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#it's kinda hard to tell where it actually comes from
everscorner · 2 days
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Something In The Way You Move | The Redemption
Author’s note: I struggled writing this next instalment, and there was a lot of chopping and changing, so apologies for the late update. There’s one final part after this, and the plan is to have it out by mid-May. In terms of their apartment, this is how I pictured it but feel free to switch it up. This is only for fictional purposes only, but please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎
Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive/implied smut, bad language, couple reconciling, side chick confrontation, some relationship issues, minors DNI (let me know if I missed anything)
famous!Reader x Jude Bellingham Word count: 8k words
///
‘So, Bestie,’ Winnie starts, ‘what’s the plan? And how are we going to pull this off?’
That’s a good question: how will you break the big news to Jude? It’s been five torturous days since the positive pregnancy test and you’re yet to tell him about it. The timing just hasn’t been right, and the next bit’ll sound silly, but you’ve kept this from him because you don’t want to take the attention from him. 
His first season at Real Madrid has exceeded all your wildest expectations, and you just wanted him to celebrate it all without detracting from it with the baby news. 
Girlfriend of the Year, right?
‘To be honest, Wins, I haven’t thought about it.’ 
You’re standing in the kitchen waiting for the water in the kettle to boil and Winnie’s in the living room, her limbs stretched out on the sectional as she mindlessly browses through one of the coffee table books. 
Your best friend’s in town for work, and earlier today, she actually filmed a couple of scenes with you for the show, and that’s when you told her about the pregnancy. 
Off camera, of course. However, looking back at the moment, you regret not filming it. 
Between filming your scenes, you quietly pulled Winnie to the side and showed her the sonogram you now carry around in your bag, and her reaction was exactly what you expected it to be and more. There was squealing, excited jumping, and there were lots and lots of tears shed between the two of you. 
‘Okay, well, when do you plan to tell him?’
Tonight. You think enough time has passed and yesterday, you went to your first doctor’s appointment and confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, but despite your excitement, you kept the news from Jude because you wanted the announcement to be well thought out—special.
Also, there has been so much distance between you, you’re hoping that the baby news could be the catalyst to bring you two together because you kinda miss being close to him. 
‘I’ll be honest with you, Y/N/N, that doesn’t give us much time to plan it.’ 
Winnie makes a good point, but you’re not looking for perfection, all that matters is that he knows. 
‘Well,’ the kettle boils and you walk over to where it sits on the counter to grab it, ‘it depends on what we decide on.’
You start pouring the boiling liquid into the cups.
‘My only request is that we incorporate the sonogram.’ 
‘Wouldn’t it be cute if we could find a pair of infant football boots?’ 
It’s kinda cheesy—very cheesy, actually—but you like the idea. A lot. 
‘Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’re getting somewhere with this.’
It’s almost hard to believe that you’re standing here, plotting out a way to tell Jude that you’re expecting. 
If someone had come up to you the night you first met him and told you that in two years, you’d be standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment in Madrid, planning a pregnancy reveal, you would’ve called them a liar. 
Excuse your French, but. . . ‘Holy fuck, Wins, I’m pregnant.’ 
It’s like it’s hitting you for the first time. 
Winnie laughs, amused by your sudden realisation. ‘I can’t explain it, right? But it feels like a teen pregnancy.’ 
There’s no need for her to explain it further ‘cause you know exactly what she means. When you first saw the positive pregnancy test—you know, after your initial shock—you first panicked about how your family would react to the news. 
You had to take a moment to stop and remind yourself that even though you’re still so young, you’re more than capable of raising this child. 
With Jude’s assistance, of course.
‘Do you want to record it?’
‘Record what?’ 
You take the steaming mugs from the island and make your way over to the living room, where you place them onto the coffee table. 
‘The moment you tell him. Not for Netflix,’ she clarifies, ‘but you know, home videos or whatever.’ 
Yeah, you’re definitely keeping this one in the family. Maybe if the show gets renewed for a second season. . . but you’re jumping the gun. 
‘I want to, but’ you look around the ostentatiously decorated main living space ‘where can we put the camera? I don’t want him to see it.’ 
‘We’ll figure it out.’ 
Winnie’s composure is just what you need right now. You can always count on her to be calm in stressful situations. 
‘Is your camera charged?’
You’ll have to check. It’s been some time since you last used it. Part of your job is that you’re a part time YouTuber, it’s something you dabble in because you like filming and editing. . . all that jazz, but lately, your channel has taken the backseat. 
Why vlog this period of your life when they can catch it on Netflix when the show comes out? 
‘Come,’ Winnie shifts to make space for you on the couch. 
You take your seat next to her and by the time you settle, she’s already got her phone out, with her Pinterest open. 
‘What’s that for?’
‘Well, something’s got to inspire us.’ 
Duh. It must be the pregnancy fog. 
‘Don’t worry,’ she assures. ‘We’ve got this.’
And got this you do. A half hour and two cold teas later, there’s a plan, but this plan requires you to leave the house. 
Booooo! 
You’re not too keen on the impromptu outing, but there are baby football boots to be bought, and at least you’ll have Winnie there with you. 
‘Well, that was easy.’
You beg to differ, but whatever. 
Winnie locks her phone and sets it on the couch, ‘When’s The Boy coming home?’
You’re not sure when it started, but Winnie now refers to Jude as “The Boy” which you find to be endearing. 
Probably late. He’s out with Toby and Noah, and he mentioned something about his other teammates joining them, but you weren’t really paying attention. 
‘I’m not sure.’ 
And it’s not something you wish to discuss further because the thought fills you with dread. It’s been days since your discovery but given the circumstances, there has been no time to sit down and talk about Coralie. 
The result of that is that whenever he goes out—and he’s been going out plenty to celebrate his victorious season—you can’t help but feel anxious that he might cheat on you again. 
Surely this is no way to live. 
‘But it doesn’t matter, does it?’ you rise off of the couch and start for the bedroom. 
Naturally, Winnie’s trailing after you and you just know that this conversation is far from over. She’s persistent. 
‘It doesn’t, but I think you should ask him.’ 
She makes it sound so simple. And you guess it is simple, he is your boyfriend after all, it’s your privilege to call or text him whenever and wherever. 
‘We don’t want any surprises.’
You don’t, but if he does walk into something he’s not supposed to walk into, that’s all on him. 
‘I don’t think it’s necessary, really.’
Inside the walk-in closet, you start stripping out of your house sweats to change into something appropriate. Once upon a time, you could leave your house in your house clothes without the fear of being pasted on the MailOnline and labelled “dowdy” and “unkempt”.
But that was a long time ago.  
‘Oooh, what’s this?’
Winnie finds herself distracted by the Chloé box that’s sitting on the closet island. 
‘Oh, yeah, that’s a PR box they sent me on Monday,’ you state matter-of-factly. 
She opens it and gasps when she sees what’s inside the large box. 
‘What the. . .’ 
‘It’s crazy, right?’ 
She turns to you in utter disbelief. ‘They gifted these to you?’ 
You hum.
She grunts and confesses, ‘I’m so jealous of you right now.’ 
Twelve full sized perfumes, all gifted to you by the brand. 
You tell her to take a bottle, and of course, she’s over the moon. And it earns you the title of World’s Best Best Friend. 
‘Well, I still think you should text him,’ she states as she tests the different scents. 
And here you thought she had forgotten about that. 
‘Just so we have an idea.’ 
