#that's one hell of a mystery nobody thought was a mystery | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neferaskingdom · 3 months ago

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♡ Flirting? That’s a Track Limit Violation | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]

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Summary: Y/N drops a cryptic elevator pic hugging some random dude and it’s like throwing a grenade into the F1 paddock. Charles and Arthur are ready to form an FBI task force, and the drivers are gossiping harder than a group of high schoolers at lunch. Max? He’s out here pretending he doesn’t care, but we all know he’s five seconds away from flipping a table. Nobody has a clue who the guy is, but Max is sweating, the internet is thriving, and the drama is peak entertainment.

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A/N: thank you soo much for 100 followers guys I never knew this many people would end up liking this little fic. screaming, crying, throwing up fr 😭. also sorry to everyone who had to read the wonky letters version. tumblr messed up my format and I had to individually fix the words.

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Part 3 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series: Masterlist

y/n_leclerc posted an Instagram Story:

📸: A blurry photo of Y/N hugging a guy in an elevator, only his back visible.

Caption: A single red heart emoji❤️

Replies:

danielricciardo:

Popcorn out. Watching the Leclerc brothers have an absolute meltdown in 3… 2… 1… 😂

charles_leclerc:

Who the hell is this guy? Y/N, answer me RIGHT NOW!

arthur_leclerc:

This better be a joke, or I’m tracking your location. WHO. IS. HE?

landonorris:

Wait… bitch did you just drop a boyfriend announcement with a blurry elevator pic?? DID MAX SEE THIS?!?

↪ y/n_leclerc:

What does Max have to do with anything???

↪ landonorris:

OH MY LORD I CANNOT WITH YOU TWO

georgerussell63:

who dis?

alex_albon:

I feel like I just witnessed the calm before the storm. Charles is going to explode. Arthur’s already spiraling.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon, and 500,903 others.

Comments:

charles_leclerc:

Y/N, explain yourself. Who’s this guy?

arthur_leclerc:

SIS, YOU CAN’T JUST DROP A HEART AND EXPECT US TO BE CALM.

maxverstappen1:

So… new friend? Or something else?

↪ landonorris:

Max, you sound… interested? 👀

↪ georgerussell63:

Max, if you’re going to be subtle, you’re failing.

↪ danielricciardo:

Can we all just take a moment to appreciate how Charles is losing his mind over this while Max tries to act like he doesn’t care? 😂

↪ alex_albon:

Max pretending this is just a casual question while we all know he’s about to punch a wall.

lilyzneimer:

y/n_leclerc, the WAGs feel personally betrayed. We thought we were your ride or dies! 💔

charles_leclerc:

NO ONE IS ANSWERING MY QUESTIONS, AND I’M ABOUT TO START FLYING TO FIND THIS GUY.

↪ arthur_leclerc:

Charles, wait for me. I’ve got your back.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

Can you guys relax? It’s really not that serious.

lilymhe:

Hello??? y/n_leclerc, you ditched us for a man??? What happened to me being the love of your life? 😭

carmenmmundt:

I thought I was your only love 😞. I feel betrayed babes💔

f1_gossips tweeted:

F1 drivers are officially in meltdown mode after Y/N Leclerc posts a cryptic heart emoji with a mystery man. Charles and Arthur Leclerc are leading the charge, while Max Verstappen seems unusually ‘curious.’ What’s really going on here? 🤔

Comments:

user1:

Max ‘I’m totally not jealous’ Verstappen is the best version of Max.

user2:

Charles is on the verge of hunting this guy down while Max plays detective in the background.

user3:

MAX PRETENDING NOT TO CARE WHILE LITERALLY SWEATING THROUGH HIS RACE SUIT. I SEE YOU, VERSTAPPEN

user4:

This is going to end with Max accidentally confessing feelings. You heard it here first.

user5:

Y/N dropping a single heart emoji and causing the grid to spiral. POWER MOVE. 😈

user6:

Max is acting like he’s not freaking out, but I bet he’s checking her Insta every 10 minutes.

user7:

Arthur and Charles are about to pull up with baseball bats, and Max is trying to act like he’s just ‘concerned.’

y/n_leclerc posted an Instagram Story:

📸: Screenshot of her Instagram comments blowing up with messages from drivers, brothers, and the WAGs.

Caption: Y’all are doing TOO much. Chill, it’s not what you think! 😂

Replies:

charles_leclerc:

IF IT’S NOT WHAT WE THINK, THEN TELL US WHO HE IS. 😡

arthur_leclerc:

Sister, you better have a GOOD explanation for this. We are not playing.

landonorris:

Bro, Charles is about to have a meltdown, and Max is getting quieter. I don’t know which one is scarier.

danielricciardo:

I’ve never seen Charles so unhinged, and I live for this chaos. 🧨

georgerussell63:

You’ve been eerily quiet for someone who usually has a lot to say. Dont tell me this is serious?!?!

y/n_leclerc posted:

📸: Y/N and her best friend posing dramatically in the same elevator.

Caption: Relax, it’s just y/n_bff, my best friend. 😂 Y’all really lost your minds over an elevator hug, huh? Charles, Arthur, you can calm down now.

Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 420,876 others.

Comments:

charles_leclerc:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOU MADE US ALL PANIC FOR THIS?!

arthur_leclerc:

Y/N, YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO US.

maxverstappen1:

So… just a friend, huh? Good to know.

↪ landonorris:

Max, let out the biggest sigh of relief

↪ danielricciardo:

Max pretending he wasn’t two seconds away from launching an investigation.

↪ alex_albon:

Max, it's ok to breathe now. 😂

lilymhe:

Y/N, we need to talk about this betrayal. A PRANK AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US? 💔

↪ carmenmmundt:

You better make it up to us. We feel personally attacked.

f1gossips tweeted:

UPDATE: Y/N Leclerc has revealed the mystery man is just her best friend, but the damage has already been done. Max Verstappen, despite claiming not to care, was very quick to ask for details. Fans are now speculating on Max’s sudden interest. Could there be something brewing? 👀 #MaxYN #LeclercBrothers #PrankChaos #MaxNotJealous

Comments:

user8:

Max is like, ‘I’m not jealous, but… WHO IS THIS GUY?’ 😂

user9:

Charles and Arthur over here ready to fight while Max is low-key spiraling.

user10:

Max trying so hard to be subtle and failing MISERABLY.

user11:

Y/N is playing with fire, and I LOVE IT. She’s making Max sweat.

Groupchat Messages: (maxy/n truthers):

dudududu:

So… no real boyfriend?

albono:

Max, she literally just said that. You can chill now.

dudududu:

I wasn’t not chill. Just… you know, looking out for her.

albono:

Uh-huh. You sound real concerned for a ‘friend,’ Max. 😂

shoeysupremacy:

MAX, JUST ADMIT YOU’RE JEALOUS. IT’S PAINFUL TO WATCH.

norizz:

Max pretending not to care is the worst acting I’ve ever seen.

georgieporgie:

It’s the slowest, most awkward flirtation I’ve ever witnessed, and it’s amazing.

Twitter Reactions:

user12:

The longer this goes on, the more I think Max is one step away from confessing his feelings.

user13:

Max: ‘I’m not jealous, I’m just… CONCERNED.’

user14:

Max watching this whole thing unfold like it’s the worst pit stop of his life.

user15:

Max really out here pretending he didn’t have a minor breakdown over a blurry elevator pic.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: guys I think this might be my favourite spot now.

Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 220,896 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Just making sure. No weird guys in elevators, right?

↪ y/n_leclerc:

Max, stop worrying about elevators. You’re being ridiculous.

↪ maxverstappen1:

I’m just saying. You could do better than a blurry elevator hug. Maybe someone who drives fast for a living. Just a thought.

↪ danielricciardo:

OH MY GOD, MAX IS FLIRTING. MAX IS REALLY DOING THIS.

↪ landonorris:

Max ‘I’m not jealous’ Verstappen is actually… shooting his shot? 😂

↪ georgerussell63:

Y/N, this is your fault. You’ve broken Max.

user16:

MAX FLIRTING??? IS THIS REAL LIFE???

user17:

Max really out here going from ‘I’m not jealous’ to flirting in the comments. What a journey.

user18:

I LOVE THIS. Y/N has Max spinning, and it’s beautiful.

user19:

Max flirted, and the world just shifted on its axis. Did anyone else feel that?

user20:

Max shooting his shot in the most awkward, Max way possible is sending me.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: Sunsets🌞

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 426,276 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

The only thing more beautiful than this sunset is you

↪ y/n_leclerc:

...Max, what are you doing?

↪ danielricciardo:

OH MY GOD, MAX, DID YOU JUST— DID YOU JUST FLIRT IN PUBLIC? 😂

↪ charles_leclerc:

MAX, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!! 😡

↪ arthur_leclerc:

YOU’RE DEAD, VERSTAPPEN.

↪ landonorris:

Y/N, RUN. MAX IS LOSING IT.

↪ lilymhe:

Y/N, is this your new strategy? Break him down with elevator pranks and watch him crumble? Genius.

user21:

MAX REALLY WENT FOR IT. This man is shooting his shot ON MAIN. 😱

user22:

Y/N’s sundress got Max sweating more than a red flag in Q3. 💀

user23:

Charles and Arthur in full meltdown mode while Max is out here simping. We LOVE TO SEE IT.

user24:

MAX JUST FLIRTED IN THE COMMENTS LIKE IT’S CASUAL?!

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: Caffeine fix ☕

Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 420,876 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Bet that coffee isn’t as sweet as you. 😘

↪ y/n_leclerc:

MAX, STOP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. 😳

↪ landonorris:

STOP. MAX, YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE. 😂

↪ danielricciardo:

MAX, YOU CAN’T JUST DROP FLIRTY COMMENTS EVERYWHERE. Y/N’S IN SHOCK. 💀

↪ georgerussell63:

Max, for real. Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help.

lilymhe:

Y/N, please explain what kind of witchcraft you used to make Max simp THIS HARD. I need tips. 😂

alex_albon:

I’m both terrified and impressed at how fast Max has gone from 'I don't even like her' to 'full-on simp mode.'

charles_leclerc:

MAX. ENOUGH. I CAN’T HANDLE THIS.

↪ arthur_leclerc:

I’m grabbing the car keys. We’re handling this in person.

user25:

Max flirting in broad daylight while Charles and Arthur spiral into madness. THIS IS PEAK ENTERTAINMENT.

user26:

I need a documentary on how Max went from ‘I fucking hate her’ to dropping flirty lines under every post. 💀

user27:

Max is playing the long game. But damn, is he bad at being subtle.

user28:

I can’t decide if I’m living for this or dying of secondhand embarrassment for Y/N. Max, STOP. 😂

user29:

Y/N, blink twice if Max has you trapped in a flirty comment loop and you don’t know how to escape.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: “In the presence of great art, time stands still”

ps. yes I did copy that from google 🤗

Liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon, and 500,903 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Tried to focus on the art but my eyes keep wandering back to you

↪ alex_albon:

MAX, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? 😵

↪ landonorris:

Max, bro… this is getting uncomfortable. 😂

↪ danielricciardo:

MAX IS GOING FULL ROMEO. SOMEONE STOP HIM BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.

↪ georgerussell63:

Y/N, how are you even still functioning with this level of public simping?

↪ pierregasly:

I’m cackling. Max is like a flirty tornado right now. 💀

user30:

Max is one more flirty comment away from proposing marriage on Instagram Live.

user31:

Y/N is going to have a nervous breakdown at this rate. Max, CHILL.

user32:

Charles is gonna have a full-on crisis meeting about Max’s public simping. 😂

user33:

Max flirting with Y/N like he’s auditioning for a rom-com. WHAT IS HAPPENING.

user34:

Y/N trying to roast Max while he keeps throwing out flirty comments is actually hilarious. I hope she survives this.

user35:

Max went from “just friends” to dropping Shakespearean lines in under 24 hours. ICONIC.

DMs between Max and Y/N:

y/n_leclerc:

Max.

maxverstappen1:

Yes, Y/N? 😏

y/n_leclerc:

We need to talk. Immediately.

maxverstappen1:

Am I in trouble? Because I can explain everything. 😇

y/n_leclerc:

MAX, WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOU? The flirting in the comments?? I literally had to restrict my brothers from my posts to stop them from finding and KILLING YOU. 😩

maxverstappen1:

You restricted them?! 😅

y/n_leclerc:

YES. Because you’re out here leaving cheesy flirty comments like we’re on Love Island or something! And the public thinks we’re secretly dating. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? MAX. You’ve been openly flirting with me in front of CHARLES. On Instagram. IN FRONT OF THE WORLD. They’re going crazy.

maxverstappen1:

Oh, right. I forgot about the brothers. Oops. 😅

y/n_leclerc:

Forgot about the brothers?? You’re practically signing up for your own funeral. 😩

maxverstappen1:

Come on, Y/N, it’s not that bad. 😏

y/n_leclerc:

...Max. I’ve got people DMing me, my brothers are two steps away from driving to your house, and the internet is convinced we’re dating. You're taking the jokes way too far, and I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it needs to stop.

maxverstappen1:

...I wasn’t joking.

y/n_leclerc:

Excuse me?

maxverstappen1:

I’m not joking. About the flirting.

y/n_leclerc:

MAX. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT JOKING?! 😳

maxverstappen1:

I like you.

y/n_leclerc:

...Like, “like me” like me?

maxverstappen1:

Yes. 🙃

y/n_leclerc:

No. This is a prank. You’re pranking me. Where’s the camera? WHERE IS IT? 😵

maxverstappen1:

It’s not a prank, Y/N. I’ve liked you for a while.

y/n_leclerc:

MAX. You can’t just drop a BOMB like this in my DMs. What the hell do you mean “for a while”?!

maxverstappen1:

Years. 😅

y/n_leclerc:

YEARS?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YEARS?! 😱

maxverstappen1:

I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to ruin our thing. You know, the teasing, the banter. But when I saw that elevator post, I thought you had a boyfriend. It freaked me out. I realized I had to say something.

y/n_leclerc:

Oh my god, this is so much worse than I thought. 😵‍💫

maxverstappen1:

I didn’t want to mess things up, but I can’t keep pretending. I care about you, Y/N. More than just friends. I had to shoot my shot.

y/n_leclerc:

...You saw one blurry elevator pic and had a full-on emotional breakdown?

maxverstappen1:

Pretty much, yeah.

y/n_leclerc:

Max, this isn’t real life. This is some Netflix rom-com level nonsense, and I’m... confused.

maxverstappen1:

I know it’s sudden. But I’ve liked you for years. I just didn’t want to lose you and watch you love someone that wasn’t me

y/n_leclerc:

...oh.

come over

maxverstappen1:

what?

y/n_leclerc:

come over to my place so that I can kiss you dumbass cuz believe it or not but I kinda like you too

maxverstappen1:

gimme 5.

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1K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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Shower Shenanigans

part one: Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: midnight callers turn your quiet night upside down, but at least it ends with you riding your stranger in the shower.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.7k+

note: nobody asked for this but he's my muse now

warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected, in the shower, she's on top), blood, wounds, brain rot, author isn't British, probably setting up for part three, wonky brain doesn't care what warnings are missed.

A storm had rolled over Osaka, a steady thrumming at your hotel window creating a calming ambiance as you lit a couple of the candles you ordered from the front desk. Curled up on the tiny loveseat offered in the small living space, you flipped through your latest novel you grabbed before running into Tangerine at the train station. Speaking of, you glared at your phone for the hundredth time in an hour, feeling a sort of overwhelming dread that he hadn't called yet - or at the very least, texted.

Was it silly? Oh, you KNOW it was.

But he had said some really pretty things that rang in your ears on a haunting repeat the rest of the train ride. Then the whole taxi ride through Osaka, and the three days it's been since meeting him - he just wouldn't leave your conscious. Every meeting you had was vaguely interrupted by some sort of thought about your mysterious stranger, driving you up the wall.

Sure, you could call him, but the idea of calling a stranger for no reason other than to hear his voice felt a little too vulnerable to you. Yo could ask where he was, if he wanted to come for a visit - or hell, even before you departed Japan back for London, England, you could come see him... If he so wanted.

But your mind refused to let you dial his number, which was left in your recents after he had texted himself in the bathroom. The memory of your ex was still so fresh, making you feel silly for having such vivid, intense fantasies about a man you've met once. And for the love of Christ, you didn't even know his real name! Just his silly, fruity codename!

Man, if you hadn't been embarrassed before, the memory of moaning a fucking fruit surely made you cringe to the point you wanted the Earth to open up, swallow you whole, and never spit you out.

Your trip was soon to end with your departing flight tomorrow night, giving you just a day of leisure time in the city - but you didn't feel like doing much since the storm. Your book was interesting enough, keeping you entertained with a cart of hot food from room service within arms reach. Your tea was lukewarm by now, being much easier to drink, bowl of air-popped popcorn sat in your lap. Over the sounds of thunder, there was a knock at your door.

More like a banging, but hey, logistics. This was odd considering it was close to nine in the evening and you hadn't called for anything.

With a sigh, you marked your page and stood; annoyed by the continuous knocking, oversized tee shirt falling back over your thighs, socked feet stuffing into your slippers before traveling to the door. You called in Japanese, "Who is it?"

There was a small scraping, making your brows furrow and call your question again - but with much more urgency. "'S me, love, open the door, please," a raspy, British accent croaked seemingly through the crack. You left the chain lock in place, slowly opening the door a fraction to discover Tangerine - bloodied to high hell - leaning on the doorframe of your hotel room with two other bloody men behind him.

"What the fuck? Jesus Christ," you hissed, shutting the door, snapping the chain off and yanking it open once more. "Get in here, are you okay?" You asked, gasping right after when Tangerine stumbled a little, making you catch him; assualting your sinuses with the smell of citrus, metallic blood, and cigarette smoke. "All right, all right, you're safe now, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," you muttered, helping him over your shoulders and into your decently spacious hotel room. "C'mon, you two! Step lively before you trigger hotel security!"

You shuffled your stranger into the room and deposited him on the sofa; hearing his grunt of exaggerated pain. You looked at the others, sighing as you moved things out of the way, inviting the other two men to sit around the furniture. You tried not to worry about the cleaning bill you would surely get for all their blood.

"Jesus Christ, did you get shot?" You asked, seeing the fleshy wound in his shoulder that was very poorly staunched.

"That arsehole did it," he panted, pointing at the blonde stranger.

"Hi," the arsehole waved, "it was an accident, for whatever it's worth. I, uh... I have bad luck, don't really like guns," he shrugged meekly.

"You lot look like hell," you sighed, shaking your head and standing to your feet to take a few steps away. You asked over your shoulder, "Guess I shouldn't bother asking what happened?"

"Train wreck," the man Tangerine had been with earlier answered.

You blinked in shock, the men all wincing as they were seemingly finally able to relax. Only now, you noted they were all in the same clothes as days ago, just tattered, torn, burnt and singed, soaking wet from the storm, stained with blood. You looked at Tangerine, demanding, "Is that why you told me to get off the train? You were gonna crash it!?"

"No, no, darlin', that wasn't the plan," Tangerine coughed, head tilted back. "Just... Happened."

