#pod x you

[shotmrmiller]

god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅤㅤsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.

so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.

he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.

then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.

and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.

a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.

simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.

he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.

you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.

until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-

a date is a date, isn't it?

you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)

hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.

(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)

[klausmikaelsonsmommy]

ISHSKSNMKHA ahhh he's so prettyyyy

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warning: mentions of death, murder, Ramsay Bolton (ew)

a/n: this is probably my favourite headcanon list I’ve ever made … 

ᴹ���ˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Keep reading

[thethoriumreactor]

Pretend I’m not here after a sudden burst of motivation when I’m supposed to be studying

Any TMA fans around here while we wait for tmagp s2 hi I did a thing

Little extra sketches (don’t pay attention to the gap between the time stamps or the way I gave up halfway through luci’s page):

Charlie looks radioactive wtf

[hoodzgyal]

ur so right abt jason being hard to date like canon jason and fanon jason r so different that its crazy

i don’t wanna fix him tho he’s perfect the way he is😍 (i’m delusional)

you get me😻😻 i’m also mad delulu

like the best you’re getting out of him, at least realistically speaking, is a on and off situationship where he runs away at the slightest chance of having to be vulnerable with you. literally just playing house with him until you freak him out by talking about your feelings or asking about his feelings, or looking a little too hard at his scars, or hitting any one of his many triggers, etc.

it’s incredibly one sided because your so forthcoming with your feelings and he’s just…. a brick wall kinda. idk i think it’d take literal therapy to make him emotionally available enough for a real relationship.

i….idc tho i need that #comeheresexy

[itstatennant]

david & catherine on shakespeare live 2016 <3

[peapodsinspace]

Usopp offers you [bouquet of flowers]

Do you accept?

[yes] [no]

[littleforeignaffairs]

Can we talk about how absolutely crushed Yak was in episode 7.

Not because he couldn't find Dee. Not because he found him with Ter.. oh no no

But when Dee protected Ter. Dee stood there and listened to Ter antagonize Yak; of course Yak is going to react.

After Yak punched Ter, and Dee's response was to scold Yak and comfort Ter.

You can see the slightest expression change.

Even though it was so slight. It left a huge impact.

You can see, even Kao was shocked (confused? Who knows) by Dee.

[starfruitsomething]

the fact that they are literally in the definition of queerbaiting-

[infizero]

OH YEAH I SCREAMED WHEN I NOTICED THIS, in this pic of the moment shadow first woke up, HE ISN'T WEARING GLOVES!!!!!!!!

OFFICIAL IMAGE OF A SONIC CHARACTER WITHOUT THEIR GLOVES IN 2024, WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK!!!!!!!!!!

[magpiepills]

Sagittarius

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Ezra x f reader

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: you and Ezra in your pod.

Warnings: SMUT! PIV, helmet riding, slight bondage? Idk what else.

A word from the author: has anyone done riding Ezra’s helmet yet? No matter. Here’s mine. With gratitude to the mutuals and the magic sluts.

Your meeting was an improbability on a largely deserted moon. He had talked so sweet, so flattering, so genteel. Like chloroform on a pretty handkerchief. Lorenzo fell for it, too. Lorenzo always was a sucker.

Ezra says he’s sorry.

Sorry he tried to rob you. Sorry he shot your husband dead. Even if Lorenzo did shoot first, you had really wanted to be the one to dispatch the conniving bastard, and he took that from you. The way he squirmed and huffed now, well, that’s his own doing.

If robbery and murder weren’t great enough offenses, he’d had the gall to track you all the way back to your rented pod and barge right in. He couldn’t just get away with that.

You’d heard him. He rattled the door, forced it open, metal creaking and groaning against rusted metal followed by heavy boots thudding against the corrugated metal floor. You’d already stripped down to your tank top and underwear, a futile attempt at staving off the humid heat of Bakhroma Green. There was no time to get dressed now. You held your thrower in both hands, finger itching at the trigger and your back against the brittle plastic of the pod walls. Fool as he was, he came in head first. When the butt of your Frontiersman didn’t quite connect with the required force, Ezra wheeled around and snatched your weapon away, flinging it clear across the pod.

Incensed, you charged at him. Grabbing him, wrenching his arm back and pulling until he hollered and fell forward. You let his weight drop onto the floor, he groaned and bared his teeth, writhing pathetically at your feet. Good. Serves him right. You watched him for a moment, hands on your hips and head cocked. There wasn’t time to consider the next step in dealing with your intruder. He was on the floor and you had the upper hand. You couldn’t let him get up, that was certain.

No sooner was your mind made than you threw yourself on him, doing your best to pin him down and get him into a headlock or something to incapacitate him long enough for you to toss him back out of the ship and leave him to die. Ezra grunted and panted, bucking and rolling, trying his best to throw you off of his back. You held your own as long as you could, but he was furious and strong. In a flash he grabbed your hair and flipped you both, knocking the wind from your lungs. The ensuing melee saw you tumbling and flailing about the pod, each of you trying hard to get the other to stay still. Panting, sweating, grunting, swearing. You aren’t sure how you end up on his back, holding him with his arms bent. Thankfully, he had no energy left to fight, because neither did you. You needed to tie him up.

It wasn’t ideal. None of this was, really. It was a shit show from the start and you’ve just had to accept that and somehow get through it. You did the only thing you could do under the circumstances and you tied him up with your panties. The fabric was probably cutting off his circulation and the knot may not hold long, but it was good enough. You did your best to put out of your mind the fact that you’re naked from the waist down now. It didn’t matter if he saw, you told yourself. As quickly as possible you were going to be shoving him out the hatch and leaving him far behind.

You flipped your captive onto his back, muzzle of your recovered thrower shoved into his chest. With your adversary bound, you relaxed for a moment, catching your breath before you had to haul him out.

