#greg (undressed) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fayesia · 4 months ago

Note

Hi uh weird rq! Can u make a sub Rodrick Heffley and dom girlfriend reader fic? Like smut where we ride him and take his virginity and he’s very whiny and moaning and there’s a lot of slap kink like slapping his face when he’s bad or slapping his cock? And can there be nicknames for him like “sweet boy” “handsome boy” “good boy” and if you can make him call u mommy ? Weird rq Ik sorry and thank you! 😭

Sub!Rodrick x dom!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, mommy kink, making out, slapping, cowgirl, degradation + praise, pussy eating, face riding, abrupt ending :(

It was sheer dumb luck and a difinitve message from the universe that Rodricks parents took Manny with them on holiday the same week of your 6 month anniversary. With little to no persuasion, Greg rang up Rowley and planned a sleepover. Ultimately leaving you and Rodrick to an empty house, something that had never happened before. Which lead you to your current situation, the dinner plates were left on the table with the candles blown out, wafting the smell of wax through the air, the same air that felt hot and heavy when Rodricks lips were on yours.

His hands grazed against your hips, hesitant on how to touch you, but you held most of the control. Biting onto his lower lip and soothing the sting with your tongue, while your hands gripped his hair pulling his head down closer to you. You knew how he reacted to pain and you loved to toy with his reactions. Stumbling towards his room you shoved him onto the bed, straddling across his thighs quickly asking where the condoms he secretly bought were. Digging under his mattress, Rodrick pulled out a squished box of condoms which you opened, retrieving one.

"No touching. I didn't say you could do that"

He undressed quickly, your actions leaving him feeling claustrophobic in his own clothing, especially his tight black jeans with a bulge straining against them. Bouncing back onto the mattress he was clad in nothing, his erection pointed to the ceiling, the tip was red and leaking droplets of pre cum.

Rodricks hand wrapped around his cock as he stroked himself but you were quick to send a sharp slap to it.

He whimpered at your voice. You barely heard it, but he definitely did.

Rodricks eyes stared up at you, full of awe and devotion, they seemed to become glazed over the more clothing you took off. First his band tshirt you "burrowed" then your black pants, until you were left in a black lace set. A white ribbon on the front lace of your panties and between your bra cups.

He loved it. He thought you were beautiful.

You climbed back into his lap and felt his dick through the lace, he moaned at the sensation it had against his already sensitive tip. Removing your bra, his hands greedily reached for your tits. In quick successions you slapped them away and roughly reached forward to grap his face, uncomfortably squishing his cheeks.

"I didn't fucking say you could touch did I. Don't you want to be a good boy for mommy?"

He nodded his head as best as he could in your tight hold.

"Nuh uh mommy need words, can't just be nodding with that pretty face"

"Yesh"

His reply came out muffled with the annunciation of his letters proving to be a struggle. You smiled releasing his face and lightly slapping the side of it. "Good boy~"

He keened at your praise and you felt more of his precum drip from his tip to your panties.

Roughly kissing him you pushed Rodrick back against the mattress on his back, slipping off your panties and ripping open the condom.

"Ready?"

"Please..please oh my- fuck"

His words were cut off by the feeling of the condom covering his dick. It was the first contact he had of your hands along him and he could've came right then and there if not for his need to be your perfect boy.

Instead he rested his palms on your thighs following you as you lowered yourself onto him.

It was amazing. Something Rodrick had never felt before and wanted to feel for the rest of his life.

Your tight pussy wrapped around him like a vice, he was on cloud nine. You took him completely, stopping for a while to accommodate to the fit. Panting while your hands lay flat against his hard chest, his eyes barely open and his face of pure bliss.

"So good feel so-fuck so pretty mommy."

You ride him, using your legs to lift you up and down. His messy upward thrusting messing up the rhythm you have going on.

You know he's not going to last much longer, his breathings quickened and his body's more restless, taking what you give but still begging for more.

*slap* your hand whips across his face, "take it like a good boy. Mommy didn't ask you to move slut."

He moans out the pain giving him more pleasure if anything, there's drool sliding across his puffy red lips still raw from your bites before. And the left side of his face has a pink fading handprint.

You were right.

With a loud serirs of moans his hips thrust further upwards into you, his tip just brushing against that one little perfect spot in you. You keep bouncing, up and down, until tears are streaking down his face.

"Please it's too much. No more...please"

Lifting off of him you sit up near his chest.

"Fucking slut. Didn't say you could cum did I?

*slap*

"Did mommy say you could?"

"Mm no no. Mommy. You didn't."

"Exactly. So you're gonna make me come or I'll keep riding you."

He whimpers as you say this, you hand yanking off the used condom and stroking his overstimulated dick. You squeeze him at the end of your sentence to annunciate your threat. But you know it doesn't hurt him, he's a fucking pain slut.

His tongue spans across the whole of your pussy, sliding between the folds and lapping at your leaking hole, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking until you're gripping the beds headboard for support. He'll never get sick of the taste of you. Now that he's had it for the first time he knows its a desire he'll crave for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Lifting yourself up a bit you slide forward until your thighs rest on the pillow where Rodricks head is. His mouth opens already aware from what you want after the amount of pornos he's watched since you begin dating hes excited to actually do it. His tongue reaches out, begging for just a taste of you.

Slowly teasing him you let him lick your folds by just the tip of his tongue, before slamming your pussy down onto his face. He follows up with a loud and whiny moan that vibrates against your most sensitive parts. Lifting your hands up to play with your nipples as you moan, the noises of his mouth slurping against your pussy mixing them, echoing around his room.

You feel yourself getting closer. Urged to grip onto his spiked messy hair already a mess, yanking it painfully draws another moan from him that spreads through your core. By now his tongue has wriggled its way into your hole and your practically riding his face. Moving atop him while controlling his head movements, the tip of his nose sliding against your clit to provide the most pleasurable sensation.

