#but that will have to wait until I can feel at least somewhat confident that the designs are finalised

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 5.4k words.

fic masterlist previous part pt five next part

angst??; violence; speaking of injuries — damn y/n is in the wars; cute little worried, mad miguel; since I’m going from y/n’s perspective to miguel’s a few times it’s may seem a bit jumpy, hope that doesn’t annoy anyone — miguel gives you shocking news. and as you go to head home you end up in a different universe, meeting some spider kid, leaving miguel and the rest of them to worry and search for you.

You walk with purposeful steps. Passing by spider variants, who spare you confused glances at your almost pissed off expression. Though when one would meet your gaze you’d smile—genuinely, which made them think that a certain person was the target of your anger.

“Oi y/n— wow.” Hobie jumped down in front of you, observing your furrowed features. But yet again they would smooth out upon seeing a face you didn’t want to punch. Pavitr and Gwen were close, coming to stop beside Hobie.

“Hi.” You greet them.

“You look stressed as hell.” Hobie comments, making you forcibly chuckle.

“Not at all.” You quickly say, before veering to pass them.

“You alright, y/n?” Gwen asks.

“I appreciate the concern. I do.” You say, walking backwards. “But I’m in a bit of a rush. And annoyingly this can’t wait.”

“Careful!” Pavitr warns as you quickly skirt past a table your hip almost hit.

“Thank you!” You shout back as you rush towards a certain office that made the lines return to your forehead.

You push open the door, stalking towards the centre of the room. At the outburst Miguel looks down. He looks away knowingly, upon seeing you and your angry expression.

“Fired?!” You exclaim up at him. He doesn’t spare you a glance, continuing to tap and swipe at different screens. “I’m fired?!”

You hold up a scribbled note that said ‘You’re fired as of Tuesday’.

“You still have a day.” Miguel comments calmly.

You scoff in disbelief. “What the hell did I do?! …and can you come down here, it’s very hard yelling like this!”

Miguel sighs, but drops down in front of you. He looks bored. And that seems to piss you off more. You step closer. “You wrote me a note?” You’re still in disbelief. “You didn’t even add the reason.”

“Believe it or not that was purposeful.” Miguel monotonously says.

You narrow your eyes. “Why?” You try to lower your tone, taking deep breathes.

Miguel just tilts his head, observing your antics. You blink. “So, you’re not gonna tell me?”

He doesn’t say a thing, confirming so. You’re beyond annoyed and in all honesty what have you to lose? You’ve already lost your job, for a reason you’re dying to know and your adrenaline enduced veins seem to think that pressuring him is a smart idea.

You step closer, but realise that your “intimidating” gaze is doing nothing, his towering height making you feel like an ant. You dart your gaze around, stopping on a swivel chair, you snatch it, quickly standing on it, so that you’re somewhat of a millimetre taller than him.

“We made a deal.” You say, finally feeling a little more in control now that Miguel is looking up at you.

“And now its over.”

“That’s not how deal’s work.” You say.

“Oh.” Miguel hums. “That’s a shame.”

Your nose twitches as you hold back a snarl. Miguel is an infuriating man—it’s just that simple.

“I’m not leaving, not until you at least give me a reason.” You say, trying to appear threatening. But being in front of a man who looks it 24/7 is really dampening your confidence.

He continues to look up at you and your heaving chest, and face that’s tightened in annoyance. He sighs. “It’s better this way, y/l/n.”

“And why is that?” You try again to get the ‘reason’ out of him.

“You can go.” He turns, beginning to head back. You stare after him, mouth opening in disbelief at his complete dismissal.

You go to get off the chair, feeling your entire being deflating. But your foot seems to miss the step down as you begin to tumble forward. But before you can hit the ground a web is attaching to your hand, and yanking you into a chest.

Miguel’s breathing is displayed in that quick moving chest. One hand wrapped around your waist, while the other—that had shot the web—has ahold of your wrist.

Your eyes are wide at the fast movement of it all. “You want to know why you’re fired?” Miguel begins. “Because you’re accident prone. One trip and you could mess everything up.”

You meet his gaze. “That’s very assumptive.” You say. “You and I both know that I haven’t “fucked” anything up.”

“Yet.”

“Yet?” Your brows furrow. “You’re betting on a ‘yet’?” You step away from him, getting your wrist out of his hold. “You made a decision based on your own wrong assumptions.”

Miguel’s expression has finally changed, actually displaying an emotion—anger—but still an emotion. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, pulling you harshly back to him as his breath fans over your face.

“How do you know my “assumptions” are wrong? Huh?” He snarls.

You glare up at him. “How do you know they’re right?” His grip tightens around the material of your shirt, but you continue. “Right now, if you were to tell me that you hated my work ethic, or that I was genuinely shit at my job, I’d leave—maybe a bit upset—but I’d understand.”

Miguel’s eyes are darting everywhere they can.

“But you’re giving me nothing.” You’re blurting everything you can think to say. If not the job back, then you’re going to get your reason for it being gone. “Just say, you hate the way I work.”

You stare at him. “Please.” You’ve somewhat calmed down. Your face softening to one close to simple pleading.

Miguel gulps, his chest slowing but his heart beating on overdrive. You were so close, looking up at him with a genuine pleading look. You just wanted closure.

His hand hadn’t let up its grip on your clothes, part of him not wanting to let go.

“I thought you said you had to have a reason to fire me.” Your voice is back to your normal tone—one that always made Miguel feel comfortable, safe. Which is odd considering you wouldn’t be able to protect him or practically anyone here. Physically at least.

You sigh, realising that there’s no budging Miguel. It’s him, for crying out loud. You were stupid to think you could get anything out of him that he didn’t want you to know.

You reach your hand down, grabbing his wrist and pulling your shirt away. You back up, hands up in an almost surrender—saying ‘fine, I’ll go’.

Miguel doesn’t like the silent sentence for some reason, his expression morphing back to anger. He again swiftly shoots a web to attach to your stomach, yanking you forward again.

“Can you stop that?” You ask, once you’re directly in front of him again. “At this rate put a leash on me.” You mutter. You’d given up. And all you wanted to do was pack up and leave. Why was he dragging this out?

“Would that work?” He whispered. And now through your annoyed haze you noticed how close he was…again.

But the drop of his tone made your breath hitch, different from before. He leans closer, red eyes fully focused on you. “Would it?” He asks again.

“Would what?”

He tilts his head, licking his lips. “A leash.”

Your eyes widen, as you choke out your answer. “That was…a joke. I was kidding.”

“But would you stay out of trouble if you had something constricting you?”

Your mouth opens and closes. He had slowly been pulling you closer by the attached web, his claws dancing across the orange before they reached the material of your shirt again.

“Es eso todo lo que tengo que hacer, chaparrita?” (Is that all I have to do) He darkly whispered.

You focused on his words. You had wanted to understand Spanish before, but now you’re dying to know. And luckily, in your own time you had been studying—having stolen your phone back.

“No, O’hara.” You begin. “Todo lo que tienes que hacer es ser honesto.” (All you have to do is be honest.)

Miguel stares at you, brows furrowing for only a moment. He looks taken aback. And from his underlying impressed expression, you know your words had made sense.

“When did you learn that?”

“Why are you firing me?” You counter.

And for once, Miguel finally gives in, up to a peak with his emotions. “Because of the fucking attack!” He finally says it, or more so ‘exclaims’ it.

You pause. “The attack?”

He hisses in annoyance at himself. “I’m supposed to be helping people—the multiverse. That was the whole point of this.” He mutters out.

“I’m not following… How did I mess that up?” You ask, staring at him in confusion.

“You didn’t. Which is beyond annoying, because I’d much rather a reason where you were the problem.”

“That’s…very flattering.” You mutter, as he continues.

“But the reason why I’m firing you is because…” he clenched his jaw, closing his eyes for a moment, seeming annoyed to even think of saying it.

“Because you got…hurt.”

And of course it goes in one ear and out the other. Because in what universe does that make sense. You stare at him, blinking too many times.

“What?”

“I’m not saying it again.” He says, stepping away from you.

“No, no. What?”

Miguel is turned away and cursing at himself. Why did he admit that? He should have just said you were shit at your job.

You finally assess his words, maybe not the underlying meaning, but his general words at least. “I’ll be honest…” you begin. “I thought that was in the job description.”

Miguel turns. “What?”

“Getting hurt.” You say. “I mean maybe not that extreme considering I’m behind a desk, but I knew the risk.”

“You knew you might get hurt if you took this job?” He reiterates.

“Yeah.” You breathe. “But you’d understand. I mean you are spider-man.”

“Yeah…” he drifts off. “But you’re…”

“A weak human?” You ask.

He looks away, frowning. “I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s fine.” You say. “I can’t lie and say it isn’t the truth.”

“It’s not—“ he says extremely quickly before he extremely quickly follows with: “—entirely true. You’re also annoying.”

You raise your brows. “So, I’m an annoying, weak human who just got fired?” You slowly ask.

Miguel presses his lips together. “It’s bet—“

“Better this way.” You cut in. “Yeah, I heard you.” You sigh. “Thanks for telling me the reason.” Your tone has shifted to one Miguel really doesn’t like. You sound…disappointed…distant. And why wouldn’t you be? Of course Miguel expected this but for some reason it just didn’t settle right in his stomach.

But before he knows it you’re opening the exit door, giving him a small smile and a nod, saying: “Sorry for the…outburst.” Before you’re shutting the door and leaving.

;;

“Where is she?” Miguel is asking Peter, thankful for once that he didn’t bring Mayday.

Peter scratches the back of his head, pretending to look busy. Miguel begrudgingly turns to Hobie, raising a brow. Hobie looks him up and down before scoffing. “You’re the one who ‘fired’ her, remember mate?” He sounds annoyed.

Miguel swiftly shifts his gaze to Gwen. “She still has a day. Where is she?”

“She decided it was best to leave today.” Gwen says.

“How’d she get a wristband?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes. He slowly shifts his gaze back to Hobie, who is sitting, legs up on a table.

“Hobie.”

“Yes, boss?” Hobie asks, praying innocence.

“Why?” Miguel asks, gritting his teeth.

Hobie stands, walking up to him. “Why do you care? Ya clearly seem to think she’s an annoyin’, weak human.”

Miguel holds the bridge of his nose. “Did she tell everyone that?” He mutters out in question, more so to himself.

“No, she didn’t. I ‘appened to hear it.” Hobie says, making Miguel look back up.

“So she just left?” He asks, his uninterested expression cracking a fraction—only a fraction.

“That is what you wanted.” Pavitr chimes in, twisting one of his gold bands.

;;

Miguel breathes, heading back to his office. Once inside he taps his wristband, opening up a portal. He pauses. Why was he even going? You’re gone, home, safe. Just like he wanted. Why is he messing that up by seeing you?

But he’s already through the portal arriving outside your door. You lived alone so he didn’t have to worry about scaring your family. He knocks on your bedroom door, and waits. And waits. And waits.

Look, patience isn’t something Miguel is very good at, so he twists the handle, opening the door to your room. He narrows his eyes, seeing you not inside. Sure, you could have easily gone out, but as he scouted the room, he began to realise that you hadn’t been in here for a while. Dust had formed on your desk, while your bed stayed untouched and made.

“Lyla.” He calls, her appearing quickly by his shoulder. “Was y/n here?”

Lyla computes the room, scanning for footprints or any of your fresh DNA. “No. She hasn’t been here for a while.”

Miguel goes to turn back to his portal, when he steps on something. Looking down, he sees a bracelet by the very edge of the door. Picking it up, he asks Lyla again.

“Ah, she was here, recently. Only in the doorway, it seems.” She answers.

Miguel goes to pocket the bracelet but realises that he technically doesn’t have any, so he instead puts the bracelet around his wrist, walking back through the portal.

;;

“What?” Peter voices his surprise. “But she was just heading home. She’s not there? And hold up, why did you go—“

“Hobie what wristband did you give her?” Miguel interrupts, turning to Hobie. “One of your faulty ones?”

Hobie rolls his eyes, swinging his guitar strap around his body. “It was a normal one, a spare I found.”

“And you’re sure she’s not just out?” Gwen checks.

“No, I’m not, Gwen.” Miguel sarcastically states. “You really think I didn’t check?”

“Do you think she could have gone to another universe?” Pavitr asks.

“Why would she do that?” Peter asks, brows furrowed.

“Dunno, maybe she wanted to rebele.” Hobie comments. “Wouldn’t blame her.” He shoots this at Miguel, who narrows his eyes.

“I called you all here to find her.” Miguel says. “You seem to have been around her a lot. You’d have more of an idea then any other spiders.”

;;

While the spider-men and woman were all wondering where you had went, you were wondering the exact same thing.

You had been walking down the street, trying to face any form of familiarity. But nothing stands out. This wasn’t your home. This wasn’t your universe.

You keep touching your wrist in hopes to magically find the wristband there, but no, it’s still gone. Where? You wanted to know that too.

You watched as people chatted and ate, many at the city’s cafes and restaurants. It was growing darker and as you looked up you felt a single drop of water land on your cheek.

You manage to reach a bus shelter, taking a seat. Where the hell were you?

“Miles!” A man’s voice calls.

“I’ll be back, dad! I just…forgot something…at school!” Miles answers.

You shift your gaze from the falling sky to a cop and his assumable son, who is rushing down the street. You go to shift your gaze away again when you catch sight of something falling out of the kid’s bag. Narrowing your eyes you just catch what looks to be a spider-man mask, before Miles is quickly shoving it back in.

You then hear a ruckus some way down the street. A shop…being robbed. Then it clicked. This ‘Miles’ was running to the scene, because he was this universe’s spider-man.

You quickly stood, covering your head with your hands, preventing some of the rain from soaking your hair as you rushed to follow. Maybe this spider-man was apart of the spider society, and had a wristband. Whatever the outcome, you felt better that you had somewhat of a plan.

;;

When you reached the shop you chose to wait outside, knowing it not smart to just run into danger.

The fight is finished rather quickly, with a few broken windows and thrown food, but no one from the looks of it got hurt.

And as you began to follow Miles—having spotted him heading to an alleyway—you realise how creepy you would seem just following this kid who doesn’t know who the hell you are. But it’s too late to backtrack because he’s swiftly turning and shooting a web to attach your hand to the concrete wall.

You gasp in shock as the kid quickly runs up. “I’m sorry, I thought you were—“

“An evil dude, yeah don’t worry I started to think so too.” You chuckle, slowing your breathing. Your hand had smacked pretty hard against the wall, and as Miles cuts the web you realise that your hand is partially red and bruised.

“Sh— I am so sorry.” He said, spotting the slight injury too.

You wave him off. “That’s alright. I…uh needed to ask you something.”

Miles stands straighter, probably expecting you to point him in the direction of more danger. “You are the spider-man of this universe, right?”

Miles pauses. “Wait, you know—“ he shuffled closer, whispering. “You know about the other universes?”

You nod. “I was wondering if you had a wristband.”

“A wristband?” Miles’ confusion makes you deflate.

“So you don’t know about that…” you sigh, your plan dissolving away.

“Know about what?”

You smile. “That’s alright.”

You begin to step back out of the alleyway, placing your hands in your jacket pocket. “Nice job, by the way.” you gesture to the hung up robber.

“Thanks.” Miles shrugs, still looking thoughtful.

But as you near the street, you suddenly glitch, hitting against the wall, hissing in pain. Shit, or course. You were in a different universe…without a wristband.

Miles quickly reaches your side. “You’re not from here.” He mutters. He then loops his arm around your midriff, your body continuing to slightly glitch. “Jeez, I didn’t think that would hurt as much.” You mutter.

Miles brings you back into the alleyway, resting you against the wall. “What universe are you from?”

“Earth 1–“ you glitch. Then finally you stop, resting your head against the wall.

Miles kneels by you, still deep in thought. “Would you know a girl named Gwen Stacy?” He suddenly asks. Almost as if he had been waiting to ask someone this exact question.

You quickly meet his gaze—through the mask, of course. “You know Gwen?” You ask

“You know Gwen?” He repeats back.

“Yeah, she’s apart of the spider society.”

“The spider what?” Miles asks.

But you continue. “How do you know her? Wait.” You pause. “You’re Miles right?” You double check, not wanting to seem creepy and stalker-like.

“Yeah…” he drifts off.

“She spoke about you.” You smile. “A lot, actually.”

Miles decided on taking his mask off, either deciding on it being fine for you to see, or knowing that you must know what he looks like already. You can spot a faint blush on his cheeks at the mention of Gwen mentioning him.

“How did you get here?” He asks.

“It had to have been from the wristband.” You mutter. Before speaking louder for Miles. “There’s these wristbands that can transport you to different universes without all this glitchy mess.”

“Wow. Do you have one now?” He asks, looking to your wrist.

You shake your head. “Somehow I lost mine. And to be honest, I didn’t plan on coming here. I meant to go home.” You then get reminded of the fact that you got fired, and you mentally narrow your gaze at a non existent Miguel.

His reason still didn’t make sense to you. But you did get one. And you weren’t one to backtrack on your word, leaving like you had said.

“I’ve helped send a few spider…people back to their universes.” Miles begins. “But that was using something kingpin—this villain, created.”

You rest your head back against the concrete wall, the rain growing louder and louder, and heavier and heavier. “How are you gonna get home?” Miles asks.

You sigh. “I’m really not sure.”

;;

Miguel has gotten Lyla to try and retrace your steps through the different universes. But there’s a lot. So, even though it’s been a few hours she’s found nothing as of yet.

Miguel didn’t know how to feel about the two different options of your disappearance. You could have either gone on your own—chosen to, like Hobie had said. Why you would ever do that, Miguel would love to know. But would that make it his fault if something happened?

He knew you loved your job. And he had fired you, for selfish reasons that he covered up with, it being ‘in your best interest’. To Miguel it was, but you wouldn’t see it that way. He’s sure you don’t.

But then there’s the alternative that you had gotten taken. Miguel barely dove into that theory, his hands turning to fists so tight that he cut the skin of his palms through his suit, his claws tainted with his own blood. He almost felt bad for whoever had the terrible idea to take you.

If you thought what happened to those masked men in the office was bad, then you’d be horrified to see what he’d do to this supposed captor.

But right now it seemed to be worse—the not knowing. He didn’t know if you were happy, scared, living your best life, or…dead.

“Lyla!” He exclaimed turning to her and her tiny computers.

“No matter how many times you yell my name, it’s not gonna make me find her any quicker.” She sing songs.

He groans, going back to pacing. Then he hears the arrival of Gwen, Hobie, Peter and Pavitr. Turning, he doesn’t like the looks on their faces. “What is it?” He asks, crossing his arms.

Gwen looks down. “We found out that…she didn’t go voluntarily.”

There’s silence besides the almost ‘loud’ gaze of Miguel. “What was that?”

“There’s been talk through majority of the universes, about these…guys.” Peter begins.