You don’t really want to send the text, but you don’t want to raise any alarms with your friend. Lately, things between you and Jude have been far from perfect, but you’d prefer to keep your relationship problems from the world—even if it’s Winnie and she’s your best friend. 
‘Yeah, alright.’ 
Your phone’s in the living room, so you have to leave the closet to grab it, and when you come back, Winnie’s discovered your new Chanel handbag—a gift from Jude. 
‘He bought this for you?’ 
‘Yeah,’ but you’re not trying to make a big deal of it. 
Jude bought the bag for you about a month ago. At the time, it seemed so random—his urge to buy such an expensive gift on a whim—, but after seeing those text messages, you know it was the guilt that made him do it. 
‘Lucky bitch.’
‘I’ve been telling you to bag yourself a baller,’ you tease as you take your seat on one of the ottomans. 
You: Hey, when are you coming back tonight?
You read over the text to make sure you’re not coming off as desperate. . . a nag. But whatever, the text needs to be sent, and the way he interprets it is up to him. 
He doesn’t immediately respond, but you don’t expect him to. He never does when he’s out. 
You take a final look in the mirror. You look so good, it’s almost hard to believe that the look was put together in ten minutes. And you’d take a picture to post on your story, but there’s no time for that now. 
‘You ready, Wins?’ 
She smiles, ‘Ready.’ 
‘Alright then, let’s go.’ 
///
When he did finally respond to your text, Jude said that he’d try to be home by midnight, which gave you more than enough time to prepare for the reveal. 
For her visit, Winnie will be staying at the apartment with you, but she’s gone out because she’s not pregnant and she’s actually got a life. However, she did help you set everything up for the reveal, which you appreciated because she came with all the good ideas. 
Like she suggested that you do it in your closet as opposed to the kitchen, where you had initially planned to do it, because the lighting and acoustics were better. 
And now it’s a little past eleven o’clock and you’re rewatching an old episode of your favourite series. Earlier in the night—after Winnie left—you filmed a night time routine vlog for your TikTok, which you should be working on editing, but can’t be bothered about.
Waiting for Jude to come home has reduced you to a ball of anxiety, and despite your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute, you simply can’t make yourself fall asleep. However, one thing’s certain, no pregnancy reveal will be done tonight. 
Damn him, and damn your feelings for him.
You can’t believe he’s once again ditched you for his friends this week. It’s disrespectful at this point, but the worst part? 
You keep allowing him to get away with it. 
But what can you do, leave him? As if that’s an option for you. The love you feel for him runs so deep, you can’t bring yourself to imagine a life without him in it, especially with the baby coming. So apologies to all the feminists of the world, but your love for this man surpasses all reasoning. 
Your phone dings with a notification and you quickly grab it, hoping to find a text from him—you’ll take an incoherent drunken text at this point, anything—but instead it’s Winnie asking if he’s home yet. 
Fuck. 
You: Not yet, but soon :) 
You hope. 
She’ll never confront you about it, but you think that Winnie suspects that things aren’t good between you and Jude. The lack of calls and texts throughout the day was a dead giveaway. The two of you can’t get enough of each other, and even when you’re apart, you’re constantly updating each other one way or another so the silence was deafening.
But whatever, right? 
People across the world experience relationship problems every day. You’re not the first couple to experience this, and you’re certainly not the last. You just wish that your relationship problems weren’t because he stepped out on you. 
‘Babe?’ 
And now your mind’s playing tricks on you, because you swear you can hear him–
‘Y/N?’
Oh shit, he’s home!
You quickly reach for your phone to check the time: 11:26.
Fuck! 
In the last text you sent him almost an hour ago now, you gave him strict instructions to text you before he left the club. 
Guess he didn’t catch that text. 
‘Baby?’ he calls for you again, but his voice sounds distant, so you figure you have enough time to do what it is that you have to do.  
But you’ve got to move fast, so you clamber off of the bed, and scurry to your closet. You head straight to the camera, which you’ve carefully propped on your Louis Vuitton jewellery box, and switch it on to start recording. 
This probably isn’t the best of angles, but so long as it captures his reaction, hopefully with his face in the frame. 
‘Baaaaybeeee?’ 
His voice sounds closer now. 
‘In the closet, babe,’ you finally call back, then internally brace yourself for what’s to follow. 
With Jude, the plan was always to get married and have children, but the when was never discussed in detail. 
‘Why are you hiding in here?’ 
Some of that anxiety leaves your body at the sight of him. He’s beaming at you, so visibly happy to see you. 
‘Hiya.’
This man has seen you in all kinds of vulnerable situations, why are you so shy all of a sudden? 
As he closes the distance between you, you notice that his eyes are kinda red and glossy, the only sign of his intoxication. When he reaches you, his smile widens—if that’s even possible—and he leans forward to connect your foreheads. 
‘Hi, gorgeous.’ 
He smells of mint with the faint scent of alcohol, and a smell you can only describe as Jude on a night out. 
With your eyes shut, you deeply inhale the comforting scent, happy to have him back home. 
‘Hey, why are you hiding in here?’ he asks again, his words running into each other, the second sign. 
‘Uh, ‘cause.’
You weren’t anticipating that question, and you don’t know how to answer it. 
‘“‘Cause?”’ he chuckles. 
You hum.
‘Come here,’ he envelops you in his large and strong arms, practically suffocating you but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to release you because you’ve missed his affection and the intimacy.
You fear you’re starting to sound like a broken record. 
‘How was it?’
‘How was what?’
‘The club?’
‘Fine.’ 
And that’s all he’s willing to offer.
‘I thought you said Winnie was staying over?’ 
She is, she’s just gone to a party with the new guy she’s seeing. 
‘And you didn’t join her?’ 
‘No.’ 
You give him a half-baked explanation for why you didn’t, but all you’re thinking is how this isn’t going the way you hoped for it to go. This isn’t what the other significant others did in the videos you watched earlier.
But how do you save it?
‘Why are you asking about her?’
‘Just curious, I guess.’ 
‘Alright then,’ you fist his jacket in your hand. ‘It’s good to have you back home.’
He likes that, you know that because his heart rate picks up. Things are still a bit awkward between you, but that’s to be expected since you haven’t been talking much. 
With your arms around his neck, you press onto your toes and crane your neck to peck him on the lips. ‘And actually, babe, there’s something I want to show you.’
Jude tenses up at that, but it’s so subtle, if you weren’t in his arms, you would’ve missed it. 
‘You do?’ 
And like magic, he’s sobered up. Only a bit though. 
‘Don’t worry,’ you assure him, amused. ‘It’s nothing bad.’ 
Your assurance does nothing to ease his wound up body. 
‘Jude, relax. . . please.’ 
Still tense. Whatever, you won’t dwell on his anxiety. 
With a final peck to his lips, you step away from him and direct his attention to the island, where the football booties you went out to buy earlier are placed next to a toddler Real Madrid jersey, a positive pregnancy test—you took another one a couple of hours ago—and the sonogram.
‘Surprise,’ you say softly. 
You want to sound excited, but it just comes out dejected.
You watch as he takes it in, your heart hammering against your chest. Unfortunately for you, you only have a view of his side profile but even from this angle, you can see that his usually expressive face is perfectly still. You can’t read him, and it feels like an eternity before he turns to face you.
‘Is this for real?’ 
You nod, the lump that has found a home in your throat making it hard to speak. Your vision’s also blurred, courtesy of the tears that have pooled in your eyes. 
‘It is?’
The first tear falls. 
