#but then again they are both equally pretty to me so idk

[ningtual]

i'm gonna be real i still can't decide

[clockmax]

! STICKY

>> jjk kink hc's

FT!  gojo, geto, nanami, toji

! warnings 18+CONTENT, MDNI. , not proofread, fem reader, pure filth, breeding kink, mating press, overstimulation, switch!gojo(?), fingering, p in v, raw sex(wrap it b4 u tap it tho!), riding, oral, praise, oral

~ A/N: re-uploading this from my old blog LOL idk requests r open and make sure to take care of urself ily ཐི♡ཋྀ  likes + reblogs + comments r always appreciated!

𓇼 NANAMI

I think as a fandom we all agree Nanami is a family man. He’s got a steady and stable relationship with you, so who better to have his kids then you?

I like to think he got baby fever after he saw you holding your niece for the first time ,just falling in love with how sweetly you spoke to the baby, how gentle you looked, like a natural mother.

It for sure got his cock in a stir.

Thoughts of you round with his kid filled his head, thinking of you taking care of the little bundle of joy almost had him bend you over in the nearest room.

Guaranteed for the next few weeks(at least) he’d have you bent over, pumping you full of his cum. He’d hold your legs close to your ears, putting you in a mating press while his cock pumps you full.

Nanami would just keep stuffing you full over and over again, overstimulating himself just to get you pregnant. Fucking you until you’re nearly cross-eyed from just how many orgasms he;s pulled from your sore, stuffed pussy.

Nanami who would keep fucking you sore every night until he sees  a positive pregnancy test. And even with that, he’d fuck another one into you as soon as he can <3

𓇼 GOJO

Whether he’s being overstimulated, or overstimulating you, this man loves it.(he’s a whore.)

With you, he loves seeing the fucked out expression on your face and he pulls out your nth orgasm, watching how you writhe and shudder as his fingers delicately work you open. Or when he’s fucking you raw with his cock, mushroomy tip hitting that spongy spots that makes your toes curl. He makes it his goal to cum at least 3 times before he even thinks about coming himself.

But it also goes the same way when you overstimulate him. Could be from riding him, sucking him off, or just even a simple handjob. I like to believe he’s got a sensitive tip, so it’s  easy to overstimulate him. And for a fact, he loves it.

He’s a whimpering, moaner, and groaner 4 sure. So you’ll know he’s come enough time when he starts getting more vocal than he already is. Or when his hips rut into your mouth or hand, or  just straight up holding your hips while he ruts up into you. 

He’ll keep both of you overstimulated until you give out, or he’s practically ‘shooting blanks’

𓇼GETO

Geto in my heart will forever be a soft lover. He could fuck rough, sure, but i like to think a majority of the time he treats you very sweetly(unless you’ve been a brat but thats a diff talk)

He just loves to fuck you, even if he’s fucked you so dumbed that its gone in one ear and out the other. Something about the sparkle in your eyes when he coos sweet words at you just gets him going even more.

“Open your legs, baby, ‘wanna see that pretty pussy.” He’d coax at you, leaving wet, open kisses along your thighs. 

“That’s it, good girl, always listening to me.” Geto praised. He’d always take his time with his fingers, mouth, or cock. 

He’d talk you through it, praising how well you’re doing, how pretty you look with that look of ecstasy on your face. He’s just smitten with you, and it will always show when hes got you in his hands.

𓇼 TOJI

Toji’s a sucker for oral. I will not be fought on this

He seems like he would enjoy receiving oral and giving it just as equally. But when i tell you he’d fuck your mouth, i mean it.

He’s the type to hold your hair in a pigtail, gliding your mouth along his cock; just the way he likes it. His ears suck up all the lovely gasps and gags you make, the small moans and whimpers. He’d love watching as you try to circle your clit and suck him off at the same time, watching as you try to find something to rub your dripping wet pussy against.

When he’s giving oral, he might just be enjoying it more than you. He’d have a wole feast down there, spelling his name on your clit, sucking your juices; there's really no stopping him and his meal. 

He just can’t get enough of the way your thighs squeeze around his head, or how your hands pull at his hair, bumping your clit up against his nose.

He thinks you look equally as pretty on your knees between his manspread, face buried in his happy trail as you suck at his cock.

Suguru Geto who loves just how shy you get whenever her teases or flirts with you. Whether it be the gentle grab of your ass in that skirt, or the way he whispers filthy words into your ears even if there's people around.

Suguru Geto who makes sure to kiss your neck and leave hickies, provoking those sweet, sweet whines and begs for him that fall from your pretty lips. 

Suguru Geto who buries himself between your thighs, arms locked around the fat of your thigs, tongue working onto your clit as if it was his last meal. His eyes stay on your face the entire time, pulling his mouth away if you dare to look away from him.

“Look at me baby, wanna see that pretty face when you cum.”

Suguru Geto who can say the most filthy things about you with a straight face, with the taste of your juices on his lips after making you cum 3 times. He loves the look of pure euphoria on your half lidded eyes.

Suguru Geto who still teases you when he stuffs your cunt full of his thick cock. It’s sinful with his hands roam around your body, leaving marks on your hips, and playing around with your tits. His eyes watch those lustful expressions on your face as his dick slides in and out of you, hitting all those sweet spots from the curve of his cock.

Suguru Geto who has you keep your eyes on him as he drills your overstimulated pussy, pelvis bumping on your swollen clit. 

“That's it, good girl. Looking so pretty taking this cock, cunt’s practically talking to me.”  He’d whisper in your ear, gently kissing the trace of your jawline, feeling just how hot your face was.

Suguru Geto who loves the fucked out look on your face as he makes you cum for the nth time. Hazel eyes watching how your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, body trying to squirm away as you squirt on him again.

Suguru Geto who cums in you over and over again, the lewd look on your face nearly imprinted in his mind. He knows just how much you love feeling the warm, hot, sticky ropes of cum paint your gummy walls.

“Spread your legs baby, that's it.. Wider. Good girl.” 

Suguru Geto who loves watching the cum drip from your cunt, mixed in with your juices. Sometimes he’ll go back to eat you out after he’s came inside you.

Suguru Geto who loves to tease you, get you all flustered and worked up just to fuck you dumb minutes later.

[othercrossee]

if youre asking about my writing for palina and irida in the timeskip one, its probably that they will never ever be as close as they were before. or its better to say they were never that close to begin with

[jjslvt]

AYO TECHNOLOGY ── .✦ mdni, 18+ .ᐟ.ᐟ

❝she wants it. so? i gotta give it to her.❞ 𓏲𝄢 (slight song inspo)

imagine sexting fwb!jj to the point of you two being absolutely frustrated and losing your goddamn minds. both of you had plans today but when you sent him that first risky photo, it all went downhill from there.

you two ignored texts from anyone else and went at it, from one nude photo to another until he started texting teasing words and you replied with even more filth.

his cock already leaking in precum when he started reading those messages and it didn’t take long for him to snake his hand down his boxers, recalling the feeling of your tight cunt around him.

> fuckin’ hell, mama…

[ 11:45 AM ]

> already touching yourself, jj? imagining my pretty little pussy like a cocksleeve?

[ 11:46 AM ]

he groaned at that, gripping tighter and giving himself a few pumps before replying.

> you know i am and idk what’s got into you baby but i ain’t complaining, holy…

[ 11:48 AM ]

> i was listenin’ to this song & thought of you… fucking me in every position, jayyy. been touching myself already… so wet…

[ 11:50 AM ]

and boy, did he love when his friend was this dirty for him. in fact, he hadn’t even hooked up with others since you two started this thing.

so, the sexting went on until it eventually reached calling each other after coming the first time because it wasn’t enough for you, nor him.

you both came again after hearing each other pant and groan into the phone, talking vulgar. you even went as far as to put the speaker near your pussy so he could hear every lewd and slick squelch which made him explode.

“hnghhh, f-fuuuuck… you…” he let out a guttural groan then tried to calm himself a bit. he just couldn’t get the sounds out of his ears, it’s like they replayed.

“babe, i don’t think technology is gonna be enough for papa j…” he sounded so wrecked and his cock was still painfully throbbing even after coming twice, he was still full stamina. every vein was protruding and felt hot. especially after hearing that.

you had some power over him, making him feel so desperate for you.

“yeah? need me, jay?” you barely panted out, equally as wrecked.

“god yes. i need you right in front of me.” he replied and you smirked to yourself because he quoted a lyric from that song. to think, one song turned your imagination wild and had you this horny for him.

“yeah? then papa j should come to mama right now… should come fuck my brains out.”

he instantly took that invitation, rising up from his bed—not giving a shit if he was ditching any plans with the bros. he needed you now.

“oh, you better be ready cos i’m gonna fuck you til you can’t walk… until you forget your own damn name, sweetheart- riling me up so much.”

that made you almost whimper into the phone, your cunt already aching to feel him inside of you and your stomach feeling butterflies.

“hurry up, jj… get over here and fuck me dumb.”

in record time, he arrived and had you riding him first on your bed as he stuffed his cock into you, thrusting upwards roughly with every bounce you gave. his hands gripping your hips so tightly, it might have bruised even but it all felt pleasurable.

you grabbed onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and he nipped your earlobe in return.

you kept rolling and grinding your hips when you rode him. both of you feeling extra sensitive from everything so he let out grunts into your ear, holding you close as you let out moans & whines every time he hit those spots.

it didn’t even end there because he really kept his promise and fucked you dumb, giving you every drop of his cum that he could muster until he was spent.

you fucking loved it.

both of you lying on your backs with the rapid risings and fallings of your chest.

“you… haa, really… did that…” you panted.

“hah. yeah, y’know i always deliver for you… were hornier than me i think, darlin.”

you huffed because he wasn’t wrong, though he got super horny too. you did start it so you flushed at that and he turned his head, seeing and smirking. he raised a hand to stroke your cheek.

“i enjoyed it… you can be needy for me. you can want me, this is mutual. promise to satisfy you every time.”

you felt something in your chest stir at that. he would get surprisingly soft after all the raunchy stuff and all you could do was nuzzle into his neck.

and he was also feeling the same. he wrapped an arm around you and wondered how much longer you two would keep up the whole “fwb” situation.

note: first smut here. hope it was worth something aha

[goldfades]

paige bueckers x medic reader blurb

idk why this has been on my mind but here's something to feed you guys while i recover from whatever the fuck last semester was

here’s the thing about paige bueckers: she’s annoying.

not in the throw-your-clipboard, tear-your-hair-out kind of way, but in the she’s-too-charming-for-her-own-good kind of way. the kind that makes your pulse skitter and your cheeks burn, and—worst of all—she knows it.

you’re certain she figured it out the first time she winked at you during pre-season. she’d just finished a shooting drill, her braid swinging like a metronome as she jogged over to your side of the court, flashing that grin—the one that’s equal parts mischief and sunshine.

“think i’m pushing it too hard, doc?” she asked, her hand brushing yours when you handed her a water bottle. your stuttered response? a dead giveaway.

and now, it’s practically her sport. teasing you, that is. not basketball though she’s otherworldly at that too. but here she is, six months post-acl surgery, stuck in the monotony of rehab, and somehow still making you feel like the one who’s sweating under bright gym lights.

“you’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” her voice cuts through your focus as you jot down notes on her progress for the day. when you glance up, she’s watching you from the training table, her injured leg stretched out in front of her, an ice pack wrapped snug around her knee. her head tilts, blonde strands falling loose from her messy bun, and there it is—that look.

“i don’t even know what you mean by that,” you mutter, knowing full well she’s waiting for you to take the bait.

she leans back on her elbows, her lips curving into a slow smile. “i’m just saying, if you don’t stay close, how am i supposed to recover? pretty sure moral support is in your job description.”

you roll your eyes, even as your heart hammers against your ribs. “pretty sure my job description is making sure you don’t blow out your knee again, bueckers.”

