#i assure you that i love all my mutuals equally but i think i was only supposed to tag 4
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Thanks for the tag, @prodigaldaughteralice!
Favorite color: I've always liked black and red, but purple's been growing on me, lately. TBH, I really like the ace pride flag (black, gray, white, and purple), which is fortunate for me, an asexual. Like, I could easily put together an outfit with all of those colors, look damn good in it, and I feel like most people wouldn't suspect anything.
Currently reading: Tragically, I haven't read any books in a long time. I own several that I at one point intended to read, but never got around to. It's gotten to the point that I've pretty much stopped asking for books for Christmas/my birthday because I know they'll just take up space and go unread. I should change this.
Last song: "Who Can It Be Now?" by Men at Work. This is also the song I currently use as my alarm, so I'll probably hear it again in a few hours if I don't sleep through it. Not enough songs with sax solos these days.
Last series: I'm currently watching the second season of Amphibia. I just finished the episode with Kermit Crumpet the Frog and Stan Pines Ponds. I love it, but it still hasn't gotten to the point where I'm binge watching it because I absolutely must know what happens next. I've also been watching Westworld and Better Call Saul, but I'm caught up on those.
Last movie: I'm pretty sure the last movie I watched was They/Them. It wasn't very good. I think the last movie I watched in theaters was On The Count Of Three (TW for suicide if you decide to look that up), which probably tells you how often I go to the movies since it came out in May. I enjoyed that one, but the trailer led me to believe it was going to be funnier than it actually was. I'm not saying it was unfunny, but it's more of a dramedy than a pure comedy. I guess there's a limit to how funny a movie about two guys who want to kill themselves can be. No, iPhone, I did not want to write "Jill themselves". Why would anyone want to write that?
Sweet/spicy/savory: In order of preference, sweet, savory, then spicy. I tend to gravitate towards sweet foods, but if I ever have cravings for something, it's usually for savory foods. I feel like I used to do better with spice, but lately I'll see spicy food and just think, "That doesn't sound very good." I'm sure if I ate it, I'd enjoy it, but it's always like this mental block. I feel like part of it is that it tends to give me acid reflux now when it didn't use to, so I have to know in advance so I can take a Prevacid or something.
Currently working on: I've got a song, but I don't have a good title for it yet. Working title is "Village at Night" or "Peaceful Theme". My overarching goal is to create an album that could plausibly be a video game soundtrack, and the idea for this one was to be the main menu theme. I'd include a clip, but I don't want to bother with turning on my computer right now, so I'll just say it reminds me of "Home" from Undertale and "See You Tomorrow" from OMORI, neither of which is the main menu theme for their respective games, but that doesn't really mean my song couldn't be the hypothetical main menu theme of its nonexistent game. I also always feel like my songs are too short and/or don't have conclusive endings, forgetting that the main feature of video game music is that it (usually) loops indefinitely.
Other things I'm working on include getting to bed earlier. Since it's currently 4am, you can see how well that's going. (I went to bed at 5am last night, so I guess technically I am moving in the right direction, but my goal was to be in bed closer to 2am.)
I'll tag @sukifoof, @asgore-agenda, @sleebyjam, and @momxu, but no pressure. Anyone else who wants to do this can, too.
#long post#tag game#anyone else worried that it looks like you're playing favorites when you only tag a few mutuals in these? no? just me?#i assure you that i love all my mutuals equally but i think i was only supposed to tag 4
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— toned.
pairing. bangchan x (afab)reader
cw. thigh / ab riding, size kink and mutual pining if you squint, hints of sub!chan, chan is so desperate when it comes to your pleasure </3 poor baby comes in his pants >< friends to… something..? kinda pwop because i'm sleepy and i just really love the idea of grinding on chan's abs :<
word count. 1.5k
[ i had to come out of my 3 year tumblr writing hiatus because this has been on my mind for so long, and that picture that changbin had posted of his back did not help at all… ]
chan's rapid change of physique came to no one's surprise. given his role as an idol, you knew how much he valued being "presentable," to be the visually strong leader of a group of equally strong men. he'd started to spend more time at the gym, and in return, his build had more of an effect on you than you liked to admit: competent abs, the firm muscle lining his torso. the way his skin dips and curves, begging to be seen whenever he lifts his shirt up "innocently," but you swear it's an invitation every time.
suggestive complaints spilled from his plump lips about how sore his body is from his training earlier, the sweat still drying on him as the musk lingers. he's tempting and he knows he is, sleeves rolled up to accentuate his broad shoulders. his arms bulged as they cross over his body. "it's still hot," he excuses, but you know he wants you to take note of the way his veins texture his skin.
yet chan has the audacity to act flustered when you compliment the muscle he's worked so hard for. it's his routine, even in front of the camera: show off just to hide behind his fingers, that familiar red tint flushing his cheeks. but it's obvious he's putting on a front this time. he wants you to need him, too prideful to take you for himself. he's purposely stretching his body upwards, skillful in how he lets a sultry groan fall from his tongue while the hem of his black shirt rides up his waist to expose his defined v line, tantalizingly disappearing into the fabric of his sweatpants.
he has the audacity to act smug when you find yourself hopelessly rubbing against his clothed thigh, perched on top of him while your fingers ghost the lines of his abs. one of your hands grasps at his shoulders, nails digging into his delicate skin as one of his own rests gently on your hips, feeling the way you roll against him. his shirt had long been discarded, courtesy of your desperation as well as his discreet eagerness.
"you're so beautiful, princess," he coos lowly, brows furrowed and eyes hazy as he watches your expression. his cock is straining against his pants, just as sore as he claimed his body was, and you can physically feel how wet your pussy is each time you rock your hips forward. "y'like getting off knowing i'm all yours, don't you?"
you'd never had a preference for body type, but chan's build seemed to break you as you watched it develop; squirming at the mentions of his measurements, wide shoulders with a pretty waist, perfectly sectioned abs adorning his stomach. it was something about him in particular that had you craving him. he was nothing short of a gentleman, respectful and ideal. the type of man you knew your parents would approve of immediately. chris is careful with his words, knows exactly what to say and when to assure everyone he's acquainted with knows that he is no hassle.
perhaps, in some sinister, perverted fashion, it's his pleasantries that had you thinking of your best friend in ways that were animalistic in more ways than one. you caught onto every single one of his innuendos, all of the subtle gestures that you interpreted as bait, that made you wonder how tainted his mind was behind his polite and polished demeanor. watching him carry the weight of his members around on stage with nothing more than a soft breath, you couldn't help but let your mind wander, would he be able to manhandle you with that same ease?
soon enough, he'd slipped your pants off, though instead of settling back onto his thigh, you were straddling his torso, sore cunt draped right on top of his abs. chan let out a guttural whimper at the feeling of wet heat sliding across his stomach, clit catching along the dips of his muscle that sent static down your spine; both of you are sensitive, him in ways he couldn't really explain. "fucking love your pussy, baby," he gasped, dark eyes peering up longingly through long lashes. although there’s no pressure against his waist, he bucks up anyway, rutting his hips into thin air to counteract your own motions. large hands grasp your hips, thighs, ass, anything chan can reach from where he’s leaning back against the couch. “you’re so pretty getting off on me.” he’s desperate to feel more of you, latching onto any skin he can grope, his palms roaming aimlessly around your frame as they dip in and out from underneath your shirt.
meanwhile, you’re just as lost in the moment as the male is: hips stuttering as you grind down on his stomach, his hardened abs providing the perfect amount of pressure and rigidness that your cunt practically cried for. the soft pants that escaped your mouth matched chan’s rhythmically, whines coated with lust and neediness. you hadn’t been far from the truth, at least it didn’t feel like it when your best friend was just as turned on, grunting as he tried to nudge his clothed erection against you.
chan still upheld his chivalrous personality, even when his dick was painfully straining on his pants; he didn’t dare disrupt your chase towards your orgasm, moaning lowly as he watched your brows cinch, eyes clamped shut with your mouth gaped open. “gonna come all over me, huh?” he breathed out, sweat beading at his temple. the way your pussy slipped so easily along his abs made him dizzy, sopping wet and sticky against his skin. it was so much more than what he always imagined when he fucked himself into his hand, drunk on the way you used his body like this was what he’d worked so hard for—for you to come all over the muscle he trained for months to develop, leaving red streaks under your nails along his defined back and grasping onto him as roughly as he was groping you.
you could feel his abdomen tensing between your legs, laying more of your weight onto the male as your thrusts became more fervid and sloppy. your clit was caught right between the ridges of his abs, rocking back and forth as wanton cries fell from your lips to echo his own. with the way you were fucking yourself onto him, he would’ve assumed you were just making up for a lack of proper pleasure; though in reality, you’d just been thinking about how he’d fuck you since the very beginning of your friendship.
“channie, i’m so close,” you barely manage in the midst of your cries, the sound of your pussy lathering his skin in wetness loud enough for the both of you to hear. what you can’t see behind you is the obvious tent in chan’s pants, going unnoticed for the time being. it’s carnal and shameful the way you’re getting off on each other, his desperate attempts to fuck against you leaving him looking like a dog in heat all while your hips move rapidly on his torso.
his grasp tightened on your hips, guiding you as he pushes your weight further down onto him, and he’s rewarded by the loud gasp you let out as your body shudders. “come on me, princess. show me how good i make you feel.” chan’s sitting upwards now, his touch trailing up your sides as his eyes never leave you for a second. one hand, thankfully, makes its way between your thighs, his finger rubbing at your clit and he almost moans out loud at how wet you feel under his touch. “c’mon, i’m all yours, baby. let it out.”
what chan doesn’t expect is for himself to come too, immediately after watching your orgasm seep into the lines of his muscles, pussy fluttering and red at the sudden stimulation. he can feel his own cum pressed against the tip of his cock, staining the front of his pants with a relieved groan. and he can feel the slight burn of the scratches you left on his back while you’re coming down from your high in the security of his large arms. you can only mumble sniffled thank you’s to him while he holds you right against his chest, though he can’t help but rut up against you while you’re properly situated on his lap now. “you did so well for me, pretty,” he reassured you right into your ear, hoping you were too distracted to notice the way he was still trying to grind his cock against you. but the feeling of his wet sweatpants was unmistakable against your bare cunt. you’d speculated that chan had pretty good stamina, and it seemed to prove right when he’s eagerly sliding his sweats off to properly show you just how good he can make you feel.
#i love chan's abs#and his back#i just love buff men#bangchan#bangchan x reader#bangchan smut#bangchan imagines#bangchan hard thoughts#bang chan x reader#skz smut#skz hard thoughts#skz x reader
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Two for One: Chapter Four
Neighbor!Dave York x F!Reader x Human!Max Phillips
Series Masterlist
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, familial drama and angst, mentions of drug use/abuse, alcoholism!, stalking (don’t do it), voyeurism (so so much), invasions of privacy, mutual masturbation, sexting, oral (m receiving), dom!Dave, soft!Dave, dom!Max, softish!Max, public sex, work sex, some fluff, maybe?, SEA OTTERS!, murder, poison, asphyxiation, let me know if I forgot anything, watch me make up stuff about an aquarium I’ve never been to and also poison.
Word Count: 7,700+
Notes: Sorry this took forever because my brain is dumb. I just want to thank all of you for being so patient. I love you and hope you have a wonderful 2024. 💜 Enjoy and feel free to leave me feedback if you wish! 😊
(Not my gif)
—
You make Max exchange phone numbers as he’s leaving your apartment.
“No more showing up uninvited,” you reprimand him, the heel of your palm planted firmly between his shoulder and sternum as you push him into the corridor of your building, “I mean it.”
He cocks his head to one side, lopsided smirk twisting his lips, forehead wrinkling as he lifts his brows, pausing. He’s staring at your still very much flushed and sweaty face. “You sure about that, doll?”
Your skin heats even more. You hate to admit that his smarmy defiance arouses you in ways that it shouldn’t.
“Max. If we’re going to keep whatever this is ongoing, I’m going to need some compliance here. For my privacy.”
Max’s smirk only grows wider and he beams at you, his gaze sliding down your face to your lips, hands raised in surrender. “You mean so I don’t cross paths with him, is that it?” he asks, quirking one of his brows to the side, knowing you’re fully cognizant who he’s talking about. “Fine.”
“Tell me you’re not bullshitting,” you retort.
“Woman,“ Max begins, wagging a finger at you, “I assure you that I am in no way being deceitful.”
He hasn’t wiped that shit eating grin off his face the entire time he’s been standing in front of you, either.
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Scout’s honor?” you press.
“Scout’s honor,” he replies, lifting his hand in a mocking salute.
You sigh and shove him back another step, his back almost flush with your neighbor’s door.
