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#and i look for any excuse to let them loose
gretavanlace · 1 day
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Feels Like Gold
Jake Kiszka x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk, breeding kink, Jake drives a car (the most dangerous situation of all), extremely mild degradation, etc
Okay, in honor of our collective jakedown, I rooted around in my unreleased work and then did a little revamping. This one is for you, @piratejakesgf thank you for your request ❤️ *loosely edited, fair warning
And kisses to @jake-kiszkas-smirk and her brilliant mind for titling this when I was at a loss 💋 xoxo
“Fuck, these are so uncomfortable!” you hiss with exasperation, tugging at the itchy nylon hell encasing your legs.
“Told you not to wear them.” Jake reminds you, flipping on his turn signal before switching lanes, though the freeway is dark and nearly deserted.
“You know how my family is.” you remind him right back, annoyed with his flippant attitude. “If I’d shown up to that wedding in a dress with bare legs I’d have been labeled the whore of the family tree. My branch weighed down with bad choices; exposed skin and a degenerate rockstar on my arm.”
“I mean, to their credit, I actually am a degenerate so they’re just calling ‘em like they see ‘em.” His eyes are locked on the road, but a tiny smirk tells you he’s pleased with his cleverness. “Plus, your aunt tried to fuck me, so you aren’t the only whore in the family.”
An abrupt laugh trills out of you. “Right. Which aunt?”
“Does it matter?” he shrugs. “She told me she slept with Joe Perry and it left her with a taste for guitarists…I told her Perry could suck my dick because I could stomp his riffs any day, but that only turned her on even more.”
“And then what happened?” you giggle, falling into his little pretend world.
“Well,” he sighs wearily, “Promise you won’t be angry with me?”
You’re solemn and stoic, as if this is very serious business, “Scouts honor.”
“Then, I excused myself and wound up fucking your uncle in the bathroom, instead.” he squints at an upcoming exit sign to be sure you’re headed in the right direction, and then settles back into a more relaxed state, wrist guiding the steering wheel casually.
“Was he any good?” you ask, mock sincerity laced through your tone.
“I’ve had better.” He shrugs.
“You’re so stupid.” you shake your head with a doting roll of your eyes, and reach under your dress to roll the torturous hose down and off.
He watches out of the corner of his eye, stealing glances as safely as he can while driving.
“Jesus, they were thigh highs all this time?” he sounds a little like he’s considering jerking the car over onto the shoulder of the highway to drag you into the backseat.
“All this time.” the garment in question lands in his lap.
“Lemme see.” he orders quietly before you have a chance to remove the second.
Up the hem of your dress travels until he can get a good look at the black lace resting at the top of your thigh. “Fuck, pretty girl.”
“You like that?” you tease in a silken voice.
He nods, tightening his grip on the wheel.
You push a little further with, “Are you hard?”
“I’m gonna kick you out of this car and make you walk home.” he lies, reaching out to snap the elastic lace against your skin. “Take this one off, too…it’s doing unspeakable things to me. Especially since you’re only wearing the one. You look sloppy - like I just rocked your shit in the back of a tour bus.”
“Jacob Thomas..” you gasp lightly, as though scandalized “Someone seems a little worked up.”
“I might be, if only I didn’t have such a firm grasp on the power of will, my darling.”
He’s being untruthful, but he does it so elegantly - in that soft, slightly British lilt of his, you decide to grant him a very gracious pass and drop the second into his lap.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Kiszka.” You wiggle your polished toes, enjoying the freedom. “My baby cousin, the one you let dance on your feet? She asked me if you were a pirate.”
This tugs an honest laugh out of his chest…a gorgeous sound that colors your cheeks pink. “You told her yes, I expect?”
You hum in confirmation, “I did. And I told her that you have a special sword with strings on it and it makes beautiful, dark music that people come from far away lands to hear. Just like the sirens in Peter Pan.”
His face visibly softens in the flickers of light shed by the street lamps whipping by. “You always did know how to paint a lovely picture, pretty girl.”
The low purr of the engine lulls your head against the window, but just as your eyes begin to grow heavy, he pulls you back to him with a quiet, “Hey,”
Turning your head against the seat, you study his profile, charting the map of your favorite face, “Yeah?”