“so you do care about me.” her voice lilts, sing-song and undeniably smug, and god, you’re starting to regret all the years you spent chasing a degree instead of learning how to mask a blush.

you try not to sigh too loudly, scribbling something on the clipboard even though it’s just a nervous scribble now. she’s watching you like she knows—because, of course, she does. she always knows. it’s like she has a sixth sense for your embarrassment, and worse, she’s figured out exactly how to weaponize it.

“i care about all my patients,” you say, finally looking up from your notes to meet her gaze. it’s meant to come off clinical, professional, but the way her eyes sparkle makes you feel like you’ve said something embarrassingly sweet instead.

“but do you care about me more?” she asks, tilting her head, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

you deadpan her. “paige.”

“what?” she grins wider now, the kind of grin that should probably come with a warning label. “i’m just trying to gauge my ranking on the medic hierarchy. am i at least in the top five?”

“you’re lucky you even have a ranking,” you mutter, setting the clipboard down and moving closer to check her ice pack. you’re trying—really trying—not to make a big deal about how close you are to her now. but then her hand shifts, casually brushing against yours as she adjusts the pack herself.

and just like that, your resolve? gone.

“aww, come on,” she says softly, her voice lower now, almost teasingly gentle. “you can admit it. i’m your favorite.”

your lips press into a thin line as you busy yourself with checking the straps on the ice pack. “you’re impossible.”

“you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she counters, and it’s so smooth, so shameless, that you actually pause mid-motion.

you glance at her, half tempted to say something snarky, but she’s already watching you with this expression that’s somehow both playful and too much. like she’s trying to figure you out and enjoy herself at the same time. it’s unfair, really.

“is this what you spend your time thinking about?” you ask, attempting to sound exasperated. “ways to embarrass me?”

“not just ways to embarrass you,” she says, and the mock sincerity in her tone is criminal. “also ways to make you smile. you should smile more, you know.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to give her the satisfaction, even though—damn it—you’re already fighting the urge to crack a grin. she sees it, of course. she always sees it.

“you’re insufferable,” you mumble, stepping back to grab another piece of equipment you need for her session.

“but you like me anyway,” she calls after you, her voice sing-song.

you don’t respond this time, opting instead to take an extra moment to gather your thoughts while pretending to look for something in the cabinet. when you turn back around, she’s already back to lounging on the training table, her arms folded behind her head like she’s posing for a magazine spread.

“okay, let’s get serious,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back to anything resembling professionalism. “how’s the pain today? any stiffness?”

she shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something more serious in her expression. “a little. nothing crazy.”

“you need to let me know if it gets worse,” you remind her, stepping closer to start her mobility exercises. “overdoing it isn’t going to help your recovery.”

“yes, ma’am,” she says, her tone light, but you catch the way her eyes soften when she watches you. it’s different from her usual teasing—quieter, more thoughtful—and for a moment, you’re not sure what to do with it.

you busy yourself with guiding her through the exercises, focusing on the mechanics, the angles, the movements. but it’s hard to ignore the way she keeps glancing at you, her smile smaller now but no less present.

“you’re good at this,” she says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

you blink, looking up at her. “at what?”

“this,” she gestures vaguely, her hand moving to encompass the room, the exercises, you. “taking care of people. making them feel like they’re gonna be okay, even when they’re not sure they will be.”

her words catch you off guard, and for a second, you don’t know how to respond. it’s so… earnest. too earnest for someone who’s usually throwing out flirty one-liners and over-the-top winks.

“that’s… my job,” you manage to say, your voice quieter now.

she shakes her head, her gaze never leaving yours. “nah. it’s more than that. you’re more than that.”

and just like that, the air feels heavier, charged with something you can’t quite name. she doesn’t say anything else, just watches you with those impossibly blue eyes, like she’s waiting for you to say something back.

but all you can do is focus on the way your heart is racing, the way her words linger, soft and unshakable, in the space between you.

it was hard to forget the day it happened. the sound of it—a sickening pop that cut through the air like a gunshot—still haunted you sometimes, echoing in your mind when the gym got too quiet. you’d been courtside, clipboard in hand, watching as paige went down. she didn’t get up right away. that was how you knew it was bad.

paige bueckers wasn’t the type to stay down. she played like she was invincible, like nothing could touch her. but that day, she just lay there, clutching her knee, her face twisted in pain. it wasn’t just the physical agony that got to her, though; it was something deeper. you could see it in her eyes when she finally looked at you as you rushed to her side—this raw, unfiltered fear. like she’d just watched her whole world shatter in an instant.

“is it bad?” she’d asked, her voice barely above a whisper as you carefully assessed her knee. there was a tremble in it that you weren’t used to hearing, and it made your chest ache in a way you hadn’t expected.

“we’re gonna take care of you,” you’d said, dodging the question because you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth. not yet.

she’d nodded, but her jaw was clenched, her hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the bench where you’d helped her sit. and when the scans came back, confirming what you’d already suspected, the devastation in her face nearly broke you.

the weeks that followed were some of the hardest you’d ever seen her endure. paige wasn’t herself—not the confident, fiery leader everyone knew and loved. she was quieter, angrier, and you could tell she was struggling to keep it all together. rehab was slow and painful, and there were days when she’d show up to the training room with this blank look in her eyes, like she wasn’t sure she’d ever be the same again.

but then, there were the moments when you caught a glimpse of the paige you knew. the one who refused to stay down for long. like the time she’d walked in with her crutches slung over one shoulder, grinning like she’d just won a championship. “figured i should start carrying these instead of letting them carry me,” she’d joked, and for the first time in weeks, you’d seen a flicker of that unshakable determination in her.

those moments grew more frequent as time went on. she threw herself into her recovery with a single-minded focus that was equal parts inspiring and infuriating. there were times you had to physically stop her from pushing herself too hard, reminding her that she wasn’t invincible. but she’d just roll her eyes and flash you that grin, saying something like, “gotta keep you on your toes, doc.”

and now, watching her sit on the training table, her ice pack wrapped around her knee and her confidence radiating from every pore, it was hard to reconcile this version of her with the one you’d seen at her lowest. the injury hadn’t just changed her; it had shaped her, strengthened her in ways that even she probably didn’t fully understand.

“what are you thinking about?” she asks suddenly, breaking through your thoughts. her voice is lighter now, teasing as always, but there’s a softness in her gaze that catches you off guard.

you hesitate for a moment before shrugging, a small smile tugging at your lips. “just thinking about how far you’ve come.”

she raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “yeah? and what’s the verdict?”

“the verdict,” you say, setting your clipboard down and meeting her gaze, “is that you’re still a pain in the ass.”

her laugh is loud and genuine, echoing through the room in a way that makes your chest feel a little lighter. “you love it, though,” she says, grinning like she knows a secret.

and maybe she does. because no matter how many times she teases you, or how much she flusters you, you can’t help but admire her resilience—the way she got back up when the world tried to keep her down.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[dear-ao3]

hey wait im also new to f1 but i saw the other ask and i was curious abt what you meant when you said no one will ever do it like nico rosberg?? also retiring after your first championship win is insane lmao what a power move

nico rosberg is just. he’s insane. he’s cunty. he’s wonderful. he possesses sass and audacity unlike any other. we unfortunately do not have time to get into his whole story (my lunch break is only so long) but here’s some highlights:

-technically he’s a nepo baby. his dad, keke rosberg, won the world championship in 1982 and they remain one of the Few father son duos to both win a world championship (don’t ask me who the others are idk but i know they exist)

-he and lewis hamilton met when they were kids in the late 90s sometime and were gokarting teammates at some point in i think the early 2000s? (not fact checking i don’t have the time rn) and they were Besties. they’ve talked about this before, mostly in older interviews, but the gist is that both of them were outcasts from the other karting kid in opposite ways (nico was the son of a champion and rich and lewis was from nothing and pretty much the only poc most of the time) and that drew them together and they were Menaces according to legend. everything was a competition and they trashed hotel rooms and ate pizza and ice cream and kellogg frosties and went to greece and dreamed of being in f1 together

-nico signed with williams in 2006. his teammate was mark webber. and nico had long flowing blonde hair (this is important). he crashed at one race and mark webber said “britney’s in the wall” cementing the nickname britney, like britney spears. jenson button (another driver) said later on that they called nico britney because he was “very pretty” (do with that what you will)

-he was just. insane. cunty. constantly looked like a european bond villain. wore god awful shoes. whole bit. once he stayed in his car when it got craned off the track cause he didn’t want his hair to get wet. which is insane cause he’s wearing a helmet it would have gotten equally as not wet had he gotten out.

-anyway, lewis made it to f1 in 2007 and they had their first podium together i think that year (?) and it’s cute and fun and oh boy you’re not ready for what these two have coming

-lewis won the championship in 2008 (but he almost won in 2007, his rookie year) at mclaren.

-nico went to mercedes when they recentered the grid in 2010. his teammate was michael schumacher, who was fresh out of retirement. (yes the michael schumacher, 7x world champion). michael fucked with nico endlessly according to legend, including making him piss in a bucket pre race because he would hog the bathroom until the last possible second. nico still out preformed him most of the time, and the car was mid as hell.

-michael retired part 2 at the end of 2012. and who replaced him but lewis hamilton

-so the two of them were teammates again. the cards were absolute Stacked against them. because yes they were besties yes they’d known eachother forever but the first person you’re judged against is your teammate. and you’re trying to beat your teammate. and lewis already had a championship. nico wanted a championship.

-2013 was relatively chill. the car was kinda mid. they did well but not fantastic and did some fuck ass pr (highly reccomend looking those videos up)

-2014 they had a car that could win. and they started fighting eachother for wins. they played all kinds of mind games against eachother and withheld stats and nico ran illegal engine modes (supposedly) and lewis said they were no longer friends after nico supposedly wrecked his monaco qualifying one year but they claimed they still supported eachother and were friends off track. lewis won in 2014 and in 2015. but nico was right behind him and he wanted to win a championship, he didn’t want to be a number 2 driver

-so in 2016 nico did some insane shit. he stopped sleeping with his wife so that he could get better sleep or something, he did weird things to cut weight, he basically did everything and then some to win. and then he did. he won the championship and then at the prize giving ceremony announced he was retiring. he didn’t tell lewis this.

more after i get off work :)

[deeplymax]

! MIDAS TOUCH

☀︎ Kink Headcanons for jjk men <3

FT: gojo, geto, nanami, toji

CONTAINS: 18+CONTENT, MDNI. , not proofread, fem reader, pure filth, breeding kink, mating press, overstimulation, switch!gojo(?), fingering, p in v, raw sex(wrap it b4 u tap it tho!), riding, oral, praise, oral

A/N: i cooked i think, i tried a new writing style so erm! idk requests r open and make sure to take care of urself ily ཐི♡ཋྀ likes + reblogs + comments r always appreciated!

𓇼 NANAMI

I think as a fandom we all agree Nanami is a family man. He’s got a steady and stable relationship with you, so who better to have his kids then you?

I like to think he got baby fever after he saw you holding your niece for the first time ,just falling in love with how sweetly you spoke to the baby, how gentle you looked, like a natural mother.

It for sure got his cock in a stir.

Thoughts of you round with his kid filled his head, thinking of you taking care of the little bundle of joy almost had him bend you over in the nearest room.

Guaranteed for the next few weeks(at least) he’d have you bent over, pumping you full of his cum. He’d hold your legs close to your ears, putting you in a mating press while his cock pumps you full.

Nanami would just keep stuffing you full over and over again, overstimulating himself just to get you pregnant. Fucking you until you’re nearly cross-eyed from just how many orgasms he;s pulled from your sore, stuffed pussy.

Nanami who would keep fucking you sore every night until he sees  a positive pregnancy test. And even with that, he’d fuck another one into you as soon as he can <3

𓇼 GOJO

Whether he’s being overstimulated, or overstimulating you, this man loves it.(he’s a whore.)

With you, he loves seeing the fucked out expression on your face and he pulls out your nth orgasm, watching how you writhe and shudder as his fingers delicately work you open. Or when he’s fucking you raw with his cock, mushroomy tip hitting that spongy spots that makes your toes curl. He makes it his goal to cum at least 3 times before he even thinks about coming himself.