"Fuck~so close baby. Doing so good for me-ahh." Your praise only makes Rodrick double his efforts, pushing you completely over the edge. Whining out at the ceiling as you keep his head in place sliding forwards and backwards, your juices soak him and he drinks it all up. At the same time his dick twitches and shots of cum are released, staining both the sheets and your back with the white sticky fluids.

Rolling onto your back you crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on him, whispering praises as he catches his breath.

~unedited~

#smut #oneshot #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley smut

279 notes · View notes

missladym1981 · 4 months ago

Text

Ok let’s try this again shall we? Marcus Pike kept getting cut out of my damn photo but I finally got him to stay . Again, sorry. Here once again is the damn ledger.

Top row from left to right

1. King Lear- Edmund

2. Lobby Hero- Jeff

3. Much Ado About Nothing- Don John

4. Maple and Vine - Roger

5. Sand- Ahmed

6. Hamlet- Horatio

7. Trolius and Cressida- Thersites

8. Lorenzaccio-Piero Strozzi

9. Orphans - Phillip

10. Graceland - Juan Badillo

11. Nikita- Liam

12. Red Window- Jay Castillo

13. The Sixth Gun- Special Agent Ortega

14. CSI - Kyle Hartley

15. Old Comedy from Aristophanes Frogs- Diony

16. Body of Proof - Zach Goffman

Second row Left to Right

17. The Mentalist - Marcus Pike

18. Burn Notice : the fall of Sam Ace- Comendante Veracruz

19. Wonder Woman - Ed Indelicato

20. Law and Order SVU- Special Agent Greer

21. Charlie’s Angels- Fredrick Mercer

22. Brothers and Sisters - Zach Wellison

23. Lights Out- Assyrian

24. The Good Wife - Nathan Landry

25. Law and Order- Tito Cabassa

26. Without a Trace- Kyle Wilson

27. Law and Order CI- Reggie Luckman

28. NYPD Blue- Shane “ Dio “ Morrisey

29. Touched by an Angel - Ricky Hauck

30. undressed- Greg

31. Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Eddie

‘Third row Left to Right

32. TWMT- Javi Gutierrez

33. If Beal Street Could Talk- Pietro Alvarez

34. The Great Wall - Pedro Tovar

35. We Can Be Heros - Marcus Moreno

36. WW84- Maxwell Lord

37. Bloodsucking Bastards- Max Phillips

38. Kingsman : The Golden Circle- Agent Whiskey

39. The Equalizer- Dave York

40. Prospect- Ezra

41. Triple Frontier- Frankie Morales

‘Row 4 left to right

42. The Bubble- Dieter Bravo

43. House Comes With A Bird - Nico

44. Strange Way of Life- Silva

45. Freaky Tales- Clint

46. Drive-Away Dolls- Santos

47. The Uninvited- Lucien Flores

48. The Mandalorian - Din Djarin

49.Game of Thrones- Oberyn Mother Fuckin Martell

Final row of epicnessssssss left to right

50. The Materialist- TBA

51. Narcos- Javier Peña

52. The Last of Us- Joel Miller

53. Gladiator lol- General Marcus Acacius

54. Merge Mansion- Tim Rockford

55. SNL- Mr. Ben

56. Fantastic Four- Reed Richards

57. The Wild Robot- Fink

58. Housebroken- Claude

Sorry again for the fuck up. Sometimes shit happens but they are fixed now. Thank you have a good night

104 notes · View notes

rakurairagnarok · 1 year ago

Text

Heres the poll result!!! Please enjoy!! My commissions are still open!

Summer Bod

Derek sighed. It was a hot summer day, and he was sweating bullets. His classmates had invited him to the beach. Not that he was particularly close to any of them, but he couldn't pass up on a trip to the beach. He didn't feel like being left out like the rest of the year. They had told him to leave his swimsuit at home; Greg's father allegedly had extra pairs from his store, and he had to lose them so Greg had told him he would give them to his classmates. Once Derek arrived though he figured it was set up. The only pair they had extra was a large pink pair, which was way to big. Derek turned red.

"These were the only ones left Derek, we're soooo sorry." One of the guys snickered.

"They do suit you though, such a girly color...oh right you're a guy." One of the girls grinned at her own remark.

Derek took a deep breath and grabbed the shorts. He was not gonna let them bully him out of this day. He was gonna man up and show them. He walked to the changing rooms, tossing the shorts on the side, and started to undress.

He pulled the shorts over his skinny legs and looked at himself in the mirror. His scrawny body had caused him to be bullied and picked on for most of his highschool life. Derek pushed his big glasses up his nose and sighed. "I wish I wasn't so powerless."

As soon as those words left his mouth, the shorts started to heat up, and Derek froze. Not voluntarily, his body litterally wouldn't move an inch.

"What the hell?" Derek frowned as he tried his hardest to get his body to listen to his commands, to no avail. A sudden cramping in his legs caused him to stop trying, as he cried out in pain. He looked down and saw his calves contracting, as if he had been working his legs constantly. Curiously, as they relaxed, his calves seemed to have grown slightly. Before Derek could look more closely however, they cramped up again. This time, his quads flared up as well. This continued, untill his whole body seemed to be on fire. Derek looked, through the tears in his eyes, at the mirror and saw his whole body pulsate. After about a minute he actually saw proof of his muscles growing.

His abdominal muscles, which he had never trained, started to push out, leaving a decent sixpack behind. The cramps started to focus more on his legs again, as his quads started to thicken tremendously. The shorts that were almost hanging from his fragile frame were quickly straining to contain his thickening legs. His calves and feet also grew, and an extra harsh cramp on his right leg caused an intricate tattoo to form all over his calve.

Panting from the pain, Derek didn't notice his legs were finally unfrozen. They still had a mind of their own, flexing the large muscles, and even jiggling the bubble butt he had gained.

The cramps moved up to his torso, his flat chest quickly pushing out into thick strong pectorals. His back widened, while his waist shrunk slightly, giving him an improved widened posture. Another rough cramp just above his groin introduced his body to another new tattoo, spelling 'Willpower' in an elegant font. His side screamed in pain as another intricate tattoo was scratched into his skin.