”Whose baby was that you were holding? The tiny, tiny one,”
It seems such an odd thing for him to ponder, and you have to mentally sift through the reception a bit, you held a great many babies tonight…it seemed like every cousin and second cousin in attendance was weighed down by a diaper bag stuffed full of diapers and pacifiers.
”The one with the little headband bow-thingy.” He clarifies. “She was so small.”
“My cousin’s. He and his wife’s third in almost as many years. She’s only like a month old and smelled like heaven.” You draw in a breath and wish her silken tufts of hair were still pressed to your cheek, “Why?”
”I don’t know,” you know him well enough to know that’s a damn lie. “I just- I don’t know…do you ever think about it?”
Caught off guard, you opt for a little joke, “Does Jakey have baby fever?”
He smiles, and there is a touch of shyness that lives there, “Shut up. Do you think about it?”
“Do I think about having babies? Well, I-“
He interrupts quickly to set you straight, “Do you think about having babies with me?”
Oh.
Where is he heading with this? Will a bit of honesty scare him? Will it scare you?
Deciding to take the plunge, this is simply a conversation after all, and a subject that he broached to boot, you choose truth. “Yes, I’ve thought about babies with you. Although that whole twin thing is fucking terrifying.”
Again, you joke. Again, he doesn’t take the bait. “Identical twins aren’t hereditary. We’re just an accidental fuck up. When you think about it, what do you think?”
”A lot of things.”
Smoothly, he guides the car onto the off-ramp that leads to home. “Very informative, darling. A veritable treasure trove of information.”
He hasn’t tipped his hand and you aren’t about to let him off so easily. “”Do you think about it?”
”Honestly, not before. I mean, I think about how you’ll look in your wedding dress and if you’ll wear your hair swept up the way I like, and I suppose that’s sort of the same thing. Or headed in the same direction, anyway. But watching you hold that baby tonight…”
Your chest suddenly feels a little tight. You’re touched by his admission.
And how endearing that he wonders how you’ll wear your hair. You reach out and stroke the back of your hand along the cut of his jaw, “When the day comes, I’ll wear it up for you.”
~
Later, he’s draped across the bed watching you glide about the room in your bra and panties. Earrings unfastened and placed gently on your jewelry tray, necklace hung carefully, hair let loose and shaken out at long last.
Hands folded behind his head, he speaks up, breaking the spell you have unknowingly cast over him, “You said ‘a lot of things’. Elaborate.”
You turn, eyes drifting over the king lounging about upon the bed you share, in nothing but the dress pants he hasn’t yet bothered to shed. “What?”
He cocks his chin, summoning your attention further ”Babies. You said you think about a lot of things.”
He looks so fucking sinfully delicious…a sickeningly sweet cake sent from the bewitching trenches of hell to rot your teeth. “The normal things. Baby things.”
The heavy wooden frame creeks quietly as he pulls himself into a sitting position to study your expression, “Liar.”
”Oh, I’m sorry,” you dance around the accusation, “I just happen to be looking at a disgustingly attractive little shit waiting for me to climb into bed beside him. Forgive me for looking flustered.”
”Don’t be coy, darling,” he tsks, clicking his tongue against his perfect teeth. “I can see it written all over your pretty face. You’ve got a secret.”
He’s moving towards the edge of the bed now, drawing you in closer with his devilish stare. “Tell me.”
”I don’t have a secret.” Whose voice is that? Surely it’s much too quiet and meek to be your own.
”Tell the truth.” He hums, a knowing twinkle flashing in his gaze. “What do you think about?”
Your eyes refuse to meet his own as your stomach knots, warm and vibrating. “I guess…sometimes I - sometimes I think about the trying part of it all.”
He’s watching you closely, you can feel it like warm fingers dancing across your blushing skin. “So you think about fucking?”
He almost sounds disappointed. He had expected more judging by your hesitancy to share.
”Well,” your fingers are plucking at the comforter now, rooting out a loose thread to spin around your finger, “Yes, but it’s kind of more than that. I think about you… inside me.”
At last, you peek up at him. He looks curious, as if he can’t quite figure you out. “Why are you being such a little mouse about this?” His palms are cupping your face now, calluses soothing you like a song. “I’m inside you all the time, and I think about it all the time, too.”