But it also goes the same way when you overstimulate him. Could be from riding him, sucking him off, or just even a simple handjob. I like to believe he’s got a sensitive tip, so it’s  easy to overstimulate him. And for a fact, he loves it.

He’s a whimpering, moaner, and groaner 4 sure. So you’ll know he’s come enough time when he starts getting more vocal than he already is. Or when his hips rut into your mouth or hand, or  just straight up holding your hips while he ruts up into you. 

He’ll keep both of you overstimulated until you give out, or he’s practically ‘shooting blanks’

𓇼GETO

Geto in my heart will forever be a soft lover. He could fuck rough, sure, but i like to think a majority of the time he treats you very sweetly(unless you’ve been a brat but thats a diff talk)

He just loves to fuck you, even if he’s fucked you so dumbed that its gone in one ear and out the other. Something about the sparkle in your eyes when he coos sweet words at you just gets him going even more.

“Open your legs, baby, ‘wanna see that pretty pussy.” He’d coax at you, leaving wet, open kisses along your thighs. 

“That’s it, good girl, always listening to me.” Geto praised. He’d always take his time with his fingers, mouth, or cock. 

He’d talk you through it, praising how well you’re doing, how pretty you look with that look of ecstasy on your face. He’s just smitten with you, and it will always show when hes got you in his hands.

𓇼 TOJI

Toji’s a sucker for oral. I will not be fought on this

He seems like he would enjoy receiving oral and giving it just as equally. But when i tell you he’d fuck your mouth, i mean it.

He’s the type to hold your hair in a pigtail, gliding your mouth along his cock; just the way he likes it. His ears suck up all the lovely gasps and gags you make, the small moans and whimpers. He’d love watching as you try to circle your clit and suck him off at the same time, watching as you try to find something to rub your dripping wet pussy against.

When he’s giving oral, he might just be enjoying it more than you. He’d have a wole feast down there, spelling his name on your clit, sucking your juices; there's really no stopping him and his meal. 

He just can’t get enough of the way your thighs squeeze around his head, or how your hands pull at his hair, bumping your clit up against his nose.

He thinks you look equally as pretty on your knees between his manspread, face buried in his happy trail as you suck at his cock.

[luxurychristmaspudding]

Mutual | Lucien De Leon x f!Reader

summary: you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice. but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.

pairing: lucien de leon x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. smoking, drinking. idk, hate fucking essentially. misuse of a champagne bottle, edging?, sexual tension, f!masturbation, unprotected p in v (you know what to do, and it's not this), oral (f!receiving). reader wears a dress and is implied to be shorter than lucien, but is otherwise undescribed.

wc: 4.8k

an: i succumbed.

The only thing you and Lucien De Leon have in common is the need for a cigarette after dinner. 

Nothing else.

You stand on opposite sides of the patio outside the open glass doors which lead back into Anna and Alex’s house, and you know that Anna, at the very least, will be watching you. Making sure you play nice.

Something you’d vowed to do when she’d called to invite you to this dinner party. Lucien will be there, she’d said, it’d be great for me, for us, if you two just tried to get along. 

So far, you’ve succeeded. You’d listened politely to his stories at the table, hadn't even rolled your eyes when he laughed and joked and flirted with your fellow guests. You’d drunk your wine and stayed quiet through it all, offering your own contributions to the equal delight of the friends who'd gathered. You’d been surprised when Lucien had smiled along with them, even going so far as to chuckle at your story about the dog next door.

And now, outside, the rule still stands. You eye each other as you smoke, finding yourself amazed again by the way he doesn’t speak. Not a snide thing to say, no quip to make, just him watching you. Eyes flitting from your legs, to your hips, to your chest, to your face. And you’d tell him to quit it if you weren’t doing the same thing. If you weren’t enjoying the way his silk shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, the way his curls flop over his forehead, the way his chains catch the light, the way his stupid, pretty eyes glitter across from you. You hate yourself for it, want to crack some nasty sentiment across the stone, but you don’t. 

You’re on your best behaviour, after all.

Something which Lucien has clearly forgotten as he pushes himself off from the wall he’s leaned against, stepping closer, closer to you by the bush with the red flowers. You brace yourself for whatever it is he’s about to say, for whatever smoke he’s about to blow in your face, gearing up for the taunt you’ll throw back. 

He stops before you, barely an arms length away. You tense, waiting.

He holds out the bottle of champagne he’d swiped from the table on his way out. You blink at him.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m playing nice.’

You stare at him, sceptical. This is not Lucien. This is not something you’re used to.

But maybe he’s trying, too. 

You take the bottle from him, and he lets it go easily. You watch him as you bring it to your lips, tipping it up until the bright fizz of the bubbles meets your tongue. He watches your mouth, pink slip of his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip as he drops the butt of his finished cigarette to the floor, not looking where it lands. You swallow, take another gulp for good measure, and hand it back to him. His fingers graze yours as you do. 

You freeze at the jolt of electricity his touch brings, hand remaining outstretched as he brings the bottle back to his side. You watch, aloof, as he plucks your cigarette from your fingers and flicks it into the darkness before slotting your hands together, mind swirling as he pulls you closer.

‘Come on. Want to show you something.’ 

Maybe it’s the wine, but you can’t find the words to protest as he tugs you away to a deeper part of the garden. 

Lucien turns you to face him at the furthest wall he can find, and you finally find your words as your back hits the concrete.

‘What did you want to show me?’

You glance around behind him at the flowers that burst from the ground, bright even in the darkening half light. The water feature Alex had installed last year trickles musically somewhere to your left, though you can't see it.

His answering grin is dirty, something fluttering in your tummy as you grind your teeth, nostrils flaring. You do not have the patience for this man, or the butterflies churning in your stomach.

‘Lucien.’

His hands find your waist and the curve of your ass in a flurry of movement, his grip strong, the bottle cold through the material of your dress. The air leaves your lungs. He hums as he draws himself close to your lips.

‘How beautiful you look tonight.’

You snort at him, disbelieving. He can’t be fucking serious.

‘Lucien, what the fuck -’

He cuts you off quickly, dipping to fit his mouth to yours in a searing kiss, hand moving from your ass to your jaw as he licks into your mouth. Your blood roars in your ears as your own hands scrabble to find purchase on his chest, slipping against the silk. You mean to push him away, but somehow you pull him closer, your body doing the opposite of what it’s told as you open your mouth further to him, groaning softly. He tastes like champagne and cigarettes, and you grip his neck to bring him further in, your other hand smoothing over his bunched shoulder, his strong bicep, down to his waist, fisting his shirt. He chuckles against your lips, and sharp anger surges in your gut. Shit. This is Lucien.

You use the hand at his middle to push him roughly away from you.

‘Get the fuck off me.’

He smirks, one hand still on your hip as he takes a swig from the bottle of champagne. You watch him, breathing heavily, stare as his lips close around the mouth of the bottle, and you're betrayed by what you’ve only pictured in your most secret moments. Your eyelids flutter, fingers twitch for him, cunt clenches around something that isn't there. He comes towards you again, and this time you close the gap, leaning forward to crash your mouth against his. You lick at the seam of his lips but he keeps them obstinately shut, and with irritation flashing through you, you drag your nails hard down his forearm in retaliation. He grips the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, and taking advantage of your open lips, spills the champagne off his tongue and onto yours. It's warm, still sparkling. Tastes like him. You swallow it down greedily, reminding yourself that you should be disgusted, certainly shouldn’t be pulling him in to kiss him again, shouldn’t moan so loud when he grinds his hips against yours as he rumbles how you drive him fucking insane against your neck. Shouldn’t be so wet, pinned up against this wall by a man you have long held such disdain for, shouldn’t grind back against him, shouldn’t be panting into his mouth like some kind of dog, shouldn't be forgetting where you are, who you’re with -

This time, you’re more forceful. Lucien stumbles back with hooded eyes and shining, swollen lips, his own breathing coming fast and deep. You stare back at him, still stunned, and without meaning to, your eyes drop down to his crotch, finding the fabric there tight with his arousal. He’s big, must be with the way his zipper is straining. Your mouth runs dry, your stomach swoops. Fuck.

You watch with as much disgust as you can manage as he palms himself roughly to relieve some of the ache, your own hands itching to do the same.

‘So pretty, baby,’ he teases, stepping forwards, head falling towards yours again. Why won’t he stay away? ‘So pretty, wanting me like this -’

‘Stop,’ you hiss. It’s unconvincing even to your ears, and he smirks like he knows. He knows. ‘I don’t - I don’t want you like this -’

He presses his forehead to yours, not touching you this time, instead letting his nose trace your cheekbone, your jaw, down to your neck.

‘You don’t want me like this?’ He purrs. You manage to shake your head. You can feel his smile as he laves a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, and you whimper, hot all over, so wet, so needy for him. He chuckles again. ‘No,’ he confirms. ‘Then maybe… like this.’

He sinks to his knees in front of you, curls mussed, lips parted, eyes blown. He stares up at you, reverent, taunting, as he skates his broad palms over the tops of your thighs, stroking the skin, murmuring how soft you are. Oh, and you are so fucking angry. So fucking angry as he grips and soothes your flesh, as he squeezes and kneads your ass, as you hold onto his strong shoulders and breathe his name. Even more pissed when he doesn’t have some kind of asshole comment to make, furious as he leans into you and presses kisses to where his hands have been, mouthing at your skin, leaving it wet with his spit, with champagne, so fucking mad as he sips from the bottle again and spills the liquid from his mouth onto your thighs, as he kneels back to watch it trickle over your knees, down your shins, to your feet, to drip onto the floor. You are on fire.

‘See? Beautiful.’ He murmurs. And oh, what you’d do. What you’d do to him. You’d pull at his hair and scratch at his chest and bite into his neck and you’d make him suffer, make him ache, make him feel the same heat you’re feeling. You just can’t seem to move.

Can’t seem to move as he brings his mouth closer to your cunt, splitting the folds of your wrap dress further, pushing his hands up to your hips, holding you still as he takes in your lace panties, the only thing covering you from him. He looks up to you again, burning with desire. Your cunt pulses painfully, and you hiss his name.

He smiles, cruelly.

‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he murmurs, ‘We’re playing nice, remember?’

Your retort dies in your throat as he presses his face to your clothed cunt and breathes in deeply. He moans loudly, and you whimper in response, hands flying to his hair at the feeling of his hot breath on you, tugging as he mouths at your pussy through the material. You feel his tongue, warm and strong, drag over the lace covering your clit and you groan, going slack against the wall. He nudges the swollen nub with his nose, his free hand coming between your legs to touch you.

‘So wet,’ he breathes, ‘That what I’m doing to you?’

You shake your head no even though he can’t see you, still playing with your pussy through your underwear. A plea bubbles up your throat, and you swallow it down. You will not beg Lucien Flores to touch you. You don’t even know how you got here in the first place.

But that’s forgotten as he moves again, kissing your clit through the fabric as he brings his other hand, still holding the bottle, between your legs. You hiss as he presses the lip of it to your hole, all protests forgotten as he grinds it against you, the pressure easing a small amount of the ache you feel.

You forget that it’s wrong as he uses it to push your panties to the side. Forget as he runs the cold glass through your wetness, almost do beg him to touch you, to lick you, to do something before he settles it against your slit, right where you think you might need it most.

‘Still don’t want me?’ he breathes against your skin.

A shallow breath escapes you.

‘Fuck you.’ You whisper, no conviction behind your words. He rests his forehead against your hip, and begins to press, begins to relieve some of that ache, that want -

‘Luce?’ Anna calls out from the direction of the house. You freeze, fist tightening around his curls, but Lucien is unphased, working the mouth of the bottle past the tight opening of your pussy. You gasp brokenly at the cool feel of it, fingers constricting even further. Lucien moans beneath you, moving to nose at the crease between your thigh and your cunt, pushing the neck of the bottle further in. You moan loudly, knees giving a little, and he clutches your hip tighter to keep you from falling.