You traced your fingertips over his visor. The glass is thick. Scratched and pitted and heavy over his head. Behind it he’s sweating. Small beads on his forehead, nose and cheeks that gathered together and slid down to his hair. It was your first good look at him. He was pretty. What a waste. With his big, round eyes, shiny, pitch-colored things; with his nose, soft aquiline curve, and lips, pouting open now, as he looked pitifully back at you.

He kept those clever eyes trained on yours as you shuffled up closer, knees on either side of his helmet. You rapped gently on the glass, smiling sweetly down at him. You ran your hands over the cool surface, but still he watched you. You lifted the hem of your sweatshirt, and brought it up, up, up over your bare tits, and tossed it aside. You watched with amusement, tilting your head sympathetically to the side as you squeezed and lifted your tits, letting them fall again before gently pinching your nipples. “Mmmm. Feels so good, Ezra. Touch me, please. I know you can make it even better.” You whined, teasing him. He closed his eyes, brows furrowed, muttering something you couldn’t hear under his helmet. “Oh, I forgot. You’re tied up. Well, I guess if you can’t take care of me I’ll have to just do it myself.” You sighed dramatically and rolled your hips, “I think there’s still a way you can help though. You do want to be good, don’t you, Ezra? You want to keep me happy, isn’t that right?” He wet his lips with his tongue and nodded shallowly, eyelids looking heavier. You circled your nipples with your fingertips, teasing them into firm points, caressing down your stomach and your thighs.

He squirmed below you and whined when you jutted your hips forward, pressing your bare pussy against the glass. Ezra stared, frozen as you repositioned, settling right over his line of sight so he could see exactly what you were about to do.

At first your movements were small and deliberate. Your puffy lips pressed lewdly, not quite wet enough, but enjoying the hard, smooth convex of the helmet between your thighs. You watched Ezra. He was entranced, focused intently on your cunt and the reality of how close you were, and the impossibility of his desires. He wanted to flatten and spread those lips with his lips and tongue and nose and chin. He would have had you thoroughly soaked by now if it was up to him, but you took your time.

One hand abandoned his helmet and came back up to pluck and twist at your nipples. You closed your eyes and thought of Ezra behaving himself well enough to deserve having his cock sucked. It was big, you could see that through his suit. It was immediately evident that all of that grappling had stirred something in him. His environmental suit was snug over his straining erection. The thick bulge curved up and across his hip, accentuated by the straps banded around his upper thighs. It was impressive in thickness and length. Shame that a nice cock is wasted on a bastard like him. You wondered if he was cut or if there’d be foreskin to slip back with your lips. You wondered if he would want to come in your mouth, or if he wanted to paint your face and chest with his spend. You thought of how it would taste. You thought of how good it feels to make a strong man so weak.

“Why can’t you be good?” You complained, breathy and unintentional. You didn’t even register that you’d spoken it aloud until another voice, deep and craggy spoke up. “I can be good. Let me.”

It was the first thing he had spoken that hadn’t been a shouted demand, or a threat. It aggravated you. “Shut up.” You snapped at him, he hitched his hips in protest, teeth bared as he watched your arousal slowly seep onto the glass, aiding your gliding movements. It made his mouth water.

Back and forth, a salacious drag right before his eyes, he watched you use his helmet for your pleasure. The delicate inner folds, the swollen bud of your clit, the tender flesh of your lips. Every quickening movement was like a wet, messy kiss, smearing your slick across the smooth plane. He licked his lips and imagined how he would drink you down. He thought of sucking your clit between his lips to feel it twitch.

He didn’t realize how destroyed he looked. Wet and pathetic and mewling. He couldn’t even feel the way your panties bite into his wrists anymore. He didn’t care. He wanted you to have him like this if you wanted.

You hitched closer and closer to your apex with every grind of your hips. The power alone was a potent aphrodisiac, having Ezra, big as he was, under your thumb made you so very wet. He was your plaything, now. Maybe you’d keep him. Use him how you wanted. You could come on his helmet, his thigh, his cock if you wanted to. He wouldn’t fight. Not with the way he looked now. His eyes were inky black and shining, his warm breath fogged the glass above his parted lips. You rode his helmet unashamedly, caring only for your own demented pleasure.

Your orgasm felt like a slow motion electric shock. His face was obscured by the wet mess you’d made. It bubbled and dripped obscenely.

Your panting breath matched the rise and fall of his chest below you. Slowly you began the return to reason, to the reality of your situation. Reality is changeable, though and yours took a turn before your eyes even adjusted from the post-orgasmic haze.

You were on your back in a flash. Ezra was caging you in and smiling bodefully down at you, triumphant. Your face was still flushed from your orgasm, but your joy quickly soured. Your panties lay in tatters beside your head.

“Have you had your fun now?” He mocked. Your release still clung to his helmet and you licked a defiant stripe through it, never dropping his dark gaze. Ezra chuckled and held both your wrists in one hand while he flung off his helmet and tore at the closures of his suit.

“What was your plan? You use me and then what? Leave me high and dry?” He shook his head, feigning disappointment in your carelessness, all the while fighting his way out of the dirty canvas suit, pulling at buttons and straps until one arm was free and his thin, sweat-damp undershirt clung to his broad chest.

You didn’t notice when you’d stopped struggling in his grip, but Ezra certainly did. He clocked the trail your eyes made from his lips to his neck, to his shoulders and down his torso to where the elastic band of his boxers peeked out. He loosened his grip, shook his other arm from its sleeve, and puffed out his chest. His suit sagged down his narrow hips, as he reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion. What a sight he was. Muscular but soft, rough but tender. The thick swell of his now turgid member pulled at his boxers.

He palmed over it, emphasizing the length with the slow drag of his hand.

