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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months ago

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Secret

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Baby!Reader

Summary: Ingrid's got a secret

"Skatten min," Ingrid coos to you softly," It's okay. It's okay. Let's try and calm down."

You whine helplessly against her, knocking your head against her collarbone as you suckle randomly.

"Skatt," Ingrid laughs," You're not getting milk out of there."

You don't know any different and suckle a bit harder. It's not exactly ideal but Ingrid's happy that you're no longer crying.

You've been tearful ever since she came home from training, wanting nothing more than to be close to her. Usually, Ingrid would give in to your demands but she'd had a meeting with a media outlet back home so had to put you down.

You whined and cried the entire time and have only now quietened.

You were not the most clingy of babies but now that you had both made the move to Spain, something must have flipped in you.

It was hard going. It wasn't that Ingrid was trying to keep you a secret (it's not like you were really a secret if Frido knew who you were) but it was easier to keep football separate from her private life.

Here, at home, it was just you and her and no language barrier to navigate. It was nice and sweet but sometimes Ingrid missed the companionship of people in the apartment.

Frido came over sometimes, always to see you and try to convince you that she was the cooler Scandinavian but no one else on the team knew about you so getting people to come around without blowing the big secret was kind of difficult.

"You calm now, skatt?" Ingrid teases as she sits down on your playmat and draws some toys closer. You reach out easily for your plastic ladybug, hitting the button that makes it sing happily.

You giggle when it starts to sing, babbling along surprisingly in tune for someone so little while Ingrid sings along to the actual words. It's your favourite toy of all time even though Ingrid hates it because it's always so loud.

It's so loud in fact that Ingrid almost doesn't hear the doorbell ring. It goes twice in a little tune and she gets to her feet.

You screech when she moves away but she soothes you with a fond swipe over your hair and an offer for your dummy. You suck it into your mouth quickly, bobbing it rhythmically before smacking your ladybug again.

Ingrid rolls her eyes at you with a little smile before pulling open the door. She expects it to be a delivery man. Her mother has been quite vocal in her annoyance about Ingrid still playing football abroad when she had such a little baby to look after so she had been sending regular gift boxes to the apartment.

She's already reaching for the pen to sign for the package when she realises that it's Mapi.

She freezes.

Ingrid likes Mapi (maybe more than likes her) and her day always brightens after seeing her but there was no reason for Mapi to be waiting outside of her door.

"Has something happened?"

Mapi looks a bit embarrassed to be waiting outside and she clears her throat, holding up a tin. "I made too many cookies," She says," I was wondering if you wanted any."

The tin looks suspiciously like one you buy at a supermarket and the cookies look completely uniform as well, like they've been bought rather than made at home.

"Oh..." Ingrid's face goes a little red like Mapi's too. "Thank you." She takes the tin, brushing her hands against Mapi's with a small smile.

They stand awkwardly on the doorstep, just staring at each other before Mapi jumps out of her skin as the annoying jingle of your ladybug filters through the door.

You screech your own babble to it before there's a loud crash.

Ingrid turns immediately to investigate and Mapi slips through the door before she notices.

"Skatten min," She sighs," You're not meant to throw your toys."

Your ladybug is sitting upside down quite a way away which is fairly impressive for a five-month-old to do. You're still singing along to it though, clapping your hands to the tune and then getting distracted by the fact that you have feet.

"That's a baby. Whose baby is that?"

Ingrid doesn't realise that Mapi is even there until she speaks. She knows the jig is up now and the number of teammates who know about your existence climbs from one to two as Mapi stares down at you.

"My baby," Ingrid admits as she puts the tin of cookies on the counter. "Mapi, this is y/n."

You recognise your name, turning your head to look at her before going back to inspecting your feet.

"A baby," Mapi says again," You have a baby?"

"Yes." Ingrid knows she's being a little bit rude but Mapi's yet to say anything of substance on the matter and she'd rather go in defensive and be surprised rather than calm and end up in an argument.

"But..." Mapi stares at you. "She's so little." She squats down in front of you and waves. "Hola."

You look at her strangely before bum shuffling over to your ladybug, hitting it repeatedly even though it's upside down and you can no longer reach the button.

"Does she not like me?"

Ingrid has to admit, the pout on Mapi's face is adorable. "She likes no one more than that stupid ladybug."

You've worked out how to flip it over again and finally slam your hand on the button, sending it into a new wave of the song.

"She's adorable," Mapi says, standing," Why haven't we seen her before?"

Ingrid shrugs. She doesn't really have a good excuse so she settles on the one that she used on Frido. "It's a hassle, isn't it? There would be no one to watch her if I took her to practice."

"We can all watch her!" Mapi insist, suddenly looking very excited," Someone's always injured so they can take her! Oh, please, Ingrid! She's so cute! She can be the team mascot."

"I don't know..." But Ingrid does know. She's been wanting to take you to practice for a while now but she'd always chickened out, deciding that it was too late to come clean about her little secret.

"Please!" Mapi begs, already moving away to sit next to you. "I promise that there'll be someone to watch her. We can use her as a weight at the gym!"

You look at Mapi oddly again, confused by this strange girl with pictures on her body. You don't do anything though, just hit your ladybug when the song stops and poking at your own feet.

She starts clapping along to the tune though. Mapi doesn't sing like Ingrid does (mainly because the words are in Norwegian and she doesn't know that) but she still tries to engage with you.

You let her and then clamber a bit closer. You're still occupied by your ladybug but you do sit yourself in Mapi's lap and she takes that as a win.

"I guess..." Ingrid says as she watches the way you take Mapi's hand, forcing her touch the button now. "Maybe next week. And only for a few hours."

"Yes!" Mapi pumps her fist into the air before looking down at you. "Did you hear? You're coming to training soon!"

You ignore her, focussed entirely on your ladybug.

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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often-daydreaming · 1 month ago

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Secrets

He wasn't spying or sneaking around or anything really. Well, not right now at least. Tim was only trying to look for Co-, Superboy. He was looking for Superboy for very heroic reasons that didn't involve a lunch date. It was a meeting. A really important meeting Superboy was running late for. That was his only intention for searching some of the more secluded parts of the Watchtower after Dick had mentioned seeing Conner helping out in one of the lower areas. Really, that was it, he truly didn't mean to witness what seemed to be a very private moment going on in one of the smaller garden areas that were rarely ever used.

However, as he saw the scene unfolding right in front of his eyes, he couldn't help but regard it with a little bit of curiosity.

Because Bart wasn't supposed to be up here. He'd been busy all day judging from some of the reports coming in but there he was, sitting on one of the benches and just watching the view of space with Phantom, the mysterious new hero that had recently appeared in Central a few months ago.

He was human or at the very least human adjacent with tech that was years ahead of everyone else on the planet and that was mostly guessing since he rarely used anything besides a few gadgets and his hoverboard that could easily break the sound barrier. Nobody knew if he had anything else or how advanced it all was since he refused to let anyone else touch his gear. Phantom even went out of his way to get patents to cover everything he used after too many people started annoying him about it.

B didn't like it. He didn't like the idea of one person having so many unknowns in their file but Bart had been the first to jump to Phantom's defence with the rest of his family and the Arrows joining in and quickly shutting down any sort of investigation.

Dinah had been ready to take a swing at Bruce over the issue and since then they'd gone out of their way to keep Phantom away from any and every member of the Bat family but here he was just talking with Bart who was quietly leaning against his side, his expression very, very different from normal. He didn't have his usual grin or an easy-going smile. Bart just... he looked so sleepy.

It was probably the first time Tim had seen it outside of the aftermath of an invasion or some major reality ending incident that left everyone completely drained but even then Bart always seemed to have a sort of bottomless energy like nothing could keep him down for long. But seeing him like this he just looked so relaxed, like he could fall asleep any second now.

Tim's racing thoughts were momentarily cut off when he watched on as Phantom pulled out a pocket watch of all things, the casing shimmering and the inside glowing a dark Lazarus green that almost had him rushing forward before he stopped himself, his finger hovering over one of the alarms as he continued to watch the pair.

He couldn't see what they were looking at from the way they were angled so he continued to watch on as Bart leaned more of his weight against Phantom's side looking like he was close to falling asleep.

They were chatting, mumbling in hushed words he couldn't place. He should know it though. Something inside him twitched at the alien like words they were sharing like an itch he couldn't scratch.

It sounded a bit otherworldly in nature maybe even a bit magical but still so soft with every small gesture Phantom and Bart made for each other. None of it was over the top but each movement was considerate of the other, eyes and hands lingered, their smiles growing just that bit sweeter the longer they talked and it intrigued Tim more and more the longer it went on and they got more comfortable.

With his hood pulled back and his mask off he could see a portion of Phantom's face and noticed the faint traces of worried lines on his forehead. He was prime adoption bait and a small part of Tim felt like he was being rude for spying on them like this, but another part which was huge and overpowering, desperately wanted to know everything they were hiding.

Phantom let out a sigh before he said something again, then Bart's shoulders shook the tiniest bit, a small laugh echoing across the garden before he finally took Phantom's hand interlocking their fingers together. Bart whispered something in whatever odd language they were using and Phantom responded with a low murmur. They stayed like that for a moment, conversing with soft voices that Tim couldn't hear anymore which was to be expected. Everyone knew B was recording everything up here in the Watchtower and with how far out of the way the two of them were it was clear nobody else was meant to overhear or even witness any of this at all.

Phantom released another long weary sigh and nodded at whatever Bart was whispering to him only a strong tug on his cape pulled him away before he could overhear anything else as Conner picked him off the ground and hurried down the hall away from the pair while quietly lecturing him about boundaries yet again.

It wasn't even his fault this time.

Add to it if you want but I just really like the idea of Danny and Bart surviving a messed up apocalyptic future together and meeting again in the past. Danny is playing up a Red Huntress/Hunter kind of role since he's putting a lot of miles between him and Amity Park and Bart is helping him hide since they know just about everything about each other after traveling around with Danny for so long when they were sorting out the whole messed up future/evil fusion problem. They handled it. It's not gonna happen anymore so they'd like to have an afternoon off every once in a while where Danny with some help from Clockwork can just block Bart's connection to the Speed Force and dampen both of their superhuman senses for a little bit so they can relax.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #bart allen

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phoenixyfriend · 28 days ago

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I have another AU. Whoo!

Saw a youtube thumbnail that caused some free association...

And imagined an odd little Setting where a bored Padme orders a like… LMD-style droid that looks and acts mostly human, because she's lonely and wants to pretend she has a boyfriend, and then the box arrives and she puts the 'droid' together like it's an IKEA bookshelf, and it wakes up and introduces itself as "Anakin Skywalker."

And so Padme starts living out this idyllic fantasy with a live-in househusband that's mostly like a butler that she can cuddle at night. Maybe sex happens maybe not. Doesn't matter. Mostly just Padme indulging in some relaxing fantasy time.

And then he gets a virus and goes Vader mode, and she has to fight for her life against her robot boyfriend.

(Padme has a date with this dashing young captain in the army who made a comment about how he's a bit uncomfortable with the droid boyfriend he saw in a linen closet.)

Little bit of "Megan," little bit of like… idk Disney's "Smart House" or any other movie where the robot starts thinking it's human, gets yandere about the love interest, and decides to do murder about it.

@atagotiak said: Maybe the virus or glitch or whatever isn't obvious immediately, just when she starts to maybe be interested in a human…

So yeah, the virus isn't super noticeable at first, buuuut then Rex shows up and. Well.

As @jebiknights put it:

Captain Rex being weird about the robot boyfriend is great Yes he's pretty but why is he here why is he in your closet just why

She was LONELY and she DOESN'T TRUST MEN because they keep trying to STEAL STATE SECRETS FROM HER DATAPADS, okay?

Her last real relationship was with Clovis, who was getting bribed to steal information on legislation she was drafting for tech safety stuff.

"My last boyfriend was slicing into my private servers to violate republic security and I was paranoid about that so I got a robot boyfriend." "Couldn't he slice in even more easily?" "I mean probably, but he can't really be bribed and I had a friend go through his code to make sure he didn't have any external loyalties, so he wouldn't."

The friend was R2-D2, which is great, buuuuuut Anakin not having any outside loyalties doesn't prevent his firewalls from getting fucked up.

jebiknights:

Omg r2d2 and Anakin mega best friends in this Artoo LOVES harassing high strung droids

I think somehow she and Rex manage to neutralize Anakin without 'killing' him and he? ends up in the care of Obi-Wan? I don't know why or how or what's going on but Anakin ends up latching on to Obi-Wan like a dog to the owner that's the most generous with the treats.