"Call it his bad luck, huh?" You shook your head and moved for the hotel's phone, dialing the front desk and waiting. When they answered, the cheery front desk girl asked how she could help and you asked her what first aid supplies the hotel kept stocked. She answered and you asked if you'd be able to get enough for three kits - claiming you were practicing for a medical school final. She was more than happy to oblige, telling you her brother did much of the same, and she'd send the kits right up.

Thanking her, you hung up, and turned back for room. You found a pair of shorts and hopped into them for modesty, using your ice bucket to fill with water, grabbing whatever hand towels and washcloths you could. You set the bucket to the coffee table, dipping the cloths in for the two strangers, asking, "You guys wanna clean up a bit?"

"Please," the blonde wheezed.

You nodded, handing over the wet towels and moved the bucket a little closer for them to reach. You introduced yourself to them, offering a smile, turning for Tangerine and taking a seat beside him to start cleaning him up. "Lemon," your companion's counterpart introduced.

"Ladybug."

"More fucking codenames," you mumbled, shaking your head, trying to mop up Tangerine's forehead. "Jesus, fuck, sweetheart, what did you do? Bash your head through a glass wall?"

"Window, actually," he mumbled, reaching up to caress your wrist and cracking his eyes open. "Thank you, darlin'."

"Hush," you smiled, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You guys are gonna need showers and new clothes, huh?" You looked at the other two, who were scattered around the room to use whatever reflective surface they could find.

"That'd be nice," Ladybug nodded. "Anyone any cash?"

You sighed, "I've got you guys, 's all right."

As you reached for the bucket of warm water again to rinse the washcloth and wring it out, you missed the looks Lemon and Tangerine exchanged; both mildly impressed with your generosity and kindness. Certainly, someone who would never get tangled up in the lot of them on regular circumstances.

The knock at your door made the entire room still, you sparing them a skeptical look and reprimanding as you stood, "Relax, it's just the supplies."

Still, Lemon and Ladybug made sure they were out of sight as Tangerine just couldn't move once deposited on the sofa. You greeted the service worker, strategic in how wide you opened the door, and accepted the supplies; thanking the man, closing the door, and depositing the materials on your still-made bed.

However, a new thought occurred and you picked up the phone once more. When it connected to the front desk, you asked if your conjoining room was vacant - and to your shock, it was. You asked if they would add the room to yours because your friend suddenly decided to join you (not a total lie), and some 20 minutes later, you were giving Ladybug and Lemon their own room keys. You propped the conjoining door open, the two men using the first aid kits and the other room's shower as you got Tangerine to a point you didn't think he would bleed out.

"Okay, sweetheart," you caressed his jaw, "I'm gonna pop over to the shops across the street, okay? Grab you guys some necessities."

"You don't have to, we shouldn't burden you like this," he whispered.

"You guys can't walk around in these clothes," you chuckled.

"Have been."

"Yeah, on the side of the road, huh?"

"Back of a tangerine truck for a bit, too," he chuckled.

"Well, that's fitting. Look, just," you sighed, leaning in to peck his lips softly, "stay here, rest, eat, I'll be right back. Get a shower if you feel able, yeah?"

He nodded, just looking you over for a moment. "I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking his head, "I didn't know where else t'go. Whole plan went t'shit, we were out of options, love, just... Didn't know where t'turn ta."

"How'd you even find me?"

He shrugged, "I have my ways."

"Well, that's doesn't vaguely make you sound like a stalker." Another peck to his amused smile. "I'll be right back, promise," you stood, found a pair of sweats, a hoodie, and changed your shoes before heading out the door.

Was it stupid to leave three strangers alone in your hotel room? For sure. But you still went, you were a caring person by nature and the idea of making them fend for themselves felt wrong.

Especially after the state they showed up in, Tangerine's soft words about not knowing where to go; you just wanted to help since you had the ability to.

Across the street, splashing through puddles, you zipped around what was available and gathered three sets of sweatpants, shirts, jackets or hoodies, and figured their shoes were fine for now until they could change them later. You grabbed a few snacks and bottles of water, sports drinks, and energy drinks, paid, and made it back to your hotel room.

"Oh, blessings, you sweet girl!" Lemon gasped when you presented the change of clothes and snacks. "Oh, fuck yeah," he whispered to himself, taking the gift and going to change as you tossed Ladybug his own set.

When you found Tangerine, he was in the same place - but at least he didn't look worse. Just exhausted.

"Hey," you cooed, caressing his head and watching his eyes crack open.

"You're back," he smiled.

"Mhm," you hummed, "and you need a shower. C'mon, then you can get in bed, get some rest."

"Nah, love," he groaned when you took his wrists, "let's jus' go t'bed."

"Tan, you're absolutely disgusting right now, you'll feel better under the water. C'mon, there's a shower seat, you don't have to do anything, I'll help you."

He winced when you helped him on his feet, hobbling into the bathroom as Ladybug and Lemon were chowing down on whatever they could get their hands on. In the bathroom, you shut the door, set a clean towel on the counter, and turned to see him leaning on a wall, just watching you. You offered a soft smile, starting the shower to hea up, and then approaching him.

"Easy," you whispered, helping him unlatch his belt, step from his shoes, and then shed his trousers. His waistcoat followed, then his button-up, you gasping lightly, "Oh, fuck! Oh, my God. Yeah," you gently pet his side, prodding the dark wound, "you've got some broken ribs, sweetheart. Fuck's sake."

"That arsehole did that, too," he mused.

"Seriously? Damn, how'd you get your arse handed to yah by a lad named Ladybug?" You joked, dropping his boxers and pulling him from the wall. You made sure he was on the shower seat before stepping back and stripping yourself, joining him in the heat and getting to your knees.

With another washcloth, you gently suds over his body, the soap helping sweep away from grime. He let you work, scrubbing his feet, then working up his legs, rinsing, reapplying the soap, and continuing on your way. You washed his thighs and up his hips, to his waist, ignoring the way his cock stirred to life, bobbing into your elbow as it swelled. You were gentle over his bruises, the water feeling nice over your tired bodies; the soft scents of the soap soothing.

When you straightened up to wash his chest, you missed the way his eyes scanned over your soaking wet form. Feeling your hands on his collarbones, he reached down to seize your hips and heave - making you yelp. "The hell are you doing?" You gasped, needing to stabilize yourself on the wall and his non-shot shoulder.

"'S been three days too long, just wanted yah close," he whispered, sighing as his hands smoothed down your hips; gripping the flesh until indentations appeared.

You tisked, "You're hurt, you don't need t'fuckin' lift me. Use your words next time, won't you?"

He chuckled, "And what? Risk you sayin' no 'cause you don't wanna hurt me? Nah, love," he sighed. "Just wanted yah close, t'feel yah."

You hummed, "Close your eyes."

"Hmm?"

You held up the shampoo bottle, squirting a generous amount into your hand before starting to lather it into his scalp. He groaned, hissed at a few intervals, but overall let you work your fingers through his curls; pulling out any knots, shards of glass, and loosening the dried blood.

"You all right?" You checked, lifted on your knees to work; breasts all but pressed into his face.

"Mhm," he hummed, coiling his arms around you so he could literally just press his face into your cleavage. You chuckled, giving him a quick cuddle as he pecked your skin slowly, and continuing your work. When you lowered yourself back to his lap, your bare cunt drug down his shaft, making you both groan. "Baby," he seethed through his teeth, gripping the back of your neck to keep you close, "please, just - get on me, yeah? Need yah - on a biblical level, darlin'."

"You're hurt," you weakly refused, your resolve barely hanging on by a thread.

"Not so hurt that I can't enjoy this, huh?" He argued, licking over your lips to halt all rational thought. "C'mon, love, we hiked it three days here - after a fuckin' train wreck. I would've dropped if not for the thought of you, seein' yah, touchin' you again. Don't even gotta move, just sit there, love."

"If I do, will you finally just sit still and let me clean you up?"

"Whatever baby wants, she'll have, swear it," he grinned, hoisting you into his arms so he could grip his throbbing cock, lower you, and line himself up until you were impaling yourself on him. "Jesus, fuck!" He snapped, mixing with your whimper at his impossible stretch. "Ah, you feel so fuckin' good, doll, this is it - this is what I needed, huh? All I fuckin' needed - fuck - right fuckin' here."

"Hush," you whispered with an embarrassed smile, glancing back. "I need the shower head."

"I got us," he answered, holding you tight and standing with a small grunt. He easily grabbed the shower head, handing it to you, letting you rinse his hair out as he turned to pin you against the wall with his hips for balance.

"This isn't just sitting," you mocked, soap flowing down his shoulders and chest. "Close your eyes, please," you whispered, wiping the frothy suds from his face as he did. "God, your curls are magnificent, seriously, why does God give the best qualities to men - who don't even appreciate what they have?"

He laughed lightly, "Gotta get your attention somehow."

"Mhm, these lashes? Not even a drop of mascara," you mused, pecking the tip of his nose while one hand held his jaw. "And this jawline? Baby, this alone could cut glass."

"Like your nipples, right?" He teased, nipping your collarbones; both acutely aware of your pebbled nips dancing across his flesh each time you moved. He chuckled, readjusting you when you reached to set the shower head back in the holder; making sure it could cascade over the bench still. "We done?" He asked softly.

"Nope, got the conditioner," you rolled your eyes, holding his shoulders when he moved back for the seat; still firmly inside you. When he sat again, you released a high-pitched breath when the position pushed him further into you; your legs folding beside his thighs to keep the ideal grip.

"In a second," he smirked, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. "Just need this, yeah?" He spoke against your lips, licking into your mouth. "Been hiking with a fucking hard-on for days, love, just fuckin' need this," he hissed into your mouth, teeth raking over your bottom lip in a possessive bite. You moaned quietly, lost in the ministrations of kissing him like a drunk teenager, barely aware when he started moving your hips over him.

"Tan," you tried.

"C'mon, love, we both need it," he shook his head. "Tell me to stop and I will, but I think we both need this."

With a long sigh, you pet his cheek, deciding, "Fine, but we're taking it easy, you're still - " But then there was a loud knock at the bathroom door, Lemon calling your name in question. You slapped a hand over Tangerine's irritated mouth when he looked ready to yell his protest, answering, "What is it, honey, are you guys okay? What's wrong?"

"Yeah, just, uh... Can we order a couple things from room service? Bit starving, thinkin' something hot?"

"Oh, yeah, whatever you guys need!" You encouraged happily, Tangerine biting your palm and making your hand retract with a small whine and pout.

"Oi!" He called over the shower stream.

"Yeah?" Lemon was heard laughing.

"Don't run up her bill, mate!"

"It's okay," you whispered, pecking his forehead. "Get what you need, Lemon," you called, "but order Tangerine something to eat, too, please!"

"On it, love! Thank you!"

"Oh! Of course!" You beamed back at Tangerine, who offered you a mild look of annoyance.

"Now, why do that?" He asked, grinding your hips on his again. "Huh? Those two will eat you outta house and home, love."

"It's fine, you guys have been through a lot," you promised, connecting your lips in a long kiss. "Now, you wanna keep talking financials or put the rest of this hot water to use?"

"There's my girl," he grunted, standing from the bench to move fully under the water; pinning you to the wall again.

You grunted when you collided with the cold tile, but the warm tongue in your mouth was plenty distraction. You held his neck like it was your single tether to life, teeth clashing, tongues wagging, lips wet and creating obscene sounds the more intense the kisses turned.

"Fuck," you felt the air punch from your lungs when Tangerine pulled his hips back to start thrusting; brows furrowed together in concentration as he worked in and out of you at an already brutal pace. You didn't complain - he obviously needed this, and by God, it felt otherworldly.

"'Ats my girl, so fuckin' good for me," he muttered, needing this more than you have ever before; each hand holding a thigh to keep you spread open for his taking, hips hammering into yours as his balls slapped the apex of your cunt to echo around the room.

You felt incoherent when he picked up his speed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder when your head was thrown back as he worked you closer, closer, closer to your release. There was no thought in your mind, just Tangerine; drunk on his smell, taste, touch, never wanting this feeling to end.

Just outside the bathroom, Ladybug was accepting the room service order when he heard the messy, obscene noises coming from the bathroom; looking wide eyed at the closed door. Lemon laughed, "Might wanna walk away, Joburg, he don't like nobody listening in."

"Kinda hard to when they're that loud," he blanched when you released a pornographic moan as Tangerine readjusted his stance so his cock was piercing what felt like straight through you. Lemon laughed at Ladybug being startled so much he literally scurried away.

"C'mon, love," Tangerine panted.

"Go back," you moaned, pawing at his shoulders as you felt too slippery in this position.

"Huh?"

"Sit!" You insisted, him pulling back from the wall and backing up until the bench hit the back of his knees - dropping him. "There's my boy," you mocked, a hand on the wall, the other on his good shoulder, supporting you to vigorously ride him. You felt renewed energy now that he was obviously okay, only his bullet wound still weeping - something you'll patch up once out of the water.

"Oh, holy fuck," Tangerine moaned, louder than you would've thought; his head thumping back to the wall and losing all composure. "That's it, doll, keep like that - ohhh, fuck me!"

"Exactly what I'm doing, yeah?" You teased, moving your hand to his throat and keeping pressure enough not to fully choke his air supply, but enough to make him moan at the feeling.

His mouth dropped open as you rode him enthusiastically, feeling determined to reward him for coming all this way to track you down. Yeah, sure, for a moment, it was concerning, but now, you simply didn't care that three strangers had found your hotel room and now crashed with you.

Nothing mattered when this deliriously delicious cock was inside you.

"Jesus!" Tangerine moaned, hands to your hips to help you move, but it seemed the years in your youth as an equestrian was truly paying off. Call it muscle memory, but years after mastering the posting trot and the correct canter diagonal, you were riding Tangerine as if you'd drop dead if you didn't. And he felt it, he felt all of it. "Yeah, you're too good at this," he groaned, "so fuckin' good - Goddamnit - fuck me. Just like that, love, keep going - fuck, I'm right there."

You smirked, pushing his neck back so we was pinned to the wall now, his eyes locked with yours, mouth agape, your breasts bouncing with vigor. You squeaked when Tangerine braced his feet, his own hips thrusting up into you to match your movements; adding to both your mounting pleasures as the shower created a cloud of steam around you both in a welcomed lung-choking heat.

You honestly didn't mean to, but the absolute gut-wrecking pleasure you felt was enough for you to moan in Tangerine's ear, "Daddy."

It seemed the right word as Tangerine groaned in an echo, thrusting faster to the point you couldn't keep up. You could only moan, groan, squeak, cry-out as he jackhammered up into you - something that made Lemon and Ladybug exchange looks, gather their things, and rush back over to their adjoining room to leave you both a fraction of privacy.

"Yeah, tell Daddy how good it is," he seethed in your ear, opening his mouth, and biting down on your neck; hand tightly wound in your hair.

"So good."

"How good?"

"Too good, Daddy, please," you sobbed, braced on his shoulders and chest as his arms held you tight to let him thrust with abandon. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, yes, yes, yes," you praised, your orgasm rushing higher and higher to a new height. "Fuck," you moaned in his ear, "need this cock everyday. Went three days without, felt like I was losing my fucking mind."

"Feelin's mutual, love, so fuckin' mutual," he agreed, his cock swelling, "just needed t'get here, find yah again. Shit, fuck," he looked to where you were conjoined, praising, "gonna need yah home address - ain't no way we're goin' without one another, huh? Hey?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you squeaked, "there - there - there!"

His thumb pressed to your clit and you were done for. Grinding and humping into his hips, you crashed over the other side of your orgasm; feeling mildly limp as you slumped against his shoulder, letting Tangerine thrust a few more times.

"YES!" He shouted your name through clenched teeth, holding you with a vice grip as he bottomed out, balls contracting, squirting his full load inside you with shuddering breaths.

"Oh, my God," you sniffled, holding onto him as your legs were spent and you knew, the odds of you moving any time soon were slim to none.

"Yeah," Tangerine chuckled, leaning back to the wall as he panted; keeping hold of you. "Yah all right, love?"

"Uh-huh," you breathed, still absentminded.

"Yeah," he mused, pecking below your ear. "Just what the doctor ordered, huh?"

"Think the doctor would want your wound closed," you slowly sat off him, looking to the bloody hole and frowning as you pet around the irritated skin. He winced gently, making you frown, "Let's go, love, you need this tended to."

Only, when you dismounted, his cock flopping out of you once released, you tried to find your feet but only found the floor.

"C'mon, love, you just sit," he sighed, scooping you up and switching spots. He set you on the bench, stood, rinsed off under the water, readjusted the stream so it hit you a little better as he lathered conditioner into his curls with one arm.

"You're supposed to leave it sit for a bit," you tisked when he washed the conditioner out; shaking his curls.

"'S all right, still does the job."

"Your girlfriends never taught you haircare?"

He cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish as he avoided your eyes. "Never really had one outside of secondary school. Job doesn't make dating the easiest, yeah?"

You furrowed your brows gently, then nodded, "Okay, well, just means you've room to learn, right?"

"Yeah, sure. You gonna teach me, love?" He mused, slicking his hair back in the water before shutting it off; wringing a few strands out.

"Why not?" You smiled. "But you gotta teach me something in return."

"Hmm? What's that you wanna learn?"

"How to shoot a gun."

He offered you a long look, seemingly skeptical. You accepted his hand and got from the bench, squeezing when the weight of your body made them tremble lightly. Stepping out, you both dried off with towels as he offered, "Why d'you think I know how to shoot a gun?"

"Tellin' me that Ladybug fellow is the only one? That's fine, I can ask him," you quipped, making him instantly respond,

"Nah, nah, nah, nah, don't do all that, I'll teach yah, love."

You smiled softly, wrapping your hair in a towel and approaching him - still naked. "Thank you," you whispered, kissing his lips in a soft, sweeping motion that made him hum in the back of his throat and reach for your bare arsecheek. "Now, c'mon, let's get you stitched up before you go startin' something you can't finish."

"You met me, love? I always finish," he gave a cheeky squeeze.

"Mhm, might be the last time, too, with this blood loss. Huh?"

He relented in a head nod and wrapped the towel around his hips, watching you shrug on a fluffy white robe and tie the sash. He took your hand, laced your fingers together, and exited the bathroom - only to come to a shocking halt.

There was blood trailed all over the room, medical supplies strewn around, and several food wrappers. "Told yah, love," Tangerine sighed.

"It's okay," you smiled, "they'll clean it."

"You're so sure?"

"I'm very persuasive," you eased. "C'mon, sit," you ushered him back to the bloodied sofa, figuring damage was already done and anymore blood wouldn't make much of a difference. You grabbed whatever material you could, snapping on rubber gloves and taking a deep breath. "Ready?" You asked Tangerine.

"One more kiss and you can have at it," he sighed, leaning in until you met him happily; offering several swipes of his tongue before resting his forehead on your own.

"It'll sting for a bit," you warned, holding the bottle of alcohol.

"C'mon, darlin', 's all right, I can handle - OH! FUCKS SAKE!" He cursed when you poured the disinfectant over his bullet wound.