“Goodbye, Max,” you snip, turning to go back to the comfort of your apartment, when that gnawing southern upbringing decides to make a re-emergence once more, and you remember your manners.
With a sigh, you turn to give him one last glance, your visage softening in its regard. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink.” And you mean it, even if it’s likely all melted and weeping on the table by now.
You almost think you see his own features grow a shade softer, and before you can dwell on it, he’s suddenly shifting back into your space.
Your initial instinct is to flinch, to shove him away, because after Dave and him in a single day, your poor fucked out pussy can’t handle anymore punishment.
But he doesn’t grope or manhandle you. Max’s arms grapple you into a snug embrace, his hot breath fanning over your neck. It’s uncharacteristically soft for Max to show this level of affection and you would hug him back if he wasn’t clamping your arms to your sides.
“Thank you,” he whispers, keeping you ensnared for a few lingering moments before releasing you and taking a step back.
“Yeah… no problem,” you offer awkwardly, because what else do you say to that? “I’ll see you around. I work tomorrow, opening to two.”
Max nods, his usual crooked smirk making a reappearance. “See you then.”
“And hey?”
“Yeah?”
“Be nice to my coworkers. It’s the least you could do,” you remind him.
His smirk doesn’t fade, tongue swabbing the inside of his cheek. “I’ll do my best.”
You snort and shake your head, watching as he disappears down the stairwell.
——
After Max leaves, you spend the remainder of the afternoon and evening wallowing around your apartment, watching bad reality television and trying not to think about… well, anything, pouring yourself some vodka with whatever mixers you can scrounge up until your brain mellows to a welcome numbness.
You order take out for dinner because, fuck saving money at this point. Proceeding the earlier conversation with your mom, you aren’t even sure why you’re trying to get back to Texas anymore.
It’s far easier having several states between you, even if you do miss your grandmother and have a wicked hankering for some barbecue right about now.
You check Facebook periodically anyway, not at all surprised to see your mother asking for prayers and attention from all the faceless online entities because she did not receive the validation she sought from you.
You grumble and toss your phone down every time you read a new ‘woe is me’ comment from your mother and you wonder why you’re even torturing yourself like this.
Belly full of chow mein, you settle down into your bed for the remainder of the evening to distract yourself with some mind numbing television to go along with the buzz you’re feeling.
When your phone lights up, you sigh in indignation, expecting a text from your mother as you swipe open to the notifications.
Much to your delight, it isn’t your mother, and you let out the breath you realize you’ve been holding in.
Dave: Hey, you.
You smile. Relief washes over you as heat simultaneously slithers its way up your spine.
Dave decides to change to split screen, one side with the recorded footage and the other side with the current feed, and he watches as you smile at your phone, steadily stroking himself, his phone vibrating your response a few seconds later.
You: Hey, you. 😜
You: I was beginning to wonder if you’d made it to VA
Dave: Yeah. Long day.
Dave: You made it worth it, though.
You: Doubt that
That makes him chuckle. He knows you know that to not be true.
He continues to stare at you, your gaze glued to your phone as you await his reply. You’re sitting up in bed now, back against the wall, wearing a different but equally revealing top than the thin camisole you had on earlier, blanket pooling in your lap.
The veins in his dick pulse when he ponders if you’re wearing any pants under the covers, and his eyes flick back to the recording of Max eating you out, a soft, breathy moan escaping his lips. The pleasure on your face is telling.
Dave: You do, huh?
Dave: Maybe I should show you, then.
You bite your lip at his response, quickly punching in your reply and hitting send.
You: Aren’t you supposed to be spending time with your kids?
Dave: they’re in bed. It’s late.
His head lifts from the monitor momentarily—only as long as necessary—taking his headphones off to listen for any sounds of wakefulness from the bedroom. When he finds there is none, he turns his attention back to you, freeing himself from his sweats, tugging them down to his knees.
He quickly snaps and sends a photo of his rigid cock, colored a deep shade of mauve at the head, hand fisted at the base, dark curls peeking out from underneath his palm.
You swallow, your walls tightening and mouth watering at the mere sight of it, breath puffing softly past your lips. And you’re almost surprised how turned on you still are, despite the events of the past two days.
Max is just a phone call away, you tell yourself, quickly squashing that thought right out of your brain just as quickly as it arrives. You’d hate to risk having him spend the night with you. Besides, you should probably give yourself a break.
You: Jesus, Dave.
Dave: All for you, baby
Dave: This is what you do to me. I was hard almost the entire way here.
Dave: What are you doing?
You snicker through your nose at the sudden shift in conversation, deciding to play along anyway. Going back to the picture every so often to admire it.
You: Watching TV
Dave: Anything good?
You: Just reruns of 1,000 Lb. Sisters. It’s a good show, you should watch it
Dave: I would watch it with you if I was there.
Dave: if I could keep my hands off of you
Dave: Touch yourself.
You laugh when the conversation takes yet another rapid turn, but you barely give it a second thought the moment you feel your clit throb with need, firing off a response to Dave before breaching the band of your panties with your fingers.
You: Yes sir
Dave: good girl
Dave drags his tongue along his plump lower lip when he sees your hand disappear beneath the covers, his eyes darkening with lust.
Dave: show me
You throw the blanket back and he’s pleased as punch to see you’re only wearing panties. He watches intently as you shuck them off and toss them to the floor.
You open the camera app on your phone and begin recording, doing your best to get the shot right but it’s difficult to see much from your perspective. You take the video anyway.
Breathing softly, you slide two fingers between your folds and sink them into your entrance as far as you can manage, which isn’t enough and will never be enough compared to Dave or Max, before dragging them back out again to display the shiny coating of arousal on your digits for the camera.
You save the video and send it to Dave immediately.
Dave: Fuck
Dave: Can you get a different angle? I need to see it
He almost tells you to prop your phone up on the window sill by the bed, but he doesn’t want to risk you somehow finding out he’s watching you. It’s possible you would think nothing of it, since he has seen the inside of your apartment now, but he’d prefer not to take the chance.
You frown and stop touching yourself, looking around the room in consideration before scooting on your knees over to the window to prop the phone against the pane of glass.
You hit record and maneuver into position, spreading, lifting your eyes to make sure everything is in frame. Shockingly, it is, and this new angle is so visual and obscene that even your OB/GYN would be impressed.
You record a short video of your fingers circling your clit, letting out a soft, salacious moan.
You still feel very much used from Dave and Max in a single day, but you make sure to keep your own touches as light as possible.
You record about ten seconds of yourself and send it to Dave.
Dave: Fuck
Dave: Need to fuck that little pussy full of me
Dave: We’re getting you an IUD and I’m paying for it
Dave: Fuck
His eyes move back to the side with you and Max, at which point you’re cumming on Max’s face, and Dave’s balls tighten with longing. He remembers exactly how you taste when you hit your high, and his mouth waters in remembrance.
Any jealousy he feels is immediately snuffed out by how much he wants you. How much he needs you.
You: I can pay for it
You: [video]
He’s so distracted by watching Max making you cum, his hand pumping himself more rapidly, that he doesn’t realize you were recording again. Your fingers swirl your bud faster, your hips twitching and coming up from the mattress.
Dave: Jesus
Dave: It will be well worth the money to see my cum dripping out of that tight little hole
You: such things you say, Dave
He smirks.
Dave: use a toy
You: How do you know I have one?
Dave: dirty fucking sluts like you always have toys
Dave: do what I say
Arousal floods your core when Dave’s true colors bleed through, even over text. You can practically see his brow pulling into a hard, dark line; see the way his lips curve ever so slightly into a sadistic and hungry smirk.
You don’t dawdle, leaning crossways over your bed to retrieve your favorite toy from your bedside drawer — you have a few accumulated from your time with Jonathan, since he never got you off — a vibrator with a curve at the end for optimal g-spot stimulation.
You: yes sir
You: [video]
You: is this sufficient
Dave receives a video of you clicking on the toy and sliding it teasingly along your slick and swollen labia, pausing periodically at your clit, your moans quiet yet lewd. All for him.
Dave: fuck. Gonna have to fuck you with the toy in you like that
You: I look forward to it sir
Your words send a rush of heat through Dave as his vision subconsciously slips back over to the side with you and Max, who’s now railing into you from behind like a jack hammer, and he damn near cums on that image alone.
He wanted to kill Max for how he had treated you. But now, watching Max bring you pleasure, and how much you appear to be enjoying it, he can’t stop his thoughts from wandering. Would you let both men inside you at the same time? Would you like it?
Would Max take orders from him like a good boy?
That last thought admittedly gives Dave pause and he shakes it from his mind. He had done things in the military, sure, most of the men had, missing their wives and girlfriends. But that was a side of him he hadn’t acknowledged in years, and he shoves it down to the furthest recesses of his brain, returning his focus to you.
Dave: good girl. Now put in and make yourself cum for me
You slide the toy past your opening with little effort, and you’re so worked up it takes almost no time at all before you’re chanting his name. Dave watches, transfixed, pupils dilated and jaw slack, eyes drifting back and forth between the two images on the screen, a cry departing your lips as you reach peak.
You: [video]
You: Mmm wish it was you making me cum though
Almost like serendipity, you cum on the recorded footage at almost the exact same moment as he witnesses it in real time. He can’t hold himself back any longer, and he barely has time to pull his phone back out to record before he’s shooting like a geyser all over his hand and lower abdomen, thick and milky spend dribbling down the backs of his knuckles.
Dave: Fuck
Dave: [video]
Dave: wish this was all over your fucking face instead
You sigh and fall back, panting, opening the last text with a satisfied grin painting your lips as you watch Dave spill down his hand.
You: Rather it inside of me
You place the phone down and crawl off the bed to go clean yourself and your toy in the bathroom, smiling to yourself.
Several states away, Dave heads to the bathroom in his hotel suite to do the same.
But as the high starts to dissipate, your trepidation inexplicably returns, twisting like a knife in your gut. You like Dave. Probably a little too much. And you shouldn’t. Because the day will come when he hurts you, just like Jonathan did.
You do your best to swallow down your doubt and finish cleaning yourself up, traipsing back into the main room to retrieve your panties and slip them back on.
A new text message lights up your phone.
Dave: Soon.
Dave: Can I call you?
Dave sees you sigh and chew at your lip, one of your hands coming up to the back of your neck. You seem unsure.
Your anxiety triggers his own, making him worry if he’s moving too quickly for you.
You: Sure
Now clad only in his sweats, Dave takes in a prolonged breath, hitting the call button. It rings twice before you answer.
“Hi,” you answer quietly.
“Hi,” Dave returns and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Thank you for that. I needed it after today…”
He switches off the recorded footage and goes back to watching just you. You.
You’ve already moved back under the covers, snuggling up with your back facing the window, one arm drawn up under your chin.
“You’re welcome,” you reply after a beat. “I needed it too.”
Oddly enough, you did, despite how many times you’ve already cum today, which was a welcome end to a stressful day.
That makes Dave grin, and he feels a pang of want as he wishes he were there to hold you in his arms, to feel your back pressed up against his chest.
“I miss you,” he confesses with a soft, nervous chuckle. His change in demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by you — a man of dual natures, an enigma. “Wish you were here.”
He chastises himself silently for saying too much, but it’s true.
You swallow down the coiling anxiety you feel.
“Yeah. That would be great,” you proffer gently. You change the subject as seamlessly as you can. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”
He notices, but doesn’t point it out. “Taking the girls to the aquarium.”
You actually do soften at that. You always loved visiting the aquarium as a kid.
“Oh, how fun! I love aquariums. I know there’s one here… I’ve never been.”
“I’ll take you sometime,” Dave suggests. “We’ll make it a date.”
Your skin heats and you take your welling emotions and stamp them down as deep as you can. “Yeah.”
“What is your favorite marine animal?” Dave randomly asks.
“What, why?”
“Curious.”
You think it over for a moment. “Sharks,” you reply, “I like sharks.”
You hear him chuckle. “Figured you for more of a sea otter type.”
“Sea otters? Do explain, Dave.”
Although you can’t see it, he shrugs. He’s still watching you, fixated on the way your fingers fidget with the covers.
“Women usually like the cute sea animals. And sea otters are cute,” he says.
“Because I’m a woman, I’m not allowed to like things that aren’t, by your definition, ‘cute’? That’s sort of sexist, don’t you think?”
He lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re right. My bad.”
“Your bad? Well, what is your favorite sea animal, then?” you press.
“… Sea otters,” Dave answers without any additional thought, and you can’t control the burst of laughter that erupts from you. It makes his heart vibrate with affection hearing the joy in your voice and watching the way your nose crinkles when you smile.
“Oh, fuck off!” you tease, and he can’t help but laugh along with you.
“You need to go to bed,” you tell him as soon as the laughter dies down.
“What if I’d rather stay up all night talking to you?” he counters.