It could end with murdering the evil bot, but I think it's funny for him to just end up Obi-Wan's problem. Like always.

Padme: This droid is uh. Well he's designed to be a boyfriend? To deal with being lonely? Please don't judge me. Obi-Wan: I don't, uh. I don't need a boyfriend. I just need to figure out what happened in the code to cause this so we can let the manufacturer know. Padme, embarrassed: Listen, you can probably just leave him shut down in a corner or something, I'm just worried that trying to deactivate him entirely could reactivate the murder mode? Anyway, mostly he just wants… you know… to sleep in my bed and make dinner and stuff. So you can probably keep him happy while you investigate the issue by just letting him cook for you or something. Obi-Wan: I don't know that I'm comfortable with letting a designed-for-romance droid sleep in my bed with me. Anakin, gauging Obi-Wan's face for his age: I do not need to be a boyfriend. Obi-Wan, unnerved and relieved: Oh, good. Anakin: I will be your son. Obi-Wan: What.

Anakin is making himself Obi-Wan's problem. Padme is mortified. Rex is just icing his shoulder.

@firebirdeternal offered:

I like the idea that Anakin isn't any less evil he's just in charge of like. A single holo-display with no internet access. The worst he can do is be emo in Obi-wan's living room when he's trying to read. "First step in solving the problem of evil sapient technology: Don't hook them up to anything with a connection or a motor. Second step: Don't let them on your Spotify account or they will ruin your recommendations for months."

#star wars #rexidala #anidala #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #captain rex #r2d2 #r2 d2 #obi wan kenobi #evil robots #android au #phoenix posts #yandere anakin #(It's not his fault he's just drawn that way)

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zerbu · 1 year ago

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The Sims 4 Mod: Simvestigations

Your Sims can become private investigators in this mod for The Sims 4! What was originally based on the Private Investigator active career from The Sims 3 Ambitions, evolved into its own mini game game. Take cases and look for clues to determine who is innocent, and who is the culprit.

How to Play

The mod adds a new "Simvestigations" app to the phone. Select it and choose "Search for Cases" to find a case to solve. It works similarly to the Odd Jobs system from Island Living. Solving cases increases your star rating, and a higher star rating unlocks more cases that are higher paying but more difficult.

After choosing a case, the game will assign a random Sim as the culprit, and one or more other Sims as decoys (assuming you start a 0 stars, your first case will only have one decoy). Using interactions that are available to your Sim, deduce which Sim is the culprit. There are various ways to find clues, including talking to the suspect, rummaging through their trash, using the Listening Device from StrangerVille, and more. See further down for more information. The mod is more likely to choose Sims with traits, skills or who live in worlds based on the case description.

As your Sim finds information about the case, there is a random chance it will increase your Sim's "Confidence" that the other Sim is the culprit. Once your Sim's Confidence reaches 100%, you can use the phone to report the culprit and complete the case.

Your Sim isn't doing all the work, though. You, the player, have a bit to do as well. While the chance of gaining Confidence is random, it is higher when looking for information on the actual culprit than on a decoy. Therefore, if you notice an unusually high success rate, you may have found the culprit and should continue investigating. Conversely, if you notice a low success rate, maybe you should start investigating a different suspect. Your Sim can only ever get 100% Confidence on the culprit, decoys will cap out.

Ways to Investigate

There are multiple ways you can find information on a suspect:

Become friends with them and convince them to give you information.

Become friends with them and trick them into giving you information.

Be mean to them and demand information.

Secude them for information.

Become friends with a household member and ask for information.

Rummage through their trash.

Research them on a computer.

Hack for information on a computer.

Use the Listening Device from StrangerVille. After using the device to listen in on a suspect, click their recording and select "Use as Case Evidence". This will delete the recording and has a chance to increase your Sim's Confidence.

Analyze previously rummage trash using the Chemical Analyzer from Get to Work.

Side Cases

Aside from the mini game, there are other cases you can take to earn extra money and increase your star rating. These include socializing with other Sims around town for information, exploring hidden areas from packs, and more.

Some side cases require certain packs to function. The mod is split into seperate package files, so you can delete ones for packs you don't have.

Download

Ready to start solving cases? Download the mod now!

Download Simvestigations

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 #the sims #s4cc

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rendy-a · 5 months ago

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hello if u dont mind, may I request your newest post with the rumored ramshackle girl with jade, azul and floyd please?

In case you are new to these prompts, this is a series where the students of NRC suspect the Prefect of Ramshackle might be a girl and are terribly interested in confirming if this is true. In the interest of keeping my writing gender neutral, the results of this investigation are always left up to the reader.

The bootcamp Azul, Jade and Floyd had attended before coming to the surface had covered many things about surface dwellers and their lives but some things remained a mystery. “So, tell me again why I can’t just ask the Prefect to see their little leg?” Floyd asks in an annoyed voice. Azul sighs deeply, the conversation having gone on for quite a while, “Firstly, that’s not a leg and secondly, it just isn’t done on the surface!” Floyd gnashes his sharp teeth in frustration. “My, my,” Jade coos, “What an unfortunate mystery.” Azul scowls over at Jade, “This isn’t helping anyone. We need to sit and think about this rationally.”

Floyd continues to mutter discontentedly but does move over to one of the sofa’s that flank Azul’s desk in the private back office of Mostro Lounge and takes a seat. Jade slides to sit across from him in his signature gentlemanly manner. The brusque air in which Azul plops down in his chair is testament to how preoccupied his thoughts are; even his suave persona is showing cracks. He gathers up some pages of notes, trying to sort them before giving up and tossing the messy pile next to a stack of books. Jade eyes the titles and smiles amused at the confused collection including such things as “What Women Want” and “How to Land Your Hunk in 10 Easy Steps.” Azul notices Jade’s attention and quickly slides the stack of books into a desk drawer while flushing deeply.

“Ah hem,” he clears his throat, “Sometimes even well thought out plans need to be adapted and changed.” He looks slowly down at the stack of discarded notes, “And then changed again and again,” he softly mutters. Jade smiles widely at Azul’s agitation. “Ah hem,” Azul clears his throat to prepare to steer the conversation, “Now, what we need to discuss is how we are going to solve this little mystery.” Floyd takes in a big breath and Azul quickly adds, “In a way approved by surface dwellers!” Floyd frowns and mutters, “This blows. Why do humans make everything so complicated?” Jade places his gloved hand over his heart and commiserates with his sibling, “Why yes, it is a shame the Prefect isn’t attending school under the sea with us. Things are so much straightforward with mer.”

Jade likely hadn’t intended to be helpful, as he was so enjoying the distress of his companions, and yet his comment caused Azul to take a long pause. “Under the sea…” the pensive dorm leader trails off. Jade narrows his eyes a bit, considering Azul. Then he ventures a snide comment, “You aren’t planning to ask the Prefect to show you their tail fin, are you? Because I’d certainly enjoy watching that conversation.” Floyd shares a chuckle with his twin. Azul glares at the duo before sitting back and steepling his hands, “Well, maybe I will.” Floyd’s expression immediately changes into a scowl, “I thought we couldn’t ask the Prefect to show us their little leg!” Azul’s brow knits tightly as he glares at Floyd again before he lets out a long-suffering sigh and lets it go. “Come here boys, I’ve got a plan.”

The Prefect of Ramshackle dorm follows Jade eagerly down the glass hallway leading toward Octavinelle. “Are you sure there isn’t some sort of contract waiting for me?” you ask again. Jade smiles at you, appearing to be amused rather than annoyed at your repeated question, “I assure you, Prefect, that this outing is entirely for our benefit. In fact, it is you doing us a favor and not the other way around.” You can’t help but maintain your suspicion, “Maybe I should be negotiating for something more then. Get the most out of this deal while Azul is being so generous.” Jade bows apologetically, “I’m afraid, Prefect, that the potion we’re providing you complementary is the extent of our benevolence today.” You follow silently for a moment before you can’t help but interject, “But it’s free, right?”

Instead of answering you, Jade sweeps open a door and gestures for you to proceed him. You’ve arrived at Octavinelle. You always feel a certain way when you cross the threshold of this dorm. It’s like a certain sense of foreboding that warns you that dangerous creatures lurk in the dark of the deep ocean. As usual, you push down any minor unpleasantness and follow your eel guide deeper into the lair of your host.

When you arrive at the lounge, Floyd catches sight of you first and bounds to his feet. “Shrimpy, you’re here!” Then he uses his unusual strength to swing you off your feet as you chide him to set you down. He is in an exceptionally good mood today, for which you are grateful. You wouldn’t want to set out on such an undertaking with Floyd in a bad mood. “Give our guest some space, Floyd,” Azul admonishes gently, “You’ll have to forgive him. We are all very excited for the outcome of today’s experiment.”

This reminds you of your unusual task today. Azul had explained it as an exercise in advanced potion making. He was tweaking a transformation potion to not only allow for a human-to-mer transformation but one that also let the potion maker control the type of mer they transformed into. Azul had lamented that he was unable to get the assistance of Jade and Floyd or take it himself, “For you see, Prefect, the results would be inconclusive as we are already mer.” While that did seem to make sense, you’d long since developed a healthy amount of caution with anything the trio was tied to. You’d have steered clear of Azul’s scheme entirely if it wasn’t for the alure of transforming into a mer. That was an experience you just couldn’t resist.

You gaze at Azul cautiously and hesitantly ask, “So what sort of mer do you have planned for me? It’s not something crazy like a whale or shrimp, right?” Floyd smiles when you mention ‘shrimp’ but says nothing. Instead, Azul sweeps in with his businessman persona to finish ‘selling’ you on the experiment. “Of course not, Prefect!” he soothingly says as he dramatically gestures, “I assure you that we’ve chosen something simple for you. This is just a first experiment, after all. We didn’t plan on going into elaborate trials yet.” You deadpan, “Just tell me.” Jade chuckles at your reply and steps in, “It’s a Koi fish. Nothing to be alarmed at, I assure you.” Well…that actually sounded fine. It was at least a fish you’d heard of, and you couldn’t really think of any objections to it. “Once I’m transformed, you aren’t going to do anything funny to me.” Floyd, bored with waiting, jumps in, “Come on Shrimpy, we just wanna see your tail and then we are good.” Then he leans in toward you, “After that, I’ll take ya swimming. Show you around the reef.”

Honestly, it sounded like a rare experience, and you couldn’t help but be excited. So, you ignored any last lingering doubts and held out your hand for the potion. Jade sets the potion in your waiting hand, and you hold eye contact as you uncork the potion and throw it down your throat. The initial taste was vile, but it had a slight fruity aftertaste which suggests Azul had at least attempted to soften the flavor for you. You wondered at the consideration and the associated implications before feeling a twist in the pit of your stomach. “Where is the pool?” you demand as you feel the urgent need to be in the water. Floyd grabs your hand and pulls you along after him before pushing you into a room and closing the door behind you. “Go on Shrimpy,” you hear him call out with a laughing voice from beyond the door, “we’ll catch up to you after.”

You feel the beginning of a shift and quickly remove your clothing, not even bothering to fold it nicely and hastily dive into the pool. There is an immediate sense of relief as the sea water fills your emerging gills and you marvel at the gold, white and black speckled tail emerging from your bottom half. You arranged some shell adorned clothing you’d brought with you to cover your top in what you hoped was a cool mer-inspired fashion and decided you were ready to exit to the reef beyond.

Two shadows pass overtop of you and you startle and look around for the source. You fail to control your surprise as a long tail wraps around your new tail and another around your arm. You struggle for a moment before realizing this is what they want and let yourself go slack. Jade chuckles and Floyd huffs before they release you and allow you to spin yourself around and look into their too smug faces. “Why Prefect, how koi of you,” Jade drawls in amusement. It takes you a moment to understand his pun and ask, “Was that what this was for? So you could make fish puns.” Floyd scoffs, “Nah, these days Jade is only into mushroom puns.” You roll your eyes, “Sorry for missing the perk of it then.” Jade and Floyd share a look, “This variety just has many hidden benefits.” You peer at them suspiciously, “Like what?”

When neither of them answers beyond an ominous sounding chuckle, you ask again in a panic, “Like what!” They have no time to answer as, with a sudden yelp, they are yanked from your side by a pair of dark tentacles. “Jade, Floyd,” drawls Azul, “You are being rude to our special guest.” Then he slowly slides to your side as you attempt to not stare at his octo-mer form. One sleek tentacle rises and taps one of the shells you decorated yourself with. You fluster, noticing none of the others had chosen to wear anything decorative like this. “I thought it was a nice touch,” you mutter embarrassed. “Why yes,” Azul quietly replies, “it does suit you quite well.” His compliment relatives some of your tension, “Does it look strange?” Now it was Azul’s turn to fluster. After several false starts, he finally squeezes out a response, “I see you are the traditional sort.”