In the next room, Ladybug and Lemon shared a look before snickering as if two juvenile boys at a sleepover. And honestly? Spot the difference.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #bullet train tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #bullet train 2022 #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine smut #tangerine imagine

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lostmyself-whenilostyou · 3 days ago

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𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐆𝐨

“𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒹𝒾𝓂𝑒”

AN: This is so long guys sorry I'm thinking of making it a series?

Pairing: Kang Dae Ho/388 x F! Reader

Warnings: Really none, swearing maybe, oh and blood, death, no smut for this part (sorryyy)

Word count: 1,454

You woke up in a bed surrounded by hundreds of other people, you didn't know where you were, but all you could remember is getting in a van after a man at a subway station said you could make money to pay your debts in some “games” like the one he had played with you, and next thing you knew, you woke up here. You looked around as all the other people around you woke up at the music that was playing over some speakers. You walked to the center, confused but following everyone else as a door opened in the front of the room and some masked people in red uniforms stepped out. He welcomed all of you as he said over the next six days you’d be playing some games and would receive a cash prize if you won. Some people started complaining about how you all got basically kidnapped into these games, but they all shut up once the people who seemed like “guards” started showing videos of all the people there playing the same game you did at the subway station, and saying how much each person owed. Now you were even more confused, did everybody come here for the same reason as you? You were embarrassed as they played the clip of you getting slapped in the face. But that was quickly replaced with shock once they announced how much the cash prize would be.45,600 billion Won. Your jaw dropped at the amount announced as they lowered a golden piggy bank from the ceiling.

After all that was done, you were brought into the first game, you almost laughed as they announced the game, “Red light, green light”? The children's game? Now you really didnt know what the fuck was going on. A voice started saying the instructions for the game, you didn't bother paying attention, too wrapped up in your thoughts of what was going on. Until a voice snapped you out of it. “This is not just a game! If you lose the game, you die!!” A voice shouted out, you thought the guy was insane, and so did everyone apparently, since they started laughing at him, thinking he was saying that to win the prize money himself. The man pleaded with everyone to believe him. But as the doll turned around nobody did. That is until the game started. You moved as fast as you could, stopping as soon as the giant doll turned around. You didn't believe you were gonna die, but you sure as hell were not losing a 45,600 billion Won prize. The man continued on his paranoid talk as he shouted ��FREEZE” every time the doll turned around. This continued for a few more turns until you heard a girl yell and move. You were shocked at seeing she got shot in the head after moving. And now with even more fear, you did not move. As you heard another gunshot you almost flinched but tried to remain still as people on both sides of you started trying to run for the doors. You couldn't move if you wanted to, paralyzed with fear for the next couple of turns. Your eyes moved to the timer on the wall. 1 minute left and you were only a little more than half way across. You didn't wanna die but you were stuck in place, having forgotten how to move. That is until you feel a hand grab yours and drag you along with them. You were still in shock as you turned to see a tall man with jet black hair next to you as you now ran with him, stopping when the doll turned around. You couldn't speak as you still feared you would die with 50 seconds left on the timer, the guy kept on running with you till the finish line with only 5 seconds left on the timer, you immediately broke down sobbing as you crossed the finish line with this mysterious guy. You immediately started thanking him for saving you. “Thank you so much.” You said through tears, mostly tears of happiness and relief now as he smiled at you, and for some odd reason, your heart fluttered at his small smile as he panted, tired like you. As you both slumped against the wall behind you, he spoke up. “You're welcome. I couldn't let a girl as pretty as you die.” He mumbled the last part but you sure heard it as he blushed slightly, you couldn't tell if it was because of his words or he was simply tired from running, so you just ignored that and the fact it made you feel quite warm inside.

Later, after you were taken out of the game, you sat in your bed next to the man who had saved your life, he told you to stick with him now, and you’d be crazy to deny some sort of ‘protection’ in these games. You were both scared, even if he didnt say it you could see it on his face as you spoke up in a slightly trembling voice. “So, what's your name?” You asked as he lifted up his head at your question “Dae-ho. Kang Dae Ho.” He answered back with a scared smile. “Im-” Before you could finish your sentence the doors opened and the masked guards stepped out again. You looked around as you froze in place, seeing people hide under the beds or back up into the corners. Some people even started begging for their lives, kneeling down on the floor as one of the guards spoke up, saying they were not there to harm you. Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice speak up, the same man shouting during the first game, player 456. “Clause 3 of the consent form. The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Correct?” He shouted out at the guards. They agreed, saying you could take a vote. But before that they lowered the giant piggy bank again, showing the amount of money accumulated from the first game. 9.1 billion won. Everyone, including you and Dae Ho looked up in awe at the money as the stacks of Won dropped down into the piggy bank. The guards explained you could all divide the money now equally, or play more games and win more money. As appealing as that sounded to you, you were scared and weren't about to risk your life again. You looked over at Dae Ho as they explained the voting process. “You’ll vote to go, right?” You asked, the fear creeping back into your voice. He nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, yeah.” His tone didn't convince you, and you just met him, so you couldn't trust his words as you both walked into the lines being formed at the center of the room for voting. After some people voted and O was winning, player 456 spoke up again, saying he had played these games before and all the people with him died. You were even more scared now and just wanted to go home.

As you walked up to the two buttons in front of you, with a shaky hand you pressed X and placed the X on your chest. Going onto the X side of the room. A few more people passed and then it was Dae Ho’s turn. You hoped you were wrong and he would vote X, but as his face lit up blue and the numbers in O went up, you couldn't help but feel betrayed for some reason, even if you two had just met. You looked over as he went to the O side with a shocked and hurt expression. You knew you couldn't trust him, so why did this shock you? He met your gaze with a quite guilty expression as you looked away, angry and sad that you wouldn't be able to go home yet, but you decided to internally forgive him as the voting passed since even with him voting opposite, the majority wanted to stay. After the voting was over and you sadly were not gonna go home yet, you went back to your bed as the guards handed out food to the people in line for it. You simply couldn't eat, not after seeing all those people die, slightly covered in blood yourself, not after being betrayed like that. You felt disgusted and betrayed yet you didn't even know why, you had just met Dae Ho but there was something about him, a feeling he gave you that you just couldn't shake off. It was a feeling that made you think being stuck here for one more day wouldn't be that bad if you had him.

Okay this will defintely have another part. Anyway this was my first ever fic and I just felt like I had to write the WHOLE plot idk why, so I hope I did good😭😭. I hope you enjoyed it and if you have any requests dont be shyyy gimme cuz Idk what to write on a blog like this lmaooo

#dae ho x reader #dae ho #kang dae ho #squid game #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #squid game spoilers #squid game season 2 spoilers #season 2 #kang daeho #daeho x reader #player 388

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ennabear · 23 days ago

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hehehe haii :P quick roblox with sevika blurb, inspired by lyss and pluto who are my roblox family 🤎 this is stupid and silly hehe don’t mind me i just think old woman playing video game is funny. also mutuals add me on roblox my username is sevikasgf_real!!

general:

ok so first of all, it would take FOREVER for her to make an account 😭 she does not know how to make a username and she’d probably try to enter something like “tittysucker2000” and get mad that the system says it’s not appropriate. but after a while of her struggling to come up with something that isn’t censored, she’d settle for something cute (like ennasgf_real) because you got tired of her struggling and being annoying.

her avatar would be so fucking funny!! purple skin and a bob, some random shirt that she found for free in the catalog, probably a picture of someone’s dog or something. she’d end up clicking around too much and find a way to make all of her limbs different shapes and sizes but not know how to fix it, so she just embraces the look of her avatar.

if you bought her robux she’d very likely spend it all in one place… she’d see a random costume that she wants to buy and suddenly all of robux are down the drain…

she would get banned from voice chat INSTANTLY. ignores all of the warnings that pop up on her screen for not following the guidelines. it starts with a ton of quick suspensions and then she’s just permanently in vc jail.

SCREAMS at the little kids who bully her. is not ashamed to get in a little online scuffle in order to protect her ego. nobody is about to call her ugly or old or uneducated if she can help it… this, obviously, is how she ends up getting banned.

also she gets noise complaints when she plays. multiple. from you and her neighbors both, she just completely forgets about volume when someone says that she’s probably lying about having a wife… but it is a little bit cute to know that she’s doing it in your honor.

it would take her FOREVER to figure out voice chat. she doesn’t know how to do it off the top of her head, so she googles how to do it but can’t find a straight answer. goes running around the house in search of her passport because she thinks that’s what she needs but you’re just like “babe… enter your phone number and it’ll let you… that’s all you need to do…”

dress to impress:

playing with her would be so fun because she does not know her way around anything. you’d force her on to dress to impress and she’d be so lost. is not aware that there’s a time limit or a theme to follow. by the end of the round she’s still gray and her outfit is half finished and she’s like “what is it doing?? why is there a runway??? i wasn’t done with my outfit.”

the people in the chat would respond like “bruh what is this” or “oh!” to her outfit, but you’re there to back her up and vote her 5 stars anyways <33. but if they start to get too mean, she’ll force you to tell her how to use the chat and she’ll type something like “fuck you guys at least i have a wife” which of course comes out as all ####.

and when she sees all of the tags, she’d be like “what the hell?? i didn’t type that 😭” and you’d have to gently explain to her that it’s because roblox filters certain things you say, especially like “fuck you” and probably every other thought that came to her mind when she was typing it.

ofc you and her would both get first and second place because you vote each other 5 stars, even though her outfits are… well… you know… not the prettiest…

murder mystery:

if you thought her in dress to impress was bad, it gets WORSE. no matter how many times you explain to her the rules of the game, she is LOST, as well as every single synonym for confused in the dictionary. perplexed. puzzled. stupefied. dumbfounded. all of the above.

as an innocent, she’d probably just follow you the whole time, waiting until the sheriff kills the murderer or time runs out.

as the murderer, she’d probably tell on herself IMMEDIATELY. has her microphone on in voice chat and says “what does it mean that i’ll get my weapon in 10 seconds??” and she’s shot before the round even lasts half a minute. either that or she’d keep it to herself, but walk around with her knife out the whole time absolutely cluelessly. she probably thinks that others can’t see it, or maybe she can’t see it herself.

she’d be like “babe i’m so scared :( i wonder who the murderer is…” and she’s standing in front of you like 🤷🏽‍♀️🔪 LMAOOO

as the sheriff, she’d either shoot some random person who walks past her and die for getting it wrong, or she’d freak out and spam 100 different buttons while trying to shoot the murderer. she’s jumping and running around, screaming at the top of her lungs because she’s so scared, clicking her screen in every place but where the murderer is standing.

with others:

imagine jinx and isha existing in this universe, she’d drain her whole bank account on robux for the 3 of them 😭 but, and as much as she’d HATE to admit this, she actually really enjoys playing with them.

isha is still learning how to spell, so her and jinx would cackle at everything the poor girl types coming out as straight hashtags. especially when she’s fighting with someone, they’d both watch her get heated and absolutely smash her little fingers into her ipad keyboard trying to type things out, but then comfort her when she gets too frustrated to continue.

also, if isha ever gets hit with “you’re probably a 5 year old” from someone, sevika would be like “yeah, she is 😭” but jinx would stand up for her and type out PARAGRAPHS about how isha is so young and still better than whoever insulted her. jinx 100% has memorized all of the words that roblox flags, so she has no problem facing the hashtags.

they’re also such bad influences on your wife, they manage to convince her to buy more robux for them almost every week. you’ve caught her up in the middle of the night, phone sideways in her hand running around in a new game she’s found. you try taking your family out to dinner and they all just pull out their phones (isha, her ipad, still too young for a personal phone) and hop onto some new game jinx found. it’s adorable, yes, but definitely not the best habit she’s ever formed.

#if u guys see me playing sevika obby every day… no you don’t…#sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x female reader #arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends

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meliciousmel13 · 3 months ago

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: ̗̀➛ lotus eater

did you figure it out?? : ̗̀➛ who's the mystery now?

based on this song by FINNEAS, since the new album came out and i love it!!

warnings: fluff, smut, eating out (r receiving).

wc: 2,534 - kinda long but let me cook

SYNOPSIS: you hate her. don't you? it's just a coincidence isn't it?? madison was being nice for some reason.

taglist: @guysimgay164, @madisonbeerssecretwife @bandanamatt

an: :)) for the people who voted for madison smut in my poll since i think you guys are a little deprived. if your looking forward to the billie one it's in the makes! this was in my drafts since before the poll.

you and madison were enemy’s. everyone knew. nobody wanted to get involved and nobody wanted to touch you. why? because the last boy you had the fortune to talk to (who was nice), went missing. or, was avoiding you for a reason you didn’t know.

you knew nothing about her. all you knew was that she was a kind and sweet girl. you saw her interviews. you didn’t want to. but the fact that her music was kind of good and she was kind of pretty. led you to watching one of her interviews. you didn’t want to admit it but she was kind of funny.

you were at an award show now and you found your seat just to be greeted with the woman you wanted to avoid. you were wondering if they sat you in the same table because they didn’t know? maybe they forgot?

you sat down, vexed. she glanced at you and continued talking with someone you didn’t know. you wanted to ask to change seats but you knew that the people who were actually in charge of the seating chart wanted you guys to either fight, or pretend to like each other.

you wanted to do none. you didn’t want to pretend. you didn’t even want to talk to the brunette. knowing that if you did, her snarky attitude would somehow come across as nice to some 47 year old asshole sitting behind a screen.

you cross your arms and lay back on the soft seat, looking around the venue until she spoke, “what are you doing here?” she asked, condescendingly, turning to you while her friend went off.

“this is my seat.” you answer. you didn’t want to talk to her. you thought if you paid her no mind then she wouldn’t talk to you. but no. she always had too much to say. couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“oh.. are you sure? did you double check?” she asked, again. you double checked. triple checked, quadruple checked. of course you did. why the hell would you wanna sit next to her?

“yes, i checked.” you scoffed.

“you don’t have to be so negative. this is good right?” you wanted to punch her.

no. it’s not good. “i guess.” you muttered, going back on yourself and actually talking to her.

the award show went great. besides the soft murmurs of an angry night. madison was commentating everything, saying the obvious and talking to you the whole night. you wanted to go home. get rid of her obnoxiously sweet voice in your ear and maybe eat a tub of ice cream.

but you didn’t get to enjoy the luxury which was your own bed because you had to go to the after party. your manager had everything ready. the short dress and—you were so tired. not physically. but because of the fact that someone was talking your ears off.

madison decided to stay in the same car as you. you didn’t even get to stare outside the window with some much needed alone time. she took your headphones off and wanted you to really listen to whatever she was saying.

you tilt your head back on the soft cushion of the chair and took deep breaths. the more she spoke the more your headache grew.

you open the door to the outside frantically, almost begging to feel the cold air on your skin. you did. but the flashing lights that invited you weren’t welcoming. home home home.

she took your hand and you wanted to pull away. the sight of cameras stopped you. but also because her hands were soft. if they belonged to another you would’ve been thrilled.

you walk through the large doors of the establishment and you finally pulled away as the security guards prevented photographers from entering and everyone else.

“why the fuck did you do that?” you asked angrily.

“what did i do?” she asked. and your frustration was through the roof. the squinting was making your headache worse and the bright lights too.

you groaned, loudly, she was so frustrating that if you spoke another word you might actually explode. she giggled. she fucking giggled. you were mad and she was laughing.

“are you seriously laughing?” you questioned, and she shook her head.

“s’ nothing,” she rolled her eyes,“we should head in now we might be late.” she said.

“who the hell is we?—” she took your wrist and dragged you inside.

you’ve never regretted your life choices more. this was way worse then the award show. here they had flashing bright colors and loud charlie xcx songs blasting through the speakers. madison pulled you to the drinks bar and you’ve grown tired of her dragging you around. but you continue to let her.

“uh, two cherry colas—” she said and you looked at her with a bewildered expression. a nonalcoholic drink. a nonalcoholic drink.

“no.” you interrupted.

“but—”

“no.” you crossed your arms, “i’ll have a Sex on the Beach. she can have a cherry coke.” you said to bartender and he nodded, getting ready to make your drinks.

“for the contrary, cherry colas are really good,” she said, and you nodded, rubbing your temples., “headache?” she asked. you nodded. “why would you drink alcohol then.” she rolled her eyes again and called the bartender. telling him to cancel your drink and opting to getting you water.

“here.” she breathed out, helping you sip out the glass cup until it was empty.

“why’re you being so nice to me?”

her expression changed. mouth slightly agape and it made you even more curious. the once cruel woman was suddenly helping you with your ever growing headache that she started. her eyes dart across the room to look at anything but you. avoiding your question.

she mumbled something you couldn’t hear, so you bring your face closer to hear her better but she groaned, “you always fucking do that—” she grabbed your wrist till her knuckles were white and led you to a janitors closet near the exit of the party.

“do what?—” you were cut off by her kissing you.

oh, that’s what she meant. she tilted her head to kiss you better and you didn’t know what to do. you were confused. not knowing where to put your hands so you place them on her shoulders. her lips were soft. and she smelt like angles and fairy dust.

you wanted to let out a word, you wanted to push her away you wanted and wanted but you never did anything. you let her kiss down your neck and up your jaw you let her. she griped your hips tightly and traced the hem of your dress.

“madison—” you pull her head away from your neck by softly tugging her hair, and she groaned. as if being separated from you was equivalent to having her lollipop taken from her hands. was she crying? because you swore you saw tears in her eyes when you pulled her away.

her lip gloss was smudged on your neck and her mascara was ruined, some of it probably on your neck too, she was undoubtedly messy. “what?” she asked.

“talk to me.”

“are you stupid?” she said, and you flinched, “do you still not know why i pulled you in here? i mean— I’ve never seen someone as stupid as you.” you stayed silent, she pulled her hands away from your hips and you almost missed them. she sighed and paced around the small room.

“i like you.” then everything made sense. like the flood of questions in your mind were answered with three words. the reason no one approached you was because everyone knew she liked you? is that why you were sat next to each other? the reason the boy stopped talking to you was because she told him off?

“do you know how obvious i made it for you? like— i might as well be screaming i love you at this point—” she wanted you. she really really wanted you.

you initiated the kiss this time. you didn’t have to say it back she knew. you wanted her too.

the kiss quickly grew heated, the loud sighs and whimpers—mostly from you, because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, “madison.” you breathe out, knees going weak and without the support of her hands under your thighs you would’ve collapsed on the dirty floor.

“yeah?” her eyes darkened, the filthy noises—just saying her name that way was driving her insane.

“do something.” you said. the uncomfortable wetness in your underwear was growing the longer she looked at you that way, like she wanted to devour you whole.

she parted your legs and put her knee between them, removing her hands from your thighs and actually letting you sit on it. you quickly regained your composure and actually used your legs to stand.

“can i take this off?” she toyed with the hem of your dress. you didn’t know why she was asking.

“yes.” you answered, and she pulled the dress up above your hips—now crumpled on you waist. she looked at your underwear then your eyes, asking for conformation. you nod. and she pulled the black lacy underwear to the side.

you wore it for yourself, no one in peculiar but you don’t regret it because she griped the underwear so tightly you were scared it was going to rip. you tried helping her pull it down your legs but she refused. you looked too pretty. depending on her knee to stay up and mouth agape. so. fuckin’. pretty.