He licked his lips. “Go on.” He challenged. “Tell me to be good again.”

The air inside the pod had become thick and heavy, your skin was warm and your joints all felt too loose. The snarl you had intended came out as a ragged plea of his name.

Ezra was gentler than you’d expected. He let go of your wrists with a pointed look meant to keep you from doing anything rash, and began to explore your body. He squeezed your hips, kneading the yielding flesh, then sliding his hands up your sides, letting his fingers follow the shape of your ribs. He caressed over your belly, circling your belly button with his thumb. He watched as your chest rose and fell. He slid his palms up, flat against your skin as he pushed your bare tits together.

You could feel his hips shifting against you, feel the weight of his bulge against your cunt while he dropped to his elbow to bring your nipple to his mouth. His touch was firm. You could feel the hunger and need in the way he licked and sucked at your pointed nipples. He was holding back.

“Tell me.” He repeated. His voice was deeper, gravelly.

Your eyes fluttered closed and for a moment you wondered what came next. You knew what he wanted from you in this moment, but after that? You didn’t have the strength to fight him again. You released the breath you had been holding and asked him once more: “Be good, Ezra.”

There was little resistance when he plunged into you. He watched your face as you took what he gave, the way your mouth fell open and your head tipped back as he buried himself deep in your wet heat.

He hooked his arms under your shoulders, keeping you beneath him, as if you’d dream of leaving now. He grunted with the force of his hips pounding down into you, each heavy stroke forcing breathy cries from you. “Ah! Ah! Ahh! Ezra!”

“Is this good enough?” He asked, slowing his pace and looking down into your unfocused eyes. He looked further, down the planes of your sweat-slick bodies to where he stretched you in his cock. He rolled his hips just so, catching your clit with the wet hair at the base of his cock. You came, and he could feel your pounding pulse through the thin skin of your neck where he nibbled and sucked. When your body settled he redoubled his thrusts, palming your breast and panting into your neck until the moment he pulled out and spilled across your cunt.

The pod was silent, save for your heavy breaths, and you watched Ezra with caution. He was looking around, taking in the blinking lights and muted beeping of the control panel. He looked curious. Maybe resigned. He rubbed your thigh and you lay beside him on the floor, too aware of how your initial plan of escape was now useless. Your brain too scrambled from the force of your orgasm to formulate a new one.

Perhaps fortunately, you didn’t need to. Ezra squeezed your knee and leaned over you. He kissed you slowly and tenderly. Then, quietly, he whispered against your lips “give me the starter.”

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' a Ted Nivison x Reader

{{-When you reach the end of this chapter, I'd love to know: who do you think is at fault? Do you think it's evenly split? 30/60 one way or the other? Completely someone else's fault? I'd love to know!-}}

//General Warnings: 18+ fic (MINORS DNI), Reader implied to be afab and under 5'5, She/They pronouns generally used.

//Chapter Warnings: HARSH language, loud arguing, pure angst. Lyrics from Tommy Hanks by Jakey used. This was pain.

Word Count: 5.1k

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

@k-k0129 , @callsign-scully , @schlattandcompany & @limecorpse

☆Love You To Death!☆

Chapter 21: All These Lies.

Friday turned to Saturday, which turned into Sunday and by this point I know Ted won't be telling me anything. He isn't gonna tell me shit, and that frustrates me more than the actual secret he's been hiding. I haven't been nearly as chatty and sarcastic with him like I normally am, but he hasn't really shown to be suspicious. I can't tell if he feels the difference, I know I certainly do, but that's not a secret to me.

That's honestly what I don't get, all the secrecy. Sure, I get why Joe didn't initially tell me the truth, he had made a good point about it. No one was expecting Ted and I to actually get together so Joe didn't think it was important to share. That, and I was literally there for that event, I was there when it happened. I was right up on the stage while Ted was escorted out of the venue. I just don't remember it being HIM. That's just...so strange.

Because I didn't want to come off as suspicious, I would still be sleeping in Ted's bed with him every night, having his arm draped around me from behind or with my head laying against his shoulder. As I lay there Sunday night, knowing that Ted's time limit was coming close to an end, I couldn't help but wonder what it would've been like to meet him at that wedding or anytime afterwards. It wasn't technically the first time we were at the same event, we've attended the same cons and are friends with some of the same YouTuber's and yet it took Tanner's final assignment to bring us together. How different would everything be between us if Ted had been able to approach me at the wedding? Would I see back his drunken state and become curious? There would be no secret for him to hide, but considering his girlfriend had just left him that day, I more or less would've ended up a rebound. I don't wanna think about that.

Above all else, I just...I want this to work. Yes, I'm hurt that he's been hiding this and I'm even more upset with how easily he's been able to lie to my face, but there's also a small part of me that...kind of gets it. Not the lying part per se, but I keep thinking back on Ted and Joe's conversation and I can recall how anxious Ted sounded. I get not wanting to bring up old memories, I get wanting to get rid of that wasted first impression, I get wanting to start over and move on...but at least give us that option, right? At least let me decide how I'm going to feel about it. Who knows, I probably would've thought it was funny, it could've become a cute inside joke between us, an old mistake being used to strengthen our bond, but he wouldn't let me have that; let us have that. That's what's fuckin' bothering me, that's what I don't get. Why couldn't he tell me? Why couldn't he let me in?

I have a hard time sleeping that night, knowing that when the morning comes, Ted's time will be over. I know this limit was set by Joe, I don't have to be following it, but we're all packing up and officially leaving on Friday. That's less than 4 days at this point and I wanted to end the project on a high note. I don't want to wait for Ted to choose, not when he's had plenty of time. I'm not about to ruin this project because I'm anxious from all the fuckin' waiting. I still have to pretend to be falling in love with his character.