‘Oh, baby.’ 
Jude lifts you into his arms and squeezes all the air from your lungs. 
Man, he’s so strong. 
Then he sort of holds you like that for a long time, and the next thing you know, your neck is damp. 
‘Babe, are you. . are you crying?’ 
He denies it, but you can feel the damp spot grow with each passing second you’re in his arms. Oh goodness, he is. 
‘I think you are.’ 
‘Shut up,’ he mutters, his voice muffled. 
You giggle when he tickles you. 
His reaction’s quite the relief and it feels like a ginormous load has been lifted off your shoulders. In terms of his reaction, you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is the best reaction possible, and as he holds you, all the lingering resentment about his past transgressions are forgotten.
Eventually, he sets you down to reveal his red rimmed eyes and similarly hued nose. 
‘How far along are you?’ 
Seven weeks and three days today, according to your doctor. When Dr Hernandez told you, you couldn’t believe you were so far along and didn’t notice. 
‘That’s what, almost two months?’ 
In defence of you though, between your work and Jude’s chaotic football schedule, you’ve been out of touch with your body. 
‘Did you know?’
‘I suspected it.’ You tell him about the morning after that night when you noticed that your period was late.  ‘I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to take the test first.’
‘And why didn’t you tell me after?’ 
‘I wanted the doctor to confirm it.’ 
You’ve grown so tired of standing, so you sit on the carpeted floor of the closet, and Jude joins you, pushing the ottoman to one side so that he can lean against the island. 
‘I called Dr Morena who referred me to Dr Hernandez.’
He scowls, ‘Who’s that?’ 
‘My obstetrician.’
The scowl deepens.
You sigh, ‘The doctor who’ll care for me during the pregnancy.’
‘Oh.’ With his legs spread and stretched out before him, he pulls you into him and sets you between them. ‘And you said that Dr Morena referred you to this. . .’
‘Obstetrician.’
‘Yeah, that.’
You hum in agreement as you rest your back against his torso. 
Dr Morena is your family GP.  
There’s a silent beat then he asks, ‘So he knew before me?’
‘Winnie too,’ you turn your head so that you’re partially facing him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Winnie knew before me?’ 
The offence is evident in his voice.
‘I had to tell her,’ you defend, but this isn’t where you want to steer the conversation. ‘She helped me set this all up.’
He grunts.
‘Are you mad at me?’ 
‘Kinda.’ 
Well, now you feel bad. 
‘I’m sorry,’ you sit up and turn to face him, maintaining eye contact as you explain, ‘Had I known it would’ve offended you, I wouldn’t have done it.’
But she was so integral in all of this, a part of you’s glad you did. . . 
‘Oh, come on, Jude.’
He’s pouting, your big baby.
‘Cheer up, will you?’ you straddle him, cupping his face to gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. ‘I’m really sorry.’
It’s about another minute of silence and avoided eye contact, and you’re about to give up and on the verge of tears when: 
‘Babe, I’m only messing with you.’ 
A quiet beat, then there’s relief, followed by loud laughter. 
‘That wasn’t funny,’ you grouse, slapping him lightly on his chest. ‘I almost cried, you know.’
‘Come here,’ he pulls you into him. 
The traces of alcohol still linger in his speech, but he’s significantly sobered up since he got home ten minutes ago. 
‘I can’t believe you’re pregnant.’ 
And you can’t remember the last time Jude was this excited about something outside of football. His reaction almost makes you wish you had waited to share the news with him on his birthday, but that wouldn’t have worked because he’ll be in Germany then with the national team for the Euros. 
‘What are you thinking?’ 
‘How the pill doesn’t work a hundred percent,’ you pull away. 
But then again, with all the jet setting you’ve been doing, you probably weren’t taking it at the same time every day. 
With a flash of his signature smile, he concurs. 
‘My knees are starting to hurt,’ you announce as you move off of his lap and back to your previous spot between his legs. 
Jude places a hand over your stomach, and with your hands over his larger ones, you move them lower to the pelvic area.
‘There.’ 
He chuckles. ‘You know, I always dreamed of being a young dad.’
You didn’t know this about him.
‘Not at twenty-one,’ he continues, ‘but you know, in my twenties.’ 
It’s comforting to know that this baby fits into his life plan. 
‘How about you?’
‘I don’t know,’ you admit after a moment of consideration.
You’re still wrapping your head around the turn your life’s taken. The WAG thing kinda blindsided you, the fame too. The craziest part of this all is that you’ve made a career of it, built an entire brand. 
‘But I’m not mad at this plot twist.’ 
‘Our kid’s a plot twist?’ he chuckles. 
You nod. ‘Clearly we weren’t paying attention in sex education.’ 
He kisses the top of your head. 
‘Dr Hernandez said that the baby’s about the size of a blueberry,’ you tell him.
It’s such a random fact, but you feel compelled to share it with him. 
‘That’s really tiny.’
‘Right?’ 
Jude keeps rubbing over the area, and you have an inkling he’ll make a habit of this. 
Some minutes pass, and then you remember that the camera’s still going, so you excuse yourself from Jude. 
‘Where’re you going?’ 
His grip is firm around your waist. 
‘I’m going to get the camera.’
He looks confused, but he releases you. On bended knees, you shuffle over to the other end of the island to quickly grab it, but you don’t stop the recording. When you get back to Jude, you find him in a daze, silently staring at the sonogram in his hand. 
‘She’s so tiny,’ he comments when you sit at your previous spot, facing him. 
‘She?’ 
Talk about wanting to be a girl dad.
‘You think the baby’s a girl?’ 
He looks up to find a camera in his face. ‘What, you think it’s a boy?’
You shrug, you haven’t actually given it much thought. ‘Well, do you think you can handle a mini me?’
He makes a face. 
‘Ah, take it back,’ you giggle. 
He takes the camera and turns the lens to you. ‘Well, now I’m asking you. Y/N, do you think Baby Bellingham’s a girl or a boy?’ 
You pause to think about it. A mini you or a mini Jude, how difficult. ‘Well, I’m going the opposite, I think Baby Bellinghamʼs a boy.’
You snuggle into him, ear pressed against his chest, camera still in your face, but you’re both in the frame. One fact people don’t know about your boyfriend is that he’s a master vlogger, and he’s actually recorded many segments for your vlogs that will never see the light of day because when it comes to Jude, you’re a shameless gatekeeper. 
‘I want to shower before bed,’ he proclaims once the recording has stopped. ‘Join me?’ 
You’ve already taken your shower, but you figure a second one wouldn’t hurt. Jude takes your hand and leads you out of the closet and into the bathroom, where you strip out of your clothes. 
‘Is it my imagination, or are your boobs getting bigger?’
Huh? 
You look down at your exposed breasts, ‘Are you joking?’
‘No, I’m not,’ with a hand on each shoulder, he turns you towards the mirror. ‘Look.’ 
You’re looking at them, but they still look the same to you, but he’s adamant. Then, in a move you deem perverted—in a good way, of course—, he cups them in his hands. 
‘What are you doing?’ At this point, you can’t contain your laughter. 
‘How are you not seeing this?’ 
He must’ve drank more than you realise, because what the fuck is this? 
‘Are you high?’ 
His face twists with disapproval, ‘No, why?’ 
‘The boobs,’ you turn to him, ‘what’s with the sudden fascination with them?’
‘I like your boobs, you know this.’ 
You do. And you like his butt. 
‘Come,’ you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him into the shower. ‘I think you’re tired.’