‘Luce?’ Anna calls again, a little closer this time. You groan his name in response, torn between wanting more and wanting this to end before disaster.

The next Lucien? comes even closer, and you use your grip on his hair to pull his face away from you, tipping his head back so that he meets your eye.

‘Stop.’ You bite out. He grins and gives one more pump of the neck of the bottle. You whimper, head falling back to the concrete behind you as he removes it completely, rising to his feet with a groan. You watch, bleary eyed, leaking, chest heaving, as he dusts off his pants and adjusts himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He steps back and away, eyes raking over your body as he raises the bottle to his mouth, licking around the neck before taking a deep drink and disappearing back up the path.

He’s sick. You hate him.

You return to the house on shaky legs through the backdoor, hoping to make it to the bathroom, only to be intercepted by Alex. He’s scraping leftover food into the bin, and smiles as you enter before double taking at your appearance. You must look wrecked.

‘Are you alright?’ He asks, brow creasing with concern.

You hum, clearing your throat before answering.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

Alex raises an eyebrow at you.

‘Did he say something to you?’ he asks.

‘Did he - what?’

‘Lucien. Did he upset you?’

You blink at him. Right. Play nice.

‘I - no. He didn’t. He was actually quite pleasant.’

Alex stares at you.

‘Pleasant?’

‘Yeah.’

You hold his gaze for a little longer, feel a guilty little heat crawl its way through your belly. 

You’re warm, so unbearably warm.

‘Is it alright if I go and lay down upstairs for a bit?’ You ask. ‘I feel kind of funny.’

Alex frowns, placing the plate he was holding on the counter.

‘Sure,’ he says, ‘Do you need anything?’

You smile weakly, shaking your head.

‘No,’ you reassure him, ‘That’s okay, thank you. I just need a moment.’

The guest room on the top floor is cool, and the curtains are open. Warm, orange light floods in from the street outside, and you settle yourself on the middle of the bed, ready to get this over with. There’s no way you can go back downstairs with this need, this coil wound so tight in your belly. You swoop your palms over your body, nipples tightening beneath your dress, feeling the swirl, the drip of yourself between your legs. You grind the heel of your palm against your mound and moan softly, rucking your dress up to your hips so you can slip your fingers beneath the lace.

Fuck, you are so wet. So goddamn turned on by that stupid man that you may as well throw your underwear away. You sweep a finger over your clit, hips twitching at the contact, eyes falling shut as you dip the digit to your entrance to collect your arousal, working the nub in tight circles. 

Your legs fall slack as you build yourself up, moans falling from your mouth in quick succession as you imagine what it would have been like to have him take you there, against the wall. What it would have been like to be fucked with the bottle, to have his tongue really on you, mimicking your movements now, to fall apart against his mouth, see him pull away with your slick covering his face. You rock your hips against your hand, quickening your movements, fingers dipping in and out of your slit between working your clit as the coil tightens and tightens, as the hot, heavy feeling grows and grows, as sweat beads at your temples and the valley between your breasts, as you try not to moan his name -

Like you’ve summoned him, Lucien clears his throat in the doorway. 

You snap your legs shut, heart hammering in your chest, heat blooming through your cheeks.

‘You fucking - asshole -’ you seethe, and he laughs, eyes roving over your sweaty body. ‘Get out.’

‘Wanted to check you were alright.’

You gape at him.

‘Fucking bullshit, Lucien,’ you grit, snatching your hand out of your soaked cunt. You bundle it in the silk of your dress as you try to cover yourself, but his eyes follow, tracing the glint of your slick in the dim light. 

‘Seems like you’re okay, though,’ he continues, slouching against the doorframe. ‘Just look like you could do with some help.’

You choke on a laugh, frozen, glaring at him from the bed. He bites his lip.

‘You’re fucking insane.’

‘Insane enough to fuck you.’

You inhale sharply, trying to ignore the flash of arousal that shoots through you, clenching your jaw.

‘You are not going to fuck me.’

Lucien steps away from the doorframe, moving into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Without looking, he reaches out with one hand and twists the lock with a click. 

He comes towards you slowly, eyes hungry. Your heart is in your mouth as you watch him, adrenaline kicking in so hard even you’re not sure what you want. Aren’t sure whether you can admit what you want. 

He reaches the end of the bed before dropping a knee onto the mattress, reaching out to grab an ankle, pulling your leg flat. You burn at the feel of him holding you, preventing you from moving, from hiding.

‘Then stop me.’

You don’t. You can’t as he crawls his way up your body, as he touches every inch of skin he can so gently, so delicately. Fresh slick pools out of you at the feeling, at the sight - 

His stupid puppy dog eyes and floppy curls and broad shoulders beneath his silk shirt, silk shirt that looks like sin as it drapes over him, moves with him like water, and his chains, his chains, how they’d look swinging over you as he buries himself inside you, raw and hungry and -

You can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips as his hand cups your cunt, as his mouth finds your neck. Body quickly liquid, molten beneath his touch, legs falling open.

‘Please -’ it slips from your mouth before you can stop it, but it feels good, finally, to have him give you what you need.

‘Good girl,’ he says, ‘Playing so nice.’

He slips his hand beneath the lace of your panties, trailing two fingers through your arousal, mirroring your moan as he does. He circles your clit, dragging you back to where you were, drinking down your noises with his mouth close enough to swallow your breath, but not close enough to kiss. You stare up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, a line forming between your brows. You gasp, so pretty, and he hums, slowing his movements to an agonising pace before slipping them from your heat entirely. You whine at the loss, huffing against the mattress, pouting at him pathetically as he smiles down at you.

‘Let’s get these off.’

He kneels back to pull your underwear away from you, and you wriggle at the cool air that comes into contact with your cunt. You watch, breathless, as he bundles them up and slips them into his back pocket, irritated, but not irritated enough to demand them back. They were expensive.

He drinks in the sight of your bare pussy with ravenous eyes, resting his cheek against the flesh of your thigh. The scruff of his beard tickles and scratches, the feel of it so Lucien, but you can't find it within yourself to care. He brings a single finger up to trace through your folds, and you whine desperately, embarrassingly at the sensation.

‘Pretty enough to make a grown man cry, baby,’ he hums, nuzzling your thigh as he blinks up at you with burning eyes. ‘You ever made a man cry before?’

‘Yeah,’ you breathe, ‘Wanna see if I can make you cry, too?’

He grins, a dirty little thing, before closing his teeth over the soft skin at your hip. You moan again, and he leans in closer, licking a long, hot, wet stripe from your hole to your clit. You shudder, a broken sound escaping your mouth. God, what is wrong with you?

‘So sweet,’ he murmurs, ‘You always this wet when someone teases you?’

You arch your back against him, head turning in the sheets.

‘No,’ you groan, ‘Get this wet when I’m about to make myself come.’

He huffs a laugh against you before driving his tongue against your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. He is hot and wet against you, so strong and soft like velvet as he tastes you, holds your thighs apart with his strong hands, fingers pressing in so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. You writhe beneath him, hands flying to his hair, grinding up into his face. He licks and licks, devouring you, moving his head from side to side, gripping your hips to keep you moving against him as he quickly builds you again back to your high, sliding two fingers inside easily, curling them up into the spot deep inside you. 

You can’t tear your eyes away from him, the strong curves of his body, the sweat on his forehead, the way his eyelids flutter at your noises, those deep brown eyes watching you with something carnal, something possessive in them.

You whine and moan above him, keening as he reaches his other hand up to swipe a thumb over your nipple, pinching it as you plead for more, as you tighten around his fingers, as you flood his mouth, as the toil tightens again, as you teeter on the edge -

Lucien pulls his mouth from you with a wet sound, withdrawing his fingers at the same time. 

You cry out.

‘No,’ you whimper, ‘No, Lucien, please -’

‘Atta girl,’ he says, ‘I knew you could ask nicely. Knew you’d beg.’

Your back flies off the mattress as you reach to claw at him, ready to rip him to shreds, but he’s too quick, kneeling back again to undo his belt, unzip his fly, pull himself out, and oh -

Oh. Fuck. He’s big. The heavy weight of him held in his fist as he pumps himself slowly over you turns your clawing into gentler hands, and he moves so you can wrap yourself around his cock. He feels like silk, so close to his shirt, rock-hard and twitching as you move your hand languidly up and down his length, squeezing, swiping your thumb over his tip as it drips precum. It's hard not to admire him like this, hard to remember why you hate him so much. The ache between your legs borders on unbearable.

He groans loudly, rocking his hips before wrapping his hand around yours, untangling your fingers to hold himself again, guiding his cock towards your entrance. He runs his length back and forth between your folds, covering himself in your slick, feeling your clit twitch beneath him until you beg again - ‘Please, Lucien, please - fuck me -’ before he’s sliding home in one long stroke.

The air is knocked from you at the feeling, at how full you are. He hinges to cage you with his arms, and you clutch at his shirt as he begins to move, slow, so slow. He licks his lips as he watches your face, your mouth in a little ‘o’, neck straining against the pillow, and you move a hand to the back of his neck, wanting to kiss him, wanting to taste him, taste him taste of you. You want to take his plush bottom lip between your teeth and hold it there, hold it there until you taste blood. Bu he picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster, and you lose your grip, back arching as the delicious burn returns yet again.

‘Fuck -’ you gasp, ‘Holy fuck, Lucien, oh my god -’

‘I know, baby,’ he whispers, fucked out and broken as you already. ‘I know.’

He groans from somewhere deep in his throat, head thrown back to expose his neck, and you want to kiss him again, swallow him down, consume him whole.

You close your teeth over the chain that’s swinging in your face so he can't pull away, and he moans, forehead knocking against yours. You bite down harder, wanting it to break, wanting to shatter it, shatter him. As if he can feel it, he grinds deeper, harder inside of you. You feel yourself clench, feel it begin to spiral. You spit the jewellery out to whimper, scratch down the length of his back over his shirt. He feels so good. Feels so fucking good, and it’s infuriating.

‘I hate you,’ you whine breathlessly. He moans into your neck, breath hot and damp against your skin.

‘Yeah,’ he gasps, ‘Feeling’s mutual, baby.’

He marks the sentiment with a particularly dirty kiss to your throat, and with that, you see stars. You clench and break and stutter around him, splintering and bursting around his cock, crying out so loudly that he secures his large palm over your mouth.

‘Yeah, good girl,’ he pants, ‘Good fucking girl.’

You moan again, and he can feel your body twitch with the aftershocks, contracting and leaking around him. He takes both your legs in his hands and places them on his shoulders, folding you into yourself, fucking into you deeper, harder than before, hitting another angle even more intense than the last. You cry desperately into the pillow, wincing as you tighten again, impossibly fast, too intense, too far away to warn him. But he knows. He can feel it. Tries to hold himself back a little longer to fuck you through it, reaching down to thumb your clit, swiping through the mess you’ve made, he’s made, entranced by the sounds you’re making, the slick sound of him moving in and out of your cunt, the lightheaded feeling he’s got, the desperation, the urge, the need -

He breathes in the scent of your skin as his thrusts get sloppier, inhaling deeply through his nose. He wishes he could kiss you again. Wants to feel the press of your mouth against his, the breaths you take, your tongue against his.

But if he does, it’ll be over. The game will be up, because he won’t be able to hold back the real want he feels, where all this anger stems from. He’s so nasty, so mean because he wants you so bad. So bad, from the moment you met. From the moment you looked him up and down and listened to his arrogant introduction with a little sneer. He wants that attitude - wants to fuck it right out of you.

Your ankle smells sweet against his cheek, and he turns his head to kiss and bite the bone there, feeling you tense and pulse around him at the scrape of his teeth. You twist in the sheets, breathing ragged, eyes scrunched shut, fists clenching the cotton as you moan his name, as you try and bite back the gasps and cries of your second orgasm.

‘Again,’ he grits out, ‘Again.’