Just like his legs, his whole torso began to flex; his pecs were bouncing and his tight abs were striking every pose imaginable. His obliques were spreading, almost like wings.

His arms were next in line. It began in his shoulders, which were quickly rounding into large muscular orbs. His posture widened even more, making Derek almost twice as wide as he once was. His bisceps and triceps were blowing up. His former twigs were now almost the size of his head, and his fore arms were not far behind. His hands tightened, years of rough work scraping off layers of soft smooth skin, leaving behind tough and calloused hands.

More seething pain called in more new tattoos, one on his right and a more colourfull on his left.

His arms began to frantically pose in every stereotypical arm pose, flexing his huge bisceps.

The cramps finally moved to his face, completely rearranging his facial structure. His previously boyish face hardened out, giving Derek a hard and strong jaw. His acne dissappeared and in its place grew a thick manly beard.

His nerdy glasses started to morph into an expensive pair of sunglasses, while his equally nerdy haircut got millimetered to a fresh buzzcut. His vision got darker as a baseball cap firmly planted itself on his head.

As the cap tightened, his head began to feel blissfully empty. All his fear, pain and embarrassment drained, leaving behind only arousal, joy and some gym routines. The unnecessary thoughts all dropped down into his steadily growing balls. His underdeveloped rod joined its sweaty globes, and began growing. Inch after inch began sliding down the pink shorts leg.

Derek grinned as he saw his python alive and well. He was happy he was a grower, otherwise not a single pair of pants would be able to contain his massive 12 incher.

He pulled down his shorts to admire his python, not only big in length but also a respectable girth. A clod of pre ran down its length. Derek slowly began to stroke, his balls quickly responding. Before long, thick ropes of cum shot against the mirror, his former life leaving Derek in the most pleasant way possible. Not a trace of the old Derek remained, apart from the bright pink shorts he was wearing, which he couldn't wait to pull off and plant his dick between a cute twinks plump cheeks.

Wanna get a new life? Call Rakurai Inc. Or place an order in my Dms!!

#transformation #male muscle growth #rakurai #male transformation #age progression #gay tf #nerd to jock #clothing tf

609 notes · View notes

pvlvsdog · 3 months ago

Text

X-ray: what I think is down there

Take this as my own personal musings, definitely influenced by people who introduced me to the game. Stuff like that just sticks with me and sometimes it just seems more fitting than whatever alternative I could come up with

Nsfw! Unedited!

Don - giant cock. No other way to put it, I think she has the best of both worlds and while I definitely give her decently sized tits when I draw here, there is a penis down there and it is both huge and thick. Is it clean or taken care of? About as much as her shoe-covered feet are

Heathcliff - a pretty big penis, has some girth and a little of a curve to it with noticeable veins. Not the biggest on the bus but it’s surely up there

Meursault - a penis with well trimmed hair. It’s a bit above the average in length but very thick. Clean, good dick, probably a good time to have it in you

Ishmael - hairy pussy. She doesn’t waste time to trim so there is a decent amount of hair along with a happy trail. It’s well, sort of clean. She doesn’t do anything fancy, probably knows better than to use hand soap but she doesn’t care enough to do anything beyond the bare minimum

Hong lu - I think it would be a penis but I’m willing to hear you out if you think otherwise. I think it’s well taken care of, very long with not a lot of girth to it. Not much in terms of visible veins I imagine

Faust - a vagina covered in white, fluffy hair. She keeps it very clean but doesn’t shave or trim, she sees that as a hassle and the hair doesn’t bother her or anything, if you have a problem with it she figures it’s none of her business

Rodya - immaculately smooth and well maintained pussy. On one hand she doesn’t like to follow fads that are set up by society to make you spend more money, but she also likes to feel like that’s a bonus to what she already has to offer. A bit hypocritical, but that’s a bit of her thing. Like, she likes that she is the most conventionally well taken care of in that area even if she is aware that the mainstream preference doesn’t hold much relevance in the grand scheme of things

Ryoshu - also a vagina. She keeps the hair short for comfort only, but doesn’t like to shave it completely, I think

Outis - again, vagina and yet again hair that is only a little trimmed, not as neatly as Ryoshu’s though. She just does it when she feels like it, it takes up a bit of time and she cares more about resting before another work day. It’s not that well washed either, she just can’t be bothered

Dante - I think they have a vagina. It’s hairless but more so because I generally think their body is pretty hairless to begin with. They try to keep it clean but also I’m not sure if they remember all the proper ways to do so. Probably used hand soap and calls it a day

Yi Sang - honestly this one could go either way. If it’s a penis then it’s average in length, no bigger veins, with not much girth or hair. It it’s a pussy then it’s a nicely washed one, shaved (‘just in case’)

Gregor - PUSSY. VAGINA. I firmly believe in trans Greg and that’s a hill I will die on. I don’t think it’s very clean on trimmed at all. It’s probably pretty hairy too. Most days he doesn’t feel like going out of his way to wash it and just ‘lets the water do its thing’. Would

Sinclair - hhhh I’m sorry but. Personally I imagine a penis and I don’t think it’s very big (both in terms of girth and length). It’s noticeably short and has some light hair around it. He’s the type of person to apologise when undressing in front of you, give that man some confidence please. I also fw some trans Emil art so I’m not saying you guys are ‘wrong’ or anything, I can definitely see that. I just personally think it’s a penis

#limbus company headcanons #limbus x reader #limbus company x reader #limbus headcanons #limbus gregor #limbus ryoshu #limbus sinclair #limbus hong lu #limbus don quixote #limbus heathcliff #limbus meursault #limbus ishmael #limbus dante #limbus outis #limbus yi sang #limbus rodya #limbus faust

33 notes · View notes

lucaswarmhotchocolate · 2 months ago

Text

Imagine this.

You’re having sex with a really hot, 40-ish year old doctor. He’s a jerk, and apathetic at best, but he’s hilarious and sexy and undressing you right now. He kisses you, touches your thighs teasingly, unhooks your bra. He sucks a hickey into your neck, and you moan out his name,

“Greg!”