Shaking your head gently, you find your footing…at least a smidge, “Not like that. I think about you inside me. The way you would have to be if we were trying.”
Your birth control rendered condoms unnecessary ages ago, yet he has always pulled out - ever cautious and responsible. Confusion is still painted across his features…until it isn’t.
“Oh,” a lascivious grin appears and you long to curl your tongue over his lips, “you fucking filthy little thing.”
In a blink, you’re dragged onto the bed and into his arms, tossed down with your back against the sheets. his body heated and flush against yours.
Mouth suckling and nipping at your throat, he rasps into your skin, “Is that what does it for you? Pretty girl wants my cum?”
Your body’s reaction is visceral, primal, and almost embarrassing. You’re arching away from the mattress, desperate to be even closer than you already are.
“Answer me.” He huffs, sinking a bite into your jaw.
”Yes…” your hands are in his hair, thighs around his waist, “I want it.”
”Say it.” He’s rocking against you now, hard and straining against your panties. “Say what it is that you want. What you think about.”
”I think about you fucking me,” once again, whose shaking voice is that? “I think about the way you sound when you finish, and the way your cock throbs and twitches in your hand, and how it might feel inside me.”
”Keep going.” He orders, soft and wavering in your ear.
”I think about how warm your cum would feel inside of me, and maybe I wouldn’t be able to keep it all in. Maybe it might tickle a little when it leaked out.”
”Fuck, baby…” his hands are everywhere, yanking your breasts from the cups of your bra, winding your panties down your thighs, fingers sinking into your soaking, clenching cunt with a groan that sounds pained.
He seeks out your favorite spot and tucks up into it, wrenching a wanton moan from your lungs “You want me to fill this little pussy up? Keep you dripping wet with me all day long? Fuck baby after baby into you?”
”Jake…” you’re clawing at his bare shoulders, fucking yourself hopelessly against his hand. “More.”
He slips a third finger inside you, “Is that why you get a little whiny when I pull out? My girl wants me to do it inside?”
”More,” you urge through gritted teeth, eyes locked in on his face and the lust so evident in the set of his features.
”You want four?”
”Please, Jake…” tears are threatening at your lash line, “more, more, more,”
“You’re having some trouble listening tonight, aren’t you?” he sounds diabolical, and turned on beyond belief. “I asked you a question.”
His thighs prise your legs open wider as he squeezes his pinky into your warmth to join the rest of his drenched fingers, “Do you want my cum inside you? You want me to give it to you? Keep it all safe and warm for me?”
With a mournful wail you’re reduced to a million little pieces beneath him. Rocking frantically into his touch…the heel of his hand grinding quick circles into your clit as his fingers fuck you through it. He’s covered in you, it rolls down his wrist and beads against his stomach like early morning dew, anointing him as you thrash and writhe like a beautiful, fluttering leaf in an autumn wind.
When the hazy fog clears, allowing your sight, it’s his face - stunning and beaming - you find, “Hey, pretty girl.”
Now that you’re coming down, your diffidence returns and you close your eyes in a pathetic attempt to hide.
He’s having none of it, “No, no, darling…you stay with me. Right here, baby. You look so pretty with my cock inside you, imagine how fucking beautiful you’re gonna be when I fuck you full.”
“Please, jake…” it’s pathetic really, and maybe you should care about that, but you don’t. “I need it, I need it so bad.”
“Yeah?” The gravel in his tone makes you shiver with frantic desire. “Pretty girl just wants to bounce on my cock all day? Just using me to get what she wants?”
Rather than answer, you elect to begin wrangling the button on his pants.
“Someone’s eager.” He teases softly, lifting up on one elbow, easing your struggle. “You want it that bad? Are you gonna let me cum wherever I want? Gonna let me put a baby inside you?”
“Fucking do it!” Frustrated and sparking with electric desperation, you give up and tug on his waistband feverishly until he takes over, popping the button with ease and kicking them off.
His cock is fisted in his hand now, with your eyes fiercely focused on it. Hard and beautiful and yours. “You want that inside you?” He whispers, watching you stare. “You want me to fuck you? You want me to fucking breed that pretty pussy? Make you a mama?”