‘Lucien -' you cry, reaching for him, ‘Lucien, fuck -'

He comes at the first flutter as you clamp down around him. Buries himself right down to the hilt as he spills inside you, coming with a pained moan and a murmur of your name, eyes fluttering shut as he rocks in and out of your pulsing cunt, fucking his spend deep. He lets your legs fall from his shoulders as he catches his breath, steadying himself with a palm on the mattress as he watches you come down, staring at the rise and fall of your chest beneath your dress, nipples still straining against the fabric. He wants to take them in his mouth, wants to work you up to take you again, but he slips out instead, brushes his hair back from his forehead, watches his cum begin to dribble out of your puffy cunt. You catch him and reach down to run your fingers through the mess of you both, and Lucien looses a strangled groan as you feed it to yourself, tongue working over your digits. You remove them with a pop, sliding your legs closed and settling yourself on your elbows.

He kneels back on the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, trying to focus on something that’s not you for just a moment as you rearrange your dress and swing your legs off the bed. He feels like he should say something, something to cut across what you've just done. Something appropriately callous, but he can't bring himself to. Can't find it within him.

He hasn’t even finished buttoning his pants before you swan out of the room, dress as perfect as it was before, clinging to your curves, moving with your steps. You don’t look back at him as you leave, don’t utter a word.

That familiar flare of anger rises in his chest again. A muscle ticks in his cheek, and he sits down heavily on the bed, clasping his hands together over his knees. He takes a deep breath, exhales through his nose. He soothes himself with the thought of your cunt leaking his cum all over your seat downstairs, thinks about how it’ll ruin your pretty little dress. Tries not to think about how he won’t be tearing you out of it later, won’t be able to taste himself mixing with you like he wants to.

Tries not to think about the perfume you had applied to your ankles.

Tries not to think about how maybe, just maybe, you’ve thought about this, too.

[faith-forgxtten-land]

That smut you wrote for Donnie was so good OMFG do you think you could write something for 2007 Leo (if you write for them IDK if you do) where Reader is giving him a blowjob? 👉👈 

Mouthful | Leonardo

i definitely write for 2007! in fact, please send me more 2007 asks, i'm actually kind of obsessed at the moment because i rewatched it the other day and this ask kind of got me out of a writing slump, so thank you very much anon. also, i took 'blowjob' and made it more face-fucking because i felt like it... hope you don't mind! enjoy!

warnings: NSFW (not proofread, read at your own risk), slight choking? face-fucking, bruises, degradation etc. it's just a bit filthy guys. mentions of pussy for reader, awful title but i was blanking so bad so don't judge. everyone is 18+!!

summary: leonardo is a mouthful

word count: 887, pretty short

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your knees are aching, you can feel the bruises already blossoming like petals blooming, but you don’t dare move, not even to reposition yourself as Leo fucks your face harder. He’s not being gentle or loving tonight, not after you spent the entire evening teasing him, and you can’t help the way it makes your stomach clench and your pussy leak.

You groan drunkenly around his cock as he pumps it over and over into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease, then fucking down beyond. It's not possible, you know it isn't, but it feels a bit like he's fucking deep enough to puncture your lungs and the thought only makes you wetter. A whine that sounds more like a breathless wheeze escapes you as his hand wraps around your neck and he pistons his hips rougher and somehow even deeper.

Vision blurry with both pleasure and ecstasy, you moan something; it might be his name or a wordless plea, you’re not quite sure, but it makes Leo growl darkly as he tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you further down on his cock until your face is pressed harshly against his plastron and his sweat drips onto your skin. It’s filthy and not particularly comfortable, but you’re too far gone to care. You’d take anything he’d give you with a smile and a thank you, although your smile might be drunk and your words might be nothing more than slurs at this point.

“Please, Leo,” you say as best you can around his cock, heavy and thick and taking up all the space in your throat. "L-Leonardo." It’s the biggest you’ve ever taken or ever will take, bordering on too big, but that just makes you need it more. It’s so perfect, you think dazedly. You might whimper it out loud, too, judging from Leo’s tightening grip that burns your scalp. You feel dizzy, like you’re about to keel over even from where you’re kneeling.

“What was that?” He asks, face taut and jaw clenched as he holds himself back from pumping load after load before he’s through with you. “I couldn’t quite make it out.”

It's humiliating and tears are gathering on your lashes like diamonds, stinging and sharp, before rolling down your flushed cheeks. “Please,” you beg again and this time Leo barks a cruel laugh at how broken you sound, please sounding more like wheezing gibberish, the word unable to form from where he’s got his cock blocking your airway.

“You’re such a good slut,” he coos, hand squeezing tighter around your throat. He curses loudly as you whine in agreement, grasping firmly and feeling his length inside you. He can’t help himself as he fucks your face faster, using your mouth like a fuck toy, praise and degradation in equal measure pouring from his lips in tandem with the slap, slap, slap of your face against his keratin. “You’re so fucking good for me,” he snarls, hand still gripping your neck in a way you know will leave impossible to hide, three-fingered bruises. “So fucking dirty, such a perfect mouth for me to use.”

Your moan is loud even with his cock still deep within your throat and that’s what it takes for him to come undone. He doesn’t pull back, doesn’t grant you the slightest hint of reprieve as he spills thread after thread, filling you up until you feel like you're drowning. “Swallow it,” he gasps. “All of it.”

You try to do as you asks, desperate to please him even in such a pathetic state, and you almost manage. It’s impossible to swallow it all, and you cough as he pulls his softening cock out of your throat with an obscene squelch that ignites a modicum of embarrassment in the depths of your mind.

Leo, as smug as ever even as he pants like he's run a marathon, runs a finger across your mouth and down your chin with a self-satisfied smile, gathering what come you couldn’t keep down and pushing it back past your lips. “Come on,” he murmurs softly, and you let your mouth fall open, watching him with hazy eyes as you work instinctively to clean up every last drop he’s willing to give you.

He might be a conceited bastard, but he’s looking at you with so much love and affection, even after fucking your face with abandon, when you know you look like a drooling mess, and it turns your limbs to jelly. You sag against him and your breath catches as his smile turns soft and gooey and that hand still around your throat slackens into a reverent caress. “I love you.”

The moment doesn’t last long; his dark eyes darken further, traces of honeyed endearment melting as you try to speak. Your voice is wrecked. “I love you too,” you croak, and before you can blink you’re on your back and Leo’s there, strong and imperious above you, clouding your vision and blocking out everything but him.

You giggle deliriously as his teeth sink into the column of your throat, right over one of those already flowering bruises, and you make a mental note to call in sick tomorrow because there is absolutely no way you’ll be able to walk when Leo is finished with you.

[holycrimin]

Is It Casual Now?

12!Donnie x Reader

(Friends-to-Pining-Idiots)

AN: wrote this on a whim bc I'm bored and am procrastinating. and also because we don't get enough friends-to-lovers fics lmao (also might make a sequel?). also might be ooc? idk

warnings(?): not alot, mild cussing?, might be a little ooc, mention of apritello but only brief,

_______________

It was a warm summer night...

Actually, who were you kidding? It was freezing. Okay, wait, maybe a bit of an exaggeration. It was still cold though, you stand by that.

"Want me to lower the AC? You look like you're dying."

"hrnn... But what about your experiment-thingy-thing? Wouldn't that like... affect it or something? Or was that the other one?" You ask, sniffling. Oh yeah, did you mention you were sick? Because you're sick. Sick as hell! Haha! haha...

No but seriously, you felt like you were dying. You bet it's not even that cold.

"Nah, don't worry that was the other one. It's in the freezer."

"Aw dude, Mikey might eat it or something."

"No he won't, there're like, a million warning stickers on that thing, he wouldn't—" You gave him a look,

"Crap." He ran out of his lab and went straight to the freezer.

Wait a minute, why were you here again?

Oh yeah, the project. And to hang out with Donnie, sure that too.

He came back with his experiment-thingy clutched in his arms. You sniff, "Dude—" "—Gross,"

"Shut up, anyway,"

"Why didn't you put it in your freezer? You literally have one right there." You pointed at the small metal box (that you're pretty sure he built himself) next to his desk.

"Because there's ice cream in there, and I don't want to share with my brothers."

"So what's your plan now?"

"What?"

"Should we like.. eat some of the ice cream to make room for your weird jelly-thing, orr..."

"Well I didn't think that far, sure, why not." He places the container down on his desk and takes out a small tub of vanilla ice cream.

"Ew, vanilla? that's so... Vanilla." You smile,

"Excuse you, that's for me. This, is for you." He says, taking out an equally sized tub of cookies and cream.

"Bro that vanilla has nuts in it, you like your ice cream with nuts? Ew."

"Oh nevermind, guess this is going back in the freezer," He takes the tub of cookies and cream ice cream and tries to put it back in his freezer.

"Wait, hold on, your honor I'm innocent!"

He chuckles, you smile.

"Shut up, dork, take the ice cream."

"Speak for yourse— Oh, oops, nevermind I forgot you had full control of my ice cream privileges."

"Mhm, yeah, that's what I thought."

He hands you a spoon and you notice a little red button at the bottom of it.

"What's this for?"

"For heating up the spoon so that we wouldn't have to wait like, half an hour to eat the icecream."

"God, that's such a good idea, you're a genius."

"Yeah, I know right?"

The two of you laugh as you both open your tubs of ice cream. Well, it was more of an attempt in your part. You eventually got Donnie to open it for you.

"Oh wait, my project... Whatever, it's the weekend, I'll do it tomorrow."

"And that's why you end up pulling all-nighters and get all grumpy on us when we talk to you on schooldays."

"Shh... SShhhut up. Eat your ice cream."

He chuckles.

It's quiet.

"Soo... How're things with April?"

And that is definitely not the way to start a conversation.

"Eh.. You know. The same it always is."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And back to quiet. It's nice, but you wish it wasn't so awkward.

"..I should've given you soup instead. Giving you ice cream was a bad choice on my part." He stand up to take the ice cream (which was already a quarter finished, by the way) from you.

"Aww, come on Don. I can have the— ha..." You sneeze, "..have the soup later. After ice cream."

He snorts, "Come on," he gently puts the back of his hand on your throat, then your forehead.

"Oh damn, I did that as a joke, but you're seriously burning up. Yeah, no, I'm getting you soup."

You let out a whine of defeat as the tub of ice cream gets taken away from you, and hey, was it this cold before?

"I'll get you a blanket too. Why'd you even come here anyway?" He smiles a little, "And don't say that you needed help with your schoolwork. We already covered that like, a week ago? Get some rest, man." Before he leaves, he puts the experiment-jelly-thingamabob in the freezer.

"'Kay."

Why were you here?

Easy, you liked hanging out with him.

Why?

Because.

..Because?

Because he's fun to be around?

Might need to think deeper than that.

Who are you, my therapist?

You're literally talking to yourself.

Whatever. Because... I don't know, he makes me.. happy? that sounds weird.

Yeah. Keep going anyway.

This self analysis thing is getting weird.

And he's back. You smile.

"I got some hot chocolate too. Had to be quiet though." He covers the both of you with the blanket, and hands you the soup.

"Damn, you're cold too?"

"Yeah duh, turtles are cold-blooded."

"So you've said."

He leans back,

"You gonna finish your little experiment here?"

"Maybe. I'm tired."

"What time is it?"

"Uhh.." He checks his t-phone, "1:10 AM."

"Whatt... You're telling me I've been here for six hours?" It's fine, your parents were out of town. You liked it better here anyway.

"Also, I really don't think you should get that close to me dude. I'm, in your words, 'seriously burning up'."

"Ughh.. but you're warm. And I don't wanna get up." He dramatically lays his head on your shoulder, fake-snuggling up to you.

He gets a laugh out of you, he grins.

"I'm tired."

"Yeah, me too." Donnie yawns, pressing a button on his remote. Suddenly, the lights started to dim.

You let out a breathless chuckle, "When'd you install that?"

"A couple weeks ago. You said you didn't like how bright the lights were. So I made this remote to dim the lights, then I got distracted and made more options, then turned it into a slider... then just... booshhh... yeah."