#house md #gregory house #this is an old one from my drafts btw like omg I typed this bad boy up during season 1…#crazy !!

10 notes · View notes

smehur · 3 months ago

Text

Cinnamon

Drarry drabble for Day 6 of Spicetober, an event organized by @thewritingheirsofslytherin discord. In this one, Harry Potter is obsessed with Draco Malfoy (shocking, I know), and Slytherins are Up To Something.

The room goes stock-still and silent as the door bursts open and none other but Harry bloody Potter stumbles in, barely keeping his feet. Apparently, he was pushed by Greg, who enters after him, Vince close behind.

“Look who we found, snooping around,” Greg announces. He gives Potter’s back another shove, casual-like, just as he regained his balance. Potter staggers forward. His glasses slip off and fall onto the flagstones with a clatter.

Draco’s attention is diverted from the show by something Vince throws at him. His hand tingles with hostile magic as he catches it on reflex. Potter’s wand.

“Don’t,” Draco says, just in time to stop Greg from stepping on Potter’s glasses. Perhaps Potter’s fingers too, busy as they are feeling around the floor. “Let him see.”

Greg kicks the glasses in Potter’s direction. Armed with his eyesight once more, Potter finally straightens up and takes in the room. The carpets and cushions. The bottles, glasses and cans. The hookahs. All the people in all the stages of undress, only a few still staring at him. And at last, the 1/4 scale pensieve projection playing in the center of the circle.

Gone is his harassed look. His eyes are round with wonder, his jaw loose and his mouth agape. A blush is spreading over his handsome cheeks like wildfire.

“Aww, would you look at him,” Pansy purrs, leaning her head on Draco’s shoulder. “Such a cute little cinnamon bun. Too good for this world. Too pure.”

Blaise, sitting to her left, snorts into his wine.

The murmured conversations, sighs and quiet moans have long resumed. No one but Draco is paying Potter any heed. Their eyes meet, and Potter swallows what looks like a voluminous lump.

“So now you know,” Draco mouths at him.

Also on AO3

#harry/draco #drarry #microfiction #Spicetober2024 #harry potter #amwriting #my post

11 notes · View notes

secularbakedgoods · 1 year ago

Text

Lockout

(science fiction, 3900 words)

When Jackie first met her next-door neighbor, she had no inkling whatsoever that there was six figures’ worth of military hardware grafted onto his body.

The man who answered her knock at the door of the neighboring apartment was somewhere in his early 20s, with the permanent five ‘o’ clock shadow of someone who only shaved with an electric razor. It was early autumn, not even cold, but he wore a hoodie and kept both hands tucked into its front pocket.

Jackie did her best to look friendly (a redundant effort, as she usually came across as the least threatening person alive). “Hi, I’m Jackie. I live next door.”

“Hi.” The neighbor looked pleasantly surprised, as if he’d opened the door expecting much worse. “Connor.”

“So, this is weird and I’m sorry to bother you about it, but my cat is on your balcony right now.”

The balcony was the major selling point of an otherwise standard crappy apartment. Everything was the same shade of Landlord White, and the kitchen backsplash had been ripped out and never replaced, but the building was in decent shape—although construction further up the block had rattled it beyond its usual tolerances, leaving cracks in the walls and ceiling. A balcony meant that Jackie’s cat, Greg, could get some unsupervised fresh air while she worked.

An acquaintance in the local esports league had hired Jackie to replace the control sticks in his lucky gamepad, which were starting to drift. The money wasn’t great, but she was between freelance gigs. The job demanded enough of her attention that it was only once she’d finished and put down the soldering iron that she realized Greg had gone wandering.

Connor left the door open and moved to his window, pulling the heavy blackout curtains aside. His apartment and Jackie’s shared the balcony, with a divider between. Somehow, Greg had made his way across the divider and now lay indolently in front of the sliding door on Connor’s side.

Jackie hovered at the apartment’s threshold. “Can I just—?”

Connor shrugged. Jackie bolted gingerly across the apartment and slid the door open to retrieve her cat.

Greg offered no resistance to being hoisted, even when Jackie held him up in front of her face and said, “You are a very bad cat.” She turned and waggled him at Connor. “Say ‘thank you’ to the nice man for the use of his balcony.”

In response, the cat only yawned. Connor, however, cracked a smile. With his left hand, he gave Greg a scratch behind the ears.

His right hand remained hidden, tucked into the hoodie.

Jackie next saw Connor on laundry day.

He came up behind her in the hallway outside the laundry room, where she stood with half a key in her hand and the other half wedged in the lock of the laundry room door.

“Did your key break?” Connor asked.

Jackie glared at the door. “Yes.”

Connor tried to pry the broken key out of the lock, but couldn’t get a grip through his gloves.

“I think you need fingernails for that,” Jackie said, and Connor stepped aside.

It took a few seconds, with Jackie chipping her thumbnail in the process, but eventually the broken key came loose and Connor unlocked the door.

As they commenced the intricate dance that only took place between near-strangers doing their laundry together, Jackie asked, “Why is this room even locked?”

“They found someone sleeping in here once,” Connor said. “Landlord got mad. Do you want one of my keys?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a spare. I’ll just tell the landlord one of mine broke.”

Connor worked the key off the ring with his right hand, but handed it to Jackie with his left.

The fire alarm went off at three in the morning. Greg, the asshole, immediately hid under Jackie’s bed and had to be dragged out.

Jackie ended up outside in her slippers with the cat under one arm and her bed’s comforter over her shoulders. There was some consolation to be had that the building’s other occupants, scattered all over the parking lot, were in similar states of undress.

Connor was off in the corner, arms wrapped around himself; he’d neglected to grab a coat on the way out, and the night was chilly. His oversized t-shirt did nothing to hide the advanced mechanical arm grafted to his right shoulder where a flesh-and-blood limb had once been. Jackie faintly recognized the model from videos that crossed her feed every once in a while. It was a military-grade prosthetic, supposedly as dexterous as the human limb it was intended to replace.

People were staring. Connor did his best to ignore them.