“ma—” you yelped when she removed her knee, quickly holding you up—she didn’t want her pretty girl to fall now. her pretty girl. you were hers.

she brushed her thumb on your clit and you bite your lip, one of her hands were on your hips holding you up and the other was dragging up and down on your heat, “you’re so wet.” she mumbled into your neck while sucking hickies onto it. your cheeks flush and your skin was sweaty because you were nervous but also because it was hot in here. you were wet. and she didn’t even do anything yet.

“tell me your mine.” she pulled away from your neck and rubbed harshly on your clit. you grip her shoulders tightly.

“m’ yours.” you whine when she legs go of her hand on your hips, you almost fall, but grab a hold of her leather jacket in time. desperately trying to wrap your legs around her waist but she doesn’t even help you, she just holds your chin and tilts it upwards.

“i can’t hear you.” her thumb on your clit slows down and you groan, the long acrylic nails were scratching on your jaw.

“i’m yours!” you half-scream, surprised no one barged in the room yet.

madison smiled, “that’s right baby.” she rasped out, and you had to hold back a moan at the name, “why’re you holding back?”

“because someone might come in.” you sigh and she bites her lower lip.

“you shouldn’t care about them, kay?” she sank to her knees, and you almost came, because she looked so good looking up at you, “can’ moan all you want baby.” oh god. she lifted your thigh on her shoulder and you arch your back.

she hummed while running her tongue up your pussy, her knees probably dying. she held your whole body up and you were curious how strong she actually was.

you moan, and she looked up at you, so focused on your taste she forgot to focus on you. “look at me.” she kissed and nipped at your thighs. you do, for a while but you gasp and cover your face once she brings your clit to her lips, “look at me, please.” she half begged.

you let out a small ‘mhph’ and pull your hand from your face, nothing was covering the pornographic look on your face now. you were panting, brows furrowed and a small drop of sweat rolling down your face. you tilted your head to see her better.

“fuck.” she moaned. you run your hands through her hair, gripping once she sucked harshly on your clit—ruining the hair that probably took over 4 people to do, she let you. and you’ve never had that much power before. you could ruin her if you wanted. and she would let you. because she loved you.

she desperately wanted to plunge her fingers deep inside you but her annoyingly long nails restricted her from doing so. they were cute and all, but her knees were killing her. she ignored the pain though, she’d do anything for you.

madison couldn’t breathe. all she could feel, smell and taste was you. she didn’t care though, if she could die between your thighs then she’d die happy. her cheeks were squeezed between them and you’ve never seen something so beautiful.

she tapped your thigh lightly and you part your legs, not wanting to to cut off her breathing. you whimper and buck your hips to her mouth when she entered her tongue in you. she held your hips and you scratched at her scalp.

“m’ gonna cum.” you whimper, your entire upper body was a mess. hickies on the side of your neck and collar bones, some ever scattered above your breasts. even your lip stick was stained and out of place.

“yeah? gonna cum f’ me?” she asked, digging crescent moons into your thighs from how she was gripping it. she raspy voice sent vibrations up your pussy, and you pushed her face even closer, she didn’t stop you though, she enjoyed it.

madison pushed down your lower stomach and dug her tongue even deeper, “oh— fuck, madison.” you moan, feeling madison hum, and that pushed you over the edge. squirting all over her face. she licked up every drop. feeling over simulated, you push her away from her head, “can’t.” you breathe out.

“good?” she said, you nodded and madison stood up stumbling, “are your knees okay?” you asked, concerned.

“yeah i’m fine,” she fixed her hair, smoothing it back and fixing her clothes, “come here.” she took your hips and pulled you closer, helping put your panties back in place and your dress down your thighs.

“thank you.” you mumble, while she wiped the smudged lipstick across your mouth and the lip gloss from your neck, “madison.” you laugh, seeing her lower face completely covered in arousal.

“what?” she asked innocently, like she didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life.

“your face.”

“what about it?” she licked her lips. messy eater.

after you both cleaned up, you came out of the janitors closet, getting weird looks from most people but you drag her outside and tell your driver to take you home. this time, with her.

“so,” she dug her hands into her jacket pockets, “what are we now?” she asked, hopeful.

you hum, pretending to think about it, madison groans, and you laugh, “i’m kidding! your my girlfriend right?” you ask, hopeful.

“yeah, your my girlfriend.”

#madison beer x you #madison beer #madison beer smut #madison beer x reader #madison elle beer #madison beer x y/n #madison beer fanfic

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incendiobrock · 8 months ago

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Sleep Paralysis {Chris Sturniolo}

Summary: Chris struggles with bad nightmares and sleep paralysis, his girlfriend (reader) is there one night to calm him down after a bad dream. ⭐️Inspired by episode 19 of their podcast where Chris talks about his struggles with sleep paralysis and nightmares!!⭐️

Warnings: guns, mentions of death, sleep paralysis (nothing too descriptive!!)

The cabin was quiet, only the noise of the crickets chirping outside were heard through the walls. It was pitch black out, barely any stars shining through the cloudy sky. Chris walked through the halls in search of you. He poked his head inside the bedroom, the door creaking as it slowly opened into the vacant room.

Chris felt his heart pound against his chest as he realized that another room had been checked and you were still gone. Where the hell could you be this late at night? Chris thought about texting his brothers, maybe this one on one vacation wasn’t a good idea.

As Chris stood in the hall, right in front of the slight ajar bedroom door, a faint banging noise sounded from somewhere across the dimly lit cabin.

“Y/n? Is that you?” Chris called out, his eyes scavenging his surroundings. Slowly, he began walking towards the back of the cabin. The pounding of his heart was leaving him breathless as he struggled to retain any air. He stopped in his tracks when a low rumble of thunder caused the floors to shake.

“Fuck.” Chris mumbled under his breath, the power cutting out and leaving him in complete darkness, not that there was much light in this place to begin with. His hand dug into his pant pocket, fishing out his phone and bringing it up in front of him so he could use the flashlight. After a shaky breath, he made his way down into the basement determined to find the breaker.

The basement was cold and eerie, even more so than the rest of the building. The stairs squeaked on every step, the walls were stone and bare, and there were spiderwebs in every corner. Nobody in their right mind would ever go to the basement but Chris had to turn the lights back on so he could continue his search for you. You were more important to him than whatever could be lurking in the darkness of the basement.

Chris eventually found the breaker box which was tucked in the back corner of the foreboding basement, his hand was shaking violently with nerves as he tried to keep his phone flashlight still. He flipped the switch, the generator rumbled but the lights remained off. “Come on stupid thing, work will ya?” Chris cussed under his breath, flipping the switch again and again. Darkness still consumed the boy and his worries were becoming worse.

Chris slammed the breaker box closed with a grunt, shakily making his way back up the stairs to the main level of the cabin. When he found his way back into the living room he glanced out the window, looking down the long driveway to the house. His eyes squinted as he stepped closer to the glass, bringing his hand up to block any glare and get a closer look outside.

In the middle of the driveway you stood frozen in fear, a taller man, dressed in all black, with a mask over his face, held you tightly in front of his chest. A gun was pressed firmly to your temple. Chris immediately felt tears slide down his cheeks as his brain raced trying to think of what he could do to save you.

Without much thought, Chris was speeding towards the front door, throwing it open and making his way to the driveway. "Chris! Please help me!" Your voice shrieked, filling his ears with the unnerving sound of your quivering voice. He wanted to respond back, let you know that he was there and that everything was alright, but his mouth failed him. No matter how much he wanted to speak, he couldn't get out any words.

Chris continued to come towards you and the mysterious man, ready to push him off of you and hold you close in his arms. He wasn't ready to lose you. He had almost reached you when all of a sudden a loud boom echoed through the desolate forrest, your body falling to the ground in an instant.

"No!" Chris' body shot up in bed, his hand coming up over his chest as he heaved in some air. In an instant, you were awake beside him, startled by his scream and abrupt movements.

"Chris, baby- What happened?" You asked urgently, wrapping the boy in a hug and holding him tight as he clung onto you like a koala. His breathing was sporadic and you could feel his tears soak through your shirt as he nuzzled his head into your chest.

"He had you. There was a g-gun, you fell to the ground... Oh my God, I th-thought I had l-lost you." Chris said between sobs. Your heart tore listening to him cry. Since you had been together, you quickly learned that Chris had horrible, vivid, nightmares as well as sleep paralysis. He had told you numerous dreams that involved his closest friends and family dying.

"Shh baby, I'm right here. It was just a dream, I promise." You whispered, rubbing his back and trying to get him to calm his breathing. As you rubbed comforting circles on his back he began to relax, "Am I awake?" He whispered, looking up at you as you both sat in the bed. "You're awake, I'm okay." You replied, giving him a soft, reassuring smile. One of your hands reached up to wipe away some of his tears, showing him that you were really there.

Chris moved to lay back down, facing the bedroom wall. You laid back down too, beginning to spoon Chris. His long, wavy locks fell across his face before you started to run your fingers through it slowly, moving it out of the way. "Go back to sleep Chris. I'm not going anywhere, I love you."

"I love you more..." He said barely above a whisper, sleep taking over his body once again.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic

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imagine-darksiders · 1 month ago

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Absolute Anarchy

A Darksiders/SCP Foundation crossover nobody asked for but is here regardless.

Summary: SCP-8103. Object class; undetermined. There's a new entity at the Foundation. Four D-Class have already been supplied with weapons and pitted against it, only to be cut down before they could get more than a couple of shots in. Eager to determine which calibre of rifle can pierce its armour, they send you in next - D-1935 - to accomplish what your predecessors couldn't. It's too bad they never taught you how to actually use the rifle...

This has the vague semblance of a plot btw, but I'm trying not to be too finicky, and just to write as it comes to me, so hopefully it'll still be easy enough to follow and enjoyable at the same time.

Tw: Blood, guns, death, imprisonment, threat, violence, trapped, typical SCP violence.

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

If there was ever a moment where you should have felt the stars aligning to determine the path your life might take, it would have to be the moment you decided to steal that godforsaken sports car.

It was an instance born of desperation – a tantalising lure cast by the owner of a chop-shop who made heartfelt promises to lift you out of poverty, only to throw you under the proverbial bus when the heat ventured too close to his illicit operation.

He only wanted the money from that Ferrari.

You reduced yourself to grand theft auto for a chance to escape the homeless shelter and land on your feet.

And where did you land instead?

Behind bars, that’s where. Tossed into some dingy prison that seemed only built for the sole purpose of hiding away society’s miserable, forgotten dregs.

You thought you knew what rock bottom looked like.

How were you to know the depths this pitiless world could drag you down to?

“D – One-nine-three-five!”

A strident voice bellows a set of all-too familiar numbers at what must be the top of his already bursting lungs. The door to your cell is wrenched violently open, spilling light into a room that’s a damn sight smaller and bleaker than the one they pulled you from in St Ives.

Bureaucracy had been your ultimate enemy, in the end. A signature in the wrong place, a ‘t’ dotted where it should have been crossed, and an ‘i’ absent from your paperwork had all lead you to a place you couldn’t have imagined in your most turbulent nightmares. A place that shouldn’t - and so far as the public is aware - doesn’t exist.

The SCP Foundation.

Specifically, site 12; a rancorous offshoot of what you’ve come to learn through eavesdropping and rumour, is a worldwide operation.

It turns out the people in charge here couldn’t less of give a hoot whether you’re a petty thief or a renowned and unrepentant serial killer. If your name is on their list, they won’t bother to see a difference. You’re all Disposables, in the end, and no amount of pleas for your innocence or requests for an evaluation will get you any closer to that glorious taste of freedom.

You’ll serve your time or die trying. And as of yet, you haven’t heard of anyone who’s reached the end of their ‘sentence.’

The bed springs underneath you shriek with relief as you scramble up onto your feet, nearly tripping over the long hems of your jumpsuit.

Heart thundering like a jackhammer, you cower before the imposing shape silhouetted in your doorway, warily eyeing the M9 Beretta that’s being aimed directly at your forehead.

You’d hoped that by now the guards here would have learned that you’re not a threat. Hell, it didn’t take you long to figure out that anybody even vaguely considered a troublemaker in this place will earn themselves a one-way ticket to a fate that would make you beg for a bullet between the eyes.

That first week, you ended up trying to plead your case to the wrong scientist and wound up on the bi-weekly rota to clean SCP-173’s cell. Twice.

How you got out of there with your neck facing the right way is one of life’s greatest mysteries. If it hadn’t gone for your poor cellmate first…

“You listening, Scuzz!?” The handgun jerks to the left of your doorway. “Get your ass outta that cell!”

Ah... Mullins. One of the guards assigned to your particular block.

A meaner son of a bitch, you’ve never known. Rumour has it that the towering brute used to be a D-Class, like you, but through shows of force, an unflinching disregard for his fellow man, and an uncanny ability to survive, the Lab Coats bumped him up to guard status, if for no other reason than to keep the inmates in line.

You’re loathe to admit it, but he is damn good at his job.

Ducking your head, you scurry from your bed through the open door, pressing yourself as close to the frame as possible to squeeze past the Beretta that he keeps trained on your head. You don’t even have to look at him anymore to know that there’s a wide smirk on his face when he jabs the barrel at the back of your skull, shoving you into an awkward stumble down the hallway.

“Move. Got a new assignment for you today,” he goads, falling into step behind you, his thick, rubber boots thudding purposefully on the linoleum.

In contrast, your plimsoles make rather pathetic ‘slaps’ with each, hurried step you take.

You know the drill by now. Head down. Eyes front. Mouth shut.

You’ve walked this path to the lifts a hundred times before.

It's been weeks since you stopped asking him when you can go home.

‘When you’ve served your sentence,’ became ‘When we damn well feel like it,’ became ‘You still think you’re getting out of here?’

“SCP-Eight-One-Oh-Three~,” Mullins sing-songs at your back, entirely too cheerful all of a sudden, “This one just came in. The Lab coats don’t know nothin’ about it. And guess who’s the lucky little D-Scuzz who gets to ‘further the advancement of science?”

Although your body trembles like a leaf in a hurricane, you don’t make a sound, not even when the moisture in your eyes wells up into a fat, salty teardrop and breaks over the dam of your lash line, carving a damp path down your grubby cheek.

An unknown SCP?

Your odds of making it to the end of the day in one piece have just plummeted into the single digits, and you once again find yourself asking, 'why me?'

‘We’re doing this for the good of humanity,’ one doctor with a particularly punchable face had once announced to a room full of orange-clad prisoners, and you can still remember wondering when you and your fellow inmates stopped being a part of that same Humanity this Foundation seems to keen to protect.

The cold steel of a gun jabs you again in the base of your neck, pushing a quiet sound of protest from your lips that you hurriedly clamp down on, fists balling up at your sides.

“That’s right!” Mullins continues, “Damn, you gotta be feelin’ proud as a peacock, kid. Not every day someone gets to be the first to make contact. Hell, maybe you’ll get lucky, and it’ll be a Euclid.”

The row of lifts appears as you turn the next corner and come to a stop obediently in front of the closest one, head still hanging nearly to your chest as you wait for Mullins to reach past you and jam his thumb on the ‘down’ button.

“Wouldn’t bet on it though… That thing has Keter written all over it.”

With the damning chime of a bell, the heavy, metal doors slide open, and Mullins shoves you roughly into the claustrophobic space with one fist to your spine. Jesus, trapped in this finite space with him, the smell of cheap brand cigarettes wafts from his jacket and drifts up into your nose, sitting stale and musty on the back of your tongue.

The walls are dull in here, unreflective, which you nearly count as a blessing.

It means you don’t have to see the mess you’ve become.

----

It’s only when you’re standing outside the containment cell that you realise Mullins was either lying, or just plain wrong.

You aren’t the first D-Class to make contact with this SCP.

In fact, if the stiff-faced scientist shoving a rifle into your hands is to be believed, you’re precisely the fifth.

“That,” he begins with an aloof air of bored professionalism, watching impassively while you fumble to find purchase on the heavy gun, “Is the CZ-Five-Fifty. And today, you will be testing its armour-piercing capabilities.”

‘Armour?’ you think, swallowing thickly, ‘What the Hell kind of monster have they brought into this place?’

The cold circle of steel still pressed to your shoulder blade reminds you of Mullins’s unpleasant presence.

“No funny business,” he growls, “You couldn’t get the safety off before I put you down like a lame bitch.”

Charming.

You don’t fancy telling him you couldn’t get the safety off anyway. And that it... hadn't occurred to you to even try and turn it on him and the scientist, though it probably should have been the first thing you thought of.

The weapon sits like a dead weight in your hands, heavy and fundamentally useless. You don’t know how to fire a gun, let alone one this powerful.

But the scientist doesn’t seem to know that, lazily racking off the terms of your contract and your ‘obligation’ to the Foundation.

Yes, you imagine it would get tiresome having to rehash the same speech five times in a row… Perhaps he just assumes you know how to use it?

Bastard.

Wetting your lips, you peel them apart and croak out a question, wincing at the pathetic crack in your voice, dry and reedy from disuse. “What happened to the others?”

At that, the scientist’s lips purse, and an eyelid twitches then settles.

They all hate being interrupted. Especially by a D-Class.

At least the guards acknowledge your autonomy through rage and demeaning names and acts of violence.

To the Lab Coats, you’re just cannon-fodder. Nothing. Empty vessels for them to use as they see fit.

Even so, the one in front of you straightens up and peers down the length of his nose at you, sighing as though he were trying to explain the concept of algebra to a dog. “The D-Class personnel-“ he begins, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in a scoff. ‘Personnel’ is a funny way of pronouncing ‘Prisoners.’

“-who came before, all failed their assignments.”

Behind you, Mullins pipes up with a distinguishable sneer. “Emptied their whole clips into the thing before they got turned into Swiss cheese.”

Oh… God.

“Didn’t even make a dent,” he concludes, sounding not in the least bit sad to have wasted four lives.

“Yes, well-“ the scientist clears his throat, “The first step to knowing your enemy is knowing how to kill it. And the supplied Rugers proved… ahem… inefficient. But at least we now know the three-five-seven calibre isn’t strong enough. We’re hoping the point six hundred will be.”

“Six hundred Overkill…” Mullins whistles appreciatively. “Elephant killers.”

Your stomach twists into a tight, clenching ball. You think you might be sick if there was anything to bring up except bile.

So, this is the SCP that finally kills you.

Shit.

In a whirlwind of sudden, dizzying movements and barked orders, you’re unceremoniously surrounded by three more guards who bodily ‘escort’ you into the loading dock – an empty room set in the midway of two descending doors that are made from several feet of a solid titanium alloy. The primary door slides open with a mechanical hiss, and you’re shoved roughly into the space between it and the secondary door.

On trembling knees, you gape up at the grey metal, noting with no small degree of alarm that it’s tall and wide enough to admit the shipping container of something titanic.

Above your head on the wall, an orange light pulses as the primary door slams shut behind you, and the sound of enormous locks sliding into place fills the room. Your rifle almost slips from your grasp, leaving you to fumble for it with sweat-slicked palms.