And horny. 
You turn the faucet to run the water. 
As you’d imagine, not much showering is done. 
‘Careful not to wet your hair,’ you warn him, but it’s too late.
‘I don’t care,’ he says flippantly as he takes your face between his hands and leans over to kiss you. 
This is not what you came here to do. 
You’re both covered in suds. 
‘Jude, I need to rinse my body.’
‘Later,’ he mutters against your lips. 
‘Jude!’ you squeal. 
He’s such a Silly Billy when he wants to be.
You gasp into his passionate kiss when you suddenly feel the cold shower wall against your back. In a swift and slick movement, Jude trails kisses across your left shoulder and you tilt your head to one side to give him better access to your neck.
A soft moan escapes your parted lips as he sucks on the sensitive skin. 
‘Jude. . .’
You want to tell him to stop, but the hand on his naked lower back pulls him into to you. 
He hums into the kiss as his hand moves up your body to cup your boob, ‘Tonight, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.’ 
His vulnerability catches you off guard, how can you not give into him. . .
///
For breakfast this morning, you’re making honey butter toast using a recipe you found on the internet. It’s your first time making it and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but Jude saw it on Pinterest the other week and begged you to make it, so that’s what he’ll have for breakfast. 
It’s a simple enough recipe, but knowing you and your iffy cooking skills, this could either be a major success or an epic fail—nothing in the middle. If it does fail though, you’ve got the regular bacon and egg fry-up on standby. 
But only positive thoughts in this kitchen. 
You’ve got your favourite morning playlist going softly in the background, and today’s what you consider the perfect Saturday morning. The sun is fully out, and the expansive windows of the apartment allow for the natural light to pour into the space and warms it. 
You put the toast into the oven and set the timer. 
At the end of the summer, your lease for this apartment will be up, but the likelihood of you extending it has significantly shrunk with the latest development in your life. The song goes, “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Y/N with a baby carriage,” but you’ve skipped parts, so some things need to be shifted around. 
That means that the house hunting that you’ve been putting off needs to start. . . now, really. 
This is where Coralie comes in handy, but you’re not talking to her. She actually reached out to you Sunday morning to apologise for your awkward encounter at the restaurant that night. Her text read: 
Coralie: Last night, I overstepped and I’m really sorry and embarrassed by my actions. Please forgive me. 
You’re yet to respond to the text, but you don’t plan to anytime soon because you don’t accept her stupid apology. As far as you’re concerned, she’s an insignificant homewrecker. She is two-faced and vindictive and incredibly cruel for subjecting you to such humiliation. 
She laughed with you, acted like a friend when she was fucking your man behind your back for six months. 
‘Bitch,’ you mumble as you load the dishes into the wash.
But she’s not worth the time, emotions, nor the energy. So with a deep breath, you bop thoughts of her out of your mind, and move on with your day. 
Easy. 
A half hour later, breakfast is ready to be served. You’ve gone all out with this meal, and it would be an absolute shame to not take a picture to post onto your IG story. Very quickly, you snap a picture to post later, and take the food to your sleeping boyfriend before the ice-cream starts to melt. 
He’s still fast asleep, but he’s since shifted sleeping positions, and he’s hugging your pillow. 
How cute? 
When he wakes up, you expect him to be hungover and grouchy from all his boozing, and you just know he’ll play it up for attention. If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend it’s that he dies for attention, and he simply cannot resist being babied. 
‘Wakey wakey sleepyhead.’ 
You place the heavy tray onto the bedside table, on the other side of it to avoid it getting bumped by mistake, and attempt to wake him again. 
Still, nothing. 
‘Jude,’ you mount him, peppering a million tiny kisses against the side of his pretty face. Even in his slumber, he looks perfect. ‘Come on, you got your eight hours, it’s time to wake up.’ 
He grunts, then sends you away. 
‘But I got food,’ you object with feigned sadness. 
But he doesnʼt budge. 
Alright, sweet coaxing out the window. ‘Babe, I made honey butter toast and the ice-cream’s rapidly melting. Wake up.’ 
There’s another silent beat and then, ‘What the hell is that?’ 
Of course he doesn’t remember what it is.
‘Honey butter toast,’ you repeat, as if it’ll somehow miraculously make him know what it is. ‘That bread you saw on Pinterest and begged me to make.’
He’s still clueless, but at least you’ve got his attention. Finally, with a long groan, he sits up, moving cautiously to not send you tumbling to the floor. 
‘What time is it?’
‘Ten.’ 
He cusses softly as he rubs his face. ‘I’m supposed to meet with my parents at eleven.’
You didn’t know that. 
But it’s clearly nothing pressing because he doesn’t seem fazed by the fact that he’s running late. He yawns, rubs his eyes and face some more, then turns to you—sitting comfortably on his lap—and smiles. ‘Good morning.’ 
You mirror his expression. ‘Morning. You hungry?’
‘Starving. What’s for breakfast?’
‘Here,’ you slide off his lap to take the tray and hand it to him. ‘It’s my first time making it, so be nice.’
He assesses the tray of food you’ve placed before him, then looks back up at you. ‘Nine out of ten for the presentation.’
Your brows furrow, ‘Why not ten?’ 
‘Some of the ice-cream has melted and it looks a bit sloppy.’ 
‘Yeah, and who’s fault is that?’ 
He lets out a hearty laugh, but you’re not amused by this judge. 
You climb back onto the bed, your eyes fixed on Jude as he puts the first forkful of the honey butter toast, with a little bit of the vanilla ice-cream and salted caramel sauce, into his mouth.
He chews, then he moans, his eyes widen, more chewing, and then finally, he swallows. 
This is a good reaction. 
‘You like it?’ 
‘I love it,’ he cuts another piece of the toast. ‘Ten out of ten for the taste. Did you make the ice-cream and caramel sauce yourself?’
‘Alright, Paul Hollywood.’ You grab the extra fork you had on the tray and dig in—curious about the taste—and are met with protests from Jude. ‘I just want a little taste.’ 
‘Get your own.’ 
Your bottom lip juts out, it’s your turn to pout. ‘Yeah, but I’m pregnant.’ 
With a heavy sigh, he proclaims, ‘And so it starts.’
You can’t help but laugh at his solemn tone. 
The two of you remain in bed, even after he’s finished having his breakfast, because his outing with his parents has now been postponed to two o’clock. If it were any other day, you’d join them, but you promised to accompany Winnie to the art gallery and you don’t think you can get out of it. 
Turning into your side, Jude questions, ‘Why does she have to go to the art gallery?’ 
Because she’s in her art girl era, inspired by her latest fling, an up-and-coming visual artist from Portugal. His name’s Baltasar, and they met at Coachella a couple months back, and lately, he’s all she ever talks about. You think she’s in love. 
‘A visual artist?’ 
‘Yep.’ 
‘So he’s broke?’ 
‘Hey, don’t be mean,’ you chide. 
He doesn’t care though, he thinks it’s funny. 
‘You’re such an asshole, d’you know that?’ 
‘Babe, I’m just kidding.’ 
Yeah, right. 
‘Well, she really likes him so if she mentions it to you, keep the bad jokes to yourself.’ 
‘Noted,’ his mouth connects with your cheek.
The conversation smoothly transitions from Winnie’s new boyfriend to Jobe, who’s relentlessly trying to convince his older brother to take a short trip to Ibiza before he has to report for international duty. You think it’s a great idea, a final hoorah before it gets serious again.
‘Will you come with?’