I manage to get at least some sleep, waking up to Ted's alarm as usual. I move Ted's arm off of my side and sit up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. This would usually be the part where I turn over to Ted and give him a kiss, but I just can't muster it up this time. I feel awful, like absolute dog shit. To my surprise, Ted notices that I've broken a pattern. For the first time since the weekend started, he's noticed a change.

"You feelin' okay?" Ted speaks up, his voice a little hoarse from just waking up, sitting up to lean back against his pillows. I don't really want to lie to him, but I'm not about to be like 'No, Joe told me you kept hitting on women at his wedding and I didn't sleep well', so I just cut that in half.

"I didn't sleep well.." I mumble, moving to stand up off the bed. One thing I'm lookin' forward to after this project is no longer waking up at 5am. I can't believe I've been as consistent with this as I have. I guess it's just been that fun. It was that fun...

"Oh--shit, is that my fault?" Ted asks with a slight frown, beginning to feel his bare chest and under his arms. I furrow my brows at him in confusion, watching as his hand lightly smacks around his body, feeling for...something.

"No, I just..." I pause, my confusion growing as I watch him. "...what are you doing?"

"I'm feeling for sweat. I sweat in my sleep sometimes. I sweat, like, all the time." Ted admits with a small shrug, returning his hands to his sides. "I thought maybe I had sweat on you or somethin'."

"No, I'm...I'm okay." I can't help the small chuckle that escapes me. "You haven't sweat on me.." It's weird to be speaking to him normally. It makes me nervous, making me subconsciously place my hand over my stomach. Anytime I hear his voice, it's a constant reminder that he's been lying to me, keeping something from me. I'm reminded that he's capable of lying to my face. I'm reminded that he's a coward, but then...I don't like keeping him at a distance, either. That nervousness turns into anxiety and I just feel cold and lonely. I'm not just sleeping in his bed to keep the act up, I'm sleeping in his bed because I need to be next to him. I need to feel his body heat next to me. I need to hear his steady breathing as he falls asleep. I need to feel his arms around me, need to see him smile, need to see him gaze at me with those warm hazel eyes. He needs to tell me. Please, God, Ted, just fucking tell me. It's Monday, you need to tell me.

I can see that Ted is still waiting for his kiss, quirking his brow at me with a small smile after he moves out of bed. I know I should probably kiss him, I don't want to take away affection all because I'm upset, but...I just can't.

"See ya downstairs.." I give Ted a little smile and a wave instead before I open his front door and head for my own room to get dressed. I don't even wanna imagine the look that washed over Ted's face in that moment, but at the same time, I hope he's disappointed. If he's finally starting to notice that things are different after a whole weekend, maybe it'll coax him into being honest with me. I don't know how much extra time today I'm gonna give him, but I've just woken up and I'm already getting frustrated.

I know what we're doing today, in fact I know what we're doing for the last 4 days of production. We officially only have 2 more scenes to film and they're both for the fabled ballroom dream sequence that's been hyped throughout this entire trip. I have no idea how it's going to be edited exactly but I know why we're shooting it twice. Ted and I will be slow dancing together, doing one version in our casual clothes with the living room as it is, and one version dressed up in our 60's Era formal wear with the entire living room switched up to look more vintage and old. I've been trying to picture how the final product will look in my head, but Tanner hasn't been giving me much to work with. He's been purposely vague about his plans for this scene and claims it'll be much more impactful that way when we all see the final product on the big screen. I trust him on that.

After I get dressed, I head downstairs to do the usual. I grab some breakfast, chat with Dan, Tanner and Joe and then head to the makeup corner to get all dolled up. I hear Ted come downstairs after a little bit and hear him chatting up the guys as well. He doesn't sound particularly sad or low, but I guess he knows how to hide it. I'm not doing a half bad job at doing that either. I can be secretive too.

No I'm sorry, I'm not gonna let this go. It's constantly running in my head, even now as I'm just sitting here getting my makeup done. My head is spinning. I've got a giant hamster running on a massive wheel in my head right now, I don't fucking know, I'm just getting madder and madder about this. I don't give a fuck that he got too drunk, I don't give a fuck that he was headed my way, I don't fucking care that he spilled wine on Joe's mom or his husband's mom or whoever's mom. He didn't have to lie to me about it. I'm pissed. I can't get over this.

I'm snapped out of my own thoughts when I hear Tanner calling for Ted and I, realizing that the makeup team had finished me up almost a full minute ago and I had been sitting there, staring at myself in the mirror in silence. I let out a soft sigh and move off the chair, moving into the living room to join Ted, Tanner and a few members of the wardrobe team who would be acting as extras. We had a different set of actually hired extras during the first week of filming, yes, but everything that's done is done on purpose, according to Tanner. You're supposed to not recognize anyone in the background. For reasons Tanner won't spill, it's intentional.

God, I don't really wanna slow dance with Ted right now, but I'm doing this for Tanner's project. The second we get some sort of break, I'm bringing my frustrations up to Ted in private. That's how I want to do this.

The first bit of today's scene is done in relative silence. One of Ted's hands rests on my hip while the other takes my free hand, holding it out at our side. I rest my hand on his shoulder, glancing down at my feet to make sure I'm not about to step on him. We have some basic music playing to give us a beat to sway to, but Ted and I are not told to talk at all, everyone's meant to be silent as a moving camera runs around the entire living room, slowly circling us. Ted's warm eyes never leave mine. I can tell that he's not acting here, he is gazing at me with real infatuation and adoration, his soft smile genuine and affectionate. For a moment, I become...lost in his gaze, a small smile creeping up along the corners of my own lips.