The drawback of not being a hardened death-row inmate is that when it comes to moments of great danger, you’re inclined to neither fight nor flee.

Instead, worst of all, you’re the type to freeze solid.

Now is no exception.

As the light flashing above you turns green, signalling for the second door to ascend into its slot high in the ceiling, your spine promptly goes rigid, fingers locking up around the gun whilst your feet turn to two blocks of cement.

All of a sudden, you can’t help but let out a shriek when something flops down onto the ground on your side of the door once it’s been raised a couple of feet, and at first, you assume something is trying to crawl through the space to get at you.

Once you realise what the dark object actually is, you almost wish your initial assumption had been correct.

What lays on the ground, spread across the threshold between the dock and the cell, is a body. ‘A human body!’ your addled brain registers.

Or what’s left of a human…

Swiss cheese might not have been an exaggeration after all.

Entry and exit holes have torn the poor bastard apart from head to toe, shredding to ribbons what remains of a grubby, orange jumpsuit, much like the one you’re currently garbed in. Bones and muscle and sinew show through torn flaps of skin, and the stench of blood mingles with gun smoke, seeping into your nostrils before you can scrunch your nose up to block it out. You could have done without the acrid taste of iron resting on the back of your tongue.

‘That’s gonna happen to me,’ you gasp silently, choking on a sob, unable to tear your gaze from the body, ‘Oh god, that’ll be me in a minute!’

Jesus Christ, they hadn’t even waited for the blood to dry, the assholes!

With a ‘click’ and a ‘thud,’ the door slides gracefully to a halt, utterly and completely open, exposing you to whatever entity lays in wait beyond the threshold. The fear of what lies ahead outweighs your horror of seeing a fellow D-Class on the ground. In an instant, you wrench your eyes away from the body and gape out into the room in front of you.

Sturdy, grey walls lit by an overhead fluorescent light are a familiar view, as are the bloodstains spattered across the stone slabs.

The pockmarks littering the adjacent wall are new however, each about the size of your fist. There are hundreds of them, like someone took a gatling gun and sprayed it all over the cell. They look… far too large to have been made by any ordinary rifle…

A hard blink sends twin tracks of tears leaking down your face. The room beyond angles sharply to the left right outside the door, and it plucks at your frayed nerves to realise you can’t see what’s around the corner…

Nearby, facedown on the floor just several feet from the entrance, is the second body, a gun laying close to their side and an arm outstretched towards you, their final act in the throes of death. They must have skidded around the corner and were making for the door when they were cut down…

Despite the carnage, the cell is eerily silent, not a breath nor a shift to give away where the SCP might be.

Is it lurking just around the bend to ambush you?

Is it seconds away from tearing into the pocket of space and doing to you whatever it did to these sorry sods?

Aside from quivering fit to bust, you can’t move a muscle.

You won’t.

You won’t go in there, they can’t –!

“D-Class!”

A sharp staccato shout is thrown from a speaker in the corner of the dock, causing you to nearly leap out of your skin. But worse than your visceral flinch is the sound the voice elicits from something inside the cell.

It’s like a roll of thunder, soft then loud then soft again, a guttural growl, so rich and deep it shakes the walls and travels up through your plimsoles, undulating across each section of your spine until you can feel it hum behind your eyes.

The reverb hasn’t even faded before the same voice barks, “Proceed into the containment chamber at once.”

“To Hell with that!” you retort, feet still rooted firmly to the ground.

“You will proceed or you will be reassigned.”

It’s a threat that’s worked before.

And Hell… It works again now.

Reassignment is an absolute. A guaranteed death sentence. At least in here, even with an unknown entity, there’s a slim, albeit nearly imperceptible change of survival or at the very least, a quick death. Besides, the previous victims look well and truly dead, and that’s frankly a fate that’s a Hell of a lot better than becoming a living hive for a colony of insects or a tumour-riddled larder for giant, cave-dwelling rodents.

“D-Class. You have precisely three seconds to-“

The inescapable terror of a worse ending is your greatest motivator down here. You don’t even wait for the countdown to start.

Heaving in a wet breath, you squeeze your eyes halfway shut and yank one leg stiffly into the air, planting it forwards, once, twice, three times until you pass the body on the threshold and step out into the cell. Into the open. Like a doe entering a meadow when she damn well knows there are hunters lurking in the trees nearby.

Your eyes are still clenched almost shut when you turn yourself to the left and spot the remaining pair of bodies, one almost laying on top of the other, weapons still locked in their cold, dead hands,

Another, blood-curdling growl blasts through the air around you, sudden and violent enough to nearly send you toppling over onto your backside.

Flinging your eyes open with a gasp, you immediately wish you’d kept them closed instead. You wish the SCP had just killed you outright.

You wish you never stole that wretched car.

You were expecting big.

This SCP is bigger.

You can see why the scientists want to find a calibre that can pierce armour.

The creature that hunches before you, eating up ample space between the floor and the ceiling dozens of feet overhead, is almost solid metal from top to bottom. And armoured, you realise in horror, covering flashes of grey, scaly skin the colour of iron.

Bipedal, is the second thing you note, towering all the way to the roof on a pair of long, lithe legs, each ending in a three-toed foot with claws that remind you of some long extinct theropod.

A scrawny waist feeds into a contrarily powerful chest and monumental shoulders that are made even larger by the armoured struts encasing them.

Your eyes, wider than saucers, travel along the length of its arms – the first hanging down to its bent knee with a hand that looks large enough to wrap around your whole body and crush you between its fingers. The other arm, however, doesn’t end in a hand – clawed or otherwise.

It ends instead, from the elbow down, in a four barrelled gun the size of cannon.

And all four of those chambers are aimed directly and unwaveringly at you.

Behind the sights, several cylinders spin over one another like a minigun ramping up to fire, clanking angrily in an obvious threat.

You don’t dare pull in a breath, not when your gaze locks onto one of the chambers of the gun arm, and from somewhere deep in the pits of those long barrels, a dim, red glow sparks to life, the same light you imagine the fires of Hell would kick out if Satan ever eventually sets foot in this horrible place.

And that’s without even mentioning its other apparent weapon.

You think it must be some kind of tail, arched up and over the SCP’s head like the tail of a scorpion, swaying very gently from left to right and back again. Whip-like, it tapers to a point, and from what you can see from down here, the grey of its scales beneath the armour fades into an angry red right near the tip, glowing the same colour as the lights in the barrels of its gatling arm.

Vivid images of your body being impaled on the end of that wicked appendage flicker through your mind’s eye, and you have to drop your gaze to banish them, moving on to take in the rest of the monstrosity.

A pair of metal horns sweep forwards from the sides of an avian helm, long and sleek and ending in deadly points perfect for goring, like the tusks of an elephant. There’s a mane sprouting from its back too, a vibrant purple that stands out fiercely against the silver of its armour. Each strand of hair seems to wave and snake about through the air as if they’re alive.

And then you make the mistake of meeting its gaze.

You’ve seen SCP’s with no eyes, some with too many eyes, a few that are made up entirely of eyes and even those that have eyes in places where eyes have no business being.

These though… you don’t like these eyes at all, even despite the fact there are a regular number of them.

Gold as gleaming bullion, unnaturally bright and forward-facing, all nature’s warning signs that you’re staring up into the eyes of a predator.

Once they’ve locked you in their sights, it’s nigh on impossible to tear yourself free.

The snarling visage opens up like a steel trap, baring black fangs the size of axe heads, and a burning heat behind its jaws that rises like-

“D – One-nine-three-five!”

“Shit!” You don’t mean to yelp aloud, nor do you intend to nearly drop the gun, scrambling to secure your grip on it before it can fall from your hands. In the blink of an eye, the entity’s gigantic head swings around to hiss furiously at something you’d missed completely when you stumbled into its cell.

An observation window dominates the far wall, and behind it, several figures donned in white coats stand watching, their faces only slightly blurred behind the thick – presumably bullet-proof – glass.

Just above the window on this side of the cell, another speaker has been fitted into the wall, and from it, the same nasally voice as before barks a command.

“You are to proceed with testing the Overkill’s capabilities.”

… Are they serious?

The SCP’s tail has swung around to follow its head and aims warningly at the glass, though its weaponised arm stays fixed on you.

Your own weapon remains useless, hanging from your grasp, pointed at the ground. You can’t muster the courage to raise it.

What defence could it possibly provide? What could such a tiny rifle do, really, against a weapon that made holes that size in the concrete walls?

The scientists are insane. The lot of them...

Well, to Hell with them, and to Hell with this stupid experiment.

Still blurred over by salty tears, your eyes reluctantly trail back up to the entity’s head. If you’re to die, you want to look this thing in the eye when it kills you. You might have lived as a coward, but you’re not so eager to die as one.

You’ve been afraid to defy them for so long, terrified – paralysed by the possibility of what these people might do to you in retaliation of defiance. But somehow, being here surrounded by the bodies of your fellow prisoners, knowing you’re about to meet the same fate, you can’t think of anything more satisfying than not giving the Foundation what they want.

Oh certainly, you imagine they’ll soon get some other D-Class to do the job you failed to do, but if causing the Lab Coats a mild inconvenience before you die is how they remember you, you think you’ll be okay with that.

You have to be okay with it. There’s nothing else you can be now, seconds from having your body turned into, as Mullins so eloquently put it, Swiss cheese.

Stiffening your upper lip, you aim a shaky scowl at the window, eyes bloodshot with tears and fatigue. And in an act you hope looks as rebellious as it feels, you open your arms and let the gun fall to the ground with an almighty clatter, drawing the SCP’s attention back onto yourself.

A strangled noise escapes the speakers before you hear, “D – One-nine-three-five! Retrieve your weapon at once!”

Ignoring him, you roll your gaze over to the SCP and let your arms flop defeatedly to your sides, teeth clenched shut to try and hold onto your sobs.

That enormous, horned head cocks sideways at you, and through your tear-streaked vision, you almost believe you can see its gatling arm drop ever so slightly, and the glow in its barrels fade from red-hot to warm-orange.

“Please,” you find your voice, blindly toeing a plimsole forwards and giving the gun a weak kick, listening to it slide a few feet away from you. You’re unaware that the beast’s gaze tracks your discarded weapon across the room. “Just… make it quick?”

The body closest to you still has his eyes intact, and they stare up at you from the floor, glassy and unseeing. You wonder if his death was quick. You hope so. It looks like it should have been.

The entity regards you with its wide, fiery snarl, unblinking, calculating. As the seconds tick by, you find yourself fidgeting and sparing glances between its gun and its armoured face.

What the Hell is it waiting for?

All of a sudden, two slitted nostrils appear above the SCP’s mouth, glowing with the same liquid gold that shimmers in its eyes. They flare hotly for a moment, kicking out a noisy whumph of air, and then…

Against every odd…

The SCP snatches its head away from you and… and drops its gun arm with a gruff snort, glaring at the wall opposite the scientists.

You blink once.

Seconds later, you have to blink again, clearing your vision slightly.

Why… are you still alive?

“Um…” you utter, for lack of any better ideas.

The SCP doesn’t turn to acknowledge the sound of your voice. In fact, it seems entirely adamant in subjecting the concrete wall to a fearsome glower instead as it thumps the barrels of its gun to the ground and leans its weight on that arm, its mighty chest heaving in and out with a huff.

… Perhaps you’re going mad. That’s it. That must be part of its power. It makes people go mad. Why else would you be plagued by the feeling that you’re being deliberately ignored?

On the other side of the glass, a young scientist hovers over the microphone, trembling with unprofessional agitation and apprehension.

“D-Class!” he barks shrilly, pushing down on the button so hard his fingertip turns white, “If you don’t pick up your rifle at once, I will have no choice but to-!”

“- Quiet Spencer…” Another voice - older, authoritative – snaps, causing the shrieking man to immediately fall silent and cower away from the microphone as obediently as a beaten dog. It even hushes the mutters of every other scientist in the observation room. Narrow eyes stare unblinkingly through coke-bottle spectacles, observing the interaction beyond the observation window with cool interest. “This is the longest a D-Class has survived with this specimen…” she points out, listening to the intern beside her scribble down the minutes, “I’d like to find out why.”

She watches the Disposable’s face turn towards the glass, trying to meet any of the scientists’ gazes, apparently seeking some sort of explanation to the SCP's behaviour.

Join the club.

“… Ma’am?” someone asks after several seconds pass without an answer, turning to face her, their expression inquiring.

For a further minute, she elects to stand there in silence, thoughtfully tapping a manicured nail against the microphone button, contemplating the magnificent creature and the miniscule human currently sharing a space.

Then, with a deliberate slowness, she slides her finger from the button and folds her arms, lab coat wrinkling around her elbows.

“The D-Class gets five minutes inside before extraction,” she declares, shooting a nod at her intern who scrambles to fish a stopwatch from his pocket and stabs his thumb on the button. Once she hears the sharp ‘beep,’ she returns her attention to the staff around her and adds, “No external input.”

There are murmurs of varying approval rising and falling all throughout the room, but once again, she only has eyes for the SCP.

“Let’s see if this D-Class proves more useful than the predecessors…”

---

“Hello?” you whisper-shout at the scientists behind the window, keeping the entity in the corner of your eye, “Um...”

Christ, this is awkward... "Can I... Can I leave, or...?"

Silence.

Impassive, boring silence.

Aside from the occasional motion made to scribble something down on a clipboard, none of the scientists seem inclined to offer anything more through the microphone.

Gradually, the tired muscles in your shoulder tighten.

You’ve seen this before. D-Class call it the ‘silent treatment,’ where scientists are more interested in seeing what you can find out about SCPs of your own volition.

Are you supposed to have survived for this long? Your mind races with the thought that your predecessors might have been subjected to the same thing before they met their end. You may end up a smear on the wall yet. Half of you is weary enough to hope that’s the case. You’ve just defied a direct order from one of the Lab Coats. You shudder to imagine which SCP they’ll toss you to after this.

It’s that thought alone that spurs you to take a single step towards this entity, intending to get this over with, but no sooner have you moved closer than it whips its head towards you again, and that gun is back up, the cylinders clicking furiously in response to your proximity.

You realise at once that you’d become too bold without its weapon pointed at you because now, that same fear has returned tenfold, sending you staggering backwards again to put some more distance between you and that deadly arm.

Slamming your eyes shut, you raise your hands up in front of your face, breath hitching as you wait to feel the first of many bullets slamming into your flesh.

… You count no less than ten heartbeats without feeling a thing.

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

“Two minutes to go, ma’am,” the intern quibbles at her side.

Eyes gleaming, she watches you stand shaking in front of the SCP, arms lifted in what she presumes must be surrender. “Fascinating,” she murmurs, “The entity still hasn’t fired a single round…”

“You think it’s run out of ammo?” one of the other scientists asks, bolder than his fellows in the face of their superior.

“Perhaps,” she muses, eyeing the SCP’s ‘tail’ that hangs slack behind it this time, not poised to strike over its head like a cobra, “But perhaps it’s just as likely that it won’t fire unless it’s fired upon first.”

The intern, apparently emboldened by another voice speaking up before him, says, “Um, would that class it as a Euclid then?”

Someone scoffs derisively.

“That cannot be determined at present,” she returns cooly, “We haven’t enough data… That being said...”

Stepping closer to the window, arms coming to clasp loosely behind her back, she tilts her head sideways and regards you with the mild interest of a spider watching a fly struggle in her web. “Thanks to this D-Class, we now know far more about the SCP than we did before… And all because an order was disregarded…”

“Impertinence,” someone spits.

“Initiative,” she returns sharply, the beginnings of a rare and pensive smile lifting her cheeks, “Mullins.”

The guard near the back of the room snaps to attention.

“Prepare for extraction in one minute’s time… And return our lucky D-Class to isolation. Forty-eight hours, I think. Regular meals. That should give us enough time to make arrangements for the next test.”

“Ma’am,” he grunts, moving up to the primary door.

“Er…” The intern beside her shifts on his feet, casting apprehensive glances between the SCP and the D-Class, “What is the next test…? Oh-! Um, Ma’am?”

What indeed? Her mind is already swirling with possibilities, the first of which sticks in place as she contemplates the logistics of it, turning it over and making mental arrangements that’ll need to be put in place.

“The next test?” she replies absently, gazing up at the entity’s fangs that are still being bared down at you, though it hasn’t made a move against you yet, “We’re going to see what, if anything, this SCP likes to eat.”

#darksiders #darksiders genesis #Strife x Reader #Anarchy x reader #SCP au #D-class #Already tapping up chapter 2 as we speak

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xoxochb · 1 month ago

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i just have one thing to say. breeding kink w jason.

a million times yes!!!

cw: breeding kink, unprotected piv, swearing, this is kinda short and basic tbh, there’s also a hidden joke italicized here…

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“c’mon, angel… lemme put a baby in you.”

you can’t find a coherent response to that, your mind is fuzzy with clouds, for a moment you forget where you are and what you’re doing and what’s happening and—

holy shit.

without a warning his cock slides inside of you, your back swiftly arching off the sheets at the sudden pain shooting through your veins. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. your moans reverberate throughout the room, bouncing off each of the four walls, back through yours, and then through jason. your legs begin to feel a burning sensation, your eyes prickling with burning hot tears and an inferno pit at the bottom of your tummy.

“gonna make such a pretty baby, aren’t you?”

like you can respond (but hell yes you are. with your hair and his electric blue eyes that baby’ll be a fucking star).

with each thrust he pushes himself deeper inside of you, eliciting more of your sweet sounds he’s so entirely fond of. jason is making it his new life goal to get more out of you. you hear is murmurs in your ear, your name, curses, a few ‘baby’ a few ‘pretty’ and a bunch of other incoherent words all in between. either he isn’t speaking loud enough to overcome your moans or you can’t properly focus on them anyways. or perhaps both options are correct. you take in a deep, shaky, breath, or at least attempt to. your nails dig deep holes into jason’s shoulder, the other hand pulling violently at his blond hair.

with each one of his pecks to your neck you feel his glasses hit your skin, pinching it here and there, put this makes you forget that he’s practically fully inside of you, in fact, with this knowledge (him wearing his glasses), you only wish he’d fit his full hardened length into you until it’s permanently stuck there. you laugh softly at the thought of that. but when you actually feel him further insert himself you cry out, thinking your giddy mood quickly. scratch your old thoughts, you can’t take all this.

“please, jase… I can’t- fuck.”

and every profanity in the english dictionary, your poor cunt is suffocating with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you, your velvety walls enclosing it tightly.

“jus’ lemme give you a baby, angel…”

you remain silent, simply crying in response. a fucking safest he is. you’ll kill him tomorrow— that’s only if you can walk tomorrow. your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, and jason mercilessly prolongs it for as long as possible, not even humanly, you’re beyond human by this point. you’re sure because you know nobody besides you could take in the length of his cock the same way you do. even how you did was a mystery to you.

carefully, compared to before, he slips himself out from you. your chest heaves at a rapid rate, trying to recollect yourself, brushing sweaty strands of hair from your face. silently, you wish he would’ve fucked you into a coma if you’re being honest.