‘Ibiza sober? Count me out.’
‘I’ll drink for the both of us.’ 
‘Uh, definitely not,’ your fingers glide up and down his naked back. ‘And I think Jobe wants this to be a boy’s trip. No girlfriends.’
‘But you’re not my girlfriend.’ 
Huh? ‘I’m not?’ 
‘You recently got upgraded to baby mum.’ 
He’s an idiot. Who even laughs at their own jokes this much? Either way, you’re not going to Ibiza with them. It’s another half hour of mindless chatter before you ask,
‘What time is it?’ 
‘Early.’ 
‘Jude, I’m being serious,’ you reach blindly for your phone and find it on the other end of the bed. ‘I need to start getting ready.’ 
‘Can’t you postpone it for another day?’
‘Winnie leaves tomorrow night.’ 
But he’s not budging, and so you have to use all of your might to shove him off of you. 
Your strength leaves him shook. ‘Where’d that come from?’ 
‘It’s all those training sessions you’re paying for.’
He swells with pride—men. 
‘Will you join me?’
Jude perks up. 
‘But we’re only showering, nothing else.’ 
And he’s dejected. 
‘I’ll just sit on the side and watch.’ 
That’s fine by you. 
He follows you into the bathroom, and you think you hear him mumble something about you making it worth his while. 
///
What your gallery date conveniently forgot to mention was that Baltasar would be joining your gallery excursion. Had you known he’d be here, you would’ve asked Jude to tag along so it could be a double date or something.  
Jude: How’s it going? 🖼️
You’re miserable here, and you’re pretty sure you’re third wheeling. And look, you want to be supportive of your best friend, right? But it’s so hard to be when the guy she’s seeing’s the textbook definition of an asshole. 
You’re one pretentious comment away from faking morning sickness to get out of this. 
You: I’m having the worst time
You: The art is great, but he’s so smug 🙄
And he’s rude, so rude, and he’s determined to talk over you. 
Jude: The artist? 🎨🧑‍🎨
You: Yeah, I don’t think he likes me :/ 
And you’d actually be doing him a favour by leaving, you’d be doing you both the favour because at this point, you feel like you’re intruding and you’re starting to feel awkward. 
Jude: Well fuck him 
His text makes you chortle.��
At least Winnie’s making an effort to include you. Every now and again, she’ll ask for your opinion on certain pieces, but in the end, you just can’t do it. 
You can’t be here anymore. 
‘Hey,’ you lightly tap Winnie’s shoulder.
She turns to regard you, ‘Hey, what’s up?’
‘Can I talk to you for a second?’ 
‘Sure.’
She excuses herself from Baltasar, who’s really displeased with your intrusion, and you find a quiet corner. 
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, everything’s fine, the art’s great, but I’m not feeling too hot.’
‘Oh no,’ her brows knit in concern, ‘is it morning sickness?’ 
She’s buying it, good. 
‘I think I’m going to head home, you know, to lie down for a couple hours.’ 
‘Yeah, alright,’ she takes your hand in hers and lightly squeezes it. 
‘But how will you get back to the apartment?’ 
You are her ride home after all. 
‘I was planning on spending the rest of the afternoon with Baltasar,’ she looks over her shoulder at him and when she looks back at you, she’s blushing, ‘but what about you? Are you fine to drive in your condition?’ 
‘It’s just a little nausea, I promise I’ll be fine.’ 
It takes a minute to convince her, but you don’t relent, and in the end, you manage to convince her. 
‘Now go,’ you nudge her towards her waiting love interest. ‘Have fun with your boyfriend–’
‘Uh, he’s not my boyfriend,’ she quickly interjects, her voice dropping to a scolding whisper. 
You smile knowingly, sure he isn’t. 
‘What makes you say he’s my boyfriend? Did he say something to you?’
‘No, but I saw the way you were looking at him,’ you shrug, ‘the way he was looking at you.’ 
Winnie’s uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. 
‘I’ve clearly misread the situation,’ you start backing away from her. ‘But we’ll talk more about it later, okay?’
‘Promise to text me when you get home.’ 
‘I pinky promise to call you when I get home,’ you blow her a kiss. 
You wave goodbye to Baltsar, who seems pleased to see you go, and then you’re out of there. 
It’s a short drive home from the gallery, and you’re glad to be back home, but you wish Jude was here with you.
You: I miss you.
As soon as the message’s sent, you regret sending it. But you can always blame pregnancy for making you so clingy. 
You fall back onto the bed with a long exhale. What to do with your time? You could watch a movie or you could go the self-care route. 
The other day, a skincare brand sent you a few collagen face masks you’ve been dying to try. It’s one of those that melts into your skin. And since you’re on that path, you can also soak in the tub ‘cause you haven’t done that in a while. And if you’re really up to it, maybe you can do your nails. 
But first: 
You: Got home safe. Have fun with your friend ;) can’t wait to hear about it later x
Jude misses you too. He’s also still with his parents but should be home before dinner.  
You: Did you tell them about… 🫄
Jude: No. I thought we’d do it together.
That’s a good plan. 
You: Great idea. I’ll see you later, I love you x
Jude: I love you more 😘
Dinner time’s a while away, so you’ve got plenty of time to have your self-care afternoon. 
The tub is halfway full, the bubbles foaming, the steam and aroma engulfing the space when your phone notifies you that someone’s at the door. 
Your body’s sheathed by a robe, but you still feel indecent as you make your way to the door. 
The doorbell goes off a second time just before you reach the door, and when you open it, the last person you expect to find standing on the other side of it is Coralie. 
Yes, Coralie’s at your door and she looks like. . . Well, she looks like shit. 
‘Y/N,’ she forces her lips into a tight smile. ‘Hi.’ 
The shock has you frozen for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. ‘Jude’s not home.’ 
You’re curt because you want her out of your sight and you’ve left the water running in the bathroom. 
‘I know he isn’t.’
She does?
‘I’m not here to see Jude, I’m actually here to see you.’
Of course she’s here to see you. 
‘Why?’
‘‘Cause there’s so much we need to talk about, woman to woman.’ 
“Woman to woman”, what a joke? And it takes everything in you to stop your eyes from rolling. What the fuck does that even mean?
‘Can’t we schedule this for another time? I’m kinda in a rush.’
‘It won’t take long, I promise.’ 
Hell, she can’t take a hint, can she?
‘Can I come in?’
‘We can’t talk about whatever it is here?’ you tighten your grip around the door handle to stop your hand from shaking. ‘I mean, you said it yourself, it won’t take long.’
‘Yeah, but it’s weird doing it at the door, so can I come in?’
‘You’re in no position to call the shots.’ 
‘Please,’ she sounds desperate. ‘I just need ten minutes of your time, then I promise I’ll go.’ 
The more you look at her, the worse she looks. Honestly, she looks like she’s been to hell and back, and if you didn’t hate her so much, you’d feel sympathy. 
‘Ten minutes, then you have to leave.’ 
‘That’s all I ask, thank you.’
And so despite your better judgement, you step to one side to allow her into the apartment. As you shut the door, you offer her a drink.
‘I’ll have a water, thank you.’
‘We’ve got water in the fridge.’ You walk towards your bedroom to shut off the running water, ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’ 
On the short trek, you dig your phone from your robe pocket. 
You: Coralie’s here she says she wants to talk but i’m uneasy
You shut the faucet. You quickly change out of your robe into the first clothing items you stumble upon, which are the sweats Jude was wearing earlier. They’re loosely fitting, but they’re comforting because they smell like him.
