread your legs and sink your fingers into yourself, letting a small moan fall from your mouth.
You hear a quiet "Fuck," from the doorway and see his long, tatted fingers grip the door frame, revealing his presence from the shadows.
"Mm. I knew you were there," you said very quietly. He gave no response. You didn't look at him, continuing your movements into your pussy and letting Noah drink in every stroke and buck into your hand.
You continued to fuck onto your hand, gaining confidence under his silent watch. You turned your back to him again, bending over and putting your entire pussy on display for his viewing pleasure. Reaching underneath you, you begin rubbing yourself at a fast pace, small moans falling out of your mouth. You buck back on your hand again when you sink two fingers into yourself. You see Noah's fingers gripping the trim and more of his hand appears from the dark.
You gave him another treat by moaning "fuckkkk," and crying out. You swear you hear a growl from the doorway. The hand falls, palming a desperate hard on, but there's no way he wants what he is seeing to stop.
This was way too hot.
You took your fingers from your heat and placed them in your mouth, looking directly at the doorway. Dragging your hand over your pussy again, you finally lock eyes with his dangerous glinting eyes in the dark.
You insert a finger. "Oh, fuck," you smirk and tease as you talk. You look away, and pretending Noah isn't even there, you put in another finger. "Mmm..." And one more finger, you're brave enough to sigh, "Noahhh..."
At that, he storms into the bathroom. It's no longer a "secret" that he was standing there. His eyes are wicked and wild with a starving desire and he doesn't even hide the hard rise in his sweats. You're so hot and wet already, but it makes you tremble that he's here and has his eyes on your spread heat.
"Fuck..." You trail, gasping through your self assault that you didn't even stop when he surprised you with his barging in. You gasp, a moan coming out through your sentence. "Don't speak. Don't do anything. Just watch me, Noah. Fucking watch me... Please."
He does as you ask. He latches and locks the bathroom door, leaning back on the sink. Noah doesn't say a word. He doesn't touch himself, but his eyes feast on every single inch of you that's available to him.
You continue to touch and tease your body. Your fingers move faster and your heat is wetter with his presence in the room. Your moans are quiet but just loud enough for his ears. You see him run his eyes down your body with a slow lick of his lips.
Under his gaze, your fingers begin to move faster and your gasps come quicker. You're curling your fingers against that spot inside you, arching your back and giving him the best show possible.
"Ah, ah, ah," you chant, "Noah, fuck," you give to him, earning a small and satisfactory "mm." From Noah.
Your eyes roll back. Your hands are making your head spin and your stomach clench under his eyes as you rub your clit and bite your lip. His eyes never give way and stay locked on you. Sparks shoot through your body and your gasps never end. You see stars, your juices flowing down your legs. You're crumpled against the wall and panting.
Noah doesn't speak. He gives you one last burning, hot look, soaking the whole sight and everything that just happened into his mind.
He smirks at you, unlocks the door, and without saying a single word to you, he leaves the bathroom.
--
Noah. Dude. Thought you were coming down?
Text from Davis again.
Sorry man, I accidentally passed out for a minute. Be right there.
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talaok · 9 months
Note
Hi
Can you write one where the reader is drunk and pedro takes care of her?
Maybe like what happened in the fifty shades?and they are in a relationship together...
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
Warnings: you know the drill it aint smut but it alludes to it
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"I'm not drunk"
He smiled, as once again, you lied straight to his face.
"Sure you aren't sweetheart"
" 'm not" you pouted, gripping him for dear life as he helped you stumble into the house
"You're right" he nodded, watching your every move closely to make sure you didn't get hurt "now here, let's get you to bed"
"I don't wanna go to bed"
"well too bad baby, 'cause you're going"
You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to stare at him.
You had this look when drunk… like a veil on your eyes and a specific tilt of your mouth that made it so easy for him to figure you out every time.
And it was also one of the cutest and funniest things he’d ever seen.
“What exactly are we gonna do in bed?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle
“Not what you want I’m afraid”
“Why?” you moaned
“Because, sweetheart,” he spoke gently as he moved some hair out of your face “I don’t think you’re in the right conditions”
“I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout”
“No?”
“No idea”
You let one of your hands rake down his chest “I can be very persuasive y’know?”