Jackie sidled over, holstered Greg against her hip, and extended one side of the comforter. “Hey. You cold?”

It was a polite fiction on both sides: Jackie pretended not to notice the arm, or the fact that she’d offered Connor the side of the comforter that would cover it, and Connor pretended not to see right through the gesture. He ducked under the comforter with a quiet, “thanks.”

They huddled together in the parking lot until the fire department showed up. After all that, it turned out to be a false alarm.

The building was only three stories tall, with no trash chute. Instead, Jackie had to haul her garbage bags down to the dumpster in the alley.

Someone had left a bedside dresser—slightly beat up, but still solid—on the ground next to the dumpster. Connor hovered over it with an air of uncertainty.

“You taking that?” Jackie asked.

“I don’t know.” Connor had his hoodie on, with his right hand tucked into the front pocket; the arm hung limp from his shoulder.

“I could help bring it up,” Jackie suggested.

Connor ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. “I can’t lift anything. My arm’s not, uh. Working.”

“I can carry it. Just get the doors for me, okay?”

It was a little awkward to lift, and the stairs were a bitch, but a few minutes later Jackie set the dresser down next to Connor’s bed. It was just a mattress on the floor, no frame.

Jackie stretched, hands at the small of her back. “Can I ask you an awkward question?”

Connor cleared his throat. He still wouldn’t look at her. “The VA hasn’t paid the bill yet.”

“For your arm?”

Connor nodded. “There’s a fee every month, from the company that made it. The VA covers it, but sometimes they’re a few days late.”

“So the company switches the arm off remotely.”

“Yeah.”

“You tried modding it?”

Connor rubbed his shoulder; it had to be a strain, hauling that much dead weight around. “Like how?”

“You could try disabling whatever antenna receives the lockout signal,” Jackie said. “Or cracking the firmware. I could help, if you wanted.”

“Is that legal?”

“More or less?” Jackie shrugged. “It’s the kind of thing the law has trouble keeping up with.”

Connor looked uneasy. “I’ll think about it.”

Amelia’s scoff came through Jackie’s headset like a burst of static. “Again, Jackie?”

“What? What’s ‘again?’”

The rest of Jackie’s regular gaming group had gone to bed hours ago, leaving Jackie and Amelia to claw their way up the leaderboards late into the night.

Jackie didn’t particularly like Amelia.

“This thing where you’re nice to some guy,” Amelia said, “because you’re nice to everybody, and then he decides he’s in love with you. And then you have to move halfway across the country because he won’t leave you alone.”

“So I should just be a bitch to everybody?”

“It’d make your life easier.”

“I don’t believe that.”

There was a knock on Jackie’s door.

“I’ve gotta go,” she said.

“Yeah, sure.”

Jackie closed the game and dropped out of the chat server. When she opened the door, Connor was there, looking sheepish.

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry, I know it’s late.”

“It’s fine, I was up.”

Connor rubbed his shoulder again, although his arm seemed once again able to support its own weight. “So, that thing you suggested. About the arm. Could we try?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Jackie moved to let him in, then hesitated. “Actually, let me grab my tools and we’ll use your place. Less cat hair.”

They set up at Connor’s dining room table, which—like the dresser—looked like it was salvaged out of the trash. Connor changed into a sleeveless shirt, and Jackie got her first full look at the arm.

The prosthesis didn’t stop at the shoulder; the shoulder blade and part of his spine had also been reinforced, the whole apparatus clearly not designed for easy removal. The casing wasn’t metal, like Jackie expected, but some kind of polymer. Where it met flesh, there were scars: long furrows, clumsy and chaotic and not at all surgical.

There was an access panel on the arm’s shoulder, and the screws holding it in place all had a distinctive head. “Security screws,” Jackie said. “You need a proprietary screwdriver for these.”

“So we can’t open it?”

“What? No, I have the screwdriver here.” The toolbox rattled as Jackie fumbled through it. “You can buy them online. They’re like five bucks.”

The screws were all slightly different sizes, just to make Jackie’s life hell. She placed each on the table in a pattern roughly corresponding to where they’d been on the panel.

When she tried to pry the panel up, it didn’t move. Closer inspection revealed it was also glued in place.

It was probably unwise, not to mention impractical, to stick Connor’s arm in the oven. Luckily, Jackie had a heat gun. She tried to keep it away from Connor’s skin, but he still flinched every time the nozzle got a little too close.

Once the panel was off, Jackie grabbed a pen light and examined the board beneath. The network chip that received the lockout signal was easy enough to spot; it was, of course, glued to the board. Everything was.

“Chips are glued down,” Jackie reported.

“Can you melt the glue?”

“Probably shouldn’t,” Jackie explained. “Sometimes they like to layer acid between coats of glue. If I try to dissolve it or pry the chips off, I might damage the board.”

Another sweep of the pen light revealed a port without a connector.

“When they were setting this thing up,” Jackie asked, “did they have any cables plugged into it?”

Connor shifted in his seat. “I don’t remember. Does it matter?”

“Maybe. I think I see a debug port. They would’ve used it to calibrate the arm while it was being installed. If I can solder on a new connector, that might get us the access we need.” Jackie grabbed her laptop. “I’ll have to order the connector online, though. None of the suppliers in this city are anywhere near a bus stop.”

Connor said, “I have a car.”

“Is it the one with the tree growing out of it?”

There was, in the parking lot, a car with four flat tires and a tree growing out of it. It wasn’t a big tree—barely a sapling—but the fact that it was there at all was not a good sign.

The look on Connor’s face was all the answer Jackie needed.

A few days later, the courier delivering the new connector called Jackie and said, “I can’t find your address.”

“Oh. Your GPS is pointing you down the wrong street.” Jackie sighed; this was nowhere near the first time. “That’s the pedestrian entrance. Car access is through the parking lot, one street over.”

“Could you come down?”

Jackie groaned. “Yeah, sure.”

The courier hung up.

Jackie was only halfway down the stairs by the time her phone rang again. She answered without looking and said, “Hey, I’m on my way down.”