“Then I imagine tomorrow will really suck,” you quip back.
“It will be worth it.”
“Dave,” you begin in a more earnest tone, “I have work in the morning. Early. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
Talk…masturbate mutually. Either way.
Your buzz is starting to wear off. Dave sees you rub at your eyes as you reach for your cigarette pack with the other, lighting it up and taking a long drag.
He knows you’re guarded and he supposes he understands why. He hopes you’ll let your walls down sooner than later.
“Okay,” he sighs in resignation. “But I’ll be thinking about you all day tomorrow.”
You tap the growing head of ash against the edge of the empty plant tray you’ve been using as a makeshift ash tray.
“Me too. Goodnight. Have fun tomorrow, alright?”
“Yeah. I’ll try,” Dave replies honestly, and you exchange your goodbyes before hanging up.
He continues to watch you. And not just until you’ve finished your cigarette or gotten out of bed to — presumably — have one final pee.
He watches you plug up your phone and set your alarm. He even watches you as you curl into a fetal position, clutching one of your extra pillows against your torso, and he wishes it was him instead.
Soon, he reminds himself.
He doesn’t stop watching until he’s sure you’re completely asleep. And even then he lingers, only stopping when one of the girls — his youngest, Alice — rouses from sleep in absolute hysterics, loud enough to wake the dead. Something she had started doing around the start of the divorce process.
He sighs, slipping back into dad mode, swiping a hand over his sleep weary face as he shuts his laptop down and heads to the bedroom.
——
Like clockwork, Max is at The Beanery around 7:30 AM for his morning caffeine fix.
You’re grateful that it’s slow and that Audrey and Vincent are in the back room folding boxes and chattering away about god only knows what. Almost like you’d planned it that way. Like you gave them each monotonous side work on purpose.
You knew Audrey was working today and you wanted to stave off the inevitability of admission that you don’t really have the power to ban Max as long as you could. Or resist him, for that matter.
You’re also grateful that Audrey was able to hide your hickies and bruises using the expensive foundation she brought to work just for you, at your insistence, with the incentive that she could leave two hours early with pay today. A decision that would probably bite you in the ass later.
You didn’t tell her who or what they were from and she didn’t ask.
You receive a text from Dave mere moments before the chimes hanging over the door signal Max’s arrival, causing your blood to heat and your skin to pebble.
It’s an image of Dave in a steamy bathroom, fully nude, hand curled around the base of his stiffened cock, with the caption: Wish you were here
You respond with a very underwhelming selfie in your work cap and apron, to which he replies almost immediately: You’re fucking adorable
You can’t help the heat that crawls up your cheeks.
You slip your phone back into your apron and start cleaning the espresso machine when Max traipses in, strolling up to the counter like he owns the place.
Or like he owns you, more like it.
“Morning,” you greet, and the remaining traces of your flustered state swell once again the moment you see Max in his primped and tailored three piece, donning a flashy paisley red tie. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him not adorned in a suit, aside from when he’s naked.
“Your usual?” you query, starting on his Americano before he even has a chance to respond.
“Morning,” Max parrots, smirking as his eyes bore into you. “And add whatever you want for yourself, sweetheart.”
He’s certainly starting off early today, isn’t he?
“That isn’t necessary,” you say.
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he tuts and slams his card down in front of you. When you go to retrieve it, he reaches out to grip your wrist gently, and your eyes snap up to meet his.
He can see the affect he’s already having on you just by proximity alone, his cock already growing rigid in his pants.
“Thanks,” you squeak out and ring up Max’s drink and yours with your free hand, running the card and handing it back to him.
“Good girl,” he purrs in a rich timbre. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.”
And he really couldn’t. He doesn’t oft have a habit of bringing women to his place, opting for theirs or someplace else instead, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you in his bed, waking up next to him that morning so he could make you sing his praises first thing.
“Let me get your drink…” you tell him, attempting to take a step away, but his grip on your wrist holds true, tightening infinitesimally, thumb circling your pulse point.
Max leans forward, a single elbow rested on the countertop. “Or,” he suggests, his voice low and barely an octave above a whisper, “you can meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”
His eyes flash and he releases you, shooting you a stilted grin before heading to the small bathroom in the corner.
At first, all you can do is gape in disbelief, your jaw slack. Did Max Phillips really just come into your place of business and ask you to meet him in the bathroom?
You turn to listen to the sounds coming from the back room; Audrey and Vincent seem to be prattling on about something, oblivious.
You sigh and resign yourself to curiosity, to self torture, checking to see that the coast is clear.
“Hey, Vince, listen for the front, please. I… I’ll be right back,” you call out and take in another prolonged breath.
“10-4, dinosaur!” Vince chimes back and you roll your eyes, rounding the corner of the counter and heading over to the bathroom.
As you approach, the door swings open and Max pulls you inside before you can even reach for the handle.
He barely gives you time to react before he’s locking the door and crowding into you, pushing you back against the wall and pinning you as his hips grind your thigh hard. He starts to grab at you, everywhere, pawing at your clothes, your body. His mouth finds your neck and when his teeth start to bear down, you protest weakly.
He doesn’t listen; or maybe he’s just so overwhelmed with his desire to be inside of you that he’s lost any semblance of composure.
It doesn’t take you long to realize you don’t want to do this here. Not at work and not when your body needs a break, still so sore and overwrought from the last couple of days, and you attempt to push him away. He only pushes right back, unwilling to hear your pleas, because he thinks it’s what you would want.
“Max,” you groan and you feel your resolve slipping although you shouldn’t, “not here.”
“Come on baby,” Max growls, gently nipping at your earlobe, “let me inside of you.”
He pins your arms above your head at the wrists with one of his hands while the other begins to undo your belt, moving swiftly, his breathing desperate and heady.
He hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind for two whole days and pining over a woman isn’t something Max Phillips does.
Your resolve is rapidly waning and just about gone, arousal welling up within you. But with your last remaining shred of dignity, you’re able to shove him away and grit out, “Max, lavender,” your safe word.
Part of you expects to be ignored regardless, as Max has a habit of doing whatever the fuck he wants, and what you suspect to be very few morals. To your surprise, however, he does stop.
He releases you and takes a tentative step back, lips parted, hurt and uncertainty twisting his features. With nothing to say, at least for a few brief seconds.
His eyes meet yours and he lifts his hands in surrender, a frown creasing his brows. “Fine. That’s fine. I just figured since you came in here…”
“Max, shut up,” you say as you step towards him and you’re the one undoing his belt this time, positioning him with his back to the sink. “I just didn’t wanna— I mean, I want a break, but let me just… do this instead,” you further explain as you successfully get everything undone, sinking to your knees in front of him.
Understanding settles over Max and he nods, eyes growing a shade darker as he watches you finagle his slacks and boxers down, hardening cock springing free after a moment.
Of course none of the tile on the floor is even, so you have to adjust slightly to prevent the edges from digging into your knees and make yourself more comfortable, your hands sliding down Max’s thighs as you look up at him through your lashes.
He gently places a palm atop your head, fingers curling into your hair. “That’s it, doll. Be my good girl, now.”
He has to stifle the loud moan that reverberates from his lungs as you spit directly onto his shaft and grip him in your fist to begin slowly jacking him off, swiping the flat of your tongue up his length, his entire body vibrating.
You pause at the head, circling it, lapping at the pearl of precum that collects at the slit. He grasps your hair with a firmer hold, tugging at the roots.
“Don’t be a… fucking tease… or I’ll fuck you anyway,” he warns and in spite of yourself, you moan, and almost break.
You grin to yourself and take him deeper into your mouth, still holding him steady with one hand at the base as you adjust to his size, slowly pistoning your head forward and back.
“That’s it. Ohhh yes, good girl, sweetheart, good girl,” Max pants softly.
You slide your tongue along the underside of his dick, pausing at the fold of skin at the head as you rock forward, causing his hips to shudder and you eventually bottom out.
He grunts and grips the back of your neck, holding you flush against his groin, the dark and manicured thatch of hair tickling at your nose.
You can smell and taste the soap he uses; woodsy and light, nothing over the top nor underwhelming, but he’s as clean and well groomed as you would expect a pretentious man like Max to be.
He releases you when your eyes start to water and you murmur a noise of protest, allowing you to take a short break for air.
“Come now, darling, you can do better than that,” he notes with a small pout.
You nod in agreement and wet your lips, placing your hands on his hips as you take him back into your mouth and his head rolls back with a sigh, hands going to either side of your face.
You bottom out again and manage to hold better this time, hollowing out your cheek bones and breathing through your nostrils, relaxing your jaw and throat as you do so.
“Good girl… good… fucking girl,” he praises, nary louder than a whisper, running his fingertips along your scalp.
You tremble at the attention, moaning as you taste more precum dribbling onto your tongue, bobbing your head faster—as fast as you can—to get the job done as expeditiously as possible.
He groans and grasps your cheeks tighter, stilling your movements, holding you exactly where he wants you, and without any prior warning, starts rutting into your mouth.
“That’s right, that’s right… you can take it, can’t you? You can take it,” he growls, and there’s little else you can do but let him use your body as he wishes.
You can get the job done quickly but Max can get it done faster, knowing you’re on a time crunch.
You slacken your muscles as much as you can, as much as your body will allow, breathing through your nose and trying not to gag, especially considering you can feel and hear him nearing his release.
He starts to sputter what mostly sounds like nonsense words to you, gripping your cheeks and neck tightly in his large hands, rutting into your mouth with wreckless abandon and all you can do is sit there with the uneven tile digging into your tender knees and take it, letting go of his thighs to find purchase on the vanity behind him.
Finally, his hips begin to catch and then eventually seize, and with a low, guttural growl he spills hot and thick into your mouth, and you accept everything he has to offer you, swallowing it all with ease.
“Good girl… good girl…” he puffs, chanting your name softly on his tongue.
You milk him of every last feasible drop and a line of spittle connects you as you pull away, bringing your hand up to swipe at your mouth and breaking the string in the process.
He’s still panting as he helps you to your feet; you move to step to the sink so you can clean your face and rinse out your mouth. Without warning, Max grabs you once more, different than only a moment ago, ensnaring you in another tight hug and pushing you against the wall.
“Max… hey—“
He hasn’t even pulled his pants up yet. He squeezes you, lips ghosting over your skin as he presses his nose to the soft space between your neck and skull, inhaling your scent. And just… holds you like that, in an embrace, not at all dissimilar to yesterday.
“Thank you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you’re once again struck with his sporadic shift in demeanor.
“Uhh… you’re welcome,” you reply and he breaks the hug, a single hand coming up to cradle your jaw, thumb dragging your bottom lip as he stares at it, contemplative and fixated.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to return the favor?” Max asks.
“Um… no… I need to clean up and get back out there,” you explain, causing his hand to drop from your face.
“Yeah. Yeah, right,” he says, almost appearing crestfallen — almost — as he tucks himself and his shirt back into his work slacks, buckling his belt and giving himself a cursory once over in the mirror.
You turn away and ignore him as you smooth down your clothes, splash some water over your face and rinse out your mouth and when you’ve determined you don’t look super fucked out, you confirm with Max that you’re each composed enough, giving him one last glance as you step out.
You feel fingertips against the small of your back, almost like he wants one last point of contact with you before you have to go back to the real world.
And what you both step into is a sea of chaos, the lobby now bustling with people needing their various morning addictions, and you cast Audrey and Vincent an apologetic glance as you rush over to assist them.
God, you really need a cigarette and a stiff drink.
They pass each other a look when they see you and Max coming out of the bathroom together and you inwardly sigh because you had hoped you could keep all of this on the down low. Well, that plan was pretty much out the window now. And there was no saving it.
Max stands to one side and waits patiently as you rush through making his drink, passing it to him when you’re done and your skin burning as you feel his gaze dwelling on you one last time before he dips out for the day.
The rush stays steady for about an hour and you’re actually kind of thankful for it, as it helps to keep your focus off of everything that’s happened recently.
——
You’re walking home when your phone buzzes with a new text.
You take in a breath and fish your phone from your purse, hoping it isn’t your mother. Wishing it isn’t her. She had already texted you earlier that day to let you know Garrett was out of jail, no thanks to you, and you made a point of ignoring it.
You expect another dramatic text from your mother as you’re opening your phone, but you’re relieved to see it’s from Dave this time, thank god.
You open the text to see an image of Dave crouched down in front of the jaws of a rather large shark, Alice perched on his knee and Mollie standing to one side, all three of them smiling for the camera. You try not to let the sweetness and normalcy of it affect you, and you can hardly believe that this is the same man who had practically broke you and stitched you back together multiple times.
