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#if anyone wants to see it i can try and get it later
pucksandpower · 1 day
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Rockabye Baby
Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: you and Oscar take the next step in building your family … just not in the way that anyone expected
Note: I really wanted to get something silly and cute posted for Mother’s Day — and so this was born! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it 🫶
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You snuggle closer to Oscar in bed, resting your head on his chest as his fingers lazily trail up and down your arm. It’s been an exhausting few weeks on the road, with races back-to-back, but these quiet moments together make it all worth it.
“Osc?” You murmur sleepily. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything.”
You hesitate, not sure if you should broach the subject. But you’ve been together for years now, surely he’s thought about it too? “Have you ever, you know … thought about having kids?”
Oscar tenses slightly, his fingers stilling on your skin. “Kids?”
“Yeah.” You prop yourself up on one elbow to study his face. “We’re not getting any younger. And I know racing is your whole life, but … I don’t know, I think you’d make an amazing dad.”
A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You do, huh?” His fingers resume their gentle stroking along your arm. “I can’t lie, the idea terrifies me. All the responsibility, the pressure ...” He blows out a long breath. “But with you by my side? I think we could make it work.”
Hope blooms in your chest and you lean in to kiss him, long and lingering. “Really? You mean that?”
“Well, not right this second.” He chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “But someday? Definitely.”
You beam at him, buzzing with a childlike excitement you haven’t felt in years. “Oscar Piastri, future father. I can’t wait.”
He pulls you close, tucking you under his chin. “Me neither. Now get some rest, yeah? Big day tomorrow.”
You hum contentedly, letting his steady heartbeat lull you toward sleep. Kids with Oscar … you can’t imagine anything better.
A few days later, you’re curled up on the sofa after a long day of work, idly scrolling through your phone while Oscar pads around the flat. He’s been oddly restless and fidgety all evening, but you’ve learned not to question his little quirks. He’ll open up when he’s ready.
“So,” he begins, sinking onto the couch beside you with an adorably nervous expression. “You know how the other night you mentioned, um … wanting to be a mum someday?”
You perk up instantly, setting your phone aside as your pulse kicks up a notch. “Yeah?”
“Well.” He ducks his head shyly, then pulls something from behind his back — a small, smooth rock, painted in garish shades of papaya. “I got you this.”
You blink at him. “A … rock?”
“It’s our baby!” He thrusts it toward you proudly. “See, I’m the dad now. Taking those first steps.”
A startled laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Oscar, you dork. That’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Too much?” He grimaces, though his eyes are twinkling with barely contained mirth. “I just thought, you know, we could start small. Get used to the idea before, uh, before anything bigger.”
“Oh my god, I love you.” You take the rock from his hand, cradling it tenderly as you peck his cheek. “Hi there, little guy. Hope you don’t mind a slightly non-traditional family.”
“Not at all.” Oscar drapes his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. “We’ll just raise him to be open-minded and accepting. Like his mum.”
“His mum who gave birth to him in pebble form, you mean?”
Oscar shrugs unapologetically. “He’ll be the talk of the playground.”
You dissolve into helpless giggles, nestling even closer. “This is certifiably insane, you know that? I can’t believe we’re grown adults playing house with a pet rock.”
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” Oscar nuzzles into the crook of your neck, warm and solid against you. “We’re new parents. We can do whatever we want.”
Over the next few days, Rocky, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him, becomes a constant presence. You bring him along when you travel to the next race, introducing him proudly to the team. Lando takes one look and bursts out laughing.
“What the bloody hell is that thing?”
“Our son,” Oscar says with a straight face. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”
“You two are properly mental.” But there’s an unmistakable fondness in Lando’s smile as he gently pokes at Rocky. “S’pose he takes after his dad, eh?”
You crack up at the offended look on Oscar’s face. “Oh, trust me, I’ll be handling most of the heavy lifting around here.”
From there, it only escalates. Rocky gets his own tiny race suit, his own seat in Oscar’s car (firmly buckled in, of course — safety first). You find yourself referring to him with increasingly outlandish endearments.
“Here, let me get the handsomest stone in the whole wide world a bottle before we try tummy time.”
“How’s my little pebble today? Did you sleep okay in your bassinet?”
Logan nearly falls over laughing the first time he sees Rocky strapped into a miniature car seat on the plane between races.
“You guys are too much, man.” He shakes his head in bewildered amusement. “Where do you even find stuff like that?”
Oscar smirks. “Parents have their ways.”
The joke takes on a life of its own, morphing from a silly gag into a full-blown inside joke, an ever-present reminder that someday, when you’re both ready, you really will have a baby of your own to dote on. For now, though, raising Rocky together is more than enough.
It really hits you one evening as the team celebrates Oscar’s latest podium finish. You’re sitting with a small group, letting the lively chatter of friends and team members wash over you, when you become aware of Oscar sitting across from you. He’s got Rocky nestled in the crook of his elbow, cooing nonsense as he gently jostles him.
“Who’s a good little guy? You are, that’s who. Gonna grow up big and strong like your dad, yeah?” His expression is so tender, so achingly soft, that you feel your heart swell fit to burst.
He’s going to be an incredible father someday, you realize with a jolt of startling clarity. Look at how natural it comes to him, how happy and content he seems, just cradling that silly rock.
Later that night, you find yourself curled around Oscar in bed, trailing feather-light kisses along the line of his throat. He hums deep in his chest, tangling one hand in your hair to tug you closer.
“Mmm, what was that for?”
“Nothing.” You prop your chin on his chest, drinking in the achingly handsome lines of his face. “You just … you’re gonna be such an amazing dad, you know that?”
A bashful smile tugs at his lips as his free hand smooths along the curve of your hip. “Yeah? You really think so?”
“I know so.” You reach out to trace the sharp line of his jaw with one fingertip. “Any kid would be lucky to have you.”
Oscar’s gaze softens to molten gold in the dim light. “Not nearly as lucky as we are to have you. You’re the best mum Rocky could’ve asked for.”
He kisses you then, deep and searing, pulling you flush against him as the world around you falls away. And when he finally breaks away, breathless but beaming, you know without a shadow of a doubt:
Whenever the time comes, whenever you meet your real baby … everything is going to be okay. More than okay.
Because you’ll have Oscar by your side, just like always. Your partner, your best friend, and the love of your life.
***
Five Years Later
You cradle your newborn daughter to your chest, gazing down at her perfect little face in pure wonderment. It’s only been a few hours since she made her entrance into the world, but you’re already hopelessly in love.
“She’s beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, voice thick with unshed tears as he brushes one reverent fingertip along her downy cheek. “Just like her mum.”
You lean into him, overcome. This right here — the two of you and your brand new baby girl — is everything you’ve ever wanted. All those years of loving Oscar, of dreaming about starting a family together … it was all leading to this shining moment.
A soft knock at the door breaks the tranquil silence. Oscar shoots you a quizzical look as a familiar face pokes his head in.
“This a bad time?” Lando grins crookedly. “I come bearing gifts for the little one.”
“Lando!” You can’t help but beam at the sight of your friend. “Get in here, you muppet.”
He slips inside, toeing off his shoes with a cheeky wink in your direction. “Well someone’s in a good mood. Can’t imagine why.”
“Are you kidding? I’m amazing. Completely knackered, but amazing.” You gesture for him to come closer with your free hand. “Here, come meet Oscar’s little co-driver.”
Lando’s expression melts into something unbearably soft as he peers down at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Aww, mate … she’s perfect. Well done, you two.”
“Do you, uh ...” Oscar clears his throat gruffly. “D’you want to hold her?”
For a moment, Lando looks almost scared, like a deer caught in the headlights. Then he nods jerkily, settling into the bedside chair with surprising care as you transfer your daughter into his arms. He cradles her close with the utmost tenderness, rocking her ever so slightly as she lets out the faintest sigh.
“Look at you,” he breathes, sounding utterly besotted already. “Just a teeny little thing, aren’t you?”
It’s like seeing an entirely different side of him, one you never could have anticipated. Not the cheeky, irreverent joker you’ve known for years, but a man, a friend, wholly disarmed by new life and possibility. You exchange a look with Oscar, heart fit to bursting.
“So,” Lando continues, still totally entranced by the baby. “I know we ribbed you mercilessly for a while there about the whole rock baby thing ...”
Your mouth falls open in recollection. “Lando, please don’t-”
But he’s already reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a familiar splash of textured papaya. “But there’s no way I’d let my favorite nephew miss out on this.”
Rocky, battered and faded but unmistakable, sits nestled in Lando’s palm. You nearly choke on a startled laugh.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“Hold up, there’s more.” Lando somehow manages to keep cradling the baby with one arm as he bends down with the other, hauling a plastic bucket onto the bed. You gape at the contents — dozens upon dozens of smooth pebbles, each one lovingly decorated in bright shades of orange.
“Had to get the whole family involved, didn’t I?” Lando says with a shameless grin. “She’s got loads of brothers and sisters to look after her now.”
You swat at him in a flood of exasperated affection. “You absolute prick. Look at you, being all sentimental.”
“Me? Never.” But the shine of unshed tears in his eyes contradicts the words. He transfers the baby back to you with exaggerated care, then takes a moment to stroke one gentle finger along her tiny cheek. “You’ve got one hell of a village behind you, little one.”
Over the next short while, Lando pulls up a chair and regales you all with outrageous stories and anecdotes, all while Rocky and his “siblings“ make the rounds, passed from person to person like favorite old friends. At one point, Oscar’s cradling your human baby in one arm and your original baby rock in the other, murmuring nonsense to them both as you blink back tears for what feels like the thousandth time that day.
“Look at you,” you say in awe, drinking in the sight. “My little family.”
Oscar meets your gaze over the top of your daughter’s head, his own eyes shining. “Our family,” he corrects softly.
You’re still reveling in that realization when a quiet knock sounds at the door. A nurse bustles in with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to need to move the baby to the nursery soon. Just for a little while to let mum rest.”
Oh. You clutch your daughter closer on instinct, chest caving with an aching reluctance you weren’t expecting. How can you possibly bear to let her go already?
But then Lando slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Oi, it’s alright. We’ll keep an eye on her for you, yeah? Give Uncle Lando and Mini Piastri some quality time.”
Rocky sits nestled in his other palm, as stalwart and patient as ever even after all these years. You nod quickly, swiping at your damp cheeks as you kiss your daughter’s downy head one last time before relinquishing her to the nurse.
“I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Don’t go growing too much while I’m gone.”
Watching her get wheeled away is harder than you could have imagined, like a physical ache in your chest. Oscar wraps you up in his arms from behind, steadying you with his usual quiet strength.
“She’s okay, babe,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. “She’s just down the hall. We’re not going anywhere.”
You let his soothing words wash over you, turning into his embrace until your breathing evens out again. First lesson of parenthood learned — this part’s not easy. But you’ll get through it, just like everything else, with Oscar by your side.
Rocky sits on the bedside table, bold colors slightly faded but message as bright and clear as ever. A reminder that sometimes, the smallest, silliest things can take on the biggest meaning when it comes to family.
“Alright lovebirds,” Lando pipes up, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. “What d’you say we bring the whole crew down to see the little miss soon, eh? Give her many uncles a chance to swoon all over her?”
You manage a watery chuckle, leaning into Lando’s side as Oscar tucks himself against your other side. Because this? This little patchwork family you’ve built around yourselves, kept close through all the chaos and the years? This is what it’s all about. The fierce loyalty, the bond forged by adversity and triumph and teamwork. The family you’ve chosen over and over again, year after year, through all of life’s twists and turns.
Your eyes drift to Rocky, resting quietly on the nightstand by your hospital bed. Once an inside joke, a silly gift from your husband to make you smile. Now a treasured heirloom, a precious mascot for the latest member of your ever-expanding clan.
Maybe you’ll hold onto that little rock for another few decades, you muse, draping one arm around Oscar’s trim waist. Long enough for your daughter — and any other little ones who may eventually join her — to grow up passing him between chubby baby fists. Long enough for your grandchildren to gather around and listen to stories about.
“Come on then,” you’ll say with an indulgent smile. “Let Granny tell you the story of Rocky. How he was the very first baby in our little family ...”
***
r/offmychest
u/NumberOneRockHater · 9h
My parents and entire family are convinced a ROCK is my older brother!
Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it’s been driving me crazy for years. My parents and extended family are all obsessed with this rock that they insist is my older brother “Rocky” (ugh, I know).
I’m talking full-on delusion levels here. Ever since before I was born, my dad got my mom this painted rock as a joke “baby”. Well, the joke escalated to the point where they started taking this rock everywhere, dressing it up in little outfits, calling it “him”, the whole nine yards.
At first I thought it was just a weird little quirk, you know? Silly but harmless. Except it never stopped. I’m 16 years old now and my PARENTS STILL REFER TO THIS ROCK AS MY SIBLING.
It’s always “Where’s your brother?” and “Did you pack Rocky’s bag for our trip?” and “Don’t forget to wish your brother a happy birthday!” My uncle (who is the WORST enabler) will show up to every family event pulling more painted rocks out of his pockets like “Look, more kids for you guys!”
Meanwhile I’m just standing there like a crazy person. How is nobody else concerned that my entire family has deluded themselves into believing a literal inanimate object is a sentient being?
And the real kicker? This dumb rock has been passed around and adored more than me, an actual human child. I have clear memories of being like 6 years old and my parents getting legitimately UPSET at me for dropping Rocky on the ground. While I’m standing right there!
My dad loves telling this stupid story about the day I was born, how my uncle showed up at the hospital like “I brought the baby’s siblings!” and pulled out an entire bucket of painted pebbles. PEBBLES, PEOPLE. As my “brothers and sisters”?
I’m honestly losing my mind here. No matter how much I protest or roll my eyes, they always play it off as a silly inside joke. Like yeah, I’m sure getting your knickers in a twist over my lack of acknowledgment for THE ROCK YOU NAMED AND CLAIM IS MY SIBLING is a totally normal thing to do! My mum actually teared up the last time I put my foot down, saying she could never abandon her “firstborn.” Um, hello? I was the firstborn, you weirdos!
At this point, I have to assume that either A) My parents and family are all certifiable and living in a shared psychosis, or B) This is some sort of Truman Show situational prank that I’m not in on.
Is it too late to be adopted by a normal family? Or do I need to be the one committed for dealing with this nonsense?
Please tell me I’m not actually going insane here. Anybody else have a family this completely deluded?
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u/NosyAndProud · 8h
LOL no way, your family sounds hilarious! I’m dying at the image of your poor teen self dealing with this ongoing rocky sibling chronicle. But in their defense, you’ve gotta admit it’s a pretty creative way to memorialize a dumb inside joke, right?
My advice? Lean into it. Get your big brother an outfit for the next family gathering. Play fight with “him” in front of your friends and horrify them. TP the house and blame it on Rocky’s delinquent behavior. The possibilities for messing with everyone are endless!
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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 6h
I’m honestly crying, your suggestions have me wheezing! Although if I DID embrace this, I’m pretty sure my uncle would lose his mind. He’s already brought enough “rock siblings” for an entire pebble daycare at this point.
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u/JudgingLoudly · 7h
This is sending me! I’m just imagining you as a little kid, trying to argue with your parents about why inanimate objects can’t actually be siblings. And them being full-on “Well ackshually, this is Rocky your brother” 🤓☝️
But also lowkey it’s kinda sweet? I mean objectifying nonliving things is usually a bad idea (see every Disney movie ever). But if it’s just a quirky tradition that brings your family joy and makes them feel special, who are we to judge? You only get one weird childhood!
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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 5h
Yes, exactly! It was always “But Rocky will be so disappointed if you don’t share your toys with him!” Like … what?
And don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful parents and we’re a very close, loving family. That’s what makes this particular shared psychosis so baffling! Just a big ol’ collective break from reality to obsess over this stupid rock, I guess.
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u/LiveForDrama · 4h
Ok but real talk, I would give ANYTHING to have been a fly on the wall when your uncle first unveiled the “siblings” 💀 I’m picturing this grown man deadass pulling pebbles out of his pockets and ceremoniously announcing “Here’s baby Pumice, and little Granite, and this one is called Basalt ...”
And your parents were just like “Why, HELLO THERE LITTLE ONES! WHAT DELIGHTFUL NEW ADDITIONS TO OUR BROOD!” Just … no questions asked. No commentary on the total insanity. God, I love families.