A voice that was not the courier said, “Jackie?”

Jackie stopped dead, her heart pounding up into her throat. “Wyatt. Hi. How’d you get this number?”

“I got it from Ethan.” Fucking Ethan. “I heard you moved.”

“Sure did,” Jackie said. With any luck Wyatt hadn’t heard where to.

“I’m gonna be out your way pretty soon. We should have coffee or something.”

Jackie’s mouth went dry. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I asked you to leave me alone, Wyatt.” Jackie took a deep breath that rattled in her chest. “Please don’t call me again.”

She hung up, blocked the number, and managed to stop crying by the time the courier finally showed up.

In retrospect, it should’ve been obvious that soldering parts onto a board was much harder when the board was attached to a human being. One who, on occasion, had to breathe.

“How the hell did they even install this thing?” she grumbled, holding the soldering iron away from anything sensitive as she waited for Connor to settle.

“I was out for most of it,” Connor replied.

Distracted, Jackie asked, “‘Out?’”

“I was in the hospital. IED.”

Jackie had to put the soldering iron down. “You got blown up and then they stuck a robot arm on you? Don’t they have to get consent for stuff like that?”

“When I enlisted, I just signed whatever they put in front of me,” Connor said. “There was a form I could fill out to get an extra few thousand a year. I didn’t read it too closely.”

Jackie took a moment to calm down, picked up the iron again, and went back to work.

Once the connector was on, Jackie plugged in her laptop, opened a terminal, and pulled up the arm’s internal drive. There was a long list of utilities, all with arcane names and no indication as to what any of them did.

“This might take a while,” she warned Connor.

“How long?”

“Long enough that I shouldn’t sit here plugged into your arm the whole time.” Jackie typed out a command to copy the firmware to her own drive. “This next part is going to be very boring.”

Around midnight, Jackie closed her laptop and announced, “I need caffeine.”

Connor, half-asleep, grunted in agreement.

There was a convenience store a few blocks away. Jackie lunged for the drinks fridge the moment they arrived, grabbed two, cracked one open, then wandered toward the snack aisle for her usual ten minutes of indecision.

On the walk over, Connor had asked if Jackie was from around here.

“I like that the rent’s way cheaper.” Jackie wavered between chips and jerky. “I never could’ve afforded to live alone back home.”

“Don’t you miss your friends? Family?”

“My kind of people don’t hang out much in person anyway.”

Momentarily distracted by a display of sour candies, Jackie almost missed it when Connor said, “I don’t talk to anyone. From before.”

It was a weird thing to say right then. Jackie suspected Connor had been trying to say it for a while.

“They all felt so bad about it,” he went on. “And then I’d end up apologizing to them over how bad they felt. And then everyone kept ‘checking in,’ and complaining that I wouldn’t open up to them, and had I talked to my therapist lately, and ...” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the floor. “Eventually I just liked it better when I was alone.”

Jackie said, “Do you want some gummy bears? They’re two for one.”

“Yeah.” Connor’s laugh was short, brittle, but genuine. “Thanks.”

Halfway back to their building, Connor said, “Somebody’s following us.”

Jackie stumbled; Connor steadied her and urged her to keep moving.

“He was outside the convenience store,” Connor explained. “I wasn’t sure until we turned that last corner.”

“What should we do?” Jackie fought down the urge to look back. “The last time this happened I hid in a diner bathroom and called my mom, but she’s not—”

Connor turned on his heel and charged down the sidewalk, back the way they’d come. He had the guy by the front of his shirt by the time Jackie caught up.

She knew that guy.

“Wyatt?”

“Jackie!” Wyatt struggled indignantly in Connor’s grip. “What the fuck?”

Connor said, “You know him?”

“Somebody I knew back home,” Jackie said. “He followed me here.”

“He do that a lot?”

“He’s ... kind of why I had to move.”

Connor’s face settled into a cold mask. Whatever happened next was too fast to follow, and then Wyatt was on the ground, clutching his arm, howling.

There was blood, so deeply red it was almost black under the anemic street lights. Something protruded from the red-black mess, white and jagged, at a sickening angle from the natural line of his arm.

Jackie screamed.

Wyatt scrambled back and staggered to his feet. Jackie tried to help him stand, but he lurched away.

“No, no, wait,” Jackie was babbling, “please let me take you to the hospital—”

“Fuck you, bitch,” Wyatt spat, and bolted.

Connor ignored him. He was staring at her, eyes wide; his right hand reached out for her, but faltered.

She ran.

Jackie didn’t leave her apartment much for the next few days.

In spare moments, she sifted through her copy of the arm’s firmware: opening each utility and fiddling around until she’d figured out what it did. It was time-consuming, but comfortably monotonous—at least until the words “DEBUG TOOLS” appeared at the top of her terminal.

She still had the laptop open in her hands when she knocked on Connor’s door. Connor opened it, then stared at her without speaking, guilt etched across his face.

“Hi,” Jackie said.

“Hi,” Connor replied. “I figured you weren’t talking to me anymore.”

“Yeah. Well.” Jackie cleared her throat. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“I know. You didn’t, though.”

“I know.”

“So. Uh.” Jackie hefted her laptop. “It looks like the company left their whole suite of testing tools installed on your arm.”

“And that’s good?”

“Very,” Jackie said. “They would’ve used all these scripts and commands to run tests while they were developing the firmware. They’ll let us completely bypass the security on your arm and start switching things off.” She lowered the laptop. “You still want to do this?”

A shaky laugh escaped Connor’s throat; he leaned heavily against the door. “Yeah. I do.”

They settled back in at the dining room table, and Jackie plugged her laptop in.

The trick wasn’t getting the arm to ignore the lockout signal. The trick was getting it to respond to the manufacturer as though it had initiated the lockout, even though it hadn’t. Jackie wound up scripting a workaround so that the arm would receive the command, report back like a good little robot, but otherwise completely ignore the lockout order.

It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job.

“Okay.” Jackie opened up another of the test utilities. “I’m going to send a fake lockout signal to the arm, now. Let’s see what happens.”