“Oh I know” he nodded, a smile pulling at his lips
You were giving him your best Doe eyes with your smudged mascara and parted lips.
He would have agreed without a second thought if it wasn’t for the alcohol clearly still lingering in your organism.
“what do you say then, Mr. Pascal?” you tilted your head, caging your bottom lip between your teeth the way you knew drove him crazy.
This wasn’t his first rodeo, and there was one thing he had learned by now, there were two ways he could go about this:
1. He could keep arguing with you, trying to make you understand
2. He could lie and find a way to get you to bed, so that the second your head hit the pillow you would finally understand how right he had been this whole time and fall asleep in a second.
“C’mere” he decided, pulling you closer by your waist and meeting your lips with his.
You let out a giggle as you intertwined your arms behind his neck.
“What are you laughing at?” he smiled
“You” You gave his lips a quick peck
“Oh yeah?” he challenged, half laughing
“Yup” you kissed his cheek “Mr. I don’t think you’re in the right conditions”
“Well, what can I say, You are very persuasive…”
You chuckled again, and he took it as an opportunity to pick you up, your legs wrapping around each side of his waist.
You nuzzled your head between his shoulder and neck, his manly scent wrapping around you like a cloud, and by the time you looked up, he had carried you to the bedroom.
He sat you on the bed, and you watched with anticipation as he got to his knees.
Except he didn’t do what you were expecting, no, he was taking off your heels.
“Baby” you whined
“Lay down” he spoke softly
You did. You loved when he got bossy.
The bed creaked as he got on it too.
He bent down to kiss you again and you felt his hands move around the bed, but once again, he didn’t do what you were expecting… you felt the blanket fall on your body.
“W-what?” you frowned, opening your eyes ”baby what are you doing?”
Pedro stoked your pretty face with his thumb, watching your eyes cloud with confusion.
“Getting you to bed” he said simply
“But-” you started before an over-dramatic gasp fled your throat “you tricked me!”
A smile painted his lips “I did, babydoll”
“I can’t believe this”
“I’m sorry baby, I’ll make it up to you in the morning”
“You better” you threatened, your eyelids already feeling heavier.
“I will” he promised, leaning away and out of bed.
“Where are you going?” you whimpered “Aren’t you gonna at least come to bed?”
He smiled, watching you struggle to speak through the drowsiness
“One second,” he told you, making quick work of his pants and shirt.
You let out a small chuckle “sexy” you teased
“I know, right?” he grinned, getting back in bed.
You wasted no time climbing closer to him, wrapping your leg around his and placing your head on his chest.
He didn’t call you Koala for nothing.
“Thank you for picking me up” you slurred after a moment of silence
“No problem, sweetheart” he kissed your hair “You can call me anytime you want if you need me, you know that”
You tightened your hold on him to mimic a hug.
“I love you” you promised
“I love you too baby” he murmured “I love you too” he said,
And then you were gone.
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nytb · 9 months
Text
Flying Private Part 2
A half season filled with pastries and about as much romance as in “The Hobbit” book later, Alexia decided to one up her gift-giving.
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Repeating the usual routine - Alexia embarked the private jet with a pep in her step – leaving a simple paper bag on top of the closest seat to the cabin, as usual. This time? No ensaimada was in sight. That beautiful doughy pastry dusted with a delightful sugar powder that Y/N adored. A simple box took it’s place inside the paper bag.
That was it, the hard part was done, or so Alexia thought.
An usual talkative Y/N entered the jet, starting polite conversation with all crew members, making a bee line for the cabin – the pilot stood dead on her tracks as she opened the bag. Was it guilt? Maybe disappointment? Surely the pilot wasn’t sad about the gift switch-up?
Oh- yeah, that’s it. Y/N pouted in Alexia’s direction. This was new.
“Open it” the midfielder instructed, a grin from ear to ear displayed on her face. Alexia was beyond proud of herself. For the first time in her interactions with Y/N, Alexia felt confident. Who wouldn’t like a watch?
“I can’t accept this Alexia” and that was all hopes out the window now. The midfielder always found a way to get on Y/N’s bad graces. What was so bad about a watch?
“It’s- It’s just a watch” the midfielder pleaded.
“Alexia, it’s a Rolex”
Oh- that makes more sense now.