You should be ashamed of yourself, you well and truly should be…but fuck if you don’t want more, “Keep talking while you fuck me,” you breathe, somewhere between imploring and begging, “Dirtier, come on…”
His cock slips inside. Just the cashmere tip teasing at you, “Dirtier?” He nudges in a little deeper, just enough to make you whine, “well what should I say, pretty girl? Should I tell you that you’re my beautiful little cum slut and if I’d known it sooner I’d have been stuffing you full all this time?” Deeper still he glides, “Or that I want to cum inside you and then fall asleep with my fingers buried in your cunt to keep it where it belongs?” He’s fucking you harder, faster…the pillowy head of his cock kissing your cervix in a divine dance between pleasure and pain. “Or should I tell you about how I think about licking it up? Kissing you with my cum on my tongue because I know you’d suck it off like the greedy little baby you are.”
“I-“ a pitiful whimper escapes you, but his fingers are suddenly grasping your chin, grounding you enough to collect your scattered thoughts. “I’m gonna cum, tell me where you’re going to cum. Tell me where you’re going to put it. Please, I want it,”
Hips rolling into a succulent grind against your swollen clit now, he begins “I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve got every last drop, pretty girl. It’s all yours, are you gonna take it for me like a good girl? Are you going to be a good little mama and take it all?”
His name is all you can manage as you shatter. It’s primeval and animalistic, sounds that would make you want to crumple in on yourself if anyone heard them besides your Jacob.
“You’re so fucking tight and wet..” his perfect cock is pounding you through it as he inches closer and closer, “are you ready for me to make a mess of this little beauty right here? Hmm? Ready for me to fuck this cunt all full and dirty? You want it?”
“Jake…” you trail off, eyes fighting to stay open and locked in on his face while you shake against him, twisting and clenching around his perfect cock, “you’re so fucking hard.”
He nods furiously, burying his face in the crook of your neck to lick your pounding pulse “That’s all you, baby. You make me that hard.”
Your hips begin rocking up to meet him even faster, hungry to please. “Good girl, you keep fucking that cock. Are you gonna take what you want? Gonna make me cum? Gonna help me fill this pretty little cunt?”
In response, your nails dig into his skin, raking your mark, claiming him. You’re almost there again, though you can’t imagine how. “I’m so fucking close,” you’re sighing and shaking the words into the room, offering confession.
“Again?” He’s mocking you so sweetly, teasing dirty words into your ear like lullabies, “Already? Is my pretty girl gonna cum on this cock? Squeeze and suck the cum right out of me to steal it away? You want it that badly?”
You let go, with a trembling breath of his name, and feel his body tense against the feverish grip of your orgasm.
”That’s it, baby,” his words are but a sigh skittering across your cheek, “That’s it. Feels so good. Feels like gold. My pretty, pretty girl…”
He fucks you faster even as you melt into a puddle within his arms. “Gonna cum for you,” he promises, “I’m gonna cum so hard for you. Who’s going to take it? Who’s gonna take every fucking drop?”
”I am,” have you even made a sound? You can’t be sure, you’re so lost.
”Yes, you are…” his forehead, slick with exertion and need, nods against your own. “You’re going to take it just like you take this cock. My good fucking girl…pretty pink baby doll just begging for me to wreck her.”
Without warning, he collapses into your arms, moaning and crying out, shuddering as he releases inside you. Warm and perfect, everything you’ve ever imagined and so much more.
His fingers sink into your muscles, clutching and pulling you closer still, “Baby…” he sounds raspy and pained, “Baby, baby, baby, fuck..fuck…”
And when at last, he calms, it is with his cheek pressed to your chest, clocking the wild metronome that is your heart with your hands sweeping through his hair.
Soon, you’ll both crawl out of bed, maybe into the shower…perhaps into the warmth of a bath, but for now it is simply you, and Jake, and this tranquil bliss.
Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie
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jazzyoranges · 1 day
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Late nights - drabble
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: sorry anon, i accidentally deleted the request 😓 but they asked for me to write a fic with tara in fem!reader’s hoodie (aka cuddly tara strikes again)
Words: 0.9k
A/n: hopefully a lil something to get me out of my writing slump. let’s hope this isn’t too bad considering i haven’t written in a few months 😅
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You really didn’t mean to be out for so long
First your boss asks you to do one favor, then another, and next thing you know you’re at work for 4 hours more than you’re supposed to be. The asshole didn’t even pay you for all the extra shit you did! You made a mental note to go job hunting this week.
