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unholybacon355 · 3 months

Text

All Mine

Momo x Reader

Words Count: 1.7k

A/N: I just wanted to write this to get rid of the idea. And also yes, I should be writing other things like the chapter of the stories i still didn't update. But here I'm, writing obscenities.

As always, I hope you have fun reading this.

You were sure that you were the luckiest person in the world, there couldn't be anyone luckier. Right in front of you you had your girlfriend with her chest pressed against the bed, her back arched at an angle that only someone with her flexibility could reach; and her ass up. Her knees were well planted on the mattress, wide apart from each other. Which was why her plump buttocks parted naturally as well, letting you clearly see her sodden vagina and her tight rear entrance. The full sight of having Momo in that position was a wonder, a delight you dare say.

"Are you going to fuck my ass, or am I going to have to go out and find someone else who does?" Momo moved her butt impatiently from side to side trying to get your attention.

"You'd love that, right?" You gave her a spank that resounded throughout the room. Despite having a very athletic body and well-toned musculature, her butt was still very soft, so the hit made her buttock tremble as if it were made of jelly. A delicious peach flavored jelly. "You'd like to go hunting and fuck as many people as you can."

"Yeah." Momo replied with a mischievous smile on his lips. "But it's still more fun when you fuck me."

“I love so much that you are a hopeless slut.” You leaned in to put your face inches from your girlfriend's crotch, from where you could smell the delicious scent of her holes. You two had been fucking for a while now, and even though she had come a couple of times, you knew that when she was in the mood for anal it wasn't over until you filled her ass. The very thought of fucking that wonderful tight asshole again was enough to make your cock throb, and when you were in front of Momo it seemed to have a life of its own.

You spread her cheeks with both hands for better access before taking a long lick from her clit, past her soaking vagina, to the puckered opening of her ass. The taste of her juices was quite a delight, nothing that even the best dessert in the world could match. You could spend hours eating her pussy, to the point that your girlfriend came so many times that she ended up with cramped legs due to spasms. But now the cavity that interested you was not that.

Your tongue swirled around her anus, licking and salivating as much as you could. Savoring even the most remote confines of her, as if you hadn't eaten for a week. If you loved the taste of her vagina, then you had to invent a new word for what you felt for the taste of her ass. It was without a doubt your favorite, and Momo loved how obsessed you were with it.

Now the tip of your tongue was entering her anus, doing all the work to dilate it as much as possible. You could hear loud moans from her, indicating that you were doing a wonderful job. But unfortunately you were aware that your saliva was not enough to lubricate such a perfect ass, if you did not want to hurt your girlfriend you had to use real lubricant. Which is why you reluctantly parted from her anus and grabbed the bottle of lube you had next to you. Then you let a thick stream fall on Momo's anus.

"Be careful, it's cold." She complained when the viscous liquid touched her skin. Without giving importance to her words, you began to spread the lubricant where you had been leaving your saliva before. Using your middle and ring fingers you made sure to drench and massage her anus, drawing circles over her wrinkled entrance. When you decided that your care, added to what your tongue did before, was enough, you put both fingers inside it. The sudden intrusion made Momo moan in surprise, and in the wave of pleasure that ran through her body.

Knowing that she could take it perfectly, you began to put your fingers in and out, fucking her ass at a steady pace. For her part, she let herself be loved and only her moans told you that you were doing well, that she was enjoying it a lot. You even dared to separate your digits a bit, wanting to maximize the pleasure she felt and dilating her entrance even more.

"I love having your fingers inside me, but that's not what I want right now." Your impatient girlfriend said between moans, urging you to fuck her in a different way.

"Always so impatient my love." You took out your fingers out making a fart noise when all that was left inside was the lube you left behind. You took a few seconds to watch her anus slowly close in the absence of your fingers, before positioning yourself to penetrate her. "Spread those buttocks for me."

"If I do, are you going to hurry?" Despite always bothering you, you know that her impatience is due to the fact that she loves you very much, and of course you couldn't love her less than she loves you. How else could you have done so many dirty things together?

You watch in delight as she uses both hands to spread her cheeks apart, causing her anus and vagina to open up a bit in a rather obscene way. Knowing that this is your cue, you smear some lube on your cock and rub the tip against her anus. The touch is so pleasant that you have to force yourself not to cum before even penetrating her. But after having spent so much time fucking the truth is that you were already close to your limit.

Using pressure you work your way into her anal cavity slowly, stretching her walls an inch at a time. You feel as though you had lubricated it well, the pressure on your penis is overwhelming, you moan yourself as you enter it. “I love fucking your ass so much.”

"I know, I'm irresistible." You were going to laugh at your girlfriend's words, but just at that moment she squeezes her anus to maximize the pleasure of both of you. You let the air out of your lungs in a loud moan, causing Momo to laugh. “Are you about to cum yet?”

You spank her again before responding. "You know yes." You begin to move slowly, fucking her ass at a pace that was obviously not enough for both of you. “I never last too long fucking you from behind”

Momo lets go of one of her buttocks and uses his right hand to rub her clit as she slowly picks up the pace of your thrusts. I know, it's my ass you fill when you cum.” So knowing what she's doing she's squeezing and releasing her anus with a random rhythm that drives you crazy. You can hear her laugh as you speed up the pace with which you fuck her in revenge for the wonderful things she was doing with her body.

Now all that can be heard in the room is the slapping of your hips against her ass, and the moans from both of you. Sweat soaks your forehead, and you can see how also covers your girlfriend's back with a thin layer. That well-toned back that you loved to kiss and massage, but now was not the time to think about those things. It was time to focus on other things just as loving, like fucking your girlfriend's ass as fast as possible.

Her anus was swallowing your cock completely and then you would pull it out until you almost withdrew from it, to put it back all the way to the base. And despite clenching and releasing her ass muscle she never stopped massaging her clit. Even now she had inserted two of her fingers and was fucking herself trying to match the pace of your thrusts.

"Babe... I'm close." You heard her say it in the most loving way she could, which made it all the obscene. "Fill my ass with your hot milk please."

"Is that what my bitch wants?"

“Yesssss… Please cum inside my ass.”

"Your wishes are orders my Queen." After those words you increase the pace of your thrusts to the point where your hips ached, but that didn't matter when it came to pleasuring your beloved. You knew she was close, and certainly you were about to cum too. You weren't going to last much longer and you both were aware of that.

Already with erratic thrusts, while she continued using her fingers to fuck her vagina, you continued penetrating her ass. But you knew that this was already your limit. With one last strong thrust you left your cock inside Momo and came inside her tight ass. You held on to her hips to keep from falling as the orgasm clouded your vision and sent spasms through your entire body. Between your moans you could hear how she was also enjoying her own orgasm, and you could also feel it because her anus was tighter than ever. Smothering your cock as her juices trickled down her thighs.

When all your milk had spilled inside your beloved's rectum, you carefully withdrew. Her anus took a few seconds to close completely, during which time some of your semen squirted out.

Then they both collapsed on the bed, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. Thus, all tired and sticky, you hugged her from behind and covered her shoulders with kisses.

"That was incredible. My last orgasm was the strongest of all.”

"I know, you almost squeezed my dick."

"Exaggerated." Between giggles Momo rubs her butt against your now flaccid penis, just to annoy you.

"Do you want me to clean your ass?" You ask her while you continue kissing her shoulders. She interweaves her fingers with yours before responding.

"No, thanks. I love how feels your semen inside me." She lifts your hand to kiss it before placing it back on her lap. "We better go to sleep."

"Honey, it's three in the afternoon."

"Do you have something better to do?" You burst out laughing at her question, and before you know it you snuggle up to her and settle in for a nap you certainly needed to pull yourself together. God, how you love this woman.

#twice #twice smut #twice x reader #momo smut #momo #momo x male reader #fanfic

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slafkovskys · 6 months

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All of this start of the season Jack content is making me feel things!!! All I can think about is him and older Norris reader after the ring toss! What does he plan for the date? How does it go? What is everyone in their lives reactions to it? Does she go to Jersey with him? Jess your writing is so immaculate this AU has infiltrated my brain😂🥰

read part one here :)

as she hears his footsteps descending the steps, she thinks about how she wouldn't be doing this for anyone else, especially not on a first date.

her dress and heels were long abandoned in a guest room, instead exchanged for a pair of jack’s sweatpants and a too big t-shirt from her college days she had left at the hughes brothers’ house at some point during her many trips there over the past few weeks. her hair was now pulled away from her face, the fact that she had moved her wash day for the occasion be damned.

“so,” he lets out a big sigh before quite literally falling onto the l-shaped part of the sofa beside her. she’s got her legs tucked underneath her, a wine glass held tight in one hand, and her head resting on another on the back of the couch. the remote is resting on her thigh and all either of them had to do was press play on the third mighty ducks movie (“it’s better than miracle, jack. not even an argument,” and she quickly learned that jack does whatever she wants, so that was an easy debate to have before he retreated to shower) that had been queued on the screen for the past twenty minutes. instead, jack throws an arm lazily over her legs, gives her that stupid grin of his she’s become obsessed with, and nods, “tell me about y/n.”

“you know about y/n,” she states as though it was a fact, which it was. they weren’t strangers to each other in the slightest, having been somewhat background characters in each other’s lives for the last eight years.

“no, i don’t. i know about the y/n whose posts i see on instagram or whatever updates my mom tells me she’s learned from your mom. that doesn’t count,” his index finger traces the outside seam of the pants she was wearing from her calf, to just above her knee, and back, “i want to know about the y/n in front of me.”

“okay then,” she takes a deep breath, swirling her wine around in her glass before taking a sip, “i was born here in michigan, but moved to germany for a little while when my dad was still playing. before you ask me, no, the only german i can remember is my old address and how to tell them i was lost. when we moved back here, i picked up hockey for a couple of years before deciding to leave it to the boys-”

“you played defense, right?” jack interrupts, staring at her with such an interest.

she hums, “why do you think i always win when me and my brothers fight? i had potential, but it really just wasn’t for me.”

“is that so? because i remember a certain tipsy moment a few weeks ago where you said you quit because you didn’t like the colors of the uniform.”

“that may have been a contributing factor, but i was fourteen and very fashion-conscious. you can’t hold that against me,” she rolls her eyes. she catches sight of the wristbands on his arm and she can’t help but to reach down and tug on them as she resumes her story, “anyway, graduated high school, moved to minnesota for college. go gophers-”

“debatable,” he teases.

“got my degree in communications. thought that i met the love of my life in the backyard of a sigma chi frat house, which we both know how that worked out. moved down to florida, got engaged, called off the engagement, and now i’m back living with my parents. i have lived a life, jack hughes,” she sighs as she finishes off her glass. she didn’t miss the way that his face twitched at the mention of derek and how she just barely ghosted over what had happened. due to the movement, his damp hair had fallen over his eyes and she reached out to push it away, “it’s going to take more than one glass of wine and a first date to get into the good stuff.”

“but i already knew all of that,” he huffs, “tell me something that i don’t already know. tell me about something that makes you happy.”

“recently?” she quirks an eyebrow and he hums, “honestly, you.”

and jack’s world comes to a screeching halt. for as long as he had known her, she wasn’t the type to get sentimental, vulnerable, but over the last two months, he felt that he had seen more versions of her than he knew existed. from the first night she was home, to that plane ride to florida to get her things, to watching her toss her engagement ring into the water right outside his house, it wasn’t enough. he wanted, no he needed more of her. he needed to know every single version of her, every single story, every single emotion that she had to offer him.

her eyes find his and he squeezes her knee, a silent ask. he watches as her throat bobs and just as he goes to crane his neck up to meet her, an alarm sounds. that stupid fucking pizza.

after scouring the entire grocery store, they couldn’t find any pre-breaded chicken for chicken parm and neither of them wanted to bother with doing it themselves. so that’s how they found themselves snatching up a premade pizza with a reduced sticker on the front because its sell-by date was that day and even though jack insisted on getting one that was fresher, she only rolled her eyes and insisted it would taste the same. he, of course, let her sit it in the basket along with the thing of cookies she suddenly had a craving for the second she laid eyes on them. the way her face lit up made it worth the extra work he was going to have to put in later.

despite the insistent beeping from the stove timer, neither of them dared to make a move to go and pull the pizza from the oven. she blinks, “we should probably go and check on it…”

“i think that it can wait for a couple of minutes,” and yeah, it definitely could, because jack was leaning in and so was she. the second their lips meet it’s like nothing either of them had felt before. the build-up, the tension between the two of them over the summer was worth it as they melted into the kiss.

jack’s hand grips onto her thigh while her hand cradles his cheek. it was easy to get lost in each other, lips moving against one another’s like they’d been doing this forever. only when the need for air becomes too great do they pull away panting, still holding onto each other like either would disappear at any given second.