You: looks fun
A few minutes later you receive more texts, popping up as you get close to your apartment’s wifi. The first is a video of the girls in front of a shark tank, babbling at a nurse shark, and then a second video of a reef shark swimming overhead in a tunnel, with the caption: sharks for you
You: Cool. I love them! See any sea otters?
Dave: no 🙁 But we saw penguins! 😍
You cover your mouth with your hand as you snicker at his reply, typing in a quick response.
You: Penguins? How feminine.
Dave: Okay smartass
You: Just dishing out some of what you were serving last night, Dave
Dave: Watch it, sweetheart, or you’ll really see what I can dish out when I get home
You: Promise? 😜
As you enter your apartment building and Dave texts back with I would love nothing more, you try to keep reminding yourself you aren’t falling for him.
——
With the girls dropped off safely with Carol, at the house which is still in his name, that he still pays for, Dave shoots you a quick text before pulling away.
Dave: I’ll be back in town in a day or two. I have a work thing
He fishes out a burner phone and punches in the address for your ex, Jonathan, who lives on Long Island. Which is good — perfect, really — as it’s en route back to Boston. A quick rendezvous there to take him out and then straight home. Or what he could consider his home, nowadays.
You make it feel like home to him.
The hit shouldn’t take long. It was an ideal situation, if he was being honest. The woman Jonathan had left you for had pulled the same trick on him as he had on you, leaving him high and dry after he had up and moved states, and now he lived alone in a small garage apartment at the back of a property that was flanked on all sides by woods.
Perfect.
He would be arriving long after nightfall, and he would bide his time in the woods until it was late enough to slip in and out undetected.
Dave did not care that Jonathan really wasn’t a bad person, aside from being the asshole who broke your heart. He couldn’t give two shits, really. He only wanted to take retribution for Jonathan’s slights against you, on your behalf, because you were too kind and gentle to do it yourself.
As he pulls onto the highway to begin his journey north, he can’t get your beautiful face out of his mind.
——
It turns out Jonathan is a night owl.
Dave has been in the trees at the perimeter of the property for hours. A single window at the back of the apartment shines a pale yellow, denoting lingering wakefulness from his mark. It’s the only available illumination aside from a lone street lamp near the front of the property.
And aside from his phone. He’s been watching you off and on all night, to pass the time. You’re alone, and have been for days now. You haven’t had Max — or anyone else for that matter — in your bed since the last encounter, which means you stopped seeing Max entirely or you had simply taken to fucking elsewhere. Max’s apartment?
He isn’t sure which, yet.
Currently, Jonathan is getting stoned and painting. Dave is far from being an art expert, but even from his vantage he can see the strokes on the canvas are broad and messy; calling it abstract would be a stretch. Infantile, maybe. He couldn’t have been the artist of the painting you have hanging in your apartment—the style and technique just wasn’t right.
He wonders, not for the first time, if you were a gifted artist as well as being a gifted writer.
Jonathan orders a pizza at 9:09 PM and it’s delivered at exactly 10:00 PM. He spends an hour eating, his motor skills slowed due to being so fried, attempting to masturbate after that — much to Dave’s abject disgust — gives up, and goes back to painting.
Dave can feel his patience growing thinner by the second. You’ve already retired to bed so he no longer has anything to occupy his mind as he waits. He would prefer to strike while Jonathan is sleeping, but it’s either now or never; anything close to daybreak would be too risky.
Given up on being discreet, he slinks like a cat out of the woods at around 12:30 AM, head on a constant swivel, gun holstered at his hip in case he needs it. He’s hoping he doesn’t.
He’s opted for the more difficult to trace route as the actual means of execution — a syringe with 100mg of potassium chloride, the same drug used in prisons — tucked away neatly in the pocket of his black hoodie.
The nearer Dave draws to the apartment, the louder the indie rock music Jonathan is blaring becomes, a band Dave doesn’t recognize. That’s a good thing, though, it will work in his favor when he picks the lock at the front of the building, arguably the riskiest part of this entire mission, due to its proximity to the street.
He reaches the second story landing and pulls his lock picking kit from said hoodie, adjusting the black beanie away from his eyes as he finds the right tools. He manipulates them into the lock, ear pressed to the thin door so he can better hear what he’s doing.
The music continues, and so far as Dave can tell, he hasn’t been detected.
He pops the lock within minutes and the door slowly shimmies open, his hand going to his hip on instinct as he pushes the door the rest of the way with the toe of his boot.
He’s met with a short entryway that veers off to a dimly lit living room. So far, Jonathan hasn’t noticed him. He’s on another planet entirely—exactly where Dave wants him. Thank god for brain altering substances.
Dave stalks forward and soon arrives at the opening of the main living space which is littered with various articles of trash and other clutter, skillfully dodging as much as he can so as to not alert his presence, or give detectives anything to go on.
What he finds is Jonathan hunched in front of a canvas, paintbrush perched between nimble fingers, painting god knows what, because Dave sure can’t tell, his back facing him. The sheer abundance of luck at his mark being in such a vulnerable and unawares position is so goddamn sexy Dave can hardly keep his dick in check at the presentation.
But even with Jonathan being as preoccupied as he is, it would be imprudent to dawdle, so he doesn’t.
He quickly closes the space between the two of them, one arm coiling like a large python around Jonathan’s throat and the other disabling his limbs.
Jonathan looses a low bellow, most of which is drowned out by the music and the reduced flow of oxygen to his lungs, nearly knocking over the easel the canvas sits on in his rush of panic, but thankfully does not. In Dave’s experience working cases for the CIA, signs of struggle are often harder to hide than one would think.
He attempts to fight back, body trying to twist away, but Dave is larger, stronger and more experienced in disarming than Jonathan is in fighting…well, anything…so it isn’t as difficult as Dave had feared it would be.
It isn’t exactly a cake walk either, and Dave knows he needs to get him to the ground as soon as possible to fully disable him, arm tightening around Jonathan’s throat as he wrestles the smaller man to the floor. He puts Jonathan in a sleeper hold, adding a second arm for leverage and bringing a leg up to ensnare his lower half.
“Just let it happen. Let it happen and it will be easier,” Dave grits against the shell of his ear. “Don’t fight me.”
He doesn’t listen, of course, hellbent on breaking the grapple, and failing. That pesky self preservation always did aggravate Dave as much as it excited him.
Jonathan’s vision starts to blot away, music fading to a low and persistent hum, his body finally giving in to the asphyxiation now that the adrenaline was a fleeting thing.
This is exactly what Dave needed to happen, and as he feels Jonathan’s body growing slack in his clutches, he removes the syringe from his pocket, biting the lid off and grasping it between his teeth as he readies the needle.
It isn’t hard to find a vein due to Jonathan’s heightened sense of agitation and panic, inserting the needle into the soft flesh of his neck and sinking the plunger before he can struggle away, flooding his bloodstream with the full dose of potassium chloride.
Within moments, attempts to free himself devolve to little more than faint body tremors, and Dave doesn’t release him until his body has fallen completely motionless and limp in his arms.
He checks Jonathan’s pulse a moment later and when he’s satisfied he’s gone, he drags the corpse to the recliner on the opposite end of the room, manipulating him into a position that makes it appear as if Jonathan succumbed to cardiac arrest.
Once done, he finds Jonathan’s cellphone and begins to thumb through the recent calls and text messages.
He finds you in there, as well as a string of messages to you begging your forgiveness and for your return, which have gone wholly unanswered by you. Dave smiles to himself. You must have blocked him after the breakup. Good.
He knows there’s a very real chance cops will question you regardless. But Dave decides to delete the messages and any other snippet of information he can find about you in Jonathan’s phone anyway, just to be safe.
As he repockets the empty syringe, he gives the room a final comb to ensure that not even a hair is out of place. When he determines everything is satisfactory, and that he hasn’t left behind any evidence or traces of DNA, he turns to make a hasty retreat.
He leaves the apartment exactly as he found it, making sure to lock the door behind him, leaving nothing out of place, no loose ends unraveled.
He jogs down the stairs and makes the mile long trek through the woods to return to where his car is parked, working up a sweat even with the cooler air but not at all concerned about it, pulling the beanie off and tossing it to the passenger floorboard when he finally makes it to the car.
Palming himself through his dark jeans, he pulls onto the road, with you being the only thing on his mind as he begins the arduous six hour journey home to see you. You.
And he can barely fucking wait.
——
Taglist: @ohheypedrito @kateispunk @awilderi @survivingandenduring @heavennumber2 @alwaysmicado @oberynslady @kellybelly1978 @cosmic-li @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept @annieispunk @xxjigglynatxx @daddy-dins-girl @onmysluttyknees @guelyury @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @yorksgirl @shotgun-shelby
Please let me know if I forgot you, it wasn’t intentional 🥺
💜💜💜
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“Naomi,” Tech said as Omega let go of him, and he turned to the Belter officer, “Omega is the only sister I have ever known…but I wish you had been mine. Perhaps I would process moments and thoughts differently, had I had you before.”
“Teki, you are yourself, and that is a fine thing to be. Besides, there is no reason I cannot be, after this, beratna ,” Naomi said.
- Tikkun Olam, Part 2, Far Past the Ring
———————-
Thanksgiving, for many people, is about family. So I’m posting this picture today. I loved drawing it and I hope it makes you smile.
Omega is in adjusted MCRN gear, FYI. They’re about to go into battle, and she’s having second thoughts.
Obviously, Tech is not related to Naomi at all. And first writing them out made me think they’d be competitive and mean with each other, as they’re both brilliant and used to being the smartest person in the room.
But Tech’s too relaxed and self assured to get out of bounds like that. And Naomi? She’s a sweetie, inclusive and kind. She’d never get mean or snappy over someone being her equal.
They’d have a mutual connection and grow from each other, which would turn into protection and friendship. Brother and sister. And that’s lovely.
Now back to this stupid cranberry sauce and my BIL rambling about Bitcoin.
@amorfista @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @moosethren @marymunchkiin @merkitty49 @wrenkenstein @techs-stitches @ilikemymendarkandfictional @isthereanechoinhere96 @rocicrew @eclec-tech @eelfuneral @littlefeatherr @deezlees @shadestepping @anxiouspineapple99 @vivaislenska @verygoateebeard @vimse @nika6q @thecoffeelorian @theexpanse
#tbb#cloneforce99#thebadbatch#the expanse#theexpanse#belter#fanfiction#starwarsfanfiction#the bad batch#tech#omega tbb#omega bad batch#tech bad batch#clone trooper tech#tech fanfiction#tech star wars#siblings#star wars fanart#star wars crossover#naomi nagata#crossover the expanse#the expanse fanfiction#the expanse fan art
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About that inflation ask:
Ok but Hob as a kink creator too, what does he do? What's his specialty?
I'm thinking Dream is one of those super popular creators and he's got crazy high standards and never does collabs with anyone, so of course Hob doesn't DARE ask, even though he's pretty popular himself. But Dream is secretly wishing he does, because of course he's not going to be the one to reach out first to ask for a Collab, right? Even though he's watched every one of Hob's videos at least 3 times. He's not going to just ask him to do something together. Or is he???
-ps may I request this emoji🌛
Well since two of you want to know... I am cracking my knuckles and getting into this, ok.
I'm very attached to my Bear!Hob agenda, so I'm thinking that's his niche. Gentle dom videos, sexy photo sets, occasional tummy pics... he is widely admired for his lovely body hair and his friendly attitude - despite being a pretty big creator, top 3% on OF kind of thing, he always interacts with his fans.
He and Dream only overlap slightly in the fetish world because Hob occasionally indulges his own kinks and does a feeding video or two. It isn't his main niche, but he gets a lot of traction whenever he does it. He's got a longterm collab going with a creator called Desire who very much likes to tie him up and feed him desserts until he can't breathe. It's sexy, Desire is a very good fuck, and Hob likes dessert and being full. What's not to love?
Dream starts "hatewatching" these videos because Desire is his main rival... that's what he's telling himself anyway. Secretly Dream is drooling over the sight of Hob and his lovely soft skin and thick belly hair. Dream wants to be the one perched on top of Hob’s lap. But there's no way he's going to reach out - absolutely not.
Dream is a Big Name. He only does videos for his own pleasure these days, but they always absolutely blow up (hah hah). There's something about skinny, pale little Dream bloating himself up with air or water (or very memorably, coke and mentos) that drives a certain side of the internet insane.
Hob is on that side of the internet, by the way. Nobody look at his search history. The Dream coke and mentos video is at the top of his bookmarks.
So anyway it turns out that Desire is capable of being nice - they schedule a filming day with Hob, and then oh no!!! they're sick!!!! And they message Dream on Instagram practically begging him to step in. For Hob’s sake.
It's awkward, because of course it is. Hob is so nervous he can't stop talking, Dream is so nervous he can't say a single word. Hob ends up stress eating a bunch of snacks while Dream is chugging down all the free bottles of sparkling water and suddenly... they can't keep their hands off each other.