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #jason grace imagines #jason grace pjo #jason grace #jason grace x you #jason grace smut #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #percy jackson x reader #riordanverse x reader #riordan universe #riordanverse

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nekropsii · 11 months ago

Text

ALPHA TROLLS RANKED BY HOW WRONG THE FANDOM AT LARGE IS ABOUT THEM:

This is a personal challenge, based entirely on my own experience and perspective, and also ranked from Most to Least Correct. I was bored, and thought this might be fun.

Putting this under a cut, because it's long as hell.

MEULIN LEIJON

People get her mostly correct, from what I’ve seen… Most of the time, fan content of Meulin is absolutely recognizable as Meulin, but her pride in her deafness + joy of learning new ways to interact with the world through/due to her disability is always removed, and I do not often see people tackle the Toxic Positivity aspect of her character. That seems less like character assassination, though, and more like a combination of people not actually playing through the Openbounds, people not being able to fathom disabled people (especially those who gained a disability later in life rather than being born disabled) being happy, and general fandom distaste for the idea of touching anything uncomfortable, especially when that uncomfortable topic is highly mundane, normalized, and potentially applicable to them or their loved ones. Meulin’s toxic positivity was, of course, commentary on Tumblr’s ecosystem at the time, so… It was much harder to touch back then.

ARANEA SERKET

People tend to get her general, broad strokes personality right, but unfortunately she gets treated pretty roughly for the crime of Being A Serket. People refuse to understand her motivations, and she often gets demonized for what she was doing around/during [S] Game Over, even though that was something she’d gotten pushed to and also was cool as fuck to watch. God forbid a woman do anything.

DAMARA MEGIDO

People are right about the racism, 100%. It is completely despicable, hard to look at, and extremely blatant. She does, however, have character outside of that. No, it isn’t “whore”, it’s more like “angry, dysfunctional abuse victim”, and she’s genuinely a very interesting and tragic character. But, again, people are right about the racism, so she gets to be placed way up here.

MEENAH PEIXES

She is such a chaotic little bastard. I love her. I really do. Please understand that she genuinely does not understand the concept of consequences. This girl didn’t have a Lusus, she didn’t have parents, it was functionally illegal to tell her “No, you can’t do that.” That would fuck up literally anyone’s moral compass. That’s not me hand waving away all the fucked up and bad shit she’s done, we all know what she did, but people tend to forget this aspect of her character and it pains me deeply, because it is a very genuinely interesting concept that I want to see more of. She’s capable of regret, we’ve seen her feel it, I just don’t think foresight is her forte. No one raised her to consider consequences, or help her experience them in a healthy way, because nobody raised her period.

Also, her ass is not butch, she is the girliest girl in the entire comic. She is about hot pink and glitter and kiss marks and unicorns and cute little puns and you will respect that. She is not masculine. Her ass is not masculine nor is she butch. Let her be her hyper-feminine self.

LATULA PYROPE

Please for the love of god there is more to her character than “Gamer Girl” and “Mituna’s Girlfriend”. You are falling for her fucking ruse. Please. Please. Please recognize that her entire character is about internalized misogyny, and being forced to overcompensate for misogyny in gaming circles as a gamer who happens to be a woman. Please. I’m begging.

KURLOZ MAKARA

His character is not that deep, it’s mostly just a string of events he is mysteriously, inexplicably involved with. The Makaras are extremely Function Over Form- their characters practically do not exist, they're mostly just plot devices that exist to push the story along. I'm sorry to Makara fans. You just invented a guy in your mind and decided he was real. He is also not that soft, though, and his relationships with both Meulin AND Mituna are not healthy. Hard to stop people from ascribing cutesy squishy lovey dynamics to random men who happened to have looked at each other once, though. Some people truly haven't graduated from 2012.

HORUSS ZAHHAK

I am begging people to consider that maybe the biggest issue here is not that he is “Bad Otherkin/Therian Representation” and is in fact maybe the fact that Hussie was actually making fun of Systems when he was writing Horuss. Because Horuss is canonically a system. He uses the word system. He uses the word switching. He uses the word host. He literally talks about his Plurality at length in extremely upfront, plain terms. I don’t know how him being “Bad Otherkin Representation” was and still is the main discourse about him. It makes me insane. That is a commentary that truly writes itself. Talk about having your priorities out of wack, honestly...

PORRIM MARYAM

No, she is not a MRA, she’s just a regular feminist who happens to live on a different planet with different politics and social hierarchies from Our Real World Earth’s USA. Whatever argument you’re about to pull out of your ass to say that she sucks is bad. She already explained what she meant by that, in more detail, very clearly, and she was right. Half the time she’s literally just giving you factual information about what Beforus was like, and literal plot synopses. She isn’t saying anything insane. She’s literally normal. I don’t know why people cannot handle or process this. Porrim has not ever said anything controversial. If you disagree with this you’re either misconstruing her on purpose or you fell for Kankri’s bait, and that’s just fucking sad at that point.

Also, she’s more than a sex object, and her tits are not huge. Honestly, half the shit she was saying was just “I am more than my sex life”, and so many people took that and made her main character trait her sex life. Just pathetic.

RUFIOH NITRAM

This man is a fucking war criminal and I will stop at nothing until he is behind bars for his crimes against Damara. Raging misogynist. Total fucking cunt. Just the worst. If I talk any more about this, this part will be 1,000 paragraphs long. But also, I’m begging people to recognize his relationship with disability, too. He was similar to Meulin in the sense that he didn’t mind his disability, and his biggest gripe with it was the way that Horuss tried to “fix” it… Which is an interesting way to expand upon how Beforus’s culling system is not only very explicitly ableist, but mimicking real world systemic ableism. I also want people to recognize that Hussie is actively having a conversation about the reclamation of slurs with Rufioh’s character, and how not letting people reclaim such language is doing nothing but giving the word power against them while stripping away their own personal agency. Rufioh’s a complicated guy, and he’s interesting and also the worst, and I am really tired of how he gets watered down to nothing but “Pretty Boy Victim Of His Inexplicably Psycho Ex”.

MITUNA CAPTOR

Holy Fucking Shit, You Guys Are Ableist.

KANKRI VANTAS

To this day I see people saying he was just Hussie making fun of SJWs. To this day. To this day people think Hussie was trying to make Every Tumblr Leftist look bad, and that he hates them Because They Are Leftists. When will people recognize him as a bootlicker to the oppressive class and the violently bigoted. When will people recognize that. When will people recognize that this is more of a commentary on the legitimate real flaws of Tumblr’s politics at the time. When. When.

When will people stop portraying him as a lovey-dovey Catholic Whore. I’m going to stab my fucking eyes out and then kill everyone in this building. Me when it's based and cool to ship an aroace character with a sexual predator. I GUESS.

CRONUS AMPORA

I say this with every ounce of sincerity I can possibly muster as a person: What the literal actual fuck.

#homestuck #homestuck fandom #alpha trolls #beforan trolls #dancestors #damara megido #rufioh nitram #mituna captor #kankri vantas #meulin leijon #porrim maryam #latula pyrope #aranea serket #horuss zahhak #kurloz makara #cronus ampora #meenah peixes #nekro.pdf #nekro.txt

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phoward89 · 9 months ago

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Based on this ask

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, obsessive!Coriolanus, manipulation, murder, unplanned pregnancy

You’re by yourself in the house you share with your little sister Maude Ivory and your cousins whenever a loud series of knocks sounded on it. Oh god, you hope it wasn't Billy Taupe coming around to torment (woo) Lucy Gray again.

Hell, he moved out of the Covey house and into the Mayor’s house to live with Mayfair as soon as Lucy Gray was shoved onto that train’s cattle car headed to the Capitol to be tribute in the Hunger Games. Just because she won; came back in one piece, doesn't mean that he has the right to come around. Begging her to take him back, even though he has no intentions on leaving Mayfair.

Why would he? He's got it made by shacking up with the Mayor's daughter. Hell, being with Mayfair means he never has to work again.

Sighing, you placed your composition book down on the sofa and went over to the door. When you pulled it open, you were shocked that it wasn't Billy Taupe at the threshold, but a peacekeeper.

A very handsome peacekeeper, might you add.

You had to crane your neck up slightly to look him in the eyes. Eyes that were icy blue, like a frozen over lake. You noticed that his buzz cut was platinum blonde, a blonde so light that only the gods of ancient myths could have such fair hair. Your eyes didn't miss his prominent nose or his broad shoulders and tapered waist either.

But it was his smile that had you dazzled. A smile that was bright, splitting his face in half with perfect pearly whites.

“Hello. I'm Private Coriolanus Snow; I was Lucy Gray’s mentor during the games and since I'm serving here in 12 I just wanted to check up on her. Make sure that she’s alright.”

“Yea, she mentioned you.” You nodded, feeling your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. Of course, your cousin's mentor looked like a Greek god. No wonder Lucy Gray seems to have a little crush on him. No way would he ever talk to you again once he got to see her.

Nobody ever talked to you again after spending time with Lucy Gray. Hell, her voice made the mockingjays stop and listen to her sing. Her beauty was exotic; she was a beautiful mystery that every man wanted to solve.

“I’m Y/N Scarlett.” You introduced yourself, only to tell the peacekeeper, “She's deep in the meadow that's some yards behind the house. She's working on a song, but I'm sure she won't mind if you interrupt her.”

“She never mentioned you.” Coriolanus said, moreso to himself then to you, his eyes raking over your body.

“Why would she? She was in the Capitol for the Hunger Games, not an afternoon tea party.” You sarcastically scoffed. Unknown to you, Lucy Gray did talk about the Covey, including your little sister, just not you. “Well, since I told you where to find my cousin, you better be on your way.” You said, politely dismissing him so that the blonde could go woo your cousin; you could also finish writing your thoughts down in your composition book.

“Is she doing alright?” Private Snow asked instead of saying goodbye.

‘She seems fine to me. Went right back to singing and charming the stage.” You wanted to add living off of her charms too, but you didn't think that'd go over too well with the buzzcut blonde grunt.

“That's good, I'm glad singing while covered in a bunch of lethal rainbow snakes didn't stop her from singing.”

“Lucy Gray stop singing because of the snakes? Are you kidding me? That girl loves snakes, is always playing with the slithering demons.”

“You don't like snakes, I take it.”

“You ever get snakebite because your loving cousin played a practical joke on you by hiding a harmless garter snake in your shawl that was nestled on the grass?”

“Uh, no, can't say that I have.”

“Yea, well, I have and it's not fun. So, no, I don't like snakes.” You dryly told the blonde peacekeeper.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Coriolanus asked with a charming smile painted on his face.

One of your brows rose up. “To the meadow to see Lucy Gray?”

No, Coriolanus wanted to take you on a walk.

By yourself.

There was something about you that he was instantly attracted to. As soon as he laid eyes on you, all thoughts on your cousin left his mind.

It's was like ‘Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray who?’ in his brain. She didn't matter to him anymore, but suddenly you did.

You seemed so beautiful to him. Like a fine piece of spun glass that holiday ornaments are crafted from.

Coriolanus couldn't explain it, but he has the primal urge to claim you. To protect you; make you his. All because of the sweet look in your doe eyes whenever you answered the door for him.

“No.” Coriolanus shook his head. “I want to take you for a walk, spend some time with you before I have to head back to base.”

He wanted to spend time with you? Oh boy, now that's unexpected.

All you could do was smile and squeak out, “Okay.”

And that's how you became Private Snow's girl, much to Lucy Gray's dismay.

You've been seeing Coriolanus for a few weeks now. Every weekend he seems to get weekend passes from his commander; uses them to stay with you at the Covey house. The Covey takes to him pretty well, especially when he brings over something from the Mellark bakery with every visit. He also brings over large bags of ice too, which is a godsend considering your family doesn't have an icebox.

Lucy Gray looks at him with sorrow and pain in her big, brown eyes. It's evident that she's disappointed that Coryo (what he's told you to call him) picked you over her. See, nobody ever picks you over her.

Well, not until Coryo that is.

But he's not like the other district boys because he's not district. He's a Capitol boy. And you know what they say…

You can take the boy out of the Capitol, but you can't take the Capitol out of the boy.

Today's a sweltering hot summer's day so you, Coryo, his friend Sejanus, and the Covey are at the lake: swimming.

You and your platinum blonde peacekeeper are the last to enter the water. Everyone else is already in the water as you two stand by the dock, stripping out of your clothes. Despite having seen Coriolanus naked a few times already, seeing him pull off his shirt makes you swoon.

You can't help it. He's just so handsome. Too pretty to be real.

Goddamn, those broad shoulders, toned arms, toned chest, and tapered waist of his gets you every time.

And yes, when the Covey's asleep he sneaks into your bed; fucks you senseless. The two of you think that Lucy Gray doesn't know, but she does. Her room and yours share a wall, she has ears and can hear the noises you and Coriolanus don't even try to quiet down.

Lucy Gray's disappointed in how reckless you're acting with Coriolanus. The last thing the Covey needs is for you to fall pregnant. Your family can barely stay afloat as it is.

But, on the other hand, your cousin can't help, but to see how happy you and her former mentor look, laughing and giggling as he chases you down the dock, causing you to jump into the water with him cannonballing in right after you.

The loud sounds of laughs, squeals, and overall cheerfulness mixed with water splashing loudly fills the air. Everyone's having fun.

But despite that, Coryo seems a bit melancholy. So much so that he swims a few yards away from the group, just to have a moment to himself. You have no idea what's going on in that head of his, but you don't want him to feel alone. As if he can't lean on you.

So, you swim over to him; climb up his back like a sloth and wrap your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder, causing him to grab your hand and lift it up to his lips; pressing a kiss against your knuckles.

The boys, Sejanus included, are cleaning the fish that they caught while your little sister's digging up swamp potatoes (Katniss as Lucy Gray calls it) and giving it to Lucy Gray, only for your cousin to remind Maude Ivory that the plant’s roots ain't ready yet. Barb Azure was with Lucy Gray, just talking.

And you're off to the side, laying on a blanket with Coryo. Your head’s in his lap as he lazily runs his long fingers thru your hair. Looking out at the view of the crystal blue lake and the trees surrounding it, Coryo told you, “It's beautiful out here.” Flashing you a smile, he added in, “Thank you for sharing this with me. You sharing your special spots with me means a lot, little dove.”

“No need to thank me, Coryo. I enjoy spending time with you; bringing you along on Covey excursions just happens to be a part of that.” You replied with a genuine smile.

“You know, there's so much I’d like to show you in the Capitol.”

“Lucy Gray says that the Capitol's a horrible place.”

“Don't listen to her, Y/N. She never told me about you, but she talked an awful lot about your little sister and the rest of the Covey.”

“She talked about them, but not me?” You asked, feeling sudden heartbreak and betrayal from your cousin.

Coriolanus’ heart hurts for you. He can't imagine how it'd feel to be so easily dismissed by his cousin, Tigris, who practically raised him. Just seeing your face so fallen and grief stricken at the revelation that Lucy Gray talked about all of her cousins, except for you, made him want to protect you from her.

Yes!

Coryo wants to protect you from your own cousin.

But not just her. No, he wants to protect you from everything that might cause you harm. And the only way to do that is bringing you back to the Capitol with him.

“Do you like it here, in District 12?” He wondered. He personally hates it; secretly wants you to hate it too.

“No.” You shook your head. “It's miserable in 12.”

“It's not miserable in the Capitol. The Capitol had rules, law and order, food, and warm beds.” Coryo recited, as if reading an ad from a vacation brochure. “I hope that when I go back one day that you'll come with me.” He confessed, looking down at you with a hopeful smile.

“I dunno if I could leave the Covey. They're my family, Coryo.” You honestly answered, feeling a sense of dread at the idea of leaving your family behind for another life. A life thousands and thousands of miles away from them.

“But you could leave me, your man?” Coryo asked incredulously, his jaw ticking.

“Coryo-” You tried to reason, only for him to cut you off with a blunt honest retort of, “You're going to have to choose one day, little dove. I just hope you pick me.”

Silence fell over the two of you as he twisted his torso, reaching into his bag beside him to get something. You didn't pay it any mind, figuring he was getting a snack or something that he packed. But, when you noticed a balled up piece of orange material in his hand as he straightened his back to resume his previous position of sitting, you couldn't help but wonder what the material was.

It wouldn't take you long to find out.

Handing you over the orange ball of fine spin silk, he softly told you, “It belonged to my mother.”

“Oh, Coryo…” Your hands gently clutched the token to your heart. You knew that it must've meant a lot to him; that you must mean a lot to him too in order to receive such a gift. “Thank you, I'll take good care of it.” You studied the orange gift, concluding that it's a scarf. “I promise.” You smiled, looking between him and the scarf. Taking his hand in yours, you sighed, “I only wish that I had something meaningful to give you back.”

“I don't need anything, but your love, darling.” Coryo assured you before bending down, cupping your cheek with his large hand, and capturing your lips in a soft, but hungry kiss.

The following week, you began getting sick in the early mornings. Sometimes, you'd get sick due to a strong smell too. You even seemed more fatigued, sometimes even feeling a bit flushed and dizzy. And your boobs were tender. You knew what the symptoms mean and it terrifies you.

It terrifies you because you and Coryo never talked about the possibility of children. Would he even want a baby? He's a peacekeeper, is he even allowed to claim a baby with a Covey girl? Would the baby be a bastard? Would he-

“Hey, little dove, what's wrong?” Coryo asked, walking up your front porch with a bag of ice over his shoulder and a paper bag labeled Mellark Bakery in hand.

“We need to talk, Coriolanus.” You sighed, picking at your nails.

You're afraid that after you tell him your discovery that he'll leave and never come back.

Coryo's brow furrowed with worry. You haven't called him Coriolanus since the day you first met him. Something's wrong.

Setting the bags he was carrying down, he went over to your side. He pulled you up from your seat on an old wooden rocker, only to sit down and pull you onto his lap. Lightly threading his fingers into your hair, he asked, “What's wrong, little dove?”

“I'm pregnant, Coryo.” You nervously revealed, dropping your head in shame.

“Yea?” Coryo asked, gently tipping your chin up; making you look into his icy eyes. Icy blue eyes that are filled with only joy and pride. “We’re having a baby?”

“Yea.” You confirm.

“I promise, I'll take care of both of you.” Your peacekeeper vowed, protectively placing one of his large hands over your stomach. He pressed his lips against yours in a soft, chaste kiss. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours and asked, “Does the Covey know?”

“No. I wanted to wait to tell them.”

“Why? Are you afraid of what they'll say?” Coryo asked, genuine concern flooding his baby blues.

“I doubt they'll be happy about another mouth to feed.” You sighed. You could already hear your family's fake congratulations in your head. You know full well that they'll be disappointed about this. It's just not the ideal timing.

Coryo tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Don't worry, little dove. We'll figure it out.” Your boyfriend assured you with a thin smile.

Coryo didn't want you performing with the Covey anymore. He claimed that the stress of it would be bad for the baby. So, you obliged him and made a lame excuse about a headache in order to be a spectator in the crowd.

You're sitting at a table against the wall with Sejanus and Coryo. The boys are drinking jars of shine while you're stuck drinking nothing- since shine's bad for pregnancy and the Hobb doesn't have anything else for drinking. Lucy Gray had just started singing her debut of a new song whenever Sejanus excused himself and took off to the bar, where Billy Taupe was. It looked like he was waiting for him too.