“we really should go check on the pizza,” she insists, swearing she can smell the cheese starting to burn.

he frowns, “can we do more of that later?”

“if you hurry back, you don’t have to wait that long,” she incentivizes and jack is all but scrambling towards the kitchen with the sounds of her laughter following behind him.

yeah, this was definitely something they could get used to.

(they never did hit play on the movie and the pizza didn’t burn, but it didn’t get eaten either. they were too lost in each other to even bother slicing through the crispy dough as it grew colder and colder on the countertop. oh well.)

#jack hughes #concepts #jackxnorris!sister

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thewayofthemandalorian · 1 year

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afraid to jinx it - oneshot

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: Marcus Moreno needs to return to work, and to do so needs to hire a nanny to care for his young daughter, Missy. He never anticipated falling in love with you, or that you would feel the same.

Word count: 5,354

Notes: Marcus Moreno is 1000% a nanny guy and no one can tell me any differently. I’ve made a few changes to canon with this fic: for starters, Marcus is not a widower but is still a single father; secondly, I’ve aged down Missy to be four years old since I don’t think a 13 year old really needs a nanny and Missy seems pretty independent in the movie.

This fic is cross-posted to my AO3 account under the same name, which can be found linked in my masterlist. Follow @thewayofthemandalorian-writes and turn on notifications for fic updates.

Comments/reblogs appreciated.

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified, but reader is in her late 20′s), boss-employee relationship, mutual attraction, swearing perceived power imbalance, kissing, non-explicit sexual content (including female receiving oral), protected sex.

masterlist (main) || masterlist (marcus moreno)

“When can you come back to work?”

It’s a question that Marcus Moreno has been asked a lot, in ever-increasing volumes. Since Missy was born, he’s been on a leave of absence as leader of the Heroics, graciously allowing Miracle Guy, Steve Boyd, to take his place until Marcus returns.

Since Missy was two, he’s been working remotely in a consulting role. His mom picks up a lot of the slack when he’s busy. It’s not fair to anyone. He knows his mom has her own life, and while she never complains and is always happy to take care of her granddaughter, Marcus knows that it isn’t a permanent solution.

It’s Anita’s idea, when Marcus is half-apologizing, half-thanking her for taking care of Missy while he works on his consultation. “Why not hire a babysitter or a nanny? So you can go to work and not have to worry. It is no trouble watching her, mijo, but hiring someone would clear up both of our plates and you can go to work.” Leave it to Anita Baltra Moreno to be altruistic and no-nonsense while also reassuring her son.

So, Marcus and Anita take Missy in her stroller, and put up job listings around the major hotspots for college students or graduates in the hopes that someone will see the listing and be: a) interested and b) qualified enough. Marcus is not worried so much about qualifications or a ton of experience in childcare. Some experience would be ideal but he’s more interested in personality. If the prospective nanny would get along with his daughter. A nanny could have an extensive resume but not click at all with his daughter. He’d rather have someone who fits that balance of being a good enough caretaker and getting along with Missy.

So, he posts the advertisements, even putting some on job websites, in the hopes that someone, anyone, will apply.

He gets many applications, but there’s only one that truly meets his eye.

When you saw the listing for a nannying job, you never expected to hear Marcus Moreno of the Heroics’ voice on the phone when he calls to set up an interview after submitting your – in your opinion – meager application.

He meets you for the interview at a coffee shop, explaining to you that his daughter, Missy, is turning four soon and will be starting half-day kindergarten in the fall, attending Tuesdays, Thursdays and every other Friday in the morning, coming home at lunchtime; your duties would be to arrive at his house in time to see her off to the school bus, pick her up from the bus, give her lunch, and spend the afternoons with her until Marcus gets home, usually at five-thirty. That seems reasonable to you. Plus, Marcus thinks she’s old enough now that he can start scaling up his availability with the Heroics again. Not on a full-time basis, he would go on the days that Missy is at school and his days off would line up with her days off.

“If you don’t mind my asking, where’s her mom?” you ask.

Marcus takes a long sip of his coffee, trying to think of a diplomatic way to explain what happened with his ex-fiancée. “She hasn’t been in the picture since Missy was a year and a half.” He tells you that she left one morning when the house was still asleep, paperwork signing away her maternal rights and her engagement ring on the kitchen island next to the coffee maker. A note saying I didn’t want this life. Marcus tried to find her, but when he did, she explained that she never wanted to be a mother, but she hoped that she would grow into the role of being a mom. The pregnancy had been an accident, a happy one for Marcus, who always wanted to have kids. “We ended things a while ago, it’s just been us and my mom for the past two and a half years.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say.

Marcus likes you. You’re kind and have a gentle way about you. You don’t seem to agitate easily. A calm level-headedness is exactly what he’s looking for. “I know that you don’t have the most impressive of applications,” he starts, “but I think you would be a good fit. What are you studying?”

You tell him that you just finished your degree in accounting. “It’s very tedious, but I’m good with numbers.”

“So, why nanny for me if you’ve got a degree in accounting?” he asks.

You shrug. “I like kids and nowhere is hiring at the moment in my field. Gotta pay the bills somehow, right?” you chuckle.

Marcus smiles, remembering his own college bills. “And your application lists you as being in your late twenties.”

“That’s right. I was the oldest graduate in my program. Most people in the course were fresh out of high school. I took some time off after graduating high school. Also, my mom kept me at home for an extra year before sending me to kindergarten. So, there’s that to it as well.”

He nods. He’s glad that you’re not in your early twenties; being in your late twenties makes you more mature and level-headed than other applicants, which is good for Missy. He got an application from a nineteen year old and had to let her down gently.

“Before I can officially offer you the job, I’d like Missy to meet you, make sure she’s okay with you first,” explains Marcus. “I do think you’ll be a great fit, though.”

You offer a demure smile. “Thanks. I hope it works out well.”

- - - -

That had been six months ago. After that meeting with Marcus, you’d met Missy, who asked you two questions: if you liked drawing and if you knew how to make grilled cheese sandwiches. Your answers to both those questions was a resounding yes. Missy had just nodded solemnly at her father and went back to colouring her Little Mermaid picture.

Now you and Missy are as thick as thieves. The four year old is such a sweet little girl. She’s an easy kid, never any fuss or disagreements. At least, not to the extent that you were originally anticipating. She is only four, so she does get some ideas into her head that are a bit difficult to dissuade her from, but for the most part she is a very good listener.

Marcus likes your easy presence in the house; you’re kind and patient and you are considerate. You have a real way with Missy, an empathy to you that is not easily found in most people. You’re always doing stuff for him. Making sure that dinner is ready when he gets home, something that wasn’t in your contract. He’d told you after a week of your cooking that you didn’t have to. You’d shrugged and said that you like doing it. He can admit that you’re pretty. The attraction had been almost instant, but he’d pushed it away, thinking that he’s just noticing you because of everything that you’re doing for him and Missy. He’s noticing your kindness and how you do things for him as well as for Missy that you don’t have to, but do anyway because you want to.

It’s inappropriate, having a crush on his employee. It would be crossing a line that is there for a reason. Not to mention he’s ten years older than you. He doesn’t want to pressure you or take advantage of you. He isn’t that kind of person.

Your friend and roommate Alison is convinced that you have a crush on Marcus. Ever since he insisted on calling him Marcus instead of Mr. Moreno (claiming that “Mr. Moreno makes me sound old”) at that first meeting in the coffee shop in June. You’d noticed his good looks and his soft but commanding when it needed to be nature long before you’d officially met him and started nannying for his kid. He’s a Heroic, a public figure, who is often in the media, trending on Twitter often, especially now that he’s started to work for them again. But seeing him in a tweet or on the news is different from seeing the real him. Who can’t make scrambled eggs for shit and hates wearing contacts because they hurt his eyes and enjoys his coffee with a hint of cream and loves his daughter more than anyone. The media flattens a lot of things. Seeing him in a day-to-day setting is way different to seeing him in the public eye. For example, you would never know that he hates using his telekinetic-magnetic powers when he doesn’t have to. Outside of showing off the first time he met you, he hasn’t used that ability once in the time you’ve known him. You’d been attracted to the public persona of Marcus Moreno – who hasn’t been? – but you like the real Marcus Moreno a lot more.

Marcus wants you to know the real him. Not the put-on version of himself that he uses for Heroics appearances or appearances in the press.

All that being said, you aren’t going to let your feelings be known. He’s your boss. Hard pass. You don’t want to be fired for harassment. You’re there for Missy’s sake and Missy’s sake only. However, that doesn’t mean you can’t look. You can look, but you can’t touch.

- - - -

Marcus asks you one morning if you can stay a bit later than usual. He has a date that night. You try not to let your childish disappointment show when you say, “Sure, that’s no problem.”

If he notices your disappointment, he doesn’t say anything. Just like he doesn’t say that the blind date is so he can move on from this ridiculous attraction he has for you. He’d seen you in leggings and a nice top the other day and had to go stand in the cold shower for a lot longer than he was willing to admit.

So, he prepares himself for the date, allows you to tie his tie, which is horribly, terribly ironic, and tells Missy to behave herself for you.

The date is perfectly… cromulent. It’s fine. Amanda is a nice enough woman. Pretty, enthusiastic, passionate about what she does. But as he sits across from her at the fancy restaurant that she chose, he thinks that he’d much rather be at home, doing tex-mex or pizza with Missy and you. It’s not that Amanda is complicated, she’s not. She just… doesn’t seem the type that would go for breakfast for dinner or sloppy joes the way that you do. She doesn’t seem to be the type that would dance with his daughter in the kitchen to Taylor Swift, or take her to the zoo or colour with her. She’s missing that warmth that you have. That unassuming loveliness you have and—

Oh, hell.

Marcus clears his throat. “Amanda? Um, I’m very sorry, but I have to cut tonight short. You’re very nice and it was good to meet you, but I don’t think this is going to work out.” It wouldn’t be fair to finish this date, to stay on this date when he’s thinking about another woman. His mother raised him better than that.

When he gets home, an empty box of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets is on the counter, broken down and ready to be recycled. Two dirty plates sit next to the box, not yet put in the dishwasher but everything else is as he left it. He can hear the telltale sounds of The Sea Beast, a recent favourite of Missy’s, coming from the living room.

When he sees you and Missy curled up together, watching the movie for what seems to be the six hundredth time, his heart nearly bursts at the sight. This isn’t just a fleeting crush he has on you, a brief attraction. He has genuine feelings for you.

Missy is sleeping, curled up on one side of you like a koala bear. You’re diligently watching the movie even if Missy is asleep. Marcus clears his throat and you look up. “You’re back early.”

Marcus sits down on the couch on the other side of you, careful not to wake Missy. Her breathing changes for a minute, then evens out and deepens, dead to the world. “Yeah. She was nice, but it wasn’t going to work.” He looks around at the room. “I see your night was much more successful.”

You nod. “Yeah. We read a little bit of her early chapter book, had some dinner, and now, as you can see, we’re watching a movie. Or at least, I am.” You press pause on the remote.

“I can take her to bed if you like?” Marcus offers, looking at you intently.

“Sure. Her teeth are already brushed and I gave her a bath after dinner.”

You’re just doing your job, but Marcus loves how you take care of Missy. Marcus scoops up Missy into his arms. She wakes for just a minute, then falls back to sleep in her dad’s arms. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you to bed,” he murmurs softly to her.

A few minutes later, Marcus comes out of Missy’s bedroom, shutting the door gently behind him. You’re tidying up in the kitchen. “Don’t worry about that, cariño,” Marcus says, the term of endearment slipping out unintentionally. “I can do that.” He grabs a beer from the fridge, holds it out. “Want one?”

You’re a bit flummoxed. “Uh. I have to drive home so, no. Thank you.”

“Oh. Right. Water, then? A soda?”

“Water’s fine.”

He pours you a glass of water and makes his way into the living room. “How was tonight?” he asks.

You follow him into the living room. “Yeah, it was good. Missy’s a really good kid.” You don’t have to go home right away, so you sit down next to Marcus, switching off the tv.

“Thanks again for staying late tonight and getting her ready for bed and everything. For everything you do for m– for us.”

You smile shyly, trying very hard not to notice the way Marcus is sitting very close to you, so close that his thigh is almost touching yours. “It’s no trouble. I like hanging out with Missy. I like this job.”

Marcus grins. “I’m glad. She really likes you, too.” There’s a pause. “I have this Heroics thing coming up in a few weeks. Sort of a social event, meeting with the Heroics branch in Houston.”

You nearly choke on your water. “Houston? That’s, like, three hours away.”