The amateur-style video is posted a week later and goes viral with people who like that kind of thing. There's something about Dream straddling Hob’s lap, rubbing his little swollen belly against Hob (who is equally if not more full, though it doesn't show quite as much) that makes everyone feral. The shot of Dream coming over Hob’s belly definitely circulates for a while.
(Yes, they go for dinner afterwards. And make out in the taxi after that. Mutual belly rubs are assured. Dating is pretty much inevitable.)
#🌛 anon#the sandman#dreamling#nsft#cw feederism#ish#the temptation to write this as fic is so strong. we deserve more slightly weird kink in this fandom.#shirt that says talk to me about my dreamling belly kink concepts
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Marry me
Izzy Hands x Male Reader (Established Relationship, Both Aromantic Asexual)
Contains a small appearance from Lucius Spriggs.
Summary: As a minor lord, you are expected to marry well. But on your birthday celebrations, you confirm that there was only ever one man in your life that you could marry.
No trigger warnings, just lots of fluff and a marriage proposal thrown in.
Word count: 1,432
Fic link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51726328
You stand on a balcony overlooking the gardens at the back of the manor house. The evening has well and truly set in, the fireflies are dancing merrily to a tune of their own making. Behind you is another kind of tune, one strung for your own birthday celebrations.
But you would rather be out here than be inside with the rest of your friends and half the nobles of outlying lands. Celebrating your birthday lavishly has never been your style, but it wouldn't do to have a quiet party with some cake. So you stand out here, thinking.
Another reason why you don't want to be inside is the other main reason for the party: you are expected to make a proposal of marriage tonight.
Your years have crept on, and you have firmly held on to the idea of being single and not marrying for convenience. There has only ever been one man that has caught your eye, and that man is your knight of thorns.
Izzy Hands.
He is the man you live for seeing day to day, the one that constantly walks by your side during daylight hours and takes to your bed during the twilight ones. Yours is a love born of a long friendship and years of mutual trust and respect culminating in a love so tender it makes both of you feel constantly warm. If you were ever going to marry someone, it would be him.
A lord and his husband, doing what they could for the common people and not giving a damn about lineages and gossipy rumours. It sounded divine.
You and Izzy had talked about marriage, about how that might look for you both. You had assured him that if he wanted he could still be your gallant knight as well as your husband, leaving all of the things that you were good at in your safe hands. In the end, Izzy had said that he would just want both of you to be happy, and he would be happy being with you for the rest of your life.
That was all you really wanted too. To never be parted. Izzy would never leave willingly, and you never planned on Izzy needing to leave.
"My lord", you heard a voice call out from behind you. You grinned as you turned to see your knight of thorns, resplendent in his dark armour.
"Izzy."
He instantly looked more relaxed upon seeing you, though he still kept his hand on the pommel of his sword.
"Couldn't stand the gossip circles for much longer, huh?", He asked gently as he came to stand beside you, resting his arms on the decorative wall in front of him.
You shook your head, shooting him a furtive glance.
"Not when the main topic was my future nuptials, no."
Izzy sighed next to you, although it came out as more of a growl. His face was awash with sympathy, as well as a little bit of jealousy thrown in.
"Don't they have anything better to talk about? We're meant to be celebrating you, after all."
You smiled, grateful for Izzy thinking of the smaller picture when all the nobles could see was the landscape. You looped your arm through the crook of his, silently leaning against him and letting him take some of your weight.
"Not even the latest pastries out of Treemede could tempt them. Absolute cretins."
Izzy laughed fondly, gently pushing against you to bring you closer together. You started laughing too, taking solace in the fact that you felt like laughing at all. Oh, Izzy. He really did have a beautiful laugh.
"Are they expecting an answer this evening?", Izzy asked, tone back to serious again. You looked into his eyes and saw curiosity there as well as a bit of fear. Fear of change was something you both shared in equal measure.
You nodded, looking back out to the distant horizon for a moment.
"I won't give it unthinkingly, though."
You felt fingertips graze your chin, and allowed your face to be turned back towards your loyal knight. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw how much love was pouring out of Izzy's expression, his very being. Fuck, sometimes you felt like you didn't deserve him.
"Whatever you decide, I will always be here. They'll have to drag me out of your hall kicking and screaming."
He smiled a little wickedly but fondly.
"Not that you would let them, I know. I'd glower down whoever tried to take you away from me."
You smiled, a true honest smile. You loved him so very, very, very much.
And that in turn was what gave you the answer you sought. Perhaps what had been staring you straight in the face since Izzy came onto the balcony.
Izzy was what mattered most, always. Izzy was who you would always want, forever more. Nobles would come and go and so would your advisors if they disliked your decision. But Izzy would be with you until the end of both of your lives.
Izzy Hands was the answer. Now was the time.
"I won't let anyone take you away from me", you said firmly, turning to face Izzy fully. Now you cupped his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over his cheekbones.
"If you would let me, I would want to marry you, just as we have always talked about."
Izzy's eyebrows shot up, but not in anything resembling shock. Maybe it was a surprise in that it had taken them both this long to make the final move.
"Marry me and you can remain my man at arms, but also be my husband and take my name. The lineage of this house can stop here, just as it should do. After we are gone, nature can reclaim this house for all I care. Love conquers all, not treaties and alliances."
Izzy Hands was smiling so proudly as he listened to your words, and his lovely, wonderful eyes also began to cloud over with tears.
"So, what do you say?", You murmured sweetly, brushing away the first few tears to fall.
Izzy breathed out in a loving sigh, hands coming to rest on your hips.
"I would love that more than anything."
You couldn't help the very loud cry of joy that came out of your mouth, and even Izzy laughed loudly with joy. In a move that robbed you of your breath, Izzy linked his arms at your back and picked you up, twirling you round in slow circles. You clung on for dear life, now laughing merrily too as the world spun in magical colours. When Izzy put you down the pair of you were breathless, drunk on love.
"God, I love you", you whispered as you leant in and pressed your foreheads together, needing to touch Izzy somewhere.
"I love you", Izzy whispered back, firm and wondrous in your arms.
As you both stood there, too absorbed in each other to notice the rest of the world around you, one of your firm friends walked out onto the balcony and found you wrapped up in each other.
"My lord!", Lucius called, sending you a furtive but kind glance as you and Izzy turned to look at the man without parting from each other. What was secrecy now when a marriage had been struck?
"Yes?"
"The assembled masses await your speech, my lord. I'd give them what they want before they start eating each other", Lucius muttered, rolling his eyes.
You laugh, trying to stop yourself from snorting but fail miserably.
"Chance would be a fine thing", Izzy added, and that only made you laugh harder.
"Damn you both", you scoff as Izzy pats you on the back to calm you down. Lucius raises an eyebrow and stands there waiting until you have the wherewithal to speak.
"They might not like what I have to say, but they are going to put up with it", you say firmly to Lucius as you feel Izzy take your hand next to you.
Lucius looks between you and Izzy and the joined hands between you and his other eyebrow leapt up to join the first.
"Oh, this is going to be delicious!", he cried, clapping his hands together. "I was wondering when you would finally get there."
"Better late than never", Izzy remarked, squeezing your hand. You turn to him and nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Indeed."
You turned back to Lucius, motioning for him to open the doors to the hall again.
"Time to face the music."
#izzy hands#izzy fucking hands#izzy hands era#izzy hands our flag means death#our flag means death#izzy hands x reader#izzy hands x male reader#ace aro izzy hands#aro ace izzy hands#erebus adjacent writes izzy hands
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Headcanon: How will they react if you tell them about CDD? (Pedro Pascal characters) 👰💔😱🤕
I accidentally found a website about CDD (Christian Domestic Discipline) and I read a few fragments of articles by a certain moron. And I don't know what scared me more. Lack of basic respect and love for wife. Spanking is a form of punishment to correct the wife's behavior. Or the fact that the wife is always supposed to be willing and obey commands like "kneel" and willingly take his cock in her mouth... 🤢 🤮 I just felt sick (like someone punched me in the stomach) and I needed some therapy, so I went to my "Pedro's boys' comfort zone".
Joel Miller:
Joel is shaking with anger. He clenches his jaw and fists. It's not just about you, but also about Sarah. His blood boils at the thought that his beloved daughter's future husband could be such an idiot as this Christians perverts. Joel feels like breaking something. He'd break that dick's hands if he even tried to touch his daughter.
Then he looks at you in shock and asks, almost pleadingly, "Tell me you don't believe this nonsense? That you would never want me to treat you this way... I'm your husband, not some fucking medieval pastor!"
So of course you assure him that you would never want that. You like the fact that Joel is sometimes dominant, that he is decisive, but... At the same time, you know that you can do what you want. Joel would never take away your right to be yourself.
Joel confirms all this. You are his Princess. He knows he's grumpy sometimes. He doesn't like it when you do something he thinks is unwise, but he would never dare punish you for it.
He has great respect for you. You are the woman who takes care of him, the house, and the children. And if you feel like having a little fun sometimes... If you don't make him dinner, or you oppose him, Joel will accept it with humility. He will wait it out because he knows that in the end, you will always be a married couple full of love and mutual respect.
Javier Peña:
Javier thinks you're joking at first. You must be joking, right? These are some erotic fantasies, not the truth...
When he realizes that some men actually see their wives this way, he is disgusted.
He always respected women, even those he paid for sex. He wouldn't force any of them to do anything.
Would he be able to force you, his beloved wife, to do anything?
He knows perfectly well that he is not a saint. He has many "sins" on his conscience. How the hell would he be the one to correct your behavior? Who would give him the right to do that?
He sees spanking only as a form of short play during sex (with mutual consent).
But as a punishment? Hell no!
He would never stand up to you. He treats you as an equal... In fact, he even thinks that he is the second in the marriage. He often thinks that he doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve your patience and care.
And if you get angry at him if you oppose him... You're probably right.
To him, these "Christians" treat their wives like slaves. He is disgusted by them.
And as for kneeling... He's the one who will kneel in front of you and make you scream with pleasure with his mouth.
Marcus Pike:
Marcus gets angry and raises his voice saying, "What fucking nonsense?! How can these morons treat their wives like this?! Don't they even have one brain cell?!"
You're really surprised by his outburst of anger, which obviously isn't directed at you, but it's still surprising that your sweet and calm husband could get so angry.
But that's because for Marcus, marriage is sacred, but not in a religious way... You are his wife, the woman who fixed his broken heart.
You gave yourself completely to him, not because he forced you to do it... He would rather shoot himself in the head than force any woman to do anything.
You gave yourself to him because you wanted it because you found him worthy.
That's why Marcus is ready to kiss the ground you walk on.
You are his calm, warm, and safe place. Your kisses calm him down.
So Marcus can't imagine himself raising a hand against you. Punish you? Treat you like a child or someone less than him? He can't imagine how he could take away your right to decide about yourself.
He's seen a lot of horrible things in his job, but this... It's really high on his list of disgusting things.
He can't stop thinking about these men calling themselves Christians...
Only your light kisses on his face calm him down. He also kisses you sweetly, assuring you that he will never be such a husband because you are wonderful to him. You are his soulmate.
But Marcus doesn't have to tell you that, you already know it.
Agent Whiskey:
When you tell him you found some nonsense on the Internet, Whiskey expects some funny nonsense. You always find them and you always laugh together.
He didn't expect that this "nonsense" would turn out to be some fucking bullshit that made him feel sick.
He feels disgusted, irritated, and angry at these men who call themselves Christians and do something that, in his opinion, has nothing to do with Christian love.
Sure, he likes to spank you, he likes to mark your ass. He's a territorial guy, but... For God's sake, you're his Sugar, his wonderful wife. He never spanks you without your explicit permission, and of course, he doesn't do it to punish you. He doesn't treat you like his property.
Jack loves you like he thinks any decent man should love his wife. You are his queen. He will never force you to do anything. In fact, your simple "no" would be enough to immediately remind him where the boundaries are.
He wants your marriage to be full of love, comfort, mutual understanding, and trust. He hugs you protectively and says:
"I never want to treat you like this and take advantage of you. I want us to be equals, lovers, best friends, and partners. But these men practicing Christian domestic discipline do not love their wives, they want control and domination over their wives. And the Bible quotes they use are probably taken out of context just to justify their own pathetic actions.”
Then he showers you with kisses and spoils you even more than usual throughout the day. This is the only way he can get rid of the thought that men who don't know manners have the nerve to walk around the ground his Sugar walks on.
Javi G:
If you want to give Javi a mental breakdown, then go ahead... But in general, yes, you will cause him to have a mental breakdown if you tell him about it. (So think carefully about it.)
The poor puppy will take a year to recover.