“If this works,” Connor said, “I owe you dinner.”

“Don’t promise that,” Jackie warned him. “I’m not a cheap date.”

The false lockout signal went through. The arm sent its report back, indicating that it had done as it was told.

“Try to move your arm,” Jackie said.

Connor’s hand twitched, then closed into a fist.

They took the metro downtown. The train rattled and shrieked the whole way; the cars themselves looked to be at least twenty years old, but had been gutted at some point in the last few years so the seats could be “upgraded” to hard, molded plastic. It didn’t deter anyone from sleeping on them.

Connor decided not to wear gloves.

Jackie had found the sushi bar online. It was basically a closet, but the reviews were good—deservedly so, as it turned out. They (mostly Jackie) had demolished at least four rolls and several orders of nigiri when Connor said, “I washed out after they installed the arm.”

Jackie paused to chew and swallow before answering. “Right after?”

“The plan was to send me back out there,” Connor said. “They figured I’d wake up, be grateful for the upgrade, and go right back to fighting. I couldn’t.” He shook his head. “I felt wrong.”

Despite her best efforts, Jackie recalled the scars around Connor’s shoulder. Scars that could’ve been made by fingernails.

“Anyway.” Connor smiled at her. “Thank you.”

All in a rush, Jackie said, “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Connor’s head tilted to the side, like a confused dog. “Okay?”

“I just need to make that clear, because sometimes I get friendly with a guy and he thinks things are going in that direction and then gets upset when they don’t.”

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t think things are going in that direction.”

“Oh.” Jackie slumped back into her seat with relief. “Good.”

Just as the metro was pulling into their station, it came to an abrupt screeching halt. Out on the platform, someone screamed.

Dread pooled in Jackie’s gut. “What’s going on?”

An alert came over the speakers overhead, announcing that all passengers needed to exit the train immediately. There was an edge of panic in the air as they disembarked.

On the platform, a crowd had gathered in front of the gap between two train cars. “What happened?” Jackie asked.

“He jumped,” someone said. “He jumped in front of the train.”

Jackie went cold as the fear in her gut started to spread. “Is he—?”

Connor was taller than most of the others; he leaned over them to look down through the gap between cars, to the tracks below. Recognition flickered across his face.

“What?” Jackie grabbed his sleeve. “Who is it?”

“Nobody.” Connor hooked his arm through Jackie’s and steered her away from the edge of the platform.

Jackie tried to turn back, suspicion dawning. “Is it him?”

Connor didn’t answer.

“Connor.” Jackie tugged on his arm, heart racing. “Is it Wyatt?”

“No.”

She blinked, rapidly. There was something in her eyes. “Are you lying to me?”

Connor shook his head, and Jackie let him pull her up the escalators and out of the station.

It was wordlessly understood that neither of them wanted to be alone, so they ended up in Jackie’s living room while some mindless video played on the TV. Jackie lay on the couch, curled up on her side; Connor sat on the floor next to her head, Greg sprawled purring across his lap.

Eventually, Connor said, “It’s a stupid way to try and kill yourself.”

Jackie didn’t know how to answer that, but he didn’t need her to.

“The train is slowing down as it comes into the station,” he continued. “It’s not going fast enough to kill you. At least not right away.”

All at once, Jackie understood why Connor lived in a building only three stories tall. Why he shaved with an electric razor. Why his car sat unused in an open-air parking lot.

She saw the shape of the grand gesture Connor had ruined by ushering her away from the train before she could see who it hit.

She knew she could check the news to see who it was, and decided she wouldn’t.

Jackie slung one arm around Connor’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug, resting her forehead against the back of his neck.

Connor took her fragile human hand in his mechanical one and held on tight.

(my ko-fi)

#original fiction #short story #science fiction #cyberpunk #cw stalking #cw suicide

81 notes · View notes

oonajaeadira · 1 year ago

Text

✨ Pedro Pascal IMDb Checklist ✨

@wannab-urs, this is such a fun game!!!!!! Thank you for creating it and tagging me!

Put a ❤️ if you’ve seen the actual show/movie (if it’s a show it can just be the episodes he’s in)

Put a 💜 if you’ve seen all the scenes Pedro is in but haven’t actually watched it

Tag some Pedro stans <3

The Last of Us - Joel Miller ❤️

Strange Way of Life - Silva ❤️

Housebroken - Claude 💜

The Mandalorian - Din Djarin ❤️

The Bubble - Dieter Bravo ❤️

House Comes With a Bird - Nico ❤️

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent - Javi Gutierrez ❤️

The Book of Boba Fett - Din Djarin ❤️

Calls - Pedro Across The Street ❤️

We Can Be Heroes - Marcus Moreno ❤️

Wonder Woman 1984 - Maxwell Lord ❤️

Home Movie: The Princess Bride - Inigo Montoya ❤️

Community: Webisodes - Mr. Stone

Triple Frontier - Frankie Morales ❤️

If Beale Street Could Talk - Pietro Alvarez 💜

The Equalizer - Dave York ❤️

Prospect - Ezra ❤️

Kingsman: The Golden Circle - Jack “Whiskey” Daniels ❤️

Narcos - Javier Peña ❤️

The Great Wall - Pero Tovar ❤️

Exposed - Oscar Castro Vargas

Sweets - Twin Peter 💜

Sia: Fire Meet Gasoline ❤️

Bloodsucking Bastards - Max Phillips ❤️

The Mentalist - Marcus Pike 💜

Graceland - Agent Juan Badillo

Game of Thrones - Oberyn Martell ❤️

The Sixth Gun - Special Agent Ortega

Homeland - David Portillo

Red Widow - Jay Castillo

Nikita - Liam

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation - Kyle Hartley

Body of Proof - Zack Goffman

Wonder Woman - Ed Indelicato

Charlie's Angels - Frederick Mercer

Sweet Little Lies - Paulino 💜

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit - Special Agent Greer

Burn Notice: The Fall of Sam Axe - Comandante Veracruz ❤️

Brothers & Sisters - Zach Wellison

The Adjustment Bureau - Maitre D' Paul De Santo

Lights Out - Omar Assarian

The Good Wife - Nathan Landry

Nurse Jackie - Steve 💜

Law & Order: Criminal Intent - Kip Green/Reggie Luckman

Iris - Billy ❤️

I Am That Girl - Noah

Law & Order - Tito Cabassa

Without a Trace - Kyle Wilson

Sisters - Steve

Earth vs. the Spider - Goth Guy

NYPD Blue - Shane 'Dio' Morrissey 💜

Touched by an Angel - Ricky Hauk

Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Eddie ❤️

Undressed - Greg

Good vs Evil - Gregor New

Window Shopping - David

Burning Bridges - Alex

I got 30 out of 57…. (and I would have had more if documentaries and Netflix specials were counted....)