“And when one showed us a left behind mask, it was the exact same as what those men that infiltrated HQ wore.”

“What do you mean by ‘didn’t go voluntarily’?” Miguel asks, stepping closer to them all. “How do you know that?”

“It’s more ov’ a guess.” Hobie says. “From what people were sayin’, those “guys” never let someone get away alive.”

“Y/n did.” Gwen adds, looking solemn.

“So, you lot came here, with one piece of information saying that she’s either gonna get killed or is already dead?” Miguel calmly asks.

But his ‘calm’ tone isn’t necessarily…calm. It’s more like the calm before the storm.

“It’s information that could help us.” Gwen tries to stay positive. “We can try and track these masked guys. Maybe there’s a base in a universe. That’s where she could be.”

“All I’m hearing is ‘could’ and ‘maybe’, Gwen.” Miguel says. “I’m gonna need something a little more definite than that.”

All the spider-people seem to notice the way Miguel’s expression shifted the moment the ‘masked men’ were brought up. He knows something they don’t. And that seems to irritate Hobie the most.

“Well, what do you ‘ave?” He asks Miguel. “We’ve at least found some’ing. What ‘ave you found?”

Miguel’s gaze is narrowed, his face solemn as he stares at Hobie. Hobie steps closer, his boots the second loudest thing in the room.

“Another thing,” Hobie adds. “While I’m talking…” He taps at his jeans to a beat only he can seem to hear. “I’ve never seen you act—I’m surprised to say—worried. Especially with y/n. I thought you hated her.”

“Mind your business.” Miguel turns, preparing to web up to the screens.

“My bad, boss.” Hobie backs up, a small smirk on his face.

“I thought you two were friends?” Why Miguel was suddenly having this conversation with Hobie he wasn’t sure, he just felt angry, because Hobie sounded so entitled to you. Like Miguel should stay “hating” you and that’s it.

Of course Hobie was just being his normal self, but with Miguel’s gaze glazed over with too many emotions he’s barely felt before, he sees red.

“So, why don’t you seem more worried about her?” Miguel continues.

Hobie chuckles. “You are worried.” He mutters to himself, shaking his head.

Miguel grits his teeth. “Ever heard of guilt?” He asks. “I don’t particularly want her to die. Having that on my back is gonna be extremely annoying.” Lies, lies, lies.

“Sure, Miguel.” Hobie hasn’t wiped his smirk off yet, and Miguel’s temper is rising.

“Alright, this is not helping.” Gwen quickly chimes in. “Y/n’s helped us, and we’re gonna help her…let’s just leave it at that.”

Miguel heard her. But all he can seem to focus on is Hobie’s smug face, as if he knows something no one else does. Something not even Miguel has really admitted to yet.

;;

You and Miles have talked, about a lot of different things actually. You had originally been trying to come up with a plan to get you home, but it soon evolved into telling each other’s life stories.

“Please tell me that is not how Gwen got her hair like that?” You’re laughing.

“I hadn’t known what to do.” Miles groans, slightly embarrassed at the memory of his first day as spider-man. His hand—being extremely sticky—not leaving Gwen’s hair.

“Wait.” Miles suddenly stands, gazing around. “Somethings wrong.”

You quickly join him, darting your gaze around the alleyway. The rain had ceased, so the sound of heavy footsteps were growing much clearer.

You stiffen, as you carefully follow Miles to edge of the alleyway, right before you walk onto the street. But that’s when your heart stops.

A small group of masked men stand, much more intimidating in the clearer light—the rush of the explosion and fear before having clouded your vision. What were they doing here?

“You were supposed to watch her!” One is exclaiming to another. “Now she’s run off somewhere. Did you at least take her wristband?”

Your eyes widen. They’re the reason you’re here? You press further into the wall, listening hard. Why? You desperately wanted that answer.

“Of course I took—“ but he stops, quickly snapping his head in the direction of you and Miles. You quickly hit back against the concrete, Miles doing the same as both your chests heave.

Miles begins to pull down his mask, preparing to face them. But you grab his arm. It wasn’t a coincidence that these same men infiltrated HQ and are now here, assumably having sent you here as well. Something didn’t feel right, and something seemed to tell you that they upgraded in some way since their last attack.

These guy’s suits are bigger, more armoured, with neater woven green stitching. This was obviously some sort of ‘crew’. Most crews are based on a cause. Like the spider society, for example. They’re there to protect the multiverse from inter-dimensional anomalies.

What are these guys fighting for? Could they possibly be fighting against something?

You had too many unanswered questions to let this kid get involved. “Just hold on.” You say to Miles, staying pressed to the cold wall. He pauses, shifting his gaze who you, in question.

“I’ve seen them before.” You begin. “I think they might be the reason I’m here…”

“Then we should talk to them. Capture them and get them to talk.” Miles eagerly says.

You chuckles. “I appreciate that. But I don’t think it’s wise. Not with them.”

Miles goes to say more, when the sound of footsteps near. You immediately pull Miles farther out of view. Then Miles feels it. Instead of the ‘tingle’ he gets when danger is near, it’s more like a foreboding that travels though his entire being. And now he can understand your cautiousness, because for the first time in a while he feels genuinely scared—powerless.

The only thing you can think to do is begin to head down the alleyway, picking up speed. Then you’re both running. “Hey! I think I found her!” A voice shouts, and that’s when you run. The type of run that makes you feel lightheaded, and sick in your stomach.

Miles grabs you, web slinging across a building. “I should be fighting them!” He exclaims through the wind. “Why am I running away!?”

“It’s probably a survival instinct!” You exclaim, as he continues to swing. “Which is concerning since your spider-man.” You mutter this more to yourself. If spider-man’s first instinct was to run then what could this mean for the rest of society?

Then suddenly Miles is getting yanked back, his web snapping, resulting in you both falling to the hard ground. You hit the concrete with a harsh slam, making your eyes blur and your ankle scream.

“Shit.” You mutter. You’re praying it’s not twisted. Please don’t be sprained—you chant in your head, as you scramble to your feet, spotting a nearing masked man, claws out and ready.

You couldn’t see Miles, but to be fair you couldn’t see much. So you ran, or more painfully hobbled away. You had to put pressure on your ankle so that you would move. The man is nearing, his heavy breathing sounding louder than it should be.

But then you feel a hand wrap around your waist, pulling you somewhere dark and desolate. You go to scream, eyes wide, when a hand gets placed over your mouth, quieting any forming sounds that were about to fall.

You can’t see who it is, your blurry gaze and the dark atmosphere making it difficult. You squint, only knowing that someone is pushing you up against a wall, one hand wrapped around your waist, as the other keeps you quiet.

Then you feel a breath by your ear. “Don’t move.” He breathes. And finally the slight accent and familiar tone makes your entire body slump.

Miguel.

You never thought you’d feel so relieved to know it’s him, but once he had spoken, Miguel could feel your entire body relax, nearly sliding to the floor, the pressure you were placing on your injured ankle now faltering.

Miguel keeps you upright, tightening his grip on your waist, as he keeps his mouth by your ear. “Would now be a bad time to ask why you left a day early?”

And you actually laugh, half heartedly and mixed in with a groan of pain, but still a laugh nonetheless.

Then Miguel is moving his hand to hold your chin, as he tries to focus your gaze. “Can you see?”

Your eyes had begun to droop, the exhaustion gradually catching up to you. But then you grab Miguel’s arm tightly. “Miles.” You say, remembering the kid.

“Miles?” Miguel questions.

“The kid. I was with a kid. Another spider-man. Is he okay?” You rush this out, forcing Miguel to place his hand back over your mouth.

“Shh. You’ll get us caught.” He whispers.

You protest, needing an answer, because you could feel yourself slipping from consciousness.

“He’ll be fine. Gwen is with him.” Miguel consoles, seeing your stress. Your shoulders slump in relief, and finally the exhaustion catches up, grabbing a hold of you, as your eyes begin to flutter.

“Wow, wow.” Miguel mutters, catching your dropping body. “Don’t close your eyes.” He all but demands, but it’s too late. Your eyes roll closed, as darkness gives you a hug.

Miguel slips to the ground with you, holding the back of your head from hitting back. He prays that it’s just exhaustion, and nothing more…permanent.

His chest is heaving, his eyes trained on you, while his ears stayed focused, in case the sound of heavy boots broke the city noise.

But he hears nothing of concern, his finger—at first without permission—dragging along your jaw.

Your lips were slightly parted, your body so limp in his hold. “I’m sorry.” He mutters quietly, his dragging finger drifting up to your face, to brush a stray hair, still slightly damp from the rain.

His finger pauses by your lips, not quite touching, just hovering. He’d been in denial. Big denial. And maybe you wouldn’t feel the same, maybe you hated him. But right now Miguel couldn’t find it in himself to care, all the loud voices in his head zoning out to one single voice saying ‘I like her’ … ‘I like her a lot’.

sorry, this one kinda goes everywhere. i needed to add my guy miles <3 i don’t know if I like this one *crying* it feels too random. I’ll hopefully get back on track next chapter

part six is on its way! — thanks so much for all your guys support on this series, you guys are truly incredible

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[mr2swap]

I'm going to stay like Jeremy

-What the fuck is wrong with me?! - I looked down at my big cock now flaccid, I assumed that I would finally lose my virginity at last tonight, but why doesn't it want to work?, I closed my eyes and began to imagine Violet the naked girl who was in the other room, Violet Anderson, the sexiest girl in all of high school, found herself willing to have sex with me, or well at least with my best friend Jeremy.

Jeremy is my best friend, the person to whom I can tell anything, and the biggest stud in all of high school, when I told him that I had a lot of problems losing my virginity, he did not hesitate to help me, we are so confident that I do not hesitate to give me a solution to my problem, swap our bodies.

He found a spell on the internet that when said at the same time by two people would make them switch bodies, so one day after school we went to my house when my mother was at work and in my room we both began to say in unison the strange words of a language that I had never heard. our bodies began to transform.

I continued speaking in that strange language while looking at Jeremy's face, slowly his face became mine as well as the rest of his body and when he finished saying the last sentence in front of me there is an exact copy of my body, look down Jeremy's new look, my Asian features, short stature, even longer messy hair were transferred to him, as was his strong jaw, long legs and thick arms full of protruding veins were transferred to me.

-DUDE! this shit if it worked! you look exactly like me!-he looked up at me surprised to see what the rest of us saw in him, a gigantic muscle, her clothes were too big for her now, while mine was squeezing me a little. -Dude, is that how I sound? - I also said testing Jeremy's voice, I could feel how slowly my tank top was ripping, before it completely ripped I took it off, throwing the stretched piece of clothing into a pile of dirty clothes, although I should probably throw it away in the trash when I return to my body.

Jeremy and I had swapped bodies. We took off our clothes, it was fucking strange to see my body from Jeremy's perspective, my body was quite average, somewhat plump, but I didn't look bad, maybe he was right, and I just need more confidence, now I felt better than I ever felt. Stronger, taller, more hot.

I suddenly felt full of energy, every movement in Jeremy's body was so strong and felt so fast that it was difficult to walk with my powerful legs, we both looked at each other in the mirror that was in front of my room and while Jeremy examined his face With his hands I couldn't avoid doing a push-up with my magnificent biceps - Jesus Christ! a couple of inches more and they are the size of your head! - I said putting one of my mountains next to my old head just to compare the sizes.

Jeremy took off his old shirt that was now too big for him and tossed it to me, his shorts fell off on their own, leaving him in just a pair of boxers that were too big for his new body. We were both fully dressed, we came to an agreement. We would change again after I lost my virginity in his body from him, and he had a little fun with some girl to test how it feels to lose my virginity in my body.

Take his things, the keys to his house, his phone and leave him alone at my house to get used to a bit, I was anxious so, so I wasted no minute and unlocked Jeremy's phone to look at his contact list and to my surprise had been texting Violet the sexiest and most popular girl in high school.

He had only spent 20 minutes in Jeremy's handsome body, and he had already found someone to fuck, Flirting when you are taller, muscular and handsome was really simple … but why DOES NOT GET A FUCKING INCH GET UP THIS DICK?

Everything was going so well until we got to the motel, and she started undressing, when I realized that my little friend was not in the mood to get up at all, I pretended to have diarrhea and ran to the hotel bathroom while the hot girl stayed waiting for me in the bed, all the stress began to affect me and my body began to sweat and get hot from humiliation

-What's wrong with me? - I looked in the mirror, it was the face of my best friend Jeremy, now he was handsome, now he was attractive, now he had huge muscles, now he had a huge cock, why? …

Without realizing it now I had a huge erection as I looked at Jeremy's body, I wanted to stop, go to the side room and fuck the girl who was there, but I couldn't. Flex one of my arms, just to be able to look at him, I put my other hand to my cock and I began to stimulate my cock, I looked at my sweaty armpit and I could not resist dipping my nose into the sweaty dregs of Jeremy, they were so smooth my tongue didn't feel a trace of scratchiness because he used to shave completely for amateur bodybuilding competitions.

It didn't take too long to ejaculate. I was very excited by all the new sensations. I had never felt so good in my whole life even though I just masturbated was the best thing I had ever tried, I fixed my gaze on the mess I had made in the bathroom and at that moment I finally realized -I am… .gay ? - I didn't know what it meant to be gay, but I was sure of one thing. I can't give it back now that I know there's something better than having sex with a hot girl is having sex with your best friend's hot body and loving it properly.

I can't give him back his body from him now that I'm experiencing so much pleasure. I refuse to give up this body and this life, I do n't know how Jeremy will take it but if I can keep his body from him I do n't care, I just hope Jeremy is enjoying being straight, maybe he might like it almost as much as me

Hey folks! if you like bodyswap stories take a look at my Ko-fi, I have a lot of more stories, and you can help me keep creating more stories!

[queenshelby]

Pool Party (One Shot)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: SMUT with a lack of plot, huge age gap

Words: 3,656

Notes: In this fic, Ruby is 19 years old. Tommy is in his mid-forties and married to Lizzie which, of course, does not prevent him from having some fun here and there.

It was a sunny afternoon and, just like most weekends these days, you spent the day with your best friend Ruby Shelby.

Unlike you, Ruby was rather wealthy after becoming involved in her father’s company, Shelby Company Limited, and, even though she was working only on the legitimate side of the business, everyone in the Birmingham area knew that Shelby Company Limited had, in the past, been funded through drug money and pay-offs.

In the past, these pay offs and drug deals were facilitated by the Peaky Blinders, a gang involved in organised crime and run by no other than Thomas Shelby, being Ruby’s father himself.

He was a bad man and even though you knew about his criminal past, you somehow felt attracted to him. He was handsome and rather intimidating which was something that, in itself, turned you on quite a lot.

He was the kind of man you knew you could never have and, of course, being attracted to your friend’s father was somewhat taboo and forbidden, making it even more interesting for you.

You knew that you wanted to have him, just that once. You wanted him to take you and make you his and it was this very same Sunday afternoon that you took a shot at this very famous Birmingham gangster when making your way into his office unannounced.

His wife Elizabeth was around and so were most of the maids, which meant that you had to be quiet.

Ruby was busy by the pool with some other friends and you excused yourself, pretending that you needed a rest.

Ten minutes later…

When you walked into Tommy’s office a few minutes after leaving the pool, you were surprised to find it empty. The door had been unlocked but there was no sight of the man you had hoped to see.

He had disappeared and, after taking a quick look at the golden clock sticking out from above the door, you decided to wait.

You waited for ten minutes at least until, suddenly, you were startled by a bang.

The door opened and then shut again loudly, causing you to jump and turn around.

“Mr Shelby” you gasped but he did not appear to be amused.

“Can I help you or have you found what you were looking for?” was what he asked, thinking that you were spying on him or looking for something that could hurt him and his family.

“Uhm, I have actually” you stammered before approaching him slowly but he still seemed to be on guard.

“And what may that be, eh?” he asked before reaching for your wrist, trying to see what you were holding on to.

“You” you responded quickly while opening your hand, revealing the red velvet lipstick you had taken from Ruby’s room and put on for him.

“Me?” your friend’s father then asked while the lipstick dropped to the floor. “And what do you want from me?” Tommy then went on to ask while letting go of your wrist.

“Just you” you stammered again and, even though you were wearing a shiny silk bikini that was clearly gaining his attention by now, you did not feel confident enough to tell him that, ideally, you wanted him to bend you over his desk and fuck you. He was just too intimidating for you to say such a thing.

“You need to be a bit more specific Love” Tommy chuckled, causing you to nod nervously while still avoiding the question.

“What is it that you want me to do for you?” he then asked again, this time more impatiently than before and it was obvious to you that, by this point, he was getting rather frustrated with the lack response you gave him.

“I…uhm…” you thus stammered before, suddenly, blurting it out. “I want you to fuck me, Mr Shelby” you told him while turning rather red in the face and blushing heavily with embarrassment.

“You want me to fuck you?” Tommy asked after his chin had dropped and, whilst you being in his office in a bathing suit should have been an obvious indication for him, the fact that you were his daughter’s friend alleviated that assumption.

“Yes” you confirmed and, just as you did, a thousand thoughts went through Tommy’s mind, most of which were logical reasons as to why he should not be engaging in sex with you. And yet, the more he looked at you in this silken bikini, the more those logical thoughts took a back seat to the desire rising within him.

“How old are you?” he nonetheless ought to clarify and your reaction to his question surprised you.

“Old enough” you told him firmly, causing him to cock an eyebrow.

“Twenty” you then told him, seeing that, again, he was getting a little frustrated while yet, unbeknownst to you, his cock was rock-hard and throbbing, begging for release.

“Twenty, eh?” Tommy smirked before turning around and, just when you thought that he would leave you standing there like a fool, right in the middle of his office, wearing nothing but your bathers, he locked the door.

“What are you doing?” you asked, smiling and Tommy smirked again, this time more sarcastically than before.

“Locking the door” he responded bluntly but with a half-smile on his face.

“Why?” you queried again nervously while Tommy finally approached you.

“Because we don’t want my wife or daughter to walk in on us while we fuck, do we?” Tommy responded before cornered you and traced one of his hands across your cheek.

“No, we do not” you confirmed with a gasp in your voice as his fingers moved back along your cheekbone, and tangled sharply into your hair.

You hissed air through your teeth, as the pain prickled your scalp and your chest lifted toward his body, presenting itself submissively under his grasp.

Tommy then guided you closer towards his desk and his firm grasp on your hair directed you up on to your toes, where he then pulled you even closer, and kissed you firmly. His tongue parted your lips, and took your mouth captive. The mixture of surrender and desire swirling through your body gave the kiss an intoxicating effect, and you had to place your hands against his chest to balance.

His grasp on your hair released, and he stroked the place he had previously held, as your kiss broke free.

“This needs to stay between us Love. Understood?” Tommy then said and you nodded eagerly while Tommy guided his thumb over your chin seductively before taking off his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves, leaving his arms exposed.

“I understand Mr Shelby. Now tell, what do you want me to do for you? I am yours” you said while watching him and, again, he smirked.