Coralie’s in the living room, bottle of water in hand, and she’s focused on something out the window. 
‘Sorry I took so long.’
Your sudden intrusion snaps her out of her reverie, ‘It’s fine.’ 
Her eyes are fixed on you as you move around the space to take your seat on the sectional, feet tucked beneath your bum. 
This is so awkward. 
‘So,’ you start, breaking the ice, ‘you said you wanted to talk?’
You heard Jude out, so it’s only fair that you hear Coralie’s side of the story. 
‘Right,’ she clears her throat. ‘I assume you know about our. . .’
‘Affair?’
She winces at your choice of words. 
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘And he told you everything?’ 
‘That you got drunk last December and hooked up? That you’ve been hooking up behind my back for the last six months?’
She sits perfectly still, but her trembling lower lip betrays her. 
‘That you were sending inappropriate texts, pictures, and videos. . .’ you continue, pleased to see her squirm in her seat. ‘Am I missing anything else?’ 
It’s only been, what? Five days since you last saw her, but in the short time span, she’s aged a decade. Coralie’s never disclosed her age, but you’ve always placed her in her late-twenties, maybe early-thirties, but today she looks well into her forties.
‘How did you find out?’
‘I saw the drunk text you sent him, what did it say again?’ you pause for dramatic effect. ‘Right, “I’m drunk and I miss you. Call me.”’ 
She’s fidgeting with the bottle in her hand, her head bowing in shame. ‘Y/N, I’m really sorry.’
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘All of it.’ She looks up at you, ‘I’m sorry that you found out the way you did.’ 
You hear her, but you’re not ready to accept her apology. Especially because she’s cutting into your self-care time with this crap. 
‘Who made the first move?’ 
‘Jude did.’
Your heart aches at the revelation, it’s like someone has driven a sharp knife into it. 
‘He was upset at you, he didn’t say why but he was really cut up about a fight you had,’ she proceeds. ‘And if it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else.’
You think you might throw up. 
‘But he was drunk, we both were, and. . .’ her voice trails. 
An uncomfortable silence descends upon the room because really, what else is there to say? 
‘Do you love him?’ 
‘Does it matter?’
It doesn’t matter, but you want to know. Let’s say it’s curiosity.
‘He’s hard not to love.’
That’s true.
‘But am I in love with him? No.’ 
Some of the tension in your shoulders eases. 
‘And he doesn’t love me either,’ and she almost sounds sad when she says that. ‘It was only ever sex between us, nothing more.’
But the texts. . . what did they mean? 
‘Nothing,’ she insists. ‘Call it harmless flirtation.’
‘Harmless?’
She flushes, ‘You know what I mean.’ 
So you now know that he was mad at you, they were both drunk, they fucked and you think Coralie regrets it, but you’re not sure. 
‘Who pursued it?’ 
‘What?’ 
‘Your. . . thing, the affair,’ it irks you to say it. 
‘Oh, Y/N, I don’t think you–’ 
‘Was it Jude?’ 
‘He loves you.’
‘I know he loves me.’ 
Coralie’s quiet which furthers your frustration at her. 
‘Did he pursue the affair?’
‘Why does it matter? It doesn’t change anything because in the end, he chose you.’ It’s like it pains her to say it. ‘He’ll always choose you.’
You nod. 
After another long and awkward silence, she professes, ‘You know, I felt awful deceiving you because you really are such a good person.’
‘Don’t start with that crap.’ 
‘No, I mean it. You’re a good person, and we were friends–’
‘We were never friends,’ you interrupt. ‘You were never my friend.’ 
You tolerated her, there’s a difference. 
‘I know you’re upset with me, and trust me, I get it, but come on,’ she persists. ‘We were friendly with each other.’ 
‘You sleep with all your friends’ boyfriends?’ 
That shuts her up. 
‘Look, Coralie, I appreciate the apology,’ you pull your phone from the sweatpants pocket to check the time and discover eight missed calls from Jude. ‘But you said you’d be here for ten minutes, and you’ve exceeded that time.’ 
‘I know, and I’m really sorry about that, but there’s one last thing I want to tell you.’ 
Your stomach twists with dread—she better not tell you that she’s pregnant. The cheating you can move past, but a child you can’t recover from. 
‘You’re pregnant?’ 
‘What?’ She looks offended that you’d even ask her that question. ‘No, I’m not pregnant.’
You sigh in relief. 
She’s not pregnant, but she did lose her job. She received the call this morning to let her know that her services were no longer required by the club. She’s certain Jude had something to do with it, so she’s here to plead with you to talk sense into him. 
‘And I meant what I said, I really am sorry for the inconvenience that I’ve caused in your life, but Y/N, I really need this job,’ she concludes. 
‘How are you so sure he had something to do with it?’ 
She shoots you an incredulous look as if to say, ‘Really?’ 
‘And if he did have something to do with it, what makes you think he’d listen to anything I have to say?’ 
‘Because you told him to end our arrangement and he did.’
‘But you said it yourself, you mean nothing to him.’ 
She flinches again. 
‘I mean, I can try to talk to him, but I can’t promise you anything.’ 
‘Thank you,’ she smiles. ‘That’s all I ask.’ 
‘Well, like I said, I have somewhere to be so–’
You don’t get to finish the sentence, ‘cause you’re cut off by a panicked Jude who storms into the apartment, followed by an equally panicked Mark. 
‘Babe?’ 
Thank the heavens he’s here.
///
You wake up in the middle of the night to find Jude’s side of the bed empty. At first you think he’s in the bathroom, but when five minutes pass and he’s not back, the panic sets in. You grab your phone off of the bedside table to check the time: 2:38. 
Where the hell is he?
You sit up and search the dark room for traces of him, but there’s nothing—only his phone on the bedside table.
It’s been hours since your confrontation with Coralie, but you’re yet to process it all. You’re still in shock at the fact that she rocked up at your door the way she did, but you’d be lying if you said the conversation wasn’t cathartic. 
‘Jude?’ 
You push the covers away and climb off of the bed. After you locate your house shoes, you set out to find him. 
His phone is here, so he shouldn’t be far. 
‘Jude?’ 
As you make your trek down the short passage, you hear soft chatter coming from the TV room. When you turn the corner, you find Jude sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet resting on the coffee table. 
A smile takes over your face at the sight of him. 
‘Hey, you,’ he greets you as you crawl into his lap. 
‘Hi,’ you tuck your face in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. ‘What are you watching?’ 
‘Pulp Fiction.’
Of course he is. 
‘Why’re you up?’ 
You trace patterns on his t-shirt clad chest. ‘I woke up and you weren’t in bed. I panicked.’
He tightens his arms around you, ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ you sit up. ‘This pregnancy has me acting weird.’ 
‘Yeah, blame it on the pregnancy,’ he teases. 
‘Shut up,’ you shift to straddle him. ‘Why are you sitting here alone?’
His hands settle on your waist, ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’
There’s still so much to discuss in terms of Coralie and her claims, but tonight just isn’t the time for that.
‘Do you think we’ll ever be okay again?’ 
‘Yeah,’ he takes your mouth into a deep kiss. 
‘Come to bed with me,’ you whisper against his lips, moaning when he slips a hand between you, teasing his fingers through your slick folds. 
‘I don’t think we’ll make it to bed.’ 