"You remembered that?"

"Of course."

That's actually pretty sweet.

You smile at him. "Yeah?"

"Mhm. I'm gunna.... sleep. G'night."

"G'night."

And like that, he was out like a light. You just realized how close he was to you.

He's next to you, head basically on the crook of your neck. Both of you sharing the same thick blanket, with the empty bowl of soup that you didn't realize you had finished, and the half empty cup of hot chocolate.

And now, you start thinking to yourself,

Is there more to this?

No, you're just friends. Right?

But that tiny voice in your head that's getting increasingly bigger as the minute passes, is asking you:

Do friends do this for eachother?

Yes.

Are you sure?

What else could it be? What else could we be?

Do friends go out of their way to show up to your school in a disguise while it was pouring out to take you home?

He's just like that. He's nice, he's caring.

Do friends install fancy advanced remote-controlled lights just for you because you mentioned once how the lights were overwhelming?

..He's my friend. I'd do the same for him. Well, If I had the smarts.

But the difference is that you know how you feel.

Well.. Yeah.

Do friends leave lingering touches?

...

..Didn't he say he had a heater in here?

[justwinginglife]

thinking of a Hoshina/narumi x Vice captain! reader who was raised to be a traditional wife for wealthy clans 🤔 Like she looks and acts like what people would scream wife material and in the field she be an aggresive fighter but still keeping a graceful look on her....i imagine she'll be the type to use aggresive weapons like SMGs just to contrast her character

Disclaimer- I am a Hoshina girlie through and through and idk if I would even know how to write Narumi but I will give it a shot for you anon. Thanks for trusting me with this request, I will do my best.

Three's A Crowd

You always thought you'd marry well, after all, you'd always been told that being a wife was what you were made for. And not just because you'd been raised by a governess in a proper household, no- you made the act of being a wife look effortless. If being a wife was a job, you were the CEO. If being your husband was a prize, the raffle tickets would've sold out.

Your parents would joke to family friends that you glided out of the womb in stilettos, ready to host dinner parties with your best wine and your best smile. And then when you were the youngest female to ever make Vice Captain in such a short amount of time, people just assumed talent was in your DNA at this point. You could completely brutalize the hell out of a kaiju, not even get your hands dirty or break a sweat, and then be back home in time to instruct the household staff which table settings to use for dinner and maybe even recommend a nice dessert pairing for whatever meal the chef had prepared.

Now, coming from a well-established clan, you had always assumed you'd marry one of the Hoshina brothers as your family had deep ties to the Hoshina clan and you'd known them since you were young, but you had also recently caught the attention of the Captain of the First Division and you could never resist a man with power.

As the Vice Captain of the Second Division, you were constantly meeting with the Captains and Vice Captains of other divisions, but for some reason you didn't meet the Captain of the First Division at any of those stiff meetings. In fact, he never showed up so you thought you might never meet him. But fate must've had other plans because one day as you were on your way home from meeting with the Vice Captain of the First Division, a kaiju decided to take a bite out of a nearby building and that's where you met Gen Narumi.

It's like he had known they were going to strike because he was onto them in a matter of minutes, skewering them like a kebab. You were impressed but you didn't want to let him have all the fun, especially since this might be the only time you ever interacted with him again. So you raced him to take down the remaining kaiju in the vicinity, gunning them all down with equal parts aggression and grace. He had been quite impressed by your agility and the elegance with which you slew each creature. So much so that he actually started showing up to his meetings from then on just to get a glimpse of you. And then he got greedier and a glimpse just wasn't enough for him anymore, he wanted to talk to you, get to know you.

Soon, a rivalry had formed between Gen and Soshiro as they both raced after your heart. The two of them were so different, pretty much the only commonality they shared were their feelings for you.

Gen was a quiet lover, he'd shrug people off when they'd ask if he was seeing you, keeping to himself about the details. But then he'd secretly leave a vase of your favorite flowers for you to find the next morning and if you confronted him about it he'd simply say your apartment looked so sad that even a bunch of weeds he'd scrounged from some random field was an improvement to the place. The flowers were not in fact wildflowers as he claimed, you could tell he'd gone to great lengths to buy the most expensive bouquet he could find from the hothouse but he'd never acknowledge it.

Soshiro was the exact opposite- he was loud about his love. He'd sling his arm around you, and brag to anyone who'd hear him about what a catch you were. He'd remind you everyday how much he adored you. And though it bothered him that Gen was attempting to court you too, he always felt he had the upper hand, having never seen Gen make any grand gestures for you or declare his love for you as openly as he did.

You were used to many men vying for your attention but you never thought that two of the most powerful fighters in the JAKDF would be among your long list of suitors. In fact, the two of them paid such frequent visits to the Second Division that you didn't think you'd even have time to look at any other men. Not that they'd let you look anyway, they'd pretty much assumed that one of them would be the one to marry you.

They weren't wrong. You did intend to choose from one of them as you'd grown quite fond of your little daily routines with each of them. Soshiro was always the first person to text you something sweet in the morning, he wanted you to get a taste of what it would be like to wake up next to him. Gen was always going out of his way for you, picking up dinner from your favorite restaurant an hour away or buying you a pair of earrings you mentioned in passing months ago, once he'd saved up enough for them (you had expensive taste).

It was the first time you felt like more than just some prize, you were actually wanted and desired as a human being. You felt like maybe even if you didn't say the right things or laugh at the right time, even if you fell short of the perfection you'd worked so hard to achieve your whole life, they'd accept you as you were.

It was both a blessing and a curse as you knew you'd have to pick eventually. As different as Gen and Soshiro were, they both did not share well and this little arrangement you had, seeing both of them, would not hold up for long.

But you'd hold out for as long as you possibly could. For as long as they'd let you.

After all, true love is hard to find and you'd stumbled on double the jackpot.

[vikingknight90]

Those who forgot about the teaser trailer, I beg you to look at it again and then compare it to the finished movie version, the changes are hilarious like

In the teaser trailer, Miles is... SO awkward, he hides about a dozen more things (including underwear agdhsg) trips over himself and when Gwen looks at his sketchbook (she even only looks at one drawing versus several in the movie) he slumps over like he's dead that she just saw one of his drawings, meanwhile Gwen is just chill through the whole thing, acting like seeing Miles again is just a casual tuesday night, no hug, no remarking his "growth spurt", she's just like "hey nice to see you, anyway let's get out of here"? (I'm also pretty sure Miles is a slightly younger model here, it looks like a segue model between his ITSV and ATSV self, which is a curious detail. it might also be the model they used in the Spider Within short?)

then there's the final film version and they really said "you know what, let's make Miles less awkward and Gwen twice as awkward)

Miles hides maybe two or three things and briefly does the fake-deep voice thing but Gwen? instantly leaps for a hug, punches his arm, cringes at herself for nearly giving away that oh no he's hot is her first thought (like the "growth spurt" comment wasn't a product of that lmao), fangirls over his things and opens his collectible like that's apparently a normal thing to do in her universe (??) so it must be totally cool here too! she gains some leverage back when seeing his drawings and Miles is still embarrassed but at least remains standing behind her awaiting her judgement instead of nearly falling over, like it's hilarious how they decided that Gwen needs to be a more realistic awkward teenager seeing her crush again after a long while and sure Miles is awkward too but he still has some control of himself and has far more rizz than before (is that what the slang is nowadays?) and you gotta love the creators for that, the teaser scene in general made it seem like Miles' crush really was one-sided and he's still his awkward ITSV self who glued his hand to Gwen's hair, both their characters and relationship have evolved and speaks so much more in the final product and idk how to end this rant but just wanted to highlight it for those who forgot about the teaser trailer. (also for someone who wasn't that into gwiles in the first movie and the teaser did nothing to make me more interested it's equally funny to see how adorable and filled with chemistry I find their interactions now, all the credit to the atsv writers)

[russsiangirl]

art donaldson x reader headcanons ( both young and dilf art.. ) both banners by me!

starting off strong with young art ( heheh )

i feel like y'all met for a goofy reason

either he asked you for a piece of gum in a class because he ran out

that boy NEEDS his gum he can't live without it ( oral fixation? idk )

OR he saw you on the tennis court when you were meeting up with a friend of yours

you had heard of him of course, he had won the one tournament with his friend

but,, he sadly had his eyes on tashi duncan, not that you could exactly blame him, you've seen her - all lean muscle and tan skin.

that is until tashi starts dating patrick

he's kinda like a kicked puppy , a very jealous one

he's desperate to get his mind off of them, so he finds you

you're perfect for him, you're sweet, pretty, kind. but you're also pliable.

art's seen the way you'd look at him with those pretty eyes when he asked you a question, the way you would slightly stumble over your words

he would wanna laugh sometimes, not in a mean way, more of a 'how cute..' kinda way, yk?

he's a mastermind,, maybe manipulative but that just makes it better

he taps your shoulder one day and is like "hey so would you like,, wanna go out sometime?"

now you thought that he was just gonna ask for help with the assignment, but this- this was unexpected, but good. really good.

you obviously say yes & it goes great! after a couple dates you two start something that resembles a relationship

art is a sweetheart, buying you gifts, treating you to dinner when he can, taking you to his games - model boyfriend!

he loves being romantic and spending quality time with you

also double dates with tashi & patrick ( tension )

you notice the way patrick looks at art and you suspect something. had something happened between them?

you had heard about how tightly-knit the two of them were and something just didn't seem right

so after the date and you two go back to the dorm or wherever y'all are staying you ask him what was up with him and patrick

art shuts down, not saying anything and goes completely silent.

he's not one to talk about things like these or his past

art likes to talk as much as he loves to listen

like if you found a new interest and/or hyperfixation he would listen to you and find so endearing

he loves the way you get so excited and you just beam at him whenever you do something that makes you happy, it makes him just as equally happy

art also loves when you wear his clothes, he finds it funny how they drape over you since he's like six foot.

art does like being praised ( take that as you will ) but when you're reassuring him, especially after his games or practice or anything he just wants to shower you with all the affection he can muster <3

this is my late fathers day present to y'all.. enjoy

ah yes, art as a father, my favorite

he's not married at this point ( sadly no tashi, they got divorced )

he's a lot more tired than he was back in college, obviously

y'all definitely met at some sort of event, you were a reporter for a sports magazine who had sent you to cover whatever it was that you were there for

you just didn't know it would involve art

when you first see him, you didn't really know what to expect - but not this

art with his short-cropped sandy hair and pretty blue eyes and blonde lashes, he looks ethereal, almost like he doesn't belong here

he was distracted most of the interview, too distracted by you with your sweet voice and nice hands and silly questions

so you two rescheduled, over dinner! win-win, you get to spend more time with him and you get your job done

the two of you connect really easily and you agree to do this again, without the interview part

there's something about the two of you thats so entrancing to each other

IMAGINE WITH AN AGE DIFFERENCE

like you're 21 - 22 and he's like 32.. it only makes him crave you more, he can show you things you've never seen

you might be a bit skeptical, but art is telling you that you can trust him, he won't push boundaries, none of that and you do trust him

he does let you meet lily eventually and when you do, you're enamored with her, she's so sweet and you could see art in her

you knew about his past relationship with tashi, but you didn't mind

but older!art is also romantic, sure the paparazzi is interested in the two of you - so most of the dates are at home. he likes it better that way

ough,, this was a LOT - late father's day present yk.. i love you guys - enjoy this! like and follow if you enjoyed these hehe

[thelivingautomaton]

MANNNNNNNNN ok. not to get my SEVERANCE brainworms all over the place but i literally cannot stop thinking about this show. also i keep reading theories on reddit and some of them are really good and some are unbelievably stupid/media-illiterate. so i am dumping my wild predictions/theorizing/thoughts on season 2 here. Please Enjoy Every Bullet Point Equally(TM)

OKAY let's get the big one out of the way: it seems pretty apparent now that cold harbor (and maybe all of the datasets mdr is given to "refine") is binning memories/experiences/brainwaves into severance chips, likely in order to reformat or rebuild someone's personality from the ground up.