At first, Javi won't understand at all what you're telling him. "Is this a script from some crazy movie? Really distasteful."
When he realizes it's true, he still won't understand it.
Obedience? Duties? Humility?
Since you became his wife, Javi's only goal is to make you enjoy life, not fulfill some marital obligations.
You, according to him, have no obligations. Unless you consider laughing as an obligation. Because that's all Javi wants: to hear you laugh.
And raise a hand to you?! Javi wouldn't even do that in erotic play. He just can't. Just the thought of him intentionally hurting you brings tears to his eyes.
Once he accidentally hit you with the door when, as usual, he was leaving the room too vigorously and you were just about to go inside. Nothing serious happened to you. He punched you in the shoulder.
When he saw your red skin, he panicked. He kissed your shoulder and apologized over and over again. He felt like a husband abusing his wife. He even begged you not to divorce him.
It was downright funny for you. How could you divorce him for such a reason?
You calmly assured him that you were fine. But he still insisted on calling a doctor, who, of course, said there was nothing wrong with you and recommended applying a cold compress.
Javi, of course, obediently followed the doctor's orders.
And in the evening he would cuddle you on the couch while watching "Paddington 2" with you. But for the first time, while he watching this movie, he wasn't paying attention to the screen. Instead, he would glance at you, at your shoulder, and every now and then he would place a sweet, gentle kiss on your shoulder.
Oberyn:
Oberyn is shocked and disgusted when you tell him about the existence of a new sect in Westeros that practices domestic discipline.
Dorne is a land of great respect for women. In Dorne, from the very beginning, the oldest child sits on the throne, regardless of gender. Subjects respect princesses as much as they respect princes. According to the Dornish people, the dick between the legs doesn't matter when it comes to ruling.
Dorne is also the land of love. Even children here rarely get spanked. Most of the time, their parents let them run happily in the Dornish sun and splash in the fountains.
That's why what you say is a shock to him.
Would he treat you, his wife, this way? You are his Queen.
Yes, he is the Prince of Dorne, head of House Martell, but he has nothing against your desire to rule or dominate. And he's not going to correct your behavior. That's not what he is for.
Besides, why would he waste his time on something so nonsensical when he can spend his time making love to you?
Oberyn believes that he is created to satisfy your desires. To carry you in his arms and be your shield and spear if necessary.
He doesn't have to force you to do anything either. He is persuasive enough for you to always agree with him. What if you didn't agree?
He will respect that. He is a man of honor and will tell you:
“This is what the love of my life deserves… Always being there for her, always supporting her, always protecting her… My love… I can't always be in charge… I'm glad you feel comfortable enough around me to express your thoughts out loud. Because we are not just husband and wife. We are also friends and equal partners united by love.”
#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal headcanon#joel miller#joel miller headcanon#the last of us#joel miller x you#javier pena headcanon#narcos#javier peña#javier pena and you#marcus pike#marcus pike headcanon#marcus pike and you#the mentalist#agent whiskey#jack daniels#jack daniels headcanon#jack daniels and you#kingsman the golden circle#javi gutierrez#javi guitieres headcanon#javi g and you#the unbearable weight of massive talent#oberyn martell#oberyn martell headcanon#oberyn and you#game of thrones#CDD#christians husband#abusive!
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sfw + nsfw headcanons
content warning (s): mature language - mention of asphyxiation - spitting - biting - exhibitionism - overstimulation - oral sex (fem receiving) - daddy kink - hand kink - breeding - unprotected sex - corruption - slight slapping - hard dom! porco
pairing: porco galliard x fem!reader
word count: 2.6k
a/n: i wanted to use this as a prep for my lifeguard! porco for @taixju summer collab (x) but that will be 100% dirtier and filthy. I have been having brainrot of him since he’s been animated *screech* i wanted to write more but you get the gist
banner credit: made it myself but porco fanart artist creds to @/KinNiku_OishiiZ on twitter
masterlist | requests | join my tag-list
✯ Porco isn't much for relationships and mostly plays around with others; however, all of his morals did a whole 360 once you stepped into his life.
✯ Very much a cocky, stuck-up man, and knows what exactly to make one fluster but doesn't know how to react when someone can actually deal with his bullshit.
✯ He is attracted to confident women who are assured of themselves, he does have a soft spot for shy girls because he knows just what to say to make them stutter.
✯ Porco is a hard worker and down bad for a hard-working woman because he knows if they want something, they will do anything to achieve that.
✯ Gives you cute pet names/classic ones like doll, darling, baby, bubs, love, honey, sweets, and amor.
✯ Porco comes from an Italian family, plain and simple. An Italian man with hints of his Italian accent.
✯ Although Porco has a mean facade towards everyone, he is a real sweetheart and kind human being, and that's what attracted you to him. He can be an angry and grumpy bean, he still cares and loves in his weird unique way, especially the ones he cares for deeply.
✯ He knows when something is wrong with you and wants to get down to what the problem is, he is always there for you and up for a vent if you need one.
✯ Porco knows you can overwork and pile much on your shoulders, so he does his part. If that may be acts of service or just being there, he always manages to always keep a smile on your face; it is what he loves most about you.
✯ Porco is your best friend in one and KNOWS you better than yourself; he is your equal and brings out the best in you.
✯ Porco bullied others for being romantic to their significant others but he really is a secret sweet tooth romantic and anything that is cheesy, already has it planned.
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✯ Definitely would be very cocky and stuck up around you because of his crush on you, thinking it would go in a good direction because he has no brains and doesn't think before he acts. He is much rather surprised to see you snap back at him with each comment or rather how you ignore him.
✯ Each passing day, he notices how he's always looking for you, waiting to see what you’ll say back or the annoying side looks you give him that he finds oh so cute.
✯ After finally getting the guts to ask you out, Porco would be the one to go out of his way to coordinate dates like visiting parks, cafes, museums, and different bookstores to check out on each date. He is a very big bookworm but you didn't know that until your third date. so we already know he will want to visit every possible local bookstore with you.
✯ He was the first to say “I love you”, and it did take some time for him. He wanted to be sure of himself because he knew you were, he was mesmerized at how beautiful you looked with the warm lights reflecting off of you, as you read together in his bedroom so caught up in the moment, he mumbled “I love you.” catching you a bit off guard but you always knew you loved him from the first stupid comment he made when you first met. Returning the mutual feeling made him push up his reading glasses to poorly hide his crimson shade cheeks.
✯ Book reading dates are something special because you and Porco both have a mutual love for books, no matter the genre or length they can be, that’s why he’s the best to have as a book buddy. He would ensure he had all the annotating supplies ready, even going as far as getting your favorite latte or drink before coming over.
✯ He loves to see your facial expressions while you read, the little giggles you let out make his heart flutter, pausing his reading; Porco really does love your smile. The way he feels all warm inside because he falls for you all over again as if he isn’t already.
✯ Porco was interested in these "spicy" books you talked about because you frequently get flustered which led you to get up and "take a lap", so he read along with you. He wants to get in on the action too
✯ Sometimes the dates can get steamy, blame the erotic books you buddy read together, but you nudge him on and leave him to always say, “why don't we recreate this scene ourselves rather than reading it?”; it was way better experiencing it than reading.
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✯ OVERLY handsy person, he will find any opportunity to have his hands on you; placing his hand into your back pocket, basically cupping your ass, hooking his finger onto your beltline, and wrapping his arms around your waist
✯ Hugs from him are just the best, although Porco is the size of fucking Mount Everest, the way his body fits perfectly into yours. Hugs from behind would be his signature move, he loves to hear you yelp in surprise and nudge your butt back into him while placing his chin on top of your head.
✯ Porco is the most loudly jealous person, but his actions would speak louder than words. If there are a group of guys eyeing you down, he places his arm around your waist and brings you in to trace his long finger over your lips, no kiss is needed. You know exactly what he was trying to do, make it loud and clear your his.
✯ As mentioned before, Porco loves having his hands on you, sometimes being a little too excessive but you love the feeling of his large calloused hands on the low of your back.
✯ Porco loves your hands, although you hate them, he loves the soft and warmness it gives him. Your hands are much smaller compared to his but he loves how delicate they look in his.
✯ He DEFINITELY buys you rings just to fidget with them when you hold hands
✯ Porco notices the small glances you give his large hands and fingers so he messages pictures of his veiny hands and arms post-workout; queue mutual hand kinks
✯ When you would be feeling down or not yourself, Porco knows just what to do to help make you feel better. If you didn't want to talk about it, he would just hold you close to him to let you know that he is there for you.
✯ Cuddling would be the best because he is like a giant human furnace, there is no blanket needed but sometimes you do need to push him away causing him to whine.
✯ Porco has been with many girls, there are no questions about that, but he very much is careful and worships you. He reassures your insecurities, as there is really nothing to be insecure about, and very much praises your whole body, all the imperfections you see are perfect to him. He has never felt this way about anyone and he holds that dear to him, there is nobody like the way you smile, smell, and soft finger trances you leave behind on his skin, which is what makes you special.
✯ He loves to trace his fingers over your stretch marks, connect the dots with the freckles on your body, and caress your tummy. Simply would love to have his head on your chest to hear the way your heart beats and soft breathing.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
✯ Porco was a very much well-known manwhore before meeting you, he knows how to please a woman and what makes them quiver under his touch.
✯ Porco’s cock is a little above average his ego is crumbling, quite beefy, and has a very good girth to it. He likes to keep it trimmed and not completely shaven but has a light happy trail.
✯ Although he may have a little above average dick, Porco knows how to give you a proper fuck, and have you creaming on his cock.
✯ Porco was a nervous bitch in the beginning with you. He wanted to make sure he was making you feel good, he gets more aroused when he knows he’s pleasuring you; however, he has never easily gotten a hard-on just from a simple makeout sesh nor had a woman that can keep up with him.
✯ Just having you make out on top of him while grinding against his cock would make him drip precum. The sounds of your pretty moans against his mouth, and the way you tug on his undercut literally will make him combust.
✯ Porco has never had a woman make him easily come undone but he swears you have something, also don't moan too hot or he’ll rip all your clothes off but he knows you love that oh so much.
✯ Porco is very much handsy during book reading dates and will have you sit in between his legs, fingering you, while you read your erotic book. Hearing your soft pants and heavy breathing as you try to concentrate. He loves watching you struggle so he bites on your ear lobe to make it even better for him.
✯ Porco has many kinks: degradation, praise kink, hair pulling, dirty talk, choking, asphyxiation, spitting, spanking, biting, exhibitionism, overstimulation, and pet names like sweet girl, pretty girl, baby. He loves it when he is in control and call him sir, or especially daddy.
✯ Porco never really had the thought of breeding or corruption until you. The way you sweet-talked the kids in your family or how you bit back at his snarky comments, giving a pressing hard-on in his pants that you could only relieve.
✯ Porco can be a soft dom when he wants to be a little soft and delicate with you; however, he is a very much hard dom. When fucking you, he holds your face making you passionately look into your eyes and feeling your hot moans in his mouth. He can be a little too invested in you and grab you by the neck slightly choking, but you give devilish smile, such a dirty slut for his cock you are.
✯ Always asks for consent no matter how long you’ve been together, he wants to make sure you feel comfortable and safe; you are what matters most, he could care less about himself. Your pleasure is important so you will always be put first.
✯ Going into what matters most, he will absolutely make sure you have all the orgasms first, ensuring what he’s doing is good and asking if you like it. He can tell you love it when he feels you squeeze around him. That's how he found out you loved letting him spit in your mouth.
✯ After finding your spit kink, he loves how dirty you were so he would grab your throat in any environment, always catching you by surprise and using it as an opportunity to spit in your mouth. He knows you're dripping wet by the time you get home or in the car. You did fuck like dogs in the car after he did that in front of Jean, he is very much territorial.
✯ He knows your body, everything, he quickly catches on to the things that make you moan and whimper. Definitely keeping a mental note to ensure his do’s and don’ts.
✯ What Porco lives for is you riding him. He loves the look on your fucked out face, eyes rolling back, telling him to go faster and deeper. He loves giving you light slaps across your face, as he tells you to beg for it. When picking up the pace, he will grab onto your neck and squeeze to make your face crimson red; only making you focus on his hard fast cock ramming into your cunt.
✯ Another thing Porco loves is to eat you out and his mouth does fucking god wonders. He loves the fact his tongue is making you whimper and moan and enjoys overstimulating you after you’ve cum all over his mouth. He loves to have his fingers inside you while he licks your sensitive clit and brings his long calloused fingers to have you taste your sweet slick.
✯ Sometimes you need to smack that man like you’re tagging out but that only makes him hold you down by grabbing your neck. He is just addicted to the sweet taste you leave in his mouth.