Maybe the gay club was looking for a stripper? Nah. Your girlfriend would get jealous
So you were angry. Angry about your paycheck
Next a few storm clouds roll up that night. Of course you forget to bring your rain jacket that day. Not to mention, rain feels like hail stones when you’re on your motorcycle. Apparently it’d be a cold day in hell before you dressed right for the weather
So along with being angry, you were cold and wet. Shitty might’ve been the lightest way you could’ve described your day
At least you could come home to your wonderful girlfriend in an apartment of your own. It took lots of convincing and hundreds of game nights to convince Sam to even accept the idea of you and Tara being alone together. Fortunately you were blessed with patience and homosexuality — two things that could withstand Sam’s will to protect her sister
Was the older Carpenter’s place on the floor right above you and Tara’s?
Yes. Yes it was.
But if it made your girlfriend and her sister happy, you had no reason to not be as well. Other than the elevator that never fucking worked but that was out of their hands
Your shirt and hair were absolutely soaked in rainwater by the time you reached your apartment door. The was a small trail of water behind you from where you walked but that might’ve been the least of your concerns. Fishing around in your damp pants for your keys, you fortunately find them without much effort
Opening the door with as little energy you can, you lock the door behind you and triple check you locked it just like Sam told you
Not wasting any time you slide off your wet shirt in the middle of your living room, throwing it on a chair and missing the younger Carpenter waiting on the couch for you half asleep
“Baby?” Tara rubs her eyes. You stand in the middle of your hallway like a deer in headlights. You were awfully vulnerable while wet and almost naked. Who knew.
Before you can respond, there’s shuffling behind you then something weighted and warm on your back. Tara’s leaning into you with her arms around your torso while you’re wet and almost naked in the middle of your hallway. What a sight.
“Why were you so late? You’re working tonight…” Your girlfriend’s hand dips a bit below your waistband and you have to resist the urge to shiver. From the cold? From Tara? Only god knew
“My boss had me do extra shit. I’ll find a different job that doesn’t have me out so late” You turn around to face Tara while her arms were still around you “I promise”
The younger Carpenter only hums into your chest without any sign of moving. So you don’t. It gives you the chance to really soak in the moment along with the rainwater on your skin. You only pull away when your girlfriend also starts to shiver
Of course she’s wearing nothing but a hoodie
Specifically, Tara’s wearing nothing but your hoodie
“How long have you been fighting sleep? Go to bed, love” You pick up your girlfriend with her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms loosely thrown around your neck
“Since you decided you hated me” Tara mumbles into your shoulder
“When was that?”
“When you didn’t come home on time”
“And I gave you a reason why I was late”
“Which doesn’t excuse you, because you could’ve hurried up” Tara plays with your bra strap as you stop walking toward your shared bedroom
“What I’m hearing is, you don’t want to take a late night shower with me? Even after a long day of work, where you could help me de-stress?” You say with a certain smugness in your voice
Your girlfriend whips her head up at your offer but you’ve already made it to your shared bed, not wasting a second to plop her down
“Waitbabypleaseididn’tmeanit-“ You’re already in the bathroom as Tara’s trying to scramble to you
“What? Sorry, love! Can’t hear you over the shower”
You had a childhood cat that always followed you around when you were younger. Tara reminded you of when your cat would scratch at the door whenever you went to the bathroom. Your girlfriend even had the scratching down just like your cat
When you were about to hop in the bath for a quick shower, something stops you from getting in. The imagery alone that Tara is probably leaning against the door waiting for you to get out is enough to pull at your heartstrings
You weren’t mean. You missed Tara as much as she missed you. It’s why she always wore your hoodies and you always took her shirts that fit you
So against your better judgment and the water bill you’re going to have to take Advil for, you unlock the bathroom door but you don’t open it
You’re both in the shower and you’re in Tara less than a second later
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cheesycatz · 2 days
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What I imagine Spamton NEO would theoretically look like in the Wormton AU
Wormton doesn't actually know that NEO exists. He's never been inside of the mansion and never picked up the phone (Wormton himself would've have even been alive whenever the phone person tried to call canon Spamton, and whatever malworm found it would've rather chewed the cord off than listen to them). Still, I'm sure that he would absolutely want NEO if he knew what it was and how to use it.