You looked at him questioningly and Jade sweeps in to alleviate your confusion, “Shells. Both the Mermaid Princess and the benevolent Sea Witch were said to have worn shell accessories. You look like quite the proper mer.” Perhaps it was the smile or the fact that you now felt like a very fashionable mer indeed, but you didn’t question them further when Azul instructs Jade and Floyd to take some measurements of your tail. You watch them span a measuring tape around several areas of your tail to take its width. They also appeared to have great interest in the degree of transparency of your fins.

With each item Azul added to his notebook, he muttered, “I see, I see.” You curiously asked, “Are these the results you were hoping for?” He meets your eye and softly replies, “I’d have been happy either way. It’s the knowing that is important. You can’t plan without knowing.” You look over to Floyd and ask, “Plan what?” Floyd gives you a little giggle and reaches out to seize your hand, “Hey Shrimpy, this is getting boring. What do you say we have ourselves a race?” You privately agree that this was dragging on, so you give Azul a look as though to ask if you were free to go. He sighs and gives you a nod.

You give Floyd’s hand a shake in response and shout, “Alright! Let’s give this tail a real trial now!” Then you kick off and shout, “First one to that coral formation is a cuttlefish!” Floyd laughs manically as he shoots after you. Jade gives Azul a measuring glance and they share a knowing smile before he follows along, observing at a distance. Azul makes no effort to follow and instead turns his attentions to his notebook and plans. You spent the rest of the time your potion lasts happily swimming about the reef, blissfully unaware that three predators had firmly set their sights on you. And, now that their little mystery was cleared up, there was nothing standing in the way of their schemes.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #azul ashengrotto #twst x reader #floyd leech #jade leech

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its-all-stardust · 5 months ago

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Sugar || 9

Masterlist || Part Eight

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

Note: this chapter is very late and fairly short. tbh i could have added a lot more, but seeing as it's been 2 months since the last chapter, i wanted to get something out. But I am still working on this fic!! I'm going to finish it i swear, so please please yell at me to get my ass moving!!

When you called the next day, Steven didn’t answer. You waffled about whether to leave a voicemail and ultimately decided not to—not on that call, anyway.

On the second call, later that day, Steven still didn’t answer. That time, you left a message asking if he was feeling better and asking him to please call you back.

He didn’t. There wasn’t even a response when you sent his payment for going with you to the auction, something entirely unlike him.

By the third call, another day later, you were afraid of once again being too much, too needy. Yet you left another message anyway. You tried to keep it professional, not wanting to let on how upset you were.

“Steven, I still haven’t heard from you. I was just checking in. If there’s an issue with our business arrangement, please let me know as soon as possible.”

You wonder if he’s sleepwalking again or whatever disorder is causing him to blackout. Perhaps it’s like that first time, and Steven will come back confused but well and whole. You try to tell yourself that’s what’s happening now, trying to remain positive.

But, of course, the worry still creeps in.

What if he’s lost?

What if he’s hurt?

Should you call someone and report him missing? Is he missing?

There’s a chance you could be taken seriously, but you also know you could be seen as a psycho jilted ex-lover.

You contemplate the merits of hiring a private investigator or going to Steven’s apartment yourself to see if he’s there.

You can’t go in, you don’t have a key, but you could knock. Maybe even ask his neighbors if they know anything.

You simultaneously try to convince yourself that nothing is wrong and something is.

If something has gone wrong, he needs you, and you can’t get to him. If it hasn’t, then he’s purposefully avoiding you for whatever reason.

You remind yourself you shouldn’t feel this way. Shouldn’t feel so attached.

By Sunday evening, you’re a bit of a mess. If you bit your nails, they’d be gone by now. Instead, your anxiety manifested outward. Your apartment is both chaos and order.

You went on a bit of a cleaning spree. Normally, once a month, you hire someone to come deep clean your home, moving furniture and putting in more elbow grease than you typically care to. These last few days, though, you attempted to take matters into your own hands. And while you were already cleaning, you figured you might as well sort through your cabinets, closets and shelves to see if there is anything you no longer feel the need to hold on to.

As a result, the bathrooms and Steven’s bedroom are spotless. The living room and the kitchen have been destroyed. Only your bedroom is untouched, but that’s only because you got distracted after going through the walk-in closet.

You would have kept going until something in you snapped, or everything was back in order if only the hunger pangs weren’t so distracting. It was a blessing in disguise that your nerves never seemed to affect your appetite.

You’re at your kitchen table, barely tasting whatever leftovers you had in the fridge and staring off into the middle distance when your phone rings.

At first, the sound doesn’t register, drowned out by the constant static filling your head the last few days. But then you realize what it is and lunge toward the counter where you left your phone.

Your heart stops when Steven’s name flashes on the screen. You don’t have to think before pressing the phone to your ear a second later.

“Please tell me it’s still Friday,” Steven blurts as soon as you answer. “Or even Saturday, and I got really drunk on champagne last night.”

Relief fills you, but it’s quickly overshadowed by worry.

“Baby, it’s Sunday,” you tell him gently, sinking back into your chair at the table.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Steven says, dejected.

For the past few days, you had thought, perhaps, that Steven was going to end your relationship. That he no longer wanted to be your sugar baby and didn’t know how to tell you. But his losing time, unable to recall anything during his blackouts, is much more frightening.

“It’s like I’m losing my mind,” Steven continues. “First, I’m losing days, and now Gus regrew a fin.”

That catches your attention. “Gus what?”

You distinctly remember Steven talking about his pet goldfish only having one fin. “Goldfish don’t regrow body parts, Steven.”

“Well, it’s either that or someone broke into my flat, stole Gus, and replaced him with an imposter,” Steven says, his voice bordering on joking and hysterical.

As ridiculous as it sounds…

“You’re sure you don’t remember doing any goldfish shopping?” you ask feebly. Someone replaced Gus after who knows what happened to him, and the most likely culprit would be Steven himself. Not that any attempts at regaining blackout memories have proven fruitful, nor is there an obvious explanation as to why he would do that in the first place.

“Not that, at least,” Steven answers quietly.

“You remember something?” you ask quickly, excited. Whatever it is, it might help you both figure out what’s happening.

“There’s…something alright.” He’s hesitant, like he isn’t sure what to tell you. Perhaps afraid you’ll think him crazy or maybe be disturbed by what he does remember.

“Can I…come over?” Any confidence Steven had around you seems to have been washed away by whatever happened while he was gone. In its place is the same uneasy timidity he had when you first began your relationship when he wasn’t sure what he could and couldn’t do.

“Steven, you never have to ask.”

When he walks through the door, Steven goes straight for your embrace, desperately, it seems, needing your arms around him. He breathes a sigh of relief, melting into you.

You don’t say anything and simply enjoy the feeling of Steven in your arms again. Before, you could survive a few days without him next to you. Now, you can’t imagine letting him out of your sight.

You don’t know when that change happened.

“Do you need anything?” you finally ask, your voice breathless. A mixture of relief and Steven squeezing you a little too tightly—not that you’re complaining.

“Just you,” Steven mumbles, his face buried in your neck. A pleasant heat fills you.

The two of you stand there for a moment longer, tangled up in each other, relishing in the comfort. You want to move to the couch to hold Steven properly but don’t want to be the first to let go. You don’t want Steven to think for even one second that you’re abandoning him in any way.

Steven shifts, lifting his head, and presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“At least I know you’re real,” he mutters more to himself than to you.

You have no idea what that means. It’s likely a part of what he has to tell you about the last few days.

“What happened?” you ask softly, prompting him.

Finally, Steven stands up straight, his arms loosening around you but not completely letting go.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Then, with a slight shake of his head, he says, “I don’t even know where to start.”

With your hands on his arm, you lead Steven to the couch. “May I?” you ask, and with Steven’s nod, you continue. “Let’s start with the auction. You seemed fine at first, but something happened to you.”

Steven’s brow furrows in concentration, trying to remember what happened just a few short days ago.

“I remember going. We met your friend, but then…” He shakes his head. “It’s blank. Part of me didn’t feel right, but… I don’t know how to describe it. One second was with you, and the next, I was dreaming or something before waking up in my bed.”

Steven’s eyes widen, apparently realizing something. “Oh God, I didn’t just leave you there, did I?” he quickly asks, eyes searching yours.

“You didn’t,” you assure him. Even though Steven has the right to walk out on your arrangement anytime he wants, aside from your assumptions after the auction, he’s never shown any sign of wanting to do so. “You had me take you home, though. Do you remember that?”

Steven shakes his head. “When did that happen?”

The best place, you decide, is the beginning. Instead of guessing at what Steven doesn’t remember, you replay the whole night for him—even the parts he’s already mentioned himself.

“I thought you didn’t like being there. Maybe you were bored, or the crowd was too much for you. You got so quiet. And then you asked me to take you home.”

“I don’t…feel like myself.”

You weren’t sure what he meant at the time, but now it makes sense that that was when Steven’s memory started going blank.

“I don’t remember that,” Steven says softly. “Did something happen afterward? When did I leave?”

“Leave?” you repeat, slightly confused.

Steven continues, not hearing you. “Did I say where I was going? Or…or did I sleep in the spare room?”

That’s when you realize that Steven didn’t think of his apartment when you said you took him home. He thought you meant yours.

“Steven,” you say, interrupting him before he could keep trying to fill in the blanks himself. “I didn’t bring you back here. You had me take you to your apartment. Something about you needing to be there.”

Steven’s face scrunches up in confusion as if that course of action doesn’t make sense to him. He goes silent, and you let him think.

You want to ask about what he said that night, what it could have meant. What it was about himself he couldn’t tell you.

But you don’t. He didn’t want to talk about it then, and there’s a reason he wouldn’t know what you were talking about if you did.

An eerie feeling washes over you. At the time, you knew something was wrong, but looking back now and realizing that something inside Steven had changed, and he was no longer remembering what he was doing leaves you unsettled.

Whatever is happening to him, you need to help figure it out. The problem is, as far as any doctor could tell, it wasn’t anything physical, nothing that left an outward sign of its presence, leaving you at a loss.

“I followed you in,” you tell Steven, needing to say something about what happened in his apartment. “Pretty sure you didn’t want me to. You kind of…ran, but I needed to know you were okay.”

“Well, now I know something was definitely wrong with me. I would never run from you if I were in my right mind,” Steven tries to joke, but it comes out weak, without much feeling behind it.

It’s nice to hear nonetheless, especially with how this whole ordeal had left you feeling.

“I didn’t stay long,” you continue, no longer meeting Steven’s eye and instead turning your attention to your still interlocked hands. “It didn’t seem like you wanted me there.”

It was Steven, yet not Steven, sitting awkwardly at the table as you made him tea. Though he didn’t seem to hate you, he was clearly uneasy with you being in his space. Your heart pangs in your chest.

Before you can stop yourself, before you can even think, words spill from your lips.

“And then you wouldn’t answer my calls. Now I know why, but I thought I had done something, and maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

Steven’s breath catches.

No, no, no, you weren’t supposed to say it like that. You should have practiced the words beforehand.

You lo-like Steven, but your relationship doesn’t have room for that. You’re in this position specifically, so you don’t get caught up in feelings. You don’t want them. They’re messy and complicated and leave you hurt more often than not. You pay people to avoid feelings, and it’s always worked so well.

Until Steven.

It shouldn’t matter if he wants you, whatever that entails. As long as he’s happy to accept your money for his services, you should be content.

The last thing you want is to pressure Steven into anything, which means keeping any and all ill-advised emotions to yourself.

You don’t want this relationship to end; admitting anything is a surefire way of making that happen.

“I thought you didn’t want to be my baby anymore,” you correct. Your first admission is true, but it’s best if Steven thinks this is what you meant, and you can pretend it doesn’t sound just as desperate.

Steven squeezes your hand and doesn’t release the pressure, making you meet his gaze.

“When I woke up, I saw you had called,” he starts, his voice quiet, eyes intently looking into yours. “I was so scared, I didn’t listen to them. I just needed to call you. See you.” He takes a shaky breath. “And…I think I’ve known for a while, really, but I realized something just now.”

Your brow furrows, wondering what he’s thinking.

“I have…so much I still need to tell you, but I think I need to say this now.” He starts talking faster as if he thinks if he doesn’t get the words out quickly enough, they won’t come out at all. Then, in a rush, he says, “I don’t want to be your baby anymore.”

Your heart stops beating, and pain fills your chest.

“I’d rather be your boyfriend.”