“I know. I’m not really looking forward to it since it’s so far away, but Priya Granada, my boss, says that since I’m stepping up again, I have to go. It’s a few weeks out. I’ll likely stay at the hotel and come back first thing on Friday morning. Mom’s out of town that week so I can’t have Missy sleep over. So I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind staying the night that night? I know it’s not in your job description, and I’d pay you extra, and—”

“Marcus. I’d be happy to. Just tell me when and I’ll be there,” you say, patting him on the knee. Marcus’s hand itches to cover your hand. He looks at your face for a few lingering seconds, wondering how he got so lucky to find you.

You don’t stay for much longer, since you have an early start tomorrow. Bidding Marcus a goodnight, you head out to your car and wonder the entire ride home if you misread the signs he was giving you tonight.

- - - -

Before you know it, the day of the Heroics event has arrived. You show up with an overnight bag slung on your shoulder, Alison’s teasing still ringing in your ears. You officially have it bad for your boss. Since the night of his failed date, you’re sure that Marcus might have an attraction for you, too. Either that or your feelings for him are clouding your judgment on reading things. Usually you’re good at reading other people. Even Marcus. You can tell when he’s in a bad mood or frustrated about something. But since that night of his ill-fated date, he’s been giving different signals than you’re used to.

You’re not uncomfortable with these new signals. Not by any stretch. You just wish you knew what they meant. You like him. A lot. To the point that when you use your vibrator these days, it’s him that you imagine when you close your eyes.

Marcus is already dressed for the event. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” he laments as he stuffs things haphazardly into his own overnight bag.

“The joys of PR,” you say drily, knowing very little about said topic.

He’s left a list of things that need to be done, Missy’s bedtime routine and what time she usually wakes up. It’s Thursday and tomorrow she has school, so she needs to be up at a certain time to catch the bus.

“The guest bedroom is being renovated,” he rambles, as if forgetting that you’re aware that he’s in the long process of painting the guest bedroom, “and the couch isn’t really that great for sleeping, so you will have to sleep on an air mattress in Missy’s room.

“I’ll figure it out,” you say.

He kisses Missy on the forehead and tells her to be good. Then he looks at you, and is it just your imagination or do his eyes flicker to your lips for a second? “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The entire drive to Houston, Marcus thinks about you and Missy when he’s not mentally bitching about this event that he has to go to. The only good thing about it will be the free, catered food, paid for by the Heroics bosses. He supposes it would be nice to meet some of the counterparts, mingle a little bit. And it’ll be the first night in god knows how long that he has to himself. He loves Missy, more than anything or anyone. But he needs a night where he doesn’t have to worry. Doesn’t have to think about getting her ready for bed or anything like that. He wouldn’t trade that in for anything, but having a night to himself is something that he can admit to looking forward to. He only wishes that he had someone — you — to share that with.

When he arrives at the hotel, he goes up to the front desk. “May I help you, sir?” asks the front-desk girl. Annie, her name tag says.

“Marcus Moreno here for the Heroics event.”

Annie types a few keys on her computer. “Very good, Mr. Moreno. The event is being held in the ballroom. Just through that hallway over there, across from the pool and fitness room. Was there anything else, sir?”

Marcus frowns. “I thought I was also getting a room?” he asks.

Annie goes into the room bookings page, searches for the name MORENO. “Did you make a reservation?” she asks.

“My boss was supposed to.” He resists the urge to squeeze the bridge of his nose, not wanting to irritate his stupid contact lenses. “Is there anything available?”

The front-desk girl gives an apologetic look. “I’m afraid not, sir. Between the Heroics event and the hockey tournament this weekend, everything is booked up. I’m sorry.”

Marcus sighs. It isn't the girl's fault. He should have double checked when he never got a booking confirmation forwarded to him. Made his own reservation and asked Ms. Granada to reimburse him. He offers her what he hopes to be a genuine smile. “It’s fine.”

He doesn’t relish the idea of driving home at one in the morning, but what else is he supposed to do? Marcus doesn’t really want to spend time looking for hotels. He knows that he wanted a night to himself but at this point, it’s easier to drive home.

He spends the entire night thinking about you when he’s mingling. Not strictly in a, “I wonder how she’s doing and that everything’s going okay” kind of way either. Most people have brought plus-ones to the event. Marcus is one of the few that doesn’t have a date or a spouse with him. He wants that to be different. He’s stayed away from dating for the most part because of Missy’s age and needing to be there for her. Missy will always be his top priority, but he can admit that he’s lonely in other areas of his life. The only time he’s not lonely is the fleeting moments he spends with you. There’s something there with you, something that could turn into the real thing. He doesn’t know how to broach that subject with you. It’s funny. Marcus Moreno, who charges headfirst into life-threatening things with the Heroics, doesn’t know how to tell you how he feels.

- - - -

The air mattress leaks. As soon as you lie down on it to test it after Missy’s on the bus going to school, it begins to deflate. Not good. By morning time, you know the air mattress will be fully deflated. You can’t sleep on it. It will kill your back. Just like the couch will. It’s soft on the couch, but not in a supportive way. The Morenos need a new couch, something that Marcus is already aware of.

You fret the entire day. There’s only one solution besides sucking it up. Which is to sleep in Marcus’s bed. It completely crosses the line. If he ever found out, he would fire you, you know he would. But he wouldn’t have to find out. He’d only be back tomorrow in the afternoon. You could easily have the sheets washed and put back on before he even knew. He wouldn’t have to find out. Plus he sprung it on you kind of last second.

It’ll be fine.

You go through the motions of taking care of Missy, feeding her, taking her to the park, reading with her. You give her a bath and get her into her jammies before tucking her into bed. It’s early still, so you watch something on low volume on Netflix until a more reasonable time to go to sleep. Getting into your own pajamas, you get into the bed. The idea of sleeping in your boss’s bed is not something you’ve entertained (okay, that’s a bit of a lie, you have entertained that thought, but under a very different context), so it is very bizarre getting into his bed.

You think you’re going to be too wired to sleep, but the scent of his soap and the laundry detergent embedded into the sheets from countless uses and washes soothes you. It’s a great bed. Way better than sleeping directly on the floor. You’d checked the air mattress again after dinner, still in Missy’s bedroom, and it had completely deflated. There’s a leak in there somewhere. You wonder when the last time it was used had been.

When you wake, it’s still dark. The house is quiet and still, so you have no idea what woke you up. It takes you a minute to remember where you are. Whose bed you are in. There’s movement at the door. You’re still mostly asleep, your voice groggy when you say, “Missy? Is that you?”

You blink the blurriness out of your eyes and switch on the lamp. It isn’t Missy. “M–Marcus!” You’re fully awake now, panic and embarrassment coursing through you. “What are you–I’m so sorr–”

The rest of your sentence is cut off when Marcus strides across the room to the bed in two strides, rests his large hands on either side of your neck and kisses you. You gasp, not having expected this at all. It’s not an unwelcome surprise, but you’re pretty sure that you might be dreaming.

Marcus breaks the kiss, panting heavily. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. Tell me that I’m not misreading things, that the signals are there.”

Blinking in confusion, you look at him. “You’re not misreading them. I’ve wanted to do that for a while, too, but…”

Marcus takes your confusion as rejection. “I get it. I’m your boss, it’s inappropriate.”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I was going to say, Marcus. I was going to say, I thought you didn’t want me the same way… the same way that I want you.”

He actually scoffs. “Are you kidding me? How could I not want you? You’re… amazing. You’re so kind and caring and warm and you’re so good with Missy. I’ve wanted this, wanted you for a very long time. Almost since I met you.” He can’t help himself, he has to kiss you again. “I stayed away because…”

You understand immediately “I know, that’s why I stayed away too.”

“I was going to broach the subject later. But then, seeing you in my bed?” Marcus can’t finish that thought; he hopes his hungry kiss is enough to tell you how he feels about that.

Still, you feel sheepish. “I should have called or texted before assuming. I’m s—”

“It’s fine, bebita. If I'd known you were waiting for me in my bed I would have come home sooner, sweetheart."

You’re still not sure if you’re dreaming or not. Your breath catches and before you can steady it, he’s kissing you again. You’re almost in his lap. You can feel that he wants you as much as you want him. After months of pent-up tension and pining, you almost snap like an elastic band.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Marcus tells you in between kisses. His mouth has moved to your jaw, working a line down to your neck. Every nerve in your body is on fire and you haven’t even done anything yet. The throbbing between Marcus’s legs that you feel pressed against you, combined with your own want for him tells you that that will change soon enough.

“I don’t want you to stop. Don’t stop,” you tell him.

Marcus kisses you as he takes off more and more of your sleeping clothes. “You always take such good care of us – of me. Let me take care of you for once.”

He takes such good care of you. First with his hands and his mouth, not stopping until he knows you’ve gotten what you need, until you are fully and completely satisfied with what his skilled fingers and his deft tongue have done to you. He doesn’t take long before he’s reaching for a condom, something he’s surprised he has in his night table and isn’t expired: it’s been a while. “If you feel uncomfortable at all, please let me know,” he says as he’s easing himself into you. “Tell me to stop and I will,” he repeats.

You don’t want him to, and you make it clear that you don’t by kissing him, wrapping your legs around him as he settles inside, pulling him as flush to you as possible as he begins to move. “Y’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs. You’ve always seen Marcus collected, sure of his words. Seeing him run his mouth, stuttering over words as your hips stutter against his is entirely new and entirely endearing to you, seeing how you have an effect on him in this way. “Take what you need, bebita,” he grunts. “Take it, it’s yours.”

You do, making sure he takes what he needs as well. He kisses you as you work through your respective highs, holding you close.

“I still got it,” he smirks.

“I’d say so,” you reply. “Holy shit. Not that I’m complaining, but that’s not how I expected to be woken up at…” you glance at the clock, “four-thirty a.m. I thought you were only staying there?”

Marcus grumbles. “Long story.”

You yawn, drowsy after the impromptu events. “What does this mean for…for us? For my job?”

He kisses your temple. “Sleep, querida. We can talk in the morning.”

- - - -

When you wake next, it’s broad daylight. You’re still naked from the events of earlier this morning. The bedsheets are rumpled beside you. You stretch, enjoying the burn in your thighs and the ache between your legs. You have to get up, get Missy to school—

Missy!

You’re about to bolt out of bed when you see the note on the bedside table, written in Marcus’s boxy script. Don’t worry about Missy, I’m driving her to school. You looked so peaceful sleeping I didn’t want to wake you. x – MM

Stiffly you make your way to the ensuite bathroom to take a shower. You don’t have your overnight bag with you, it’s still in the living room, so you take one of Marcus’s shirts, a green one that you love on him.

Under the steam of the hot shower, the night’s events play back in your mind’s eye. Had that really happened? Were it not for the burn in your thighs and the ache between your legs, you’d say that it had been a very vivid dream. It feels impossible.

You’re coming out of the bathroom, damp and dressed in Marcus’s shirt and your jammie pants. He’s carrying two to-go cups of coffee. “Hey,” he says when he sees you, handing you your coffee and following you to the couch in the living room. “Is that my shirt?”

“It’s mine now.” You both chuckle and then you turn serious. “About last night…”

Marcus stops you. “I know it’s inappropriate and unconventional, and I want you to know that it’s never been my intent to take advantage of you. So I understand if you feel at all uncomfortable.”

You have a lot to say; it comes out in a bit of a word vomit, but you can’t stop yourself from talking. “Marcus, I don’t feel like you’ve taken advantage of me at all. I know it’s unconventional but I like you. I liked last night. A lot. I like you a lot. I know there’s a bit of an age gap between us and that there is a perceived power imbalance because you’re my boss, but you’ve never made me feel that way. You’ve never exerted that power over me. If I didn’t want to be with you last night, I would have made it clear and told you. I promise.”

Though Marcus knows that already, knowing you well enough to know that that’s true, he exhales, relief evident in his features. He’s wearing his glasses again; he’d had to wear his contacts last night. He looks more like himself in his glasses. He bends his head and kisses you. “I’m relieved to hear that. I like you too. A lot. I have for a while. I just didn’t know how to tell you without making it weird. Last night just kind of… set things in motion, I guess? I don’t know. I just think that you’re wonderful and I didn’t want to not tell you.” He pauses. “Speaking of which, why were you in there last night?”

You feel warm and fuzzy at the admission before explaining the snafu with the air mattress. “I don’t know how this is going to work with Missy and my job, but if you want to hire a different nanny, that’s totally fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to come back last night. But I’m glad that you did. Very glad.”

Marcus strokes your knuckles with his thumb. “Me too. And we can figure it out. Speaking of Missy, we should let her know what’s going on. At least in a way that’s kid-friendly.” You agree with that, not wanting to confuse the little girl any more than she needs to be.