“I want you to get onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Love?” he teased and, of course, you nodded again and complied with his request.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you then confirmed while starring at his manhood pushing firmly against the fabric of his pants.

‘Very good” Tommy cooed. “Now take out my cock and let me watch those velvety lips wrap around it” Tommy then said with a deep growl which was reverberating through your needy body and making your belly flutter hotly. He was so sure of himself and this aroused you even more.

‘It would be my pleasure” you told him as you reached for his crotch with shaking hands before unclasping his belt and undoing the zipper of his black pants nervously.

‘Common Love, we don’t have all day, eh” he then chuckled, seeing how nervous you were and, with that, you finally managed to undo what needed to be undone and pushed down his pants and briefs in one go.

At his height, his cock hovered just above your waiting lips and your eyes traced longingly over the veins coiling down his thick shaft to the neat tuft of dark hair around the base.

Your hand went immediately to Tommy’s length, stroking it gently and, just after a groan escaped his lips, he again gave you the hurry up.

‘Open your mouth Love and show me your tongue’ he said and you nervously complied with his request.

"Yes Mr Shelby" you gasped again, your voice a breathless whine.

“Good, now run it over my cock and then wrap your lips around it” Tommy instructed and you bucked up on your knees, getting into position with your parted lips hovering just above his waiting cock. Your eyes stayed low, fixed on his crotch and, just as you starred into his pelvis, you gently licked his head, tasting the salty precum that had already pooled in his slit.

You then wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, the musky smell of his manhood filling your nostrils and sending heat flooding through your heaving chest.

Tommy groaned as soon as your lips made contact with his throbbing shaft but then you made your first mistake. You reached up with one trembling hand to hold his cock by the base, meaning to steady his shaft as you worked your lips deeper. Your tentative fingers wrapped around him, feeling the delightful stiffness in your submissive grasp, the throbbing heat of him, pulsing with desire for your warm lips and soft tongue.

You then started to lean forward, meaning to take more of his length inside your mouth, but Tommy stopped you.

"No Love. Do it properly, eh. Keep those hands behind your back and just use your mouth" Tommy snapped and your disobedient hand was flying behind you to clasp the other there in the small of your back, clasping your wrists firmly.

“Good. Now open up wide and take my cock into your throat” Tommy instructed before you resumed to use your mouth to hold his cock without using your hands, cradling the head between your soft lips. Craning up, you started to slide yourself down, taking a little more of him each time. His stiff cock pressed down on your waiting tongue, stretching your lips wider as you worked your way deeper.

“You are doing well” Tommy said as your pussy ached with desire at the taste of his skin, the warmth and hardness of him filling your mind and drowning you in the sensation of his manly organ pressed inside your waiting mouth.

"Use your tongue" he then growled and you shivered before curling your tongue up, letting the soft muscle tease around the tip of his cock, just gently brushing over what you know is achingly sensitive skin where the spongy head meets the shaft. Your reward moments later was a low groan of pleasure in Tommy’s deep voice.

“This feels good. Keep going” Tommy told you as his muscled legs tensed on either side of you. Your tongue darted back around, flickering over the small, stretched sliver of skin where his foreskin met the head of his erection. He groaned again, and you could feel the pulsing throb of his shaft against your lips as his cock responded to your attention. Your skin tingled with longing anticipation, knowing you are managing to please him.

"Now take me deeper” Tommy then demanded and, before you had time to think, he took hold of the back of your head and forced you down his cock. You whimpered as he made you lean forward, your stretched lips sliding almost halfway down his length before he allowed you to draw back, then repeating again. The third time, you pressed your lips deeper, taking almost his entire length until you felt the hard tip of his cock pressing painfully against the entrance to your throat. A small discomfort, easily ignored in your need to obey.

“Good girl. Fuck. Keep going” Tommy purred as you held him there for a few moments, feeling a slight ache in your chest as your lungs protested. Then, finally he let go of you and you leaned up again, leaving his pulsing shaft glistening with saliva as your stretched lips glid back along his length until only the head rested against your fluttering tongue.

“You look absolutely delightful like this Sweetheart” Tommy smirked as you snatched a breath through your nose, the scent of him filling the very air you breathe. Then, it began again and he forced you to lean forward and his cock pressed inside your mouth once more.

Quickly enough, you relaxed into the rhythm of what Tommy made you do and you let your body and your need to please take over. The slow count from one to three settled into an easy habit, and you found yourself considering just how you felt right now. But you considered Tommy’s responses too, the way his breath hitched when you licked at that one particular spot near the head of his cock, the tenseness in his legs when you took his shaft deeper that told you just how much he enjoyed every moment.

"I am close” Tommy then murmured, his voice echoing your unspoken thoughts. "Look at me" he ordered and you paused at that, your tongue still delicately resting on the tip of Tommy’s erection.

You complied with his orders and a pair of blue eyes starred back at you, dulled with hooded pleasure as your tongue continued playing over the tip of his cock. You sucked on his shaft and he moaned again, his lips trembling. Your heart soared at the obvious pleasure on his handsome face, knowing that you were the cause of all of it.

"Good Girl. Keep going and make me cum in your mouth” Tommy went on to say while his warm hand landed on your head and he guided your movements once more. With a harsh grip on your hair, he made you lean forward and you almost choked on his shaft as the thick head of his cock slammed into the entrance to your throat. Your tongue moved like a serpent, writhing in your mouth, and sliding across every inch of his skin that you could reach, while your lips wrap around his shaft as you sucked lushly, the wet, sloppy sounds of your eager blowjob filling the room.

Tommy then groaned again and you could feel his cock swell in your mouth and his balls tightening against your chin. His breath caught, and just like that, you felt his hot cum spattering across your throat. His hips jerked back as he orgasmed, some of his bitter sweet seed spraying over your tongue instead, filling your mouth with the taste of his semen. His cock popped free of your lips, the last few pearly drops spattering across your lips and chin. You kneeled there, frozen in place, your eyes still fixed on his face as he gasped and panted for breath. Your own pussy ached and throbbed with needy heat, but the distraction of your own fierce arousal was easily ignored...for now at least.

"Hold it in your mouth” Tommy then said and you held as much of his thick load as you could in your mouth, the taste and smell of his cum filling your senses. "Now look up at me..." he ordered and you complied with his request while your cheeks puffed out to keep as much of the cum inside as you could until he said the unthinkable. "Now swallow it, every drop” he told you and after nodding reluctantly, your throat tensed as you gulp down the load, the slick cum sliding easily down into your waiting belly. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue, and you could feel the heat of it.

“Was this to your satisfaction Mr Shelby?” you then asked with a needy look on your face.

“It was” Tommy confirmed before pulling you to your feet.

“You did well Love” he then said before pressing his lips on to yours in a haste, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he had just cum in your mouth and, just as you were expected you gave into the kiss.

Just as Tommy was kissing you, his hand came in between your thighs and he ran his fingers through your wetness.

“You are so fucking wet for me, eh” Tommy said with great satisfaction after he pulled his mouth away from your lips and placed his fingers onto them, making you taste your own wetness.

“Of course I am Mr Shelby” you told him and, again Tommy smirked.

“Good” he told you before giving you some further instructions. “Now come over here and lean over my desk. I want to fuck you from behind and, when I do, I expect you not to make a sound. Is that understood?” Tommy then said and, of course, you nodded once more and complied with his request.

You leaned across his large cedar desk and looked back at him expectantly and, just as you did, he pushed down your bikini bottoms to reveal your naked ass and pussy.

“Your pussy looks rather inviting Love. So wet and tight” Tommy said just as you saw that his cock was hard and ready again but, when he walked behind you and aligned himself with your wetness, you began to tremble.

“Has anyone ever fucked you like this? From behind over a fucking desk?” he then asked and you shook your head.

“No Mr Shelby” you confirmed and a smile formed across his face.

“Well, Love, this may be a little uncomfortable at first then, but you will learn to enjoy it” Tommy then told you as his hands began roaming over your back and ass, squeezing at your flesh.

You moaned, especially when his hands came around to your front and began squeezing your breasts which you lifted off the desk just as his hands demanded. Looking down you could see his hands kneading the tender mounds, playing with your nipples.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, Tommy pressed into you from behind, his cock rubbing along the length of your wet pussy, making you yearn for him to turn you over and spread your thighs open for him.

But this was not what he had planned and, instead, Tommy pulled one of his hands away from your breasts in order to line himself up with your pussy, and he began to push into you from behind. You gasped with this novel sensation as Tommy’s cock rubbed the insides of your pussy in a completely new way. He pushed into you all the way in one stroke until his groin met up with your ass cheeks and you could feel your flesh pressing against his body. The sensation made you moan and wiggle as you luxuriated in this new self-indulgence.

Then he pulled out and slammed in again, taking your breath away and rocking your body.

“Oh god” you moaned as you felt him all the way in your stomach. It was painful but also incredibly erotic.

Tommy’s hands moved around and started kneading your breasts again, making you moan as you pushed back against him.

With every thrust, you could feel your elbows buckling a little, and your wrists were starting to hurt as you grasped the cedar and you did not like how that distracted you from the pleasure you were feeling. With that, you lowered yourself to your elbows, which had the pleasant effect of lifting your ass into a better position.  

Liking your new position, Tommy slid back and put his hands on your hips so that he could admire the way his cock looked split open your pink pussy. He liked seeing you like this, taking him from behind and you moaned over and over again as you were impaled by his powerful thrusts.

Wetting his finger in his mouth, Tommy then pushed it against your yet still unexplored opening and was pleased to see that your body easily opened up and accepted it.

You were shocked and confused by what he was doing and, yet, your groans of pleasure got louder as he added a second finger.

“Oh god I feel so full” you moaned as you gave into the pleasure without thinking about how wrong it was and, after a little while, Tommy pulled his fingers from that tempting hole and used both his hands on your hips to pump you from behind even more powerfully, glorying in your cries of pleasure as he claimed you as his.

Soon, Tommy’s thrusts were coming harder and faster, and even though you were more stable on your elbows, you could feel him pushing you forward.

Reaching underneath your body, Tommy sought out your clit with his fingers, and you let out a cry of rapture as he began rubbing the engorged nub of pleasure. Your legs and arms trembled with the effort of holding yourself up as ecstasy threatened to overcome your senses, and Tommy continued to pound at you from the rear. As his fingers continued to rub, you could feel the heady tingling rush of your orgasm overtaking you, and you collapsed before him... he followed you down, his cock thrusting hard into your pussy and impaling you as you almost collapsed on the desk before him.

You could feel him growing bigger inside of you as you writhed with elated gratification, and your orgasm grew as, finally, you felt a strange but extremely pleasant sensation inside of you as Tommy was filling you with his seed.

It felt sensational and, whilst you were incredibly sore, you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you like this and, after you finally came down from your high, you felt like your body was made of jelly. You felt so drained and shaky and then you moaned a little as Tommy’s lips and tongue pressed against your back, making your body jerk.

‘You did well Sweetheart. I quite enjoyed that’ he cooed before pulling his softening cock out of you and guiding you onto your feet, allowing you to turn around and catch your breath.

‘Oh god so did I” you barely managed to say and, just as you spoke, Tommy kissed you once more.

‘I have work to do now, but we should do this again sometime soon” he announced and you knew that this wasn’t going to be just a one-off encounter.

“I would like that Mr Shelby” you thus confirmed before retrieving your panties from the floor and putting them back on just before his cum could drip out of your well used hole.

“Good. Now clean yourself before you go back into the pool, eh” he smirked and you gave him a quick wink before you disappeared into the hallway.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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@cleverzonkwombatsludge

@throughgoeshamilton

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[help-i-lost-my-sock]

A Penny for Your Thoughts (Ace x Reader)

A/N: While I love cocky, confident Ace, I felt like the softer, more damaged side of him deserved some love too <3

Summary: Ace has been feeling a bit low lately, and has been isolating from Reader, and the crew. Reader goes to talk to him, and a rather emotional interaction ensues. Please see warnings.

Warnings: Ace is having an emotional, and vulnerable moment. Ace struggling with his self-worth. Mentions of alcohol usage.

Writing prompt:

"Did you just kiss me?"

"Was I not supposed to?"

"I don't know... But can you do it again?"

Tags: Ace x Reader, angst & comfort, Ace dealing with self-worth issues

Word count: 2900

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

You and Ace had been close friends for quite some time now. Very close, actually. Not quite as close as you’d have liked to be, but that did not matter much, as long as you had his friendship. Yes, if nothing else, his friendship was enough. 

Lately though, your friendship seemed to have been somewhat shaken. For some reason, Ace had been distancing from you, and all others lately. Sure, he’d still act fine when people talked to him. But that was not quite the way it used to be… The Ace you’d known so far was a bit of a chatter box - that is, when he was not fast asleep on the deck, or with his face in a plate of food. He loved to socialise with the crew, and was always offering to help wherever he felt he could be of any use. He’d often be engaged in some conversation or another, swapping tips and tops, cracking jokes, or regaling his men with tales. Now, however, he’d rather lean over the railing, gazing at the sea, lost in thought, or sit alone, isolated, than engage with others. He’d slip out during group conversations, or spend hours shut in the study, haunched over maps, and documents, working his way through endless stacks of paperwork - a task he’d always dreaded more than any other. It was not quite the same, no. 

It would be a lie to say it did not worry you. Ace was your best friend, and, if you were being honest with yourself, he was a bit more than that. It was only natural for you to notice, to miss him, and to worry. You couldn’t bring this up around others - it was clear it was not something he’d want broadcast in front of a crowd. So, you decided to speak to him as soon as you’d catch him alone. It shouldn’t be too hard. Afterall, he tended to seclude himself every chance he got those days. So, you waited. Ace had spent most of the day in the study. At lunch, there was not enough privacy to speak to him, so you let it slide. Afterwards, he disappeared, and you had no idea where. 

Eventually, night had fallen, and the Whitebeards were having a party on the main deck. It seemed like your plan would have to wait another day. The crowd grew and grew, as the music played, and the booze flowed. It was not unusual for pirates to party, and the parties on the Moby Dick never disappointed. Or at least, they never had, until this point. For, as expected, you could not find Ace anywhere in the crowd, and a party without him simply felt incomplete. 

You spent some of the night gliding through the crowds, slipping from clique to clique, from conversation to conversation, eventually setting camp up by yourself by the refreshments table. You sighed as you scanned the swaying masses, as they sang, and danced, and chatted… as if they hadn’t even noticed. 

“Hey,” came a voice from behind you, as a hand gently grasped your shoulder. You turned around to find Marco, and Thatch. Thatch had a compassionate smile on his face, and, while Marco didn’t show it on his lips, the same compassion, and understanding could be read in his eyes as he looked down at you, secluded as you were, camping alone by the booze. 

“We know,” Marco says softly. You tilt your head sideways, questioning him with a silent look. 

“You must be thinking we hadn’t noticed how Ace has been drawing himself back lately,” he starts, as he takes his hand off your shoulder, and turns to look at the merry-makers. “How can the crew party as if they don’t even notice? But we do notice. We all do.” Now that he mentioned it, it dawned on you that Ace’s presence was not the only absence here tonight - a certain carefreeness seemed to escape many that night, and certainly those close to Ace - you, the commanders, Pops, and the men of his division. Now that you were aware of it, you saw it nearly everywhere - in their eyes, as they, too, scanned the crowd; on their lips, curled in half-smiles; on the very countenance of their bodies. They could all tell something - or rather, someone - was missing that night. 

“We were hoping a party might draw him out,” joined Thatch. “The plan was to get some booze in him, and hope it’ll loosen him up enough to tell us what’s wrong - how we can help. But, as you can see…” 

“He didn’t show,” finished Marco. 

“He never showed up,” you said simultaneously. 

“Yup…But!” he added with excitement, and you saw a smile creep on Marco’s face as he turned to look at you once more. 

“We got one more thing we’d like to try.” 

“Ah, and that is where I come in, I presume?” You turned to look at them, swirling your drink, as you waited for them to continue. 

“Yep,” they confirmed in unison, before Marco proceeded to explain. “See, we found him sulking alone on the quarterdeck. Seems he came out for the booze, but didn’t stick around for the company.” 

“Ouch! Well, that’s flattering,” you remarked jokingly, knowing full well it was nothing personal. 

“Yeah, well, he won’t talk to us,” explained Thatch. 

“Yep, we’re clearly part of the ‘company’ he seems to be avoiding… Which brings us to your part.” 

“Ah, I get it. You want me to go up there, and see if I fare any better than you two.” 

Thatch was smiling, while Marco chuckled at your deduction, giving you a small smirk. 

“No,” he answered, “we know you’ll fare better than us.” The small, lopsided grin on Marco’s face made you cock an eyebrow for an instant, but you quickly brushed it off, as Thatch joined in once more.

“Yeah, we know you two are close. Hell, no one’s closer to him than you, except maybe his brothers,” added Thatch, matter-of-factly. 

“So, what we want from you is to go up there and bring him back to Earth.” 

You looked at them - they clearly cared about him, and were now resting their hopes on you, giving you a chance to help. They were giving you a chance to speak to him alone about whatever it is that’s been bothering him, just the way you’d told yourself you’d do. You glanced at your drink, swirling it around some more. Thatch’s words about how close you and Ace were made you feel warm inside. Maybe there was hope for you yet… But now was not the time for that. Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked up at your fellow conspirators. 

“Leave it to me!” you declared, shooting them a grin. 

“I knew we could count on you,” cheered Thatch, with a big smile, while Marco kept on his usual lazy smirk, giving you a small nod. They refilled your drink, and shoved a beer for Ace in your hands, before ushering you to the quarterdeck. 

You took a deep breath trying to calm your nerves, before you strutted off, shouting over your shoulder “Wish me luck!” 

“Good luck!” the guys responded, as you disappeared behind a corner. 

It was a warm night, and the skies were clear, revealing a veritable sea of stars above your head, complete with a bright full moon, and with nary a  cloud in sight. The music from the party was fading as you walked further and further away, towards the quarterdeck; its spritely rhythms now barely enough to muffle the clicking sound of your footsteps on the wooden planks. 

Indeed, way in the back, hidden out of sight, was Ace. Slumped on the deck, with his back resting against a wall, a couple of empty beers around him, and one bottle hanging by the neck in his hand. His head tilted upwards, his eyes fixed on the stars above him. He seemed so calm, so quiet, and yet, not serene in the slightest. It was as if the silent sorrow in his soul crept its way towards you, and took you by the hand, when his eyes suddenly turned to you. A smile made its way onto his lips, but failed to reach his tired eyes. ‘Had he been crying?’ 

“Hey, Y/N! What are you doing here?” Ace tried to act cheerful, and play pretend; he tried to hide his expression by finishing his drink, but you knew him far too well for that, and saw right through his act. 