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mo0nfairy · 2 years ago

Text

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART TWO !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 5.8k

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, sexual themes, stalking, gore, nightmares, weapons, breaking and entering, drugging/drug mentions, nudity, kidnapping, noncon touching, jill is a greasy rat basically lol.

jill valentine's yandere traits are . . .

possessive, dominant, & stalker

──── Jill Valentine hates the taste of coffee. Yet still, her kitchen cabinets are full of it.

Littered around her apartment, there are mugs stained with days-old coffee. The caffeinated scent clings to the walls and makes her stomach coil. A mess of documents sits on her cluttered desk. The October wind whistling through the window sends a few pieces fluttering down to the dirty floorboards. 3:57 AM is read on a digital clock in its neon red hues; the flickering lamp light on the desk illuminates the mess of broken pencils, coffee stains, and case files. With an accelerated heartbeat and heaving breaths, Jill hastily analyzes the CCTV footage on her jagged laptop.

Every person, every street sign, every single pixel on the screen. Maybe, just maybe, she'll find you among this mess.

Other tabs display missing persons' documents, reports from private investigators, and checkpoints on satellite imagery. Ms. 'I don't mind a little detective work' has spent every day of the past six years doing this exact thing. Weaving through any bit of information and manipulating every resource she could get her hands on. Everything she does is to try and find the one thing that matters more than anything to her.

Y/N L/N. The name she will never forget.

Jill remembers your sultry body, your delicious gratitude, your sweet blood staining her clothes; she will never forget how you sparked the beginning of her life in Raccoon City. She will always remember how she didn't know what emotion was until she met you and how Raccoon City was the best night of her life because of it. A raw flurry of fuzzy, warm feelings embraced her, as well as the cold fingertips of rage, envy, and fear. It was messy, but it was so, so beautiful.

There is nothing now.

Her worst fear had come alive. To continue to live every day just for the sake of living while desperately trying to fill the empty void within her — it had all come back in a flash. Just when she had wrapped her fingers around happiness, it was torn from her grasp like candy from a baby. And if you had asked where Jill thought she would be six years after that night, the image she would paint for you would be far more illuminative than the life she now lives. A rundown studio apartment infested with rats and cockroaches, but she'd be able to endure any germ-infested danger with the light of her life beside her. Every day would be spent deconstructing your facade and dissecting the beautiful person you are; every day would be spent dragging her fingertips along every inch of your body, blithely taking note of what makes you blush and squirm.

She would be happy. And you would be, too.

Jill is now stuck in a cave. Adorned in darkness and devoid of life. In a city she doesn't know, becoming a person she doesn't recognize — she can't fathom how disastrous her life had become since she lost you. She can't fathom the idea of you not being here with her, to begin with.

Skimming through the fatuous clues laid out before her, Jill takes a peek at the satellite imagery in one browser and something catches her eye. A habilitation, of some sort. Located in the middle of nowhere, overwhelmed with heaps of endless trees. She searches for any further information regarding this strange building, only to find there is no trace of this place even existing. It is certainly odd, yes, but does not relate to you in any shape or form. With that, she lets her curiosity go and occupies her time with more productivity.

Another hour drifts by. Waiting for a returning email from one of the numerous private investigators she hired, Jill reads through medical records in hopes of finding anything reminiscent of you. Maybe by some brush of luck, you'd still be treated for your broken arm six years later. However, this mysterious building still fogs up her mind. How could such a large structure be built with not a single trace existing? Surely, someone would have stumbled upon the property by now, right? Snuffing out her pride, Jill gathers the coordinates and sends them out to Tyrell. With his technology skills, he may be able to uncover something about the strange place. Even though Jill knows in her heart it's nothing but a dead end, it's still something, nonetheless. And after all this time of relentlessly doing the same thing over and over again, she has become desperate.

A sudden flare of lethargy envelops Jill. With her persistent intake of caffeine, this isn't anything abnormal. She's prone to just crashing at her bed, her desk, or sometimes, even onto the floor. With drooping eyelids, Jill folds her arms on the table and rests her head against them. There's no harm in a little shut-eye, right?

What she didn't expect is to be abruptly woken by a gentle tap on her shoulder. And she most certainly didn't expect to find you standing there beside her. Saccharine-sweet smile, skin clean of any zombie-induced grime — you're at her side wearing an old S.T.A.R.S. hoodie with your upper thigh peeking out of your sweatshorts (inevitably sending a flare of heat to Jill's core). In your hand is a cold beer, a prize for Jill after the hours of hard work she has endured at her desk. And she is just in pure awe at the sight of you. She discards the beverage in favor of pulling you into her lap. You swing your arms around her neck like a newlywed bride with that damned, heart-stuttering smile of yours growing from the sudden act of affection.

Jill's eyes peer down to your hips. Her rough fingers fidget with the elastic band of your shorts, subtly asking you to let her hands wander further. Her touch wanders beneath the hem of the ragged sweatshirt you were wearing. When her hand makes contact with the warm skin of your stomach, a gasp escapes her chest at the intimate contact. You gently place your soft hand atop hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and rapture. You're here; you're alive. Her sweet, adoring, blue butterfly has returned to her and Jill can't handle the sheer euphoria that comes from the revelation.

It isn't until she feels your chest begin to stutter from silenced coughs does she finally return her focus to your face. Only to find your eyes had gone milky white, your skin growing purple in rotting hues, and decomposing gashes opening themselves all over your body as they gush out with puss. The wheezes protruding from you accelerate into harsh gags. A splurge of red-hot blood then spurts from your mouth and onto Jill. She has no time to revel in the burning fantasy of being covered in your bodily fluids, she can only stare in complete horror at what has befallen her beloved. You then push yourself off of Jill, to where you begin convulsing on the ground like a dying insect. It is horrifying. And to suddenly be without your touch after so long of hungrily basking in it — Jill hates to admit how badly it hurts her.

A sharp cry accompanied by a horrified gasp permeates the lonely air. Reality suddenly washes over her and Jill buries her face into her hands with a sigh of defeat. Another nightmare. Another fucking nightmare of millions. She should've known it'd be too good to be true; she should've known that a perfect life with you by her side was nothing more than a fantasy. And God, does it fucking kill her.

Stepping away from her disordered desk, she walks to the dresser sitting on the other side of the room. Jill digs through the unfolded mess of dirty laundry until she's finally able to dish out what she intended. The old S.T.A.R.S. sweatshirt you had worn in her dream. Despite the loose threads protruding from the hems and gaping holes littered against the fabric, you made it look like a piece of high fashion etched with velvet and silk. She wraps the article of clothing around her figure and snuggles into the article, pretending it's you she is holding in her arms. Jill then crouches down at the foot of her bed, plucking out a dilapidated shoe box from underneath. Inside is a singular item that has and always will remain the most important object Jill has ever possessed.

A bloodied bandage. Covered with dirt and riddled with age, this singular bandage was what she had taken from Kendo's first aid kit six years ago.

She remembers how your skin felt beneath her as she wrapped the bandage around you; she remembers how she slyly slipped the garment into her pocket when Carlos was caught up in tending to your broken arm. Jill presses the bandage to her cheek, pretending it's your comforting hand against her face instead of some tattered piece of gauze. If only she had known what the future had in store for her that night, she would have never let you step foot onto that train. Hell, she would have never let you step foot out of her sight ever again. Until the end of time, however, Jill will continue to search the world over and over again to find you. You are the only thing keeping her alive, after all.

The quick tune of an email alert brings Jill out of her lovesick, grief-burdened daze. She discards the precious cargo in her hands back to its home beneath her bed, then returns to her desk. In the three hours Jill had been knocked out cold, Tyrell had managed to bypass the security system that was "a bitch to get through" (his exact words). In the email, he provided several files that contain security system footage from cameras scattered around the area. Feverishly, Jill double-clicks the links and analyzes the pixelated footage. She knows what she is looking for, and despite the voice of logic on her shoulder whispering of what a waste of time this was, she still persevered.

A hallway filled with bustling doctors, a garden filled with meditating patients, and a cafeteria swarming with warm food and activity. Lastly, the final file shows a library. Unlike the others, the peaceful environment was scattered with little activity. The only form of life in the room was a few faces around who had their noses buried in books. A figure then ventures around the corner of a bookshelf, a stack of books held tight to their chest. Through the mess of pixels, a familiar face comes clear into frame.

You.

Something bright fills her chest. Hope, relief, elation. It bubbles in Jill's heart and paralyzes her entire body. The only thing she can do is stare at the screen with her jaw on the floor. You are her butterfly, beautiful and fleeting. She's been nothing but a worm trying to squirm its way through the soil and into the sky. Now, however, she can finally hold your hand in hers; she can finally fly with you at her side. Her teeth chatter behind her smile as she leans closer to the laptop, watching intensely. You merely bring the collage of books to a lone couch and flip open the page of a new book. Little do you know the sheer effect such a mild action would do to the woman you presumed to be dead. Her thumbs grasp the corners of the monitor, caressing the surface as if it were your skin beneath her.

"I found you... I found you...!" Tears seep from her eyes uncontrollably. Finally, this void within her is filled.

Pure laughter, a sound she hasn't expressed in years, bounces from her tongue with glee. It's as if a symphony of angels had invaded Jill's apartment, pervading the lonely silence with euphonious melodies. They sing and cheer for her success, promises of a new beginning filled with light and laughter tumbling from their lips. It appears as any other CCTV footage you'd see, but to Jill, she has never seen anything so breathtaking, so magnificent. Jill rewinds the footage for what may be the umpteenth time, just to ensure this wasn't another dream she'd inevitably wake up from. Fortunately, it is the truth. And she can't refrain the pure joy from escaping her body.

Despite her heart pulling at her strings in an attempt to give in to her desires, Jill knows she must learn more before she can finally get you back. As desperately as she wants to storm the place, guns-a-blazing and all, being messy with her efforts may send her back to square one. Alone, without the one she loves most. The thought itself sends a cold shudder down her spine. She pours herself another cup of coffee. This will be the last one, she guarantees. From thereon, Jill begins her research into this lion's den. Located directly in the middle of the woods, this mysterious habitat began its organization exactly six years ago. Mere months after the incident in Racoon City, to be precise. With a few more hours of digging, the truth practically slaps Jill across the face.

This "sanctuary" is just a facade for Umbrella.

Even after all these years, that damned corporation still has its bloodied claws sunk into every fraction of Jill's life. They had been keeping survivors of their personalized epidemic safe in this establishment, under the guise of 'healing them through these tough times.' In reality, it was to ensure they kept their mouths shut and Umbrella's mistake could be safely swept under the rug. Seething with rage, Jill asks herself: why not me? Why am I the only exception? The last thing she could ever want is to be held captive by Umbrella of all people, but to be locked up with you? That's a different story.

It doesn't take long for Jill to connect the dots. Her occupation gave her that extra layer of protection against Umbrella. So, she remains untouched. However, with your job as a cashier at a gas station, you weren't as fortunate as Jill. Otherwise, you and she would have spent every day of these past six years at each other's side in euphoric harmony. Jill is sure of it.

The sun begins to set after a long, exasperated day of breaking the immeasurable walls Umbrella had built to protect their precious organization. Jill, heavy-eyed and exhausted, has finally concluded the great mystery that is your disappearance. She takes every penny of her rent money and urgently gives it all to Tyrell in exchange for more security footage. When asked about her desperate efforts, Jill makes the excuse that it is the location of a potential crime scene. And in a way, she isn't wrong. It is about to be.

With footage from every camera of the past month (as well as some good spank bank material for later on), Jill has a firm layout of every nook and cranny within the building. She fawns over the videos of you meditating in the garden and reading the hours away in the library. She also tenses up with jealousy over the clips of you laughing with your friends in the cafeteria and bonding over shared experiences in group therapy. It should be her you're doing all these things with. With a pout, Jill then plans her route on retrieving you. Although she has enough anger within her to tear the entire premise asunder, she is humble enough to recognize the extensive security is out of her element. After hours upon hours of trying to find the best way to carry out her plan, Jill accepts defeat.

As much as she wants to, she cannot do this alone. So, she contacts an old friend.

A simple email that reads "I found them" and Carlos Oliveira is at the door of her apartment within hours. His face sheen with sweat, hands trembling at his side, eyes blown wide in crazed worry. God, it's almost like he ran the entire way here. It isn't until Jill sees his face does the all-too-overwhelming revelation settle. It's time to finally get you back.