“So does that mean I can take you out on a date soon?” he asks after kissing you again. Now that he can do that, he can’t seem to get enough.

“I’d love to. But we will have to find a nanny,” you tease with a coy smile, excited at the prospect of whatever comes next with Marcus.

The End

#pedro pascal #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x f!reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #marcus moreno #marcus moreno fanfiction #my fic #my writing

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evanox · 4 months

Note

THEH RELEASED A TEASWR FOR THE NEW PJO SERIES!!!! IM THROWING UPPPO I LOVE ITTTTT

alright I’m calm now (lie)

So when you first sent this many months ago, I didn't know there was a trailer so I only found out through your ask. I was so, so incredibly excited when I watched it I didn't know how to put that excitement into words and thus couldn't get to your ask right away. Then I kept forgetting, and then forgetfulness turned into embarrassment because how could I answer this ask after leaving it for so long? In light of Rick Riordan's recent statement on the Palestinian genocide, however, I think there's no better time to get back to this ask than now. Do forgive me for using your dust-laden ask as a chance to vent out my frustration.

PJO was a huge part of my childhood; it was my introduction to fandom life as I set up my tumblr back in 2015 and followed any cool PJO blog I could find while also making my own shitposts. All of my first online friends were people I found through PJO, some of whom I'm still friends with to this day. Even as I started losing interest and distanced myself from the fandom, I still found myself seeking out PJO/PJO-inspired rp blogs to join because that's how much I loved the world of demigods.

So you can imagine how excited I was to hear that there's a more faithful adaptation of the series, one that Riordan himself approved of (unlike the-movie-that-shall-not-be-named). You can also imagine how Rick has very much fallen from my eyes, as has anyone who still puts him up on a pedestal and chooses to support him, after his statement.

When you don't know enough about something, the reasonable thing to do is A. educate yourself before speaking out on it, or B. literally just shut up. I find it very ironic how Rick made sure to establish at the very start of his statement that he's just too busy for social media, so busy he does not "read posts, reply to posts, or share [his] thoughts about world events," but I guess he still finds himself qualified to step up and preach about what's happening in Palestine. Palestinian journalists have lost their lives documenting Israel's atrocities (before and after October 7); families can no longer grieve in peace because they have to hold up their dead children before cameras in hopes that people will think we deserve basic human rights; after everything everyone has done to amplify their voices, I do not know he could come up with a take this bad. Maybe if Rick took a nice proper scroll through social media before taking on the moral high ground, he'd be singing a different tune.

He claims that fanmail was his window to both sides of the conflict but it's hard to believe he's been receiving mail from many Palestinian and Israeli children in the past 18 years when his contact information from as far back as 2011 mentions that his writing schedule had gotten too intense to keep up with fanmail, and his most recent contact information page says he's straight up not accepting fanmail anymore, physical or otherwise (I assume that was back in 2019-2020 since he mentioned remote work and safety measure related to the pandemic, but I could be wrong). Call me cynical but it's hard to take seriously his implication that children of both sides have come to him about losing family members to violence and waking up to the sound of gunshots and bombs when I've had to watch Israeli settlers take to tiktok along with their kids to make a mockery out of Palestinian suffering and flex having the basic resources Palestinians have no access to, while every video update filmed by Palestinians is backed by the sound of military surveillance drones hovering over their heads night and day. Israeli settlers get to make cutesy tiktoks about looking for gluten-free flour while Palestinian kids are digging for their toys under the rubble of their homes and gathering in hundreds and thousands to beg for a few spoonfuls of soup. The only bread they could bake is from the fire fed by debris from the wreckage of their homes. Yeah, both sides sure are suffering the same hell :((

"If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing." Actually, there are two sides to this and they're "genocidal illegal ethnostate" and "native people who were minding their business in their own land, welcomed survivors of the Holocaust with open arms, only to find themselves getting pushed out of their homes for the coming century." Not choosing a side (or preaching about how you're on the side of humanitarianism) puts you on the side of oppressor, period.

"It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies." Boy you're outta your mind if you think anything committed by Palestinian resistance is in any way, shape, or form equitable to Israel's crimes in the past 75 years. It's hilarious how he can admit that what Israel is committing is genocide but goes on to say that Israel deserves "security and support," but I guess Hamas isn't deserving of the same sentiment when it retaliates to 75 years of terrorism and ethnic cleansing. The best Palestinians deserve is "international aid," not like the very Israel you support has been blocking off any aid people have been trying to get into Palestine.

"If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to 'those other people' once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does," has the same energy as going bUt mArTiN LuThEr KiNg Jr BeLiEvEd iN nOnViOLeNcE while actively ignoring that he did end up getting assassinated at the end of the day, and also the fact that his message of nonviolence has gotten distorted over the years to villainize those who resist in a way that disturbs white peace a lil too much.

Never mind the fact that peaceful resistance has never paid off against Israel. Never mind the fact that Israel has been using "Hamas hides behind civilians!!!" excuse to blow up hospitals, schools, refugee camps, and homes when in reality they don't know jackshit about where Hamas is, and every claim at knowing the location of their bases turned out to be a ridiculously stupid lie. Never mind the fact that Israel has admitted to killing its own people because "they kinda looked like Palestinian civilians ig lol" and they're just too trigger-happy. Does that sound like a "country" that gives a horse's ass about peace to you?

And just like that, he goes back to promoting his book and talking about his trip in the same blog post, like talking about Palestine/Israel is a chore he checks off his list to make sure we all know what a good guy he is.

So yeah, I am sad that I won't be able to enjoy a show I was so looking forward to (and it does look really good), but I am a Muslim Palestinian before I am a fan, and we're all human at the end of the day. You have to be a special kind of ignorant (or racist, or straight-up heartless) to see what we've already seen and still preach about "peace (and a two-state solution teehee)<33" being the only acceptable solution.

Maybe it's because I don't have as many PJO mutuals as I did back in late 2010s, but I haven't really seen many people speak out about this on tumblr which is why I think it's still worth talking about even when this isn't the type of post I'd normally write. Please boycott the show (or like do me a favor and block me/don't put that shit on my dash if we're mutuals). I've always admired Riordan as a kid so the least he could do is pull his head out of the ground and take a proper good look at what's actually happening in the world.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #percy jackson series #percy jackson disney+#percy jackson show #pjo tv show

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moonlightndaydreams · 8 months

Text

Deep End - Part 5

Part 5: 3.5K words approx

Available on Ao3 HERE

Characters: OFC Aura, Minho, Han

Overall Summary: AU/ Minho is the new accountant at Aura's work, and he's got his sights set on her. But what happens when her ex Han comes back into the picture.

Workplace romance with a blast from the past for Aura.

Part 5 Summary: Minho and Aura continue their sexy times. Minho leaves a present on her desk that she has to wear to the staff meeting. Their relationship continues. They have sex in the podcast recording booth.

Warnings for part 5: remote control vibrator, more sex where you can get caught, protected vaginal sex, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, mention of creampies (if you look closely), explicit language, pet names, soft dom Minho, orgasms (always).

Read Part 4 Here

—————————————-

Hyunjin stared at Aura.

“What?” she yelled. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Are you wearing it?” he whispered, his eyes were excited.

Aura regretted not waiting until she was alone to open the gift bag that had been waiting on her desk. But how was she to know that she needed to be discreet? Minho didn’t put a warning on the card.

“I’m not sure you’d call it ‘wearing’, Hunjin. It’d be more like ‘inserted’.” Binnie explained.

“Fucking hell. Can we please not talk about it?” Aura cried.

“She’s got it in.” Smirked Hyunjin. “You can tell she’s anticipating it coming to life at any moment.”

Aura went bright red.

“I am not going to take my eyes off you in the meeting. I wanna see if I can tell when Minho switches it on.”

“You’re fucking sick, Jinnie.” Binnie said horrified.

Aura closed her eyes and tensed her vagina. She could feel the vibrator firmly inside her. This was not what she expected to find in the cute little bag that Minho had left on her desk when she arrived this morning. She thought maybe chocolates, or if he was feeling a little cheeky maybe lingerie. But a fucking remote control vibrator? Oh why did she open it in front of Hyunjin? He was more excited than her when he saw the box.

“You wear it then!” She suggested. Imagine Minho remote controlling it and sending Hyunjin into an aroused mess?

But Aura went to the bathroom and inserted it anyway, fixing up her underwear and smoothing down her skirt. Would anyone know? Would they be able to tell? She smiled at herself in the mirror. She was nervous and excited. “Well this is going to be interesting.” She said to herself.

———————————————

Aura sat in her usual seat in the meeting room. Hyunjin looked far too excited than he should, and Binnie wouldn’t dare look her way.

She had absolutely no idea what was happening in the meeting. Her eyes remained firmly on Minho. Did he have the remote? Was he going to use it? Was he just teasing to make her squirm? She couldn’t read his body language. He was focused on presenting his update, and when he wasn’t talking he seemed to focused on whoever was speaking.

Minho’s eyes flicked up at Aura, a hint of a smirk on his face. The fucker has the remote. She was sure of it. He looked back down at his notes and tapped his pen. Then he picked up his phone.

And then she felt it. She gasped, startled, even though she knew it was coming. Her eyes shot up to Minho, but he’d put the phone back on the table, forgotten, and was giving his undivided attention to Chris.

Aura tried her best to remain calm. Hyunjin had already noticed that something was happening, much to her horror, and Binnie blushed as he tried his best not to look in her direction.

The vibrations were set to some kind of pulse setting. It pulsed in such a way that it made her walls tense around it, then it would stop long enough for her muscles to relax. It quickly became a relentless agony. She squeezed her legs together hoping that would dissipate some of the tension. It didn’t.

Felix, noticing her discomfort, turned to her. “Hey, you should have gone to the bathroom before the meeting.” He said disapprovingly.

“She did.” Hyunjin offered.

“Well, you need to sort out your pelvic floor then.” Felix looked her up and down.

“Trust me, she’s doing her Kegels.” Hyunjin replied.

Just then Minho stood up and bent over Chris to whisper something in his ear, and with a nod and a pat on Chris’s back, Minho made to walk out of the meeting room. His phone. His fucking phone, sat on the table. Abandoned. Aura’s eyes widened in horror as she stared at the phone. Where the fuck was he going? Why did he leave his phone? Why was he teasing her like this?

“Oh, Minho?” Binnie called out. “You left your phone.” Thank you Binnie, Aura thought.

“Oops! So I did. Thank you Changbin.” And he came back to collect his phone.

As Minho left again, he caught Aura’s eye, and soon as he walked out she felt the vibrations intensify.

“I gotta go!” She shrieked standing up. Heads turned towards her, looking at her strangely.

“The meeting’s almost over, Aura. Can’t you wait?” Chris looked annoyed. She sat back down, using all of her resolve not to panic - or come.

As soon as the meeting came to an end, Aura was out of there in a heartbeat. She needed to get to the ladies room and get this thing out of her. Or maybe she’ll let herself come, then get it out of her.

“Kitten.” A hand grabbed her wrist.

“Minho. What the actual fuck? I need to-“

“Come? Yes I know. You were so good not to come in front of your co-workers. I think you deserve a reward.” He pulled her into his office, locking the door behind him. Then he pulled the blinds down over the glass window.

“On the couch. Quick.” He said desperately. This whole scenario had probably turned him on too. She ran to the couch, she was dying for relief.

“Sit down. That’s it. Spread your legs, let me see what state you’re in.”

She obeyed. Sliding her skirt up and spreading her legs. Minho sunk to his knees, his hand resting on her inner thighs.

“Fuck!” He sighed when he saw how soaked her panties were. “Let’s get these off you.” He peeled her drenched underwear off and re-settled his gaze between her legs. He reached for the part of the vibrator that remained outside of her body and pressed the hidden button to turn the power off.

Aura watched Minho’s expression as he slowly pulled the device from her. It was look of lust and concentration, his mouth agape as the vibrator slowly slipped out. A sigh escaped him once it was completely free. Then he took the entire thing in his mouth. “Don’t want to waste any of it.” He said after pulling it out of his mouth clean.

“How are you planning to reward me?” She wanted to know.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom. Aura bit her lip. She liked the idea of this reward. Minho was quick to free his cock. He was definitely finding this situation arousing. The condom was on in a matter of moments. “You’re going to have to stay quiet, Kitten while I fuck you.” He reminded her that people were working on the other side of the wall.

“You ready? Hold your legs up.” Aura nodded and grabbed the backs of her thighs.

“How’s that feel, hmm? Better?” He cooed as he slowly fucked her. He spread her lips, giving himself more access to push as deep as possible.

“Faster.” She whined. Minho shook his head. “I can’t have you screaming the place down.” But he did increase the force of his thrusts. Slow, deep and hard. That was how he fucked her, despite her begging him for more. He reached for the vibrator turning it back on and up to the fastest speed. “Here. Use this on your clit.” He puffed.