“I heard you were out here,” you confessed as you went to sit down by his side, handing him the beer. “I haven’t seen you in a while,” you continued, as Ace took the bottle from your hand, “and I missed you. We’ve all been missing you.” You spoke softly, your voice barely above the sounds surrounding you - the music, the clamour from the main deck, with the clanging of beer-filled mugs, and the familiar sounds of waves splashing rhythmically against the sides of the ship. Ace averted his gaze from you, lest you saw the truth in his eyes. But you already knew. You’ve seen it the moment he looked your way. 

Shuffling around a bit, you shifted position, and made yourself more comfortable against the wall, by his side. You allowed a moment to pass in silence, not intending to come off too forcefully, as you both watched the stars twinkling above your heads. You took a sip of your drink. The sloshing of liquid punctuated the silence before you spoke. 

“Care you tell me what’s got you so down? Hm?” you questioned, as gently as you could. Slowly, you turned your head towards him, giving him a side-look, and a soft, half-hearted smile as you waited for his response. 

Ace pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them; the bottle you’d given him still hanging in his hand. He thought he hid it better than that, even from you. But he should have known you’d see right through, and if he were being honest with himself, deep down, he was glad you did. He needed you to pull him out of the spiralling nightmares that had become his thoughts. But that didn’t make it any easier to get the words out. 

Ace rested his chin on his arms, staring straight ahead, at nothing in particular, as his mind scampered to string words together. Though his mouth was hidden behind one of his arms, you could see he was working on an answer by the frown that weighed on his brow. A few moments passed in silence before you placed your hand on his shoulder blade, gently rubbing his back. His eyes darted up to yours, his mouth hanging ever so slightly open, before closing it again, and averting his gaze once more. The warmth of your hand on his skin was comforting, safe, inviting; inviting him to tell you of his woes. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, barely audible over the commotion of the party on the main deck. 

“What for?” 

“For making you worry… You, and Marco, and Thatch, and Izou, and Pops, and all the others…I’m sorry for shutting you all out these past few days… weeks. I’m just…” Ace paused for a moment, as he turned his head away from you again, and fixed his eyes on the swaying waves before him. “I… haven’t been myself lately, is all.” 

“Ace, it’s alright. We’ve all got our darker days. It’s - “ 

Ace draws a shaky breath, before cutting you off. “I know it’s not fit for a commander - t’ give in like that, and shut you all out. I should have done better… You all deserve better…” 

The hand that was rubbing his back froze in place, as you stared at him in shock - eyes wide, and slack jawed - struggling to believe the words you were hearing. Seeing Ace crumbling down like this certainly struck a chord. You and Ace were close, but this was a side of him you’d never seen before. Was this the same daredevil you’d grown so used to over time? Sure, you were aware that he wasn’t always that same cocky bastard. You knew he had a softer side too, and you knew he was damaged too. You knew that he struggled with his past - his ancestry, especially - wondering if he really deserved to be where he was, and be loved as he was. Sometimes he’d wondered if maybe he could have done more for Luffy - if he was a good older brother. Other times he wondered if he was doing right by Pops, and the other Whitebeards. You knew all of this, and then some. But you’d never seen him so broken before. How long had he been carrying this stone around his neck? At a loss of words, all you could do was stare at him - lips trembling as you tried to form words; throat tightening, as you tried to hold back tears. 

“I’m sorry you’re missing out on the party to sit here with me,” he continued, “but I also wanna say thank you. Thank you for your time, and thank you for your company.” He adjusted his sitting position, stretching out the leg nearest to you and allowing it to bend to the side, as his arm hung over his bent knee. “I hope you know how much I value your friendship… despite the past couple of weeks… And thanks for the drink too,” he chuckles, a bittersweet smile on his face as he takes a swig, before quickly resuming his monologue. “And thank Marco and Thatch too for trying to cheer me up. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you guys. Y'all deserve better than someone like me,” he trailed off. His head briefly dipped down against his arm, before he quickly lifted it up, and tilted it back against the wall. It was as if he were afraid that if he allowed his head to hang like that he might break down, and cry. His lips curled, and trembled with a bittersweet smile. You watched as his brows furrowed, and the corners of his mouth twitched, before he covered his eyes with his hand. From his shaking lips came a sound hard to pinpoint. Was it a sob? A scoff? A chortle? Whatever it was, it clearly captured his inner turmoil. 

Seeing him like this disarmed you completely. You gawked at him for a moment longer, unaware that large, warm tears had started spilling from your eyes, down your cheeks, and down your neck. You watched him shake his head, as if in disbelief of the situation too - in disbelief of the things he’s said, in disbelief of having allowed someone to see him like that. 

The shock still prevented you from forming proper sentences, but you could no longer sit by silently. “Ace…” 

Hearing his name carried on a breathy whisper snaps him out of his spiral, and pulls his attention towards you. Ace hardly had time to register the pained look on your tear-stained face, before you cupped his cheeks in your hands, and pressed your lips against him. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing out the tears past your lashes. The kiss felt hot, with a thick blend of love, and pain; with all the laden words that have spilt, and all those that would not come; with all emotions that you both had been trying to hide. It wasn’t long before you slowly pulled away from him, keeping his face between your palms. The kiss may not have lasted long, but it was enough to get him to shut up, and cease his self-deprecatory verbiage, if only for a moment. You took a moment to scan the shocked, flustered expression on his freckled face before speaking. 

“I’ll decide what I deserve,” you stated, finally letting go of his face. 

You watched as Ace, who seemed perfectly stupefied by your little stunt, attempted - and failed - to pull his wits about him. 

“Did… Did you just kiss me?” He looked cute as a button as he pointed at himself, confused, as if trying to comprehend his own question. You chuckled at his reaction. 

“Was I not supposed to?” You may have chuckled at his reaction, but the truth is that you did it on an impulse, and now the reality of it all was setting in for you too. You’d had a crush on him for ages now, and never in a million years would you have imagined things going this way. But what’s done is done, and this was the moment of truth. Every moment it took for him to answer felt like an eternity, as you kept wondering - What was he going to do? What was he going to say? You couldn’t help but avert your eyes from his, as you felt a blush creep onto your face. You cursed the full moon for its glow so bright, for you were nearly sure Ace could see the deep pink darkening your cheeks. 

“I don’t know, but… Can you do it again?” 

Looking up, you found Ace watching you, expectantly, with a soft, albeit nervous, smile, and a blush to rival your own.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’d say you deserve some more.”

[ghcstao3]

another mermay post 🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️ hehehehehe

short part two of siren!ghost x sailor!soap

-

In the darkness of the cave, with nothing but the bioluminescent something speckling the damp walls to illuminate the space, Soap isn’t sure how much time has passed since Ghost’s departure.

All Soap knows is that he’s cold, wet, and hungry, and has no idea how long he’s been left in this cave—and if there’s any way out.

He doesn’t venture far, not with what little visibility he has, but he feels along the slimy, algae-coated walls for any hidden crevice, any opening, any alcove. When he’s unsuccessful in that regard, a dares to inch toward the water, peering into its dark, murky depths, and wondering just how deep it goes. How deep underwater he is, in this little pocket of air that will most certainly run out.

And if it’s so deep that he couldn’t make it back up to the surface on his own.

Soap is curled up against one side of the cave when Ghost reappears, hauling fish, oysters, and tattered, sodden clothing of which Soap could very well guess the origins.

Ghost nudges everything as far up the stone floor as he can without having to push himself out of the water, but Soap never moves to accept. Fear still encases every one of his senses, even if his life had been spared. Even if Ghost said he wouldn’t kill him.

“You can’t keep me here, you know. Not forever,” Soap declares shakily, wincing at the echo of his words. Ghost just stares at him, bobbing gently in the abyss of water, those amber eyes now two pitch black holes boring into Soap.

“I can’t even… how would I even cook and eat the fish? I’ll starve if I don’t first run out of air,” Soap continues.

Ghost watches Soap for another long, silent moment. There isn’t enough light for Soap to place his expression, but his lack of reply is worrying enough.

“I won’t let that happen,” Ghost eventually says. There’s decisiveness to his answer, but in the echoey confines of the cavern, Soap swears there’s a slight waver in confidence. Like Ghost hadn’t thought this completely through, despite the cocksure way he had acted up until this moment.

“I’ll need sunlight,” Soap argues weakly. “And to be dry.”

Ghost outwardly falters. Soap can imagine a plethora of thoughts and emotions crossing the siren’s face, all obscured in the dim lighting. Soap waits and waits as silence only stretches again for what are only minutes, but feel like hours.

“Then I’ll find somewhere new,” states Ghost, before sinking back into the water with that same air of mystery as he had the first time.

Soap sighs, careful to fill his lungs minimally, lest he suffocate.

Well, he supposes—maybe wringing out the old clothes and laying them out could at least make for a somewhat more comfortable place to die, and the oysters might be enough to tie him over as to not make his death nearly as miserable.

Maybe he shouldn’t have argued with Ghost in the rowboat. Maybe he should have pretended to be lured in by the female sirens’ song and be put to death far quicker than whatever torture this is, that Ghost has planned.

Dejectedly, Soap squeezes out what excess water he can from the fabric, bunches it up in a pile and lays down on the makeshift pillow. The constant drip, drip, drip makes it impossible to sleep, so instead he just shuts his eyes and listens to the sounds of water lapping the stone floor, waiting for the swish and ripple of a disturbance to mark Ghost’s return—if there ever would be one in time.

[lunicho]

(send riize asks to @angeltsan)

{𐙚 10:43} l. anton + l. sohee

♡ 3.8k | dom!anton, subby inexperienced!sohee, fem!reader, cuckholding, oral (f!receiving), premature ejaculation, unprotected sex (don't be like them), cumming inside, cum eating, anton is kinda an asshole, sohee is kinda pathetic

♡ a/n: DON'T READ THE LAST SENTENCE OMG ITS SO BAD IM SORRY,, im so bad at ending fics,,, anyways its been tew long since i wrote smth new so feast my loves,, i've kept y'all starving fr (i'm sorry) also new fic layout 😝😝 gonna be updating stuff on my blog so yeahhh.

you'd been with anton for a while. over that time you've come to learn a lot about him and things that he likes. of all the things you've learned, this might be the craziest one. 

a momentary silence fell over the room as you looked down at your hands, fiddling a little. you crossed your arms over your chest and thought hard. “okay wait.. you wanna do what?” 

anton tried to explain again, his voice quiet, “well sohee likes you.. and i know you like him and i'm okay with that.. i think we should let him have sex with us.. at least once.” 

you continued thinking, “i mean yeah i like sohee, but i don't know if i like him like that.. a- and how long has he liked me?” you were sort of struggling to wrap your head around the whole thing, the idea of sohee liking you as more than a friend never crossing your mind. 

“the same amount of time i've liked you, we both wanted you originally.. i just ended up being the one to make it official.” you frowned a little at this, suddenly feeling bad for sohee. you don't know if it was pity or if you really wanted this but something in you wanted to say yes to the whole idea. 

you weren't vanilla by any means when it came to sex but bringing one of anton's close friends into your bed was a little daunting, the idea of being the reason to ruin their friendship scared you. anton contrasted from you, he had a very calm demeanor about the whole thing, this both intrigued and intimidated you. 

“okay, we can do it..” you looked up at anton from where you sat, watching his eyes light up. he placed a large hand on the back of your head, just his gaze made you feel small. with his other hand he hooked a finger under your chin to tilt your head upward, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. his kisses alone could take your breath away.

when you first got with anton he was nothing like this. he was shy, awkward, and honestly just overall submissive to you but the more you got to know him and the more confident he got, his personality began to really come out. he's still like that sometimes but the way he kisses you, the way he carries himself at times, even the way he fucks you is so different.

you whimper under your breath, pulling away slowly moments later, your teeth tugging at your lip gently, “so when do you want to do this?” you gazed up at the boy, your arms wrapping around him as you wait for his response. 

“i'll bring him over.. we can kind of feel things out you know? maybe watch some movies and have some snacks beforehand?” you nod at this, a wave of nerves washing over you, “what if something goes wrong? like what if you and sohee aren't friends after this?” 

anton chuckles at you, his cocky demeanor making you press your legs together. “we're still friends after i got the girl he wanted, what makes you think he wouldn't want to be friends after this? i’m practically doing him a favor.”

you nod at this, it's somewhat true, but you didn't want to let it bother you, anton was relaxed about it and this was his friend after all so you were okay with it.

you'd never paid much attention to the way sohee interacted with you until now. the way his hands would pull away extra fast when you'd hand him things, the fear of accidentally touching you taking over him. you even noticed the way he stared at you when he thought you weren't looking, you'd caught him out of the corner of your eye a few times now. 

you brought a bowl of popcorn over to the coffee table that was in the middle of your living room. the tv was on, waiting for commands from the remote.

sohee sat alone on the couch to the side of the one you were on, the bottoms of his  feet facing the tv and he kept his eyes trained on the screen, or at least that's what he wanted you to think. you see him now though, zoned in at the way he stares at your leg that's poking out of the blanket or how he just stares at you while you reach for another handful of popcorn. 

you were sat in anton's lap, his back leaned against the arm of the couch while you laid on your side cuddling into his chest. you couldn't help the way your gaze wandered to sohee, curiosity flooding your mind. you'd never thought about him differently, he'd always just been anton's friend but you'd be lying if you said you still thought of him that way now. 

you wondered what he'd look like naked, how his lips would feel on yours, how it'd feel to have his and anton’s hands on you at the same time, the thought made you squirm slightly in your spot. 

“mind wandering?” you turned to anton with a smile, your head gently nodding. anton adjusted you in your spot, your back now flush to his chest. there was a small blanket lazily thrown across the two of you, the fabric covering your lap slightly. 

anton's hands were gentle on you, big but delicate. you weren't looking at the tv at all anymore, your mind focused on the feeling of anton's hands on your body. he drags his hands across your waist and hips, fingertips slightly sliding across the waistband of your shorts. 

he'd specially requested for you to wear this pair of shorts, it happened to be his favorite pair and apparently sohee's as well. the two of them seemed to have a lot more in common than you originally thought. anton also specially requested that you “forgot” to wear panties tonight. 

his hand easily dipped into your pants, two of his fingers falling to your wet hole. he firmly dragged two fingers up your cunt, wetting it fully in the process. you breathed out of your nose, your legs opening up more for him. 

his pointer and ring fingers push your lips apart, his middle finger lazily flicking your bud up and down. neither one of you faced the tv at this point, anton placed lazy kisses on your shoulder while you soaked up the pleasure. 

anton speaks in a barely audible murmur into your ear, your eyes slowly peeling open at the sound of his voice, “let's show you off, call for him baby.” 

you nod along with what he said, your mind already feeling foggy. he dips both fingers into your hole, his long slender fingers curving up into you, “s-sohee..” 

he visibly perks up at the sound of your voice, his body stiffening. he was trying so hard to mind his business, you and anton moving around was so hard to ignore. he suspected something was going on but the sound of the movie drowned out the slick noises of your pussy. 

anton moved the blanket off of your lap, his fingers thrusting in and out of you harder than before. “wanna come see the pussy you've been dreaming about?” anton's tone is dripping with lust and cockiness. he's smiling at sohee, his free hand moving to grab a handful of your breast. 

your hand grips onto the arm he's fucking into you with as you feel yourself getting closer, you squeeze your eyes shut, a string of moans escaping your lips. 

sohee's frozen where he's at, already embarrassingly hard all of this is too much, he can't believe what's unfolding in front of him. 

the sound of your moans as you cum on anton's hand catches sohee's attention, he admires your beautiful expression, the one he'd daydreamed about for so long. 

your breathing is ragged, your head leaning back on anton's shoulder as you catch your breath. he let's go of your breast and uses that hand to gently grip your throat, his lips peppering kisses on your cheek as he pulls his soaked fingers out of your shorts. 

he rubs the backs of his fingers against your lips, your mouth opening for him. he slides the pads of his fingers down your throat, leaning to your ear once again. “invite him over.. let him play with you.” 

you lift your head off his shoulder,, your shorts sticking to your slick. “wanna come over here? wanna sit by me?” you pat the spot in between your legs, almost like you're calling over a puppy. sohee hesitates, his eyes trained on you. 

you could tell sohee was a bit more like anton used to be, again, shy, timid, a little awkward, and definitely not as dominant as anton is now. 

sohee nods weakly, walking over to you, unable to look either of you in the eyes, especially not anton. he didn't expect for this to somehow be so humiliating for him. he sat in front of you, shivering when he felt your hand gently rub down his arm. this made you smile, “relax hee.. i don't bite.” 

sohee let out a shaky breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. you brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it gently. anton stood up as you did this, his hands moving to your shoulders. when he moved you readjusted, one of your legs resting gently on sohee's lap. 

you could feel how hard he was under your leg, his breath hitching in his throat when you put the slightest bit of pressure on his cock. you noticed how small it was, especially in comparison to anton's but you thought that was so endearing, smiling at the idea. 

anton leaned down to your ear, his whispers tickling you slightly, “show him how you kiss me, how you make me feel good..” he places small nibbles and kisses from your ear down to your shoulder. you shut your eyes at this, a shiver falling down your spine. his firm hands grip onto your shoulders, lightly massaging them in his grasp. you sigh contently at the feeling of anton's hands on your body. 

you open your eyes again, they immediately meet sohee's pretty round orbs. “you alright if i kiss you?” you look down at his lips, suddenly noticing how pretty and soft they are. you smile and chuckle a little, noticing a few crumbs of popcorn on his lips. 

you cup his jaw in your hand, your thumb wiping away at the bits of popcorn. he wordlessly accepts your question, his head nuzzling into your grasp. you pull him in, the taste of salt spreading across your mouth when you swipe your tongue along sohee’s lip. you're quickly able to take control of the kiss, one of your hands moving to the back of his head. 

he pushes into the kiss, his body moving forward. sohee's desperate in the way that he kisses, the passion is definitely there. you can tell he's been waiting for this moment with the way he's carrying himself at this point. 

your hand snakes into the hair on the back of his head, your fingers taking hold of the strands there. you pull him away from you, a smile creeping into your face at the way he whines at the feeling of you tugging at his scalp as well as the loss of your lips. 

at this point you're more into this idea than you thought you'd be. you don't yet let go of sohee's hair, your gaze trailing up anton's body until you meet his eyes, his stare filled with satisfaction. 

“should i let him fuck me ton? don't you think he's waited so long, so patiently?” your gaze falls back on sohee, his eyes are unconsciously pleading for you. you let go of his hair, your hand caressing his face again. 

anton nods at you with a shrug, “i mean, he won't be able to fill you up like i do. his cock is so tiny, don't know if he'll even be able to make you cum.” you notice the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips, his smile widening at the sound of sohee’s sad whines. 