“You might want to keep an eye on that. Billy's bad news, Coryo.” You told your boyfriend, subtly gesturing to where Sejanus and Billy Taupe were.

Unknown to you, Coryo's been keeping an eye on it. That he even sent a jabberjay to the Capitol with Sejanus' dumb rebel plans on it so that Strabo Plinth could be made aware of the bullshit his son's up to; buy him a discharge and a one-way ticket back to the Capitol.

“I'll follow him; check it out.” Coryo told you, standing up. “Stay here, I'll only be a minute, little dove.” Coryo kissed your cheek before slithering thru the crowd to follow Sejanus and Billy Taupe as they ventured to a back room.

After a while, you got concerned and decided to find out what was going on. So, you went down the back hallway and into the room you saw Coryo slip into. Which was a mistake considering you walked right into a dicey situation.

You saw a small pile of guns splayed out with Sejanus, Billy Taupe, Spruce, and Coryo all in a corner of the room, exchanging barbs.

“Who's she?” Spruce asked, pointing to you with a gun.

Looking over his shoulder, Coryo gritted his teeth and told you, “Baby, I told you to wait for me out there.” He grabbed your wrist and shoved you behind him, while telling Spruce, “She's my girl.”

But at the same time Billy Taupe said, “Y/N Scarlett's Covey, her and her peacekeeper friends are coming with us.”

“Since when, Billy?” Asked the shrill voice that belonged to the district shrew, Mayfair Lipp.

Oh shit…

Mayfair entered from the other side of the room, making her presence known when she heard her pathetic accordion player boyfriend was planning on taking a Covey girl and some peacekeepers somewhere.

Somewhere her daddy wouldn't approve of.

“What's going on?” The redhead asked.

Looking at his girl, who he was trying to shake in favor of making up with Lucy Gray, Billy said, “I'll explain later, Mayfair. Just let it go.”

“No, I won't let it go, Billy. I want to know what you're planning with these guns.”

“Oh my God, Coryo, I'm so sorry. I swear, I didn't mean to bring you into this mess.” Sejanus cried.

“You should be sorry. You've pulled not just me, but the mother of my child into your stupid bullshit.” Coryo angrily shouted. He was so pissed that he could strangle Sejanus for his stupidity.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't know.” Blubbered the dark haired peacekeeper.

“Wait a minute, I know exactly who the two of you are.” Mayfair’s beady eyes lit up. Pointing at Coryo, she said, “You were Lucy Gray Baird’s Capitol mentor during the games.” Pointing to you, she sniggered, “And you're her cousin.”

You and Coryo exchanged worried looks. Right now, both of you wished you'd stayed outside in the main bar room of the Hobb.

“Well, wouldn't my daddy like to know that you're all planning on running away.” Mayfair's voice rang out, all smug and evil sounding.

“She won't say anything.” Billy Taupe assured everyone. Looking at his girlfriend, he asked, “Won't you?”

“Oh, why don't you ask her if I'm bluffing.” Mayfair pointed to you. “Did your cousin like her trip to the Capitol? Maybe you and your peacekeeper traitor boyfriend will like your trip to the hanging tree.” Mayfair said before pivoting on her heel and making to leave. To tell her father, Mayor Lipp, about what she's seen and overheard.

But before she got very far, Coryo reached for one of the rifles and shot her in the back, causing her to fall down.

Dead.

Your eyes widened, but you knew why he did it. He did it to protect you and the baby.

“What did you just do?! Why did you do that for?!” Billy Taupe shouted at Coryo while Sejanus was just balling his eyes out.

“He did what he had to, she was gonna talk.” Spruce said, siding with Coryo.

“Oh, I'm not going down for this.” Billy frantically said, most likely figuring that he'd be the first suspect since he was Mayfair's man. Grabbing a gun, he pointed it at you and Coriolanus.

He never got a shot off cause Spruce got him first. Tossing his gun in the pile and motioning for Coryo to do the same, he told your boyfriend, “I'll get rid of the guns.”

Coriolanus nodded, only to turn to you and cup your cheeks. “Go back out there and find some friends to talk to as an alibi.” Kissing you, he swore, “I'll keep you and our baby safe, I promise, my little dove.”

“I know you will.” You replied, softly wrapping your hands around his wrists and squeezing them.

Sejanus was crying to bad that he was hunched over, having a panic attack. You and Coryo shared a silent look. Without words, you told him to help his friends and he agreed that he word.

After parting from each other, you went out to the main bar room of the Hobb while Coryo calmed down his best friend and assured Sejanus that they're brothers; that he'll protect him.

Sadly, Coryo couldn't protect Sejanus from being marked a rebel spy and a traitor; from the noose of the hanging tree. The death of his friend hit him hard. Sejanus was hanged alongside Spruce and his sister, Lil.

Coryo had received a spot in an elite officer's training program in 2; he wanted you to go along with him. Apparently officers were allowed to have women. Coriolanus himself was the son of General Crassus Snow. You agreed to go with him, but told him that you suspect that Spruce might've told Lucy Gray about what happened.

When he asked you why, you told him that Lucy Gray made a remark about how you couldn't trust Coryo because men like him need to tie up loose ends in order to get what they want. That if he's able to find the guns hidden at the cabin he'll get rid of her; tie up his loose end so that he'll be free to ran back to the Capitol.

Lucy Gray had told you that in warning, after stumbling upon Spruce hiding the guns while out hiking to help clear her head and get her muses energized. But, you didn't take her warning. In fact, you did the opposite of that warning; told Coryo all about it.

When he asked where your cousin was so that he could talk to her about what she knew, you never would've thought in your wildest dreams that he'd kill her to shut her up. To ensure that he'd be able to bring you with him to District 2.

So, you told him that Lucy Gray was hiding out at the lakeside cabin because she was afraid of Mayor Lipp (since he's been harassing her ever since his daughter's death).

No, how would you know that by telling your boyfriend where to find your cousin that you're signing her death warrant.

The day of your departure arrives and you don't have many things to bring. Just a single, small carpet bag filled with a handful of dresses. You're wearing one of your nicest dresses paired with the orange scarf Coryo gave you. And when Coryo saw you step onto the train platform, he couldn't help but to run over to you and wrap his arms around you.

Kissing you, he smiled, “You look beautiful, my darling.”

“You look quite handsome yourself.” You told him, since he did look stunning in his dress uniform. Honestly, the hat did things for you.

“I'm glad you think so.” He smirked. Breaking your embrace, he took your hand in his and said, “Come on, we need to be sent off by Commander Hoff.”

“Okay.” You nod, despite feeling uneasy about revealing your relationship to his former commander.

After a couple of minutes walking along the platform, you spotted Commander Hoff. He was standing by the train, waiting for Coriolanus. Upon seeing him, Coryo greeted him with a salute. You did a slight curtsey, out of respect.

“There’s been a slight change of plans. You and your girl will be going to the Capitol instead.” Commander Hoff informed the two of you. “You make us proud, Snow.” He said before walking off.

“The Capitol…” You trailed off in awe.

A large grin split Coryo's face from ear to ear as he picked you up and spun you around. “We're going home, baby. We're going home.”

As you sat with Coryo on a train bound for the Capitol your family was at home, sulking over your sudden decision to leave. One that they didn't approve of. One that they thought Lucy Gray would be able to talk you out of if she was around. They blamed the mayor for her absence

And while, yes, her fear of Mayor Lipp made Lucy Gray hide out in the cabin, it was Coriolanus Snow that truly made her disappear when he showed up at the cabin, peacekeeper issued pistol in hand. Poor thing was at her patch of Katniss, checking to see if they were ready to pick when he snuck up behind her and shot her point blank in the head.

He dumped her and the guns that he found hidden under the floorboards, after tearing the entire cabin apart, in the lake.

You'd never know that he committed not one but two murders to keep you safe, to keep your unborn baby safe. Because to Coryo you're as precious as spun glass and he'll do anything to protect you. Anything or anybody he sees as a threat to you and the baby he'll deal with.

And he knew that Lucy Gray was dangerous. She didn't trust him; might try to turn you against him. The thing about spun glass that it can break if not handled with care. Coryo will never let anyone break you, so Lucy Gray had to go.

He knew that your cousin saw right thru his facade. Could see him for the true snake he was. And he couldn't have her ruining everything for the two of you.

But you'll never know any of that. All you'll know is the safety of the Capitol and a loving husband that'll spoil you and your baby rotten.

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sandwhitches · 5 months ago

Text

𝗰𝘄: language, references to sex, "kys" joke, references to drinking, a little bit angsty

<<< back ✱ menu ✱ next >>>

That year, cold weather came earlier than the one before. An icy breeze kissed your cheeks as it pushed along dry November leaves. By the time you were halfway to Rintaro’s, your lungs were stinging and your muscles ached from working in the cold. A couple of weeks before your second year of university started, his creaking car broke down for good, and he couldn’t pick you up to hang out like usual. Money that would usually have been spent on frequent upkeep of the shoddy vehicle would be repurposed into paying for rent in a bigger, shared apartment with another friend of his.

It was pitch black out, you tried not to freeze as you biked uphill to the brick apartment building a few blocks away from your dorm.

“Where the hell are you going?” Your roommate had asked you upon seeing you wrap yourself in a scarf that you’re sure was somebody else’s at another point in time, you cleared your throat, a guilty expression, “Math tutor.” You lied, fitting earmuffs over your head. This would be the third time that month you’d left after midnight to see said “math tutor,” your roommate had stopped believing you and you chose to ignore that.

Truthfully, nobody needed to know what you and Suna were up to, though it wasn’t wrong. Things always felt better when it was just shared between the both of you.

Your breaths came out in soft clouds as you chained up your bike, head perking up at the sound of leaves crunching towards you. “I’m freezing my ass off.” Suna gritted his teeth, hugging his own torso in desperate search of warm reprieve from the cold. You scoffed, eyes rolling, and stood up to slip your earmuffs off.

Initially, these late nights were spent talking, pretending to do work, ignoring that nagging feeling that there should be some greater purpose to work towards. Suna let you sprawl out on the bed and he sat on his carpeted floor, penning down illegible answers to a class he’s repeating or furiously typing away at his laptop. Sometimes, it’d end with a nice buzz on Fridays, crushed cans littered across his floor that would be there until you woke up the next morning.

Suna was your best friend. You thought of all the best friends you’d had before him, and it was never anything like this. With Suna, nothing was a mystery, you knew him perfectly well and it was scary that he knew you even better. You preferred it like that.

It was a blisteringly cold January, you couldn’t bike to him because of the snow, but you couldn’t sleep without seeing him, either. On weekends, the two of you would walk side by side to his apartment, and you never told him that you felt bad that he had to walk alone to pick you up. You talked to ignore the cold, sometimes you drank to stay warm, and others you’d interlaced fingers and pretended like you didn’t notice it happened once you weren’t freezing anymore.

Suna’s head was propped against the bed, he stared at the search bar on his laptop, finger hovering over the keys tentatively. You were on your back, head lolled over the edge of the bed as you viewed the world upside down, your head beginning to grow tingly as blood rushed to it.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” You murmured, eyeing the side of his face.

“How stupid you look right now.” Suna raised a playful brow, grinning as you sat up with an annoyed groan, “What are you really thinking about?”

You knew what he was thinking about. Suna kept getting disappointed. Actually, you both kept getting disappointed. You were beginning to lose track of how many times either of you had gone out with someone who turned out to be, for lack of better terms, an asshole or a bore. Long were the nights that the two of you sat on the roof of his apartment building, declaring that you were done with trying. You were done being disappointed. Recently, something similar happened to Suna, and you hadn’t heard the end of his disappointment yet.

“Just wish I’d be able to know.”

You’d talked about this a lot, a metaphorical innate ability to know if someone would really be worth it. It’d save you a lot of time and heartbreak, that much was for sure.

“Y’know,” you started, criss-crossing your legs and slumping over, “something like that happened to me the other day,” Suna turned to look at you inquisitively “I was gonna go for this guy who was hitting on me, but my friend told me he made out with his last girlfriend’s sister…that saved me a lot of time.” You scoffed, still in slight disbelief.

Suna huffed out a dry laugh at the situation, but there was something much deeper latent in the olive reflection of his eyes. You could practically see the cogs begin to turn before a lightbulb flashed and a mischievous grin twisted its way onto its face. You knew this look very well. It meant he was about to propose something wildly questionable, and of course, you would agree.

“That’s actually…” Suna turned back to his laptop, finally seizing the keys in a decisive manner.

“I have an idea. I need you to bear with me, okay?”

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀:

✱ alr one of y'all is lying about being cheated on

✱ suna's favorite month that year was december because of the snowflakes that would stick to your eyelashes when you rode your bike over

✱ rest in pieces sunarin's rustbucket

✱ in the last text convo between the roommate and her friend in case anyone doesn't get the reference (for shame if you don't) "shining" refers to the ability in "The Shining" not suna and reader glittering telepathically at each other or wtv. (i think i'm so funny)

✱ atsumu's a good buddy (he's still listening to the soapbox, sorry)

✱ “me and the weird baddie i pulled by being equally weird” (they’re matching each others freak trust u will understand soon)

𝗮/𝗻: return to messiness (?) next chapter with more sus (i need you to know typing that out gave me heartburn) behavior from suna and y/n. i am obsessed with guess ft. billie eilish music video. ree thank you for beta reading again (i'll buy you a corndog or something as thanks idk wtf stop looking at me like that) listen to anthems for a seventeen year old girl by broken social scene, then anthems for a seventeen year old girl by yeule (and watch i saw the tv glow) okay i'll shut up i just have a lot to say today.

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @zumicho @nectardaddy @moucheslove @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses @piopioo @lvtilzs @s777athv @localgaytrainwreck @reignsaway @savemebrazilhinata @pop-ghost @naweirdo @sunsribn @staileykout @milesmoralesluvs @chaconadine @aboutkiyoomi @m3gitsune @wizardhore @ineednanami @wakashudou @torkorpse @st4rdusttx @renkitsune @solaqes @sereniteav @eveyams @myromanempiree @saltypuffin1040 @nbcvs @gsyche @miiyas @starkyu @renardiererin @puppenpop (blogs in bold couldn’t be tagged, please check your settings!)

taglist status: open! (42/50, please send an ask to be added)

#suna rintaro #suna x reader #🥊.on sight!#suna rintaro x reader #suna haikyuu #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna smau #suna rintaro smau #suna rintaro imagines #suna imagines #hq suna #haikyuu suna #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu

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bibluebutterfly · 1 year ago

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It is truthfully so impressive to watch how we've watched Stolas grow as a seemingly asshole character to a genuine person who truly does want the best for the person we love. (HEADS UP: This is LONG)

Now, and we're only going to lightly touch on this because the Pilot isn't cannon, but it still contributed to the public opinion on Stolas. In other words, he was borderline predatory in a way that made EVERYONE uncomfortable. (It makes sense though since he was innitially supposed to be the villain. Which thank goodness that was changed because we already see enough bisexual predators in media as it is. Yes, I'm headcannoning that Pilot Stolas was bi.)

Then we get official episode 1. Stolas is... not much better. Although to his credit, he's not as bad or as creepish. The unfair power dynamic is very there, and he definitely talks down to Blitz, but at least he waits until Blitz agrees before getting to the pilot level of sexual.

And then we kind of just keep this up until episode 7. Stolas is VERY sexual and VERY horny with Blitz, and you either like it or you don't. It was consensual, nobody forced anything, and even Blitz says that he doesn't fuss about banging Stolas, but that power imbalance is very much there.

Stolas is calling him by pet names like "my little imp" and is baby talking him, which really comes off like his fetish is sleeping with the lower class. Again, you either like Stolas at this point or you don't.

HOWEVER, despite all his baby talk and just generally inappropriate behavior, we are shown very early on that Stolas has a loving side, mainly in the form of his daughter. "You Will Be Okay" was the thing that got most people from hating him to actually liking him. It was the thing that separated him from just being a horny owl.

Then Ozzies. Hooo boy. This is where we finally get to see Stolas apart from Blitz's POV and as it turns out... he's kind of a pathetic dork more than anything else. We see him go very low. Like the man is alone in his big house eating cereal for breakfast in his bathrobe and watching telenovelas. It's hard to go lower than that. More importantly, it's a stark contrast from how we saw him just one episode ago.

Not just that, but when he's asked out on the date he is genuinely so excited and awkward that you just can't help but feel bad for the guy.

And then we have Hells healthiest couple have their dick moment which leads to Stolas covering his face, validating every and anything Blitz had feared, which lead to him calling out Stolas which leads to them both crying at home.

AND THEN WE GET THE THING THAT MAKES EVERYONE EITHER LOVE STOLAS OR THINK THAT HE'S RUINED.... THE CIRCUS.

Yeah, so it turns out the arranged marriage theory was true, and that Stella has been verbally abusive for who knows how long. But the real kicker is how much it explains Stolas's behavior from season 1. As it turns out, Blitz coming on so strong that night resulted in Stolas trying (badly) to copy that energy. And it turns out that when Blitz told him to stop that first night, he still ended up tying Stolas up and banging him. So... understandable. It turns out that Stolas never wanted to be malicious with his intentions, but genuinely thought that the arrangement was something that they both wanted.

But at the same time, he realizes that misunderstanding or no, a part of him did recognize that Blitz wasn't as happy as he was, and that he can't gaslight himself into thinking otherwise anymore.

Now the big thing about season 2 we all need to talk about, is how hard and fast it took Stolas off the regal and powerful pedestal that I think we all subconsciously put him on. Whatever mystery and darkness that surrounded him in season 1 went completely out the window in season 2. But personally I believe that this fits as season 1 was mostly told from Blitz's POV while season 2 takes place in Stolas's when he's there.

Stolas does not see himself as something regal and powerful. Stolas, as it turns out, is a romantic as well as a MASSIVE dork. Like he's disney princess levels of dorkiness. The man even gets his own slapstick moment for crying out loud.

But aside from that, he's highly intelligent and a genuinely good person who will put others before him if he can recognize the benefit.

Also, while we're on the topic, I don't think that Stolas is as powerful as we or Blitz were led to believe. Like yes, he's got immense power to those who have none.

But at the same time, put him next to Asmodeus, and this demon who seemed so strong before is actually tiny in comparison. Especially when noted that Ozzie was still holding back in this scene.

Now we have the "Look My Way" MV. By now, any dark mystery is gone, we know who Stolas is, but what we didn't expect to see was how blatantly Stolas realized his mistakes and took responsibility. This whole season we saw him be sad over his relationship with Blitz, but we never expected him to realize just how badly he messed up.

But he did. And it was glorious. And again, we realize how much he truly cares for Blitz, this isn't just him saying "I care about him" then doing nothing. This is him realizing he cares about Blitz, and wanting to do something to make it right. Even if that means Blitz will never want to see him again.

Anyway. If you made it this far, I'm impressed. As I've said before, I'm proud of the owl boy and how far he's come as a character. Tell me if you think I missed anything.