'What if it's a rom-com? Baby, we could get away

Be my Meg Ryan and I'll be your Tommy Hanks

I know people die young and your friends fade away

But I'm your Jakey Matthews, Christensen, McConaughey'

I feel Ted let go of my hand to bring his hand up to my face, lightly brushing some of my hair out of my face, his affectionate smile stretching his lips out more. He slowly caresses the back of his finger down the side of my face I...I don't think I've ever had a guy look at me the way Ted is right in this moment. Not ever. I wish the only thing I could feel right now were the butterflies in my stomach and the warmth in my heart, but the burning realization that he's been lying to me with those same eyes creeps right into my soul. I can't let my feelings for him push away my anger.

Tanner gets a few good shots with all of the expensive cameras in the room. He decides to do one more slow go around, encouraging everyone in the scene to talk to each other, claiming it'll add some 'natural-ility' to the scene. That's not a word, Tanner, but I get what you mean. He says we can talk about anything as long as we're a little quiet about it, so after a bit of adjusting, we return to slow dancing. I can immediately hear the room be filled with quiet conversation between the extras, once again keeping my eyes on Ted. I must've made a face at some point between scenes because Ted's no longer looking at me with infatuation. He looks visibly confused, maybe even a little conflicted.

"Are you okay?" Ted whispers to me, his smile faltering slightly with concern. "You've been...different." Okay, so he has noticed a difference and he's waiting until now to bring it up? How has he not connected the dots at this point? We didn't even film yesterday, he had ALL DAY yesterday to tell me the truth, he had ALL DAY yesterday to ask if I was okay, if we were okay. He can't possibly be this ignorant, can he? I can't fucking do this anymore.

'I could be the ten days that you never wanna lose

Be the ten things that they hate about you

It don't gotta be this way, Just rewind the tape back to the meet-cute

View it from the top anytime that you need to, babe'

"No.." I admit in a quiet tone, letting out a soft huff. I know this isn't the appropriate time to talk about this, but I need to get it off my chest. I can't wait for break. "I know, Ted.."

Ted clearly doesn't understand what I'm referencing at first, shaking his head ever so slightly. "I figured you'd know if you were okay or not, princess." Ted gives a quiet scoff, a soft smile once again crossing his blush-toned lips.

"No, Ted..." I shake my head back at him, keeping my voice quiet, but firm. "I know, Ted. I know."

Any and all affection and happiness is completely washed off of Ted's face and his expression slowly drops. His mouth hangs open slightly and his eyes widen. The camera is currently behind him so it doesn't catch his shock, but I do. I get to witness the exact moment of realization on Ted's face. I get to see him grasp the fact that I know he's been lying to me, all while still mindlessly swaying to whatever music we've drowned out.

"...How did you?--" Ted tries to speak up first, but I immediately cut him off, already knowing that the question was coming.

"I overheard you and Joe arguing about it Thursday night.." I cut him off to answer him, my tone cold and serious. "And I made him tell me Friday, around lunch.."

Ted let's out another scoff, not as friendly this time, and he looks away. He gives a slow shake of his head, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He looks upset. He doesn't have a right to look upset. "Okay..." He mutters under his breath and turns to look at me once more, giving me an expression I could only describe as...unamused. "How much did he tell you?.."

"Everything you didn't." I admit bluntly, trying to look relaxed just in case the camera circles back around to show my face. "That you got drunk, talked around with the girls, spilled wine on someone and was escorted out.."

"...Okay.." Ted repeats with another slow nod. He can't even look at me anymore, not directly. Not even 5 minutes ago he had no issues gazing at me, all with the knowledge that he was purposely keeping secrets from me. Now that the cats out of the bag, and he can't look at me? All he can say is 'Okay'?

"Okay? Okay?" I repeat back at him mockingly, still keeping my voice down. It's hard not to look angry. I certainly feel angry. "That can't be all you have to say.."

"Well I-I thought--" Ted let's out another scoff, blinking his eyes a bit more. "I thought I'd have more time.."

"More time?" I repeat, furrowing my brows ever so slightly. "Joe gave you until Monday, I heard all of it. Have ya checked the calendar lately?"

"I was going to tell you, (Y/N).." Ted frowns a little. "Eventually, I just...I'm sorry."

"When? Thursday? Friday?" I scoff. "Over the phone when I'm back in Washington, maybe?"

"No, just--I-I just needed time, I--"

"Time? We didn't even film anything yesterday, Ted. We filmed nothing."

"And?"

"You knew Joe had given you until today to tell me, that would've been the perfect day."

"Oh yeah, right before filming this? Real perfect."

"You had a full fucking day, Ted. That's plenty of time."

"It's not that easy, (Y/N)."

"Not as easy as lying to me, huh?"

"I wasn't lying the whole fuckin' time, princess. I didn't know--"

"Stop calling me that, I'm serious."

"What, did you want me to prepare a speech?"

"Guys?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you want a poem written in cursive, too?"

"Guys--"

"Oh fuck off, Ted, that's not fair."

"I don't know what want from me."

"I wanted the truth."

"Guys!"

It takes Ted and I way too long to see that our argument had disrupted the scene. At some point during the exchange, everyone had stopped and just stared at us. It was Tanner that had started calling out to us, a concerned frown on his face. "What's going on?.." Tanner speaks up again now that he has our attention, anxiously crossing his arms in front of his chest. "What happened?"

"Nothing.." Ted speaks up before I can, giving Tanner a dismissive wave. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not nothing." I step up in a frustrated tone, placing my hands on my hips. "Can we take 5? I need to talk to Ted."

"No, I'm not taking 5. We can finish the scene." Ted huffs, shaking his head at me before gesturing to Tanner again. "How much did you get before you stopped?"