Deep in the middle of the woods, Jill and Carlos have nothing but the brimming sunset and heavy-duty flashlights to illuminate their path. A maze of trees and tight security kept the establishment well hidden from any wandering eyes. With swift movements from the two military-trained individuals, they were able to pass all barricades with ease. Out of sight from any cameras and wandering security guards, Jill and Carlos soon make it to a single window that has been left slightly ajar. It was your attempt at enjoying the last gusts of seasonal warmth before Winter arrives. A tame smile forms on their faces at the prospect. You'll be able to enjoy every season forevermore with them at your side. Whether it is your skin glowing beneath the warm haze of summer's heat or cozying up with the other during the harsh chills of Winter. They'll make sure everything is perfect. Just for you.

An ear-piercing screech pervades the late October air as Jill pries the window open. They cringe, wait for the other shoe to fall and bring this plan to its fateful end. But, there is nothing. No blaring alarms there to jeopardize their schemes, no wonderful, perfect you there to run into the arms of your surprise guests and drown them in kisses. Nothing. Continuing attentively, the two manage to slip through the window, where they then find themselves in your bathroom.

Jill and Carlos become entranced with the mere sight of your bathroom and the utilities within. Rested by the sink is your toothbrush, sat beside a tube of toothpaste and accompanied by a clutter of skincare products. Jill shakily brings the brush into her hands, fingers hovering over the bristles with belated breath. Your teeth, your tongue, your spit. Your mouth has been on this item and Jill salivates from the idea alone. Before she can quaff out every bit of you she can garner from the toothbrush, she snaps out of her fantasy and shoves the brush into her pocket. For later use, she assures.

Carlos, however, is trapped tight in his own daze. By the shower, a cluster of damp towels had been leisurely swung upon a towel rack. He takes one into his hands, shivering at the idea of this cloth once making contact with your nude body. Squeezing, the water that seeps from the tight contact and down his fingers causes a pool of vehemence to form within him. Lips trembling in response, Carlos then brings the towel to his face. His warm breath wafted back onto his face as he heavily inhaled the scent still lingering upon the fabric. Oh, Y/N, how he worships you. Carlos imagines how your scent would sit in your body while he drags his lips among the skin of your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and then your-

A harsh smack to his arm brings his thoughts to an abrupt, depressing halt. Just when he was about to indulge his tongue in the taste of what was once on your wet body, Jill had to go and ruin his fun.

The dulcet tune of humming diffuses through the area like a soft fragrance. Whatever libido-stained hysteria these lovesick fools had found themselves in faded away as quickly as it came. Jill feels her heart bloom like a spring flower — your voice. One of your most important attributes her deadbeat brain had so frivolously forgotten. It has finally returned to her. And the way you fill the air with such heavenly sounds is something straight out of a fairytale, the two think to themselves. Like a siren, leading the people who love you more than anything to their inevitable demise. And if they're being honest, the sight of you after six years without you may kill them with its sheer force.

In a way, they were correct. Jill takes a step out of the bathroom and into your kitchen, peering around the corner of a wall to find you on a couch. Your back to her, headphones nestled on your head and book held tight in your hands. Nothing could have prepared her for such a heartwarming, yet gut-wrenching sight. Nodding your head to the tunes blasting in your ears, foot tapping in rhythm against the floor. God, how much more beautiful could you get? How much more can you do to Jill and her sanity by simply existing?

With a deep, shaky inhale, Jill continues with the plan at hand. She tiptoes past the threshold of your living room and ventures further into the kitchen. With gentle, yet expeditious movements, she opens every cabinet and searches through for anything of importance. On the very edge by the stove, Jill opens the cabinet door and finds shelves full of jumbled mugs and different tea flavors. Taking a paranoid glance behind her, she finds Carlos peering around the same corner she had stood behind moments before. And the man is just relishing in the pure sight of you. His eyes drooping and coated in a dreamy luster; his mouth hung agape with the corners curling into a weakened smile. She'd say how pathetic he looked if it weren't for the fact she was in his exact state just seconds ago. With a roll of her eyes, Jill returns to her work in your kitchen.

How clueless you are to what is happening just over your shoulder. Who knew that you catching up on some late-afternoon reading could conjure up such staggering emotions within Jill and Carlos? And who knew that the two people you presumed to be dead had crushed up sedatives and hid them in your teabags?

Mere minutes go by as the two reside in your bathroom, waiting for you to unintentionally complete the next part of their plan. The creaking sound of a door opening halts their enthusiastic exploration of your bathroom. A voice, one that certainly does not belong to you, pervades the air of your home. Apparently, you and this stranger have some plans to go stargazing? Jill and Carlos give a confused, knowing look to each other. Who the fuck is this? Jill buries her unkempt fingernails into the palm of her hand. Clenching her fists inevitably causes moon-shaped scars to form. They're mine, they're mine, they're mine. Her nails soon break through the skin, to where blood oozes into her hands. It seeps down her wrists and onto the white tiles beneath her boots. The faint drum of your footsteps prevents her from acknowledging how she has left a trace of her behind.

Through the crack of the door, Jill finds you entering the kitchen with a thick blanket draped upon your shoulders. Like clockwork, you tread to the cabinet at the far end of the room and begin to make yourself a cup of tea. For the second time that day, Jill gives a harsh smack to Carlos' arm to stop him from inhaling your towels like a depraved junkie and pay attention. The two now watch in trepidation and enthrallment as you go about your nightly routine. Sitting at your rickety kitchen table, watching the kettle steam upon the stove, strolling down memory lane. How can you be so perfect in such simplistic ways?

You inadvertently shape your future by placing the tea bag into the messily painted mug made for you by one of the younglings who survived Raccoon City. A fond smile grows at the thought of them while you pour out the boiling water. You have absolutely no clue what is in store for you by doing this. And to the people standing in your bathroom, it is so endearing.

Taking a small sip as you walk back to the table, a sudden wave of fatigue crashes over you. Your vision doubles, overlapping every perceivable object in front of you into a blurry, distorted mess. The mug falls from your weak hands. It shatters against the floor and the sound reverberates like a blaring alarm. You hear muffled voices, a sharp ringing, and your own panicked breathing. What the fuck is going on? Once your vision goes black, you can barely feel how your numb body splats against the ground. Your hyperventilated gasps decelerate into tame breaths when oblivion finally welcomes you.

The only thing you can do is lay here and hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago. You hope so.

There are black holes in your memory. Collapsing in your kitchen to being nestled in the backseat of a car. Trying to piece together this puzzle was nothing short of a pipe dream. When you wake, however, you find yourself enveloped in a strange sense of warmth. The senses in your body awaken from your head and travel down to your toes. Almost as if it was rain cascading down a window; as if it was a teardrop coursing down your cheek. From your waist down, you can feel how your nude body is submerged in warm water. You inhale and are overwhelmed by the stench of body soap that perfumes the humid air. Candle lights flicker in their calm hues and bounce against your closed eyelids.

In an attempt to thrash around and escape whatever has taken you from the safety of the sanctuary, your body fails you in your attempts to move. You are completely and utterly paralyzed, much to your dismay. The only control you can accumulate is nothing but a choked whimper that you push out of your throat. The immediate cooing that purrs into your ear from someone behind you causes your blood to run cold. You then sense how your back is pressed against someone's naked chest. The strands of their choppy short hair stick to your sweaty face. Hot breath fans against you as they press long, gentle kisses to your neck.

A bathtub. That's where you have found yourself in. It is romantic, in a disturbing sense. You could almost be convinced this was nothing more than a fulfilling Valentine's Day. A pair of scrawny arms then tighten themselves around your form with possessive constriction. Their chapped lips trail down to your shoulder; their wet tongue adorns the expanse in an array of affection. The intimacy sends a shudder down your skin. Calloused hands grope your chest and indulge themselves in the feeling of your flesh touching theirs, seemingly drunk off of you. The graze of their jagged teeth against you causes a gasp to escape you. A hum of quiet laughter vibrates in the chest of your assailant in response.

"My butterfly, you have no idea how long I have dreamed about this..." The soft tone of their voice lulls you back to sleep. This is getting old, you think once more before unconsciousness envelops you once again.

Jill simply cannot believe it. At this moment, you are here, alone with her. She couldn't imagine a better fantasy if she tried. And in a way, the effect your mere touch has on her made all six years of suffering worth it. Only now, she can scrutinize you completely and thoroughly. As opposed to the zombie-induced nightmare being the only contact she had with you. And your physicality has haunted Jill. She traces the jut of your cheekbone, the curl of your lashes, the texture of your lips. More importantly, she indulges her greedy taste buds in the taste of your mouth-watering skin, your delicious sweat, and your candy-sweet saliva.

Your flavor — never has Jill known she could be transported to such paradisiacal heaven. And never has Jill known she could ever be so... vulnerable.

Vulnerability has always equated to weakness in the eyes of Jill for as long as she's been alive. Trying to swallow the lump in her throat and constrict the overflow of bottled emotions these past six years are certainly no strangers to her. Raccoon City, however, opened the floodgates to a tsunami of revelations. To bask in emotion, to revel in you. Most importantly, to feel you here with her right at this moment. She can discard the facade of a cold heart and thick skin, to where she can embrace the exhilaration that follows with your presence. There will never be a second where Jill isn't thanking the universe profusely for such a wondrous gift.

As much as she disdains the idea of breaking contact with you, the hour spent in such stifling heat would not be good for you. And the prospect of your deteriorating health causes her to persevere through her selfish desires. This doesn't refrain her from being a little too touchy while drying off your body, though. Jill then dresses your unconscious form in a fresh, newly bought pair of fuzzy pajamas (despite the incessant suggestions from Carlos to please have you wear his clothes). The sensation feels like a cloud against your skin that had just been massaged with warm water, loving hands, and ambrosial lotions. So cozy, so cuddly.

With easy effort, Jill nestles you into bed. The late-night brume and heavy rain complement the tranquility within the room, naturally soothing you into a deeper sleep. She then presses a long, sweet kiss to your forehead, whispering a promise of returning soon.

Her gaze and her hand linger on you before returning to the bathroom. While you are now sleeping, Jill sits on the tiled floor of the bathroom and rests her arms against the rim of the tub. Her fingers cascade among the still-wet walls of the tub, shivering over the prospect of your naked self touching the surface just moments before. She takes her index and middle finger into her mouth, lapping her tongue around the digits and cleaning them of any excess of you still left on them. The other hand is used to caress the parts of the bathtub you had sat in before as if she were touching you. And it is just heavenly. Having you beneath her, her tongue tasting every inch of you, all the sounds you would gift her in return. It practically makes her feral with desire.

Shakily sinking her hands into the lukewarm water, it pools in her hands before escaping through the slits of her fingers. Mouth agape, skin gleaming with sweat — the only thing present in Jill's mind is how your flavor has mended with the bathwater. With rapid movements, she scoops some of the water into her palm and slurps the liquid with fervent haste. Six years of her lust-ridden head overcome with these fantasies, Jill has finally come one step closer to turning this dream into a reality. Her eyes fall shut and she lets the reverie flood her body. Wrapping her lips around your sex and adorning it in a mess of her saliva and your essence; every whimper and moan that escapes your mouth making her slick with arousal. After turning your brain into mush, she would then wrap you in her embrace and soothe you to sleep, still preserving the taste of you on her tongue.

Oh, one day. One day...

Birds singing, rain dancing. Once again, it is the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. The sun has now risen, hidden beneath an array of stormy clouds. Daylight bleeds into the room you have awoken in. A bedroom, as it appears; you are in a bedroom you are oblivious to the location of. With its pristine environment, expensive comforters, healthy plants, and modern decoration scattered around, you can't help but be astonished at how gorgeous it is. A window takes up the entirety of two walls, displaying nothing but miles upon miles of endless forestry. You would assume this was a gorgeous retreat if not for the confusion staining your mind. Have I been kidnapped? The thought bounces back and forth in your brain like a ping-pong ball.

Your original idea of being held captive consists of a dank basement, restraints around your limbs, and a lone mattress on the dirty ground. If you had been kidnapped, it would be nothing as luxurious as this, surely. Had the sanctuary brought you to a new location? Had your friends taken you on some sort of a surprise vacation? What the fuck is going on here!? Trying to venture down memory lane to find out how on Earth you have ended up here, your efforts are unfortunately brought to no avail. All you had done was drink some tea and somehow in the span of twelve hours, it had led you here. The only thing you can do now, however, is find some answers.

Wobbling like a newborn fawn on legs, you try and catch your balance after you attempt to stand. A door stands to the right of you, which you stumble to. Using every fiber of strength in your exhausted body, you try and turn the doorknob. The wall is there to catch you when your body then gives up on you. With a few deep breaths upon collapsing, you fight to regain consciousness and continue to tread forward. You would not let yourself pass out again, you're determined of such.