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agirlandhersweetdelusions · 8 months ago

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Mermaid who is infatuated with your legs and wants to be in between them. The encounter is by chance, but it ends in something deeper than friendship. 🌊

Feminine Reader x Mermaid

CW: Smut | Some Horror | Mentions of Drowning | No death

"C'mon don't be a baby," Noah said. His tone indicated that he was joking, but you knew well enough that deep down, he hoped you would swim in Lake Lost at night.

"Leave her alone. You know she's not down for things like that," Mira hissed in his direction.

Mira had been your best friend since high school. She knew what you liked, didn't like, and downright hated. Which made it all the more surprising when she started going out with Noah years later.

Noah had always been an ass. He spent a majority of 11th grade in detention, and a majority of college skipped class from being too hungover. In your opinion, Mira was too good for him. It was an inside joke that if she were into girls that you would treat her way better.

You sighed. "If only," you thought to yourself.

The water seemed to have an electric hum to it tonight, and the closer you walked to the edge of the dock, the louder it got.

"Do you guys feel that?" You asked, turning to face your two friends. Of course they didn't because they were too busy making out. Again.

You cleared your throat.

"Earth to horny. Can you hear me? I am standing right here, you know."

Pulling away from Noah, Mira's eyes widened and she bit her lower lip. Embarrassed looked cute on her.

Noah, however, wore embarrassment about as well as he would wear anything. Proudly and way too loud for your liking.

"What can I say," he pulled Mira back to his chest. "She's hot," he finished with an annunciation on the "t".

"At least go back to the car so I don't have to watch," you sneered. Clearly, you were the least important thing here.

"No! This is supposed to be our little reunion before the wedding," Mira's eyes dropped as she tried to step towards you. Ah, right. The wedding. You were going to be Mira's maid of honor next week.

None of it felt real. The wedding. College graduation. Hell, even life itself felt strange these days. It's as if everything you knew turned inside out over night, and nobody else felt the difference but you.

You took a deep breath.

"I can always jump in the lake some other time," you faked a half smile.

"Besides. I'm sure you two would like to make one last memory here before becoming," you swallowed, "husband and wife."

Mira turned her head. What her eyes fixated on, you couldn't quite tell. The only thing apparent is that she'd rather look anywhere but at her so-called best friend.

"Well," Noah said breaking the tension.

"Maybe she's right. We can always go for some new memories." He wiggled his eyebrows and Mira's shoulders eased. Your stomach lurched in a pattern with the waves behind you.

"If you're sure -" Mira began.

"I'm sure. Go. I'll be here. I - I missed Lake Lost."

"Really?" They said in unison, brows furrowed.

"Yeah. You know, I love lore and mysteries. What is Lake Lost besides one big mystery. All those bodies are still missing. Surely, it was from boating accidents or drowning, but still. You guys deserve some privacy."

Mira's gaze leveled with yours. Her eyes, a coppery brown, finally showed signs of softening.

You were getting comfortable under the heat of her eyes when Noah swept her off of her feet. Literally.

"Let's go, future Mrs. Scobolt."

With that, they were disappearing in heaps of laughter back towards the car. It wasn't quite that far from the dock, but Mira suggested parking at the entrance in case anyone showed up.

Technically, the park closed at sunset which was 2 hours ago, but when you saw the sign from the backseat of the car, you got a little excited.

Mira hadn't been wrong. You guys used to spend every evening here in the summer. It was where you learned to swim, where Mira caught a baby crab, where a pelican stole your shoe, and where you and Mira kissed.

These waters have seen everything and more. Much more.

Your spine ran cold in the July heat at the thought of the deaths. They had explanations for all of them, but it was eerie how they all occurred at night. Who would go boating at night? The lake is closed!

Then again, here you were. You looked back towards the car, but a thick fog had begun to roll off of the restless waters. You couldn't see more than 200 feet around you in any direction. It was as if a cloud had swallowed you in the time you were thinking.

Going back to the car was still an option, but the mental image of Mira being pounded into by Noah set off a dozen alarms in your head.

Her head rolling back, his hands on her hips.

No. You'd stay at the dock until you were sure that whatever they were doing was over.

Cementing the idea in your head, you say down at the edge of the wooden structure. The water reminded you of the midnight sky, an abyss that had no end. Yet, the clinginess of your shirt to your skin meant that the humidity was only rising.

You decided to soak your feet in the water, and as your legs made contact with the coolness of the lake, a happy sigh escaped your lips.

A few minutes pass of you relaxing on your forearms, feet gently swaying in the lake. You watched the ripples from your moments with hooded eyes.

"I can see how people fall asleep out here," you think whilst fighting back a yawn.

The rustle of leaves in the summer breeze, the chirp of bullfrogs, the increasing bubble of the water - wait.

You sit up, fully alert and eyes wide. The bubbles are concentrated in one area, but they're quickly moving closer to you.

Whipping your head to the car, you open your mouth to call for help. The problem is that nothing comes out. You're stuck.

It's as if you've been submerged in ice. A chill coats your bones, freezing you in place. Your mind races onward, begging your legs to rise from the water.

The circle of erratic lake closes in and as the bubbles reach the edge of your legs, you come to your senses.

But it's too late.

The summer air is warm, but the spot of the lake where you're pulled into is warmer. Water floods your vision and you find yourself flailing, gripping as nothing as you are pulled down into an ombre of darker blues.

You can't see what's grabbed you, nor do you care. Why does it feel like a hand? That doesn't matter, you begin to kick with the hope of striking anything.

The murky water is quickly filling your lungs, and your ability to struggle is growing weak. A blackness eats at the edge of your vision, and dizziness begins to set in.

"Mira!" You try to scream, but it comes out in a slew of air bubbles that only floods your lungs quicker.

You give one more kick, stronger than the rest. You feel your heel connect with a mass. Suddenly, you're free. You slowly make your way to the surface, fighting the urge to pass out.

"Fuck," you gasp in a voice that sounds unlike your own. Coughing and sputtering, water spews from your body, and you grab onto the wooden base of the dock for support.

"What on earth was -," you stop when you hear the familiar rumble of hot water. The bubbles. They've come back, and they're racing towards you.

With no time or energy to pull yourself onto the dock, you wait - panting, for whatever the creature is to take you again.

Maybe it's for the best? You weren't exactly happy with your life before, and it's not like Mira would miss you at this point.

Just as you've resigned to becoming fish food, the creature begins to show itself. First, a black spot appears on the surface. Then, as it rises, you're frozen to the spot by icy white eyes with thick lashes of the same hue.

It's a woman. No? It's - what is she? Her eyes are huge and nearly human minus the color, but her skin is a milky blue. She's beautiful albeit definitely not human.

"Are those," your voice trembles, and you reach a shaky hand up towards her face.

The woman - thing, tilts her head. She doesn't move from your touch. Instead, you made contact with her skin. It's ice cold, and your suspicion was correct. She has gills.

Lost in a sea of thoughts, you hardly realize that you'd begun to stroke her skin.

"What -" her voice startles you back to the present. It is dreamy and quiet with a lilt that has you mesmerized.

"What are you?" She asks. Her eyes are wider than yours, but while you're staring at her face, she has taken a liking to staring at your chest.

The look on her face isn't at all displeased, and a heat trickles down your neck. As if on cue, her eyes snap to yours. She waits for you to respond.

"Oh, um. I'm a human. I'm a woman."

"Human? Woman?" Her head is still tilted, so you continue.

"Yeah. A human. I live up there," you point towards the land and her eyes follow. She blinks a few times before looking down into the water.

"And what are those?"

"What are what?" You look down to see what caught her attention, but instead of finding the source of her curiosity, you stir up your own.

A tail. She has a tail. Her human form ends at her bellybutton, and from there blooms a tail that glitters in sparks of white and lavender beneath the dark surface.

"Mermaid" you whisper under your breath.

Apparently, you did not answer the mermaid's question fast enough because you feel her looming over you before you see her.

Her chest comes into view, and you're forced to look up to meet her eyes once more. You bite your lip to avoid smiling at how gorgeous she is.

She chuckles, emitting a sound like tinkering bells and you feel a webbed palm on your thigh.

A panicked yelp slips from your lips before you register what happened.

"I apologize!" The mermaid responds.

"I did not know that your tails were so sensitive. I should have asked first."

Tails? She thinks you have tails? You look down at your legs, then back up at her. She's shrunken into herself, embarrassed at what she thinks may have hurt you.

"No. No no no," you begin to laugh.

"These are my legs," you swim around her in a small circle.

"They help me to swim, walk, and run. They're kind of important. I guess they are to me what your tail is to you."

You don't know why you've become so animated, but seeing the mermaid smile at your explanation has your heart picking up it's pace.

"By the way," you can't stop talking. You've tried, but the words keep flooding out.

"Why did the water bubble when you came? Also, why did you try to drown me?"

She blinks again, narrowing her eyes.

"Drown you? I - I thought you could swim like me? Are you not able to breathe water for long?"

"I can't breathe water at all. I have no gills. Human."

"Huh," she looks off to the side.

"Perhaps that is why those other humans did not last very long with me. I only wanted to study their two tails, but by the time I took them back to my shell cave, they did not want to talk to me."

Your stomach lurches again. She's the reason Lake Lost is called Lake Lost, and she has no idea what she's even done.

"So - So you only wanted to look at their legs? You drowned those people by accident?"

Recognition hits the mermaid like a wave. She spins around, scaled fingers over her mouth.

"I took their lives. Oh goodness, I drowned them!"

She did, and she should probably feel bad about it, but watching her tail flap in distress was not only upsetting you, but it was causing some bigger waves to form in the lake. You could swim, but you weren't sure if you could survive a tsunami.

You swim to her, placing a hand on her back.

"Warm," she turns to you, claimed.

"You are warm."

"Yes. I am. It's human blood. If I'm not warm, then I'll die."

She giggles at your factual explanation.

"You're very interesting. I still feel remorse for the humans that I hurt. I didn't mean to. I promise," she looks at you pleadingly.

"I know you didn't, and if it makes you feel better you can study my legs," the end of your sentence comes out as more of a question. You can't believe you just said that. What if she tries to rip your legs off?

Still, she's stunning. The moon is in its crescent phase, casting a dim shadow over the lake. Her dark hair has a faint light to it, and her white eyes look pearlescent. You could study her for hours, but her lack of shirt deters you as you don't want to make her uncomfortable.

She, on the other hand, has no problem with taking all of you in. Her claim is that she wants to study your legs, but every time you look away, her eyes flutter back to your chest, your lips.

Her hand twitches, and she claps both of them together in front of her.

"I would like that. Thank you," she smiles, and you shiver again at her teeth. They're razor sharp. She could kill you with one bite.

Not that she would. In fact, what happens next surprises you. Grabbing onto the dock, you begin to hoist yourself from the water without much success. Your hands are too wet to get a decent grip.

Sinking back into the water for the second time, you let out a frustrated huff.

Without warning, you feel a pair of icy cold hands gripping your hips, and a torso pressing itself to your back.

Staring into those white irises, she doesn't break your gaze and she lifts you onto the dock, setting you down gently.

You open your mouth to speak, but she beats you to it.

"You are welcome, human." A light blue creeps onto her neck and cheeks.

"What is it that fascinates you about legs? I know you don't have them, but they must look awfully funny to you from beneath the lake's surface."

"They do, but that is why I like them. They are something new. I have had this tail since I was young. It no longer interests me."

The mermaid takes pause, and her eyes scan you over again.

She continues, "Humans are different. Your anatomy is more complex. There are parts that do different things. I have heard many stories about your kind."

"Really? From who?"

"Fish that get set free, my sisters who used to watch humans from a distance. They say that if you make a human very happy, then something good happens. They called it "the cry".

Now it's your turn to be confused.

"Crying is usually not a good thing when humans do it. At least, in my experience. Though, I've not had many joyous occasions to cry over," you avoid her piecing eyes.

"No. It is not a sad cry. It is one that happens when you touch the spots between a human's legs."

She speaks in a voice that edges with excitement. You inch closer towards her at the edge of the dock until your legs brush her chest.

"Do you - are you saying that you want to do that? You want to have sex with a human?"

She laughs again, "Yes. I want to know everything about you. How your legs feel when I wrap them around my waist, how the -"

"What?"

"What would you like me to call your sensitive place, sweet human?"

"Well it's -" you snort out a laugh. You can't believe this is happening.

"Most people refer to it as a pussy, but you can use whatever word you see fit,"

"May I take a look at it?" she asks, moving forward to close any space between the two of you.

"And while I'm at it," she maneuvers your legs so that they rest on her hips, stroking them with her palms. You expected more scales, but her palms are completely smooth.

Leaning towards you until her nose nearly brushed yours, she whispers, "is this ok?"

You nod eagerly as words fail you again.

"Gosh, your legs are so cute. It's like they were made to hold people - or merpeople between them," she looks down, admiring the connection of your limbs and her body.

"Human."

"Hm?"

"I asked you earlier, but I think you were too distracted. May I see your pretty, sensitive areas?"

You think for a moment.

"Only if you promise that you'll greet them with a kiss."

Her eyes beam, a faint white glow added to their usual milkiness. A high pitched purr rumbles from somewhere within her throat, and she smiled, barring all of her teeth.

You lifted yourself enough that she could pull off your bottoms, but she protested the action.

"Human. I think you misunderstand my kindness. Please, do as I ask like an obedient creature."

Your ass hit the dock with a thump. Why on earth were you listening to her willingly? Is she using magic?

You didn't have to ponder because with a airy whisper of the word, "lift" you found yourself rising again for her to do exactly what you tried to help her with.

"Good girl," she mumbled.

And it was if your head no longer existed for the second she saw pussy, she was in a trance. She sunk into the water, leveling her gaze with your cunt. Her eyes reflecting no trace of what she saw, yet you could feel the wind rolling onto your clit.

You were wet, and she loved nothing more in the world than water.

"Pretty," she said breathlessly, still moving closer until her lips were centimeters from your clit.

"Is this it, sweet human?"

You knew she meant your clit. You could feel her cold breath chilling you from the outside, in.

"Yes, miss," you tested the nickname.

She made no sudden movement and to say, "What a polite pearl you are."

That must've been her last thought, too because after that you felt bliss. Short kisses were being peppered onto your folds.

She was working her way down to your entrance, teasing your hole with her double pointed tongue before she spread her affection to your inner thighs.

Your hand reached out, resting lighting in her damp hair, and emitted another of those high-pitched whines.

You gripped her harder.

"Do not get greedy, human," she teased, lifting one of your legs from the water to kiss her way down to your ankle.

"If it is me you want, then I will give it to you with time."

Her movements never ceased, and within seconds she was back between your legs, lapping at your folds.

Delighted hums left you in waves, and with a shaking voice, you mumbled, "Clit. Please, suck on my clit."

"Silence," she whispered, shutting you up in an instant.

She obeyed nonetheless. Her lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves while her tongue continued its journey. It was clear that she was being extra careful not to nip you with her teeth, but the tentative behavior only made you want more.

You began to pant, grinding your hips onto her face. Her eyes fluttered open unbeknownst to you, and while she continued to sail you towards an orgasm, one of her eyes bled into an inky blue.

Her efforts ceased, and your eyes opened immediately. It wasn't like you to outwardly pout, but the loss of contact had your lower lip trembling.

When you noticed her eyes, you felt like crying for an entirely different reason.

"Are you alright?" You said breathlessly.

She did not respond.

Her hands gripped your legs in a bruising fashion, and she yanked you into the lake once more.

Instead of drowning, you found yourself being held to her bare chest. She was looking down at you expectantly.

"I want to know what you're feeling, sweet pet."

Her tone was like molasses. Sticky and sultry. You were lost in her, and her gaze did not move from you.

Securing you in her arms, her tail found a home between your legs. As she positioned herself, a few of her scales glided across your cunt, and you moaned into her chest.

A breath was let out by her, and a strangled groan followed.

"Did you - did you feel that?" You searched her neverending pupils for signs of pleasure.

"A mermaid's tail is much more than a vice for swimming, pet. I can feel every contraction, every throb of your pretty pearl. I love it."

She closed her eyes, hugging you tightly while her tail moved back and forth against you. Every few seconds she would go farther out with her movements so that a stray scale would make contact with your clit.

It was as if you were grinding on her except she was holding you, suspended in the foggy lake.

"Miss, please. More. Need more," you begged.

Her tail moved faster. Meanwhile, her lips found yours, kissing you harshly as if to keep you quiet.

Your tongues found each other, swirling before she plunged hers into your mouth. You sucked on it eagerly, moaning into her mouth as your wetness coated her scaled.

Her heartbeat was increasing, and you were a mess.

"Pet, I am not going to last much longer. Use those pretty legs to move yourself on me. Let us finish together."

She loosened her arms. You used the opportunity to place your hands on her abdomen, grinding yourself faster against her.

"Such a good pet," is all you heard amongst the splashing of the water. The bubbles had returned, and steam rose into the air. You felt the nerves in your pussy throbbing, and you knew that she could feel it, too.

"Let it out, sweet human. Finish for me," she cooed into your ear.

Your legs trembled, and you nearly gave out onto her as your orgasm crashed onto you. Your hand groped her breast, and she placed a shaking palm over yours.

Her tail vibrated, and you heard faint a whimper and whines as she gasped for air. She had cum.

"Keep going. Keep moving. I am almost done," she begged, rocking you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of warmth and wet kisses, you both regained your breathing.

A tail and a set of legs stay intertwined in the sway of the waves, and she guided your hand up towards the moonlight.

The two of you stayed that way, enjoying the frog symphony and the crickets hum. Drifting to the center of the lake as you lay on her belly, watching as her webbed fingers toyed with yours.

"Thank you, sweet human," she said after a while.

You felt like you should be thanking her. After everything that's been happening to you, you finally felt real. You had been seen for the first time in a long time.

"If it is not too much to ask, may I see you again? I am sure there are many more parts of you that I could learn from."

You smiled to yourself.

"As long as I can learn from you as well. I'm sure you've got a ton of stories to tell."

She laughed. You were prepared to ask her about her family, but the familiar sound of tires on asphalt made you both freeze.

Mira and Noah. You had forgotten.

You felt your new companions heartbeat race. Turning to her, you took her cheeks in your hands.

"They're good people, but I understand why you might not want to be seen. I'll come back again tomorrow. This time, I'll bring you a gift."

"A gift?"

"Mhm. Something that you can keep or take to your sisters to show them,"

A few clicks sounded from her throat, and she pressed her forehead to yours.

"Fine, but take care of these legs, sweet human. I do like them very much."

She swam towards the dock with you on her back, shifting to set you on the wooden structure unharmed.

With a wink, she dove into the abyss of Lake Lost, and you heard Mira in the distance.

"Hey! Are you ready to go? Noah saw a park ranger coming this way."

Shit.

"Yeah! I'm coming," you glanced back at the lake, and a shimmer of lavender twinkled not so far away.

"Tomorrow" you thought to yourself.

You could look forward to tomorrow.

#monster smut #sapphic smut #monster fucker #monster fudger #monster lover #sapphic monster #fem reader #mermay #mythology #mermaid x human #mermaid #wlw smut #smut

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