“be nice ton! i'm sure he can make me feel good anyways, it's not always about size, right hee?” the boy nods eagerly, another whine leaving him at the nickname you call him. “i- i can do it! can make you feel so good!” he's both shy and desperate in the way he speaks to you, you're getting impossibly wetter by the second. 

anton chuckles to himself again, his hands moving to readjust himself, he's so hard by this point but he's holding himself off. 

he gets behind you once again, his hands grabbing onto the bottom of your top. he pulls it over your head, leaving you with your bra on. he tosses your top onto the table, his eyes staring at sohee. 

sohee, although still fully dressed, feels naked under both of your gaze. he'd never seen anton have this look in his eyes before. he focuses back on you and the way you're laid out before him. 

“go on hee, take my shorts off.” your gaze is heavy on sohee, performance anxiety slowly trickling in. you cuddle back into anton, fingers intertwining with his as they rest on your chest, your legs open in front of sohee. 

with a shaky hand, sohee reaches for the waistband of your pants. he looks so cute right now, shyly moving your shorts down your body. you lift up to help him take them off your legs, the piece of clothing falling to the floor.

sohee bites his lip at the sight of your glistening pussy, swallowing hard as if his mouth was watering over it. “can i.. can i taste you first?” his voice is small and shy, but his fingertips run along your thigh, making you breath out a small moan. anton snorts at this, already knowing how it’ll play out. he leisurely runs his free hand up and down your body.

you nod eagerly at his question, your hole clenching around nothing. sohee notices this as he adjusts his position, laying on his stomach in front of you. luckily the couch is a little bit longer but one of sohee's legs still hangs off the couch, the other resting against the cushion but he doesn't mind. 

you think he looks a little silly but don't pay it much mind, finding him too pitiful to laugh. his thumb shyly runs up your slit, his big eyes looking into yours for a second. he smiles to himself, his excitement evident. 

although he asked to taste you, he actually wasn't too sure what to do, he tried to recall what he'd seen in porn videos but his mind was blank. anton noticed this and he smiled about it a little. 

“you don't even know what to do, huh?” anton knows sohee lacks experience, technically he’s not a virgin, he did have sex once before but it wasn’t much to talk about. sohee shakes his head, his facial expression making you pout at him. 

“do what feels right, me and ton will help you, okay?” you try to reassure him, giving him as much encouragement as you could. anton rolls his eyes slightly at the fact that he was volunteered but he agrees with you anyways. 

sohee musters up the courage to do something, his lips nibbling at the skin of your thigh gently. he places small kisses along your skin, his lips finally resting on your clit. you're full of anticipation, wondering what he'd do next.

a confused expression plays on your face, the movement sohee's doing with his mouth feels strange and unfamiliar. you try to decipher what doesn’t feel right, “think you’re using too much lip sohee, use your tongue.” 

he lifts his head again and nods, eager to learn from you. he sticks his tongue out, dragging it along your pussy, you suck in a breath at this, nodding to sohee. “there you go, such a good boy. anton struggled with this a bit too when we first got together.” your words encouraged sohee but were a bit of a blow to anton. sohee snickered quietly at this, noticing the way anton looked a little annoyed.

his nerves start to subside by this point, allowing him to think a little clearer. the tip of his tongue drew circles on your clit, earning a moan from you. your noises made him more confident, encouraging him to try new things. he sucks on your clit now, finding out what you like each time. 

“such a quick learner, sohee..” the soft praises that fell from your lips got him more riled up than before. you noticed his hips begin to rut into the couch as he ate you out. your hips rolled against his tongue, sohee’s whines vibrating against you. 

anton has his hands in your bra, his fingers playing with your nipples. “gonna cum y/n?” you moan in response to anton's question, your head nodding quickly. anton's fingers pinch at your sensitive buds, adding to the overall feeling. 

sohee humps the couch, his orgasm building up too quickly for him to keep up with. you moan out, your hips stuttering against his tongue. 

he slurps up your juices, his hips stilling too early as he cums in his pants. a frustrated sigh falls from sohee's lips as he accidentally ruins his own orgasm, still painfully hard. 

you sit up after this, eyes locking with sohee's, “want you to fuck me hee, wanna see what you got.” sohee's mind is cloudy, his body moving quicker than his mind can. he stands up off the couch, removing his shirt before running his hands through his hair. 

you move to help sohee out, your hands eagerly untying his pajama pants. when his pants fall down you're immediately met with the sight of his red, dripping, cock and it makes you smile up at him. 

“no underwear? must've been so eager..” you grab his length in your hand, the size easily fitting in your grasp. 

you look at it like you're investigating something, “did you cum in your pants baby?” sohee nods, suddenly feeling embarrassed again but you praise him instead, telling him how cute he is. 

you lay flat on your back now, inviting sohee between your legs again. anton is standing again, now removing his own clothes 

sohee hovers over you, one arm hooking under your leg. your hand caresses his cheek again, “fuck me pretty boy.” 

he presses into you, his hips quickly becoming flush with yours. he leans down on his elbow, his face close to yours as his hips begin to rut into yours. 

he wastes no time picking up a steady pace, his desperation taking over. his hips snap against you harshly, both of you moaning continuously.

you kiss sohee, eyes shutting tightly at the feeling of him. he's so caught up in the sensation, no thoughts in his mind right now. he feels his orgasm bud in his stomach, pulling away from the kiss. he nuzzled his face into your neck, his cum shooting into you.

“m’ sorry, so sorry!!” sohee's voice is apologetic and whiny as he speaks. you laugh quietly which catches sohee's attention, he slowly lifts his face to look at you. “it's okay, gorgeous, you're alright.” 

anton sighs, hand gently stroking his length in his grasp. he’s had enough of watching the two of you, this was his idea after all but the thought of you being left unsatisfied has him almost losing it. “let me show you how to really fuck her good.” 

he takes sohee’s place, positioning you with your ass in the air. its moments like this where you’re reminded how strong he is, the way he slightly lifts you by your hips. he spreads your pussy lips apart, the sight of sohee’s cum dripping out of you making his cock twitch.

“fuck..” anton’s big hands grip your ass cheeks firmly, just the feeling of his hands anywhere on your body makes you so needy. you reach for sohee, hands guiding him to the spot in front of you, where anton was sitting before. you grip onto sohee as you feel anton’s fingers dip into you again. sohee watches intently as anton pleases you.

the sound of your pussy rings in your ears, the slick squelching making excitement bubble in your stomach once again. anton rubs the tip of his cock against you, groaning at the feeling of you. he lines up with your opening, pressing his length into you. he slides in relatively easily because of how wet you are. you begin to feel full already, his full length not in you yet.

your hips push back on anton, moving side to side so he enters you fully. you moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. you lick your lips as you eye sohee’s smaller cock in front of you, red and leaking once again. your hand makes a fist on his length, pumping it once or twice in your grasp. sohee’s sensitive by this point, you can tell by the way his body shudders at the feeling of your hand on him.

anton's thrusts are rough and deep as he fucks into you, your body jolting forward with every hit. you muffle your moans on sohee's length, the tip of his cock tickling the back of your throat. 

sohee thrusts into your mouth as he chases his high, one hand in your hair, head thrown back in pleasure. 

your fingernails dig into the skin of sohee's hips as you feel anton repeatedly hit your sweet spot. anton smacks your ass persistently, the sting causing your eyes to roll back. 

you pull off of sohee's length, pumping him in your hand as you moan out. you come undone first, unable to catch your breath as anton continues thrusting into you. 

sohee cums next, his hand grasping onto your jaw so he can place your lips back on his tip, his cum shooting into your mouth. anton follows shortly after, his thrusts slowing down as you feel yourself being filled up once more. he slowly thrusts into you a few more times, his hands gripping you hard. 

when anton pulls out of you he admires your cunt, the sight of you dripping once again, this time with his cum makes him feel good. you hold sohee’s cum in your mouth, sitting up and turning to where they both can see you. anton loves to watch you swallow his seed so it only seems right for you to do it for the both of them. 

you open your mouth, showing the cum that pools on your tongue before you swallow it, sticking out your tongue to show them that you swallowed it. anton grins at you, kissing your cheek lovingly, “such a good girl.” 

sohee watches you, his feelings for you getting stronger, maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this after all, but he can’t go back now.

[stop-talking]

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 6)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 3.3k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, HEAVY angst, fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, mentions of masturbating.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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Derek wakes up in your arms, and decides that's exactly how he wants to start every morning from now on.

Today's the day. He's going to confess to you.

Well, if he can sneak out of bed without waking you up. That might prove to be a challenge, seeing as how you have both an arm and a leg draped over him.

Under other circumstances, he'd be content to just lay here and let you hold him. Unfortunately, there was a sort of... "incident" last night. One he desperately wants to clean up after.

So, he carefully moves your limbs, shifting slowly until he's off the bed. You stir in your sleep and he waits with bated breath, but thankfully you remain unconscious.

It's still early morning. Barely past sunrise, from what he can tell. Hopefully he'd have time to get a few things done before you inevitably realize he's gone.

As he slips out of his clothes to hop into the shower, he's suddenly extremely grateful you'd taught him how to use the washing machine. If you saw the mess he'd made of his boxers, he would probably have to off himself.

While he washes off, he goes over his plan for the day in his head. Derek has always been somewhat of a romantic, despite how things may seem. Dating is just... complicated when you're a billionaire. And the president's son. And a crackhead.

He groans and shakes himself out of his slump as he dries himself on a towel. None of those things matter here. Right now, he isn't an addict, billionaire, or the son of the president. He's just a man.

A man who desperately needs to tell you how he feels. Derek is sure if he has to spend one more "platonic" night in your bed he's going to go insane.

So, he starts to put his plan into motion.

"Half cup water... one and one-half cups mix..." He mutters, reading the instructions on the back of the box of pancake mix. Even though you've had him help cook almost every meal, he still hasn't learned much. He's an expert at standing there and stirring, sure, but actually cooking? Not really.

Pancakes, though? He's pretty confident he can make those. Hell, he could probably scramble a few eggs to go with it. You'd taught him that a couple days ago.

He wants to show you he's serious. How much he appreciates what you've done for him, and how much more he needs from you.

But what can he offer in return?

Breakfast, for a start. If he was back home, he'd either take you out somewhere nice or have his chefs prepare something. That isn't an option here, but he could make due.

Derek stands back and studies the stack of pancakes and skillet of scrambled eggs. It looks... edible? Right? Not terrible, at least.

He sighs and starts to clean up the counter. He'd made quite the mess, probably dripping an entire pancake's worth of batter everywhere. You make cooking look so easy, damnit.

Now what? Go wake you up? No, surely there's something else he can do for you. His brow furrows in concentration as he takes the dirty dishes to the sink. The sink that's already filled to the brim with old cups, plates, and cutlery.

Fuck. Guess he's doing the dishes.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You wake up feeling uneasy. Something's missing.

No... someone is missing. Where's Derek?

After checking his bedroom, you stumble downstairs, still in your pajamas.

"Derek?" You call out, getting a little more anxious with every empty room you pass through. Where the hell is he?

"In here!"

Oh. The kitchen. Duh. You turn the corner and see Derek with his sleeves rolled up, arms plunged elbow-deep into soapy water.

"What are you doing?" You can't help but ask, even though the answer is obvious. He's doing the dishes. Without a fuss.

"Oh, uh... just... I used a lot of dishes making breakfast, and-" He stammers, nodding his head over to the stove.

"Breakfast?" You follow his gaze, eyeing the stack of pancakes.

Is this real? Did Derek fucking Danforth just wake up early and make you breakfast? And what the hell is he wearing?

"Yeah. I thought I'd thank you. You know, for the cake."

He dries his hands off on a dishcloth, and you silently take in his outfit. He's dressed up. Or, at least, what Derek probably considers dressed up. It's a little strange seeing him back in one of those silk button-ups he's so fond of after nearly a week of the regular ol' shorts and t-shirts his mom picked out for him.

Oh, shit. He's looking at you. Say something.

"What's the occasion?" You finally spit out, eyes darting between his clothes, the clean dishes, and the fresh breakfast.

Derek scoffs. "Occasion? Does there have to be an occasion for me to do something nice for you?"

"Guess not." You mumble, still a little dazed from everything that's happened in the past few minutes.

"A 'thank you' would be nice, ya know." He crosses his arms and gives you an exaggerated pout.

"Oh my god, Derek." Laughing, you forcefully un-cross his arms and pull him into an embrace, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He groans from the sheer force of your hug, and wraps his arms around you as well, returning the gesture in earnest.

Holding him so close like this, you can't help but notice his scent. He smells... different.

"Is that cologne?" You ask, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes as you giggle.

Derek's cheeks flush pink and he stammers out a response, tripping over his words.

"I-I always wear cologne."

"No, you don't. At least not lately."

"And how would you know? You make it a habit of smelling me?"

He's obviously trying to bait you, so you just roll your eyes.

"Derek. You've practically been living on my lap lately. I know what you usually smell like."

"Okay, well, I wanted to smell nice today. Sue me."

"You want to smell nice today... but there's no occasion?" You lean in a little closer, and give him your best teasing smile. He's just trying so hard today, it's adorable.

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but instead just gives you a weak smile. His eyes flicker from your eyes down to your lips, and his arms squeeze you a little tighter.

Shit. If you keep this up, he's probably going to kiss you. Or you'll kiss him. And you aren't quite sure how to feel about that.

Still, you don't want to break the hug just yet. One of your hands makes it's way up to his earlobe, and you start to fiddle with his earring. Your other arm remains firmly wrapped around his waist.

"This a real diamond?"

"Of course." He scoffs, and with how close you are, you can feel his little huff of breath on your face.

"You aren't scared to lose it?"

"I have a hundred more just like it, sweetheart."

Of course he does. Rich bastard. You try to pull away, but he clings onto you.

"Hey, I still didn't get a thank you." Derek pouts, giving you that pitiful expression he's so good at. Damnit.

Fine, he wants a thank-you? You know exactly how to thank him...

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"Here, let me get that for you." For the first time, Derek offers to carry the little bag of essentials as you make your way down to the beach together.

As he slugs the heavy thing over his shoulder, he feels a bit of regret for not offering sooner. He likes to think of himself as a gentleman, but obviously he isn't if he's been making you carry this damn thing all along.

"Thank you, love."

All those feelings of remorse fade when you take his hand and smile. His chest floods with warmth and he can't help but wish you'd thank him the same way you did earlier that morning.

He still can't believe you actually kissed him. On the cheek, sure, but a kiss is a kiss, and Derek isn't going to complain.

"It's pretty out today." He muses, looking up at the clear sky. You simply hum in agreement as the two of you trudge through the sand together.

This is a way more romantic setting than the kitchen. That's why Derek hasn't yet confessed to you. Not because you make him nervous or anything.

Okay, maybe it's partially due to nerves. He can't help it. You kissed him before he could get a word out.

You kissed him.

Thinking about it makes him grin like a fool, and he squeezes your hand a little tighter as he walks. He still can't believe he got so lucky.

And hey, maybe he'll get lucky again.

"Race you to the water!"

Or maybe not. Derek groans and drops the beach bag, then rushes after you. He kicks up sand, then water as he makes his way into the ocean.

"FUCK, it's cold." He cries out as the water reaches his chest. Honestly, he didn't even plan to wade in this deep, but he was determined to catch up to you.

"Oh, don't be a baby. It feels nice."

Derek's breath hitches as you snake an arm around his waist, pulling him tightly against your side. Tentatively, he puts his own arm around your back.

"You're gonna regret making fun of me when I fucking drown right in front of you." He grumbles, still a little uneasy being this far in the ocean.

"I won't let you drown. Even if it's a little tempting." You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"It's tempting to let me drown?" He scoffs, feigning annoyance. It's so hard to be mad at you when you're cuddled up to him like this.

"Maybe." Your other arm wraps around him now, trapping him in a tight hug.

Derek's heart pounds and he can feel his brain go fuzzy. This is it. He should tell you, right now, how much he wants you. How much he needs you.

Unfortunately, before he can stammer out a response, a wave draws near. An especially tall wave.

He tries to take a few steps back, but his legs tangle with yours and he stumbles. In his terrified state, he only grips you tighter, effectively pulling you back with him.

The two of you plunge into the water and Derek nearly drowns you in an attempt to right himself. After a few seconds of struggling, he feels you hook your hands under his armpits and pull him up.

He coughs and sputters, then braces himself as that wave he'd seen earlier finally washes over the both of you. For a minute, he's certain he's a goner. The water goes over his head before he can even hold his breath, mouth still full of saltwater.

You hold him tightly against your chest as the wave passes over you both, then start dragging him back towards the shore. When he finally opens his eyes and shakes the water from his ears, he notices the sky has gone dark. Shit.

"Are you okay, love?"

Derek just blinks at you as he wobbles to his feet in the knee-deep water, trembling fiercely. Your hands cup his face, turning it left and right as you inspect every inch of him.

He pulls away, if only to cough up a gallon of water.

"Might need... CPR... mouth-to-mouth...?" He chokes out, laughing in an attempt to get his racing heart under control.

"Oh my god, Derek. First you nearly scare me to death, then you ask for a kiss?" You give him a light shove, but your face gives away the relief you feel.

"In my defense, I did warn you I was going to drown." He scoffs.

Your response is cut off as it starts to drizzle. The sky, which was a perfect endless blue just minutes ago, is now completely covered in dark clouds.

"You wanna finish this inside?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After showering off the sand and saltwater, you throw on some pajamas and head over to Derek's room.

Yeah, it's the middle of the afternoon, but with the raging storm outside...? Well, it just feels like a pajama kind of day.

"Derek?" You call out, making sure to knock loudly on his door. Don't need any more accidents. "Can I come in?"

"No." He croaks, and you're certain you can hear him sniffle.

Shit. You'd better apologize soon.

"Please?"

No response. Damnit.

"I'm coming in anyways." You announce, slowly opening the door.

Derek lies sprawled across his bed, one arm draped over his face. The room is depressingly dark for the middle of the day, and the dreary whether definitely isn't helping.

Still, his outfit almost makes you chuckle. He's sporting a green robe that you hope he has some kind of clothes under, and his hair is still damp from his shower. God, this man certainly has a flair for the dramatic.

"Derek, love? What are you doing?"

He groans as you flick on his lamp, burying his face further into his arm.

"Sulking." He answers honestly.

You sigh and hop up to sit next to him on the bed, instinctively placing a hand in his hair. A familiar tightness pulls at your chest as you try to find the right words to say. Guilt.

"I'm so sorry for earlier. I shouldn't have made you go that far out, not when you can't even swim. I should have-"

Derek cuts you off, weakly pushing your hand away.

"Stop. Not mad at you."

His half-assed grunt of a response throws you off. What? Not mad at you? Then what the hell is he sulking for?

You sit in silence for a minute, chewing on his words. Fuck, how do you fix this? He almost fucking drowned because of you.

"Still want that mouth-to-mouth?" You tease, nudging him.

That gets him to look up at you. His eyes are puffy and red, a sign he's been crying.

"Is that a serious offer?"

"Was it a serious request?"

You both silently stare at each other, for a lot longer than you probably should. Does he actually want a kiss? Damnit, why are you even considering this?