Regardless, Alexia’s taste was impeccable. A simple gold bathed watch, a beautiful black plate decorated with small diamonds – representing the stars in the sky – It was the perfect gift for a pilot.
Realizing where she went wrong; that watch was probably worth Y/N’s rent for a full year, Alexia downplayed it’s value.
“They gifted it to me a while back, it’s been collecting dust ever since”
Little did the midfielder know, the receipt was still inside that very box.
“You see, I would believe you” the pilot approached Alexia “If only you hadn’t left this little, probably information-less piece of paper in here” Y/N’s voice filled with sass - she had deciphered Alexia.
That was bad.
“Oh wow” Malcolm, Y/N’s closest college, approached; inspecting the watch – taking all it’s beauty in – “Whoever gifted you this must like you, a lot”
Yup, it got even worse just then. Talk about someone rubbing salt in a wound.
For some reason, unbeknownst to us – not really but here we are – the trip felt a little too long. Random stares into teammates, a thoughtful Alexia pondered on how she could turn the situation around.
What had she done now? Is it that bad to gift a random pilot a simple watch? Ok, maybe it wasn’t a simple watch – and sure – it wasn’t just a random pilot; it was Y/N.
The sweet sound of wheels hitting the tarmac, the cute but scary bump as the plane landed – they had arrived.
The beautiful night sky with the beaming stars hiding among the clouds, Y/N stared up as she got out of the jet “Damn, nothing beats the beauty of a night sky”
“I know of something that can beat it” the confident Alexia was back.
“I told you, I can’t accept it”, yes just another hit to the abdomen delivered by yours truly, Y/N.
As the cute but aloof pilot made her way to the airport check-in a mischievous Malcolm approached “Something tells me that she wasn’t talking about the watch”
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dfortrafalgar · 27 days
Text
I'm Losing You
Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.
Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings.
Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock
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Chapter 10
[Prev] [Next]
Law might have run a red light on his drive back to your apartment.  Could you blame him?  There was no one on the road anyway, not at 2:00 in the morning.  He hoped you hadn’t stayed up for him, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than to enter his home, see you in the living room, and scoop you into his arms.  He had been so busy at the hospital that he couldn’t remember seeing you stand up since you left the emergency room, so the fact that you, not Shachi or Penguin, but you, called him earlier made his weary heart swell with hope and adoration.
He yanked the parking brake of his car upward and swiftly switched off the ignition, pulling his keys out, grabbing his bag, and practically sprinting across the dark parking lot to your building’s entrance.  He input his apartment code so fast his hands were shaking, bursting through the door and climbing the stairs skipping every other step as he ascended.  His heart was racing.  If he was in any worse shape, he might need a triple bypass.  His hands continued trembling as he stuck his house key into the lock, twisting it and pushing the heavy door open to finally enter your apartment.
His golden eyes lit up.
You were still awake, sitting on the couch with Bepo who was rolled over with his belly exposed.  You were munching on a chocolate chip cookie while you watched a rerun of an old science show on the television.  The force of Law entering the apartment with an anxious gusto made you jump in surprise, but you quickly smiled upon seeing your husband.
“Did you run up the stairs?” you asked, taking in his heaving chest and parted lips as he tried desperately to intake as much oxygen as he could.
Law simply dropped his bag, shed his coat, and rapidly paced towards you, pulling you off the couch by your hands and wrapping his arms around you.  He buried his head in your neck, squeezing his eyes closed, afraid that if he opened them he’d see you back in bed, refusing to look at him.  You kept your mouth shut at his actions, choosing instead to loop your own arms around his shoulders, squeezing him as tight as you could as you breathed in the sterile hospital odor from his clothes.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant,” you mumbled, your words muffled in the cotton of his clothing.
He immediately shook his head, his wispy black strands tickling the skin of your neck.  “Never apologize.  Never.”
You yelped as Law’s body lurched, his arms swooping down to scoop you into his arms, just like he did when you were his bride, to carry you back to the couch and flop down, placing you in his lap.  The force startled Bepo, who grunted before falling back into a content pseudo-slumber.  You kept your hands looped around Law’s neck as you leaned into his chest.
“I’m really happy you’re up…” he whispered.
You simply hummed.  “Me too.”