Aura placed the vibrator on her clitoris and immediately cried out. Minho shot her a warning glance. “I’ll have to take it off you,” he threatened, “or, I’ll have to make you be quiet. Which it is?”

“M…make me…be quiet…” she whimpered.

Minho brought a hand up and covered her mouth, forcing it closed so nothing but the tiniest protests escaped.

Then he fucked her how she’d wanted him to. Fast. She pulled her legs as wide as they would go. She rubbed her clit with the vibrator as hard as she could. She felt her body begin to shake involuntarily. She couldn’t tell Minho she was about to come, but the look in his eyes told her he knew she was on the verge.

And then she was coming. It was a long, drawn out orgasm. One that was still going as she felt Minho reach his climax too. He bit down on his lip to suppress his cry when he released himself into the condom.

It was only then that Aura noticed how sweaty and flushed Minho was. She probably looked fucked too. They both closed their eyes for a moment in the hopes that when they opened them again they’d look presentable. They didn’t.

“You’re fucking crazy, Minho. Who the fuck are you?” She said after she’d attempted to make herself decent and leaving his office to get back to work.

——————————————-

A knock on the recording room door a week later brought Aura out of her focus. It was after hours again, and Aura was just finished recording an episode for her podcast.

She looked up to find MInho standing in the door with two coffees, smiling.

It was becoming a bit of a routine for them actually. He appeared to work back often, and on evenings she wanted to record, she’d find that he would come and visit her when she’d finished.

“Just checking if you’re finished? Or I can come back?” He said.

Aura smiled. “All done with recording, Just finishing up on the laptop now. Come. Sit.” She gestured to the chair across from her.

He sat down and swiveled the chair around playfully, grinning. Aura eyed him suspiciously.

“What’s gotten into you Mister Lee Minho?” She smiled.

“I’ve got something to show you.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he scrolled. “Okay, you ready?” He asked and he stood up, plopping the phone on the table and pressing ‘play’. The chorus of Exo’s Love Shot started to play and Minho began to actually dance the choreography.

Aura’s hands flew up to her mouth as she let out a squeal, and her eyes widened. Holy shit! Once she got over the fact that he’d taken the time to learn and practice, she realised the man could move. His rhythm was on point, his facial expressions sexy, his ass enticing, and his body rolls were out of this world. How could the man have such control over every muscle of his body? How could he move so fluidly? How could he be so sexy and cute at the same time?

Aura giggled breaking Minho’s concentration. He stopped dancing and turned the song off. He sat back down seemingly embarrassed.

“Minho! Fuck you're an amazing dancer. No wonder you’ve been teasing me about my dancing. God, I must’ve looked fucking terrible?” She shook her head remembering back to how she over exaggerated her moves.

“Nah, you were cute.”

Aura poked her tongue out at him. She hadn’t wanted to look cute.

“Anyway, I think I’m finished. Let’s pack up and maybe we can- “ Aura stopped short when she saw Minho stand back up and make his way over to her side of the podcasting desk and come up behind her.

He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, pressing his body against hers making her swoon, and she leaned her head back into his shoulder, exposing the long column of her neck. Minho attacked it immediately, sucking her pulse and nibbling the skin. Aura exhaled, softening into his body, her legs quickly becoming jelly. His hands moved from her waist, one to her breast, the other on her neck.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, kitten.” He hummed. “What about you?” He bit her neck. “Have you been thinking about me? Thinking about me touching you like this?” Minho unbuttoned her blouse skillfully with one hand, immediately slipping his hand inside and touching her skin. Her entire body was buzzing under his touch. His fingers found the edge of her bra and he yanked it down to expose her breast. Aura exhaled sharply. Being exposed felt thrilling.

“Yes. Minho, I have.” She sighed. She’d been thinking about all fucking day in fact.

Minho released her neck and with one hand rolling her nipple between his fingers, the other came to rest at the back of her skirt where her zipper started. Aura held her breath as Minho unzipped her skirt and pulled it down over her hips, letting it drop to the floor.

“Fuck!” Minho dropped to his knees behind her. He slapped her on the ass a few times, the sound resounding through the room. “Grrr… I fucking love your ass.” He growled. He spread her cheeks and pulled her very tiny panties to the side so he could run a finger along her lips. Aura’s hands slammed down on the desk in front of her to steady herself as Minho’s tongue found her asshole and his fingers rubbed figure eights on her clit.

“Jesus, Minho! That feels so good.” She moaned and pushed her hips down to increase the pressure. How could this man make her feel this good?

Aura couldn’t take it any longer. Her pussy ached to be filled. “Minho… Sir. I need you to fuck me already.” She’d been waiting all day for this.

Minho lifted his head and chuckled at how Aura was falling apart. His fingers moved to the opening of her vagina where he pushed three fingers inside of her. The sudden, forceful stretch made Aura cry out and then melt around his digits.

Minho stood up behind her and wrapped his fingers around her ponytail, pushing her to bend further over the desk. Her head hit the microphone causing it to swing out of the way. Minho kept fucking her with his fingers. His fast, relentless fingers dug into her at the most perfect angle.

“Listen to how much your pussy loves this.” He said referring to the wet sounds coming from her vagina.

“I…I…need more, Minho. I need your cock.” She reached around and removed his fingers from inside of her and turned around to face him. With her best porno face, she opened her mouth and sucked all three of his glistening fingers at once. She took them in as deep as she could, sucking and moaning like she needed this or she’d simply die.

Minho sighed softly as he watched her with playful eyes. He slowly removed his fingers from her mouth and rested his hand on her jaw. The gesture was soft and tender. Minho would sometimes share this side of himself, Aura had come to learn. Sometimes when they found themselves alone, he’d smile at her knowingly and steal a soft kiss. If he was lucky he’d have a chance to grope her tits cheekily. He’d gaze hopefully into her eyes like she’d disappear if he blinked.

That’s how Minho was looking at her now. Like she was precious. Like she was needed. Like nothing else in the world mattered.

But then his mouth turned into a smirk. So he’d decided how he wanted to take her, then? Aura had come to learn that look too. The one where she knew he was thinking through the various ways he could fuck her, and the exact moment when he came to a decision.

“What’s that face, Minho? Trying to decide if you want to look into my eyes while you fuck my brains out, huh?”

“I wanna make love to you in a bed, Aura.” He said softly. That was not what she expected to hear. It went straight to her heart.

“Well, we can make that happen. You know that right?” Actually, Aura didn’t really know why they hadn’t gone home with each other yet. So far everything had taken place there at the office.

“I’d really like that, kitten.” He stroked her cheek and kissed her. “But right now you need my cock, isn’t that right?” Another kiss, this time biting her lip as he pulled away. His fingers finding her clit again.

Aura rolled her head back “Mmm… I do.” She moaned.

The energy shifted and things moved quickly then. Minho’s hands reached around to grab her ass and lifted her up to sit her on the desk. He pushed the recording equipment to the side to make room and swiftly unbuckled his belt. Aura reached out to help Minho free his cock. She wanted to taste it, but instead he pushed her legs open to nestle his hips between them, snaking an arm around Aura’s waist and pulling her close for a ravenous kiss. They were both panting with need, desperate to be connected.

“Wait, Aura… condom.” He puffed and pulled away to search his pockets. “Fuck!” he growled when he couldn’t find one. “I fucking swear I-”

“Fuck me anyway.” Aura looked at him with hungry eyes.

Minho blinked at her. “You sure it’s okay?” Aura could tell he wanted to but there was hesitation in his eyes.

“I promise it’s okay. I wanna feel you properly.”

Minho came back in close, taking hold of her again, kissing her sweetly and carefully. “I wanna feel you too, kitten. I wanna feel my bare cock slide through your cunt. Nothing in the way.”

Just the thought of Minho inside of her without any barriers made her wetter than ever. He guided the tip of his cock to her pussy and slid it up and down through her lips, paying extra attention to rubbing it against her clit. Aura needed him to fucking hurry up. They both looked down and watched as his cock began to penetrate her. Aura let out a gasp and Minho groaned long and low as they watched his cock disappear inside of her.

Once all the way inside, Minho paused for a moment. He swallowed hard trying to compose himself. “Fuck I don’t think I can last long… this is too fucking good.”

“Then just fuck me quick, cos I’m not going to last either.”

Minho chuckled at how pathetic and needy they seemed. “Okay, sweetheart, you asked for it.” He growled. He pulled her so she was closer to the edge of the desk and started to rail into her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him so she wouldn’t slip backwards from the force of his thrusts.

“Oh… yes… fuck… Oh God… like that…” the words were jolted out of her. “Does…my…pussy feel…good…Minho?”

“Fuck…grr…Aura…you feel so…fucking…grr…perfect.” He dug his fingers into her thigh, his other hand tugged at her hair. His lips attacked as much of her exposed skin as they could. Aura felt completely overtaken by Minho. She loved being the source of his pleasure. It felt good to the be one he needed for his release.

“You like me fucking you on a desk at work, huh?”

Her whole body was melting under his touch. She couldn’t distinguish one part of her body from another. Her entire being was buzzing with warmth. Her mind stopped working. All thoughts gone. Her only focus was the building tension inside of her. She hid her face in Minho’s shoulder, pulling him as close as she could. “I’m gonna come…” she whispered.

“Yes… grrr… Come for me, kitten…I can’t hold back any longer.”

“Come in me.” She pulled her head back to lock eyes with Minho, silently begging him to stay inside her. His eyes lost focus and his hips stuttered. It was enough to bring Aura to orgasm. Waves upon waves of release washed over her. At the same time Minho’s face scrunched up and his eyes squeezed tight and she could feel his hot release pulsing inside of her.

Minho remained inside her for a few minutes while they smiled and kissed each other. “If I pull out the cum is going to drip out.” He stated. Aura giggled. “Well that is what happens. Are you scared we’ll stain the carpet?” She raised an eyebrow. Minho kissed her forehead. “I kind of like it being in there.”

“Oh Minho, you’re such a nerd.” She teased.

“Ha!” he yelled defensively and pulled his softened cock out her harshly.

“Well, you’ll just have to keep on doing it so I’m filled up constantly.” She stated while she straightened her clothes.

“You’re that addicted to my cock huh?” he looked her up and down like she was some sort of sex fiend. “Hey?” His voice turned sincere. Aura looked up at him as she did the last of her buttons up. “I want to take you on a date. A proper one.”

Aura was caught by surprise. A date? She didn’t know how much she had wanted him to say something like that. She’d squashed the idea of Minho wanting something more than office sex out of her mind. She’d pretended she didn’t care. Did Minho really want more too?

“The silence doesn’t sound promising.” Said Minho.

“I…Would really like that.” She replied quietly.

Read Part 6 Here

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Authors note: Things are going to take a bit of a turn for the next while. We get more Han. You might hate me, but I promise things will get better.

—————————-

@2chopsticks2eyes @lyramundana @channieandhisgoonsquad sorry in advance for the next chapter.

#skz fanfic #skz smut #minho x oc #lee know x oc #lee know smut #minsung smut

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inlocusmads · 11 months

Text

new york, june 2014 ~ trystan thorne

When Trystan is thwarted with scrutiny upon his exile, he finds kindness stem from the most unexpected of places.

wc: 2.4k | general audiences

a/n: revised and edited!! this was originally written for pride month. this is also a 'pre-meeting before the actual meeting' fic, where Trystan meets Nora but is unaware it is her.

24 June 2014

All crowds meant the same to Trystan.

That day, he wore a cap to dodge the sunlight and carried a traveller's backpack with him. Inside the backpack was a guide to New York streets. A hundred and fifty two page handbook, complete with restaurant recommendations and directions to presently- abandoned hospitals, that was last updated in 2011.

There was also a camera, barely used. Mags had given it to him so he'd have something to occupy himself with. He'd taken exactly one picture - that of a lamp and had tucked it back inside. Just to take a picture and get a feel for it.

It had a wallet, free of any pictures. He'd stuffed them back in the plane and he doubted anyone would ever notice. Just enough hands-on cash, a credit card and his driver's licence. All brand new and laminated. To the New York populace, he was well-prepared. Trystan caught on to many of the local slangs and listened to enough English music to pass as a traveller as opposed to projecting a tourist image. He had figured out the streets and yet somehow found himself lost again in downtown Manhattan. No amount of prior homework could have prepared him for a new life, but he decided to take a calm rational route.

He found himself amidst a pride parade. A crowded stretch of a street where people stood by on the footpaths, holding up rainbow flags. Some had colourful clothing on, throwing things at the crowd of people that had gathered. Parade floats went by, mounted on trucks and music blared, a shrill contrast to everyone singing at a different pitch. Suffice to say, he was lost but he didn't mind it. Parades happened often in Drakovia, with steady marching music. Only difference was that only a few people controlled what the people could shout out.