Explaining myself under the cut:
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How NEO works
In my personal interpretation, the NEO body is incomplete. The lightner abandoned it, so its code was never finished. Since it exists in the dark world, when a darkner (Spamton) attempts to use it, the body relies on that darkner's code to finish its own, causing NEO to respond differently to whichever darkner loads themself onto it. For example, my sneo design takes from the dormant bird-like attributes left over from Spamton's code before he turned into a puppet, resulting in exaggerated claws, fur, and feathered wings (this is definitely not just an excuse to make sneo a big bird beast).
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For Wormton here, NEO took from his parasitoid wasp elements to create his translucent wings. I considered making him wingless, but I think they help change his silhouette and make him stand out. The green wires attach to his tail instead of his back, as I imagine he'd be crawling around on the walls a lot during the hypothetical bossfight. I put him at the same scale as puppet spamton to regular sneo, which puts Wormton NEO at 75 feet long. He's gained some fluffy antennae to mimic NEO's original wings, but lost some fur in order to show off the now metallic parts of his exoskeleton. His body is chunkier than regular wormton and the triangular chest opening has been changed to resemble the ribcage-like shape of wormton's "hearts" (aortic arches, what earthworms have). I decided I'd rather not deal with ten colors in one pallete and stuck with the pink and yellow parts from the original NEO design.
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If Wormton NEO did exist, I imagine that he'd once again attempt to take Kris's soul once he realizes that he's tethered to the mansion. Ignoring that NEO just ceases to exist without the wires, I imagine that Wormton would want to use it to control the city. He's now big enough that he could probably cave in a building if he wanted to, so I don't think Cyber City would have a great time if this thing was let loose. With his newfound power, Wormton would no longer have a reason to hide, considering he could crumple any antivirus like a can. His disguise is more of a finger puppet than a costume at this scale, anyways. Perhaps he'd keep the addisons alive, picking them up and treating them like dolls while he begins to infect and destroy the city. Or, the addisons, alongside everyone else, evacuate to castle town, leaving him to starve alone in an abandoned city.
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While NEO doesn't get to exist in the Wormton AU, Wormton does draw himself as NEO once, imagining a larger version of himself with colorful fluffy wings. It's much more pleasant that what he would end up with.
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bahrtofane · 2 days
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dialogue 7 trope 8 with tchouameni pls. so happy that ppl are finally writing for him 🥹❤️
- "ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad." - Bodyguard au
happy to write for him! he needs more love enjooyyyy
word count - 800+
watch it - flirty tch and weapon mentioned like once enjoyy
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You know you're not a very stereotypical bodyguard. Shorter than most, no rippling muscles that tear shirts apart. It does give you the advantage of surprise. No one expects you. Even more so for the man you've been tasked to protect. 
You know they hired you specifically to blend in and so you do. Still keeping close but you look like you could be anything from a part of the crowd to a friend and whatever more. You've seen yourself on a few gossip pages and on news articles here and there. 
They have yet to put the pieces together and you want to keep it that way. You have a job to do and a man to protect. A man that for the life of you you can't understand. 
He's an enigma on a good day. Aurélien keeps a curious eye on you, eager to watch you. But yet so hesitant. 
He doesn't talk to you all that much, but when he does he manages to squeeze playful words in between each sentence. Always catching you off guard. He goes from being honed in and focused to letting his shoulders loose in a laugh. 
Today seems like no exception. You wait in the wings backstage of an event. It's just a rehearsal for the actual thing yet you're here. Its empty save for stage screws running about with wires and microphones tangled on the floor. 
You stand arms crossed a few feet away from where Aurélien is being fitted with different wires and what not. He speaks, arms waving lazily and nodding along to whatever his agent is saying. You haven't talked to him today yet. 
He spots you soon enough, giving you a wave while you respond with a curt nod. He gets shown to where you stand, told to “hang out” here for a second while they adjust the lighting. 