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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 3h
You have NO idea. I still have flashbulb memories of being like 10 years old, walking into the living room to find my GROWN-ASS UNCLE lying on the floor, lining up those idiotic pebbles and introducing them one by one.
Meanwhile my dad is on the couch COOING at them and having full-on conversations like “Isn’t that right, little fella? Your uncle just loves to spoil you, doesn’t he?” MY BRAIN COULD NOT COMPUTE.
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u/GlassHalfFull · 2h
Ok, gotta say … as someone raised by very boring, no-nonsense parents, I’m just a lil bit jealous of the sheer unrestrained WHIMSY your family has cultivated here.
Like, you’ll always have this hilarious shared experience to look back on! Sure it’s a rock, but it’s THEIR rock, you know? That’s beautiful in a weird way. At least your childhood wasn’t mind-numbing evenings full of tax documents and khaki pantsuits?
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Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 1h
Haha, you make a good point! I definitely can’t say my childhood was dull, that’s for sure. Although I do have traumatic memories of losing Rocky at a rest stop when I was 5, and my parents freaking out for hours until we found him under a vending machine. Totally normal.
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chaconnenha · 1 day
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ꔫ I'LL BE YOUR BOYFRIEND
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❛ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇───𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾...
�� 𝓮𝗇𝗁𝓎𝗉𝘦𝓃 𝔁 𝒻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 › sum. you're not his girlfriend, and he's not your boyfriend, but... ♯ cw. jealousy & possessiveness, petnames, minor suggestive, insecurities ✉️Ꮺ jw's scenario inspired by @jwnstars <3 ❪ THE ✦ LIBRARY ❫
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𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 doesn’t even spare a glance to the girl clinging onto his arm when you walk through the door. immediately brushes the girl off to follow you when you glare at him, before turning on your heels to walk away. he really doesn’t want anything to do with someone who isn’t you, but has to put up an act because that’s the only way you ever show him any reaction. doesn’t take long to find you where you sit at the bar alone, nursing an untouched drink. you roll your eyes, getting ready to leave, but his hand shoots out to grab yours and pull you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist. “no need to act so jealous,” he teases. when you deny it, he chuckles, because you weren't fooling anyone except yourself. “you know, you could end this once and for all: just say the word…” he places a sensual kiss on your cheek, smirking when you shiver involuntarily at the feeling of his lips. “and i’ll show everyone here that i’m yours.”
𝐉𝐀𝐘 is so sweet, it's hard not to feel special... until you realise that he's just that way with everyone, and that you weren't an exception. he doesn't see anything special about the way he lends a girl his jacket when their shirt is soaked through. but you don't know that. so you barely look at him, and forego the usual pretty smile that you grace him with whenever you meet eyes. he literally follows you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, and he doesn't care if he looks pathetic because he just really doesn't want you to be upset with him. he corners you at the end of the day, and you can't help but admit everything, even though it feels silly. but instead of teasing, he smiles and brings you to his chest, pressing a searing kiss against your lips that makes you lose all strength in your legs. "you know, i don't kiss anyone else like this," he says, as you pant for your breath. "you're the only one for me, princess."
𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 immediately loses all feeling when he spots you with his arch enemy, smiling at him so prettily while the latter stares at you in awe. immediately knows what you're up to when you shoot him an innocent smile once you spot him staring in the distance, and smirks at himself because, that's how it's gonna be, huh? pushes you up against the wall later on, when the two of you are alone, laughing to himself internally when you try to push him away so half-heartedly, your hand simply resting on his chest. "does your little boyfriend know you were using him to make me jealous?" you scoff, rolling your eyes, because not everything you did was about him. to this, he only hums, his lips ghosting over your skin. he smiles when you swallow a lump in your throat, breathily whispering his name when he places kisses up the column of you neck to your jaw, so he can whisper into your ear. "no? well too bad for him, i don't like sharing my pretty girl."
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 panics when he sees you crying to your best friend on the phone after you spot him with his ex, accidentally overhearing the moment when you start comparing yourself to her, how she's so much prettier, so much better for him, and how there's no way you can compete with her. he can't stand seeing you so insecure, when in his eyes, there was no competition─you were it for him, and that was the end of the story. he marches over to where you're curled up in a ball under the bleachers. your eyes widen in shock at seeing him, panic flooding your features. but you have no time to question how much he heard, when he suddenly grabs your face in his palms and kisses you dumb right there and then because how dare you talk so little about yourself? you're in shock, because weren't the two of them getting back together? or so, that was what you heard anyway. "no we're not and we never will," sunghoon replies. "because i only want you."
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 gets along with everyone, and that just happens to include the girls that you've never liked, and whom have never liked you. but if he knew that was the case, he would have stayed well away from them. when they notice you walk into the room, frowning as you spot sunoo with them, they get cocky thinking they have something over you. they flirt with him, giggling at everything he says, before one of them loudly fawns over how buff he is getting. that is the last straw for you, and you immediately excuse yourself from the room, not wanting to see anymore of it. but sunoo is hot on your heels, chasing you down until he catches up to you. "hey, what's wrong?" he asks, to which you scoff, saying that nothing is wrong, and that he should go back to those girls instead. but, "why would i?" he asks. and when you're left speechless, he smiles, before grabbing your hand in his and leading you away. "they're not you."
𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 hadn't anticipated you'd run into each other at the mall, but he's glad for it, because unlike you, he immediately becomes aware of the way a group boys eye you up and down in the distance. it only becomes more irritating when they seem to be laughing among each other, bumping shoulders and watching as you walk out of the dressing room, looking much too pretty for your own good as you try a new dress on. he instantly walks up to you, bringing you in by the neck for a deep kiss, his hand laid possessively on your waist. "sorry, baby," he says, buy not looking sorry at all, when he sees how the petname effects you. "you're just too pretty to leave alone." but you instantly catch on to what's happening, and tell him that he was awfully jealous for someone who wasn't even officially your boyfriend. to which he says, "i thought it was obvious? you're mine, and i'm yours."
𝐍𝐈-𝐊𝐈 doesn't get jealous, but he does hate the feeling of being the one left out of the loop─which is exactly what is happening right now, with the way you and one of your close guy friends keep exchanging looks that make you giggle and hit his arm, telling him to knock it off. he watches as your friend gives you teasing looks, and for what? he doesn't know. "you guys seem close," he says after your friend finally leaves, to which you tease him, asking if he's jealous. and at this point, he sighs in exasperation, because, "you already know i am." and when you're stunned into silence, he can't help but smirk, because "why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" he leans closer, towering over you, loving the way he's the one making you flustered and not someone else. "everyone except you knows i'm down bad."
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lucabyte · 2 days
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Finally: The NoHats AU doodles. Plus some sprite edits.
Usually I'd let things speak for themselves and keep my chattering in the tags, but I'll ramble about my context thoughts...
So. First of all here's a link (x) to the Nohats Origin Post for those coming in and going ????.
Anyway. These doodles are not in any obvious chronological order, though Loop going from pilfered bandolier (my headcanon for how Siffrin has all those pockets) -> custom outfit made by Isabeau, is supposed to generally denote 'just after the ending' -> 'a few months down the line'.
And speaking of, Design & Characterisation notes:
Overall: NoHats is suppooooosed to have the range to not just be ULTIMATE MISERY ALL THE TIME (but if you're a major whump/angst fan. go fucking nuts.) so these are supposed to be. The steps toward overcoming and living with grief but. The Misery Is Kind Of The Punchiest Part.... Oops....
Mirabelle: Taking the lead, continuing to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. In the game proper she's already shown to, while yes, be emotionally fragile at times, be prone to trying to hold the team together. I feel she'd do the same here. It also would help that she'd presumably be medicated again? But I can't imagine her chosen-one anxieities would be super ailed by the death of her friend. I wanted to try and give her more differences? She follows the change belief after all and is thus liable to switch up her style in general... But I didn't have a strong vision for this, so. The ball is in anyone's court. Her design changes here are keeping one of Sif's safety pins a la qpr bonding earring, and has the bell pendant at Loop's (oddly pushy) suggestion.
Isabeau: Taking it. Badly. Depression mullet and beard in tow. However, you best believe he is trying real badly to hide it. Loop very much does not reveal their identity to him because What The Fuck Would That Even Do. That's Scary. but they do try to comfort him while mentally regarding him "off limits". Backs themselves into some very unfortunate corners by alluding to their unfulfilled relationship with their Fighter as a point of common ground. I don't imagine this would go super great when recontextualised later after Loop is inevitably found out. Just in general oh good god what the fuck. this is like a radioactive pit of survivor's guilt.
Bonnie: Taking it probably The Worst. This is a child. Who was already feeling guilt. This is who everyone else is trying to keep it together for. Mirabelle and Isabeau would likely be putting up far less of a front without Bonnie around. They take the hat and take on Pocket Duty. They also have slightly more sif-y hairstyle but... Don't worry about it. They'd have Nille to fall back on once she's picked back up, and Loop almost certainly attempts to redouble efforts on making them feel better but seeing as how closed-off Bonnie can already be, it'd likely be difficult. However they would probably take Loop's identity reveal best...?
Odile: Odile's design.... ! Does not seem to have changed? How odd! Well. I'm sure she's dealing with things in a regular and non-cloistered manner. I already think that a regular Postcanon Activity for Odile could be her finding out about the potential for sif/loop to translate books and thus Knowledge in their native tongue assuming that ability sticks around postgame. Something something culture can never truly be wiped out etc etc. But putting it in this context. Makes it more desperate, more of a deflection for something else.
Loop: Helpful Loop. Well. They win! I feel like the entirety of ISAT being about Siffrin's mental state means I don't need to spill much ink here? You get it I think. I can't outdo the source material man. Anyway I imagine Loop is given clothes by Isabeau before they know who they are, but after they've become genuine friends. The outfit is in genuineness, on both sides from Loop and Isa, in having the cloak be a nod in respect to Siffrin, since Loop's "shared culture" would have to come up vis a vis cultural funerary traditions. Hard to avoid divulging that one...
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unstable-samurai · 2 days
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Until You're Mine (Jealous Girlfriend) - smut
Momo x Male Reader
Word Count: 4k
Tumblr media
Tags: toxic relationship, jealous girlfriend, non-linear story, possessive girlfriend, first sex, penetration, boobjob, facial
She was awake when he arrived. She heard the door latch turn twice as it was unlocked. There were always two turns, fast and firm. Y/N saw her lying on the couch, watching another animated movie. It was the kind of movie she looked for when she really needed to be distracted, her escape valve or something, so seeing her there in front of the TV close to midnight (it was much later than that, but he had no idea), turned on na emergency light in his mind.
Normally he was the owl of that house.
“Hey baby, why’re you still awake?” he asked. “I said you didn’t have to wait for me.”
“I just felt like watching a Studio Ghibli film. Only that.” She explained without looking at him.
No fucking way it was just that. She was frowning. One of those moments where Momo turned into a bomb and it was up to Y/N to disarm it without it exploding. The problem was that this was an impossible task to do, any wire he cut would result in an explosion. And that was the last thing he wanted. His head was already a battlefield in itself. That damn company party had exhausted his social battery, which wasn’t much anyway. Y/N didn’t have the courage to provoke an aerial bombardment that night.
"OK. Is the film already close to the end? I can see it with you.”
He sat on the left end of the sofa, Momo didn't mind moving his legs so he could have more space.
“Did you have fun there?” she asked.
"Yes. Was cool."
"Just that? No details?" she questioned him quite insistently.
“You’re watching the movie, I don’t want to disturb you. In the morning I’ll tell you everything.”
Y/N had his head focused on the bath he was going to take in a while and how he was going to sink his head into the pillow. No more plastic masks, fake laughs, shallow people, please.
She paused the movie.
“What a ridiculous excuse. It sounds like you were trying to hide the things that happened at the party.”
“No, it doesn’t sound…” He was almost sure of it.
“Yes it does, you bastard.”
“It wasn’t even a party. We were all among work colleagues.”
“I've been to enough parties to know that it was YES a party. Loud music, drinks, pool, snacks. The complete package.”
“It’s a damn modern company, okay? They please the employees and pretend to be cool so that we forget the slavery we are subjected to on a daily basis. You kids had fun on Saturday and you’ll work overtime on Monday, okay?”
“Wait, I made a mistake. In fact: VIP package. They even hired prostitutes. Five star service.”
“Are you high or what?”
He was too tired to read the signs.
“I saw the way she kept touching you. The giggles... As if you were the funniest clown on the planet and she was a fucking hyena.”
Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. He had finally understood everything. The last spark of his neurons, probably.
“There were no prostitutes. And I wasn't chatting up with any girls.”
"Oh, really?" She stood up too. “Let me refresh your memory, dear: short black hair, horse smile, lilac dress, can't stand alone unless she's supported by a man, small tits... Seriously, I don't know why she decided to wear that dress with cleavage if there was nothing there to show. Someone should tell her the truth. So, does this remind you of anyone, my love?”
The fucking bomb exploded in his hand.
“That was Rachel, a friend from work. How the hell did you see what was going on at the party?”
Momo laughed sadistically. Her wickedly beautiful eyes looked at him with intensity as she asked:
“Are you afraid?”
"No. I didn't do anything wrong to get scared. Did someone record me at the party?”
"Yes. And it wasn't just that. I also saw the stories of those who were at the party and you appeared in some of them in the corners. I saw everything.”
Here's a little overview of this relationship: A year and a half of dating. They met through mutual friends and the first deep contact was delayed, but when it happened it ended up becoming a path of no return. Y/N avoided her as much as he could, not in a way that would be noticeable and make him seem rude. But we were talking about an incredibly beautiful woman, aware of her attractiveness and unfettered by modesty. She was with a group of eight other beautiful and popular girls. Yes, she was elite. High caliber, my friend. Well, he was... quiet, an avid reader, calm and sometimes melancholic, but he loved being with his friends and enjoying them on the weekends, respecting his limits, of course. When he saw Momo for the first time he cowardly ignored her. She looks stunning in front of his eyes, wearing a short denim skirt, a baby tee that leaves her sculpted abs on display and her hair flowing in the wind as she dances. There was no way to predict that the plan would backfire; by not noticing her, Y/N became one of the few guys who didn't try to flirt with her. Apathetic guy, but handsome enough to take risks, the little boy who only swims in the shallow end, a plastic armor he forced himself to wear.
The reason? Momo didn't know, but she wanted to find out.
On one of the many night outs where they bumped into each other, Momo skillfully simulated an intimacy that clearly didn't exist between them, talking to Y/N closely, fake accidental touches, and killer eye contact. Abruptly, intimacy between them was forged and evolved in a short space of time. After a while it was no longer strange when they were among friends and Momo sat on his lap, or when she felt tired and rested her head on his shoulder. And Y/N could play hard to get, but he loved the attention he got from Momo, the controversial “bad bitch” (as some girls who didn't like Momo called her), the most attractive girl he knew was always glued to him, and the sexual chemistry that grew over time intoxicated his ego. Being with her made him feel good and more confident and also… shit, she was more than a superficial person or 'just another one of those teasing girls' like a lot of guys used to think. She had a unique way, attitude and things to say too.
“Were you acting like a stalker all night? Seriously, watching stories of other people trying to see me from the corners is a fucking weird thing.”
“And you've been acting like you don't have a girlfriend all night? I almost called Jihyo to drive me to this party to say a few things to that bitch. But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.”
“What is the reason we are arguing? This shit doesn't make sense. I'm exhausted..."
“Have you forgotten your promise? You told me you would arrive early...”
“I didn’t look at the time when I was there. I thought it was still early when I was leaving the party.”
A cynical laugh escaped Momo's mouth.
“You didn't even bother to look at your fucking cell phone to see the time. What is your problem?"
Y/N sighed. He should have already known that going to this party wouldn't be a good idea.
“You know I only went to the party to establish some contacts with the other branch. The damn job forces me to maintain a good relationship with everyone.”
"Poor boy! Does it also force you to talk to sluts?”
"This again?!”
“A little bird told me you were too close to each other on the couch.”
“Who was this damn person?”
“Why blow the heroine’s cover? Maybe she’ll be there again at the next parties.”
“Would you like it if I hired someone to follow you around?”
"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide, because I have consideration and respect for you, asshole!”
“According to you, I cheated you just by sitting on a couch talking to a co-worker. A colleague who can help me move up in the company as she has just been promoted.”
“Apparently it’s not just at work where she likes to be promoted.”
"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling defeated.
"You know what I want."