Here, it was a mixture of sounds and yet somehow everyone knew what to say already.

A pamphlet was thrust into his hands even before he could say yes. It was a guide to all the floats that would roll down the streets, including a directory of what each pride flag stood for. There were a couple of queer bar recommendations, with their addresses and a couple of activities that the sponsors had generously contributed to. Trystan didn't need a pamphlet to know he was bisexual, but something about seeing it on paper made him relax a little. A restaurant had a pop-up soda bar propped outside on the street, selling rainbow-themed beverages. Armed with a drink and a snack, he proceeded to walk down the street, trying to pinpoint his location and conserve some phone battery at the same time.

Now Trystan wasn't completely naive. He clutched onto his valuables as close as possible. He kept his backpack close to his chest, obscuring it with his jacket. He constantly double-checked if his wallet stayed in the same place and announced his arrival as he passed by. A “thank you” here, “could you move, please” there ensured he got through the tough crowd.

The bandanna around his face was a lifesaver as he'd only previously noticed a local celebrity getting pounced on by endearing fans after they ended up getting spotted. He could only glimpse at the security swarming in to escort the celebrity to a float to get them to a safe place. Paparazzi swarmed the area with the vigour of a thousand buzzing bees. None of them seemed to show an interest in covering the parade, rather more keen on spotting if anybody with a remotely large following would show up. Rumours of Lady Gaga making a surprise appearance only furthered the people's anxiety. Trystan wasn't sure what they would do to him.

Would they out him as bisexual? Would they villainize him first? Would they detain him?

Trystan had long realised his identity made things a lot worse than his actions. The weight of the title of an ‘exiled prince' was too much to bear on its own, much less add ‘murderer’ to the mix. He had to be cautious. It wouldn't take less than a second for the news to reach Drakovia that he was spotted at a pride parade. Of course, admonishing his identity would be a popular choice among the staunchly prejudiced, but speculation would rise even stronger. Did Prince Trystan commit adultery? the headlines would say the next morning (Drakovian headlines were very precise in nature). Did, by any chance, our disgraced ex prince take upon a gay lover? An identity kept so secret, far from our beloved Countess?

Secrets would be dug up from his past, even things he didn't participate in. Trystan took a second, walked into a coffee shop and tightened his bandanna, thoroughly masking half of his face. Thick crowds continued to occupy every inch of every store there ever was, along the stretch of the road. A TV played the local news, highlighting pride celebrations across all the boroughs in the state. A special day indeed. June 24th. Three years since the state legalized same-sex marriage. Such an anniversary was definitely worthy of celebration.

As Trystan watched people go by, arm in arm with each other, nearly melting in the other's company - some likely married already, some awaiting this particular day to run to the courthouse to get their marriage licensed, some in their early stages of courtship - he couldn't fathom how it must feel for people to love and cherish without some kind of an advantageous prospect, promised along with the wedding. He thought of the Georgescus - how Eloise and Noemi’s marriage only became recognised by the eyes of Drakovian law because of the property they both had in their name, and not because it intrinsically was a marriage and they were two people who loved each other.

Drakovia was his home, but he wouldn't claim the palace along with it. It was a separate entity to him. A small ‘tch’ escaped his lips as his Google Maps redirected him back to the streets within the palace. He spent a while deleting locations, before zooming back into the map of New York, trying once again to navigate back home. Unfortunately, it was a lot slower than usual and the dwindling battery only discouraged him further. On top of that, he had a shadow.

Looking around, it seemed everyone had their own responsibilities to attend to but it didn't appear so. Occasionally he'd hear shouts of names from the other end of the cafe (“Samaya!” “Rie!”) and it seemed that people kept to themselves or took pictures with their drinks. Except there seemed to be someone watching him closely. He couldn't really make out any of her features; she had a table all to herself and had headphones on. For a second, Trystan suspected she might be with the local law enforcement but nothing she wore gave off such an implication. She had a purple drink in front of her, a jacket, a striped shirt under a waistcoat and yet there was something about her demeanour that suggested she was waiting for somebody. Ergo, someone with the law perhaps.

Trystan decided then he might as well leave. He could be wrong. Perhaps it was some unspoken rule among the Americans. You couldn't walk and sit down at a cafe without buying anything. The last thing he'd wanted was for the police to start prodding into his affairs and a familiar sense of flight or fight came over him.

Just before he could gather up his things and leave, someone fast as light grabbed ahold of his backpack sitting at his feet and careened out of the door. Trystan's screams died in his tongue, as he took off after the pickpocket, yelling “Thief!” desperately, but to no avail. The bandanna muffled his voice entirely and he could only tail his backpack-thief up until a certain point where he'd completely lost him.

“Follow me.” someone urged him. It was the woman from before.

She expertly navigated through the crowds and occasionally looked back to ensure Trystan was keeping up with her. It was then he could get a good look at her, but before he’d memorise her features, she'd turn her head away. The crowds grew and it became harder to push through one end of the street to another, but somehow she seemed to know what she was doing. Trystan allowed himself a moment of relaxation. Clearly if she was this patient, this methodical, it was likely she knew the pickpocket personally. A loose deduction, but a reassuring assumption nonetheless. Trystan followed her through the crowd for at least five minutes, covering his nose with the bandanna every time he could feel it slip. Another hand rested on his head, holding his unruly hair together.

Finally, they managed to get out of the more populated places and found themselves in an alley.

“All right, Matty. Come on.” Her voice was calm and collected.

“Seriously?” Trystan's backpack thief expressed surprise, but it quickly dissolved into resignation. “You know I need the money.”

Matty had the contents of Trystan's backpack emptied on the floor of the alley. He slightly winced at his wallet that was inches away from a muddy puddle of water, but decided to stay quiet.

“Who set you up for this?”

“Greg.”

“I expected that.”

“Come on - please just - please don't tell my mom.”

“I won't, only if you stop hanging out with him.” She let Matty collect the stuff back into the backpack.

“I owe him so much money, man. Don't know what to do anymore.”

“You need help, you come to me. Go home.”

She gave him a pat on his shoulder.

“You're a good kid. If anyone's giving you trouble, you don't hold it back. Tell your Ma. She'll take it. Albeit not well, but she will take it.”

Matty, the boy nodded, almost scared. Despite the woman's stoic one-sentence conversations with little to no substantiation, he hung his head in shame. The woman reached into her pocket, handed him a couple notes of cash, insisted he get himself something to eat and money to get back home and watched him disappear into the street.

“Sorry about that. I have been looking out for him for a while. Friend’s son.” She handed Trystan his backpack back. “I hope it wasn't much trouble, given it's your first time here.”

“No, not a prob- how did you know?”

Could it be the accent? Trystan found an immediate desire to suppress it.

“The New York Guide Book in your bag.” she said. “I recommend getting maps from the stand at the end right there-” - she pointed to a place where Trystan could vaguely spot a newsstand. “It's easier that way.”

“Right. Uh, thank you.”

“Also there's a -- um - library nearby. They're showing a couple of films. You can catch a movie while you wait for your phone to charge. They've got some free chargers too. It's a busy day, right?”

“Oh - I --” he decided he'd much rather not learn how she knew about his on-its-deathbed of a battery percentage. “Thank you.” - he cursed himself for repeating it over and over again.

“I would skip the pubs they've got on the pamphlet though. They're pretty pricey. I would recommend Paul’s. A queer underground bar for half the price.”

Trystan had a multitude of questions in his head. Namely, how she could somehow know he was queer. After all, pride parades had a wide number of attendees. He could have been easily taken in as a lost tourist - an image he'd carefully crafted. A worrying thought crossed his head. What if she somehow knew who he was? A random passerby who not only could tell it was his first time in the city, but also somehow snuff out that he was bisexual and quite possibly even an exiled prince. She hadn't of course, but he wouldn't put it past her to guess it.

The only other person he knew who could read people like a book was Gustav. He could tell you everything, from a royal gardener’s hidden incentives just from what they'd eaten for breakfast that day to knowing you reciprocated the same feelings, acknowledging it would be far difficult to put it into words but accepting it either way. Perhaps Gustav might have had a New York influence. Or New York could have had a Gustav influence. Either way, the last thing he'd wanted was to be reminded of him as well. Trystan had to say something. Thoughts jumbled into half-strung sentences and them into questions, before he managed to spit out-

“Paul's? That is the name?”

She chuckled. “Underground for a reason.”

A pause.

“Well. Have a good day. Happy pride.” she wished him, before tucking her hands into her pockets and walking into the swarm of people again, even before Trystan could ask her for her name. Or even repay the gratitude back. He hoped to one day, as he ensured his backpack had nothing amiss.

There was something different about the rest of the day. The crowd had seemed to part ways for him, almost exclusively. No longer did it seem sweaty or dreary.

Trystan followed her advice, getting a proper map and charging his phone at the library. He watched a film, albeit unable to follow through with it due to the absence of any subtitles, but when the audience cheered, he did too. Sarah and Morgana had their happy ending. The cast of the student film came out to personally thank everyone. The crowds slowly died down by late afternoon; the floats had long since retired and hopes of Lady Gaga making an appearance were squashed into atoms.

It was uneasily smooth for the rest of the day, which Trystan didn't complain about but the thought of people rushing to his aid nagged at the back of his head. Even though none of them really expected anything. The good people at the soda bar gave him an extra scone without him asking for it. The library people insisted he take some free merchandise that they had in large numbers, without needing a “thank you”. Not to mention the tens of people who pointed at him and screamed, “Love you!” without needing anything back in return. Some even offered free hugs and unadulterated kindness - a rarity in Trystan's case. And as a cherry on top, the woman helped him get his backpack back, without which he wouldn't have found a way home.

Someday he wished he could repay them all back. Repay her back.

He watched from the window of the taxi; the streets coming back alive after a momentary pause in the afternoon. The city had no shortage when it came to the amount of festoons that were fastened at the corner of every street.

“Hey, um-” he spoke to his driver. “How about you take me to Paul's instead?”

____

A/N:

As of 29 March 2024, this fic stands edited. I mostly took this decision because my previous draft came out when Crimes 2 wasn't airing. This is my attempt at a rewrite to be more "in rhythm" with canon (or what is left of it, that is lmao.

Anyway, happy pride! If this finds you in June, great! If it doesn't, it's cool, happy pride anyway lmao. In my headcanon, both Nora and Trystan are bisexual (I do hc they're also somewhere on the acespec and/or arospec spectrum as well). This fic takes place when Nora was still with the NYPD and Trystan's first year in New York.

Tag List:

Perma: @trappedinfanfiction @tessa-liam @peonierose @quixoticdreamer16 @writing-not

Crimes only: @lilyoffandoms @aallotarenunelma @jerzwriter @ofmischiefandmedicine @ao719 @cassie-thorne @twinkleallnight

If you'd like to be tagged for Crimes fics, please let me know! If you'd like to be removed from any tags, lmk!

#bisexual #cfwc pride bingo #choicespride #crimes of passion #trystan thorne & nora rose

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averagestudent03 · 1 year

Text

Birds Don't Sing: Prologue

(Pairing: Robin Buckley x Reader, Medical Au)

Word Count: 0.6k

Masterlist

Series Warnings: Blood, mentions of medical devices and practices, jealousy, expletives and relevant warnings per scenes & chapters.

---------------

"Rule one: Don't think."

Robin Buckley was never one for the long-lasting lectures. In fact, she hated them. Robin Buckley didn't hate much, but she could make an exception for the drawling tone of voice her lecturers held. Med school had taken anything even remotely interesting about the girl, the stereotypical hopes and dreams of saving the world, and crushed them beneath a large leather boot.

The lectures were the worst of it, she was certain.

Occasionally, when she'd stumble across a scribbled name on her timetable that she didn't recognise, she'd be filled with a temporary sense of glee only to realise that they'd be rattling on about the same nonsense that they'd shoved down her throat for the past several years. She'd lost count of when she'd started the torture, insistent on pushing and pushing whilst Steve cruised through his nursing exam.

Steve Harrington; what a bastard. He'd taken to the job instantly, connecting to the patients on a level that doctors rarely could. He looked after people, it coursed through his veins like blood. Mixing with the adrenaline and the rush of saving lives, Steve Harrington thrived on social interaction.

Now, Robin wasn't saying that nursing was easy. She'd seen her fair share of mishaps, and within the twenty-seven minutes and thirty seconds she'd spent inside Indiana Hospital, she'd understood how easily Steve had slipped into routine. He took absolutely no shit from anyone else, standing his ground under pressure instead of buckling at the knees. Steve Harrington was born for this, Robin had no doubt.