✯ High key loves your tits cause that’s his thing I don’t make the rules. Once he saw you lean over and saw your cleavage that was his limit. Squeezes your tits hard just to hear you yelp but religiously worships them. Your thighs are another thing, his dick twitches to you squeezing his head as he made you cum on his tongue.
✯ Lovemaking isn't his fortay but he’ll do so if he wants to show his love for you. When he is highly stressed, he will be extremely rough. During or after, he’ll ask if you’re okay and if he’s hurting you; Porco gives the best and most amazing aftercare.
✯ This man is super strong, super strong to where he can hold you against walls and hold you up while he fucks you, but loves to fuck you like a rag doll. Pulling your hair as he fucks you doggy style, pinching and biting your tits as he rams into you.
✯ As mentioned before, Porco has never had a woman that can keep up with him nor can have the dirtiest & kinky sex with him, so you were a package deal. Sometimes your sex drive was more than his, you can never get enough of his cock.
✯ He will find every opportunity to fuck you. Any surface place in the house is already checked off. Car sex? Yes, Public bookstore sex? Yes, party bathroom sex? Fuck yeah. Of course, Reiner walked in on you both but continued on like rabbit dogs. Let's just say you both were a match made in kink heaven
✯ Confidence and his ego radiate off him just by him making you cum on his hard cock not to mention his breeding tendencies, he’s never wanted more to cum inside a girl before you. He is a huge family man and loves kids. This man is so infatuated with you that he sees you having his children. His breeding kink is activated when you beg him to cum inside you. Since then, he loses control when he thinks about fucking a baby into you. He makes sure that every last drop of his cum is inside you and literally sticks his finger in your already overstimulated cunt to stop his seed drip out of you.
✯ Porco loves trying new things so bringing toys into the mix was a god-tier. Fascinated by your toys, he would be so excited to use them on you. Instantly gets hard watching what they do to you and gets entranced at the faces you make and the way you moan his name while looking at him. Especially the remote-controlled underwear vibrators, the exhibitionism at its MAX
✯ Although Porco was a manwhore, he became a manwhore for you and only you. He surprises and suggests new positions and games just so he can fuck your brains out. He can fuck you anywhere or on any surface possible, I think you're both just horny for each other and can’t get enough.
tag-list: @kentosovertime @sugarmapoops @sugarbooger513 @severelytalentless @bebechinas99 @jeankirsteinsgirl @katgalle
#jems writing#porco galliard#galliard porco#porco galliard headcanons#porco headcanons#porco galliard hcc#porco smut#porco galliard x reader#porco galliard x you#porco x you#porco galliard x y/n#porco galliard x fem!reader#porco galliard x female reader#aot porco#attack on titan#aot#aot headcanons#attack on titan headcanons#aot smut#attack on titan porco#aot x reader#aot x you#aot x fem!reader#porco snk#snk headcanons#snk x y/n
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Fic Friday! ❤️ Rebel’s Weekly Fic Recs
~ Haladriel Week Edition (Part 1) ~
Aiight y'all, I took a week off and you DELIVERED the @haladrielweek GOODS. Like, DAMN. Rest assured, I'll be recc'ing stuff from Haladriel Week for many weeks to come; I'm still getting caught up on devouring all of your amazing fics, artwork, Tumblr and Twitter posts, and more! Thanks again to @formerlyir for putting this whole shindig together and all of you for your amazing contributions.
Without further ado—as always, this week's recs are...
As always, please mind the tags on any recommended story for your own personal preferences.
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The Classic You’ve Heard Of But Somehow Haven’t Read Yet: like magnets work, only drawn to thee by @bluetiefling
What you need to know going in:
As I started reading this fic, which the author described as her first in years, I knew it was an instant classic! One-shot, post-S1, this story sees Galadriel sneaking into Sauron's war camp in an ill-advised assassination attempt. It's pretty immediately clear her heart's not in it, not really—the bid to kill him, anyway. 👀 Things go from awry to full of angst with a cloying, desperate, spicy edge from there, and the angst has claws. In the best way. And the smut? 🔥 Like I said... instant classic.
Complete, Explicit
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The AU You Need to Immerse Yourself In Because, Well, Wow: the rules of you by sawdustdiamonds
What you need to know going in:
The hook for me with this fic was immediately the unique setting and the premise; a Victorian-era AU, in it, Halbrand owns a gambling hall, and Galadriel is, of course, a Lady—they meet when he catches her counting cards. 😆 As always, I love how Galadriel barrels into things guns blazing, and this fic renders her (and his) characterization perfectly. Without revealing too much, they strike a mutually beneficial deal with her sharp skills, and the instant attraction, sexual tension, and ultimate devotion soars.
Complete, Explicit
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The Complete But Never Forgotten Masterpiece: when the world was so young by @hazelmaines
What you need to know going in:
Something to know about me: I am a SUCKER for childhood sweethearts almost as much as ETL. Combine those two??? An immediate sign me the hell up (so much so that I've written it myself 😆), and that was my exact reaction when I first set eyes on this HW fic from favorite @hazelmaines. Set in the First Age, Hal and Gal meet as youths, Mairon and Artanis, and grow in life and love together before Mairon's fall, only to meet again on the Sundering Seas. Achingly sweet and somber in equal measure, I won't say too much else... just read and revel in the mythical, cyclical beauty of this fic.
Complete, Mature
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The WIP That Will Wreck You (In the Best Way): all your pain will end here by @bad-surprise
What you need to know going in:
So first, I need to say that it was incredibly difficult to pick just one of the many fics from @bad-surprise to highlight from Haladriel Week, because she blessed us with SCADS of them, and I was torn between this one and another WIP that I decided to save for next week, but I picked this one because the premise and first chapter is a jolt; a shock to the system in its heady horror, and I'm itching to see what happens next. Long story short: Galadriel is a therapist, and her patient, Halbrand, is in desperate need of therapy for his homicidal tendencies. Can she help him before she becomes his next victim? I don't know, but again—I can't wait to find out.
WIP, Explicit
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The Can't Stop Consuming No Matter What Time It Is Fic: it's a dangerous game by @wyrd-syster
What you need to know going in:
So this story is complete but I think the category holds because HOT. DAMN. I hung onto every word of this masterpiece and somehow simultaneously sped through it with an almost feverish fervor; it was—is—just that goddamn compelling. Reading it almost felt like caving to compulsion; an irresistible pull into the world with little mercy and no way out but forward, but you're happy you're there. In this Venetian-style, Jekyll & Hyde-esque AU, Galadriel is stalked by one man that is moreso two: Halbrand and Sauron both, a beast intent on a bloody romance that may be more than he bargained for. I don't want to say too much in case of spoilers, but... the vivid imagery, the gorgeous prose (as always with @wyrd-syster's impeccable works), and the ever-present, thrumming fear in this fic is nothing short of outstanding. Just, wow.
Complete, Explicit
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🤩🤩🤩
Me at all these fics:
Don’t see your story on this list yet? Keyword: yet. Please don’t fret! I can only recommend so many each week, but I am always looking for more stuff to read, share, and generally shower with love, so please feel free to reply with your own fics or your personal faves. I have plenty more to recommend… ❤️
Until next week!
#saurondriel#haladriel#sauriel#saurgal#galadriel x sauron#sauron x galadriel#galadriel x halbrand#halbrand x galadriel#galadriel x mairon#mairon x galadriel#galadriel#sauron#artanis#halbrand#mairon#saurondriel fanfic#saurondriel fic#haladriel fanfic#haladriel fic#haladriel week#haladrielweek#trop fanfic#trop fanfiction#rings of power fanfic#rings of power fanfiction#fanfic recs#fic recs#fic rec#positivity towards trop fan creators only please
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to be honest, i'm sad and disheartened to be leaving sylki fandom and deactivating this blog.
i was excitedly looking forward to celebrating sylki endgame with everyone but it's not possible with what this fandom has turned into.
for those who don't know, i have committed two grave sins in my fandom history:
said in my post that i don't think sylvie getting pregnant and birthing loki's babies would be a compelling conclusion to her story in canon. me saying that apparently equals to insulting the fic writers.
jokingly said that sylki fandom is vanilla and i'd personally love to read a fic where loki is yandere. again, apparently by saying so i undermined the hard work and mastery of sylki writers.
committing these sins against the sacred hcs condemned me to the punishment of getting bullied by the people many of whom i once bent over backwards for in order to protect them from the antis and lokius shippers doing the same thing to them that they now do to me each time i dare to reveal my unpopular opinion.
rest assured, i won't ever come back to this fandom, it has become way too vile and aggressively heteronormative, with the shippers valuing the fanon babies over the well-being of a real person.
to the people who liked my posts and stuff, thanks and i wish you all the best. my one advice is to remember that the people, including your mutuals, you are vibing with here might turn on you and literally harass you if your fandom take doesn't align with theirs, so don't get too attached.
so, yeah... bye. i hope sylvie has a great ending in this season. 💚🗡
#sylki#loki#sylvie laufeydottir#i will delete this blog in a few days so that my well-meaning mutuals know what's up by then
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Dear Jen, I could really use some kind words
In my soul I just feel like I’m not the right type of girl, like I’m not someone who gets to have relationships or romance. I don’t know how love finds some people and it sticks with them for years and years while I always end up in situations where my feelings can’t be returned. I do all the right things too like therapy and going to social gatherings to meet other lesbians. But I think something might just be wrong with me and a long term partner isn’t in the cards for me. I KNOW I’m a catch too so I really feel like it’s just my fate to be alone
Hey. I can't assure you that you will find true love soon or that the right person in "just around the corner". But here is what I can offer.
I don' believe or logically aggree that any of us are fated to be alone. I do think the old saying "sometimes you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your princess" has a lot of validity.
Life and love are complicated. The key is to not settle. If the other woman is not able to give you mutual passion, respect, intimacy and love don't waste any more time. Life really is short. I was 25 with good knees not that long ago and here I am 54 taking "Women Over 50 One A Day Plus Vitimans ". In the words of Ferris Bueller "Life moves fast pretty fast". Don't put up with unhappiness just to be in a relationship.
Many people who are truly a good catch are single because they won't put up with being taken advantage and they are stable enough to stay single as opposed to seeking partnership to just "not be alone".
Something I often tell my younger lesbian friends is You are not too much for the right woman. For the right woman you are just enough much.
Lesbians and to some extent all women often feel that they are somehow failing to be woman enough or doing it right. This is not a bug but a feature of our world and has been for much of history. If women think they are never good enough for the right person they will be available to a larger pool of not so right people. (Namely more men).
Short term relationships can be happy and positive and fulfilling so don't be afraid to try and when it is clear it is not working for you or the other person do not feel like you have failed. Length of a relationship does not equal value. It is never failure to recognize and leave something that is not working.
I can assure you that you deserve happiness and you are right in not settling for less.
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UWMA Soft D/s Moments Ep 10-11
For other episode, check out my master list here.
The show starts with Korn and In dancing/hugging in their apartment. To me, Korn already has a sense of loss. In knows something is wrong but doesn't know how to ask. Because we all know how Korn doesn't communicate well. Honestly, though, this moment feels like Korn has already decided his course of action and is just soaking up memories.
We have a cute moment with Dean and Pharm on Pharm's bed. That's about the brattiest I've ever seen Pharm be to Dean 🤣🤣🤣There were a few moments in there that were for sure Dom. The wanting to drive Pharm and him telling Pharm to take a shower first.
Moving on to the kitchen sink. Dean oversteps Pharm's boundaries. Pharm stood up for himself. This is 100% valid. Subs have boundaries, and submissive doesn't equal not being able to stand up for themselves. It just means they don't want to have control. Those two things are not mutually exclusive.
WinTeam time. Team can't sleep, so he heads to Win's apartment. Win asks what he is doing here but immediately nods when Team asks to stay. Team being the brat, he is antagonizes Win by taking up the whole bed. Does not listen to Win when he is told to move. Yet Win is not pushy because he wants to punish Team. Which he does. Team was antagonizing a response out of Win but doesn't know what to do with him now that he has him. He panics and pushes Win away. Team tries to put up a dominant front and hasn't really figured out how to lower it. It really doesn't bother Win, though. When Team needs to be submissive, he is. Like him asking Win to take him to see the lights. It wasn't, "Let's go see the lights." or "I'm taking you to see the lights." He said, "Win, can you take me to see the lights?" Then he asks Win if he can hug him to sleep. See the submission there.
We start the series off in episode 11 with Korn being late. I like the true apologies. We are starting to see a softening in Korn that is much needed. Him considering someone other than himself. In kisses Korn's check and while Korn is concerned about being seen. He doesn't come off as harsh as he normally does.
I really love the part next to the car when Dean just holds out a hand. Pharm tries to play clueless, but when Dean says "keys," he hands them over. Then Dean tells him good boy. Using that praise kink as a reward.