“Honestly, I don't know. God must be punishing me for some sin I committed, that’s the only explanation.”
“Make me your girlfriend or your tormentor. You decide." She took a step forward. “You know I could be with anyone. But I'm with you ‘cause I love you, silly.”
If only there wasn't something genuine about it all.
Being alone with her knocking down topic after topic like dominoes was so fucking enjoyable, the way she laughed, the way she listened to him (Momo didn't interrupt him even during the long pauses he took when he needed to organize his line of reasoning, a mere peculiarity of his but which never went under her radar), the way she could be incredibly silly at times and, even without sharing many common interests, Momo liked having him explain things that were previously uninteresting to her. This attention he received was blinding and addictive. Growing up in a harmful and neglectful home, neediness was his compass and his weakness. But he never showed signs. Y/N was good at disguising it... He thought so.
Their first sex was an unforgettable moment, a path of no return, in the same way that a criminal remembers the moment of the crime that sentenced him to prison. It occurred when they were on a camping trip, good friends gathered, each to their own tent, campfire, marshmallows, snacks, stupid horror stories, and wine. One of the few moments where he felt slightly intimidated around her, as he felt Momo watching him like a predator, and after each glass of wine she became more and more intoxicated, grabbing Y/N from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s very cold here” she whispered in his ear. And Y/N couldn't tell if it was the wind or Momo's velvety voice so close to him that made him shiver.
The hours passed incredibly quickly, eventually everyone retreated to their tents, and eventually there was a slow cessation of the noises of people, finally leaving only the cold whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves in the trees that surrounded the hill where they were camped and the symphony of insects orchestrated by crickets and cicadas.
He heard sneaky footsteps. It was certainly someone who needed to take a piss and didn't want to wake the others. But the footsteps got louder and louder until he noticed that someone was actually coming to his tent, stopping in front of the entrance. The flash on his cell phone was on (he was reading a book and the damn camp lamp was emitting a horrible orange light), so he pointed the light at the entrance of the tent and saw a very familiar silhouette.
“It’s me, Momo. Let me in!" she whispered. "Quickly!"
Y/N lowered the zipper, opening the way for her.
“What are you doing up?” he asked.
“I was sleepless so I decided to come and check on you.”
"I am well thanks."
She was wearing comfortable clothes. Striped pajama pants, a sweatshirt that was too big on her and her hair loose and messy. Y/N noticed that Momo had removed her makeup. It was the first time he had seen her like that.
"What are you reading?" Momo asked as she sat down.
“Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller.”
"Cool! What is it about?!"
How the hell was he going to explain this?
“About a guy living in Paris.”
"It seems good. Read a chapter to me.”
"How old are you?"
“Don’t be annoying. Let's do it like this: I point the cell phone's flash at the book and you hold it while you read to me. This way we can read lying down.”
Hard to refuse, hard to say 'no' to her.
“You know I love you too, Momori.” he said
Momo was wearing his long-sleeved shirt, she loved that shirt and, truth be told, it looked incredibly good on her. The legs so sensually exposed... Was that still a discussion?
“Sometimes you make me doubt this love, baby. Do you like making me look crazy? I swear to God you love seeing me jealous. When I get like this, does it make you horny?”
“No” he lied to one of the questions.
“You know how I am, Y/N.” One more step forward. She could touch him if she wanted. “And I only ask one thing: don’t talk to other girls. We establish a limit and then cross it, what is the purpose?”
Now closer he could smell her, her body that was warmed by the blanket. Nipples hardened through the fabric of her clothing.
“You look so beautiful...” he blurted out of her mouth.
“But I don’t think I’m beautiful enough for you since you try to be with other girls when I’m not around.”
"Is not true. I only have eyes for you, Momori.”
With a decisive gesture she grabbed Y/N by the collar of his social shirt. A noise escaped his mouth. Slowly she ordered:
“Say you are mine. Say you belong to me.”
He felt her head moving on his chest, he thought she was just looking for a comfortable position, until he was surprised by a kiss on the neck. And another one. And another, and they were getting more and more intense.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he lowered the book, the air escaping from her mouth.
“This book is really interesting and even put me in the mood to do something more fun.”
"What are you talking about?"
He had his hands pressed into Momo's arms, but he made no real effort to push her away.
“I know what you think about me. I know what you want from me. Don’t try to hide it now.” Her voice breathy and wavering. “I want to fuck you so bad, fuck!”
"Here?"
"Now!”
Y/N turned Momo around, placing her back on the floor and then getting on top of her.
“Momo…” His head was a hurricane. Was this really happening? “I've imagined the two of us doing this, but I never thought it could actually happen.”
There was a pause that was filled by a kiss.
“I don’t think you know how hot you are. Other girls were also eyeing you, so I decided to act quickly.”
Y/N lifted Momo's sweatshirt, and was able to appreciate and touch her abs for the first time. Kissing her abdomen was like an achievement, she knew how beautiful it was, that's why she never made a point of hiding it. The soft, slightly sweaty skin met his lips in a mix of sensations.
He lifted her sweatshirt a little more, exposing her juicy boobs. They were big, he knew that, but the first glimpse paralyzed him for an instant, he was amazed, and his hand filled with desire wasted no time in grabbing one of the tits while his mouth sucked the other..
“Oh, Y/N” she moaned.
The cell phone's flashlight went out as they rolled from side to side in the camping tent. Surrounded by the weak orange light of the camp lantern, the senses now seemed more heightened, the touches more intense and brazen, the breathing more labored and an uncontrollable lust, noticeable in several ways, such as Momo's pussy that wet his fingers when he touched her down there.
“I belong to you” he declared. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I am only yours, Momori.”
She smiled satisfied.
"Sit down!" she exclaimed harshly, and pushed him onto the couch. Momo certainly knew how to impose herself when she wanted, the mechanism of submitting him to her will through horny never failed. Sitting on his lap, she said: “You like to make me suffer, you know that? You like having your girlfriend mad so she can have hard sex with you and get you back on track. So depraved, baby!”
It was partly true, although he wasn't consciously acting to make her jealous. The problem was that this wasn't a difficult task, the girl was possessive as hell, so the options fluctuated between becoming a puppy on a leash or floating on the waves of a tide that could occasionally get... Aggressive.
"Do not say that. I don’t like making you feel bad.”
She kissed him, she felt Y/N getting excited down there.
“And yet you hurt me.”
He couldn't refute it, so her tongue had another use; warm and wet, she played with Momo's tongue. She sighed when he lightly bit her lower lip, slowly removing the pressure, enjoying her taste like a professional taster.
“It was never my intention,” he said. “Your jealousy is sick.”
“Living with you is hell, you know that?” she revealed. “But you always make me feel so surrendered." Momo slowly touched her nose to Y/N's. She whispered: "It’s a fucking hell, baby.”
Instead of responding, he decided to dedicate a series of kisses to her neck. Momo loved it, it was her weakness. She smiled while letting out small moans of satisfaction.
Momo stroked his dick and under the fabric of his underwear and pants he was already completely hard, waiting for her. She rubbed her hand on his dick eagerly while he felt her breasts and left hickey marks on her neck.
“Oh baby, I want your cock in my pussy so bad!”
He covered her mouth with his hand while he penetrated her deeply. The friends' camping tents were close to Y/N's, and Momo was moaning loudly, so it wouldn't be difficult to hear her in the silence of the night.
“Shhh! You can’t make noise like that!” he said breathlessly.
“It’s fucking hard. Your dick is really big.”
At one point she crossed her legs around Y/N's waist and he could feel her pussy getting tighter and wetter. Immediately Y/N laid his body under hers, penetrating her with force, feeling her pussy swallow his cock eager for pleasure. She moaned loudly, Y/N sucked on her tongue in an attempt to suppress some of the noise, Momo's eyes rolling back in pleasure as her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, as if she could never have him inside enough. Each thrust was an explosion of raw sensation, her insides wetting his cock urgently as he fucked her with wild love, each movement driven by desire that had been postponed for too long.
“Lie on your side!” Y/N asked.
He watched her with burning lust, his eyes fixed on her pert ass, eager to possess her in a different way. With one quick movement, he positioned himself behind her, his cock pulsing with anticipation as he slid in, feeling enveloped by the warm wetness of her wet pussy. He gripped Momo tightly, his hands marking her skin as he fucked her sideways, each thrust sending waves of electric pleasure throughout her body. Momo's moans filled the air, soft and sweet, mixing with the sounds of the wet friction his dick made as it slid inside her. All the touches, the intimate conversations, the looks that met and lost each other when they were in the circle of friends, the jealousy they hid from each other when one of them was talking to someone else, all these things led them to this moment , and now they assumed this feeling… making love.
Momo showed some of her talent when she rode his dick with her back to him, Y/N's body rippling with desire as she rode him with full force. Her hips moved with an erotic cadence, his cock disappearing inside her with each thrust as if he were plunging into a warm ocean. He squeezed Momo's fat ass, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the frenzy of sex, her moans intensifying with each thrust – fuck if anyone would hear. The tension between them was palpable, the air in the tent stifling as they neared their climax. And then, finally, Momo squirted, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, as Y/N watched her in wonder in the light of the camp lantern, her silhouette writhing with pleasure, so perfect, so sensual that he could fill her of cum at that moment.
Something he didn't do.
Things happened so fast that Y/N didn't have time to put on a condom. Well, truth be told, he DID NOT have a condom in his tent (not the kind of thing you think about taking on a camping trip with friends when you're a single guy).
“Cum for me, baby” she asked, her voice full of lust. “Where do you want to cum?”
“On your tits.”
It was one of Y/N's fantasies, it usually came to his mind when he saw Momo with cleavage. Now it all seemed so intentional...
Y/N stood on top of Momo, his desire burning so strong he could barely think straight. With shaking hands, he grabbed Momo's massive boobs, feeling his hard-on grow as he squeezed them tightly. Y/N wanted to feel every inch of that soft flesh surrounding his thick cock, he wanted to sink into that delicious sensation until he lost his mind. And then, without further hesitation, he began to move frantically, sliding his hard cock between Momo's breasts with great desire. Loud moans echoed through the tent as he gave in to the pleasure of that sensation, losing himself in the sensation of heat and pressure.
“You gonna cum for me, huh?” she asked between moans, making a point of maintaining latent eye contact while smiling naughty.
“Yeah, I'm gonna cum for you, baby! You're gonna make me cum, Momo.”
“please please, cum for me!! Yeah! Cum for your naughty babygirl...” she begged, hot as fuck, while biting her lower lip like a horny bitch.
And when Y/N finally reached the edge he let out a primal groan, his orgasm exploding in a hot shot over Momo's boobs and face. She looked so beautiful like that in the light of the camp lamp. Y/N brushed her face with his dick, making a nice mess on that adorable little face, and she smiled while this happened, Momo smiled until he finished his art, she finished the job by licking what was left on the head of his dick.
Uninhibited from any shyness, thanks to the endorphins his brain had released, he smiled at her, finding her the most beautiful woman in the world, and into Momo's precious eyes, Y/N confessed: 'I wanna love you.’
It's common to look for culprits in a dysfunctional relationship, who manipulates who, the prisoner and the jailer and all that old story. It's hard to admit that sometimes there is a dark pleasure in predicting events, returning to the same place that is your refuge and your sentence. Most people shoot at "emotional dependence", but few dare to target "connivance". Y/N felt like he was part of the second option. Repeat the fucking pattern, see the wheel spin in the same direction, the same trip as before. It's your pit of lies and acceptance, man, you smell the stench and yet you insist on moving forward, it's not much different than a dog licking its own vomit. At the end of the day, no one will tell you that you deserve better.
If you really deserve it.
"I remember what you said to me that night in the camping tent." She whispered, lying under his chest. "When we had sex for the first time. 'I wanna love you'. That's what you said. Your voice was so sweet and calm. I think that's when I realized that my feelings for you were really special."
The two were snuggled in bed, protected from the cold by the blankets, completely naked after having sex. This was always how fights ended, and the question that arose was: what's the next thing, now? An apology? Unfounded promises about how to improve as a person? Affectionate words to dissolve what was said during the fight? It was a mystery box.
"Those were the words? I honestly don't remember the exact words clearly."
"That's exactly what you told me. I slept with you in the camping tent feeling very happy."
"I was happy to be with you too."
"But at that time I didn't realize that you were actually still trying to fall in love with me. You wanted to love me, but you didn't really love me yet."
"I was a little confused at that time."
"What now? Are you still trying to love me?"
"I love you, Momori. but at the same time... I don't think we work together.”
"We agreed to it then. And honestly, does it matter?"
"I don't know. I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."
"Yeah! And look, we're not the only couple to go through problems like this. We're not alone in this, baby. Forget that Hollywood bullshit about perfect couples. It's not real. It's okay for me to stay like this, as long as we stay together."
"We always fix things."
"Making love is a great way to solve problems. That's our formula."
"Come here, my love" he said.
A/N: sorry for any grammar errors 🖖
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29 / 2.1k / soap soulmate au, part 6
...
Ghost looks up as Soap storms out of the weapons closet.
"Still herself, I take it?" Ghost asks.
"She's a stubborn pain in the ass is what she is."
As expected. Soap misses the dry amusement that crinkles the corners of Ghost's eyes very slightly. "Didn't talk, then," Ghost says.
Soap scowls. "Not a goddamn word we can use. She won't listen to reason. Thinks she can face down an army. Dense, irritating--"
"Strong-willed," Ghost says.
"To a damn fault. Canny see what I'm trying to do for her. I'm-- she's--" Soap can hardly articulate his frustration. He's got this sick feeling in his stomach like he's been kicked in the gut hard enough to make him hurl.
It's not just you being too stubborn to give up the intel. What happens when you’re freed? You’re not going to stick around. What if Graves snaps his fingers and you go right on back to him?
Soap lets out a rough sigh. "There's more than Graves keeping her from talking. I don't like it."
"You've got a plan?" Ghost guesses.
Soap nods. "Aye. I need to talk to Laswell--"
"Done." Ghost produces a beige folder and drops it into Soap's hands. "Had her look into it for you."
"I'll be damned." Soap flips through the pages in the folder. "Christ. Bloody thin file." He fans the pages inside like a flipbook as if checking for extra pages. "Where's the rest of it?"
"Not much there to dig up."
"Then she's gotta be missin' some--" Something catches Soap's eye as he skims through, and he pauses, lingering on a photo.
Hell's fuckin' bells.
"Think that'll help?" Ghost asks.
"I'd wager so."
"Good. You goin' back in?"
"Aye.” Soap folds the file into his jacket and gives Ghost a good-natured fist bump to the arm. Then he brushes past him, knocking into his shoulder.
Ghost grabs Soap’s arm again before he slips past. "We don't have much time. Price wants to move on Alejandro. Says if you can't get the intel, we go in blind. Rodolfo leads."
Soap sets his jaw. "How long?"
"Three hours. Tops." He claps a firm hand on Soap's shoulder and turns to leave. "Get some sleep."
A moment later, the metal grate door slides open. You straighten back up and steel yourself again.
There's something different about the way Soap carries himself this time. He's not wound as tightly. But the way his eyes settle on you is... odd. The shift in his expression puts you on edge.
He sits down across from you. "We've not got much time. If talking gets us nowhere, we'll try something else."
You lean back, mirroring his posture. "You gonna torture me?”
“That what you’re expecting?”
“Maybe. You ever tortured someone before?"
"Aye. Can't say I care for it, but I know how if that's what this takes." He examines you again with that sharp gaze. You don't feel like he's undressing you with his eyes anymore. It's more like he's searching for something. "Why ask? You want me to put my hands on ya?"
You ignore the mental image that imprints. "I want you to waste your time."
Soap smirks. "What I wouldn't give to let you waste my time. You, me, all this animosity between us... I've got a few negotiation techniques I'd very much like to try." He leans back into the chair, his hands folded in his lap with an easy grin. "But you're no' the type to break under pressure."
"Better men than you have tried."
"Tried torturing you?" His grin tightens just slightly. "Anyone I know? Names, locations?"
Your cheeks heat up again. At that, for some reason. "I can take care of myself."
"I know you can."
He produces the thin file and tosses it onto the table between you.
You look down at the papers that slide out. They're grainy and covered in redactions as if printed and bound, pulled from the deep end of some filing cabinet, scanned, rescanned, and printed again. But you glimpse your name. Your real name--the one printed on Johnny's skin, too. Your chest twists and your stomach sinks.