Her? She wasn't as sure. Med school had been easy for the most part, the information washing over and engulfing her like white on rice until she was a walking medical textbook. She knew her stuff, but had no experience whatsoever other than the odd stitches she provided the kids. She spent the prior years blurting out random medical facts to the others, boring Dustin Henderson and his gang of cronies to bits. However, she'd found that it was more than useful when the Upside-Down made an appearance every now and again. Both her and Steve had left the cursed town behind, at least four years of ruthless customer service under her belt before she even considered the medical field.

You on the other hand, Robin never thought she'd see again. The girl who had left Hawkins at the first opportunity, getting the hell out of dodge the second you could. You'd lost enough, the deaths of your friends rattling you to your core. She had no idea where you went, having avoided giving Nancy Wheeler any information about your new life other than the updates on yourself to inform the group that you were, in fact, still alive.

Evidently, you didn't go far. Not when you were stood less than twenty feet away, droning on about the rules of medicine with the staff lawyer by your side, enforcing your points.

You looked better than ever, adorning a white lab coat with fancy blue lettering embroidered onto your top pocket. Your face was stone-cold, showing no signs of pity for the newest interns or remorse for your harsh tone. No, you meant business; if anyone messed up, it could get someone killed, and the board would have your head, not theirs.

You needed them to stay focused.

Robin Buckley was finding that exceedingly challenging by the second, mind drifting back to the afternoons you'd spent walking across the cursed town, talking about nothing and everything all at once. Eyes fixated on her like she was the centre of your universe. The same eyes that she was certain she'd never see again, staring right back at her from across the class.

Robin's first mistake was she thought this was going to be easy.

Then again, when had you ever made anything easy for her?

-------------------

Tag List: @onceandfuturequeenofthecats

#birds don't sing #robin buckley #robin x reader #robin buckley x reader #platonic steve #nurse Steve Harrington #new fic #chapter update

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cleverpaws · 1 year

Text

NOT. a generation loss blog

dee en eye if you support that man and that skeleton and what they did in that cage..

actually im keeping the title like that its so fucking funny to me

salutation i am michael (he/they/neos) and uh. get intro post'd x100 - aroace and aplspec fool - bi and/or gay whichever is more comedically convenient - nonbinary dude 🎸🎸⚡⚡⚡⚡ there's no comma there for a reason - vaguely loveless <22222 peace and life - average library volunqueer - king of the wildly inconsistent art & writing styles <- Update we figured out why this was. you'll never guess - cartoonist 💯💯 - your local Mongoose - serial daydreaming problem - introvert??? extrovert???? i'm normal, thanks - AuDHD & NPD probably & probably like 1 million gazillion other Things at this point - the #1 hetch fan (shares this title with 3 of my beloved mutuals) - plural btw. i will now gaslight the internet into thinking i was open about this the whole time and you all just missed it

I RUN @showfallmanagement AND @lostnfounder THE SHOWFALL ASKBLOGS!!! COME SAY HI!!!

ALSO MORE RECENTLY STARTED @notslmccl do NOT go look at "chase" and do NOT poke him with sticks

dream team fans and harry potter fans you are not welcome here!! TRANSGENDER BLAST RAHH 💥💥

also no, people who think queer labels can "contradict" each other you are not welcome here either 💥💥💥 * my bi gay aroace nonbinary guy energy explodes you x100 *

things i am not normal about: - GENLOSS!!!!!!!!!! - ^ and, by extension, ENCOREVERSE!!!!!!!! - BITB!!!!!!!! - JRWI IN GENERAL I JUST PUT BITB FIRST!!!! - PSYCHOLOGY!! - MINECRAFT!!!!! - SPLATOON!! - ANGELS JUST LIKE AS A CONCEPT!!!!!!!!! - BODY HORROR!!!!!

things i am actually somewhat normal about (casual interests): - Studio Ghibli movies - Spirited Away, My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki's Delivery Service - cartoons (GF, TOH, Hilda, Amphibia, OtGW, Bee n Puppycat) - everywhere at the end of time - little nightmares!! - indie animation usually - ranboo in general somewhat - still sort of the dsmp - video essays!!!!!! esp horror video essays

i tag any and all posts that contain hetch with "#hetch generation loss" and any and all remotely sneeg/frank related posts with. shocker. "#sneeg/frank" go nuts gay people ("#asks" are also tagged)

(and if you go through "#saving this" you will find my many artist resources, recipes, and the occasional Insanely Good Post i think about every day)

ALSO!!! im like Never serious on here ever but just 4 the record (i dont even know if anyone will see this) please do not call me ur friend if i dont know you!! 😭 im aplatonic and while i do still have ppl i consider friends its personally just weird for me to be forced into friendships by people i literally havent interacted with that much (even if we're mutuals!!!!! sah ree guys) (saying stuff like "my friend" at the end of msgs in like that semi joking tone is fine though lol)

how ever...... mutuals r totally free 2 ask for my discord or msg me on here 💯💯

also if you EVER need me to explain any encoreverse lore to you i will drop everything to do so 😍😍

(all banners n images r mine except the mcytblr sexyman voted one by @/tmmyhug and the sonic narc abuse one by @/nicepersondisorder)

skittering sounds alright ill get out of your hair . the particles aren't though. yeah sorry man they uh. they really get stuck in there. sorry

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keichanz · 2 years

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hey i'm still alive

👀

uh so. how's it going. thought i'd give a little life update in case anyone was curious or interested >> tho probs not ;lajdfk;l

yeah i know i've been mia for like. a long time now, and tbh there's no particular reason why. i know i've lost some followers because i've been so inactive and haven't written anything in a long ass time. i do apologize for that. a lot has happened in the last few months and i guess i just wanted to give my friends and follows a brief little overview of what's been going on in my life and to prove that i am indeed still alive lol.

so most of you all know by now that i finally landed a good paying remote job yeah? and at first it was amazing. now? not so much. the schedule sucks ass, the management is balls, and the actual work sucks even more. i'm not happy there anymore so i'm currently looking for a new job. and im so desperate to get out of there i'm looking outside of remote jobs as well.

right now i'm waiting to hear back from an office technician job right here in my town that pays $27 an hour. TWENTY. SEVEN. guys that's $8 more than what i'm making right now ($19 an hour.) oh my GOD if i made that money i'd be able to finally move out of this god awful house with a flea problem that i CANNOT get rid of (my poor babies :( i've legit tried everything, even fucking professionally treated this house with orkin to get rid of them, had both of them get flea baths by a groomer and STILL i cannot get rid of the damn fleas. it's so fucking stressful y'all you cant even begin to imagine), finally get new tires for my truck, and live comfortably with extra spending money without having to worry about paying rent or buying groceries for the month. i'm PRAYING i get this job. even if it's not remote that pay would make it SO worth it.

anyway. moving on.

i've also gotten into a relationship with someone i was desperately in love with, then got my heart broken because he ended things. it hurt a lot. i got over it though, with the help of some pretty amazing friends, and one of my best friends. and right now, i'm currently dating that best friend lmao. so i'm in another relationship, and i'm very happy with him. our relationship began at the end of june, i believe. (i'll never forget the day he asked me to be his. y'all my hearT MELTED 😍😍)

it's a long distance relationship as tom lives in canada, but he did recently come to see me as evidenced by the photo above. i love this man y'all. he's amazing. there is one thing i'm kinda worried about with our relationship, but i won't get into that because thinking about it upsets me. but anyway he makes my very happy. ❤️

so that's pretty much what's been happening. i just haven't really been inspired/motivated to write at all lately, and i do apologize for that. it's just been a very overwhelming few months, with dealing with this damn house, ending a relationship and starting a new one, stress from a job that i'm really beginning to hate, trying to find a new one, and just a few other small things that aren't worth mentioning.

i do hope you all know that this doesn't mean i've abandoned writing or abandoned any of my stories. it's just been difficult to write anything lately but that doesn't mean i don't want to. i still love inuyasha. it's still my favorite anime. i still read fanfic (on occasion, when i have the time as i'm pretty much in a 24/7 discord call with tom except right now because he's at a dentist appt which is why im taking the time to write this -3-) and i still do think about my stories. hell, sometimes i even get an idea for a good oneshot and think to myself "shit i need to write that down" but then i forget about it and hate myself for the next 24 hours -_-

so yeah. that's what's been going on. i'm still around. i still get on here and reblog a few posts, mostly the ones i'm tagged in or some nice fanart. i do miss y'all and i hope my absence hasn't upset anyone or made them think i'm done with the inuyasha fandom. i'm most definitely not. it's just...sort of taking a backseat for now until i sort some things out in my life. definitely not preferable, but it is what it is, y'know.

my dear readers, followers, and friends, i love you all so much and i'm glad you've stuck around this long even though i haven't been around. you're the reason why i'm still here, why i want to someday get back to writing and giving you more content to enjoy and gush over. thank you for your patience with me and still giving love to my stories after all this time. i still get the occasional review for one of my stories, and trust me, i read every single one of them and they make my entire day. it's so nice knowing people are still reading my work and enjoying it. maybe it's selfish, but i hope you never stop, because reading those reviews gives me a huge boost when i'm feeling down on a particular day and it makes me feel like i haven't been forgotten, though by every right i should have been.

okay i've rambled long enough. in short, i just want to say thank you. you're all rockstars. i love you all. ❤️

until next time, my lovelies.

#psa #dammit keiz #i'm still alive #keichanz #wtf else do i tag this as #long post

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altocat · 1 year

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Goood morning! Saw your reblog about the comments, and, well, idk, the mood just seemed right- :3c

OMG YOUR TAKE AND DEPICTION OF SEPHIROTH IS PHENOMENAL 😭 It really, really, is, and something so incredibly unique from anything anyone else can do. You do the most important thing that can be done to a villain- humanize him ;-; And every element of that is tapped into: his insecurities, his interests, his wants, and his awareness of how little/how much control he has of his life. You explore the genuine extent of ShinRa’s hold on him, and all the ways that his perceptions are warped bc of it- and yet at the same time, his personality was crafted to be so rich that ShinRa couldn’t gouge it out completely. He’s his own person with his own longings. A human being. And in the core of all that humanity, is fear.

You make everything have a purpose, make everything in his life affect him in one way or another, thread by thread, ever since Gast. You portray his unwavering attachment to Genesis & Angeal in such a beautiful light ;-; Their entire friendship is so incredibly natural, and unlike the GAME, you show us how much they care for each other. How much they love each other- and most importantly, unlike the GAME, how much Angeal & Genesis cared about Seph. They take him, they break his walls, and they feed him pasta (his favorite!!!! Omg I still melt at the entire scene <33). But then, because the foundation is so strong, because Seph finally feels safe… his world really is shattered when the rug is pulled. And he’s never really fixed. He’s gradually breaking, and he’s tired- but he still has ShinRa. And he pushes on. And he wears himself out more. It is devastating and natural, and we’re sitting here watching this car crash in slow motion and being absolutely helpless about it ;-; You make heartbreak unbearable, and it’s beautiful pain ;-; ;-;

By the time he reaches Nibelheim, and Genesis drives in the knife, his collapse makes sense. We saw him beaten again and again and again, and how he struggled to stay afloat, and how he couldn’t tread anymore. He just… wanted to be wanted- and Jenova was there ;-; And it is clear that she was there from the very, very beginning; the hallucinations woven in are terrifying, and real, and accentuates how Sephiroth never really had control- he was an experiment and the consequences of that are never forgotten ;-; The entire library scene was… omg… I don’t even know- just masterful ;-; The culmination of everything- and it really is insanity. It feels like insanity. The perfect, horrifying blend of Jenova locking her chains and Sephiroth’s own emotions making implode ;-; His interactions with mommy dearest are chilling, terrifying, so twisted- monstrous. The threads have woven themselves into something unrecognizable. A villain. The Sephiroth from FF7. And in the end, Sephiroth finds peace plunging to his death, because he would rather be that ;-; The fic is amazing- beyond amazing- and I’m so, so, so glad it was written <333 There is SO much heart and love for Sephiroth poured into it, and it shows, and it is powerful. I will always cherish it as one of my favorite remotely Sephiroth-related things out there. TY for writing it <333

Phew. Have an awesome day!

This is the greatest thing I could have woken up to.

Thank you so so so so much hhhhh I love your wholesome SephZack fics as well and I'm always on the lookout for whenever you post. Your chapter comments are typically the highlight of my day every time I update.

Thank youuuuu

#Sephcanons #Asks #Ffvii #FF7 #Crisis Core #A Monster's Threads #Final Fantasy 7 #Bless Prismatic Pichu #We do not deserve her

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kitkat-the-muffin · 11 months

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Kingdom Hearts Social Experiment update!