"L-Like half.." Tanner stutters a little, the growing tension in the room causing him to look visibly uncomfortable. "Look, if you guys need to...work something out, we can--"

"We can work it off after you film the other half, right?" Ted asks, glancing over to the camera's. No, I'm not letting him get out of this. I don't care if he's a fucking director. "Just start from back there." Ted instructs the camera man, completely ignoring me at this point. "It's all good."

"No, it's not all good." I strengthen the tone of my voice, moving around Ted to stand in front of him once more. "We need to talk about this."

"We will, when we finish the scene." Ted insists.

"No, you've had all weekend. We're talking about this now."

"It's one fucking minute, princess."

"I wouldn't care if it was 5 seconds. I'm not finishing the scene until we discuss this."

"What is there to discuss? You know now, and I said I was sorry."

"Two words aren't gonna cut a week of lying to me, Ted."

"Are you really doing this here?"

"You won't do it elsewhere!"

"I just wanna finish the fucking scene, (Y/N)."

"I'm not fuckin' touching you until we talk."

"(Y/N), you're not gonna ruin a whole day of shooting when we've only got 4 days left, alright?"

"I'm not trying to ruin anything! I fucking love Tanner, he and Joe are like my brothers! You know this!"

"Yeah? And this is how you treat them?"

"Oh, like you were any fucking better to them at Joe's wedding?"

"I was drunk! I don't even--"

"All because you got dumped?"

I hear a few quiet gasps from some of the wardrobe team from that drop, but my focus is on how pale Ted's face becomes. He looks even more shocked than he did before, and he's not the only one. Dan is covering his mouth with his hand, Tanner looks distraught and Joe looks anxious, but disappointed.

"You what?.." Dan speaks softly, like he's trying to be quiet as to not set anyone off. "That's when she broke up with you?.."

"(Y/N)..." Joe frowns and pinches the bridge of his nose, lowering his head in shame. "Shit.."

"Wait, what? That's-That's not--" Tanner stammers over his words, completely stunned. "That's not what you told us..."

I'm finding it difficult to read the room, furrowing my brows as I look over everyone's astonished faces. I understand why the film crew might look surprised, but why are Tanner and Dan so perplexed?

"What? What?" I shrug my arms out, turning to look at Tanner. "What, like y'all didn't know that?"

"No." Tanner admits with raised brows, shaking his head a little at me. "That's not when he said it happened.."

"No, he said after." Dan admits, nervously clasping his hands in front of his face. "He said it happened a week after the wedding."

So I guess at some point last week, Tanner had asked Ted about his ex alongside Dan, the one that had left Ted at the wedding, but even when it was just the 3 of them, Ted had once again told a lie to save his own appearance, and I just completely spilled the truth out for everyone to hear. Not just in front of our core friend group, no. Everyone. The entire film crew, makeup, wardrobe department and all just heard me air that out.

All eyes are on us, Ted and I. Well, this isn't my fucking fault. How was I supposed to know all of the lies Ted has told? I didn't mean for it to turn into an argument. I didn't mean to disrupt the whole scene. I didn't mean to spout out his stupid secret. All these secrets. All these lies. All these rumors and whispers and eyes. I look at Ted one final time and he hasn't moved from where he's standing. He looks ashamed and pale, like all of the brightness and color has been sucked out of him. I don't care. I can't do this. I can't fucking take this. I need to breathe.

Without addressing anyone else, I grab my phone from the kitchen counter and start marching towards the front door. I ignore any and all calls to me, anyone saying my name, anyone telling me to come back. I put my shoes on and head right out the front door and I just walk. I just start walking forward.

I pass by everyone's parked cars in the roundabout driveway, I pass the fence that acts as a sort of archway into the property, I step onto the sidewalk and I just keep fucking going. I'm not even thinking about where I'm going or how far I'll be going, I'm just huffing and puffing as I stomp across this sidewalk. I take in the fresh air of the midday, wondering if any entitled suburban families are watching me stomp by their house through the front window. I can't fucking believe this. I can't believe it went this far. I didn't want to fucking argue like that. I didn't want to have a spat in front of every single fucking employee of that project. I didn't want to air out Ted's dirty laundry like that. I'm not that kind of person. I don't hurt people like that. I don't use secrets against people. I'm better than that. I'm better than this...

...but he didn't give me much of a choice, did he? Ted didn't want to fucking talk about this, he didn't want to tell me the truth. He told me the truth about his fuckin' girlfriend dumping him but didn't think to tell me to keep that to myself? Or is HE the only one allowed to keep secrets? I don't get it! What did I do that made him think he could treat me this way; that he could lie to me? Was I too easy? Was I too short? Too small? Too innocent? Too infatuated? Too biased? Christ, I know I've only known the guy for less than a month, but he never seemd the type to pull THIS shit. Joe and Tanner trusted him, they had so many good things to say about him, Joe practically gave us his fucking blessing. Joe said we looked good with each other, we were good for each other, we were good together! What the fuck happened?

I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket but I just keep fucking walking. I only deter away from the sidewalk when I come across an empty park that's always in the middle of these family-centric complexes. It reminds me that I should probably find a place to sit, I don't want to go too far in case I don't come back until the sun starts to set. I turn into the empty park and plop myself down on one of the low swings, rocking myself up and down with my feet against the chipped ground. I put my phone on the ground so I can hold both of the rusted chains with both hands and I just...sit, think and breathe. I genuinely can't stop feeling frustrated about this.

There's a part of me that wants to keep finding reasons to blame myself, that this all happened mostly because of how I was or how I acted. Maybe if most of it is my fault, we can move past it easier and stay together. I have no issues with apologizing, I can make up for what I did.

But there's another part of me that wants to put this 100% on Ted. He got me high under false expectations, he lied to my face multiple times throughout the week and he refused to talk to me in private unless it was under HIS conditions, like that fucking worked out the last time. Every step of the way, he was trying to avoid this. How else was I expected to react? How long was I expected to handle his dodging and weaving calmly and rationally?