"Just tell me what's bothering you."

Derek sighs and tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

"A lot of things."

"That's real specific. Thanks."

Without even looking, he gently smacks your leg with a hand. Brat.

"C'mon, Derek? Please?" You lean over him, lacing your fingers into his hair once more. He doesn't want you to leave, not really. You're sure of it.

"Well for starters, my head hurts." He grumbles, leaning into your touch.

"And my throat feels weird. I think I swallowed half the ocean."

You start to reply, but he opens his eyes and holds up a hand, shushing you.

"Seriously. When we finally have internet again, check the news. There'll be headlines about it. 'RISING SEA LEVELS MYSTERIOUSLY FIX THEMSELVES; NO LONGER AN ISSUE' or some shit."

You burst into a fit of laughter. God, he's so dramatic.

"Wow, I... Anything else?" You sputter out, choking back more laughter.

Derek just glares up at you, so you gently tug at his curls and plant a quick kiss on his forehead. It's not... weird, right? You've already kissed his cheek. This isn't much different.

He lets out a soft whimper and shifts slightly, scooting closer to you.

"You wanna lay on my lap?"

"Please."

It's not a strange request. Your lap seems to be one of Derek's favorite places lately, as you've both gotten more comfortable with each other. So, you decide to try something a bit different.

"Here, no, this way..." You scoop your arms underneath him and he melts at your touch, letting you move his limp body how you like.

After a little bit of struggle, you get him situated between your legs. His cheek rests against your bare thigh, his stubble tickling your skin. Guess your pajama shorts are riding up quite a bit. Oops.

"How's that, love?"

He just hums in response, eyes closed again as you play with his hair. One of his hands makes it's way up your leg, settling on your thigh, right next to his face. He doesn't grab or grope you, seeming content with the gentle touch.

His hand is soft. You've noticed that before, but now, in contrast with his scratchy stubble, it feels even softer. He has the hands of a man who's never had to work a day in his life.

And here he is, acting like a lapdog.

"I've been trying to tell you something all day." He mumbles groggily, probably already half-asleep.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

There's a long pause. You continue to stroke his hair, and he nuzzles against your thigh. Your eyes wander down his figure, smiling at the green robe. It looks good on him. It'd probably look better off him.

Maybe putting him between your legs was a bad idea, because suddenly your mind is plagued with images of him coming. Fuck, that was nearly a week ago now, and you can still envision it perfectly.

"Are you... gonna tell me?" You finally ask, trying to distract yourself.

"Not sure I should, honestly."

"If not telling me is making you cry like this... you should probably just spill."

"I'm not crying." He shifts, letting his head fall back between your legs as he pouts up at you.

Fuck. He's so goddamn close. You give him an incredulous look in return.

"Okay, I'm not crying anymore." He corrects himself, avoiding your gaze.

"Just tell me what's on your mind, love."

He grabs your hand and moves it to cup his cheek as he finally looks back up into your eyes. His expression is that of pure admiration. God, he looks so vulnerable.

When he finally speaks, it's barely above a whisper.

"I think I'm falling for you."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek's breath hitches. He can't believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Above him, you look equally shocked. He watches as you seem to go through the five stages of grief, expression changing rapidly.

He just lies there, frozen in anticipation. Your hand presses against his cheek a little more tightly and you let out a sigh.

"Derek, no."

No? What the hell does that mean? Is this a rejection? His heart plummets into his stomach and before he can ask, you speak again.

"No, you aren't." You speak firmly, eyes fixed on his.

"Fuck does that mean?" He stammers, starting to get agitated. How can you so confidently declare you know his own feelings better than he does?

"It means you don't like me like that. Not really. I'm just the only person around."

Before he can argue further, you move your hand over his mouth, cutting him off.

"And you're not yourself right now. Not with the withdrawals and whatnot. This isn't right. I'd be taking advantage of you."

Derek's chest tightens and he bites his tongue. Fuck. He didn't think of it like that. Still, he doesn't really care. He'd happily let you take advantage of him. But how to explain that to you?

"It's not- you're not... I..." He rips your hand away, tripping over his own words as he tries to voice his feelings. Why do you look blurry?

Shit. He's crying again.

The worst part is, you're making sense. He can't say with 100% confidence that his feelings for you haven't at all been influenced by the fact you're the only one here with him. Would he have fallen for anyone given these circumstances? Derek isn't sure.

You seem to notice his wavering resolve, because you sigh and gently move him from between your legs.

"Where are you going?" He chokes back a sob, sitting up as you slide off the bed.

"Gonna make dinner."

You turn and leave without another word. When the door clicks shut, Derek just flops back down on the bed, letting the despair take him.

Hey, maybe he'd cry out that gallon of saltwater he swallowed.

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Author's note: Sorry for the wait on this chapter... I went a little off-track and wrote some smut about being Mike Schmidt's dentist. Oops.

Anyways, I hope this chapter is as angsty as I intended. I'm trying here. I'm always open to constructive criticism, or feedback of any kind, really. Feel free to put an anonymous message in my inbox, or leave a comment. Is there anything I've written that made you cringe? Are there slow parts that you skim over? Are there any words that you've noticed I use too frequently?

Literally any feedback is welcome, just be respectful about it. Thanks!! <3

[holly-opal]

Is it OK if you can do Mr. puzzles x reader Again but Make it even more Romance CAUSE I REALLY LUV IT.😭

Mr. Puzzles pulled at his chains. He grunted and tugged more at it, trying to break it off the wall. Or if not that, then at least damage it enough so he can break it with a rock or something. Mr. Puzzles kicked at the wall, instantly regrets it, then wails in pain. Oh it was no use. Those meme guardians and their weirdo friends were never going to let him leave. He sat down and pulled his knees up to his face, feeling absolutely miserable. Then he heard a door opening and footsteps approaching. It was you! Holding a plate of cookies, a notebook, and dolls in your hands. He glared at you, and backed away a bit. You reassure him that you don't mean any harm and that you just want to help him. He calmed down a bit, but he still seemed upset. You sat down in front of him and set the things down, you had a cute smile on your face, Mr. Puzzles had to look away so that you wouldn't see him blushing at you.

You explained that you had a talk with the gang and they agreed that you can try rehabilitation with Mr. Puzzles. If he is good, you will give him a cookie. If he's bad, well then he'll just have to eat the rats then. Depresso won't like that. Mr. Puzzles laughed maniacally, very sarcastically. He grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap, you yelped in shock as you grasped onto him for support. He put a hand on your waist and lifted you chin up to make you look at him, he was grinning evilly. He had his brow raised as he smiled down on you. "And what motivates you to do this, mm? For what reason do you want to help me?" Mr. Puzzles said. You smiled with confidence, you say that you believe in people getting second chances, if they try hard enough, they can be better than what they were before. Smg3 changed, Waluigi changed, Bob (somewhat) changed. So maybe Mr. Puzzles can too. Mr. Puzzles frowned, and his hand moved away from your chin and down to your waist. He looked away from you. He looked... Almost uncertain?

"Darling, I appreciate the offer, but I can't do it. Even if I do change, nobody will accept me. I'll always be alone." You put your hands on his (cheeks?) And make him look you in the eyes. You say that you believe in him, that he can do it, that he will be accepted, even if not everyone will like him. Nobody is perfect, that's why we have to try to be good. He smiled and gave you a tight hug, you hug him back. He seemed convinced now. Wait, feel something wet on your back. You also hear sobbing. Is he crying? "Thank you... Thank you...." He said softly. You patted him on the back and grabbed a cookie from the plate you brought. You pulled away from him and held the cookie over him, he grinned. "I can eat by myself, sweetheart." You know he can. But you felt like taking care of him right now. He blushed a bit from that and he allowed you to feed him the cookie. Of course he wasn't going to reject the food, that dumbass Italian was starving him enough. You put the cookie in his mouth, he slowly ate the cookie until it was gone. He seemed flustered and shy, you laughed at how adorable he looked. You leaned in and kiss him on the forehead, his screen turned bright red aaaaand he malfunctioned. Bro died from a kiss fr fr.

[soapisahimbo]

NSFW ABC - Rodolfo Parra Edition

Finally! I'll be honest with you, this man has been quite the challenge to write about, mostly because it's been difficult to pin his personality and whatnot. But! I'm hoping I got it at least somewhat right and that you'll enjoy this one!

Contains heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

I'm going to try my best to make sure that it won't be as long until I get your requests out, because I don't like keeping you waiting!

warnings: senseless smut, detailed descriptions, hinted at female anatomy, Rodolfo is a fucking sweetheart

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

He's a real sweetheart, placing kisses over every part of you that he can reach, running his hands over the parts that he can't. He mumbles sweet nothings into your skin, some in English, some in Spanish, and this is one of the few times he'll be this verbal about his affection to you. Not that he never is usually, but he's a bit more relaxed and daring with his choice in words when you lay down with him like this. "So beautiful, so soft... warm... I can never get enough of you, querida, I want more..."

Once he breaks out of his reverie, he checks if you're ok. He's not very rough in bed, but he is strong and he can get pretty intense in the heat of the moment and can leave a few marks behind if he loses himself enough in the parts of you that he pays extra close attention to. He's never hurt you before, but he wants you to enjoy being with him. He wants to know if there's anything particular that you did or didn't like, so he knows to do more or less of it in the future. He asks you if you want to get in the shower. If you're a bit weak in the legs, he's quick to help you out. He might feel bad about it, but if you reassure him and tell him that you don't mind, he'll be vastly more confident; maybe even a bit cheeky.

He may be gentle and reserved, but he's certainly not lacking in passion. Can't keep his hands and mouth off of you, kisses deeply and touches eagerly. Insists that he should be the one to clean you off just so he can touch you more, but he's even more happy to oblige if you do the same just to get touched by you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Listen, he knows what his body looks like - he sees it in the mirror every day. But he is not vain, even in the slightest. He's aware that people might find his body attractive, but he's not the type to get cocky. He keeps himself in good shape because he feels it's necessary, but he's not as interested in flaunting his "assets" as some of his teammates might be. They have teased him about this more times than he can count, calling him things like the "shy maiden" of Los Vaqueros, but there's usually at least one or two people that remind them that he can easily take all of them out if he so wanted and that's all it takes to shut their mouths for a good while.

With that said, he has his own personal appreciation for his chest and arms. Not necessarily because of the way they look, but because he likes the way you can rest your head on his chest, and the way he can wrap his arms tightly around you (not to mention the way you place your hands on his pecs when you ride him, or the way he can hold you in place when he takes you).

He actually has a special weakness for the same parts on you, for the same reasons too. He just takes great enjoyment in laying his head down on your chest, thinks it's the best place to rest and even jokingly claims that he doesn't regain nearly as much energy if he rests somewhere else. Melts a little bit every time you hug him from behind and wishes that you'd never let go.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

He's not the type to say this out loud, but seeing the strings of his cum on your skin? His heart is pounding in his ears just thinking about it. On your stomach or the small of your back, over your thighs - it's not like he covers you all over, but the sight of it taps into something feral that he barely even knew he had in him. It makes him feel hot and it makes him want to do far more salacious things to you, but he's not quite sure what that would entail or how to make them reality. He holds back, but he has a dirtier mind than he might let on, or is even aware of. Perhaps with a bit of guidance...

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

Rodolfo has always been a highly respectful man. He maintains eye contact, keeps his hands to himself, stays at a respectable distance when he speaks to someone he's not intimate with, and he was determined to stick to this, no matter how weak in the knees he was for you. He was sure you weren't doing it on purpose, but those clothes you wore that night certainly... accentuated some parts of you that he hadn't paid much attention to earlier (or at least tried not to). You two were good friends, so giving him hugs, leaning onto him, just standing close to him in general was not strange to either of you, but even if he always had been a bit infatuated with you, he never made any moves that could be considered inappropriate. But with the way you looked and the alcohol in his blood, hugging you felt different when he was suddenly so aware of your body. And he could tell that the other men were too. He's not typically jealous, but he felt a certain heat in his chest when he saw them try to approach you, licking their lips and undressing you with their eyes. But the night was not in their favour - you preferred his company over theirs and when you had had one too many drinks, he offered you to crash at his place. He didn't have any single ulterior motive with this, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

Once at his place, he said that he'd ready the guest room for you, but you asked him very sweetly if you could maybe sleep with him in his bed tonight. Not knowing how to turn you down, he dumbfoundedly agreed and took you to his room. Once you were tucked in next to him, wearing a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt that he let you borrow, he tried to relax and fall asleep, but he was alarmingly aware of your body pressing up against him. He couldn't help himself. He blamed it on the alcohol clouding his judgment, but he couldn't go to sleep like this. Once he was sure you were asleep, he snuck out of bed and into the bathroom, stepping into the shower where he pulled his sweats down, wrapped his hand around his cock and jerked off to the thought of you.

He tried to keep his mind off of it the following day, but it was difficult. By the next time he invited you over, he'd had some time to think about your friendship and his feelings towards you, and while he's still not 100% sure about the order of events that had him end up on top of you, he really couldn't resist you anymore - especially not when you undressed that way for him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He's no virgin and he definitely knows his way around the bedroom, but he's not interested in one-night-stands or any friends-with-benefits-type deal. He's a very monogamous man, wants to be close only to someone who he's in a dedicated relationship with. He might not exactly have been with plenty of women, but he pays close attention to the one he's with and is almost freakishly good at finding those exact spots to make your mind melt.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Any position where he can feel your body right up against his. He's the type to hold you almost overwhelmingly close, but you like it - you can't tell where you end and he starts. The entire expanse of his chest against your own or against your back, his legs wrapped up in yours, fingers entwined, arms pinned. He likes it if you or he can sit straight up so he can get a good view of you, but he's always drawn to that "the closest we can physically get is still not close enough" kind of position.

If you feel a bit daring and can withstand those big, dark puppy eyes of his, you can definitely use this against him. Gently urge him to let you take care of him, tell him to keep his hands to himself - no need to restrain him - and watch him crumble underneath you. Once again, he never says this out loud, never dares to actually ask for it, but fuck, he loves it.

He doesn't stray far from this all that often, but he's also surprisingly into holding you up against the wall, which definitely caught you by surprise when you found out. Doesn't happen very often, but you're certainly not complaining when it does.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He doesn't exactly make a lot of jokes, but he says things that make you chuckle, and then that will make him chuckle, and then the two of you are just a pair of giggly messes making each other come apart in just pure joy and pleasure. He sometimes says incredibly sweet things that'll have you giggle like a school girl talking to her biggest crush and he just loves making you laugh out of love.

Of course, he can be quite playful and both of you have had each other in stitches, but it's usually because of something unpredictable and out of your control that you can't really do much else about other than laugh. Once it was a very loud pair of cats fighting out on the street just outside your home, another time it was Rudy bumping his head into the wall above you, and another time your neighbour sneezed really loudly and it startled both of you into an absolute fit. So while Rudy might not be the biggest jokester, he doesn't mind a good laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He doesn't actually have much of a happy trail - it sticks up maybe an inch above the hem of his boxers - but there's a rather thick and curly patch of hair down there. It's not very unruly though and it doesn't really spread out all that much. It's surprisingly soft and luscious, actually. He doesn't need to do much in terms of trimming, but he'll do a sweep with the trimmer for the sake of comfort every now and then, especially during the warmer months.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Oh, he's all over this. He's practically bursting with love and warmth when he holds you close in literally any way he can, regardless of if it's when you're naked in bed with him, or in your pajamas, fully swaddled with blankets and sitting in front of the TV, watching bad soap operas. Intimacy is a big deal for him and he takes it very seriously. Hell, nudity never needs to lead to sex, it's just another way for him to feel you.

He's oh so sweet and very gentle with his affection for you and just wants to spend as much time as he can with you, without being overbearing of course. Doing domestic tasks together, taking naps, hushed conversations in the middle of the night - he's all about that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

It shames him a bit when he does it; it feels like it's something he shouldn't be doing, so he tries to steer clear of it. But since the two of you got together, it's become way more challenging than it ever was before, and you've sort of relieved some of his previous qualms about it. He doesn't want to do it if you're nearby because it feels like he's going behind your back, but sometimes when far away from you, he might not be able to help himself.

However the thought of someone catching him in the act is absolutely mortifying, especially if it happened to be Alejandro, so even if he wants to, he might not actually go through with it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

He is not a very kinky man, but mostly because he hasn't really explored all that much. He might not be fully aware of what he likes or really wants to do until he finds the right outlet for it, but if you encourage him to try more things out, he'll probably find that he enjoys things like edging, soft bondage, blindfolds and temperature play. He might have a bit of an affinity for biting. When trying out new things, you might need to show him how you'd do it to him first before he feels comfortable trying it on you, but he's a quick learner and he easily picks up on your cues, finding just the right trick to please both of you.

As mentioned before, he has a dirtier mind than one might think, perhaps dirtier than he himself thinks. The more you encourage him and boost his confidence, the more daring he'll get and the more he'll initiate and come up with his own things he might want to try. You might be surprised when he suggests something along the lines of shibari - he won't do anything extreme and doesn't feel any desire to do any form of suspension, but there's something about the intricacy and intimacy of it that he enjoys.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

Bed and couch. He mostly wants to lay down with you during sex, but he does like having you up against the wall - when that happens though, it's usually in the hallway when neither of you have the patience to wait any longer. He feels that the shower is too risky - too slippery - so if the two of you get frisky in there, he usually prefers that you move it into the bedroom. Never wants to have sex outside the home though - the thought of getting caught makes him very uncomfortable.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

You. Just you in general. The way you look, the way you move, the way you smell, the way you feel, all of it. He's weak in the knees for you in both the most domestic, loving way and the most lusty, sexual way. He often mirrors you and he's very attuned to you - if you flirt, he flirts; if you're down, he's down. He matches your intention and your energy, so he moves the way you do, looks at you the way you look at him, feels you the way you feel him. It's like an intricate dance that only you two know the choreography of.

While not the jealous or possessive type, there is something in him that feeds off of the fact that others want you but you're his. All these men looking your way, vying for your attention, and he's the one that has it. He's always a bit more intense in these moments, and these are usually the times when you barely make it further than the hallway.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Don't ever - don't you ever! - suggest any form of impact play or choking or anything of the sort! Not for yourself, not for him, that's just nowhere near his list of things he'd want to do to or with you. Sex can be intense and heated and passionate, definitely, but violent? Never.

Gags also, he wants to hear you and he wants to be able to tell you how much he loves you. He's a softie at heart, all right? He just wants to love on you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He never asks for it. He reassures you that you don't have to if you don't want to when you ask if you can go down on him, but if you insist, if you tell him that you really want to, he'll take a deep breath before giving you a dazed nod and mumbling out a gentle, "yeah, ok".