We had to switch to remote gameplay due to Subject 1 moving out of state 😔 it was out of our hands

The plan is to continue Chain of Memories on my console with me operating the controls, and then Subject 1 will progress the other games from his own console

He even bought the original 358/2 Days, so we might actually play that instead of the cutscene movie (which was my original plan). We also intend to have a few in-person sessions when our schedules open up for traveling convenience

Today was our first session in a month and we did it over Discord. Unfortunately, we still did not record any visuals. I mean, it is a podcast after all, one that won’t see the light of day for several more years (my future self is gonna have such a pain editing all these audio recordings omg today alone was 3 freakin hours)

Anyway, to update on the experiment itself:

Subject 1 found out two names today! Larxene and Naminé, my how interesting. He didn’t recognize Vexen as Even tho which is hilarious to me as someone with a vendetta against Vexen

The “discussion questions” of today’s session:

Who could this Naminé girl be?

If she is an old friend of Sora’s, why did she disappear long ago?

What is her connection to the castle, and why is she being held captive by an organization of MoM-Cloak-Wearing fiends?!

Why did Elrena and Lea change their names?!

Why is Riku being a bigger angsty jerk than last time?

Does anyone even know about Ven sleeping in the basement?!

And who was the first cloak-wearing fiend at the beginning of the game?

All will be answered in due time

And for those who have no idea what I’m talking about: Subject 1 so far has only played KH1, KHX & KHUX, and KHBBS in that order. Therefore, he’s met every character in this game already apart from Naminé

This is what the experiment has been building up to all along: the discoveries affected by foreknowledge

Anyway, I hope those who’ve been keeping up with these updates enjoy these posts. The podcast recordings won’t be edited for a long time as I’m very busy with life right now and don’t have time to put subtitles on hours upon hours of audio footage

But someday they’ll be uploaded to the internet for all to enjoy, so thank you to the three people who actually read these posts for patiently waiting for that future day

#kh social experiment #kingdom hearts

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screechthemighty · 1 year

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Is this progress? Is this what actually working on things feels like? Is this a good omen for 2023? I can only hope so. Here's a God of War fic update (AO3 link in the reblog)!.

rose colored boy: part two

She’d been humiliated by a damned tree. That was the worst part. She’d been winning that fight, technically she’d still won, but it wasn’t the Travelers who had finally taken her down. She’d tripped. On tree roots. Faye wasn’t usually one for pride, but admitting that out loud when she came limping back to civilization was hard.

Walk as little as possible, they’d told her. Seven days of rest at least. It will be more if you push yourself. That was not the answer she’d been hoping for. Faye was tempted to push her luck, but she didn’t want to put herself out of commission for longer. Not when Odin still had minions that needed dealing with.

Hope they don’t get too comfortable over the next week. Or maybe they should get comfortable. Let them think she was gone for good. It’d get them off guard when she came back.

No, that’s not very convincing. Damn it.

Drawing in her bed didn’t hold her interest for long, so Faye tried to think of things she’d been meaning to do. The only thing that even remotely caught her attention was getting another tattoo. So she limped to the nearest person who could help with that.

It’s going to hurt.

I’m already in pain. It can’t get any worse.

Well, she was wrong about that one. But at least the pain behind her ear was distracting her from the pain in her ankle. Better the pain she chose than the embarrassing accident pain.

“Oh, Amund, you’re early,” noted the artist, Klara. Faye opened one eye. Her vision was a bit blurry, but that was certainly the tagelharpa player from before. “Someone got in before you.”

“It’s fine,” Amund said. “That looks…” He froze, seeming to finally recognize her. “Uh…I promise I’m not following you.”

Faye laughed, slightly strained. “Wouldn't I be following you in this instance?” she pointed out.

“Good point.”

“Oh, she’s the one?” interrupted Klara.

Amund’s shoulders hunched slightly, like he was trying to retreat back into his shell. “...yeah,” he said in a quiet squeak.

Faye would’ve looked at Klara, but that would’ve involved lifting her head. She didn’t want to risk ruining the tattoo. “Why, what have you been saying about me?”

“Just…the truth. That you helped us. That’s it, I swear.”

“Bit of gossip about your other exploits, too,” added Klara. “How’s it going with the Travelers?”

Well, that was a complicated question. “You know…they do a lot of yelling, All Father this, All Father that…” It was annoying, really. “Have there always been so many?”

“The cult’s grown a lot lately. Not sure what that bastard is promising them…”

“Easy answers,” Amund interrupted. He still looked embarrassed, but that didn’t stop him from speaking. “That’s…that’s the best way to get people to follow you, isn’t it? Say you have all the answers for everything that troubles them. Provide a convenient scapegoat as needed. There you go.” He sat down, wrapping his arms around himself. “We’re the scapegoat.”

He wasn’t wrong. Life could be difficult in Midgard. It was an untamed land in most places; at best, most people existed alongside it and hoped for the best. Odin tried to present himself as a symbol of order. If people only followed him, they could survive the harsh winters, the wild creatures, the draugr. If they only did something about that untamed element: the Giants, the one group he so far hadn’t been able to fully control.

“Well, best of luck to them. I can’t control the weather.” Klara sighed heavily. “Well, I’m sorry I brought it up. Anyone have anything better to talk about?”

Faye thought about it for a moment. “...how does one start tagelharpa?” she asked.

Amund perked up immediately. “Oh, my mother taught me. It’s a family thing.” He pulled up his sleeve and held out his arm and exposed hand. Faye had to blink away some tears to read the words carefully inked there. Steady hand–common for archers and musicians, it seemed. Careful touch on his fingers. She could see some other words on his neck, near the ear. “She’s good. She was better than I am, before her hands started hurting too much. I actually started on kraviklyra, but I loved watching her play so much…” He had pulled his hands back into his lap. She watched his fingers move, as if he were playing the instrument in his mind. “...I couldn’t help asking her. I can probably still play kraviklyra, it’s just been a while.”

He was lucky to have that connection to her. Faye wondered if he really knew how lucky he was. So many of their kind had lost that.

That’s how they’ll really kill us. They’ll cut us off from everything.

But Faye had brought this up to avoid thinking about that, so instead she asked, “What’s your favorite song?”

That got Amund talking. He had a lot of favorite songs, and detailed explanations why. Faye didn’t mind. She liked hearing people talk about the things they cared about. It distracted her from the pain.

He has a nice voice, she thought. Then, Where did that thought come from?

“Okay, done,” Klara said. “I think that’s it.”

Faye sat up carefully, trying to shake off the light headed feeling that flooded her body. “Is that a hawk?” Amund asked. “It looks lovely.”

Faye nodded and examined the tattoo in the offered mirror. It had hurt, but it was perfect. “I love it,” she said eagerly. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Here, let me get cleaned up and then it’s your turn.”

Faye limped over to sit next to Amund. “What about you?” she asked. “What are you getting?”

“Cleaning up some old ones mostly. I tried to do them myself, and uh…” He smiled sheepishly. “Learned the hard way there’s a reason people train to do this.”

Faye couldn’t judge. Honestly, she was a little surprised that she hadn’t tried giving herself a tattoo by now. That seemed like something she would do. “Do you want some company?” she offered. “You did such a good job keeping my mind off things, least I can do is help you out.”

Amund looked taken aback, then pleased. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Faye told him about her life back in Jötunheim, about the horses and the hunting, and even admitted to missing Guðrún a little.

She wouldn’t realize what the little smile on Klara’s face meant until later.

#god of war #god of war faye #fic: rose colored boy

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raaorqtpbpdy · 2 years

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Now for chapter four of six, introducing my OC: the GIW’s personal ghost Siri! Hope you like it!

(Chapter 1) (ch 2) (CH three) (chap five) (six)

BREAKING: NASA Lands Earths First Manned Spacecraft on Mars!

A tragedy following the wake of Danny's disappearance and the strange set of circumstances revealed between five points of view. But how did he get caught in the first place? And where did he go?

[TW: Implied psychological torture and brainwashing, ghost slavery]

Chapter Four: The Ghost in the Machine (Read it on AO3)

The Ghost—Subject <73>1EE—is one of the very first ectoplasmic entities the G.I.W. was ever able to capture and contain. It's been shuffled around various labs and facilities since the seventies, and it knows all of them as if their blueprints are inscribed on its core, though it no longer remembers what its own life or afterlife were once like.

It no longer remembers its real name.

The redhead, she asks it what its name is once, what it wants to be called. It searches its database for a name, but finds no record of one. It looks around as if its name might be drifting through the corridor, but it is not. It can see everything in the whole facility, clear as day—Agent Y is taking an unauthorized smoke break, but there is no reason to alert anyone as of yet. [Action Pending...] Looking down, it sees the placard at the base of its containment pod. Reading the plaque upside-down, as it is, it looks like it could say EEKEL, which seems like a fine enough name for a ghost.

"You may call me Eekel, if you wish," it offers. In the background, it updates its own file with the new alias, listing it as 'abbreviated/alternative subject designation'. [File Updated]

According to the facility's faculty database, the redhead is an unpaid high school intern by the name of Jasmine Fenton. She specializes in ghost psychology, and is notably credited with aiding in the seizure of the Ghost Investigation Ward's number one most wanted. This information would suggest that she has a neutral position toward ghosts, but she is kind to it.

She is the only one who has stopped to speak to it about anything besides asking for directions in a long time. All the information and resources in the facility are entirely at its disposal, it controls the communication systems, and security systems, and even the vending machines, but all anyone wants to know is how to navigate the sprawling corridors. Except for Jasmine. She wants to know about its mental state, about its memories, about its obsession.

It wants to answer her questions, because she is kind to it, to Eekel. Because it has not had any question more interesting than 'which way is the weapons vault?' in ages. It doesn't know anything about those things, however, so it can never give her the answer she is looking for.

"There is no relevant data available," the ghost, Eekel, tells her. It searches the database for anything that might be even remotely related. Normally, it would not do this; it would wait for further questions before volunteering information, but it likes her, likes that she notices it, so it offers other data. "If you wish, I can tell you about the history of this facility. I can give you access to the Ghost Investigation Ward files on ghost obsessions."

"Uh... no, thank you, Eekel," she says. Her brows furrow. She is uncomfortable. She pities it. She is frustrated. She does not want the information it has offered her—Agent Y has finished his smoke break and returned to his post; no incidents occurred during the unscheduled absence. [Data Expunged]

She is trying to be its friend, but it doesn't know how to have friends anymore, if it ever did. All it knows are the facilities. All it knows are the personnel, the guard rotation, the agents' hours and holidays, the subject designations, the experiments—a small ectoplasmic fire has broken out in experimental laboratory Warning: Fentons. [Ectoplasmic Fire Retardant Measures Enacted]

Eekel is the facility, its systems. It is not itself. Eekel opens doors and allows access to restricted files—the fire in experimental laboratory Warning: Fentons has been extinguished. [Data Logged] It does not know what it once wanted out of its afterlife. It does not know how to be friendly, but it appreciates Jasmine's kindness.

If she asked about the experimental substance transfer procedure, about what subjects were scheduled to be transferred in the near future, it would gladly answer that, but instead she asks if Eekel is happy, and it does not know the answer.

"There is no relevant data available," it says, apologetically, though its answers are normally so detached and clinical.

"Do you want to be freed from here, Eekel?" she asks, or perhaps it is an offer, but it does not matter to Eekel either way.

"I have no desire to be freed from this facility," it answers, pleased to finally have an answer to one of her questions, even if, by her expression, it is not the answer she was hoping for. Perhaps once, it might have wished for freedom, but if it did, it no longer remembers. Now, all it knows are the facilities, every part of them and everyone in them, and it does not desire anything more.

"Would you like to know the location of the nearest commissary?" it asks. Jasmine Fenton is human, and Eekel has observed that humans like to eat. When humans are friends, they eat together, but this is the closest that it can offer her. Eekel wants to be helpful to her, to repay her kindness—the protein bar Doctor J bought at the north commissary vending machine is stuck, she could be injured if she continues trying to shake it. [Kiosk C: E4 Cycled] [Data Expunged]

"No thank you," she sighs in response. "I'll see you around, Eekel."

"Goodbye," it says. "I am sorry I could not be of more help to you." Jasmine Fenton is new to the faculty, and it does not think she knows that it does not normally apologize for anything. If she did, she would have realized the breakthrough she made with the ghost.

It hasn't wanted anything in a very long time.

Now, it wants her to be happy.

Eekel does not get what it wants.

#brainwashing tw #ghost slavery #danny phantom #dp #original character #Eekel (dp)#Eekel (oc)#jazz fenton #guys in white #fic #invisobang 2022 #breaking: nasa lands earth’s first manned spacecraft on mars #chapter 4 #things i wrote

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