Soap sees the change in you and leans forward, elbows wide. He opens the file and pushes it across the table. "I'll do anything to protect you, darlin'," he says. "But I need information."
The file is everything you don't want anyone to know. But what catches your eye is that photograph. "Who else has seen this?"
"Me and Laswell. Maybe Ghost if he was feelin' nosy. Does Graves know?"
You pull on your cuffs, wanting to reach for the pages and push them away. "Captain Graves said he'd make this disappear."
Soap leans back, broad palm sliding out to touch the edge of the pages, and his expression softens for a moment. "Some things you can’t make disappear."
You look at him, twisted up with pain and anger. "So, what, if I don't talk, you're threatening to expose all this? Is that it? It won't work," you add with false confidence. "Captain Graves knows everything."
"What I want to know," Soap says, voice quiet, "is what he did with it."
"What?"
Soap leans forward again. "Did he threaten you? Did he say he’d make this go away if you worked for him, hold it over your head?"
"No!” you snap. “After this happened, I couldn't-- I was discharged from the military. I couldn't find work. He reached out to me. Said he didn’t mind if I had… history. Then he offered to have it scrubbed if I wanted.” You stare down at the papers. “He never threatened me. He helped me."
Soap lets out a breath. He was prepared to deal with something a lot worse than that. Maybe he hoped for something worse. If Graves were blackmailing you, the solution would be easy. He'd give you protection, offer to have Laswell erase that file from existence instead, CIA-style. After all, if Graves got his claws into you and onto his payroll that way, why couldn't he? Probably got you dirt fucking cheap, too. Bastard.
Part of Soap wants to press that angle. He could tell you Graves never intended to deliver on his side of the deal. But the truth is that Graves would've had little control over this. Seeing the state of the file, Graves likely did what he could to have it redacted, sealed, destroyed--but someone over his head intervened. Shepherd, maybe. There'd be nothing Graves could do.
Soap wants you more than anything, but the pain in your eyes when you look at these documents tears him up inside. He can’t manipulate you that way. Even if he got you to himself in the end, he'd never forgive himself.
"That's... that's good. He protected you." Soap crosses his arms, squeezing his fist hard around the object inside, the one he pickpocketed off Ghost a few minutes ago. Much as he hates Graves, the man kept you safe. But that's his job now.
"I don't care who you tell," you snap, suddenly full of anger and spitting fire. The sight of those pages puts you on edge. You feel like a cornered animal. "I'm not telling you a goddamn thing. Do whatever you want to me. You're no better than--"
"Am no' blackmailin' ya." Soap's expression sours. So much venom in that mouth of yours. He runs his thumb over his tightened knuckles to suppress his own temper. He's amazed at how easy it is for you to get under his skin, how you push all these buttons when he's the one who's supposed to be pulling the strings.
But he realizes how this must seem. You act tough, but you're vulnerable, exposed, and he has every reason right now to drive the knife in and twist it hard. Maybe he should. Going into the Las Almas base blind means danger for his squadmates.
Christ, he’s tired. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Darlin’, I... I know now you've done things you're not proud of. But that doesn't change anything. Not to me, not to Ghost-- hell, none of us would bat an eye. You don’t need to protect yourself anymore. I need you to talk to me. We're out of time."
He thinks this is about you protecting yourself? You shake your head. "If you’re storming the Las Almas base, you're going up against Shadows. You're asking me to help you kill my own."
"If that matters to you, then tell me how to get to Alejandro without alerting the guards. Nobody has to get hurt."
You scoff, looking away. "There's no way to do that and you know it."
"We don't have to shoot them if they stand down first."
"That's not going to happen. They'll shoot you on sight. It'll be a bloodbath."
"Not for us."
You close your eyes. "I know. That's what I'm worried about."
Soap lets out a frustrated breath. "We're going in whether you talk or not. The blood's on our hands. Not yours."
You keep your gaze angled away, clearly not believing that. "I don't see why you care about security. I don't see why you need intel at all. This is what you're good at, right? This is what 141 does. You break in doors, you kill people."
Soap grips the edge of the table. "The only thing gettin' you out of here is information. I don't care what it is or if it's useful. Price wants intel."
"I don't have it." Your voice is flat and cold. Whatever you can do to make him understand you're not worth the effort.
He leans in and grabs your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. "Then lie to me."
"What?" You stare at him, feeling pinned under that intense gaze. "Are you fucking insane?"
"Might be," A small, sly, half-smile curves his lips. "I'm also desperate, runnin' out of time, and at the end of my rope after starin' at you this long, knowin' I can't have you." He runs his thumb along your cheek. "Maybe I'm bankin' on you losin' your mind before I do."
You swallow. "You'll be waiting awhile."
He smirks. His thumb moves from your cheek to your chin, fingers trailing down the side of your neck. "Do you think you're a good liar?"
Before you can answer, someone bangs on the metal door, rattling it. Price's voice echoes in from outside.
"Get some sleep, Soap," he calls. "We're briefing soon. Give it a rest. We’ll press her for more intel after we’ve got Alejandro back.”
Soap tenses at the sound of Price's voice. "Wasn't planning on sleepin'," he calls back.
"Wasn't a question," Price calls back. You hear him walk away.
Soap withdraws his hand, letting out a soft curse.
"Why would you give your own Captain false information?" you hiss. "You could lose your job. You could get court-martialed. Even if it worked, what if Shepherd finds out? He's still in your chain of command."
"Guess that's a risk I gotta take."
"Then what if I tell you something that gets your teammates hurt, huh?"
"Won't happen. I'll be in the front when things get risky."
"Then how do you expect me to-- if it means you're the one who's--" You huff, words failing you. "You're so goddamn thick."
"Am I? Because here I am, tryin' to make plans and get a read on you, and all you wanna do is piss me off and run your mouth. I'm learnin' a lot." He tilts his head. "In fact, it's startin' to sound like you're worried about me."
"Absolutely not."
"Could always tell me the truth. Extra insurance if you do. Maybe it’ll keep me alive."
"You don't need it," you snap.
"I think I do." He leans in, crossing his legs and folding his arms. "Got a bad feeling about this one. No Shadow worth their salt wouldn’t send us straight to hell if it meant finishing the job. Especially Graves."
You feel another pang of dread in your gut. He's right.
He watches you for another long moment. Neither of you speak.
Finally, he stands, sighing deeply as he goes to the door. "Alright."
"Are you coming back?" The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.
He pauses in the doorway. Then he turns back, staring at you like there's something he wants to say. He looks down at the stolen object still clutched in his hand--the key to your cuffs.
He opens the door, slipping through without another word.
...
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / [part 6] / part 7 / part 8
more Soap / masterlist tag
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hgfictionwriter · 11 hours
Text
Fantasy
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie finds out you have a kink. Turns out, she has the same one. You explore this new facet of your relationship.
Warning: Serious smut. Role playing. Impreg / breeding kink. Language. If this isn’t your thing, please don’t read. Definitely NSFW!
A/N: Okay, y'all. We are deep into kink territory here lol. Not sure how much appeal this has, but here we are! Anon - this one's for you.
"Hey, thanks for waiting," Jessie said as she came up to you after the game and gave you a quick kiss.
"Of course," you said as you distractedly received the kiss.
"You good?" Jessie asked as she pulled back with a frown.
It took a moment for you to register her question and you closed your eyes briefly as you refocused. You opened them again with a small smile.
"Yeah, everything's fine," you tried to assure her. She wasn't fooled and the frown remained fixed on her face.
"Babe..."
You sighed briefly, eyes darting around momentarily to see if anyone was within earshot. Her gaze remained trained on you and yours dropped to your feet as you fidgeted.
"I-I don't know," you said, lifting your gaze to meet hers once more. You gave a tight smile. "Can we talk about it later?"
Jessie pulled her head back slightly in confusion, but offered a small nod. "Yeah. Okay. You have me worried...but okay."
"It's nothing to worry about. I promise," you told her and you meant it. It really wasn't worth her fretting about it.
You drove back to your apartment and had dinner together. You talked easily enough, but there was a veil of unspoken tension between you even as you sat on the couch together watching a show. You could feel Jessie discretely watching you now and then out of the corner of her eye. Eventually, you sighed.
"Babe. I can feel you watching me," you told her.
She clicked her tongue and let out a short huff. "Well, I'm just curious about what was going on earlier."
"Oh my God. Not that again," you complained lightly, as if there was any question as to what was causing the friction between you today.
"You said we'd talk later," she ventured. You scratched the back of your neck and could feel the nervousness start to build within your throat.
"I'm sorry. It's nothing. Really." You tried to deflect.
"It's obviously not nothing," she countered, angling her body towards you now.
"Oh my God. Jess - this is way overblown now." You were muttering more to yourself than to her as you rubbed your face.
"Then just tell me," she implored. "You've been off since the game."
You sighed in exasperation, letting your hands fall heavily to your lap with a dull slap.
"I was just distracted and in my head," you said quickly, your tone curt.
"Okay. But why?" Jessie asked slowly.
"Oh my God," you repeated as you grew more flustered. You could feel heat starting to rise to your cheeks, much to your chagrin.
"Babe, what's going on?" Jessie asked, both confused and now intrigued by your mannerisms.
"Jesus," you breathed somewhat harshly as you rolled your eyes and swiftly turned to her, speaking very matter of fact now. "I just saw you walking out onto the pitch with that mascot and it got my mind going. Okay?"
She paused momentarily and you could see her trying to comprehend what you were getting at. She conceded. "Going about what?"
Your face burned and you averted your gaze briefly before answering. "About having a baby with you." You held your breath for a second before forging on. "And maybe even more-so the act of how that could come to be."
She frowned at you. "IVF?"
"No! Oh my God." You buried your face in your hands before pulling back with a deep breath. You could feel the confusion radiating off of Jessie. You laid your hands flat on your lap and turned to her more fully. You spoke calmly this time.
"I mean...that my mind was wandering to thoughts of how hot it would be if you," you paused for a few moments, rapidly debating if you truly wanted to finish your thought, "were to get me pregnant."
Jessie's mouth opened slightly and she stared at you with wide eyes now. "Oh." She said.
You watched in trepidation as the wheels in her head turned. She eventually cocked her head slightly and gave you a faint frown.
"I can't though," she said slowly and you released a barely audible, but enduring breath through your nose.
"I realize that," you said simply. She continued to look at you and you gave her a slight look of defeat with a slow shake of your head. "Work with me, please."
She narrowed her eyes at you before raising an eyebrow just so. It was more curious than judgmental. "Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"
You bit your lip nervously. "That depends on if you're into it, too."
A beat passed.
"If I would be into pumping a baby inside of you?" She asked in a tone that didn't remotely reflect the message of her words. You gave her a visibly shocked look - completely caught off guard by her directness.
"Too much?" She asked with a look of concern.
"No!" You practically stammered. "No." You smiled now, a new blush forming across your cheeks. "That's exactly what I'm hoping for."
"So," Jessie started, voice low as she gave you a smug smirk and patiently leaned in and began laying slow kisses along your jawline. "You'd be into me pinning you down, spreading your legs for me, and letting me fuck my baby into you."
"Holy fuck," you breathed, suddenly short of breath and wetness already pooling in your underwear. You brought you hand up to run your fingers through her hair. "Yes. I would."
Jessie reached a hand down, snaking it between your thighs that were squeezed together in a vain attempt to ease your tension. She cupped your heat through your pants and nipped lightly at your neck.
"Mmm, I can already tell how much you'd like that," she teased. You opened your legs a touch to make room for her and she stroked you firmly through the fabric. "How about we give it a go now?"
You could feel yourself growing wetter and you bit back a moan. You pulled your head back a bit to look at her.
"Are you sure?"
She smirked at you, though she continued to rub you through your clothes and you had to suppress the need to gasp in pleasure.
"It's not like you're going to actually get pregnant," she said. You rolled your eyes, half in exasperation, half in pleasure.
"I know that. But still..."
She smiled tenderly at you now and gave you a kiss before leaning forward to whisper in your ear.
"I've thought about it too. There have been so many times when you orgasm under me or on top of me and I wish I was shooting inside of you. I just didn't think you'd be into it."
"Oh my God," you said, eyes shutting at her words and the visual. "That is making me so wet - you have no idea."
Jessie stood and grasped your hands to pull you up. She placed her hands on your hips and kissed your neck.
"I'd like to find out."
Jessie led you to the bedroom and soon had you naked and laid out on your back on the bed, your head on the pillow. She crawled up the bed and over you, slinking towards you like some kind of skillful predator. She nudged your legs apart, her strap resting against your hot, soaking core.
"Why do you want my babies?" She asked in a sultry voice as she began to pepper slow kisses the ridge of your ear, her powerful arms and shoulders flexing as she leaned down over you.
You let out a short, distracted laugh. "Well, they'd be really fucking cute, first off. But, I-I-," you stammered as she slowly moved her hips and her strap began to slide teasingly through your lips. "I guess it'd be a way for you to choose me. Own me, even. Picking me to carry your babies."
"Mmhm," she concurred as she continued to tease you. She drew her hips back and angled herself, when she dropped her hips back down, she slowly slipped inside of you. You threw your head back, a delayed gasp escaping your open mouth at how she began to fill you.
"You'd like that, hm?" She continued to speak slowly in your ear. "Not only do I pick you to have my cock. But I pick you to have my babies as well. I like that, too."
"Oh God, Jess," you crooned as she slowly drew back, leaving you momentarily empty before steadily surging forward to fill you once more, letting out a soft grunt as her hips made contact with yours.
"Who knows," she whispered again, "maybe even the first time is an accident. We're just so hot for each other one night that we fuck - you forgot to take your pill, we're too in the moment to grab a condom - I tell you I'm going to pull out, but it's too much for both of us." She picked up her pace, pumping into you with a slightly faster, steady rhythm. "I tell you I'm about to cum-"
"I tell you to cum inside of me." You cut her off. She released a shuddering breath in your ear, her rhythm faltering momentarily before she started thrusting into you with greater vigor, the bed now starting to shift with each stroke.
"Fuck," she breathed. You wrapped your legs around her waist. "Yes, babe. Your legs wrapping around me so I can't pull out even if I wanted to. I don't though. All I think about is how I want to cum as deep inside of you as possible. Consequences be damned."
"Jessie, oh my God. You are so fucking hot," you told her as you rotated your hips up in time with her strokes to meet her. "This feels so incredible."
Jessie grunted and reached down with one hand to grab your ass and lift your hips to meet hers with greater fervour. You moaned at the action and she panted above you, more stray hairs now falling out of her ponytail and framing her face.
"God, I love you," she said.
"I love you, too," you replied, breathless as you dug your fingers into the firm muscles of her back. "You fuck me so good, Jessie. It's better and better every single time."
Another short grunt escaped Jessie, an expression of pure focus on her face as she pumped into you harder. The sounds of her skin hitting yours filled the room amongst the sounds of her strap pistoning in and out of your wetness.
A high moan escaped you as you tucked your head against her shoulder as the pleasure was mounting. "I'm so close."
"Me too," she said. "God, I want to pump you full of my cum and give you my baby."
"Oh my God, Jessie. Yes. Please - fill me up," you begged. She pressed herself closer to you and bounced her hips against you expertly.
"I can't wait to see you swell with our baby," she said. "You'd look so beautiful. When you start to show, so round and full, everyone will know it was me who did that to you. They'll know that I'm the one you let do that to you."
"Oh fuck, Jessie." You called her name as you began to pulse around her strap. You tossed your head back, your eyes screwed shut as you dug your nails into her skin. Jessie groaned as you came around her. She held her pace steady until you started to relax and she began to slow to a stop.
She laid on top of you, holding you, for some time, laying languid, sweet kisses along your crown as you worked to catch your breath. She eventually sat up to pull out and she raised her eyebrows, looking both pleased and surprised.
"Holy shit," she said with a light laugh. You sat up and looked where she was on the mattress and immediately felt heat settling on your face.
"That's so fucking hot," she told you with a series of approving nods about the pool of arousal on the sheets. She leaned in and kissed you before you could get too self-conscious. "I think we've discovered a new go-to." She kissed you again. "I loved it. And you were so sexy."
You rolled your eyes, but was grateful for her openness.
"Jesus Christ," you said, still short of breath as you sat forward and wrapped your arms around her. "If we were straight we'd be in some serious trouble." Jessie laughed.
"Depends on your definition of trouble," she smirked. "But I agree, we'd have really, really cute kids."
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AITA for making a post about an adult making a sexual comment under one of my sfw work posts as a minor?