np tags: @grogusmum @insomniamamma @ezrasbirdie @blueeyesatnight @something-tofightfor @stealyourblorbos @leslie-lyman

+ open to anyone who wants to join!

#tag games

31 notes · View notes

my-head-is-an-animal · 1 year ago

Text

Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 35 - Swansong

House sent me the results, but I couldn’t stand the thought of opening them just yet. I didn’t talk to House for a week and in that time, I contemplated going to Wilson and I seriously thought about taking some more morphine, but neither seemed like a good option.

I ran a bath and found myself going through the same routine I usually went through before injecting a high dose of morphine.

‘Screw it.’ I breathed and grabbed a new syringe and a small bottle of morphine. I only dished out half of what I usually went for, but it would be enough to settle my nerves.

I got undressed, got into the bath and relaxed back feeling the morphine starting to circulate. I couldn’t feel a single thing and it felt good.

Anna wasn’t picking up her phone. Wilson was just as worried about her.

‘She’s pregnant.’ House said, quietly. Wilson snapped around to face him in the parking lot. ‘We did a blood test, came back positive. She’s had two miscarriages already, a third might indicate another problem.’

‘Hang on.’ Wilson stopped him. ‘She had a miscarriage? When? When were you gonna tell me? Have you called her?’

‘She’s not picking up.’ House shook his head. ‘I’m gonna head over to her place. Call me if she comes in.’

House got back on his motorcycle and raced around to her apartment. He knocked on the door a few times, before letting himself in with the key he still had. He went straight to the bathroom and once again found her beneath her shower in a pool of blood. Another miscarriage.

Anna’s eyes were bloodshot from crying all night. He spotted the syringe in the sink and half a bottle of morphine sitting next to it, no where near enough to actually cause a miscarriage.

‘We need to get you to the hospital and find out what’s wrong.’ He said, quietly.

'I can't keep doing this to you, Greg.'

House stayed and helped her get cleaned up, he was gentle with her and did what he needed to do. They went back to the hospital and found out she had severe damage to her womb that meant she could never have kids, no matter what.

Anna got back to work, they didn’t talk about anything, she just got on with things. Wilson on the other hand was declining. He had cancer and he was going to die.

They went on a road trip and when they got back, Anna was gone. No note, no forwarding address, no phone number. She was just gone. House focused all his efforts into Wilson, he was all he had left.

He got home one evening after Wilson decided he wanted to die. There was a message on his answering machine.

‘Greg, it’s me.’ Anna. ‘I’ve gone to LA, back at the research centre. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye, I just… everything’s just… I need to start again. I love you more than anything, but I can’t stay in New Jersey and I can’t watch Wilson die and I can’t live everyday knowing that you and I don’t have a future. I didn’t do anything with my life that anyone was grateful for, I never will. People always saw me as the poor broken soldier, not the doctor who was the second best in the hospital and number one cardiologist in the country. I am really good at my job and I am a really good person. I deserve better than what I had, but what I always wanted was you. Greg, I’ll never stop being in love with you, but I need to change something. I made it four months while you were in prison, but barely a week when you were out. Even you can see there’s a connection. I’m so sorry Greg, if you can find a way to forgive me for leaving, come to LA and find me. If you can’t… you were the single best thing I ever experienced. But I wasn’t built for happiness. Goodbye.’

House stared down at the floor for a moment before driving to Anna’s apartment, he got there and found that new people were already moving into her apartment. She really was gone.

He had nothing left, Wilson had five months left to live and Anna was gone. He hated them both, he thought he hated them both, but he loved them and they were leaving him. He had nothing.

Wilson couldn’t believe it, the building burnt down, his best friend chose death over everything else. The funeral was awful and surprisingly Anna didn’t turn up for it, he only realised why when he received a text message saying: shut up you idiot. Wilson couldn’t quite believe it, had House seriously faked his own death?

Wilson drove to his old apartment and found his beast friend sitting on the steps waiting for him. He faked his death to ensure he could spend the next five months with Wilson, he did it for his friend, out of love.

‘You realise we have to go to LA?’ Wilson said, adjusting his helmet as they were about to set off on an epic adventure.

‘Yeah, Anna is waiting for us, we’ll be there in two months time.’ House nodded.

‘You should marry her.’ Wilson thought about it long and hard. ‘I know her last message made things seem like she wasn’t interested, but if you can change, if you can learn to be a little more empathetic, then you might just find what you’re looking for and so might she.’

‘Why do you care? You’ll be dead before the wedding.’

‘Just knowing it’s going to happen will be enough.’ Wilson assured him. ‘You gotta try. You’ve always been in love with her, she’s always been in love with you, this on again off again tango you’ve been doing for the last ten years, it’s time to get off the dance floor.’

House shook his head. ‘She’s better off without me.’

‘I’m not going to spend my last five months arguing about facts.’ Wilson told him firmly. ‘Marry her, give her everything you have, don’t look back and don’t regret not giving it everything you have.’ He exhaled sharply and looked around at the clear day. ‘Lead the way.’

House smirked and half laughed, putting his own helmet on. He revved his motorcycle and they began riding to LA. The last five months of Wilson’s life would be perfectly chaotic and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

END

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

#Greg House #greg house x reader #greg house x original female character #greg house fic #house md

21 notes · View notes