Upon opening the door, a hallway presents itself to you. The scent of something cooking pervades the air. You only realize you had skipped dinner the previous night when the aroma of natural spices and flavors makes your mouth water. You hear the clanking of pots and pans, as well as the murmur of two strangely-familiar voices. The decorations in the hallway also grasp your attention as you stroll through, tip-toeing past any squeaky floorboards. Numerous other plants sit around the area and picture frames are placed neatly on the walls. The frames are all empty, ready to be filled. It causes a strange chill to course through your body. However, the only thing you should be concerned with right now is receiving some answers. As worrying as it is, the prospect of your kidnapper potentially filling these frames with new pictures of you is irrelevant right now.

Treading forward, you then find yourself on the threshold of the kitchen. And what you find within makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.

You catch sight of no other than Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira. At the breakfast bar is Jill, whose legs are crossed and resting upon the surface of the counter. Carlos stands by the stove, stirring something delicious in the pan before him. The conversation between them is cut short upon your entrance and the three of you all stare at each other like a group of deer in headlights. Silence sits like a thick stew.

You're the first to break through the quiet.

"What the fuck?"

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ RECURRING VISIONS

OF SUCH SWEET DAYS . . . ❞

for anyone wondering, this, this, this, this, and this are what i imagined jill and carlos' house to look like. also, i will delve into characters and whatnot in further chapters. so dw!! and thank u!

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fandomskipping · 1 year ago

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Tw: stepcest, obsessive behavior, stalking, breaking and entering, masturbation, subish!/masochist!Gojo

Stepbro!Gojo who wanted nothing to do with you, but became obsessed with you in just a matter of weeks.

Stepbro!Gojo who saw you at the compulsory weekly family dinners and made a point of ignoring you, only to arrive home later into the evening and stalk you on social media for hours.

It was stupid really, how he, a successful businessman that was well into his 20s, pretended that he's above fraternizing with a mere college student, but then paid a private investigator to follow you around when the feeds on your social media didn't provide enough information anymore.

He told himself that it was for your safety, but he was well aware that he was doing it mostly because he wanted to see if you got yourself a lover.

Stepbro!Gojo who bribed your dorm's admin to give him a copy of your room's key just so he could slip into your private quarters and rummage through your stuff.

Stepbro!Gojo who found the hamper filled with your dirty clothes and quickly dug his lanky arm right in, pulling piles of clothes out and dropping them on the floor at his feet.

He tried lying to himself again, thinking that he did this just so he could get a better grasp of what you usually wore to class (as if he didn't have a binder-worth of pictures his PI took of you these last few weeks). But the moment he saw your panties, he quickly dropped the act and lunged after them, pulling them out of the pile and holding them in front of his face so he could better analyze them.

Nude in color and plain cotton. He frowned and he moved the clothes around with his foot, trying to see if there was anything else. Maybe something a bit cuter? Something with lace and silk, perhaps? He found nothing of that sort. No embellishments, no little gems sewed into the material, no cute colors.

Stepbro!Gojo promised to buy you cuter lingerie once you would be living with him, but for now, the ones he found would do.

He bunched the panties in his hand and shrugged his coat off his muscular shoulders, allowing it to fall on top of your dirty clothes.

Unbuckling his belt, he fell on your bed and stretched his legs. He brought the panties to his face and inhaled deeply, his white lashes fluttering at the intense musky smell.

His cock started filling into his boxers and Gojo quickly shimmied out of his slacks and underwear. With one hand he grabbed his cock, and with a few expert tugs, it was standing fully erect, beads of precum already emerging out of the bulbous tip.

With another whiff, Gojo started working his cock, using his pre as lube.

It was embarrassing what he was doing—jerking off in a college dorm using his stepsister's used panties as wank material—but he couldn't help it.

He wanted to see you—no, he needed to see you. With a shaky hand he dropped the panties on his chest and grabbed his phone, going straight to the gallery he dedicated to you. He scrolled through the pictures while his hand moved faster on his cock—he wouldn't last long, he knew it.

He found a picture he especially liked and propped his phone on one of your pillows, so he could grab the panties again. Feeling around for the stained gusset, Gojo gave it a lick, his eyes crossing at your strong taste.

"Fuck," he whimpered, pulling at his cock furiously. His blue eyes found your picture and he imagined you were actually there, watching him closely, telling him he's a disgusting perverted pig for lusting over his stepsister.

Gojo threw his head back and came at the thought of your insults, his dick trembling in his pale hand as shot after shot of cum hit the white shirt he should have taken off.

His body relaxed and slumped into the bed as he caught his breath.

Stepbro!Gojo promised himself that this would be the first and last time he does this, but who is he kidding? He started coming back to the dorm every Tuesday afternoon, knowing you'd be in class.

And when that's no longer enough, Stepbro!Gojo convinced your mom that it would be so much better, so much safer, if you'd move in with him.

#this was supposed to be short and sweet 😭#gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru smut #tw stalking #tw obsessive behavior #stepbro!gojo #tw stepcest

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treason-and-plot · 3 months ago

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“What?” says Roy. He shakes his head in an effort to wake up his brain, which seems to be suffering from momentary paralysis. He is on the one hand delighted that Michael is in deep shit, but he is also dismayed that Anya is so upset. It hurts his heart to hear her cry. But his dismay is exacerbated by the fact that she had such a strong reaction to the revelation- she’s acting as if her father had been caught having an affair. Which obviously isn’t the case.

“How did your mother find out?” he asks Anya, deciding to reserve sharing any of his personal thoughts about Michael’s indiscretions, at least for the moment. Anya puts the phone down to blow her nose. She takes a few deep breaths. When she speaks again her voice is a little less wobbly.

“The bank rang her about an unusual transaction on their joint credit card and she asked them to email her a statement. Dad looks after all the bills including the payment of their credit card and normally she never gets to see any bills or statements. The unusual transaction just turned out to be my sister borrowing the card to buy §300 worth of Simmora makeup, but Mum went through the rest of the transactions and she noticed that every week there was a charge of §200 billed to a company called-“

“Active Advisory Pty Ltd,” Roy’s brain whispers to itself.

“Active Advisory Pty Ltd,” Anya says. “Which sounds like a financial services company or something, right? Which Mum thought was really bizarre. So she did some investigating and found out it’s actually the company name of the owners of a strip club called The Pink Pony. So Mum confronted Dad about it and he admitted he’s been going there every week for the past year! And spending §200 on private sessions!”

“Well, shit,” says Roy. “That’s…that’s a lot of visits.”

“Mum’s devastated!” says Anya. “I am too! I can’t believe Dad would cheat on Mum like that! It’s just made me question everything I thought was real.”

“Technically, is it really cheating, though?” says Roy.

“How can you say that!” gasps Anya. “Of course it’s cheating!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around everything,” says Roy quickly. “And hey, what about your sister stealing the card to spend §300 on makeup? That’s terrible!”

“Roy, I don’t think you understand. My parents are probably on the verge of divorce over this! My mother hasn’t stopped crying since my Dad confessed and she’s talking about going to stay with her sister in Barnacle Bay! The last thing they’re concerned about is Eva blowing money on make up!”

“Well, maybe they should be at least a little bit concerned,” says Roy. “Just saying. But, ah, okay, obviously the other stuff is a bit more concerning. Particularly the amount of money he’s been spending-“

“The money isn’t the issue here, Roy!” says Anya. “You just don’t seem to be getting it! My Dad has been visiting prostitutes! Sex workers! I can barely think of a worse betrayal! P….poor Mum….”

She starts sobbing again.

#Roy #Anya #back to Bridgeport #5 years later #sims 3 #sims 3 story

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thebisexualdogdad · 8 months ago

Note

With the new rookie season you gotta do more Lucy!!!

Maybe something like Lucy meets a PI who’s working a similar case as her and the two slowly flirt and nerd out on common interests.

Lucy Chen x Male!reader

● as a private investigator you were hired to follow a man who's wife was accusing him of cheating

● lucky for her he wasn't cheating, unluckily for her he became entangled with a gang selling drugs and now he's missing

● which is how you meet officer Lucy Chen

● “Excuse me? What do you think you're doing? This is a crime scene you can't be here,” she questions as you're looking at the faces of a bunch of newly deceased individuals after a drug deal gone wrong trying to ID your clients husband

● “I'm a private investigator, Y/N Y/L/N, I've been hired by Mary Jameson to track down her husband Luke Jameson who is involved with all this”

● “do you see him here?”

● “no but-”

● “then I'm gonna have to ask you to leave”

● you don't actually leave, you just hang around outside the crime scene tape waiting to get any more information on where you're missing guy might be

● “he's still here?” Harper asks Lucy who has been keeping an eye on you for the last several hours

● “yeah he thinks I'm gonna tell him details about the case because he's a PI”

● “PI's are the worst,” Lopez chimes in

● “I thought lawyers were the worst?”

● “they are but I'm not married to a PI,” she laughs, “he says he's looking for a guy who deals for this gang right? Lucy take him to the station and find out everything he knows, he may actually be useful in helping us fill in some missing pieces”

● back at the station Lucy has you in an interrogation room, questioning you about Luke

● you tell her you've been tailing him for three weeks, he went missing two days ago handing over the photos you have of him dealing drugs as well as meeting up with the leader of the gang

● you actually were quite helpful for Lucy

● and even a little bit flirty

● and to your surprise Lucy was flirting back

● you find out you like the same TV shows and music artists

● you spend a little too long talking about the latest season of your favorite show

● but just as you're about to ask her on a date to get to know her more Lopez and Harper interrupt bringing your attention back to the case at hand

● Lucy relays all the information to them and thanks you for the help

● and after you leave Lopez asks her, “were you flirting with the PI?”

● “no of course not that would be unprofessional”

● Lopez and Harper simultaneously “they were flirting”

● you show up at the station again the next morning with coffee and breakfast sandwiches to see if they have any new leads on Luke

● “you brought me coffee?”

● “with almond milk and a shot of espresso”

● “how did you know that's how I drink my coffee?”

● “I'm a private investigator remember, it's my job to know those kind of things”

● you and Lucy end up working together to find out that Luke is being held captive by a rival gang

● the cops raid the warehouse and free him though he is arrested in the process due to your photos of him dealing drugs which his wife is certainly not going to be happy about

● “Guess this is the end of our team up,” Lucy tells you when she returns to the station with another officer towing behind with Luke in handcuffs

● “Seems so but it doesn't mean it has to be the last time we see each other right? Can I take you out to dinner sometime?”

● “yeah, that would be nice”

● “great, I'll get us a reservation at the blue orchid”

● “that's my favorite restaurant how did you- oh right private investigator,” she laughs

#the rookie imagine #lucy chen imagine #lucy chen x reader #x male reader #headcanons

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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Office Space 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re an assistant to private and corporate investigator, Nick Fowler, and find yourself brought into the fold of his shady professional life.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, this reader is known as Elfie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Dinner is spent in a similarly contentious spar of words. You're so over it that you find yourself zoning out in favour of your plate. The steak is good. Better than anything you'd spend money on.

As you chew on a morsel, the server returns and Nick gestures, "another round."

Before you can stop him, though you can't argue with him either way, you're locked into a fourth cocktail. He keeps doing that thought your third is hardly complaining for it. You can't help but wonder if this is going to be an expense report.

You swallow and grab your napkin. You dab your lips and shift. The weight in your bladder settles and you nearly squeak. You lean forward and fold the cloth.

"Er, excuse me, I need... to go to the ladies," you try to make it sound as proper as you can.

"Mm, pardon," Pine is quick to slide off the bench. "As you will."

You shimmy over, biting your lip as your insides knot. As you stand, he looms close, and you swear his hand brushes closes against your pants. You don't flinch as you can only focus on the urgency in your pelvis.

You flee, grateful for more than the relief of your body, but to be free of them for one second. The two men together are the definition of suffocation. You can't keep track if they're having fun or doing battle. Over what, you're uncertain.

You take your time before you return to the table. You see the men huddled over as you approach, voices low. They're strangely amiable after a night of dueling.

Your drink is waiting on the table. This time, Nick stands to let you in. You skirt by and he sidles in after you.

"Well, that was a wonderful meal," Pine intones, "are we keen for dessert?"

As you lean forward to busy yourself with a stir of the slender straw, you feel a tickle on your back, "how about it, Elf? You like sweet stuff?" Nick asks.

You sit back before you can taste the cocktail and crush his hand.

"Huh, oh, now, I'm stuffed." You affirm. He doesn't pull his hand away.

"I am in the mind for it," Jonathan caresses your sleeve and you look at him. "Mm, something warm and soft."

"Hm?" You make a face and Nick pinches a fold in your pants, giving a tug. "Woah, hey."