FYI, sorry for any bad spelling, I have really bad dyslexia.
(🐶👀❤️ for future finding)
Cw for sexual comments to a child, online harassment, and mentions of grooming.
Just for context this didn’t happen on tumblr, this all happened on twitter (yes yes the Elon musk rat site that we all hate) and I’m putting this here because I use both twitter and tumblr and I want a second opinion.
here’s the characters before we start
Me, (17 trans masc)
nsfw account (22 they/them)
so recently I posted a tweet that was a fun fact type tweet about a character from a show I like. Along the lines of “this character can play the tuba!”
Then a 18+ account (this will come up later) replied with “he must have a strong mou*gets shot*”
this is a common meme format but it was obviously nsfw in nature. Now don’t get me wrong, I am in a fandom for a more mature show and understand 18+ accounts may engage with me, and not check my bio. But putting a blatantly under a sfw post and not even bothering to check for my age is just- really disgusting. Not to mention this account had replied and liked many of my tweets.
I gave it a few hours to see if they would correct the obvious mistake, cuz sometimes I back track and realize a mistake, correct it and move on.
but nothing, radio silence. So I replied to their comment stating they had made me incredibly uncomfortable and that I was a child, and then made a small post since a few my adult mutuals follow them (for context I have like 100 followers and they have over a thousand)
it wasn’t a “call out post” just a simple “hay this person did something wrong and I’m telling my tiny bubble of people because some of you happened to follow” I wasn’t trying to get anyone canceled basically.
I didn’t put their @ in the post directly, just a screen shot of the inappropriate replay and their profile showing some mutuals follow.
they then quote retweeted me, telling me “I could have just blocked them and moved on, and that this is a 18+ fandom so I shouldn’t even be here” (it’s actually a 16+ show but whatever)
mutable of their followers processed to gang up on me and tell me I was a pathetic and should leave the internet forever, repeating with the person had said in their quote retweet when ever I tried to argue.
I ended up having to full on private my account because I was so triggered (I’m a grooming victim so this whole situation made me feel almost sick)
I know the person fucked up, but was the post not ok? At first it felt like it was warranted but now I’m second-guessing myself and thinking that I might be the one in the wrong. Should I have just done what they wanted and blocked and moved on?
AITA?
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entropyvoid · 3 days
Text
So anyway my hot take about the bit where Sunday is taking you on a guided tour through a dramatic play about the history of Penacony is that the confusion of him narrating over the story so you can’t parse what’s goin on is that it’s actually an EXCELLENT creative choice in interactive storytelling actually, because that whole scene isn’t really about Penacony’s past, present, or future, it’s about cult programming. Sunday’s goal is not for you to witness a dramatization of Penacony’s history and form your own thoughts and opinions about it, his goal is a last ditch effort to get you to share HIS specific perspective.
He talks over the story to tell you what’s happening, giving his conclusions from the get-go and sometimes even saying things that seem to directly contradict what he’s speaking over, but by the time you can even parse it, it’s gone and you’re left with little to do but move on. It’s overwhelming and makes it very difficult to form a coherent thought about it, much less a proper refutation to his arguments. It is a tactic intended to melt your brain and repeatedly hit it with a hammer of his view - the only reasonable view. So reasonable that it doesn’t even seem to occur to him that someone might have an opposing interpretation that’s logical, (more on this later,) he’s not open to new ideas, he is so completely and utterly set in his philosophy that he takes a chance in trying to hold your hand through it and explain it to you because he believes that if he just talks you through it, you’ll see the light. He is trying to convert others into to accepting the Order. Inducing mental exhaustion combined with repeating a specific philosophy, backed with an narrative to make it feel credible over and over again until your brain is too fried to do anything but accept if is a pretty common brainwashing tactic. For the devs to actually manage to induce that direct feeling in the players within the safety of fiction is actually a really impressive feat.
And he probably isn’t even really taking the specific approach he does consciously, rather, he is likely repeating some of the tactics that Gopher Wood put him through. Gopher, probably the closest thing Sunday had to a parental figure after his mother’s death, is an entity with no physical form that’s practically nigh omniscient and omnipresent within the dreamscape, is able to take over the bodies of anyone within the Oak family (possibly without their knowledge or without them remembering it?) and has been looking after Sunday from a young age. Firstly, we see them employing very similar (conversational? Argumentative?) styles. From the scene about the rehabilitated bird, we see Gopher giving a very scientific but ultimately leading explanation of natural selection (and the inherent cruelty of nature that Sunday heavily internalizes and repeats further down the line,) then poses a question that seems very open: what do you want to do about it? What do you want to do with this fucked up little fledgling that can’t fly? In his inner world, Sunday presents you with this, and several other personal experiences intended to lead you to a particular answer, then calmly asks you what decision you would’ve made in his place, in a way very reminiscent of how Gopher himself spoke to Sunday and Robin.
Sunday’s answer, to build a cage for the bird so it could live”no matter what,” happens to have aligned pretty well with the philosophies of the Order, and the quick unfortunate end the bird met when it was later released solidified his desire to protect via control, and proved to be a very formative experience for him. I think it’s highly plausible that this an early illustration of Sunday’s cult grooming already taking root, or at the very least, of Gopher fishing for a kid who’s open and susceptible to it. Gopher, seemingly being Sunday’s sole direct conspirator, is almost certainly the one who guided him on the path of worshipping the Order, while also making Sunday feel like it was his idea.
We don’t see too much in the way of interactions between Gopher and Sunday beyond that, so we’ll have to fill in the gaps - but Gopher is shown to be constantly watching over the schemes Sunday is involved in via possession of birds long before we actually learn who he is. He is always there, always watching, he can instantly overtake the will of others (so long as they’re in the Oak family - but that’s abt 1/5th of Penacony’s population and the group Sunday is a part of and thus most surrounded by,) and despite seeming very calm and reasonable, he’s clearly not above shutting people down through direct metal suppression if their questions start to pose any kind of a threat. When Welt’s questions became too direct and poignant, leading to him and Robin realizing that Gopher and Sunday were followers of Ena rather than Xipe, Gopher quickly commands Sunday to use his own mental suppression powers on them (since they’re both outside of Gopher’s control,) and Sunday does not hesitate. I have to wonder - how many times has Gopher potentially used this on Sunday, or any of the people around Sunday who got a little too close to presenting him with ideas that challenged the Order’s philosophy? It would not only be extremely easy for him to isolate Sunday intellectually while retaining his status as the sole voice of reason, but also likely, given that protection through control and domination is kind of the whole theme of the Order. (Or at least - Gopher and Sunday’s interpretation of it.) We can thus extrapolate that Gopher may’ve likely used other tactics of manipulation and control on Sunday that we haven’t seen, but which Sunday may imitate, such as in the segment with him narrating over the play about Penacony’s history.
And Sunday, clearly, is extremely isolated, long before he tres to pull his little stunt that ends in him as the lone awake person in an eternal dreamworld. Aside from Gopher, who can’t really be called on and only shows up when he feels like it, the only person he has to confide in is his sister Robin, but Sunday has long since internalized his whole “the strong protect the weak, and they protect the weak through control” bit to the extent that he tries very hard to shelter her from the things he sees as dangerous and painful. He doesn’t tell her about what happened to the bird (though she figured it out on her own anyway,) he doesn’t tell her a damn thing about his lil Ena cult, and he most certainly does not tell her about his doubts, his troubles, or the emotional weight of hearing about the worst of humanity (like that guy who sold his kids for a ticket) through the confessional booth day in and day out with a script that just says “Xipe forgives you.”
And Robin is, frankly, way stronger and smarter than her brother seems to give her any damn credit for. She’s left Penacony to tour the universe, and she headed into a warzone to help in the process, got shot in the throat, and kept singing after recovery. She’s experienced so much more of the universe than Sunday has, she’s had actual conversations with people about their problems that were not one-sided and driven by some sort of ulterior motive. She’s been the first to pick apart his faulty logic or catch on to him hiding something every time, (whether she mentions it in the moment or not,) she was the first to realize something was wrong and wake up in the end, and she ultimately rallied everyone to save her brother from himself. Had Sunday confided in her, talked about deeper life philosophies with her, shared his thoughts and feelings with her, not been isolated or isolated himself from her, treated her like she was just as strong as he was, things may have turned out very different.
Who’s really more sheltered? Robin, or her brother who tried to protect her from it all?
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geckoomoria · 2 days
Note
friends to lovers trope w jj, but its the type of love where they both dont know that theyre both in love with eachother and they just casually flirt w eachother, but their friends r always like 👀 whenever they flirt or when jj like helps her or whatever, also everytime jj does something for reader, she always blushes but tries to hide it (going thru this shit rn 😃😅)
I love u for asking this omg.
i wanna add that they both deny it a lot and they just wont admit it to themselves.
this ones a bit long…
i hope this lives up to ur standards 😪
Just friends - Jj Maybank x reader
————————————-★————————————-
Saturday August 17th
9:00pm
YOU HAD JUST ARRIVED at a local beach party , looking around to find anyone you recognized.
yelling out an occasional “sorry!!” or “excuse me!” as you pushed past the main entrance of the beach house to get to the living room.
the house was so crowded you barley knew if you were headed in the right direction. As you backed up to let someone pass by you, you bumped into someone from behind.
“i am so sorr- oh Jj.” is what you said as you turned to apologize to the person that happened to be Jj maybank.
The scowl on the blondes face quickly reverted as he realized you were the one who bumped into him , a grin and opened eyes had appeared instead.
“ah so if its me you wont say sorry” he said while looking you up and down taking in your appearance. black denim shorts , long black thin socks that stopped mid thigh and a fitted dark red short sleeve top that had a sweetheart neckline.
to put it in short terms , you looked hot as fuck.
you find the corners of your lips turning as he spoke , it wasn’t uncommon for you and Jj to shamelessly flirt like this. Everyone could see you had a thing for each-other but both denied and claimed to be “just good friends”.
“well Maybank , i guess that says something about you” you responded still looking at the grinning boy.
“you wound me sweetheart” he said while dramatically placing a hand over his heart and acted as if he was in pain. You could feel the blush creeping onto your face.
“i try as much as i can darling” the words rolled off your lips as you kept up with his flirty game
The two of you stand still amongst the crowd of partiers as you stare into each others eyes, the sudden silent tension engulfing you two.
Abruptly it was broken as a pair of thin arms threw themselves over your neck , it was Kiara. “Y/n! i was looking all over for you, pope thought you weren’t coming” she claimed as she rolled her eyes at another mutual friend of yours , Pope.
“i didn’t say she wasn’t coming , i said i dont think she was coming on TIME.” Pope corrected back quite sassily as he gave you a side hug himself.
Jjs eyes had been kept on you the entire time, he didn’t even want to look away for a second.
“yeah yeah but still you doubted her and it wouldn’t be a party without Y/n ,right jj? kiara stated as the two pogues looked at their blonde headed friend. He was silent , still staring at you. His attention was only brought back when your eyes met his again.
“y-yeah wouldn’t be a party without ya” He said finally looking away for a second and looking back. The other two didn’t miss his reaction. You all walked over to where the drinks were kept and needless to say everyone was DRUNK. You all decided to sit outside on the steps.
15 minutes later
“hey wheres John B?” you question about the missing pogue from the friend group , “said he had to work for ward tonight but we all know what that means” Kiara answers before taking a sip of her beer.
You raise an eyebrow letting them know that you in fact didn’t know what it meant. “means he’s getting it on with the Kook queen , Babe ” Jj replies.
Pope and Kiara groan in disgust as your eyes widen at his words. “Wait what?! he actually has a thing going on with Sarah Cameron? Sarah Cameron who you hate” you say pointing at Kiara, “and who’s brother hates you?!” you say pointing at Jj.
“Damn straight” Kiara spits out, “Yes Ma’am” Jj replies before taking a chug of his drink, its clear none of them really liked the idea of him being with a Kook, Sarah Cameron of all people.
“God i told him to-“ Kiara’s rambling was cut off in your head as Jjs legs brushed against yours , feeling his body heat. It should have felt like nothing , friends are okay with being touchy right?
But you couldn’t ignore it as neither one of you moved your legs, what was this weird feeling inside of you?
You glance at his face only for him to be looking at you first , a stare across both your faces. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Pope who’s sitting on the steps above you two.
“Uh Kie im gonna grab another drink , you coming?” He cuts off her rambling about John B and Sarah in hopes of leaving you and Jj together.
Shes too drunk to notice whats going on so she mindlessly agrees and gets up to grab another bottle, leaving you and Jj alone on the steps.
Silence is the only thing between you two right now , absolutely no space. Arm to arm , leg to leg and shoulder to shoulder.
minutes goes by before Jj starts to laugh a bit, “whats so funny?” you ask curiously.
“i was just thinkin”
“about?”
he takes a sigh before answering “remember that time we didn’t talk for three whole days cause of the spider?”. You don’t remember at first but eventually the memory sparks back. “Oh Sally.” you say bitterly.
“you gave it a name???”
“uhm SHE lived with me for a week i think SHE deserved a name!” you sternly say emphasizing the she in your sentence.
you could feel the atmosphere’s tensions rising as you started to argue in a petty manner.
“you got so mad at me when i accidentally stepped on her”
“you killed my roommate Maybank , what was i supposed to do!”
“IT WAS A SPIDER!” , “SHE WAS A SPIDER , SHE”
you two had pointless arguments for no reason all the time to go along with all the flirting.
you huff as tick marks appear on your forehead and the same happened with Jj. The silence once again appeared after your loud voices went quiet.
“didn’t even pay for her funeral asshole” you mutter under your breath as you take another sip of your drink. You look at Jj and the two of you shared a silent look that lasted for a second.
You both burst out laughing, unable to catch your breaths, eventually after a few moments it dies down , “you’re something else princess” He says , chuckles still underlying his voice.
Him calling you suggestive nicknames was normal but lately its been feeling more than just a silly nickname.
“yeah well only you would know” you reply resting your chin under your palm and turning your head to face him. “thats right , papa j knows ya best” Jj says with some sense of pride puffing his chest.
“ugh y’know everytime you call yourself that , a little piece of me dies on the inside” you groan and roll your eyes at the stupid nickname Jj set for himself.
He starts laughing again at your words , you gave him a sense of comfort he’s never been familiar with.
He found himself constantly yearning for your presence and in moments of joy , he knew the only thing to make it better was if you were there.
Jjs tried convincing himself that it was normal to think of friends constantly and that its just his impulsive thoughts that thought of you in that way.
but the more he denied it to both others and himself , the more he craved you.
At the same time you felt similar things , thinking you were weird for even viewing your close friend like that. That he was just like that to everyone and that it was your head just spinning the truth.
But every-time you denied and brushed off the dating rumours , deep down you felt a twinge at the heart when you remembered they weren’t true.
Unconsciously shifting closer, your faces are inches from each-other. His eyes glued to your lips , the two of you reek of alcohol and the tensions never been higher.
Your heart beats rapidly as he moves in to attempt to kiss you but thats all it remained.
An attempt.
The moment was unexpectedly stopped as Pope burst through the door from above, stopping the two of you from what was about to happen.
“Guys Kie is like out of her mind drunk and she tried beating up her own reflection in the mirror so i think its time to go home” he says with a drunk Kiara slung over his shoulder not even realizing what he interrupted.
The blush on your face is replaced with a similar tone of red out of embarrassment, you get up not even looking at Jj to help Pope with Kiara.
“God that did not just happen” you think repeatedly
The car ride was just awkward silence as Pope who was the most sober at the moment drove to John Bs place since no one could scold your intoxicated selves there.
You avoid Jj like the plague when breaking in entering John Bs house , placing Kiara on the spare bed , Pope on the couch , you sleeping beside Kiara and Jj on a old recliner chair.
After voicing a Goodnight to Pope , you can’t find the courage to say anything to Jj as he sits there deep in thought. You wanted to say something, anything to change the weird feeling between you two but nothing would come out of your mouth.
You just lay beside Kiara’s sleeping figure in the dark, unable to sleep after tonight.
To be continued…
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wow that was long , I LOVED THIS REQUEST AND LIKE PLS GIVE ME MORE GUYS. ABOUT MORE CHARACTERS IN OTHER SHOWS/ MOVIES
if u liked this pls lemme know so i can start on part 2.
i love gaining mutuals guys cmon 😓
hes so hot omfg
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rottenpumpkin13 · 6 hours
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Whats happens when the boys™️ go camping on the beach?