The two of you sat in silence for what easily could have been an eternity, the sounds from the television turning into monotonous background garble as your breaths synced up to his.  Law adored moments like this.  No responsibilities, no expectations, no distractions.  Just him and his wife.  You and your husband.
However, he still felt like he had to speak.  “So, about Friday…”
You visibly tensed in his lap.  “About Friday…”
“I have the day off, so I can go with you.”
You picked your head up, your eyes shining.  “Really?!”
Law nodded.  “Yup.”  He heavily debated bringing to light the conversation he had had with Robin in the emergency room but decided against informing you, assuming that this aforementioned ‘diagnostic consultation’ would address exactly that.  “I’ll be there with you through the entire… thing.”  He almost said the word ‘ordeal,’ but realized that single word probably let on more than he intended.
You didn’t seem to notice, or simply didn’t care, content with the mere fact that Law would be able to join you.  “Thank goodness… I’m so happy…”  You dropped your head back onto his shoulder.  “I’ve been so nervous since she called me this morning.”
“Did she tell you anything over the phone?” he asked, rubbing your back, leaving warm trails of pleasant shocks in the wake of his hand.
“No, she simply said she was hoping to see me as soon as possible.  She wanted to discuss everything face-to-face, which I understand,” you muttered back.  “Still makes me really nervous though.  I’m afraid she’s going to tell me that I’m completely infertile, or something.”
Law sucked in a shaky breath.  “Hopefully not.”  He wished more than anything that he had the emotional capacity to say anything else, anything more reassuring or comforting, but despite the years he dated you, and even after marrying you, he still had his frequent bouts of complete emotional constipation.  How you continued to put up with him, he feared he would never completely comprehend.
“Anyway,” you lifted your head.  “Shachi and Penguin were here when she called.  Penguin got so nervous that he started baking.”  You gestured with your thumb to the kitchen counter.
Law’s eyes darted in the direction you pointed.  Five large plastic food storage containers sat stacked one on top of the other, each filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies.  The entire stack was easily almost three feet tall.  The Leaning Tower of Tupperware.  Law groaned.  “What in the world…”
You laughed, the sound seeming so foreign recently.  “We’re completely out of flour and baking soda now, but we should also have enough cookies to last us a lifetime.”
Law’s lips quirked into a small smirk.  “I swear, you can’t take Penguin anywhere.”  He held you closer as you giggled into his chest.
“Well, I personally figured you could bring one or two of them with you to the hospital.  Leave them in the break room with a little note for the rest of the staff to pick at when they’re on break.  Don’t you think that would be sweet?”  You grinned.
Leave it to you to think of the most generous solution to the mountain of cookies left in your kitchen.  Law smiled, his hand trailing over the back of your head.  “That sounds like a great idea.”
The Friday of your appointment had sprung up on the two of you.  You sat in the passenger seat of Law’s car, your heart hammering in your ribcage and your fingers anxiously picking at your cuticles as your mind raced with worry over what would be discussed at your appointment.  The repetitive alternative rock music playing through the radio’s speakers was interrupted with an hourly traffic report, and Law took that moment to slide his free hand over to your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze.  Neither of you spoke a single word, the only noise being the rumbling of his engine and the monotonous tone of the traffic report.
When you exited the car in the parking lot of the clinic, you immediately paced to Law’s side, grabbing his pinky finger with your own.  
“Something to ground me,” you stated plainly.
At your words, Law grabbed your whole hand in his, lacing your fingers together.  “Don’t float away from me, now.”
Time went by in a blur as you checked in with the receptionist, sat impatiently in the waiting room, and blindly followed the nurse into the patient hallway with Law close on your heels.  You followed her into the examination room where she assessed your blood pressure like a typical appointment, before writing a few notes on her clipboard and leaving you and Law to wait for Robin.
You were sitting on the small, elevated bed with your legs dangling off the end, your perspiring hands quickly causing small wet blotches to form on the sterile paper that covered the cold vinyl.  The silence was suffocating.  You felt like you were back in your bathroom sitting on the closed toilet lid anxiously waiting for that negative pregnancy result.  Law was sitting in a plastic chair across the small room for you, and he slouched lower in the seat to extend his leg out and bat the bottom of your shoe with the toe of his own.  The action caused you to yank your eyes upward to face him, and he graced you with that warm smile you had fallen in love with all those years ago.