Now we are at the same spot that Korn and In were. Dean makes sure that they are there before the shops are closed. Dean kisses Pharm this time and he could give a fuck less who sees them.
Okay, so why is going and seeing the lights so important if he isn't even paying attention. It's something couples do. Now, by this point, they are already a couple, but Team is still nervous about that. He needs constant reassurance. Win taking him to see the lights reassures him they are a couple. Win immediately recognizes this and gets a "mistletoe." He tells this story to Team, and Team is immediately like, where do we get mistletoe. I'm so down for this long-lasting relationship. And so we get the broccoli.
In ties a red ribbon around Korn's wrist. Notice that when In goes to take Korn's wrist, Korn just goes with it. He trusts In now in a way he didn't before. He didn't even think to question it until he saw the red thread and wanted to know what's going on. He is immediately concerned about the bad omen and goes back into the harsher Korn from before. He quickly softens in the face of In. Though he thumps him, he still assures him that he will be with him forever. Now I know what you're thinking. Luta, didn't you say last time that Korn planned on doing something bad. I do. In the flashbacks, there are times when see Korn is strong in his relationship and then times when he falters under the stress and the belief that he has no way out.
We quickly see what I mean in the part. In Pharm's dream. Then Dean and Pharm meet up. With Dean immediately recognizing there was something wrong and when he realizes he can't do much to help. He moves to distracting Pharm. Which works to cheer him up.
I love the bedroom scene. I love how Pharm is more confident but you can watch it and see that, Dean has the control. The way Pharm tells him to stop and Dean just over rides, "No." Then we get to Dean asking Pharm if he is hungry. Pharm immediately jumps up and apologizes. My husband does this. Dean tells him that he is going to take care of him this time. This is considered providing care. So basically it's a way to show their appreciation. Some subs never want this and then there are subs who need to know on occasion that they are valued. Or the Dom themselves might need to do this. It just depends on the guidelines of that individual relationship.
So that's it. Hope you guys enjoyed it! 💜💜💜 This is dedicated to @darkrose82 @thegildedacorn @thequeenofsastiel @bengiyo @dayummmdorisss @tabbygray @tleighblack @amos-reviews-main
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WIP WEDNESDAY!
It's Valentines Day!
And the next prompts for @zelinktines24 I'm working on are much later in the month. 😩
28: veil (final chapter of Cherished)
29: make a wish! (Genie!Link)
So here's a little snippit of Day 29, because it's Valentine's Day! And genie Link is a bit of a troll and I love him.
Synopsis: While attempting to escape from the Yiga hideout she's been imprisoned within, Zelda stumbles into their treasure room and accidentally becomes the unwilling Master of an equally uncooperative genie.
Zelda scans the piles for anything familiar, recalling that several royal relics from the church of Hylia have been stolen through the years. Perhaps she's flattering herself to think she'd be able to escape her captors at all, let alone recover any meaningful relics now that she's accidentally found herself in their treasure horde. Nothing from the torchlit, half hazard hills of gold sings out to her anyway. Instead, her vision alights upon an alcove recessed within the wall. Framed by large sconces and hung on a fine golden chain is a lone pendant—an ancient, marble sized poe lantern. Frowning, she tucks two fingers around the glass and swipes at the dust with her thumb. A blue shimmer swirls inside it. The Yiga are keeping a poe?
She jumps at the sound of a ghostly sigh over her shoulder, thinking her bid for freedom has come to an end. Zelda tucks herself against the side of the alcove, out of sight from the entrance. But no one is there. Several anxious heartbeats confirm it— she's alone.
"What are we hiding from?" A whisper from above.
Shrieking, she darts away to spin on her heel. He's midnight blue, a floating torso leaning back against the alcove's ceiling with eyes a lighter shade of the same hue. His mop of red hair is half pulled into a gerudo voe head piece. Her panicked stare is travels down to his bare waist, which dissolves below the hip into a plume of smoke, coiling down to the glimmering pendant like a tether.
"My eyes are up here."
Teeth click together and Zelda looks whatever he is full in the face, refusing to be cowed by that tone. What might've been a kind visage is marred by his cold and clever stare. She can read hostility in the way his eyes tighten around the corners. Internal warning bells tone; such an expression belies a mind of equal ice and intellect. A trickster: do not trust.
"You surprised me," she breathes. "I thought I was alone." Pull it together, Zelda commands herself. And for the love of Hylia do not blather.
"The feeling is mutual, I assure you."
There's a beat of predatory silence in which Zelda feels more like prey than before with this rude, blue ghost hulking over her. Goosebumps cling to her skin. His curling smile is souring into a grimace, but he still tilts over to examine her closely.
"You don't appear to be a Yiga."
"Neither do you." But he's evidently important to them. Is he friend, foe— something in between?
His laugh is condescending in the extreme. "May Demise take me before I ever become one. No— I am but the humble genie whose lamp you just rubbed, as I'm sure you're well aware. You may call me Link."
Another unfortunate pause. His eyebrows lift when she doesn't answer, and once again he's chuckling at the expression on her face.
🧞♂️
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🛑18+ please - minors move along🛑 implications of sexual content
Thinking about when Chrissy and Eddie have their first time together.
Eddie is as nervous as Chrissy. He doesn't lack experience, but he's no expert either. The fact that he does shows at the Hideout, has given him chances to meet random groupies. He doesn't remember their names and their time together means nothing.
But with Chrissy, it's like his first time all over again. He's unsure of where to place his hands at first, so he settles with her face. Cupping her jaw and pulling her into a searing kiss. There's a montage of emotions going through him. Mainly guilt for deflowering such a precious soul. He feels inadequate, with the state of his room and trailer. But, when Chrissy meets his kisses in equal fervor, his insecurities melt away. For being untouched, Chrissy is sure of what she wants. She knows where to touch him to assure him, he's doing something right.
His hands eventually find purchase on her hips, and his fingers trail up hitching her shirt along with them. His fingertips are like fire against her skin. She shivers. He begins to guide her back against the bed. He sits first, and pulls her to sit on his lap. Their lips never separating. He removes her sweater gently, exposing her shoulders and neck to him. He itches with the rush of wanting her at that instant. But he practices restraint, and silently reminds him that this isn't his regular quicky. He has time and Chrissy deserves better than what he's use too.
Their clumsy and when Chrissy laughs at random times, Eddie can't help but smile with her. She'll apologize but he quiets her with a kiss. "It's okay, I thought that was funny too". When he begins to undress her, she takes her time getting comfortable. She still feels inadequate with her body. Her trouble areas being her arms, thighs, and her abdomen. From years of her own mother making her feel ugly and unwanted. Eddie seems to love nipping and sucking at those areas the most. Her mother's words are so far away now with how good Eddie makes her feel. She doesn't feel undesirable, because Eddie makes her feel powerful.
There is pain when they finally become one, but Eddie is patient and waits. He's the perfect gentleman, even though his exterior says otherwise. They don't do much besides get comfortable and learn about each other's bodies. Eddie is attentive of Chrissy's needs. And when their both done and breathless, Chrissy lays her head on his chest. She listens to his heartbeat jackhammer against his chest. She wants more. She tentatively asks for more, and he smiles at her. "As you wish, my lady". ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
-
I'm a slut for consent and mutual desire
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So yes I LOVE soft soulmate-y Bruabba but something that’s underutilized with these two is how much they could be the worst, most destructive thing for each other because I think it could be SO interesting-
We get caught up in the romance of “don’t be bound by your past” but Bucciarati IS Abbachio being bound by his past. Still bound to the criminal underworld that, if he can’t beat, he may as well join. Not just looking the other way while the innocent get robbed and exploited but actively participating in it. Still taking orders from people with their own enrichment in mind. Doesn’t matter as long as he has a direction in life.
But Abbachio is just too ready to challenge Bucciarati. Whether he’s a cop or just the first (or only) one to argue Bucciarati’s orders, he is putting cracks in Bucciarati’s authority over him. But Bucciarati looks at Abbachio as an equal (or looks up to him as an elder according to the wikia) so this seems to work for them. I think he’s the only person who would really look Bucciarati in the eye and say “are you fucking stupid?” and I think Bucciarati lowkey needs that. Like. Subconsciously needs it.
Are my thoughts half baked? Yes a little but I think there’s something to be said for these two being two gay idiots in their twenties who were thrown together by chance and are now running towards mutually assured destruction. Which is what a codependent gay relationship in your early twenties is all about.
#mine#jjba#bruabba#bruno bucciarati#leone abbachio#having been in a long term codependent gay relationship these are my thoughts
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thinking abt the coincidence/fate/parallel thingy of big boss being in the coma for 9 years aka exactly the same amount of years as the age gap between him and ocelot.
because it's like. at first you have ocelot as the bratty rookie kid falling for the older supersoldier guy and maybe ocelot spends years trying to bridge that gap, to prove himself, to impress, to make bb notice him. but then. once the coma happens and bb wakes up again suddenly it's all different.
ocelot is now 39 aka the same age as bb when he went under. and during the 9 years ocelot has grown up while bb has slept, unchanging, so while bb is now physically 48 really they're mentally sort of the same age. equals now. (but it took a tragedy and 9 missing years of bb's life to get to this.)
but ALSO do u ever think abt. the sheer amount of trust they have in each other in 84. ocelot is entrusting bb with the words to wake him up from his hypnosis. bb is entrusting ocelot to carry out the phantom plan. but it's LIKE. it's not that trust itself but the context of it. like. [continued below]
i think of them as being always sort of scared of each other in some ways. like it's a contradiction of bb knowing ocelot has pledged his loyalty and yet being wary of ocelot all the same. and ocelot for all his ability is still sort of at the mercy of bb like anyone else is. and maybe more so because bb knows the extent of ocelot's feelings for him. (in my mind.) there's power in that fact bc bb knows that ocelot will likely do whatever bb asks of him if it's in bb's best interests.
but also on a more general level they're both such deadly killers. neither is more powerful than the other in terms of a simple physical fight. they're both predators; it's not cat and mouse. and they're opposites in many ways and could even hate each other in some ways but at the same time they're the only people alive who can properly understand each other. and they're linked together by the you killed my mom thing whether they like it or not. i digress but the point is.
they're red string of fate intertwined in weird twisted ways and bb has all sorts of conflicting feelings about ocelot and ocelot although he's madly in love is also so coldly rational at the same time that you never know what he might do and they're locked in this tense thing of mutually assured destruction and fucked up dynamics BUT.
in spite of this they "trust" each other. in 84 bb's life (his safety) is in ocelot's hands. and ocelot's life (his real memories) is in bb's hands. they know they'll meet again, because how could they not. they're inseparable from each other but not even inherently in a romantic way they're just like that.
they almost blur into one. they're both monstrous, they're both deadly. when they fight with each other it's like something they could never find in anyone else. maybe ocelot tried to find it in kaz during the 9 years, but it wasn't the same. kaz is a warrior, a liar, a manipulator, a betrayer, sure; but amongst his lack of morals and his confused cravings for power, control, money, sex, blood, a place to belong, whatever, there's something deep down in him, some kindness or compassion of some sort maybe, which prevents him from ever fully becoming all monster and no man.
whereas with bb it's different. they're both equally insane. when they fight they don't hold back; their eyes glow red.
they're both "sons of the boss" too, of course, which is a whole kinda thing. maybe ocelot hates that bb sees her in him; but maybe he's also glad of it, bc if she wasn't his mother, maybe bb wouldn't bother to keep him around at all. and he can't pretend he's never been curious about his mother, and bb is one of the only people he knows who knew her; so while he might like to forget her, to pretend that she's dead and gone, it's not really like that. and ocelot knows better than most people whether the dead really stay gone or not.
which brings me to something else im thinking abt. like what if it's 1999 and john is dead, everyone says he's dead, killed by his son, but if that's true then why hasn't ocelot seen him? OK, some people don't come back as ghosts, but John's soul hardly deserves to rest in peace. every time it rains he's all antsy, wondering if this time bb will show up, but he never does. and ocelot is as rational, logical and calculating as he is hopelessly in love so he thinks about it and draws two possible conclusions. either bb is genuinely at peace, or he isn't actually dead. it's entirely possible that he's still alive - stranger things have happened, and the man does seem to lead a charmed life. and maybe somehow he manages to hear something from someone that bb is in a coma again. but - my god, if that is true, how long will it be this time? another 9 years? he doesn't even know where john is this time. it's 75 all over again. he should have been there when the crash happened; he should have been there in zanzibarland.
so anyway. too long did not read. do you ever feel just a tiny little bit insane about bosselot. because of things like these.
#alright i meant to save this as a draft but accidentally posted it instead .Oh well.its here now#LOL#lisette mumbles#bosselot#top secret documents
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