Things That Happen At The Beach, A List
• The seagulls see Cloud as an easy target and attack him for his food. Zack rushes in to defend his buddy and ends up fist fighting a seagull. Zack loses.
• Sephiroth tries to relax in the sand and read a book, but Angeal's continuous use of a metal detector to "hunt for goods" nearby is giving him anxiety.
• Genesis is going on a drink run and is offering to get everyone else something too.
Genesis: Would you like a sex on the beach?
Sephiroth, not knowing it's a drink: I thought you'd never ask.
• Zack has gripped a seagull by the neck and is refusing to let go. The other seagulls are getting increasingly more agitated. Cloud pleads with Zack to let it go. Zack claims that the only way to deal with the seagulls is to "assert dominance"
• Genesis ia trying to take aesthetic pictures of himself for social media and doesn't notice that in half of them, Sephiroth is in the background losing a battle with a melting ice cream cone.
• Angeal is looking for the guitar he brought to sing campfire songs. Genesis burned it to build a fire. Angeal retaliates by burning Genesis' books in that very bonfire. The last anyone saw Angeal and Genesis they were trying to drown each other in the ocean.
• Sephiroth brings a book that aids in identifying crab species and a camera to catalogue them. Sephiroth finds a crab. He takes a photo of the crab with the flash on. This bothers the crab. The crab attacks him. Sephiroth flings the crab into the ocean. Sephiroth feels guilty and goes into the ocean to retrieve the crab.
• Sephiroth and Genesis try playing with a frisbee for fun. Sephiroth underestimated his own strength and ended up knocking Genesis out with the frisbee. When Angeal finds them, Genesis is still knocked out and Sephiroth is digging a Genesis-sized hole in the sand.
Angeal: ......
Sephiroth: I panicked.
Angeal: Oh my god.
• The seagulls are encircling Zack and Cloud. Cloud lights a beach towel on fire to try to ward them off.
• AGS go on a banana boat for fun. The boat driver warns them that if they don't hang on, they'll fall off. Genesis is the first to claim "Ha! We're SOLDIER. As if we can be bested by an inflatable water sled." On the first wave all three of them are violently thrown into the ocean. Genesis was the first to go and knocked Angeal and Sephiroth like bowling pins.
• Angeal finally intervenes and chases the seagulls away. He gives Genesis, Sephiroth and Cloud the task of fishing for their cookout while Zack helps him prepare.
Angeal: You guys know how to fish, right?
Sephiroth: Definitely. (Liar)
Cloud: Absolutely. (Liar)
Genesis: Of course (embellisher of the truth)
• 1 hour later they come back with Cloud tangled in a fishing line, Genesis with a small fish, and Sephiroth with a big fish. Genesis is fuming because he claims Sephiroth "invaded his fishing space and caught the fish that Genesis was meant to catch."
• Genesis and Sephiroth go paddle boarding for fun but end up having a makeshift sword duels with their paddles in the middle of the ocean. Genesis hits Sephiroth in the knees. This Angers Sephiroth. Genesis now has a total of 2 minutes to make it to shore before Sephiroth catches up to him and drowns him.
• Angeal wants to take some nice group photos to remember this day forever. They're in the middle of a nice group pose when the horde of seagulls come back for revenge.
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pre11yyy · 12 hours
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Synopsis: Mark got short of money so he decided to take jeno's idea of trying porn into consideration
A.N: i don't really know how porn works so everything here is made up, also i forgot to a point that this was supposed to be porn so there is that.
Mark has been running short of money lately, so short, none of his part time jobs were enough for his college titutions neither they were enough to pay for his rent, he sighed resting his head on the single black sofa thinking about what he can do, he chew on his lower lip recalling his friend's Jeno words yesterday "what about acting in porn?" the later asked making Mark widen his eyes in disbelieve from the words that left his friend, his ears red "wtf do you mean dude no" he was quick to shut the offer down. But now he couldn't help but think about it.
He had heard stories about people earning so much in a single shoot, he wasn't a virgin but he had never had sex with someone he didn't know, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so he decided to call Jeno and ask for more information about the job. Jeno was quick to answer the phone. "Hey, I was starting to think you had changed your mind about that offer." Mark felt a little embarrassed, but he had to face reality. "No, I'm still interested. I just… needed some time to think about it, I guess." "Well, you came to the right place," Jeno replied with a chuckle. "I've got some connections in the industry, and I can get you an audition for one of the biggest production companies around. They're always looking for new talent." "Really?" Mark asked, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Really. Just meet me at the coffee shop tomorrow at noon, and I'll give you all the details you need." "Okay," Mark agreed, hanging up the phone. He sat there for a moment, still unable to believe that he was actually considering this.
But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a real possibility. And if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. He would give it his all, just like he always did. The day of the audition came, Mark had no idea what they r gonna make him do in this audition, lucky for him that Jeno knew one of the guys that he introduced him to as Jaemin, he was quick to reassure Mark about everything, scanning him from head to toe before encouraging him to come to the audition. "So,What do you need me to do?" Mark asked, trying to hide his nervousness. Jaemin smiled, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "Well, We just want to see how you handle yourself on camera. We need you to follow my instructions, and do exactly what I tell you. Understood?" Mark nodded, taking a deep breath. "Understood." "Great. Now, why don't you get comfortable?" Jaemin motioned for him to sit on the black leather chair in the center of the room. "Just close your eyes and relax. I'm going to give you some directions through your earpiece."
Mark closed his eyes, taking a moment to compose himself. He could feel the weight of the earpiece in his ear, and the gentle hum of Jaemin's voice as he began to give him instructions. "Okay… Mark… take a deep breath. Now, slowly exhale…" As he followed Jaemin's instructions, Mark felt himself beginning to relax. His heart rate slowed down, and his muscles loosened. He was ready. Or at least he thought so before Jaemin's next words hit him like a ton of bricks.
"All right, Mark. Time to strip for the camera and jerk off." What the hell? As much as Mark knew this is what the job is about he couldn't help the shock he felt, he has never done anything like this in front of anyone before, he cleared his throat reminding himself that he needs the money , this is his only shot to make it out of this hole he dug himself into, and he has to do it. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, revealing his toned abs and broad chest. Then he slid off his pants, revealing his boxer briefs, which were already starting to bulge. He hesitated for a moment, but then continued, unfastening his belt and lowering his underwear. His cock sprang free, hard as a rock, and he couldn't help but feel self-conscious about it.
"That's it, Mark. You're doing great," Jaemin encouraged him through the earpiece. "Just keep going, and remember to make it look realistic." With a deep breath, Mark began to stroke himself, trying to mimic the movements he had seen in porn. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of his hand gliding up and down his shaft, and the anticipation of the inevitable release. As he continued, he could feel the tension building within him. His breathing became labored, and his muscles tensed. He knew he was close, but he had to hold on for just a little longer. He could hear Jaemin's voice in his ear, guiding him through each thrust, each caress.
Finally, he felt the familiar tightening in his abdomen, and the warmth spreading through his body. He moaned softly as he released his load, shooting thick, white ropes of cum across the room. His muscles relaxed, and he collapsed back into the chair, spent. He opened his eyes, blinking away the last remnants of the orgasm. Jaemin was watching him intently from across the room, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Very good, Mark. You will definitely work for us" Jaemin was impressed by the man's cock and expressions, having already a vision of how many people will come searching for his videos in the future . "Thank you," Mark managed to say between ragged breaths not really sure about what he is thanking the man about but he had to say something. "Don't mention it. Now, why don't you go ahead and get dressed? We'll talk about the next steps once you're ready." Gratefully, Mark stood up and began to dress. As he did, he couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed after seeing the mess he made on the leather chair but he shook it off quickly, following one of the staff to another waiting room where other contestants were sitting . He took a deep breath, and tried to compose himself, waiting for someone to tell him what would happen next.
"Mark?" a familiar voice said, and he looked up to see Jeno standing beside him. "You did great in there." "Thanks," Mark managed to reply, still feeling a little shaky. "I hope so." Jeno smiled reassuringly and squeezed his shoulder. "Trust me, you killed it. You're going to be perfect for this job." He paused, then added with a wink, "And don't worry about the mess you made. They clean up after everyone." Mark couldn't help but laugh a little at that. "Okay," he said, feeling a little more at ease. "Thanks, Jeno. I really appreciate it." They sat in silence for a moment, just watching the others in the room. Finally, one of the staff members approached them and informed them about the last test which was for them to fuck a woman, Mark was so nervous, it has been so long since he has been laid or even thought about sex with someone else, he couldn't help but worry about his performance. "Don't worry about it," Jeno whispered to him. "You'll be fine. Just remember to enjoy it." And with that, the woman was brought in, and the final test began.
Mark was so nervous, he couldn't even remember your name. All he could focus on was your body as soon as he stepped in, seeing you laying on the bed in your whole glory, wearing only a red dress that left nothing to imagination, you turned your head upon hearing the door click and you couldn't help the sarcastic laugh that slipped out of you, you were sure that he is inexperienced just by the way he walked towards you, his steps hesitant and unsure. "You can take your time, sweetheart," you said with a smirk, your voice dripping with honey. Mark looked at you, his eyes wide with anticipation, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "I… I don't want to hurt you," he stammered. You laughed, a genuine, throaty sound that made his cock twitch. "Oh, don't worry about that. I can take care of myself." He nodded slowly, still unsure, but you could see the determination in his eyes. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling between your legs, you locked your eyes with his trying to seduce him and wanting just to get over this, sure that he won't do a good job but to your surprise he did.
Mark could feel his cock twitch at the way your were giving him attention his eyes wondering around your body not really sure where he should start with but remembering Jeno's words he followed his instincts trying to ignore the way the camera was on him. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, and then slowly began to make his way up your body. Your skin was so soft beneath his lips, and you let out a soft moan as he reached your breast. He cupped it in his hand, gently massaging your nipple through the fabric of your dress. "That's it," you whispered, arching your back. "Touch me." He took this as a go signal and slowly began to unbutton your dress, revealing more and more of your body to him. Your breasts were full and perfect, and he couldn't help but marvel at them. With one final pull, the dress fell to the floor, leaving you completely naked. "Fuck," he breathed, staring at your body. "You're so beautiful." You smiled, running your hands through his hair. "Thank you," you purred. "Now, why don't you show me what you've got?" your eyes drifted to the tent on his pants, biting your lips you dragged your foot over it seeing how he dropped his head to the back a small groan leaving his lips, you smirked he looks big and you were so curious to see if you were right or not . He looked up at you, eyes dark with lust and it made your insides clench, maybe just maybe he started to grow up on you, Jaemin ruined this moment signaling you to hurry up as there is more contestants coming in and he didn't want you two to be late. "Come here, Mark," you said, pulling him down to you. "Let's see what you can do." He didn't hesitate, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss as he pushed his pants down, freeing his cock. You wrapped your hands around him, marveling at how hard he already was so impressed by how heavy he felt in your hold, your insides throbbing with anticipation before you guided him towards you entrance, both of you let breathy moans as you felt him stretch you perfectly, your eyes already watering at his size . "Fuck, you feel so good," he moaned, thrusting deeper into you. "So tight." You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you felt him bottom out. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust, before pulling back and slamming hard into you again. "Yes," you cried, your head falling back, loving the feeling of him filling you so completely.
His pace was relentless, and you knew he was going to leave you sore and bruised, but that was the last thing you cared for, enjoying the stretch and focusing on the way he thrusts on you, your eyes rolled back, moaning constantly while Mark was basically on another dimension, loving the way you clench around him and the feeling of you dragging him down for a kiss. "Oh, God, I'm close," he panted, his rhythm becoming erratic and all the doubts he had about this job started fading away he'll definitely enjoy his job here, he find his hands going to wrap around your jaw, making you lock eyes with him and seeing the way you looked at him, biting your lip and moaning , he knew that this won't be the last time, he'll make sure to keep you coming back to him, he'll make sure to get into this contract and be your personal toy.
"Me too," you said, arching your back and grinding down on him. "m s-so fucking close" everything about you was so pornographic from the way you moaned to your facial expressions, everything was driving him crazy and Mark couldn't help himself, he wanted to ruin you, he wanted you to scream his name and collapse under him. With a harsh cry, your body tensed and you came, your inner muscles gripping him tightly as your release spilled around him. He followed close behind, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself into you. "Fuck," he groaned, collapsing on top of you, breathing heavily. You wrapped your arms around him, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm pulsing through you. "That was… intense," you panted. That was the last time you've met Mark, he got accepted to the company yet your schedules never aligned and that was a shame cause none of people you had after him stretched you that good, every time you can't help it but imagine him instead… Months passed by and you started hearing a lot about him, you refused to check out his videos, scared? maybe! But you were more hopeful that you'll have a project together and you wanted to find out what changed, how good he has become, it was more thrilling for you this way and as if the universe had heard your prayers your manager had assigned you a project with Mark, you couldn't believe it, the stars were really aligned tonight.
Receiving the script that same morning your heart throbbed so hard from excitement , you had butterflies in your stomach and for the first time in a long time, you couldn't wait for the day to be over, for you two to meet again and for you to see if he's still as good as you remember.
And here you are, sitting in the makeup chair, wearing a small nurse dress, your boobs threatening to spill from the material, your hair down and wavy, a tiny ribbon tied around it. You're nervous, excited, and a bit anxious. "Almost done," the makeup artist says, finishing up with your lips. There was nothing out of ordinary in this makeup, it was leaning more to the natural side, but you still felt like a million bucks. Stepping out from you makeup room you noticed a more muscular figure back facing you while talking with Jaemin, an undercut black hair styled perfectly, the black button on hugging his body perfectly, highlighting his sculpted form, as it was tucked on his jeans, his waist so much smaller making him stand out, 'that's not Mark right?' there was no way he became this muscular in a short amount of time. Jaemin's voiced cut your thoughts signaling you to come in, the man next to him turned around as well and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched at the sight of Mark, more handsome than last time and most importantly his demeanor a lot different, more confident it was as if he was a different person. You felt his eyes scan your uniform, biting on his bottom lip as he take it in, before smiling at you . "You look great," he says, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back. "You're not so bad yourself," you tease, taking in his scent, something musky and earthy, and you can't help the way it makes your insides flutter, Jaemin smiled already loving the chemistry "you'll look so good in this video i can sense the hit" he smirked as he took in the tension between the both of you.
"You two know what to do" he said and left, letting you and Mark talk things out before filming. "How have you been?" you asked, feeling a little bit awkward after all those months,"I've been good, you?" he replied, still holding your hand. "I've been… fine," you shrugged. "So… you like the new look?" u gestured to the different color you died ur hair to,He smirked and ran his fingers through his hair. "I do, it suits you." "Thanks," you breathed out. "You look… different." u added and he chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah…I've been working out" he shrugged making you hum in response He tilted his head to the side, studying you, obviously hesitating to say something before he let it go "So, have you seen any of my videos since then?" You shake your head. "No, I've been avoiding them." you replied honestly and that made him raise an eyebrow. "Why?" curiosity very evident on his tone and it made you giggle,glancing away, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Well, i just wanted to discover how much u've improved since then live, you know.."
He smiled at that. "Sounds like you've waiting for this to happen" he gestured to the small studio you r in right now, a bunch of medical equipment filling the space with a single bed in the center. "Well, I've been practicing. I've gotten better at…" he paused, his cheeks flushing a little. "You know." you chuckle at his flustered face nodding in understanding "yeah" you mumbled, shifting your hair the the other side, you could feel Mark's eyes bore into you, his gaze focused on your exposed neck looking forward to what will happen, the scenario playing on his head again, and again and again…
The staff were making sure to set the place perfectly, trying different angles in the camera to see which one works the best before signaling for you to start, Mark was sitting on the small bed which looked even smaller in contrasts with his bigger form, his hands playing with his phone waiting for you 'his nurse' to show up, with a deep breath you stepped in smiling while welcoming him, carrying a small medical kit in your hand. Mark put his phone away, returning your smile as you walked closer. "Hey, Mr Lee, how are you feeling today?" you ask, making sure to keep eye contact. He chuckled, his gaze lingering on your lips. "I'm good, thanks.how about you?"