“Didn't know they dragged you here too?” he says, hands resting inside the pockets of his jacket. 
“I have a job to do.” you shrug. 
“Does it even get boring? Being around the same person all the time. I know I get tired.”
Your expression remains neutral, though a spark of amusement flickers in your eyes. "Perhaps," you hum, "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm here to protect you, whether you like it or not."
He grins, gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before turning back to watch the lights cycle through the different settings. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll just have to make your job as interesting as possible," he says with a lazy shrug. 
You roll your eyes, but cant help the small smile that tugs at your lips. "I have no doubt you will," you reply dryly 
Aurélien gives you a playful smirk before leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You know," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes, "sometimes I wonder if all this protection is just an excuse to be close to me."
You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed by his attempt at flirting. "Don't flatter yourself," you retort, though you can't stop the smile that seems between your words. He's bold today. 
Leave it to Aurélien to find a way to wiggle into your personal space and under your skin with his words so early in the day. And you have so many more hours left with him. How thrilling. 
He chuckles softly, leaning even closer until his breath brushes against your ear. "Oh, come on," he murmurs, "we both know deep down, you wanna kiss me sooo bad."
You can't help but laugh, shaking your head at his shameless antics. "You wish," you reply, giving him a playful shove before straightening up, feeling the waistband of your pants for your weapon. Old habits die hard you suppose. 
Aurélien grins, the playful glint returning to his eyes as he steps back, resuming his role in the rehearsal.
You don't know what game he really plays. If his words really hold any meaning. If you should listen. So you choose the safe route and brush them off and try to do your job. Even if he insists on making it near impossible. 
He sends you knowing looks from the other side of the backstage area. Ones you know would easily strike up talk. But you can't talk your eyes off him. Partly because of your job and partly due to him being so- what's the word- dazzling. 
You do want to kiss him, but he doesn't need to know that. Not now at least.
For now you watch him do his thing while you try to do your job and push away his voice from ringing in your ears over and over. 
we both know deep down
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hauntedtotem · 2 days
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I really like your hc on why the doppels look the way they do. Do you have any theories/headcanon as to why 42 looks like that? Or the Steven doppel with the taped on paper face? That one's my fave, he's so silly
Based on both the Sticky Note and Brain Steven doppelgangers, I hc that Steven has some extreme paranoia issues that he hides from the public, pretending to be fine.
More specifically, my Steven has undiagnosed schizophrenia (did that even have a diagnosis in the 1950s?)- but he can't open up about it to anyone because if people find out he's been seeing things, he'll get discharged from the Air Force immediately.
The Note doppelganger symbolizes how he wears a mask, not wanting anyone to know his sub-par mental state. "He is Fine :)" after all, because if he wasn't he would loose his career.
The Brain doppelganger symbolizes his paranoia, the way he sometimes gets stuck in his own head and how his eyes dart nervously to every corner or shadow where something could be hiding.
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Imo the hallucinations aren't anything too extreme, shadows flickering, and thinking he always sees someone behind him, or peaking around corners, stuff like that.
But in a world with doppelgangers lurking around, he has to be cautious, he can't just brush them off because "what if this one's real". The paranoia that comes with it is a blessing and a curse, it makes him keep his guard up almost 24/7
He's good at keeping a poker face, not letting it get to him too much, but there are definitely good days and bad days to it. Being a little jumpy isn't too suspicious, but if he reacts too obviously to a hallucination- he's scared people finding out, not just because the risk of losing his positIon but also the stigma that would come with it.
One of the reasons he likes being a pilot is there's very little places in the sky for something to hide and jump out at him, real or fake.
Also not to plug my ficlet 2 asks in a row, but there is an excerpt about Steven so I have a good excuse to lol
"a pilot who's mind races with endless possibilities and visions of death, who's witnessed carnage both of reality and illusion. Behind a stone faced facade and obscuring shades, paranoia clutches the mind and eyes dart nervously towards every shadow. The constant nagging of adrenaline and panic being held trapped behind an un-moving mask. An all consuming mind, seeing danger at every corner, only ever knowing peace while in the emptiness of the skies"
As for 42, I just see him as an Easter egg character so idk how to interpret him into the lore atm. 42 is simply the answer to Everything lol /ref
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