///
Tagged:
@luv4bellingham
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spicybylerpolls · 2 days
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Here me out, I am not against a byler sex scene cause I don’t think it would be anything remotely explicit anyways so discussing it in depth for me feels pointless, but I have issues with tying a sex scene into the character arcs of mike and will as if it’s the only logical way to wrap up their story, only because had there not been a pandemic and multiple delays, byler would have happened while at least one of them was still a MINOR (maybe both I would have to do the math) and there’s no way the show woulda had a sex scene in those circumstances so it’s more likely to me that having a sex scene—while it would be interesting to go there now that the actors are older—it is not the end all be all for their character arcs and not something that *has* to happen for their end narrative to make sense, since it probably was not going to happen in the first place. So maybe let’s reframe the discussion away from “they have to bone or else all the build up and such makes no sense it’s the only way to end things because blah blah blah” and more as it would be fun/cool/hot to see something more adult now that they ARE actual adults, and it would feel satisfying to their story, but that’s it. cause some people are starting to feel so passionate about the idea that i am concerned they are going to make themselves very angry if there isn’t one …
Hmm, I kinda see your point, but I also feel like there's no real point in speculating about what might have happened in the hypothetical past where the pandemic and the strikes didn't happen because A) we don't live in that timeline lol, and B) the Duffers have always had the ending in the show in mind from the jump and many/most of the beats they knew they needed to hit along the way, BUT I personally don't think they've planned out literally every single detail from the start with no wiggle room.
The writers have said as much, like for example when they tweeted all the crazy things that were supposed to happen in season 2 like possessed Will killing Bob or El mercy killing her mom. They've definitely added and subtracted some things along the way.
Beyond that, regardless of the ages of Finn and Noah, it's not outlandish to argue that sex is still thematically connected to the characters and their arcs. Byler is a story about sexuality, of which sexual attraction and, well, sex play a huge role.
And ST is a coming-of-age show, of which sex often plays a huge role regardless of the age of the actors. During S3, the writers didn't shy away from including sexual themes such as Max's happy screams comment, and the actors were still minors then. Every season has progressed these themes further. The writers and filmmakers are the ones putting the sexual symbolism and jokes into the story, and we're just picking up what they're putting down, right?
Like, I don't think Murray using the phrase "experiment sexually" was accidental, nor was hosegate, nor was Mike checking out Will's ass lol. It's all fair game when you're telling this kind of story (as long as you're creating a safe and comfortable set, of course). Because of this, IMO, there's a high chance the ST writers would've still at least implied that Byler had sex even in your hypothetical scenario. There actually isn't a hard-and-fast rule that prevents actors who aren't legal adults yet from acting out light, non-explicit sex scenes.
You say that, "byler would have happened while at least one of them was still a MINOR (maybe both I would have to do the math) and there’s no way the show woulda had a sex scene in those circumstances," and I understand why you'd say this, but if you look closer at films and shows in media history, that's not always true. I can name several shows and films that call this theory into question.
While it's true that most modern shows with teen sex scenes do tend to also have adults already playing teenagers- there's a whole page on TV Tropes about this phenomenon called Dawson Casting- (and these tend to show a lot of skin, i.e. Euphoria), which makes it easier to explore sexual storylines, that's not the case across the board.
In your hypothetical scenario, the Byler sex scene obviously wouldn't have been an explicit one (and no one's saying it will absolutely be that way now either), but that doesn't really mean it wouldn't have existed in some form. There are many examples of coming-of-age shows/movies where the actors were technically still underage at the time of filming, and it showed them making out intensely before cutting out (and sex was implied) or it showed something slightly more (closer to Stancy) but still not anywhere near HBO-level.
McLovin's sex scene in Superbad comes to mind (his actor was still 17 at the time, and his mother had to watch while it was being filmed). Thora Birch was 16 when American Beauty was filmed. More recently, there was the Jevon sex scene in Chucky this season. Devon's actor recently turned 18, but Jake's actor is still 17. And yet the season was non-subtly building up to the scene, it was 100% tastefully done, and it cut away before anything super specific happened.
Now that both Finn and Noah ARE adults, and we know there will definitely be a time jump, this hypothetical is extra meaningless. And if the Duffers want to go further and bolder with a Byler sex scene, they can, even if this wasn't the original plan. And there's lots of brilliant analysis that argues the Duffers have been planting the seeds for a while for at least some kind of sexual resolution.
But your assertion that, "some people are starting to feel so passionate about the idea that i am concerned they are going to make themselves very angry if there isn’t one" doesn't seem based in reality either. Spicy bylers might want a sex scene, and many might believe there at least will be something implied like Jancy, but I don't think anyone will actually be angry if there isn't one. Correct me if I'm wrong? I think most people are just happy there's a space to talk about Byler in unfiltered ways, to analyze the mature themes of the show, and also to have fun while doing so, especially since the season is still a ways away. It's not like people will actually fist fight the Duffers if Mike isn't moaning and giving Will backshots in S5 💀.
What do y'all think?
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reel-fear · 23 days
Text
Honestly, every single time the whole 'poppy playtime is a bendy rip-off' stuff ever shows up I find it all extremely unconvincing and silly.
For one thing, rip-off usually is meant to imply that it's a cheap lazy copy of a better more polished thing, and uh. Sorry but even from chapter 1? Poppy Playtime is a better game than Bendy, it has a simple but understandable story, the game manages to be thrilling, creepy, and very intense at times... I mean that Huggy chase in the vents ALONE puts it way above Batim for me.
I mean BATDR had the most slow stupid chase I've ever seen [and every other encounter with the ink demon is text telling u he's there and then a timer goes down and u get jumpscared] and batim's chases were either silly or just not nearly as theatric or terrifying as that.
When making the vent sequence I mean not only is it absolutely horrifying to realize how fast Huggy is in there but also it's so theatric and cool? The fact that you round a corner after thinking you escaped only to see a terrifying animation of that thing crawling toward you is awesome! I wish Bendy had stuff like that!
And all the stuff it shares with Bendy are generic things Bendy ripped from other horror games/media anyways. I'm not saying Poppy Playtime isn't inspired by Bendy I for sure think it is but Bendy is such a generic story that somehow fails to do tropes 100 other horror games have done any comparison only makes Poppy Playtime look better.
"It has employees being sacrificed for their company" That is not a concept Bendy invented, literally look at any of the sci-fi horror series Bendy is very inspired by. This is literally a twist in the original Alien.
"It has a scary woman forcing you to do tasks for her" Once again, not a concept Bendy invented, a scary mysterious person forcing you to do fetch-quests is a concept found in tons of horror media. And at least Poppy Playtime gave you a chase with her and let you defeat her, look at poor malice. She's barely on screen for more than 10 minutes before she gets stabbed.
"It has a cult worshipping the monster" This is something tons of horror games and media have done too. I mean In The Tall Grass has a guy who worships a giant magical rock in the middle of a grass maze, Bioshock [which Bendy has only been taking more and more direct inspiration from while failing to grab any of the compelling parts] also had a lot of themes of religion and cult-ish behavior, almost every horror media franchise has at one point done a cult thing.
Bendy couldn't even come up with a reason Sammy worships the ink demon, the best motivation we've ever gotten is just that 'he's crazzyyyy the ink made him insaneeee'. Who is the cheap rip-off here?
At least Poppy Playtime gave their cultist a motive for worshipping the monster + a proper boss fight that feels intense and looks awesome! Bendy didn't even let you kill Malice [she got stabbed in front of you and then just collapsed on the floor how thrilling] meanwhile you get to kill three of the villains in Poppy Playtime and the gameplay and action in those scenes have only gotten better as the game went on.