“You see anxious patients like this all the time,” you mumbled.  “Have you ever learned any ways to make them feel better?”
Law rested one of his elbows on the narrow arm rest of his chair, dropping his cheek to rest on his tattooed fingers.  “Sure I have, but I can’t say I’m too good at it.  But… you’re not my patient, you’re my wife.”
A very nervous chuckle blubbered from your lungs.  “I guess that would make a difference, huh?”
Law’s lips formed a very faint grin.  “It makes a hell of a difference.  I can’t play footsies with my patients.”  He punctuated his sentence with another knock into your foot.
You couldn’t resist laughing.  Law was often so serious and stoic, intimidating strangers with his deadpan gaze and unwavering, permanent scowl, but he became a completely different person with you.  In the years you had been together, he had morphed into a chronically exhausted undergraduate student who could barely force a dry grin in your direction into a compassionate, tender, loving husband.  You couldn’t argue that he was still a bit lacking in the empathy department, but his mere presence in any room brought you a sense of ease and comfort that you had never experienced in your life.  And goodness, you loved him for that.
The sound of the door to the exam room opening snapped you out of your dreamy thoughts.  Your heart regained its anxious palpitations as Robin entered with her usual calm demeanor.  Something in her eyes seemed… off, however.
“‘Morning, you two, how has the week been treating you?” she asked as she sat down on her stool, placing her laptop and small stack of stapled paperwork on the room’s counter.
Law tossed a look at you.  You tossed a look back at him.
“Could be better,” you uttered for the both of you.
Robin simply hummed.  It wasn’t rocket science to figure it out.  She was there when it happened, after all.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush here, I would like to jump right into things.”  She pulled up a few images on her laptop before grabbing the device and rolling in her stool to be seated in front of you, turning the computer and placing it in her lap.  The screen displayed your ultrasound images from almost a month ago.  “I would like to bring your attention to these labeled areas.”
Robin’s finger indicated each area she wanted you to address.  Law had already seen the images, and simply kept his focus trained on every slight change of your facial expression.  The doctor explained to you what she had already explained to him, and watching the worry grow in your eyes made his chest sink.
“We would need to perform a minimally invasive procedure to make sure, but I believe you might have endometriosis just based on your ultrasound scans.  Can I ask you a few questions about your menstruation history?”  She listened patiently and jotted down notes on her lap as you spoke about when you got your first period, how long on average they would last, how much bleeding, the average level of pain, or any other potential hormonal symptoms.
Law was in awe at Robin’s laser-focused demeanor with the patient.  Just as he was always in tune with matters of the cardiothoracic variety, Robin absorbed all of your history like a dry sponge.  She successfully empathized with your issues, her eyes giving away the even mix of intrigue, concern, and understanding as you described your ailments to her.
After you finished your explanation, Robin returned her laptop to the counter and swiveled to face both you and Law.  She crossed one leg over the other and clasped her hands above her knee.  “Mrs. Trafalgar, I’d like to discuss the benefits of performing a laparoscopy to rule out or confirm endometriosis, based on both your ultrasounds and your description just now.”
Your eyes darted between her stern blue ones and your husband’s pointed gold ones.  “I’m listening,” was all you could blurt out.
“The procedure would be incredibly quick.  You’d be under general anesthesia, so you won’t feel a thing.  We would make a very small incision in your abdomen, a little below your belly button.  A thin camera would then be inserted to examine the inside of your abdomen, and would allow us to see any potential endometrial tissue that has grown outside of your uterus.”  She paused to let you absorb the information.
“What would happen if you found tissue?” you nervously questioned.
“Depending on the severity, we would most likely advise a similar surgery to actually remove the visible tissue with a couple extra incisions, but again, nothing major.  The healing time would be incredibly quick in comparison to more invasive procedures,” she explained.  “I personally think this would be the best option for you, considering you and your husband are still interested in having children.  I want to try my best to give you the best chance of success in doing so, but that also involves ruling out potential reasons that you suffered a miscarriage.”
You bit your lip, but you absolutely appreciated her openness and honesty.  “If I do have this… would I still be able to get pregnant?”