I don't know how long I sit at this park. By the time I had sat down at the swings, my phone had stopped ringing for a little while. The longer I sit there, taking in those deep breaths, the calmer I start to become. I start to feel ridiculous for coming out here, for storming out of the house the way I did. All I did was walk straight for like 10, 20 minutes. It wouldn't take long for anyone to find me if they came looking. I just...I don't know what to do. I don't know what I should be feeling, how else I should be handling this. I've been trying to get him to communicate with me, we were doing so good before all of this shit, I don't want it to be over. So what if he flirted with a few girls 2 years ago? That's not what I'm hurt over, I'm hurt over the secrecy and the lies. I need to understand why he was so okay with lying, why he felt the need to lie. I just want the truth. I just want to talk to him.

...Damnit.

I put my head in my hands, leaning forward while still on the swing. I'm no longer moving back and forth, completely stagnate. What do I do? How do I fix this? This can't be the end, it can't be. Ted gets a little too drunk and spends the next 2 years essentially waiting for me, and it's gonna end with one argument? If we really, truly can't work this out, that's fine, but...I just need some damn answers. I want to talk to him. I need to talk to him, need to see him. I take in one last deep breath before pushing myself off the swing, grabbing my phone off the ground, then walking back to the sidewalk to return to set. I don't know what time it was when I left so I truly had no idea how to gaugue how long I'd been gone.

...Until I actually got back.

The first thing I notice as I approach the driveway is that most of the cars are gone, including Ted's Tacoma. None of the upstairs lights are on and I can't see any cameras in the windows or anything, despite the curtains being wide open. I take in another deep breath before sheepishly opening the front door, relieved that it was unlocked since I hadn't grabbed my keys. The only people I see right away are Tanner and Joe in the kitchen, looking almost...scared as they gaze down at their phones. The cameras and lights that had been set up earlier hadn't been moved since I've been gone. As I close the door behind me, Tanner and Joe look up from their phones with wide eyes, shuffling out of the kitchen to head to me.

"Did he find you?" Tanner asks with a worried frown, clenching his phone anxiously in his left hand. "Where is he?"

"What?" I give Tanner a confused look, shaking my head a little. "Who? Who's gone?"

"Ted. He left right after you." Tanner admitted, his frown deepening. "He's not with you?"

"No, I came back alone." I admit, slipping my shoes off. "I was just down the street. Why? Where did he go?"

"We don't know." Joe let's out a heavy huff and shrugs. "He just left."

"What do you mean you don't know?" I ask with a scowl. "He didn't say?"

"No, he literally just...grabbed his keys and went, like, a couple minutes after you.." Tanner replies, anxiously scratching the back of his head. "He's not answering his phone. He just...left."

Ted's...

Ted's just gone?

'It's the middle of the night with the morning dew

605 or the 212

Even after I'm gone, what if it's all a rom-com?'

__________________________________

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 (smut) || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 (here) || Chapter 22 || Chapter 23 || Chapter 24 || Chapter 25 (final) ||

[the-voldsoy]

I reallyyy want to make a website or something for fiction podcasts/audio dramas where you can search for characters or voice actors and figure out where the hell you recognise their voice from. Because the audio drama world is very small and I keep finding more and more people I recognise

[kabr0ztrousers]

Can I see the chitnids taken down a notch and the two humans from Disciplinary Action escape? I wanna see the reader and that guy get a happy ending in more ways than one 😘

Kabr0z Writes episode 65: Escape Attempt

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: oral sex; drugs mentioned; slavery mentioned; pregnancy; space flight; suffocation mentioned;

A/N: Well, I have a feeling this is going to be another one of those stories that instead of being straight porn winds up being a completely different genre before the plot, the timeframe, and the demands of the format start grinding against one another and people start to fuck.

Ah, well, let's watch two people escape from some aliens then fuck each other's brains out.

########################################

You touched the module, buried in the flesh at the base of your skull. Your master didn't activate it often, preferring to use the threat of it to force your compliance rather than actually reducing you to a heap of inert limbs and drooling flesh. It was a gilded cage in which you lived, but the bars held you even if they weren't visible. At least you had company.

"How are you, sweetheart?" Zane looked over to you. The scars on his skin never really faded from his previous owner's attentions, but his clothes were at least more pleasant for him now. Leather straps and gag replaced with flowing silks and bracelets. You'd started calling each other pet names almost exclusively, your owner read a few schlocky romance novels when he bought Zane and took them as though they were textbooks. He knew how humans fucked though, and made sure you did at least three or four times a week, dosing you both with the Chitinid aphrodisiac drugs and turning you loose on one another to rut until they wore off.

"I'm fine," you lied "Just need to get out of here" You weren't fine. Your period was late. Hell, it was AWOL last month, and you definitely should be feeling the start of this month's by now. There's no doubt, you were carrying Zane's child

He sighed "I know. Me too. Not that I don't like spending time together, I could've been in for much worse, but the thought of having a family for that... That bug."

You stroked his arm, cuddling into the crook of his neck. You held one another close, feeling each other's skin.

He looked at you "I have a plan. It's a bad one, and it's super risky, but it's a plan."

"Go on"

He nodded "We're headed to a jump gate. Thing is, this one comes out outside of Chitinid space. With any luck, we'll be able to drop an escape pod mid-flight, come out before the mothership and claim political asylum"

He wasn't kidding, that was an awful plan. If you failed... Well, best case scenario if you failed was the collar. Worst case would probably also involve the collar, come to think of it.

"I'm in. What's the play?"