this reddit post sums a lot of the evidence up but tl;dr you see an electron microscopy image of neural axons, as well as an etCO2 statistic, which is typically used to monitor respiration of someone who's in a coma or on ventilation

MOREOVER, the four aspects of mdr's data line up with kier eagan's four tempers (woe, frolic, dread, malice -- i've also seen it pointed out that this aligns with the four mdr workers, and in the original pilot script there's a reference to "needing" four workers, but iirc they all work on separate files??), and apparently one of his Whole Things(TM) was the idea that you can neatly sort a person's entire personality into those four boxes

the numbers provoke an emotional response in the refiner based on their interpretation of the data, which we can surmise is likely neural/electrical signals of some kind, specifically from brains that have been frozen or cryogenically preserved and are slowly being thawed. hence all the stress over "finishing" files on time, before they "expire" (i.e. brain thaws too much)

the opening credits for season 2 places a HUGE emphasis on big swollen misshapen heads, on brains, and also on ice...including a blink-and-you-miss-it glimpse of a crashed car sinking into the ice, which takes us into our next big point:

gemma obviously didn't die in the car crash BUT!!! lumon taking her and (presumably) replacing her body with a double (mark says he identified her but that she was also "burned" so that's obviously questionable) was actually something of a random fluke. for whatever reason the circumstances of her death made it so that she was ideal to use as a guinea pig for "part-time employment"

again, kind of going off the s2 opening credits here and the image of the car sinking into the ice -- obvs mark visited the tree where she crashed, but i feel like i remember he had to drive on a bridge overlooking a body of water to get there? maybe gemma and the car both fell in and were frozen (since everything in SEVERANCE apparently happens in the wintertime, lol)

i mean, it wouldn't surprise me if we learn that the car accident was "arranged" by lumon??? (either purely to harvest bodies or potentially if gemma turns out to have been involved in anti-eagan stuff on the DL) but idk, i don't love the idea cos i don't like it when shows try to tie LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE THING together into the big overarching mystery, y'know? like, some things are really just down to dumb luck and chance

i also don't think miss casey herself is a clone of gemma, so either her body was WAY less fucked up by the car crash physically than we might otherwise think, or lumon has some top-secret super-healing tech on the testing floor. maybe both!

ANYWAY, remember "allentown"? mark s's first-day fluke, where he completed a file in one day? that was him refining gemma into miss casey the first time around. YADDA YADDA LOVE TRANSCENDS SEVERANCE he literally put the splintered icy fragments of his dead wife back together again because she LIVES IN HIS VEINS guys. and now he's doing it AGAIN with cold harbor. this is why lumon was so desperate to keep him around even while they fired irving and dylan at the drop of a hat: they know he can get the job done, ESPECIALLY when it comes to working on gemma/miss casey. (see also: mark w commenting about how his team from the branch that shut down never made quota)

i've seen the idea tossed around that all the refiners are assigned to someone who was emotionally close to their outie (e.g. irving's deceased father) but i really don't think that's the case -- like, dylan says mark's freshman fluke let lumon devise new techniques for refining to cut down on the time it takes to finish a file, and istg i can see it perfectly in my head: cobel asking mark s how the FUCK he managed to do that and him just being like "i don't know, the numbers looked...scary??????" and her just. rolling with it.

(also i feel like that's why dylan's generally a good refiner -- he can read people! his outie knew what to say and how to act to impress the door factory guy in s2e2!)

so lumon really really needs cold harbor to work. if it's not because they care about gemma SPECIFICALLY for some secret reason, it must be that they care about the technique. lumon (i.e. the board and/or the eagan family), like so many corporate overlords before them, are selling immortality.

i'm on the fence about whether they're trying to resurrect/immortalize kier eagan specifically -- like it would make the most thematic sense, and they have a ton of material FROM his life certainly to work with, but he's supposed to have died in 1939 and cryonics tech just wasn't advanced enough at the time. but also the world of SEVERANCE is pretty distinct from our own so i guess it's plausible

i feel much more confident in saying they're trying to get the technique working specifically for the sake of current ceo jame eagan, who is an old decrepit fart. imo the "revolving" he mentions to helly in the s1 finale is key to this -- like, it kind of sounds like eagan-speak for rotating through/swapping into a new body???

this MIGHT be where the idea of cloning becomes involved, which i can see supported by the emphasis in the s2 opening credits on babies (including baby kier at the end ofc), but i also just had the even more fucked up thought that what if the end goal is to upload the eagans' personalities (and those of their chosen cronies) into the bodies of severed workers. hence the continued necessity for a severed working underclass as well as their ruling higher-ups -- it's a body farm, an endless cycle of severed workers toiling away to let the rich live on and then having their bodies/minds/souls co-opted when they've lost their other utility. oh my god helly was right THEY LITERALLY ARE LIVESTOCK

guys holy shit what if the season ends with jame (or KIER) eagan's personality getting uploaded into miss casey's chip and overwriting miss casey (and also gemma?? idk i feel like mark scout/mark s are both going to have to come to terms with the idea that gemma as she was is capital-g Gone, even if her body and brain are still sort of alive). and then season 3 has dichen lachman chewing the scenery as creepy old man eagan. I THINK IT WOULD BE FUN AND ALSO FUCKED UP

okay so what about cobel, right? like, obviously she's been drinking the eagan kool-aid, she is All In on immortalizing kier (or jame or whoever). but there's more to it than that!!! she's the one harping on about reintegration being real and possible, AND she's desperate seeking for any signs of it during mark s and miss casey's wellness sessions. why? cobel wants to revive her mother charlotte (we see her medical tag on cobel's eagan shrine), but she wants HER MOTHER, not a blank slate -- in other words she's rooting for the chips to not function properly in order to truly resurrect someone who's been dead

in particular i think this is why she flipped her lid on mark at the end of s2e2 when he asked what she knew about gemma -- like, idk maybe it's confirmation bias at play but to me her primal scream felt like it was coming from a place of...jealousy? like, "how DARE you ask me that, how are YOU the one who's allowed to get your loved one back and I'M being promoted up the ladder so lumon can get me out of the way even though MY motivations are pure". that kind of thing

cobel's attitude towards lumon and helena in s2e2 is SUUUUUUPER ambiguous -- i think she's going to turn from outright enemy into kind of a weird "enemy of my enemy is my friend" thing this season?? especially since i got the feeling that she really did kind of care about mark and devon in her own supremely weird, fucked-up way

oh god you guys. what if her "mrs selvig" persona was cobel imitating her own mother, mid-atlantic accent and corny outdated references to clark gable and all. FUCK

also the fact that she's looking for miss casey and mark s to remember each other implies that reintegration is possible even without outside interference with the chip itself (i.e. however reghabi reintegrated petey). and you know what?

i think she's right.

THE BIG BOY THEORY: MARK SCOUT AND MARK S WILL START TO SPONTANEOUSLY REINTEGRATE THIS SEASON

i will live and die on this hill, ben stiller i swear to FUCK

what's the overriding symbolism in the season 1 opening credits?? the line between innie and outie is porous (or "mushy", if you will). black sludge seeping from the trash cans that's made of all your other selves (also reflecting how irving dreams of his outie's black paint). mark's innie and outie selves constantly chasing circles around one another until at the end they both collapse on the bed...and then collapse together as a single person.

what's the overriding symbolism in the season 2 opening credits???? not just "mark scout, i.e. mark in red pajamas, delving into lumon's mysteries", not just "mushy confusion of innie and outie feelings re: helly and miss casey" -- mark's innie and outie selves working together. innie mark pulling outie mark out of the severance chip. innie mark hoisting up the curtain dividing outer and inner worlds to let outie mark through. innie mark CARRYING OUTIE MARK IN HIS ARMS. do you see the fucking vision.

of course that's also coupled with the final image of the credits: mark bursting through and out of his own head. which i think emphasizes that there's going to be conflict as well as cooperation between mark's disparate selves (especially when it comes to everything involving the helly/mark/casey love triangle)

why did mark look like he was having a goddamn seizure when he was coming down the elevator. why did he glimpse a mysterious figure following him in the hallway. WHY THE FUCK WAS HIS VERY FIRST INSTINCT TO BOLT FOR WELLNESS AND LOOK FOR MISS CASEY!!!!! (okay this could also conceivably be due to him yelling to devon that she was alive literally one second ago but still)

i think mark's "spontaneous reintegration" is also more or less an insane fluke, basically a product of the fact that he's now working on gemma/miss casey's refinement data AGAIN and both his innie and outie selves are starting to blur together regarding their shock and turmoil over the realization that gemma is alive (and probably loads of other stuff too while we're at it).

but idk, maybe spontaneous reintegration also occurs naturally over time? irving is also having some bleed-through and iirc he's been at lumon the longest of all of them

shit dude. what if outie burt ALSO has bleed-through and that's why he followed irving and was crying. honestly what the fuck was even the deal with that, i don't know!!!!

anyway i imagine that "spontaneous reintegration" would really put a kibosh in lumon's plans to permanently rewire and wipe the brains of severed folks in order to pave the way for an immortal ruling class. also i thought the way they did petey's hallucinatory flip-flopping between his lives/selves was awesome and i would like more of that, please. (also: i miss petey, y'all)

i think if they do end up going this route it's gonna be spoonfed to us pretty slowly though -- like, s2 will slowly build up the mystery of "what the fuck's going on with mark reintegrating", then s3 is his two selves coming to terms with...All Of That

those are all of my big idea theories but i also have some smaller bullet points to address:

dylan's gonna visit his family in the """visitation suite""" and it 100% is going to be paid lumon actors. and the giveaway is gonna come at the end of the episode when we cut back to outie dylan's life and his wife (or one of his other kids, who knows) is terminally sick (maybe wheelchair- or bed-bound?), hence outie dylan's desperation to find another job post-firing

that is one million percent helena eagan down on the severed floor (although i can see the argument for it being helly r and she's just not comfortable sharing her real experience on the outside). her shady story aside, i think britt lower is CRUSHING IT as "helena pretending to be helly but it's kind of off-putting and fake because it's helena's idea of how helly would behave". like, it's giving me the same vibes as in FRINGE when fauxlivia pretends to be olivia and then seduces/sleeps with peter. real ones know

RICKEN IS NOT A FUCKING SECRET EAGAN!!!!!! DEVON IS NOT SECRETLY IN ON ANYTHING (besides keeping her brother safe)!!!!!! HIS FRIENDS ARE JUST PRETENTIOUS SHITHEELS!!!!!!!!!!!!

as much as i would literally chew glass (positive) for mark s and miss casey to be A Thing, i feel like narratively and thematically it's not gonna work with the show's overarching themes of like, struggling to process grief and selfhood and figuring out what makes you you (or someone else their own independent self). gemma is Gone and you can't bring her back and you can't cut yourself off from the grief and the pain. mark has to reintegrate (literally and metaphorically/emotionally) in order to resolve his issues and move on

this show is so!!!!!! OOOOOUUUUGGGGHHGHGHH

[batboyblog]

The recent Chappell Roan thing is why I absolutely hate the lack of political literacy in this country. Big-name celebrities think they're really cooking when they say "well Kamala still supports blowing up Palestinian babies because she won't cut ties with Israel, so therefore I'm not voting for her and you shouldn't either! Both her and Trump suck so I'm not voting/voting third party!"

Like it or not, Israel is an ALLY of the United States. We CAN'T just cut ties with them unless it's a long drawn-out process, and even then it's probably NEVER going to happen. This is basic shit we learned in social studies, holy shit!

Trump would be so much fucking worse for everyone involved, including Palestine, and not voting or voting third party is pretty much just handing your vote over to Trump due to how voting WORKS in a two-party system dictated by the fucked up electoral college.

This was a long ramble and you've probably gotten similar asks the last few months like this, but fuck, I just have to get this off my chest, and the most recent event with her was like the straw that broke the camel's back. Celebs in general need to shut the fuck up about politics unless they are actually partaking in activism instead of this virtue-signaling bullshit.