You catch his hand as Pine's flutters along your neck. You lean away from the latter as you wrestle your boss.

"What the hell are you--"

"We had a civil discussion when you were occupied," Pine explains

"We've come to an arrangement," Nick grins as he bats your hand off of his.

"Um, can you stop?" You latch onto both of their hands, squirming as you try to push them away. "This is not--"

"Ah, come on, Elf, just a little after work fun..." Nick squeezes your knee

"I don't--" you're dizzy with confusion and surprise. What the hell were they talking about when you were gone?

"You've had a bit much to drink, it would be irresponsible for two gentlemen to allow you to go home alone," Pine toys with your fingers, "it isn't safe."

"Woah, stop," you his as you writhe between them, "I'm fine. I haven't-- I'm barely tipsy."

"Is that so, darling?" Pine tuts.

"You know, it isn't very professional to flirt with my professional colleagues," Nick reprimands.

"No, I didn't--" you choke on your words. Maybe you are a little drunk because you can't see straight. "I... it's a business dinner."

"It's a formality," Pine insists.

Heat speckles down your neck and across your shoulders. Pressure constricts your chest and throat as you try to set yourself straight. You can't focus as they keep pawing at you.

“Form-- hey, okay, buddy!” You barely keep your voice from exploding as Nick’s hand slips between your legs.

“Buddy? What happened to sir, Elfie?” He teases.

“What the hell happened to you?” You retort, too addled to think clearly. You know he’s still your boss but he’s not acting like it.

“It’s Saturday, loosen up. You think I don’t know what you do when you go out with the girls?” he grits.

Jonathan’s hand wraps around your neck and Nick fights with your own desperate grip. You struggle to keep him from going higher. You glance over, aware that you could have witnesses to this display of animalism.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” Jonathan purrs.

“How about--” You clasp onto his wrist, “we don’t? I should go home.”

“Darling, you’ve been flirting all night and now you want to spoil the fun?” The blond chides.

“No. Not flirting, I--”

“Come on, Elf. Don’t you wanna have some fun? All those dull office days? Sitting there, in those pants, bending over...”

“Jesus,” you hiss and wriggle between them, “what’s-- what’s-- this can’t be real.”

“Oh, this is very real, darling,” Pine hums into your hair.

He runs his other hand down your arm and guides your hand back. He places your palm against his lap and you squeak. Nick chuckles and frees himself from your clutches. He pushes his fingers against the front of your pants and winks.

“Elf, you’re a good girl.” He pushes until you whine, “you always do what you’re told... and you’ll do just that tonight.”

#nick fowler #jonathan pine #dark nick fowler #dark jonathan pine #dark!nick fowler #dark!jonathan pine #nick fowler x reader #jonathan pine x reader #series #drabble #au #office space #bad bosses #the night manager #the 355

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rainy-astrology · 1 year ago

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BTS Jungkook Birth chart analysis

Based on my opinions and observations. Not an expert. May change later.

September 1st, 1997

Busan, South Korea

3:25 PM

☀️♍️, 🌙♍️, ⬆️♑️

Sun, Moon, and Mercury are in Virgo, giving him a Virgo stellium. He is detail oriented, helpful and reliable, and incredibly hard working, not a slacker at all. The downsides are that he's likely very critical on himself and others (but more likely on himself; Virgos are just...a little too self aware lol), perfectionistic, nitpicky, and can be an overthinker. E.g the time he was crying about a small mistake he made on stage that the other members hadn't seen at all. They all sit in the 8th house as well and form conjunctions to each other (sun conjunct moon and mercury, moon conjunct mercury)

Virgo Sun in 8th is very private and maybe even shy. Jungkook's not really an extrovert tbh, he has a small circle and is often seen hanging out with the same few friends. This placement is quite picky with who they choose to let into their life - they have to be extremely sure they can trust you to completely let you in their inner world.

Moon in 8th is an intense placement. Very strong feelings here. Having a Virgo moon though should help calm the intensity a little or at least help him navigate his feelings in a more structured way. Virgo moons tends to analyze and rationalize their thoughts and feelings. This could explain why Jungkook's never been the type to openly show his deeper feelings. This house can be transactional and Virgo is a sign of service, so he may find security in helping/servicing others. And people like to reciprocate the helpful energy for him too.

Mercury in 8th is a deeply curious and investigative placement. Virgo mercury is especially detailed - nothing gets past Jungkook. It's known he lurked around in fandom space on tiktok and twitter, so he most likely knows all the jokes and other things the fans talk about. This placement wants to understand things deeply.

Neptune, Uranus, and Jupiter are in 1st house. Neptune (illusions) and Uranus (unpredictable and constant change) can make a person chameleon-like in terms of appearance and Jungkook is versatile in fashion. It could explain why it was a bit confusing to guess his rising sign.

Jupiter in 1st - puts in a lot of effort into everything he does, may sometimes overdo things. Tries to be optimistic and upbeat, wants to enjoy life to the fullest.

Libra Venus is domicile and in 9th. Curious and knowledge seeking, especially curious about new cultures and places

Mars Scorpio in the 10th is very passionate and ambitious. Very determined to succeed in his career and reach all the goals he sets for himself. His motto "I would rather die than live without passion" is a perfect example of this placement.

Saturn in 3rd - some sort of challenge with communication. This placement can be very shy and maybe even a bit self conscious, socially anxious. Jungkook was incredibly shy when he was younger - iirc he would even cry when asked to sing and used to be so shy around the members predebut in general.

Pluto in 11th - a strange tense relationship with the idea of friendship. He didn't have much close friends when he was young and going to a whole new city made him even lonelier. However meeting BTS gave him friendship, which helped his loneliness a lot. They even helped him get over his shyness and support him with anything he does. He cares very deeply about them, even crying when they were talking about the struggles they were going through. He considers them his family, which makes sense since he was basically raised by them. He himself is quite influential as well (a given as he's a huge celebrity though) and can pretty much make anything he likes and anywhere goes become very popular.

Chiron in 10th - worried about how his image and reputation is perceived by others. Considering how incredibly shy Jungkook was when he was younger, it's not surprising he may have had a lot of self doubt about his journey to being an idol (along with the very self critical Virgo stellium. Chiron in 10th + Virgo stellium is careful and perfectionistic in order to have a good image). There may be issues of self esteem and power (mainly with authority and/or with himself) within his life.

With North Node in 8th though, it pushes Jungkook to be more open to create relations with others. He doesn't have to do everything alone - he should learn to rely on others and be comfortable being more open, both mentally and emotionally.

Capricorn rising is a little surprising ngl...However, I think it explains his physical features well. His eyes (I've noticed many Cap placements have big eyes), his face structure, and especially his hair. Capricorn rising hair is always very noticeable considering Capricorns rule hair. And like most earth risings, he can be down to earth and reserved - he keeps to himself a lot. Definitely very hard working like a Capricorn, ambitious and strives for success.

His Libra MC could be why many people thought he was a Libra rising. It is at 29°, a Leo degree, so that could also explain why people thought he could have been a Leo rising too. Libra mc is artsy and creative, which shows in his art skills in drawing, photography, and editing. Obviously his singing and dancing as well. It's apparent in his fashion too: experimenting with his hair styles, his sleeve tattoo, his piercings, and darker yet neat clothing style.

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Other analysis:

MBTI | Enneagram

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Kpop astrology list

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#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts astrology #astrology #birth chart #birth chart analysis #kpop #kpop astrology #kpop birth chart analysis #bangtan boys #bangtan #virgo sun #virgo moon #virgo stellium #8th house stellium #capricorn rising #libra midheaven

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l0ngschl0ngking · 2 years ago

Text

Apology won’t cut it

Tim Rockford x f!reader

summary: Tim forgot about your anniversary…how can he make things right?

warnings: SMUT (oral -f!receiving, vaginal fingering, somnophilia -with estabilished consent, reader and Tim talked about it before-, unprotected p in v, reader “hangs” onto those shoulder holsters while Tim fucks her, creampie,(1) spitting on pussy, praise kink, biting), talks of infidelity, cursing, mentions of food, mentions of reader being pregnant, fluff -it’s me…so :)

word count: 4.3K (how that happened? - i don’t know either)

A/N: Tim is hot and I have things for detectives/agents with shoulder holsters (*cough, cough* Seeley Booth)

You met Tim a few years back through your friend. Normal Sunday brunch turned into you confiding to her – telling her that you worry that your husband might be cheating. The past few months he was spending more and more time in his office – the fact that you saw his new personal assistant a few months back who was much younger and prettier than you didn't help.

Susan, your friend, tried to soothe your worries but when you started being a babbling and a sobbing mess – you've spend most of your life with your husband and the thought of him cheating on you cut your heart deeper than you thought it would – she sighed and withdrawn something from her purse. A small plain business card layed between her neat fingers.

She passed it to you with a few tissues as well and when you finally wiped all of your tears away, you looked at what was written on it – both of your eyebrows raising in a question.

“It's a private investigator. I hired him when I had a suspicion that Richard might be cheating on me as well. Turned out he was just working extra shifts so he could buy me an engagement ring.” She grinned at the memory and you looked at her finger – the diamond ring he bought her shining in the daylight sun. You offered her a little smile – happy for her. Richard was a nice guy – sweet and genuine and you didn't know how she could think he was cheating on her – he kissed the ground she walked on. “But really, he is great, sweetie. A little pricey but he does his job well. It doesn't hurt that he is easy on the eyes too.” She winked while you bit your lip in contemplation.

A few days pass since your Sunday brunch and you think about calling the number numerous times – then telling yourself that you shouldn't doubt your husband's loyalty. Though when he left this morning without even kissing you on the head as he normally would – not even sparing you a little glance, you were more certain than ever – you were going to find out what was going on once and for all. Even if it should break your heart.

When the other voice on the other line says “hello?” you get nervous. You are really doing this.

“Hello, uhm – I, ugh- I’d received your business card from a friend and would like to hire your services. Are you busy or-?” Smooth. Real smooth.

“No, not really,” he chuckles - the cigar he was smoking dangling from his lips, “would you like to meet at yours or at my office?” His voice was a little gruff but very soothing at the same time. You try to imagine what he looks like – didn't sound like a young man, maybe someone close to your age range – not that you were old or something.

You quickly scribbled the address where he worked as you found it more appropriate that you rather meet him at his office than if he should invade your own home.

When you arrive at the address he gave you, you found yourself in front of a small brick building – the doors are pretty mahogany color but creaky and when you enter it looks bigger than on the outside. Various small offices with different names on glass windowed doors surround you and you look for his business card in your purse – forgetting his name.

Tim Rockford – it says on the card and you squint your eyes when you see doors with the same name on it far back. You stride with confident steps towards it even when you are not feeling that way at all. You knock – one time, two times and the third time a small gruff “come in” can be heard from the other side of the door.

When you step in the first thing that hits you is the cigar smoke and you cough a little – you hate smoking. Then you finally see the man in question. He looks a little older - the bags under his eyes make him seem that. He quickly stands up from his leather chair that creaks and offers you a small smile which you uncertainly return. He is handsome in a ruggish way. His hair is short and has a few silver strands mixed in there as well, and his beard is patchy – that is something very endearing about the fact. His shoulders are broad and you think he should buy a bigger shirt as this one is straining against his frame – not that you mind that much.

He quickly puts out the cigar when he sees your nose wrinkling at the smell – observant as well. Not bad. He reaches his hand out to you and you take it – his grip is strong but not in an unpleasant way and his palms are a little sweaty. He clears his throat and offers you his name which you do the same in return. He sits down and gestures to the older-looking armchair sitting opposite him. It's comfier than it looks.

“So, what brings you here, m’am?” You scrunch your nose for a second – not feeling that old but don't say a thing about it. Right, let's cut right to the chase.

“I-I think my husband might be cheating on me and I'd like for you to find out if that's true.” He doesn't look at you weirdly or anything – as you thought he would. He just nods his head and asks your husband's name which you provide.

“That's all I really need. I will find out all of the other information myself and will call you if I will find some clues. Sounds good to you, m’am?” You nod and give him your phone number – the phone you called him from being the house landline.

A few weeks pass, Tim calls you often or you go to his office – recently you started inviting him to your house as you started feeling more comfortable around him – all of the clues hint that your husband is really cheating on you and he tries to make you feel better about it – cracking jokes here and there and you appreciate it even though it doesn't seem all that professional.

Today he brings a folder with him. The yellow one you often see in some kind of crime film that holds photos of the victim – and when he enters he throws you a sad smile. You know what it means but you try to not think about it. You offer him tea and he hastily accepts – he knows that you already know. In the past few weeks, he got to know you and he noticed that you try to occupy yourself with other things when you are nervous.