He strokes your hair, your cheeks, has a hard time looking at you because it just looks so lewd and you're so sexy and it feels so fucking good. He might moan out some jumbled combination of your name, to slow down or to go faster, how good you are to him, how close he is and so on. He doesn't do anything to control your pace until he gets really close, which is when he grabs your head. He does try to be gentle about fucking your mouth, but he has a tendency to get lost in the sensation and might shove his dick further down your throat than he intended. It's worth it when he cums though, because he heaves forward, leaning over you and moaning into the crown of your hair, while his thighs shake and quiver until he finally comes down from the high of it. He apologizes if he's been too rough, but you tell him not to worry. But regardless of if he returns the favour right away or he goes down on you some other time, he keeps this in mind and uses any chance he can get to make it up to you.

Let him make it up to you, please. Even if he's pushing you a bit farther than you think you might be able to take. He takes going down on you very seriously. He won't allow himself to get distracted by anything (Alejandro called once while he was going down on you and you're pretty sure that's the only time Rudy has ever told you "he can wait") - he wants to give all his attention to you. He holds a strong and firm grip on your hips and thighs, making it near impossible for you to move, licking and sucking and kissing for what might feel like an eternity, coaxing out a number of orgasms in such a succession that it might just be one very extended one. He loses himself in it, too, and he doesn't seem to have any problem looking at you now. His eyes glazed over, heavy-lidded and deep and this time you might be the one who has to look away.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

He's a slow and heavy one, holding you tightly and grinding his hips into yours. He keeps this pace very steady and doesn't really change it unless you ask him to or he's getting close. He's had his moments where he goes quicker and rougher, mostly out of pure impatience and desperation for you, but he prefers to keep it slow and deep if he can.

If you want him to go faster, he'll do his best to hold out as long as he can, but if you're in charge and maybe ride him, he might ask you to slow down, just because you feel so good and he wants to make it last.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He's not a big fan, to be honest. He might try to go for it a few times, but he finds that it's not nearly as satisfactory as actually spending a much more extended amount of time with you, and once he's started, it's hard for him to stop. He once tried to go for a quickie in the bathroom once, bending you over the sink, but those five minutes that he asked for at the start just kept going and going and going and going... he apologized several times during the deed, but he just couldn't bring himself to stop, and you honestly didn't really mind it.

You did, however, take any chance you got to make fun of him for it. He's usually a very disciplined and strong-willed individual, but that just seems to melt away when he's with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

If there's ever anything he'd want to experiment with, he's doing it very cautiously. Remember the temperature play and shibari? He won't touch upon it unless he's read pretty much every article and every tip and every cautionary tale he can find on it. And once he's done that and gathered up the courage for it, he'll talk to you about it in great detail, with flushed cheeks and all, because he wants to know how you feel about it, and if you agree to try it, he'll go at it with baby steps - a little at a time. He takes it upon himself to prepare for everything that can go wrong and explains his steps to you as he's doing them. You might need to tell him to relax a bit, not to worry so much. It's good that he's prepared, but sometimes he needs a reminder to get out of his head and actually enjoy the moment.

With all that said, he won't ever try anything that he thinks might cause either one of you actual harm or put you at risk. He's not an adrenaline junkie, and he personally finds the sex to be mindblowing enough as it is, so he doesn't see any reason to do anything too wild.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

If he was a much more prideful person, he'd definitely be the type to brag about how long he can hold out. But he isn't, so he doesn't, even if you've told him several times that you're impressed with his stamina. He can go for 3 rounds, easily, mainly because he paces himself and has a strangely effective recovery. He has a hard time stopping, he always wants a little bit more, but even he reaches his limit at some point. It of course depends on how long you can go for - it's no longer any fun if you're not into it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He has never really thought about toys, at least not for himself. If he ever came across any of your toys, it would be purely accidental and it might actually take him a moment to realize what he's looking at before blushing profusely and then trying his absolute best to pretend he never saw anything. He won't tell you what he found unless you catch him in the act, or you notice that he's acting strange and convince him to tell you. If you manage to get it out of him, you'll need to reassure him that you're not angry with him, because he's convinced that you'll be outraged if you find this out.

If you tell him that you use them when he's away and you miss him, you'll practically hear his heart race. Couple that with a sultry, "I can't make myself feel as good as you do" and he might snap.

He never considers using them during sex, not out of shame or any sort of qualm towards it, but because he feels like that's your own thing and it's not for him to meddle with, so if you want to use them with him, you'll need to convince him. Be careful though, because once he reaches a certain amount of confidence, he'll really give you a run for your money.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

He's not at all a teaser, at least not on purpose. He can get a bit distracted, rubbing and kissing spots just because he enjoys it and you have to redirect him because he's actually driving you insane without realizing it.

He gets a bit uncomfortable if you tease him outside the comfort of your home, so keep it within the walls. If you tease him at times where he can't instantly get to you, better brace yourself, because once he is able to reach you, he won't let go for a good while.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Not very loud, but quite vocal. He sticks to moans and sighs and whispers, keeping his mouth close to your ears so that you can hear him, or to your skin so that he can kiss you. His words might get jumbled up, but he's not the type to ramble even when overwhelmed. He's terrible at staying quiet though, which is just one of the reasons he doesn't want to have sex if not in a room with a lockable door and thick enough walls.

He might actually surprise you with some of the things he says to you in the heat of the moment - it's like he loses his filter, even if it's just for a moment. He barely remembers it if you question him about it after the fact and honestly surprises himself with some of the dirtier things he's said to you. One of the tamer things he's said has been "I wanna fuck you until we pass out, baby," and you remember feeling surprised at hearing that come from him as it sent you over the edge.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

You sat in bed reading a book, leaning back against Rodolfo's chest, with his arms around you. You were reading it aloud as he basked in your warmth, placing gentle kisses against your hair every now and then as just a tiny little sign of love. But as time went on, the warmth began to shift to something else, something that had his heart beat just a little bit faster, and he couldn't even tell what it was that did it. But his hands began to trail down over your hips, and he could tell by the way your voice fell for just a moment that you could tell what he was doing. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his fingers tugging just a little bit at the hem of your underwear and you did your best to continue reading.

His fingers trailed just a little bit further down and you paused for a moment to gather yourself. "Rudy, what-?"

"I'm sorry, can I just..." He didn't finish his question before he slipped into your underwear and he began to work his hand between your legs. "Just... just keep reading, baby..."

His other hand snuck up under you shirt and to your chest where his fingers found one of your nipples. "Rudy, how am I supposed to-"

"Keep reading, please?"

You leaned your head back to try and get yourself together and you felt him moan silently against your neck. You took a deep breath, then focused back on the book and began to read again, albeit shakily. You don't know what got into him, but he was panting against your skin as if you were pleasuring him, and he kept asking you to keep reading even after you came. After the third time though, you threw the book away and begged him to just fuck you already. This seemed to snap him out of it and he finally took his clothes off, letting you get on top and sit down fully on his length.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

6-ish inches, give or take if he's hard or soft. It has a little bend to it and is a bit thicker than others, but not too much. The head of it is a little thicker than the rest, but it only seems to work in his favour.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

He's not an overtly sexual type of person, but you do things to him that he just can't resist, so it's safe to say that he wants you as much and as often as you want him. If he's in the mood, he'll approach you carefully and patiently, never expecting you to do anything you don't want to, but you find that his touches and kisses always work to warm you up (just as yours do for him). How high his sex drive is can vary from day to day, week to week, but he's still very affectionate and intimate on the days when it's low.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

It might actually take a while for him to fall asleep afterwards. He likes to talk to you, sometimes about how much he enjoyed it, sometimes about how much he loves you, sometimes about plans or things he'd want to do, and he might talk for a good hour or so. If you're sleepy though, he'll let you sleep. He'll watch you for little while, taking in the sight of you before getting comfortable and falling asleep with you in his arms.

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 5: Sex Toys

♤♡-Pairs: Diluc x fem!reader

☆☆-Warnings: sex toys(duh), male anatomy, female anatomy, swears, mentions of cum

It's safe to say, the sex life between you and the owner of Angel's Share was nothing to scoff at. You both knew eachothers bodies inside and out. Though you didn't have it often, do to time conflicts, everytime you did it was even better than the next. But that isn't to say you didn't wish to try something more...adventurous, or rather, in your boyfriends eyes. You had mentioned sex toys before but he always hesitated. And more often then not, it led to him asking if you felt satisfied. The poor man didn't understand.

But last week, you had brought it up again. Making sure to explain it was something for the both of you. That you were satisfied but you just wanted to add a little something. And to your surprise, he actually agreed this time! Even if he was still a little hesitant.

And today would be the day you both had some time to try them out.

You sat patiently on your bed while you waited for his shift to end. A small pink bag sat next to you as you waited. Soon you heard the sound of keys in the door, then heavy boots walking up the stairs. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as anticipation ran high in your veins. When he opened the door, you gave him a smile.

"Hello, love. Welcome home." His eyes scanned your face before landing on the pink bag. He gave a nervous nod as he started to shrug off his work attire. Usually he was a tad more talkative but it seems nerves had gotten to him today. When he undressed, you patted the spot next to you. And as he sat, you held his hand.

"We don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable." You brought his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss there. "I want to, to at least try. For you." He said softly, taking a breath before he motioned towards the bag. You gave him another smile before you opened the bag; revealing a somewhat small vibrator. It was a good toy to start with. You had gotten others...but you didn't want to overwhelm him. Thankfully you didn't have to explain what it did before you placed it gingerly in his open palms.

Then you scooted back on your elbows, lifting the hem of the dress you were wearing. And you swore you heard him inhale deeply at the sight. You weren't wearing any underwear after all. "I'm ready, go ahead." You gave him one more smile of approval before laying all the way back.

Silence was soon filled with the shuffling of sheets before a dull vibrating noise could be heard. Your sex twitched in anticipation as you waited for him to finally touch you. In approximately a few seconds you felt a vibrating sensation against your clit. Your whole body jerked at the feeling, a small moan escaped your lips. "Keep going..it's okay," you reminded him. Earning another press of the vibrator against you, already making you wet. After a couple more attempts he got more confident, pressing it a little more against you until you were grinding against it. Still he hadn't said anything, he simply watched. His pupils blown wide from the scene. He was making you shake and convulse with this small toy...it was invigorating.

"Honey...feels so good..." you preen, a thin layer of sweat now coating your body as you chased after your release. "Turn it up a little mo-oh fuck, yeah like that." Your hands grasped at the sheets as you kept grinding your pussy against it. It wouldn't be long now before you-

"Oh fuck, even higher?" Your breath was knocked out of you as he turned it up once more. A few more sloppy thrusts against the toy had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Thighs shaking as you made a mess of the toy. You were left panting and twitching...but he still hadn't moved the toy. "H-honey that's...I already...too much..."

He simply shook his head, "I want to see more of what this toy can do to you."

Masterlist

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[skywheeldate]

Analyzing the Skywheel Dates

Unable to wait patiently for the Ultimania releasing next month, I wanted to provide my own analysis of the Skywheel dates between Cloud/Tifa and Cloud/Aerith.

By analyzing Cloud's behavior on these two dates, which are explicitly more romantic than the other four, I aim to understand why the dates played out the way they did and what was going through the character's heads during them.

Tifa Date:

What sticks out in most player's minds during the date is the kiss Cloud gives Tifa while riding the Skywheel, and it's easy to see why! It's the first time Cloud has kissed a woman on screen, after all. But I have seen fans state that this proves Cloud likes Tifa more, and while I hate to get myself involved in any shipping war, I feel there is a more interesting conclusion we can draw based on the timeline of events throughout both remake games.

First, I want to direct you to this caption from the Remake Ultimania:

When Cloud gives Tifa the flower, he wants to "Show off a youthful image of what he himself wants to be like"...

I think this caption is very important to helping us understand why Cloud was able to be so bold as to kiss the girl he was always too shy to befriend as a child. And I think it's linked to his new "ex-soldier persona."

See, the ex-soldier persona Cloud crafted is modeled after a person he admired and wanted to be like: Zack. Although making this new personality for himself was an unhealthy response to his trauma, I think there are good things to it, as well. For one, it allowed him to take action again and thereby begin his first steps towards recovery. In addition, it gives him courage to do things he never could before, such as strutting his stuff on the dance floor:

I don't think it's too far of a stretch to say that this extends to him giving the flower to Tifa.

So this, in my mind, explains how Cloud had the courage to kiss Tifa and why some fans might think it felt a little sudden or out of character--it's because it almost is, in a way. But let me reiterate, I don't think that's a bad thing. I think Zack's influence on Cloud is somewhat natural and, frankly, having the courage to do the things you want and have fun is never a bad thing. I truly believe Cloud is exemplifying being Zack's "living legacy" by becoming more confident and outgoing. It's a good thing!!

And let's not ignore Tifa in this scene. Before the kiss, Tifa brings up that she feels she and Cloud have become closer, but frets that she's rushing to conclusions again. She's giving Cloud a clear opening to prove his feelings for her--and frankly, after all this build up? Giving the flower, all the tiny touches they've shared? Cloud is more than ready to prove it to her, and he does. It's so easy, and he does it the best way he knows how: with a kiss. In that moment, the boy became the man he's always aspired to be.

Aerith Date:

Conversely, the Aerith date isn't quite as simple--at least to me. It's hard to understand what's going on in their heads, and I think they comparatively have more obstacles in the way of their romance.

The biggest obstacle is that Aerith has seen through Cloud's persona, and almost calls him out on it during the date. She tells him she's looking for the real him, and that she wants to meet him someday.

I believe this stops Cloud, subconsciously. While the persona he built around Zack gives him more confidence, it's still a persona. It's not who he really is. By giving into that persona at all, he is not giving Aerith what she wants. Being confident and bold with Tifa was important, because she needed proof he liked her, but here? What's important is being the "real" Cloud, whoever that is. It must have stumped him.

Aerith gives him an easy out though: she asks Cloud to let her snuggle up against him until the ride ends. And that much, at least, Cloud can manage. And he goes even further than that when he interlaces their fingers together. I think this is his way of showing that he'll be there for Aerith--not just till the ride ends, but after. He's showing her that he does, in fact, care about her, and that her selfish request isn't as selfish as she thinks it is.

I also want to bring up the lyrics from No Promises to Keep here since I think they're extremely relevant to the Clerith relationship and the hand-holding symbolism seen throughout the game:

Till the day that we meet again At our place, just let me believe In the chance that you'll come Take my hand and never let me go Take my hand And believe We can be Together evermore

The hand holding symbolizes their shared desire to be "together evermore" and the belief that they will be. The interlocked fingers display a powerful, mutual bond that cannot be so easily severed. I think this imagery is both simple and extremely beautiful.

In summary, although they are not at a point in their relationship where they're ready to kiss yet, I believe this scene is meant to show that there is still possibility for their relationship to grow and get to that point.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊°。 .❀

Thank you for reading till the end! I hope you enjoyed my thoughts. Feel free to use or reference this post if you found it resonated with your own interpretations of these scenes. And if you have your own interpretations to share, I would love to hear them!

[grimme-and-specs]

Would u…… be so kind as to share all of your grimdorks headcanons……… *runs away at lightning speed*

Oh dude, I was WAITING for an ask like this! Hell yeah!

- John was initially very nervous or hesitant when doing anything with Rose and usually she had to make the first step in doing anything, due to a fear that he wouldn't be enough. Later into the relationship, though, he is quite confident, which always takes Rose off-guard (in a good way).

- Rose has John preview all her writing before she makes a new rough draft. He is very helpful in giving feedback and often goes on tangents about how much he likes it.

- They watch a movie at least weekly, and rate it on how much they enjoyed it respectively. This is so John doesn't go bonkers over his massive DVD collection gathering dust, and is a way for them to spend some time together.

- Partly due to how Rose was raised, she doesn't know how to execute most household chores (like cleaning a bathroom for example), even with the base knowledge of how they work. John helps her out and shows how to do them in the most efficient way.

- Speaking of chores, John is typically found singing to himself when he's doing them by himself. Rose likes to listen to him, up until he notices that she's there. Funnily enough, most of what he sings along to is rock and metal tracks and Rose is still attempting to squeeze out what his favorite band is out of the multitude he listens to.

(here's a sample of what I think he likes).

- John is surprisingly good at making food. (Probably inherited that from his dad and nanna). He likes to spoil Rose with his latest cooking endeavors, but not all of them turn out very good, so they end up with some laughs occasionally.

- Rose likes to infodump about everything to John, because she feels like he's the only fella that somewhat gets what she goes through as the Seer of Light. He really tries to keep up with her, which she appreciates.

- John is incredibly affectionate after gaining his confidence, especially physically. Rose is touch starved and never was used to having much physical affection in her life before. This often ends up in her malfunctioning as a result of too many kisses.

- Rose has no idea how to flirt and uses strange metaphors and similes when she is attempting to do so. It works on John, partly thanks to him being confused, and the fact that he thinks it's attractive that she has the confidence to say everything with her full chest.

- John still has trouble confiding in Rose about his own issues, but she can get him to open up eventually via "Therapeutic Strategy," as she calls it. (It's really just her psychoanalysis but more subtle and open ended, giving the chance for him to respond and open up on his own terms).

- They often duet with their respective instruments and shower each other in compliments, and sometimes they play for an audience! That audience is usually just their friend group, but everyone gets a good time out of it.

- Rose suggested pet names once, and John went ham on the idea. He constantly calls her stuff like "sweetheart", "firefly", "sunray", etc. She is never prepared and consistently gets blushy over these, but tries to come up with her own pet names for him. The only thing that's stuck so far has been "my husb-wind" and "specs".

- John is demisexual, and after he gained his confidence in the relationship and got even closer to her, he started developing more sexual feelings about Rose, which was a very pleasant surprise to her.

- They like to tease and flatter each other in public, but not to the degree where it's incredibly obvious.

- They're still raising Casey, her full name is Casey Viceroy Bubbles Von Salamancer after they hashed it out. I believe Casey at this point, would be about 10 years old. I personally think that Consorts would live up to human ages due to the nature of Sburb!

- Also, they still have Vodka Mutini. John still occasionally calls the cat Doctor Meowgon, much to Rose's amusement. Apparently, mutant ecto cats live way longer than your average cat.

- They would probably have kids of their own. I already have one fankid designed based off of a non-sburb fanfiction I was writing, but I stopped lol.

Euuuhhh yeah! That's about all I have for the one instance post-sburb that could probably apply to a lot of Grimdorks. Hope you like it!