Taking things one thing at a time.

I'll admit to having only seen Chappell Roan's final video on the subject, so idk what she said before that (outside of generally)

The two things that really stuck out to me and pissed me off about that live/video was she 1. accused Democrats (she said "the left" but was clearly in context talking about the Democrats) for "transphobic policy" (also genocidal, equally silly) and it was SUCH a groundless lie, such a baseless, stupid, uninformed, silly lie. It'd be like saying "yes the right is bad! but Kamala Harris says she wants to shoot a pony every day of her Presidency and I can't support that!" And to be a Queer artist who's whole thing is centering Queer art, particularly drag who's got a young maybe not very informed queer fan base who's made talking about trans rights your main political thing to just lie about the nature of the threat to trans rights and trans lives at this moment is fucking awful and downright criminal.

Listen right now Republicans are aggressively attacking Democrats on trans rights. Trump went after Harris at their debate for "trans surgeries for illegal aliens in prison!" Republicans are attacking Tim Walz as "tampon Tim" for the idea that he supports trans male students having access to tampons (and other crazy transphobic attacks on him) Republicans are centering transphobia as a main campaign issue, anyone who gives a fuck about trans people in this nation should know Trump and Creepy Vance in charge of the federal government? is the nightmare. You can't claim to care about trans people or be "centering" them and not be doing all you can to stop Republicans at the ballot box this November. And both siding it and saying bullshit that somehow it will be just as bad if Democrats win is not stopping Republicans no matter how you personally vote.

The Second thing in her video that really annoyed me was she said she was voting for Harris but then had a whole word salad about how everyone needed to make up their own minds about who would be best. Basically saying that while she was voting for Harris, a vote for Trump was a reasonable conclusion people could reach. Again if you truly care about the issues she says she cares about, no, you can't vote for Trump. And again to use your platform to push "both sides" is to throw the very people you claim are your brand under the bus in the worst way.

I don't like to throw people under the bus for their family, Tim Walz' brother is a MAGA lunatic for example, but Chappell Roan talked about Republican family that "loved her" and I can't help but wonder if she was thinking of her Republican State Rep uncle, Darin Chappell. Again people can't control family members and I'm not asking anyone to come out and attack their family in public. I'm just wondering if her views on Republicans and finding a middle ground and "they still love me" is colored by Uncle Darin and not understanding he might love her and be proud of her but he still walks into the Missouri state capital and votes for abortion bans and transphobia.

to move onto the meat of your ask which I think is less about Roan in particular and more generalized about a certain type of celebrity and GenZ very on-line types. On the whole Israel-Palestine thing, I think most of the people posting about it know very little or know a lot of misinformation, you every see people boldly posting "I don't need to know everything to know right from wrong!" you run into that a lot. And I'd say yes, you do need to know a lot to comment on a complex multi generational ethnic-political conflict with many state and non-state actors.

Last night JD Vance and Tim Walz had their debate and every time there was an issue, housing costs, medical costs, gun violence, inflation, Vance would move it around to how if we just deported all the immigrants the issue would be fixed, no more drugs no more gun violence, housing would be cheap, just get rid of the people I don't like.

And I see a lot of that with Israel, "Palestine is a climate issue!" "Queer as in Free Palestine!" etc where if we just get rid of Israel it'll all be fixed. Which of course connects to long standing antisemitic ideas about Jews running the world, people happily sub in the word "Israel" or "Zionist" and then repeat the same old racism thats followed the Jews around for 1,000 years.

So long and short I think most people talking about Palestine don't know enough to talk about it, but what's worse don't really care about Palestine at all

I'm reminded here of Trump's "Deal of the Century". Oh? you don't remember it? shocker, in January 2020 Trump released a "peace plan" drawn up with no Palestinians involved, where Israel would be allowed to annex everything in the West Bank it would want, the Jordan Vally cutting Palestine off from Jordan and totally encircling it with Israel. The West Bank would be Swiss cheesed up into little pockets connected by tunnels or overpasses but with Israeli territory running through it everywhere. The Palestinians said "no!" and then Netanyahu claimed that Trump had green lit Israel to annex the land it wanted even without Palestinian agreement to the plan and without giving the Palestinians anything. There was some confusion and thankfully that didn't happen. We may never know the fully story of what stopped it, but I do think Trump agreed to annexing much of the West Bank, but pulled back under pressure from Gulf Arab Oil states who later in 2020 made peace with Israel in the Abraham Accords in an effort to stop Netanyahu's annexation plans.

any ways to point out, 1. Palestine was on the edge of annexation the end of the dream of Palestinian statehood in any meaningful sense, and where were the protests? the encampments? etc? it never comes up, 4 years ago, and all the people who live and breath this stuff never mention it? 2. We have reason to believe Trump signed off on a far-right government of Israel annexing much of the West Bank, his "peace plan" abandoned the outlines that American Presidents since Bill Clinton set forward for getting a Palestinian state on 95+% of the West Bank in favor of "what does the Israeli right want?" and again no one is talking about it in the context of this election, we know what he'll do, because he's done it before.

but again its not really about the Palestinians, its not about building a Palestinian state, its "get rid of Israel" and then what? what happens to the 9 million people who live in Israel? and people don't have a realistic answer, because its a political fantasy that if they just do X everything will magically get better, even on totally unrelated issues.

[robocatfan]

An angry summary of Speak the Ocean by Rebecca Enzor -Part 1

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

(well more of a combination of a summary, a rant, a critique/review and nitpicking, but you get the idea)

Because in my eternal search for more books about dangerous mermaids, I found this little book with such an interesting premise (it’s essentially mermaids in Seaworld) that i just had to read it. And since those sorts of stories don’t tend to be pretty good, I had high hopes for this story.

However, not only did it waste such a cool concept, but it disappointed and pissed me off so much that I decided “you know what? If I had to contend with this thing, I will bring everyone else down with me!”

… and also to spare anyone who doesn’t want to read it, but it’s curious about it , from suffering the same (not good!) brain rot I have thanks to this.

I’ll be doing this two or three chapters at a time because I noticed that my summaries… ended up a bit long.

Anyway. Lets begin.

Preface 1

The book starts by showing us an in-universe training manual for employees about interacting with the mer, as well as what to do if someone falls into the tank with them.

It tells us that unless they are doing a certain task (like using an electroshocker- yes, that’s its name), personnel must remain at least 3 feet from the water - which contradicts what we see a few chapters later, but we’ll get to that eventually - and if they need to work near the water, 4 personnel must be present and the water must be cooled and spiked with sedatives if necessary.

It follows up by saying that if someone falls into the tank with a mer inside, the person closest to the electroshocker ™ should place it in the water, and if the mer doesn’t react to it, they should shock them… while the person is still in the water. Yeah sure, that will help a lot with keeping them alive!

Meanwhile two people should use a net to separate the mer from the person while a third (the one with the shocker or the one in the water? Idk) keeps an eye on them. If they can’t trap the mer however, they are allowed to use the electroshocker ™ liberally- while again, the person they are trying to save is still in the water!

I get it’s a quick life or death situation, but come on! Tranquilizer guns and darts exist for a reason!

Chapter 1- Finn

This chapter introduces us to Finnegan Jarvis aka Finn, our human protagonist and a worker in Oceanica, the only mermaid marine park in the world. Also as you will see from this point forward… I hate his absolute, bigass di-

The story starts with Finn’s narration telling us that contrary to what Corporate - aka Delmara/ Aunt D, the owner of the place - tells the public, the mer they work with are very dangerous. which is proven by the fact that one of them killed Craig, one of the trainers, just the night prior. Which is why they are now preparing to euthanize it.

His friend Serge notices he’s nervous about it and tries to reassure him by telling him that Bismuth the mer (they name them after the elements of the periodic table) and his companions, the twins Fluorine and Chlorine, were already chilled. It doesn’t help much.

In his narration he says that six years have passed since humans have discovered merfolk, and in four of those years he’s been forced to kill six mers after they killed an equal number of his companions. Though in spite of his nervousness and current sadness for Craig, the fact that he can bring up the death of people he knew about so casually means that he’s pretty desensitized to it.

They both go to the room where their practice tank is stored and meet with two of their coworkers Madison and Natalie (Maddy is the only important one here, trust me). And since the mers have already been placed there, they get to work.

Btw all that i have summarized so far takes place within 8 paragraphs (one of which is just for one of the character´s dialogue), none of which give us a clear idea of how the characters or most of their surroundings look like.

And as expected, this chapter also shows us the mer for the first time, with barely, if any build up to their first appearance. And much like the humans, there are no noteworthy descriptions that could help us visualize how they look like save for specific details that apply to just one individual, with those being Bismuth’s dark green scales and the twins’ icy blue eyes and hair.

Speaking of the twins, apparently they are part of Oceanica’s second most famous show, and are only here to watch their companion die so they’ll be discouraged from misbehaving like he did. According to Finn that strategy worked on previous mers… although sometimes it just backfires completely.

As they prepare the net and electroshocker ™ (the process being described in just one paragraph btw), Finn says that euthanizing a mer isn’t easy since they are huge, they are many regulations with dealing with them and, according to him, they are the perfect predator… although there are no scenes in the story to support that idea, nor at the very least shows us why he has come to such conclusion.

Anyway, in the span of just four paragraphs that look more like a draft listing actions rather than a proper final scene, Serge electrocutes the trio, allowing the other three to trap Bismuth in a net and lift him from the water while his tank companions swim around and do nothing to help him.

And after snapping at Maddy for not moving with him by reminding her to pay attention or she’ll end up like her recently deceased companion — Finn injects Bismuth with a liquid that kills him instantly, which also causes him to dissolve into foam.

However, as he’s dissolving faster than my initial hopes for this book, one of the lines holding the nets unravels, and in the chaos Finn slips in a puddle of the mer’s remains , hits his knee, and falls into the tank with the twins. Like he deserves.

He tries to flee, but the mers hold him down with their claws. But instead of immediately going for that soft, vulnerable throat, Chlorine, this supposed “perfect predator”, just pierces his shoulders, giving Finn the opportunity to reach for her gills and fucking rip them off. And before her sister can retaliate, Serge electrocutes them both.

Unsurprisingly, this has consequences.

Finn ends up comatose for two days, and even though his mother is worried sick - since she has lost her husband who disappeared while in a trip to find the merfolk, and is justifyingly worried that her son also works with them - and the doctors told him to not swim while he still had the stitches from his shoulder wound, this guy insists on going out for a swim in a reef in spite of Serge’s protests.

Oh and he also says that “he can’t let his sister make fun of him for getting his ass kicked by girls.”

… oh and those living family members he has have almost no importance in the story. They are just. There.

As they are traveling in the fishing boat that used to belong to his dad, Finn asks Serge what became of the twins. And he casually, very casually, reveals that the stars of their second most popular show are now fucking dead.

There’s no talk about how the public is gonna react to this, nor how this very huge loss will affect their finances, not even if they held a funeral for their recently deceased coworker. Just that they gotta pull more mers out of the ocean to replace the twins and they’ll need a new trainer for them. Which Finn, in spite of his current medical orders, plans to become.

Though he does bristle at the memory of killing Chlorine… And also says that this isn’t the worst way in which he has killed a mer.

…WHAT-

Oh and also it’s revealed to us that Delmara used to be his father’s teaching assistant, and Finn has been working for her since he was fifteen years old after helping her document the existence of the first mer they’d found.

On their way, the pair come across a beach that has been vacated due to a recent mer attack the night prior, which Finn mentions is the time that the mer tend come out to attack (probably to evade people).The reasons as to why it happened, nor the attack itself are ever explained or brought up again. Not even in the chapters with the mer pov, where we see where their kind - which should include the attacker - lives.

Finally they arrive on the reef, and as he swims through it, Finn muses that if the stories about people becoming mer were true, he’d stay in the water forever. But as it stands, working with them is the closest he’ll ever be to being a part of the ocean … even though he recently killed and constantly tortures the same creatures he says he wants to become.