Robin nodded swiftly.  “Absolutely.  Many women with endometriosis are able to have successful pregnancies, especially after treatment.  However, I would be remiss to inform you that, since you have had one miscarriage, your chances of having another have slightly increased.  I know this is very hard to hear, but I want you to understand that.”
Your eyes glanced back toward Law who was already gazing at your face, almost as if he was trying to read your mind.  You nodded your own head and turned your attention back to Robin.  “If that’s what you think is best, then I would like to go for it.”
Your doctor grinned, a friendly smile that warmed your spirit as your anxiety-ridden mind whirled with every possible circumstance.  Her comforting, understanding instinct was exactly what you needed to help you through this process.
“I’d be more than happy to set up your initial appointment now, if that is something that interests you,” she added.  “I can directly send a referral to the surgical outpatient clinic which is right down the road from here.”
You gave another affirmative nod.  “Yes, that would be wonderful.”
Robin quickly got to work opening your patient portal on her laptop.  While she typed, she began speaking once more.  “Full transparency, but I also have endometriosis.  My husband and I decided against having kids, but that was for completely different reasons.”
You smiled.  “Who is your husband?”
“I doubt you’d have met him, he works at the fertility clinic nearby!”  She laughed at the mere image of her own husband.  “He’s a pretty strange man, I will admit.”
Law blanked.  “Wait… is your husband–”
“Doctor Franky?” she finished his question for him.  “Yup, that’s him!”  She immediately turned her attention back to you, informing you of the date and time of your laparoscopic referral, leaving Law to sit back in his seat and ponder over the fact that your gynecologist's husband was the man who got a glimpse of Law’s sperm.
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daddypriceugh · 5 months
Text
Favourite nurse
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Here is a small something for you guys :)
I'm thinking about making a part 2 with some smut but I'm gonna let y'all decide if you want that <33
Link for Part 2 below :)
https://www.tumblr.com/daddypriceugh/736715457204273152/favourite-nurse-part-2?source=share
Tw: meantion of wounds
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The hospital lights were too bright and the people too loud.
That's at least what Ghost thought as he sat on a small bed waiting for you, his favourite nurse. He has been here for 3 hours now, and his wounds were still open and ready to get infected. It's not like he had the chance to leave prior, but he chose to wave every other nurse off when they came his way.
None is like you.
He shifted, making the bed squeak and huffed. Where were you?
Right on cue you're figure appeared from around the corner and shit did you look good.
Your hair was braided with some strand loose at the front. You had a smile plastered on your face, which vanished when you saw him.
A frown formed as you approached him making his heart beat fast in uncertainty. What were you thinking?
He stared at your mouth when you stood in front of him, starting to speak.
"What happened?" Your voice was laced with worry and confusion. Wasn't he here yesterday?
Ghost cleared his throat which felt odly dry.
"Had a fight" he answered shortly. You nodded in response.
"Alright ehm- well let's get to work then" You said but the last part was more for you than for him.
He took his shirt of to reveal the wounds and you prayed that he couldn't see you gawking at his abs. Like damn what did they feed him.
Shaking those thoughts away you started disinfecting the cuts, trying to stay calm.
Why did his presence bother you so much?
"How was your day" His voice cut the tension and you thanked him mentally.
"It- uh it was good yeah. Not many people came in and...yup" you said while biting your lip.
He hummed contently, probably pleased with the answer.
The minutes went by and you finally finished your work.
"Alright everything is patched up now. Take this cream and rub it over the wounds a bit it will help with the pain"
He took the cream from you, fingers brushing against yours. It may sound weird but you could have sworn that you saw him redden underneath his mask.
"Thanks doc"
He stood up and grabbed his bag, slugging it over his right shoulder.
"No problem really. But please take care of yourself, I really don't want to see you here again tomorrow"
You mentally slapped yourself for that sentence. 'I don't want to see you' like wtf was wrong with you.
"I-i mean I want to see you ju-just not hurt" you rambled, trying to save yourself from your self-driven-shit.
"Don't worry I know what you meant" he said softly, hand was reaching to your face and to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
You face warmed up and probably reddened at this gesture.
"I'll see you then Ghost" you said as he walked down the hallway.
He turned around.
"See you doc. And it's Simon"
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