[radioroxx]

hi pluto i’m here to ask if u have any isat headcanons. about anybody! hope u have a good sunday :))

HAPPY SUNDAY VIA can i call you via. hello

ive mentioned my tattoo hcs before but im gonna expand on them as best i can rn because i think about it occasionally (i am making a lot of this up. right now! for you!)

ok so odile has a lower back tattoo she got in her 20s and i feel very strongly about this one 1. because i think its funny 2. because it makes her 10x cooler. the other day in my moots disc we talked about the idea of odile having a past polycule that she broke off from and so ive adopted that idea and decided the tattoo is a matching one. she does not regret it at all and is still (somewhat) in touch with her ex’s. siffrin was the first person she told about this, drunkenly btw, and for months afterwards he couldnt remember if it was Actually Real or just something his brain made up (and they were too scared to ask lol)

siffrin has star tattoos on his back and shoulders! i was considering giving him sleeves but i changed my mind,, he got them while he was still travelling on his own. possibly theres a region that is more well known for tattooing (havent decided what this would be though)! he was interested from a ‘learning about new culture’ perspective, also just because Why Not. he chose to get stars because it felt right. he somewhat regrets it. (maybe, post canon and later on their journey, he would try out something else. different designs. things inspired by his family! or things he wants to remember)

isabeau has no tattoos. not from not wanting them, but from just never really having the interest. UNTIL travelling with the party. until staying up late with sif in their shared tent and finding out that, on his travels, he learned how to (very basically) give people tattoos. and begs him for one. its like 2am and neither of them are thinking clearly so they agree. they ‘borrow’ odiles ink pot she uses for writing, a sewing needle that isa happens to have on hand, aaaand it. goes very poorly. as youd imagine. he is lucky to have the long sleeves to cover it up. whatever design theyd been going for was absolutely not achieved. but! he cherishes the memories regardless. (incredibly, they would try this twice. the second time would be after bonnie joined the crew, who would catch them awake, beg siffrin for a tattoo of their own, be told ‘no’, but would still be allowed to watch as long as they PROMISE not to tattle to madame and mira in the morning. bonnie absolutely tattles).

mira! does not seem like a tattoo person to me. i think she would be intimidated by the idea- partially in relation to the change belief, partially because she wouldnt know what to get. i like to think tattoos are probably pretty controversial to the religion… some people think they are a very powerful form of change! something you cant take back. others disagree for the same reason, that its permanent. so pre canon no tattoos for her. but!! but! as i mentioned before with siffrin getting tattoos for his family, i think mira might consider something as well (confidence boosted by the fact that the others will be matching). other than that though, it just doesnt appeal to her much.

bonnie has no tattoos also aaand it will stay that way for. a little bit. this is something that upsets them greatly because i also like to believe that nille has PLENTY of tattoos! possibly some she even got when she was much much younger! irresponsibly, of course, and many of them are regrettable. so she steers bonnie away from making that same mistake too young (tries to encourage them to wait until they are 18 at least). maybe bambouche as a whole is a very tattoo-supportive town, which is where bonnie got their interest. this does not stop them from making little paintings up their arms and having the others help out as well, to make up for it, in a non-permanent way.

i havent actually designed what any of their tattoos would look like… thats gotta be something i sit down to think about,,, one day maybe ehe

[osamusriceballs]

The Accident - Part XV

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: Alcohol

Words: ~ 1,8 k

About: Y/n and that mysterious woman finally meet!

Part I II -> Next Part

"You?"

She looks at you, clearly stunned to see you- and you feel the same way about her for sure. You actually mentally already saw yourself in your bed after this exhausting trip- and yet here you are. Facing her in the middle of the night once again. Her gaze flickers from you to Atsumu, quickly taking in his state.

You can imagine how you look like.

Your hair looks a bit messy, and you probably look like you fell straight out of your bed. And Atsumu next to you is a mess. Without a doubt. His shirt is half-opened, his broad chest almost fully on display, and you have been doing your best not to stare at his body while you're supporting his weight. His head is hanging low with his cheeks tinted pink and his eyes glassy, and the noises that occasionally escape his lips are a mixture of nonsense blabbering and snores. You definitely look like a strange combination - one might even get the idea that you got him drunk.

The woman is frozen for a few moments, simply taking in the sight of you and him, too stunned to say something. You can't blame her for that reaction, you would have been stunned too to see such a strange couple. You start to sweat slowly, Atsumu's weight considerably resting on you, now that you both have stopped moving. You have no idea what you should do, though. Just who the heck is she? And what is she doing at his apartment again?

After a few moments pass, she finally seems to make up her mind. She moves, coming closer without any warning until she's right in front of you - only to pass by briskly without giving you any attention. Now you're stunned, not missing the look of disgust and hatred on her face or the way her eyelid seems to twitch in rage when she walks past you, and you stand there with Atsumu next to you, who hasn't even looked up ever since you both came to stop.

You turn your head, watching her back as she strides towards the elevator and then presses a button, impatiently waiting for the doors to open.

You know that you only have this chance to talk to her, only these few moments- and you suddenly feel brave enough to do something.

"You know that I'm married to him, don't you?" You finally say. Judging by her reaction, this bold statement definitely took her by surprise. She turns her head and looks at you with a blank expression, but you can see how her nails dig into her palm. She doesn't reply; she simply stands there without breaking your gaze. You slightly lift your chin and hope that you exude confidence while you stand there with a snoring Atsumu leaning against you.

"If I ever catch you here again, I'll call the police. They will surely be happy to escort you out of my husband's apartment." She narrows her eyes at your words and turns her head when the elevator doors open, getting inside without even bothering to say something or acknowledging you.

You exhale deeply, feeling like you've just run a marathon. You still don't fully understand what's going on, but you at least feel somewhat better, now that you could get your anger off your chest. You don't know her, but you somehow find yourself disliking her. But you should maybe direct those feelings towards Atsumu, depending on what he'll tell you as soon as he sobers up. Even though you're not sure if you can trust him yet. You mentally curse when you realize that you still know nothing about this woman, other than that she apparently likes to hang out in front of his apartment. Why couldn't Osamu just tell you everything? You could maybe try to call him, but he seemed exhausted back there at Onigiri Miya's. He's probably asleep already and you feel somewhat sorry for him.

A groan next to you makes you look at Atsumu, who uncomfortably hangs around your body, and you're quick to push him towards his apartment. "We're almost there, please, just a bit more, Atsumu." You beg, and you don't know if he's able to hear you, or even understand you, but he is somehow actually trying to help you, and you finally make it into his apartment. It's probably the adrenaline in your body that makes you heave him onto his bed, and you simply fall on your knees when you finally manage to get his weight off you.

A groan escapes your lips, and you sit there with closed eyes for a few seconds.

That woman.

She's trouble. That much you're certain of when you think about her reactions. You're convinced that she has no positive connection to him. She might be his ex. A pang of jealousy rushes through you when you think about the beautiful brunette right next to Atsumu. The media would love them together.

And yet, here you are. Still married to him for another eleven months. Even carrying his last name, even though you don't even know what he's done with her after he kissed you in that one night. He maybe even slept with her back then. So much about Yachi's hypothesis of the volleyball team being too busy to date.

But that is something that Atsumu needs to tell you. You know that you will only be able to forget about him if he personally tells you that he's not interested. Then you might finally manage to erase him out of your life and move on. Maybe even start dating someone. Yachi had often asked if you feel up for blind dates. She told you that she knows a police officer, who's cute and single and who would absolutely be your type. You had laughed back then, but maybe it would help you get your thoughts away from the blonde volleyball player in front of you.

You get on your feet, looking at Atsumu and contemplate what you should do with him. You slowly look up and down his body, his face looking so soft while he's snoring, his hair hanging around his face, messy for sure, but it probably feels soft to the touch. His chest is still bare, his shirt almost fully opened, but you don't think it'll be too uncomfortable for him to sleep in it. Your gaze lingers on his belt. That will definitely be uncomfortable though.

You internally fight with yourself, a part of you feeling like a pervert when you reach out to the belt and try to quickly undo the clasp. It takes you a few attempts to open it, but you quickly pull it off him as smoothly as you can. You're just glad that he did not wake up during that procedure. You also open the button of his jeans but don't touch the zipper at all. His shoes are quick to land on the ground too, and then you take the blanket and throw it over him, securing it over his body and then making an attempt to go back. You freeze though when he starts moving, a groan escaping his lips along with something that sounds like your name. His eyes open, and you both stare at each other, though you're not entirely sure that he can see you - yet you're still flustered at his gaze.

You're both in his bed after all.

"Y/N - stay here." He mumbles, clumsily reaching out for you. You freeze when he manages to catch your sleeve and you place your hand over his quickly to pull it away.

"I - I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay here." You answer, your voice coming out softer than you intended it to. He hurt you, yet you still missed him. Missed how he makes you feel, missed his goofy side and the way he makes your heart skip a beat when he gives you that sweet smile. You missed everything about him.

"Y/n - missed ya... s'much." He whines into the pillow, his hand curling into yours, and you feel the wall inside of you crumbling. It's... kind of late after all. It's probably for the best if you don't walk home on your own. But sleeping in the same bed? After everything that has happened? But then: what if he needs you during the night? What if he throws up or something and you're too far away to help him?

You sit there for a few moments and then finally nod while you watch him. "Fine. I'll stay with you. Is it okay if I borrow one of your shirts?"

You don't really expect an answer of him, but he nods and mumbles something and raises his arm to show you a direction, and you simply open the wardrobe that he's pointing to without trying to look too much at the clothes and grab the first thing that comes into your hand. It's a simple black shirt that will probably fit comfortably on you. You look at Atsumu, who is now mumbling nonsense, and turn your back to him while you change into the shirt. You decide to leave on your sweatpants; it would feel weird to sleep next to him half-naked. You hesitate before you go into the bed, thinking about getting some water for him, but then you're quick to spot a bottle on the nightstand and then shrug your shoulders. That will be enough.

You're tired.

The adrenaline is slowly wearing off, and you're in no state to go home right now, that's for sure. You yawn and simply let yourself fall into his luxurious bed, and take a mental note to have a closer look at his bedroom in the morning when you wake up. You yawn quite loudly once again before you reach for the light switch and turn the lights off. It's comfortably dark now, and you reach for the other blanket and wrap it around you. You try to quietly shift into a more comfortable position, in order to not disturb Atsumu, but then you feel him shifting again and moving closer until your bodies are touching under your blanket. He smells like a mixture of beer and a smell that you only associate with him. Something manly and comforting; it's hard to tell.

After a few more moments, you hear him breathe deeply and evenly, a pleasant noise while he wraps his arms around you, pressing his hot body against yours. His chest is heaving against your back with every breath he takes, and you feel a tingle run down your spine when he nestles his face in your neck. You don't have it in you to fight this, and you definitely like how safe you feel in his arms. So you simply adjust your legs until you lay there comfortably and listen to the sound of him breathing.

And while Atsumu holds you maybe a bit too tightly in his arms, you feel warm for the first time in a few weeks and finally succumb to sleep.

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

Hey!!! first off I just wanted to say that ur fics make me go feral, like dude you have no idea they're just so soft and fluffy and awesomr and cool and yeah

I was also wondering if i could request something, prompt 10 "You broke somebody's nose for me?" "Of course, it was to defend your honor!" off the valentine's list, melissa asking reader and they're just al fluffy and cute nd yh

i have no idea if you're still doing these or taking requests, i couldn't find anything ab them being closed but if you're not that's totally cool

have an awesome day/night and thanks

There's that magic word again; feral. Honestly, I can't get enough of that reaction to my fic. *happy dance ensues*

This has taken a little longer to get out than I'd like, but I hope you like it. And please consider my requests/asks open unless I post otherwise...but please also be patient! It's not that I've forgotten about them, more life likes to get in the way.

Anyway, enough about me. More about you and your ask! I hope it ticks the cute and fluffy box and is at least in the direction of what you imagined.

~*~

You’re standing at the bar trying to catch the barman’s attention when you feel someone sidle up next to you.  

“So what does the M stand for?” 

It’s takes you a minute to realise they’re even talking to you until they reach out to touch the necklace you’ve been playing with. You startle at the unexpected touch and flinch back, only settling when familiar hands settle on your hips. 

“Mine,” smirks Melissa. 

You take a step further back from the random guy who’s now glaring at the red head. Ignoring him, you settle further back into her embrace as she wraps her arms around your waist, leaning her head on your shoulder.  

Catching the barman’s attention she orders both your drinks over your shoulder before pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

* 

Later that night, you’re sat at your table, waiting for Melissa to return from the bathroom, once again fiddling with your necklace. It’s a habit you’ve had for years, decades even. 

You smile as you recall how you came to have the little ‘M’ you now proudly wear. You had lost the one you used to always wear and had had since being a teenager. It was a simple pendant and not one of any monetary value, but it was familiar and comfortable. For days, you kept going to reach for it only for your fingers to brush empty skin and fall away in frustration. 

It had been movie night at Melissa’s and you had been cuddled up on the couch. They had become somewhat of a tradition for you both, taking turns about to pick the movie and the provide the snacks. Admittedly, the number of movies you actually watched together to the end were few and far between but you both enjoyed those nights all the same. Perhaps even enjoyed more. 

You hear the tinkling of her own necklaces as she toys with them but assume she’d just untangling them as she often does. It’s not until later in the movie that you feel her move your hair, securing a chain around your neck.  

Fingers finding the small charm settled against your chest you had lifted into your line of vision, smiling at the small ‘M’ dangling there. The subtle claim was not lost on you, nor was her nervous smile as you turned to press a kiss to her lips in thanks. 

You’re torn from your reverie by the same guy who approached you at the bar. He sidles up to your table, full of confidence and one too many drinks. 

“You want a real good night? How about you ditch grandma and come home with me?” 

“Excuse me?” you hiss, not quite believing he’s had the gall to say what he just did. “What did you call her?” 

“Oh, come on,” he says, flashing you a grin. “She’s not the worst looking, but she has years on you. There’s no way she can give you what you need.” 

That touches a sore spot. You know the age gap between you and Melissa plays on her minds at times. You hate that it does. Hate that she doubts herself for any reason. Hates that she sometimes doubts what you have together. “You need to stop,” you say, pushing yourself for her feet with the intention of collecting your bags and going to find Melissa and then a new place to drink. 

“Oh baby,” he grins. “I don’t stop, I don’t stop all. Night. Long,” he continues, stepping close and pressing himself against you. You’re not quite sure when you decide that the best response to that is bringing your fist to his face, or if there’s any real conscious decision to it at all. What you are quite sure of, however, is that the result it rather messy and has you escorted out by the bouncer.  

* 

Coming back from the bathroom Melissa finds herself thoroughly confused to find your table empty apart from the waitress cleaning up what looks like the rest of your drinks and...was that blood? She spots your coats and bags hanging still hanging off the back of your chairs, her frown only deepening. “What the hell happened?”  

“That idiot was talking trash about her girl, so she punched him,” came the no nonsense reply as the blonde nods in the direction of the guy from earlier. “Decent right hook too. Bouncer took her outside. Threw the wrong person out in my book.” 

The red head can’t help but smile as she grabs your things and heads outside where she finds you pleading with the bouncer to let you back in.  

“You broke somebody’s nose for me?” 

You turn away from the bouncer at Melissa’s voice and find her clutching your things, an odd expression on her face. “Of course,” you reply like it was obvious. It’s not like you consider violence the answer in many situations, but you’d do anything for the red head. “It was to defend your honour. And he was really pissing me off.” 

She smiles goofily at you. “You really punched someone for me?” 

“Yeah. My hand fucking hurts too,” you grumble, holding your injured hand gingerly. You’ve never punched someone in the face before. Never punched anyone anywhere before. You didn’t expect it to hurt so much.  

She pulls you in for a kiss, effectively halting any further complaints you have. “How about I go back in and get some ice for that then we can go home and I can thank you for defending my honour?” 

“You’re always full of good ideas,” you smile, enjoying the spark in her eyes as she drapes your jacket around your shoulders, careful of your injured hand.  

She chuckles, still wearing that same goofy smile. “Barb is never gonna believe it when I tell her it was you and not me that punched someone.” 

“You could just not tell her?” you suggest, already knowing you’re going to be in for a stern word or two if she does.  

“Oh sweetie,” says Melissa. “I hate to tell you but that hand is gonna bruise. She’s gonna know.” She gently lifts your injured hand and kisses you sore knuckles. 

“Yeah well,” you mumble. “At least she’ll know I stuck up for you.” 

“My hero,” she grins, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you.” 

“Even if my cage fighting career is over before it’s even begun?” 

“Especially because of that,” she smirks. “I don’t want that hand out of commission for any longer than it has to be.” 

[ladyluscinia]

hi i had something i was confused about and i was wondering if you could help! so when izzy shoots himself in the head, does he do it with the intention of killing himself except he misses? or does he purposely trick ed? genuinely i couldn’t figure out what they were trying to imply there, and you are a literal god at meta analysis, so i thought i’d ask :)

Anon that is a great question and I have thoughts.

Short answer: I have watched that scene several times now and I'm still not 100% on what's going down there!

Now for the long answer... 🤔

I am confident that Izzy puts the gun to his head with intention. He's not trying to trick Edward - not in the least because I don't think he's mentally there enough to think ahead. Izzy just got abruptly woken up post-amputation for one of the most emotionally fraught conversations of his life. The guy is probably delirious from bloodloss, pain, and hopefully something he was given for the pain (though since Frenchie's first aid kit didn't make it down... maybe not 😬).

I think he's there enough to put together that his last ditch attempt to pull Edward out of all this failed. To feel the frankly overwhelming emotional snarl of anger / distress / love that gets him to point the gun at Edward and then send him away. He's laying in that bed realizing horribly that fucked doesn't begin to cover it and Edward is going to spiral further and further until he dies, but I doubt he feels like he can DO anything about it - even if he wasn't freshly down a leg.

That's why he lifts the gun. That's why Edward isn't surprised to hear it fire.

But why doesn't it hit?

So I have two equally plausible theories. I'm figuring they are going to have to circle back to two of their main three characters attempting suicide on screen, so Izzy will probably say something in the future that narrows it down. (For now, I personally prefer the second one.)

So, Theory #1 is that Izzy survived purely on accident. Or by fate. You can see his hand drop and the gun slip upward just before he pulls the trigger. As previously established, my guy is going through it mentally and physically. It is fully within the realm of possibility that he didn't have the strength to keep his hand steady and it saved his life while knocking him out instead. Then later he wakes up and (probably still somewhat delirious) decides that apparently life isn't done with him yet and he needs to go put a stop to whatever murder-suicide Edward is trying to enact.

Theory #2 is that - at the last second - Izzy changed his mind.

Thematically this is interesting. There's a post going around about how even in the darkest depths Edward still has a spark of himself that wants to live, and parallels this with Stede getting confronted "Do you want to live?!?" in S1. I can't endorse this post because the author is an Izzy hater who sidebars in the middle to go "btw this is all Izzy's fault, the evil bastard" but it's an interesting parallel. Especially if you take a sympathetic read of Izzy also going to pull the trigger into account.

Maybe Edward and Izzy (and Stede) want to live just a little more than they want to die, even when the situation seems unbearable. Maybe Edward's drive manifests in giving the crew chance after chance to stop him when they could never stop a bullet in the middle of the night, and in trying to untie the ropes even before he hears Stede waiting for him, and Izzy's...?

Well, maybe Izzy's drive manifests in jerking the gun down just before it fires.