He sits on your leather couch – you bought it last week – and he watches you make the tea in your smaller kitchen. When you sit down next to him you put the cups of tea on the glass table. He passes you the folder and when you open it a few tears flow freely from your eyes. You were expecting it. You really were but it still hurts. You feel sick as you throw the folder next to the cups – not really in the mood to look at the pictures of your husband sticking his tongue into someone else's throat. Tim lands his hand on your shoulder – trying to comfort you. That's when you throw yourself at him, hugging him close to you and he doesn't reciprocate the hug for a while – it's not professional at all and he shouldn't but when you sob into his work shirt his heart breaks and pulls you closer to him. Slowly stroking your back and kissing the top of your head gently.

You stay like that for a while – him rocking you while stroking your back and telling you “what an idiot your husband is for treating you so poorly” as you try to compose yourself. And when you do- you pull away a little – looking into his eyes, maping out his face with your eyes. He's handsome – you noticed the first time you've seen him but after each time you've spent together you started appreciating his ruggish handsomeness more and more. You'd never admit it but you've touched yourself at the thought of him a few times – feeling guilty afterward not knowing if your husband was cheating on you. You felt like you were the one cheating after every time you got yourself off at the thought of Tim between your thighs.

“Kiss me.” You whisper as you look at him and he shakes his head – feeling like he would take advantage if he did.

“No, you're in a bad mental state right now and you don't know what you are saying, sweetie.” The nickname of endearment falling from his lips is first and you shake your head in protest – pulling yourself on top of his lap and he doesn't have the strength to stop you as this is something he wanted for a long time too – you were not only a client to him. Not for a long time, anyways. You were smart and funny, and beautiful and he liked you a lot. Even if he really shouldn't feel this way.

“I wanted this for a long time, Tim. Please, just kiss me, will you?” You don't have to tell him thrice, he surges forward to meet your wanting lips and grabs your hips and you start grinding down on him. You moan when you feel him harden under you and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours – it's frantic and passionate and you feel him everywhere at once. His hands are pulling your tank top off and he cups your tits when they come into the view – pulling away from the kiss. He starts kissing your cleavage, his hands trying to quickly unclasps the bra if that piece of clothing offended him and you on the other hand try to unbutton his shirt. Getting impatient you huff and he notices – he always does with everything. He slows the pace down and unbuttons the shirt himself while getting distracted multiple times – you're kissing his neck and he moans when he feels you nip at the sensitive skin behind his ear.

When the shirt is finally off you immediately start paying attention to the newfound flesh – kissing and licking a path across his shoulders that you oh, love some much and dragging your tongue lower – circling his nipple with it. He groans and throws his head back – the vein on his neck popping with the movement and you bite him there, soothing it with your tongue. He grinds against your mound and if you keep going he will for sure cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. He pushes against your shoulders softly and you start to protest but he shuts you up with his mouth once again. It's slower and more sensual – his tongue fighting with yours lazily and unhurriedly. He finally unclasps your bra – his greedy eyes taking you in. Palming them in his hands it's your turn to moan and he grins – his thumbs stroking the sensitive nipples. He brings his head to take one into his mouth and you can't do anything else than writhe on him – your hands are in his hair and you massage his scalp. He groans against your bud while the other hand strokes your other tit and you feel like you've gone to heaven and back. You didn't feel this good since – well actually never.

When he is happy with his work – the bitemarks on your tits will leave nasty bruises for a few days for sure – he slowly puts you on the leather couch. You are sweaty and it sticks to your skin but you don't care – not when Tim is trying to get rid of your shorts. You don't wear anything underneath and you swear you can see his eyes goes entirely black – his pupils blown wide and his breathing quick. He lowers himself onto his tummy and you are confused for a second before you realize what he is doing. You try to protest that he doesn't have to but he just “shhh” you. His mouth is on your inner thighs in no time and his beard causes a delicious burn on them. He is slow with it – trying to enjoy every second of it but you are impatient. You tug on his hair and growl – slapping one side of your inner thigh mumbling a quiet “impatient girl” before he licks into you without a warning.

You cry out – your head thrown back and your back arched, the hands that are in his hair grip him tighter and he moans into your cunt with an unspoken agreement for you to keep doing that. Not many men went down on you – certainly not your husband – but Tim looks like he is enjoying this more than you if it is possible. His nose bumps into your clit with every lick – you feel yourself squeezing around his tongue. One of his hands makes its way to your open mouth and he sticks two fingers into it – coating them in your saliva. Pulling them back out he creates a path with them from your mouth to your neck, then under your neck, on your tits, down your tummy and then pressing two of them against your pussy – exchanging his tongue with his fingers while he sucks your clit into his mouth and it doesn't take long before you are cuming, after all, it has been too long since anyone made it seem like their life goal was to make you cum – the moans and cries of his name echoe throughout the living room with the wet sounds of your pussy squeezing his fingers while he fucks you through the aftershocks of it all.

When he finally stops – you have to push his mouth away from you feeling overstimulated – he just grins against you and sits up – balancing himself on his heels while he cleans his fingers humming at your tangy taste on them. You are exhausted and your lashes flutter against your cheeks but you can hear the clang of his belt and his words echoing in your ears: “ We're not done in the slightest, baby.”

You try to wait for him. You do. But your eyes feel heavy – you already ate the dinner you made for the two of you – Tims's favorite meal – lasagna. You put the rest of it along with the portion into the fridge – scribbling a quick note that if he feels hungry the leftovers are in the fridge. You look at the time: 23:03. And that's when your phone dings.

Hi, baby. Don't wait for me, I am still at the office working on that crazy grandma case . Love you, xoxo

You sigh in defeat. No apology, no nothing. You expected it, to be completely honest. He was so wrapped up in this new case he sometimes forgot what his name was. But you felt that he was married to work and not to you – not that you two were married but you get the drill. You understood it, he worked hard for the position he now has and you too are a workaholic yourself – the money you won at the court after the divorce was put into opening your little bakery. But to forget about your 5-year-old anniversary? That seemed over the top. You don’t bother answering him – putting your phone away you put the dirty dishes in the sink – you will wash them tomorrow morning. Keeping his favorite wine on the table in case he will want it when he comes home, you grab the little envelope.

“Seems like it's just me and you again, little bean.” You smile sadly while you caress your stomach – Tim didn't know yet but you hoped you would tell him tonight. Guess not.

As you make your way into the bedroom you lock the door and turn off all the lights. Brushing your teeth and hoping in the shower for a quick wash you think about if you should have kept the envelope on the table – no, you will tell him tomorrow after you won't be mad at him anymore. After drying yourself you tuck yourself in and put the envelope into the drawer on your bedside table. Sleep consumes you quickly – you've felt exhausted for the past couple of days.

Tim comes home long past after midnight. He's exhausted and he just wants to plop on the bed next to you. He puts the keys onto the kitchen counter and wonders in the kitchen – the kitchen lits up when he puts on the flashlight in his camera – you like to sleep with the bedroom doors open and usually wake up if he turns on the lights. He furrows his brows when he sees the wine on the table – the single rose in a small vase in the center of it. He stalks towards it and sees that it's his favorite. And then he sees the dirty dishes and the small note on the fridge – dread takes over him when he sees the date on the calendar and he lowly curses at himself.

He forgot your fucking anniversary. What a fucking moron he is. He ventures into the bedroom to see if you are already asleep – if not he will apologize profusely even when he knows apology won't cut it this time. When he sees you fast asleep he sighs and slowly creeps into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The weight of what had done – or more so what he didn't – creeps on him and he decides that he will cook you breakfast tomorrow and take you out somewhere nice – maybe even finally do the thing he'd been dreading to do for over a half a year now. When he is finished brushing his teeth he returns to the bedroom to put his guns away. You are sleeping peacefully even when he turns on the light on his bedside table.

You look so pretty in the dim light. Your hair is sprawled on your pillow and it's too warm in here for you to be covered – he can see your legs and the curve of your ass. He licks his lips and he is not so tired anymore. An idea pops into his head – you've talked about it before but never really tried it – maybe it would be one of the many steps of his apology.

He rolls up his sleeves and slowly makes his way onto your side of the bed. You are a pretty light sleeper and he thinks if you will wake up right in the start or if he can indulge a little. He kicks the covers that surround you and touches your ankle – the touch is light and gentle. His fingers slowly make their way up your thigh stopping on your hip and you jerk a little - you turn onto your back the flimsy tank top you changed into riding higher. Tim grins, slowly sinking onto the mattress. He kisses one of your knees and then the other. Slowly making his way up – he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and slowly tugs – seeing that you have nothing underneath. He always loved that about you. He caresses your thighs and kisses the inner side of both of them – trying if you will wake up he pokes his tongue out but you just mumble something so he keeps up his advances. Creating a path to your core he softly inhales and opens your folds with his thumbs as kisses your clit – you jerk a little but he hooks his palms under your hips to keep you still. His nose bumps against your clit with the first swipe of his tongue and he groans at your taste that he knows oh, so well. His tongue lazily licks into you and he is in no rush – enjoying the slow pace he slowly grinds his pants-clad hips against the mattress. It's not enough but he doesn't mind. Sneaking one of his hands away from underneath your hips he pushes one of his fingers in – you are soaked even though he barely touched you and he loves the fact that you are always so ready for him. You mewl softly and start to stir but he stops when your breathing gets even again he pushes two fingers inside of you.

The only sounds that can be heard are his harsh takes of breath and the wet suck of your pussy taking his fingers in – his mouth is now more relentless and so are his hips as he humps the mattress. His fingers curl and he tries to find the spot that makes you make such a pretty noise for him and when your breath hitches he knows he found it. He kisses your clit and starts setting a quicker phase. The tip of his tongue now flicks against your clit quickly. He can feel you start squeezing him and he moans when he feels your hands tug on his hair – the quiet “Tim” from your lips effortlessly. He mumbles a quick “good morning” even though it's not even 3 am yet.

You are right on the edge and when he adds a third finger it's all over for you. Your back arches and you cry out – his plush lips kiss your clit to work you through it and when he finally stops he pushes his cock out of his pants – stroking his dick with the hand that was in you just a few seconds ago. You are still sleepy and try to get a sense of what is happening but before you can think about it Tim is kissing you and notching the weeping head of his cock against your entrance.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Can I fuck you silly?” You nod and he enters you with one quick swift of his hips – you can feel his balls against your ass and he tries to push even deeper. It's too much for your sleep-tired brain and you need to hold onto something – so you grab his shoulder holsters – they are cold and feel smooth against your palms and when you look up at Tim he snarls. “Yeah, hold onto me, baby.” And then he is pounding into you. The head of him pushes against your g-spot and he angles his hips just right. You can feel every ridge and vein of him and you feel him pulse in you – knowing that he won't last long. He grabs one of your ankles and puts it on his shoulder – you always said to him that shoulders like that were made for leg rest. With this new angle, he feels even deeper and you close your eyes – it feels so fucking good, his pubic hair is scraping against your clit and the gentles with hich he kisses your ankle while mumbling how “good of a girl you are for him” makes your heart ache with love for him.

He can feel you starting to squeeze around him and he bends so he can spit onto your pussy – it makes you cry out when you feel the wet press of his fingers on your clit. His are relentless and the sweat rolling off his forehead is making its way down his neck – his vein on it is popped and you'd like to bite it. The slap of his balls is lewd and the way he says your name – ordering you to be “good girl and cum for me” is making your head dizzy. It just two or so more thrusts before you are clamping down on his length and he moans – grabbing him by the neck you kiss him and start sucking on his neck – right under the himge of his jaw– and then he is cuming too – his forehead pressed up against yours. His hips try to push the cum deep inside of you and when he stops he falls next to your side, bringing you closer to him and caressing your spine.

“You think it worked this time?” You are still hazy from the orgasm, listening to his heartbeat slowing down and you just hum in question so he repeats it for you – you don't think about it too much and reach for your nightstand drawer putting the envelope you hid there into his hands.

He opens it reluctantly and when he sees what's in there he can't contain his smiles and the few happy tears that spring out of his eyes.

“You serious? We're going to have a baby?” He laughs with joy and you caress his cheek – kissing the patch on his beard and then soothing it with your thumb

“Serious as I can be, babe. We're going to be parents.” you grin and he kisses you – smiling into the kiss and he thinks about the box in his suit jacket that has a small and elegant diamond ring in it.

He will propose to you tomorrow, take you out on a picnic or something. Yeah, he will do that.

#pedro pascal ff #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford smut #tim rockford merge mansion #merge mansion

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