Zane explained his plan. It was remarkably simple but relied on some assumptions. Firstly, it assumed this ship worked like his old master's. On that one, when it was in Witchspace it lost most of its peripheral systems as processing power diverted to navigation. Secondly, it assumed the collar modules in both of your spines would be considered peripheral systems, or at least low enough priority to take offline. Thirdly, that the idea of political asylum existed outside Earth history books.

Finally, and this is the kicker, it relied on an escape pod jettisoned at superluminal velocity into Witchspace both not immediately shredding into stardust and actually winding up in the vicinity of where you hoped to be.

"That's damn risky, Zane" Skeptical wasn't the word

He grinned, "What's the other option? That baby you're trying to hide not knowing a single day of freedom?" He smiled at you, taking your hand "I know enough, you haven't used any pads for almost two months."

You couldn't argue with that. You started to plan.

Step 1 was to wait, and watch. The PA system was punctual, as ever, so you knew exactly when the jump would be upon you. The trick was making sure you could find a pod bay where a janitor wouldn't be there. Thankfully, there's only two. One spilled glass of wine and a bug with a mop will be there.

Two minutes to the gate. The portside pods were unguarded. You waited together there, the wave of sickness coming over both of you at once as you entered Witchspace, normalising back down as causality fields erected within the hull of the ship.

Now's the time.

Zane grabbed the hatch wheel of a pod and turned heartily.

You waited for the collar.

It didn't happen. Your limbs remained yours, even as the pod door swung open. You climbed in with Zane, the close confines designed for the short Chitinid frame squeezing you close to one another.

The hatch swung closed, you looked at each other. You hit the button.

Acceleration. The pod hurtled on rails. G-force gave way to weightlessness. The pod left the causality field. You gained speed, the ship lagging behind you.

It's working.

No causality field means you travel faster, but your computer doesn't work, nor does anything it controls. Both of you held your breath. Pods don't hold much air, and with no computer the circulation wasn't running.

The pod was still accelerating. The ship lagged behind as you reached dizzying speed. The pod stretched across the altered spacetime, elongating as it sped up faster at the front than the back.

You hit the opposing gate like a train hitting a hill. Space crumpled and you slammed into yourself as regular spacetime causality reasserted itself. The computer bleeped to life, fresh air replacing stale as you hammered the SOS call button.

A ship answered your hail, a grey bulbous-headed alien on the screen, looking for all the world like a stereotypical Roswell martian. The alien spoke

"Greetings, you look like humans, is that correct?"

You stared, open-mouthed. The alien repeated itself, you assume in Spanish, before Zane spoke

"Humans! Yes! We request political asylum from the Chitinids!"

"Acknowledged, Chitinid vessel is expected in 90 Terran minutes, we'll have a dropship to you in 60. Welcome to the Vezzik Star League"

You'd made it.

You'd actually fucking made it!

You kissed Zane, holding his face to yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Wanna celebrate?"

"We've got time"

The silks did nothing to cover either of you. His cock was already starting to stand to attention as you grabbed it, jerking it as he stuck a pair of fingers between your thighs to stroke your moistening folds. You hit the gravity control, you started to float up as you repositioned, his head between your thighs and yours between his.

You licked and sucked on each other, your tongue teasing the end of his cock as he sucked your clit, fingers pressing into you as you rolled his balls in your hand. Your moans and grunts mingled, filling the capsule with the sounds of your pleasure.

His hands gripped your waist as he rotated you, swinging you around to put his cock at your entrance.

"Nice to do this sober for a change"

You gasped as he entered you, fingers still working your clit as his hips thrust again and again. You held your tits, still swollen and plump from the party when you met. Drops of milk leaked from you as you kneaded your soft flesh. Your orgasm rolled over you, gentle waves of sensation building as hos fingers worked over you, the delicious friction of his cock inside you adding to the feelings which overwhelmed your mind.

He pushed in harder, feeling your orgasm around him as he sprayed his seed at your already-occupied womb, the warmth filling you with a need to be held, to be loved by this man whom fate gave you, and who gave you your freedom in kind.

You stayed in each other's arms, the climate controlled pod keeping you safe and warm until the Vezzik ship scooped you up out of the blackness and into a hangar bay.

You're free at last

####################################

Yeah, I liked that one, but was it hot? I don't know.

As always, requests go to my ask box, there's only 3 definite "no" categories so if you're unsure if I'll write something please do ask, it'll probably be a yes

[thetriboulet]

I thank the merciful lord every day that the magnus archives did not exist during the 2014 tumblr era, because if it had Elias Bitch Bouchard would 100% have become one of those selfcest tumblr sexymen and I don't think the fandom would survive that level of carnal degeneracy.

[parasitic-saint]

showgirl's break (wip)

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

So this was a misremembered for me. I thought we were slamming up against the walls. Which I guess we maybe did in rehearsal and then we pulled back because she was pregnant or, and now I'm thinking about it like, we probably couldn't have been slamming each other up against a wall in a museum...This moment actually kind of bummed me out for the first time in a while of like, oh, Shawn and Angela we're a fun relationship to have as a counter to the Cory/Topanga thing. And, it would've been nice if we had ended up together because we have so many more complicated conversations, I think about being different types of people and coming together. And I feel like that, you know, because people have said over the years like that they like the Shawn and Angela relationship more than the Cory Topanga and I can kind of see why. It's like, seems it's so much more re and it's like none of this destiny fate meant to be like authoritarian sort of...-Rider 

Like you actually challenge each other. And then balance each other out.And e or even if you don't end up agreeing, you respect the POV and you know, and come around to saying, you know, may, in this case you were a hundred percent on the idea of no, Cory and Topanga, we have to get them back together. And she was like, dude, I encouraged her to go and I'm sorry bro it's over. And you got to a point where you were like, man, that's not what I want, but it's the reality I have to accept. That's, you know, healthy. -Danielle