"I'm doing great, actually." You set the medical kit down on the bedside table and turned bending over a little bit to get the 'thermometer' that fall 'accidentally', flashing your whole ass to the camera and to Mark as your small dress rode up, his eyes scanning your backside as you stood back up, he swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled, trying to not give anything away. "It seems like you're doing a lot better." you tried to soften your voice turning back to him helping him to pull up his sleeves, his arm revealing his toned and muscular biceps, making you want to touch them. "Oh definitely" He replied, his eyes staring at ur cleavage that was presented deliciously in front of him, his pants tightening in arousal, his hand twitches, wanting to touch it, to feel it,
"So, let's get started." You say, taking his hand and leaning him down to the bed, your breasts almost touching his arm. "I need to take your temperature first." "Oh, alright." He nods, his grip on your hand tightening. Once he's lying down, you climb onto the bed as well, straddling his waist. Your hair cascades over his chest, and you can feel his breath hot against your neck as you reach up to take his temperature.
As you take his temperature, your breasts brush against his chest, and you feel his hands snake around to gently grope them through your shirt. He sucks in a breath, his hips bucking against yours in silent invitation. The feel of his strong, warm body beneath you sends a shiver down your spine. But you had to follow the script, trying to pull away from his grasp his hands keeping you tightly from moving, his lips whispering loud enough for the mics to pick "Don't act like you don't like it, you've been teasing me since i came in here, you're my nurse and it's your duty to take care of me, don't u agree?" You moan,despite you shaking your head in disagreement, pushing him away, Mark scoffed his hand going to wrap around your hair tugging at it to expose your neck, his free hand traveling to the front of your dress, groping your breast through the material harshly, your head falling back as he does.
"That's more like it" he groaned as another moan escaped ur lips, his fingers working harder on ur nipples twisting and tugging at the bud on top of the dress, his other hand still tangled in your hair, his tongue traced your earlobe making you shiver "You pretend like you don't want to get fucked yet look at you not even wearing a bra, such a dirty girl" "Please," you beg, arching into his touch.His lips ghosting over ur breasts wetting the fabric with is tongue as he took one nipple between his teeth, his free hand now cupping your ass and lifting you onto him, his hard cock pressing directly into your core.
"God you're wet" he growled, feeling your wetness through his pants,his fingers sliding down under ur panties parting your folds, finding your clit already hard and swollen. His fingers teased you, circling your bud for a few seconds, before he carried you making you sit on his face, his tongue lapping at your wetness, your hands finding their way into his hair pulling at it slightly as he worked his tongue on your folds. "Oh fuck yes," you moan, grinding your hips down against his mouth, using him, rolling your eyes back and arching your back, enjoying his tongue lashing on ur cunt. "You taste so good, baby," he groans, his words vibrating through your body making you tighten your grip on his face choking him with your thighs.
Mark can feel himself getting lightheaded, his vision starting to blur, but he doesn't care. All he can think about is the way your pussy tastes and the way your body feels pressed against his. His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, and he can feel the blood rushing to his head. He moans against your clit,the vibrations send a shock wave after another one through your body, making you tremble with pleasure. "I'm going to cum," you warn him, and he doubles down, his tongue thrusting into your hole making you throw ur head back, he was so good at using his tongue his nose rubbing against your clit consistently.
"Mmm, yeah," he growls loving your taste, his voice muffled by your pussy."oh my god!" you cry out, your body shaking as you reach your climax, the pleasure rippling through you, your legs turning into jelly as you collapse on top of him. He takes in a shuddering breath, his mind spinning from the combination of the oxygen deprivation and the taste of your cum on his tongue. His cock is painfully hard, and he can feel it throbbing against his pants, desperate to be free and inside you. "Fuckkk" he groaned, his voice rough from the lack of air and the intense sensations that have just washed over him.
With shaking hands, he reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, tugging them and his boxers down to reveal his hardened cock. His eyes meet yours looking down at him with flushed face ur thighs resting between his head and it took everything from him to not bite on the soft flesh, he lifted you again, easily guiding you down to meet his hardness.
"Fuck into me" his voice was so commanding that it sent a shiver down your spine, his hands grabbing and squeezing your ass while his lips attached themselves to ur breasts again biting and sucking on ur nipples while keeping your dress on. "Oh God," you whimper, feeling his cock stretching you open, the same stretch you've been craving for, your hips bucking, ur hands digging into his shoulders as you try to take him in deeper. "Fuck yeah," Mark groans, his hips thrusting up, meeting ur movement, his mouth moving higher, sucking on your collarbones, the saliva on his lips making a wet sound as they connect with your skin. His hands move up, cupping your breasts, squeezing and massaging them, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples, making them hard and sensitive.
"Fuck I love how wet you are," he moans, his hips thrusting up, the thick head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Your moans fill the room, ur hips moving in rhythm with his, your hands fisting in his hair as you ride him, ur nails digging into his scalp as you lose yourself in the feeling of him inside you…. "Fuckkk, I'm gonna…" you pant, your orgasm building, growing, threatening to consume you whole. He growls, his hips slamming into you harder, his hand moving between your bodies, rubbing ur clit roughly, his free hand sliding up your body to cup your mouth, his fingers pressing into your lips"Suck," he orders, and you eagerly comply, taking two fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself on his skin, the salty taste of his sweat and the musky smell of his body overwhelming your senses, making your head spin and your pussy tighten around him.
"That's it," he says, his voice low and dangerous, his hand moving back down, kneading ur ass before delivering a hard smack, the sting making you gasp. "Fuck," you cry out, your head dropping back, your eyes squeezing shut, your orgasm washing over you, waves of pleasure crashing down on you, your body trembling with the force of it, your inner walls gripping him, pulsing, milking him. "That's it, baby, cum for me," he groans, his hands gripping your hips, his nails digging into your flesh, his hips stuttering, his own release approaching,
"Fucking shit," he grunts, his hips jerking up, burying himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he spills himself into you, filling you with his seed, the sensation bringing you over the edge once more, making you scream and sob, tears running down your cheeks, your body shaking with the intensity of your release, the camera quick to capture the scene, both of your fucked out face and his cum spilling out of your hole caught in full HD as he pulled away, leaving you on the bed with ur legs spread open, your body still shaking as he tucked his softening cock into his pants and 'leaving'. The director signaled for cut and the whole set sighed in relief, some chuckling at the state you were in and how quick Mark has become a star, they were impressed and couldn't wait to see how far this will go, Jaemin smirked seeing Mark walking towards him, his hair a mess from all the tugging and pulling, his shirt a bit crumpled and his lips slightly red.
"You did a great job " Jaemin smiled,Mark's lips curved into a grin, nodding and thanking him, his eyes drifting back to you as one of the staff helped you clean up. "She's good, isn't she?" Jaemin asked and that snapped him out of his thoughts. "Yeah, she is"
I wasn't planing to write this now but guess i did lmao, it's not the best in terms of quality especially in the smut as i rushed writing it tbh, but i'll add stuff to it when i get out of work, but yeah anyways... M also planing this to be a series so we will see how it's gonna go
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buriedpair · 1 day
Note
Hi hi hi!!:3 I was ponderingg on if any of your ocs could be platonic yanderes and what that would be like?^_^
LOVE a platonic yandere
Platonic yandere!OCs x GN Reader
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Amias
Being Amias' best friend is no easy task. It's been years since you've been on a date. Plus, he's constantly dragging you along to go waste his money (and then earn it back).
He's not romantically attracted to you, he's made that clear. However, he's also not interested in you dating anyone. Ever. He says it's because "Nobody deserves you, and dating sucks."
You guess he's right, but you haven't been on a date since high school! This seems a bit excessive.
It's weird how when you start going on dates again, they randomly ghost you. Amias was right, dating DOES suck.
Maybe you should just focus that time and energy on your favorite gambling weirdo.
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Edge
Edge isn't really one for friendship, but his cousin is an exception. You're constantly wandering into the Casino to bug him while he's trying to work. It's irksome, but he appreciates that you try to get him to take breaks from time-to-time.
He does not appreciate people gawking at you, though. He's quick to escort you off whenever there's someone openly flirting with you. He knows it isn't your fault, but it sure is annoying.
Oops, suddenly those people are completely broke and haven't won a single game that night. How did that happen? Whatever.
Edge simply pats your head and sighs. You're so simple-minded, that's why he has to keep those people away from you!
You're all that's right in this wrong world. Don't take his only friend away from him.
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Double Down
DD doesn't have any family. He was an awkward kid in middle school that nobody wanted to be around. You, however, happily announced that you are his sibling and won't ever abandon him. You're his family!
Of course, he treated you as such for the majority of his formative years. Even through the nastiness of puberty and high school, you stayed with him. He owes you a lot.
He's never flirted with you, he didn't develop that habit until long after you both declared each other family. He never felt the desire to, anyways.
You made a blood oath in your early years that you wouldn't leave. The contract is still hanging on his wall.
If anyone ever tried to date you, they're out of the picture immediately. He'd sob into his blood-coated hands and beg you not to leave.
What choice do you have? You're his family.
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Jackpot and Gambit
When Jackpot was 15, he was taken in by Gambit's family. He's seen the horrors of the world, but he's also seen the joys.
Gambit hasn't seen much. He knows the world is scary because his parents told him, but he doesn't learn until much, much later.
Naturally, Jackpot and Gambit have an instinct to defend.
They met you in senior year of high school. You were shy and didn't want to interact with anyone. You had one friend, and they were a shitty friend to say the least.
When Jackpot watched them dump milk on your head, he punched them in the nose, put his jacket over your head and took you away to go find Gambit.
You were crying, and didn't say a word to either of them the entire time.
From that moment, they were the ones to hang out with you instead. Even if you didn't want them to, they'd still keep you sandwiched between them at all times.
When the casino was finally created, you were kept far, far away from it. Gamblers are dangerous people, you know. They can't have their best friend getting hurt.
Hell, just stay in their house. It's safer there. Nobody can hurt you where they can see you.
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vickyvicarious · 1 day
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There was a certain method in the Count's inquiries, so I shall try to put them down in sequence; the knowledge may somehow or some time be useful to me.
Let's talk about this method.
Dracula opens this conversation by first checking if he could have multiple solicitors, then questioning further whether he could have them for different tasks/locations. Jonathan accedes the legality of all this, but first says it's not usually necessary, then wants more detail when Dracula keeps asking. Dracula explains, but his explanation seems a little contradictory:
"Now here let me say frankly, lest you should think it strange that I have sought the services of one so far off from London instead of some one resident there, that my motive was that no local interest might be served save my wish only; and as one of London residence might, perhaps, have some purpose of himself or friend to serve, I went thus afield to seek my agent, whose labours should be only to my interest. Now, suppose I, who have much of affairs, wish to ship goods, say, to Newcastle, or Durham, or Harwich, or Dover, might it not be that it could with more ease be done by consigning to one in these ports?"
He claims he didn't want any local interests to be served over his own in London, but then turns right around and says that local lawyers in various ports would be able to help him there more easily. If he really wants his own interests served first and foremost, Jonathan's suggestion that he could work with one solicitor, who would then work on his behalf with colleagues in other places, seems perfectly reasonable. Of course, if he wants to limit how much of his affairs any one person knows, then dividing his various tasks amongst various people makes sense. It's more unusual or even suspicious, but it's perfectly legal.
(Aside here - part of the reason I think he actually wanted a lawyer who wasn't from London is because he wants as little connection drawn between himself and that lawyer's (or lawyers' plural, going off my theory he might plan to kill Mr. Hawkins later) strange disappearance/death. He wants anyone he meets in London to know nothing about him before his arrival there.)
Dracula's happy to hear this. Then he starts delving into all sorts of specifics, with an attention to detail that impresses Jonathan. He obviously wants to be very careful to be as fully prepared as possible. Only after this is all confirmed (in books, not just by Jonathan's word - perhaps guarding against Jonathan, who knows he is imprisoned, lying to him?), does he ask whether Jonathan has written home. He uses clever wording and an implicit threat to coerce Jonathan to agree to remaining another month and helping him further.
This, just after they have completed all their business. It's extra cruel with that timing. And then as soon as he sees Jonathan is trapped, he presses his advantage with insidious charm, essentially dictating the content of the letters he wants him to write home. He gives Jonathan extremely thin paper, once again a threat without words that his words will be seen, his cooperation assessed further. He proceeds to sit right there the entire time Jonathan is writing, and only after he is done does Dracula begin to write his own letters. This little choice increases the pressure immensely, meaning Jonathan has to write while feeling watched the entire time, then wait in suspense even longer after he has finished. Sure, he says he's just reading a book, but I doubt he's putting all his attention on that. Dracula is essentially taunting him here - all the more so when he leaves the room and the letters unguarded briefly.
Throughout the entire conversation, and the letter-writing that follows, he slowly tightens a net around Jonathan. The first part might raise suspicions about what Dracula plans to get up to, but it also is completely focused on business and very productive. It's also a lot of Jonathan saying yes, you can do that. Yes, it's odd to have multiple solicitors, but you can do that. Yes, if you want, that's allowed, and here's how to avoid any negative consequences. Then he uses the claim of business and duty to impose further on Jonathan. Jonathan is forced again to say yes, you can do that. You can have me stay longer. Yes, I accept, Mr. Hawkins did say I would help you however you needed. I will do that. Then as soon as Jonathan has agreed to that, Dracula ramps up the charm and threat both, and pushes harder with the letter request. He forces Jonathan to once again agree, this time without any words. Yes, I'll do that. I'll do what you want me to.
And then, at the very end, after establishing this pattern of agreement and complicity, after making Jonathan feel completely trapped in so many ways. Then, he starts to test Jonathan. To push him more. He leaves the room, leaves his letters behind. Two of them unopened. What is that if not an invitation to snoop? Jonathan takes the invitation - but he's frustrated in any effort to read inside by Dracula's swift return. Dracula removes any opportunity to learn more about the letters, and moves to leave Jonathan alone to stew in his thoughts... but turns back at the door to deliver a warning.
Don't sleep outside your room. If you do, who knows what would happen to you. He gestures as though he's washing his hands, as if saying I'm not responsible for the result or maybe even I won't save you. Coming right now, after the way the rest of this conversation has gone... it feels a lot like a deliberate taunt. A test. A push, to see if Jonathan will rebel once out of his sight. A trap, perhaps - especially if leaving him with the letters was already a trick, especially if he could tell that Jonathan tried to spy on them.
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house-of-slayterr · 3 days
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Character who would find you attractive covered in blood…
Inspired by: @slasher-male-wife
Kaz Breker:
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I think at first, Kaz would be concerned where the blood came from. He won’t verbalise his concern, but you’ll see it in his eyes, when he raises a brow at you. After you assure him that none of the blood is yours, his brain will switch gear. He’s gonna take in every inch of your appearance to save away in his head for later. You might not be at the point in your relationship yet where he’ll expect touch. But that doesn’t mean this man doesn’t desperately want you. He’ll save this image for alone time.
Kai Parker:
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Malachi is a sadistic little freak, everyone knows that. But despite this, he does have a select few people he can’t fathom the thought of torturing for real. One of them being you. His brain almost short circuits when you walk in covered in blood. He’s on his feet within moment dragging you into his arms. He won’t ask for reassurance that it’s not yours, just silently check your body for wounds. Once he finds none a sick grin will grow on his face.
“Awww, did somebody just wanna get all dolled up and pretty for me?” He’ll coo in your ear.
He’d nip at your neck, licking some of the blood off of you. You’re not going anywhere the rest of the evening, Kai will be sure you can’t walk in the morning. If you let him, he’ll add to the mess and drag a knife softly across your skin to leave his mark. The sight of you covered in blood is his happy place.
Blaine DeBeers:
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Blaine thinks you’re the hottest thing to ever walk this earth on a normal day. That zombie has no shortage of pet names or dirty thoughts to whisper in your head or text you. If he finds you covered in blood before you’re turned, the concern side of his head will kick in first. Blaine finds you quite fragile and his biggest fear is someone taking you away from him. He’s at your side in a moment pushing anyone and anything out of his way to get to you. But once he’s reassured you weren’t attacked and aren’t actively dying, a thousand questions swim through his head.
He’s going to ask for more details about what happened and why you did it. But his hands a running up and down your body the whole time, just smeering and playing with the blood. If anyone else was in the room, even for an important meeting, he’d excuse them all immediately. And locking the door. You’re not leaving his office.
And if he finds you covered in blood after you’re also a zombie, he goes straight into horny mode. Though you will get some playful wining from him after about how you didn’t share your food.
William Pratt:
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He’s gonna be a cocky little shit the second you come to him drenched in plasma. William could smell if it was your blood, he has your scent committed to memory, it is his favourite thing after all. So there’s no immediate worry from your blond boyfriend. Though a few questions in the back of his head if you’re mentally ok with your current predicament. But he can also hear your heart beat, and knows you’re not in distress.
“Well somebody had a fun evening, care to share your festivities little blood bag?”
He’s going to immediately drag you to his crypt and beg to lick every once of blood off your body. He wouldn’t be apposed to messing you up even more ontop of it. I don’t think you could stop him from biting you even if you tired. As much as he loves the strangers blood, yours is what he desperately craves. Plus what’s hotter than feeding during sex? Spike knows you love his bites just as much as he loves biting you.
Jasper Whitlock:
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Jasper was surprised himself to find seeing you covered in blood so attractive to him. If the vampire had a heart beat it would be racing out of his chest. Jasper has a darker side he likes to try and keep hidden from his family. It doesn’t matter if you’re still human or already turned. His eyes immediately go pitch black and he’s licking his lips, wanting to ravish you in anyway possible.
He wishes he were an artist so he could paint this moment 1000 times to perfect the sight of you. Of course if you’re human, he’s a little concerned you might be hurt, but he doesn’t smell any of your blood, just the strangers. Thoughts creep in his head about what you would taste like. He speeds to you in a millisecond carefully picking you up and takes you to his room. He’ll take his time cleaning you up, slowly washing the blood off your naked body as he kisses you in between. He wants to worship you in this state. He will act first, ask questions later.
Thomas Hewitt:
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Nobody is surprised by the fact Thomas finds you hot covered in blood, besides Thomas. You waltzed into this man’s life and flipped it upside down. He was supposed to kill you like the others, you were supposed to become dinner. But when one of the other victims turned on you and tried to sacrifice you to save themselves. All he saw was red… both literally and figuratively.
He’d watch for a moment as you try to fend for yourself first before stepping in and slitting the victims throat. Because of the angel, you almost get more covered than him, trying to back up and make sure none of it got in your eyes.
Thomas would stand there panting softly starring down at you. Of course he’s found other victims attractive before, but the poor boys has never acted on it. But he finds himself stalking over to you and gripping you in his arms before he can stop himself. He lets out a soft grunt resting his head ontop of your blood soaked hair. His was of saying “mine”. Thomas is already formulating a way to beg his family to keep you as his little pet. He wants to see you covered in blood over and over and over again. You might just be his new addiction.
Tiffany Valentine:
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This woman has never been shy about anything in her life. You knew exactly what you were getting into before dating her. And her plan to wear you down until you joined her in the killing was working. Because here you stood now, knife in hand, tearing out the heart of a woman who dared to insult and hurt your lover. Tiffany wanted to break you, as much as she loved you sweet and innocent she’d been craving your hidden darkness. And Tiffany always gets what she wants.
She’s already wet just watching you. But her adrenaline is rushing wondering what delightful horrendous thing you’ll do next. What she wasn’t expecting was for you to take a bite out of the heart, before offering it up to her. She’d step over the copse taking the heart from your hands but leave you sitting on your knees, her favourite position to have you in. She takes a moment to take in the sight of you, the lust and love swirling in her chest seeing you like this. So disgusting and all for her.
She doesn’t care about the fresh corpse in the room, long forgotten as she puts you in your place. You’ll be worshiping at her feet all night, devouring her till she’s satisfied enough to pleasure you back.
Lestat De Lioncourt:
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I don’t think this one needs much explaining. Lestat takes any excuse he can to get you absolutely drenched in blood. He loves the carnage and the filthiness of it. He’s a messy eater himself, and he knows you love seeing him like this as much as he loves watching you.
It doesn’t matter if your turned or not, he finds the blood attractive either way. He loves listening to your human heart racing when you watch him feed, usually kissing you after to get your face covered in blood. It was common occurrence, he was proud to leave a mark on you in any way he could, even if it was temporary. He loved to bite you all over and just watch the blood dribble down you, before licking it up. Your thighs, chest, neck, anywhere he could reach would be covered in bites.
But after your turned, he wants to be there to give you your first meal. Watch you devour your prey and feed off them with you. Feeding almost always leads to sex with him. He can’t help the way seeing you like this gets him going. And he won’t be shy or quiet about his desires.
Venom:
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Now I’m talking Venom as its own entity. If he’s attached to Eddie I think Eddie would be far more concerned and worried and drown out whatever venom is thinking. But depending on who the symbiotic is attached to you’ll get a different reaction. Venom will always feel the same however, it’s just if these desire will be verbalised and acted upon that’s the difference.
He already finds humans to be tasty little morsels, in fact it was something he called you quite often. You were his favorite tasty morsel. If you’re the one bleeding, Venom will still be incredibly horny. The scent of you blood makes him feel high. Of course he’ll tend to your wounds, but that won’t stop his tongue from exploring your body.
But if it’s someone else’s blood, his eyes will be zeroed in on you the second he sees you. His sharp teeth breaking into a sickening grin. He’s so proud of his baby and he wants to show you just how much. You’ll get endless praise and he won’t stop begging you after to get covered in blood for him more often. He loves bloody sex, or even just cuddles, either way you’re not leaving his sight, let alone his arms for several hours. Doesn’t matter if you had stuff to do or want to shower, the only way you’re cleaning off in the shower is if he joins you.
Harry Warden:
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Is anyone surprised? After all, you are his BLOODY valentine. It’s in your title. And who are you to deny him what he wants to see. Harry would be greatly concerned if it was your blood. His body immediately fuelled with rage wanting to avenge you and kill the person who dared to touch his one true love. But a part of him still thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the world, even when you’re bleeding in his protective arms.
But if it’s someone else’s blood, that’s a different story. Harry loves it when you join him in disposing of the vapid couples who simply are a joke compared to the two of you. Their love doesn’t deserve to be validated because they will never love eachother as much as you and Harry would die for each other. He loves watching you test the couples and see who will turn on each other, before stepping in to help you dispose of the dismantled lovers.
Barely a minuet will pass between the killings and his mask being ripped off his face and you being slammed into a wall. Of course his reasons for killing before you were jealously, but now he wants to immortalise your love by killing anyone else who dares to taint the name of romance. These killings are your show of love for each other and nothing makes him more turned on. Of course he’ll take you back home, nice and proper. He’ll make out with you in public, but he doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing what’s ONLY his. And he doesn’t want any interruptions.
An: ahhh, I haven’t written in so long, but I felt inspired this morning. Sorry for being gone yall, I promise I’m alright, just lots of medical stuff going on and doctor appointments have been keeping me busy. I love yall. Hope to write more soon 🫀
Tag: @kados-of-chaos @oceansrose2002 @mothmans-kingdom @myers-meadow
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january-summers · 3 days
Text
Just thinking about how the Doc thing could have been more painful, if we’d gotten the Chorus battle.
Under the cut because this got wordy, and also spoilers.
Picture it. We see Washington go down, bleeding out, and Doc races to his side, promises that Wash is going to be okay, and then an explosion goes off and Doc gets hit by shrapnel or shot, and more medics, maybe Grey arrives, but the sound is gone, and first watch through, we assume we’re experiencing Wash’s “too close to that boom” hearing loss.
But the action switches back to Carolina or the Reds and Blues, and we don’t know who survives, or if anyone does, but the team is told “Wash and Doc were amongst the casualties” and Wash is being kept unconscious, because his injuries.
Later, Tucker and Carolina go to visit Wash, who’s still unconscious, and Carolina goes to track down Grey and Tucker is left standing there, watching Wash. The image flickers and for a split second it’s Maine watching Wash on the MoI, Sigma over his shoulder. But Sigma takes a second too long to vanish, remaining for a brief heart beat after the image returns to the present. And that’s when Sigma starts Meta-fying Tucker.
The Reds are talking to Grey when Carolina gets to her, and Sarge says something along the lines of Doc is one of them, they should go see him. I’m imagining him saying something that, on first watch sounds like they’re going to visit him in recovery, but if you stop and think it seems weird for Sarge to care that much. Second watch you realise they mean they’re going to visit the morgue.
Later still, Carolina has to go off to deal with the UNSC on behalf of Chorus, so she’s not there when Tucker starts acting weird, but before she leaves she tells an awake Wash, who thinks he should be allowed to leave already, to make sure his emergency beacon is working before he escapes the hospital, so if he exacerbates his injuries Carolina can be there in a heartbeat to scold him. (And help him out.)
Insert some “hey we’re (as far as we know) the sole survivors of PFL and all its fucked up shit and no one else is going to understand what I went through if you’re gone” emotional banter before she leaves. Once the door closes Wash says something that’s the affection version of calling Carolina a worry-wart. Pan over to Doc sitting in one of the visitor chairs and he berates Wash, reminding him it was a really close call, and that Wash has really almost does this time.
Meanwhile, the Meta starts to Meta, leading the Reds (including Donut) and Caboose on a chase as they begin to figure out what’s happening to him. Maybe one of the fragments jumps ship to one of the others? Maybe Record-Epsilon as canon?
Doesn’t matter, this is about Doc’s reveal. Someone gets word to Wash about what’s going on, or maybe he sees on the news first, but he gets word where the team is going, back to where it all began for them. Bloodgulch. Maybe hoping Bloodgulch will mean enough to Tucker to help him fight back.
Doc and Wash talk about why Wash has to go, because in the end he couldn’t save Maine, just like he couldn’t save Connie or the other Freelancers, like he couldn’t save Alpha or Delta or Epsilon, just like he could’t… the point is he wants to stop loosing people, and if he doesn’t at least try, maybe they shouldn’t have saved him (Wash).
The duo arrives to see the remaining Reds and Blues trying to fight the Meta (I keep portmanteau-ing him as MeTucker in my head, but pronouncing it Meh-Tucker) and he gets one of the team on radio to discover they haven’t called Carolina, or they have and they can’t get a hold of her, but Caboose has a plan, maybe.
Up on the cliff, because they got dropped off in the wrong place, Wash and Doc have another conversation. Wash lays out the plan: he can get Carolina there, by setting off his emergency beacon. He’s not recovered enough to be much use in a fight, but he can set off his beacon, he’s just got to set it off.
Doc says he can set it off for Wash, he doesn’t need to jump. And Wash looks at Doc quietly, and says “no you can’t.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Doc tells him, “you don’t need to die to make up for it. It was my job, not that I was ever really good at it.”
“Yeah it was, Doc, but don’t worry, I’m not going to undo all your hard work. I don’t get to die, that’s my punishment for all the things I’ve done. I have to live with the consequences.”
And then he yeets himself off the cliff and flails all the way down. Doc is waiting for him at the bottom, telling him not to move even as Wash drags himself up so he can see the battlefield.
Afterwards, after Carolina has watched Caboose carry out Tex’s final plan, she tracks down Wash, who’s waiting quietly with Doc.
“Is Tucker…” Wash starts to ask, but can’t get it out, because what if the answer is bad.
“He’s alive,” Carolina tells him anyway, “I don’t know if he’ll be okay though. We should be there for him.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, suit took most of the fall damage.”
“That’s not what I meant. Wash, what happened to Doc, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes it was.”
Carolina looks away, but Doc cuts in, “it was my job, Wash. You didn’t fail me, and you didn’t fail Tucker, you can’t keep holding on to all that guilt. I’ve told you that before, you didn’t listen to me back then, but maybe it’s time to. Let it go Wash, let me go, don’t fall into the same trap as the Director, don’t chase ghosts when there are people who still need you to be there.”
*Flashback*
The scene where Wash and Doc got injured, but the audio is audible this time. One of the medics checks Doc and declares him deceased, Grey tells them to focus on Wash, DuFresne got far enough into treating Wash that he’s not going to die, but they need to get him seen to or that’s going to change quickly.
*End Flashback*
Carolina echoes Doc’s statement, that Wash isn’t to blame for everyone they’ve lost, and that he still has the Blues, and Carolina… and the Reds too.
And Wash has his goodbye moment with Doc, and yeah maybe all the Freelancers (not the Triplets because they showed up during the Chorus battle and they’re helping Kimball atm).
And Wash tells Carolina that he doesn’t ever know if he’s going to be okay, but he’s not going to abandon his team, or her.
And Carolina says, “okay, let’s go home, and gestures to Blue base.”
“Okay,” Washington says, and then, “by the way my leg is like, super broken and I can’t stand.”
So Carolina calls over Locus, who the others picked up during their run around plot stuffs, and he carries Wash into Blue Base.
-
By the ways this was originally supposed to just be “wash tells doc The Plan and doc says ‘but i can set the beacon off for you!?’ And wash says ‘no you can’t’ because he knows doc isn’t real.” But then double fake out death scene.
(Also would have preferred no one die at all, but fine if you’re gonna do it anyway…)
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lulublack90 · 1 day
Text
Prompt 12 - Rub
@jegulus-microfic May 12, Word count 757
Previous part First part
James, good to his word, snuck down to the dungeons and collected Regulus under the invisibility cloak while Sirius and Peter made their way outside. He took Regulus to an area on the lawn that was in a black spot from anyone looking out of the castle. The only person who might catch them there was Hagrid, but that wasn’t likely, as Sirius had mentioned to him that there was a bit of gambling going on in the Hog’s head that he might be interested in. They’d sat together, peering at the Marauder’s map as Hagrid’s little label disappeared out the main gate.
Padfoot bounded across the lawn and transformed just before he got to them. He looked Regulus up and down. 
“You ready?” He asked. He’d been trying harder these past few weeks to be better around Regulus and while neither of them seemed overly enthusiastic about each other, James could see they were more relaxed around each other and after tonight, he hoped that Sirius would come to accept that Regulus maybe didn’t tell their parents about everything they got up to.
Regulus nodded stiffly at Sirius.
“Yes.” His voice was just as stiff. Sirius let a grin spread across his face, James thought it even met his eyes, which was a first between them. 
“Good luck,” He winked, before turning back into Padfoot and loping across the grass to the base of the Whomping Willow. 
Regulus swallowed and looked up at the sky. Typically, it was cloudy tonight. They might have to wait a while for the full moon to be visible. 
Twilight fell around them and James flung the invisibility cloak over them again when Madam Pomfrey appeared out the entrance door, escorting Remus to the shack. 
“He doesn’t look good,” Regulus observed. James nodded solemnly. 
“He hurts around the full moon, but especially just before. The transformations are hard on him. Maybe once you can transform he’ll let you join us if you want. But I’ll warn you now, it’s heartbreaking to watch what his body goes through each month.”
They stood quietly for a while, gazing at the sky and watching for Madam Pomfrey. They had to stand quite close as the cloak was only so big. James tried his best not to touch Regulus, but their shoulders kept brushing. He inhaled, trying to calm his breathing, but it didn't help. 
Madam Pomfrey appeared, and she hurried back up to the castle. Once the doors were firmly closed, James removed the cloak and took a step away, pretending he was struggling to roll it up.
When he’d stopped messing with the cloak, he looked back over at Regulus, who was staring towards the Whomping Willow. Just then, the clouds rolled away and revealed the full moon behind.
It shone brighter than James remembered, then again it had been a while since he stared at a full moon with his human eyes. “Okay, it’s time.” He smiled encouragingly at Regulus. Regulus paused with the leaf in his hand. He gulped. “You don’t have to do it if you’re not ready,” James said gently. Regulus huffed at him. He tilted his head up, so he was staring squarely at the moon and put the mandrake leaf in his mouth. It was very anticlimactic. 
“Is that it?” His face twisted into a frown. James chuckled. 
“Yep, but it gets more exciting later.” He fully turned towards Regulus. “Let me have a look, so I can make sure you’ve got the leaf in a good position.” Regulus automatically opened his mouth and James peered in. 
Ever so carefully he raised his hand and moved the leaf further under Regulus’s tongue. He was surprised Regulus hadn’t bitten him, but the leaf would have fallen out in his sleep otherwise. 
His thumb was resting on Regulus’s lip and James unconsciously started to rub the pad along the delicate skin. It was only when Regulus drew in a gasping breath that he realised what he was doing. “Sorry,” He mumbled as he withdrew his finger. 
Regulus moved his jaw around, testing the leaf in his mouth. 
“So this thing won’t fall out now? Even when I’m eating?” He asked, ignoring James's apology. 
“Yeah, it should stay put. That’s how we had them when we did it, and we got through the whole month with them barely moving.” James told him. But before he could do anything else, Regulus had stepped into his space, and under the full moon he pressed his body into James’s and stole a kiss. 
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