I mean Sammy walks into a room and goes "AAA SCARY I'M BEING MURDERED" then later shows up and for NO REASON sees a normal human man and assumes it's the ink demon before once again someone else kills him for you. In Poppy Playtime you defeat Catnap as he floods the world with this horrible nightmare-inducing gas that intensifies the color palette and his design. Fight off versions of him that are illusions that you need your flare gun for, then watch in a wonderful animation as he mistakes the monster for his savior before getting killed by it, in a brutal way I might add, which game are we accusing of being cheap, lazy garbage again?
I just find this argument to be people who Really Really need to find a reason to hate Poppy Playtime which I think is silly. The devs being weird, shady people is already enough reason to dislike the game, you don't need to invent reasons why secretly every part of the game is malicious or bad. But esp when I see Bendy fans saying they don't support Poppy Playtime or dislike it bc of its devs or even saying its cringe ummmm.
I have bad news about the fact Bendy's devs are worse and it took not one, but TWO over an hour long videos to cover it all. Plus the Bendy games are just the worse games in every aspect, if I could sell my batim copy for a copy of Poppy Playtime I wouldn't hesitate at all.
Saying this as a bendy fan, we have no right to be super judgy towards Poppy Playtime. If Poppy Playtime is embarrassing cringe, Bendy is too and is way more embarrassing of an interest. We shouldn't spread misinformation just because we all want to hate Poppy Playtime, you can dislike Poppy Playtime without making up a bunch of nonsense to justify it.
Honestly seeing people just blatantly be unfairly mean to Poppy Playtime only makes its critics look worse and makes it hard to take any backlash to the games seriously. Because surprise surprise if you spread misinformation to make a point people will quickly stop listening to Anything you have to say bc they won't trust you're telling the truth anymore.
#feel free to reblog but Im not gonna tag this its way too rambley at least for my taste to go in the main tags#ramblez#also man can I say I didnt want to make this post super long but theres so many other points I could make in poppys favor#the fact we got to see the hour of joy and it was terrifying we dont even know if joey actually killed anyone anymore#the gameplay itself is more diverse and fun then batim which is a walking simulator that pretends to have fighting n stealth mechanics#at least Poppy n Missys friendship gives u a reason to care for missys safety before shes put in danger#Missy can actually express unlike Boris who sits there looking cute with no proper expressions until he gets yoinked and ur supposed to car#bc he was uh adorable? And therefore you spend an entire chapter tryna get him and get an extremely bad boss fight in return-#also soundtrack wise I like poppys tracks more theyre unique and fun and you can tell which part of the game they come from#bendy has so many dramatic reveal stingers and tracks that are really hard to tell which part of the game they come from#bertrums boss fight has my favorite theme bc its so specifically crafted for him and unique and meanwhile Norman has one of the worst imo#a lot of Bendys soundtrack if I played it for you right now it would be hard to guess where its from bc it all kinda sounds the same#the reveal music for the machine for bendy land for heavenly toys for alices domain all sound the same x_x#its just so frustrating but yeah my point is can we all stop making up new reasons to shit on poppy playtime its just kinda dumb#it feels less like actual criticism and at this point just feels like elaborate justification for cringe culture which I hate#okay thats it bye sorry this is 10 pages long-
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lollytea · 2 years
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I am thinking about an AU where Gus and Hunter meet under different circumstances and Hunter begrudgingly agrees to escort Gus on a cross country adventure and its basically the plot of Brother Bear
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perenlop · 1 year
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have no real desire to replay star allies’s main story mode but i do wanna rewatch some cutscenes to refresh myself on the mage sisters dynamic and hyness bc ive been thinking about my “magolor was also raised by hyness alongside the mage sisters” hc/au
#estranged brother they dont talk about anymore bc he got out of the cult basically#i think the way he took in magolor was very different from the sisters. while he got the sisters when they were all desperate#and on the brink of death i think he took in magolor as a baby#while the sisters are not jambandran or halcandran. magolor is clearly a halcandran descendant and boy does hyness project that onto him#*projects his beef with the halcandrans onto mag#and this is why despite the ancients/halcandrans being more invested in technology#their descendant magolor is a mage who has religious connotations with his story#(ik the jambandran religion doesnt reflect christianity at all but still)#basically bc thats what he was actually raised with. nature vs nurture and all that#and i think thats like part of where his fucked up views on relationships come from too bc hyness was definitely hard on him#and hyness's relationship w the sisters was canonically very fucked up and forced and born through manipulation#and i think hyness actually would have thrown him out instead of mag leaving of his own accord#(bc mag was obsessed with his ancestors and wanted to be like them and that pissed hyness off)#i also think that like mag was treated harshly and when he left zan was the one to get the worst of hyness's abuse#bc the roles shifted and now shes the one being isolated and forced to depend only on his religion and devotion#(can u tell im not a fan of how hyness was canonically handled. im leaning into him being a literal cult leader in my head lol)#bc textually thats just what he is and im kinda miffed that the dlc just glosses over it w ''oh he was nice at some point tho''#why were ppl comparing magolor to lusamine when hyness is the one who actually has the same writing issues as her#anyways tho back to mag. yeah hyness shaped his worldviews and shit#oh my god wait i could also say that part of magolor's robe is based off of hyness's look#and how magolor basically puts his face on everything#and you can take two things from that. one is that hyness perhaps forced it onto him to the point where mag keeps that part of the robe#even after hes been kicked out. and him losing that part of it in his dream robe design is him finally moving on from him#and the alternative is that magolor added that to his robe out of spite bc iirc hyness does not like his face#and magolor was like ''well ok fuck you dad''#which makes him putting his face on everything even funnier hes like advertising his dads face kinda#echoed voice
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semercury · 11 months
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fox-guardian · 2 months
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[ID: An eight page digital comic featuring Sam, Celia, and Alice from The Magnus Protocol on a gray background. The characters are all colored with a single color each. Sam is red, Celia is green, and Alice is pink. Sam is a fat Arab man with short curly dark hair, a mustache, and a small goatee, and he is wearing small black earrings, a cardigan, a turtleneck, trousers and loafers. Celia is a taller Korean woman with short dark hair and she is wearing rectangular glasses, piercings including an industrial piercing, an x-shaped earring, and snakebites, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a vest, trousers, and black wrist cuffs. Alice is an even taller white woman with long fluffy hair and crooked teeth, and she is wearing cat eye glasses, three pairs of earrings, snakebites, a flannel shirt, a hoodie tied around her waist, a patchwork skirt, bracelets, and a lanyard.
Sam and Celia are stood at a table covered in papers. Celia urgently turns to Sam. Celia: Alice is coming! She can't catch us researching, we need a diversion, QUICK! How can we make her think we're not doing what we're doing? Sam, shrugging really hard: UHHHH she thinks I have a crush on you?? Celia, sweating, turns back to where Alice is coming from, panicked, and turns back to Sam, shrugging and reaching for him. Celia smiling a bit manically: Yeah, that'll work, sure!
Sam, with Celia's hands grabbing his cardigan: Wait whaAAAA- He is pulled out of frame. Alice walks in: Hey Sam, working hard or hardly woOOOAA She leans on the doorframe as she holds a hand to her chest in shock.
The next panel is rendered with soft pink shadows and "shoujo sparkles" in the now pink background. Sam is sitting on the table holding onto Celia, whose face is buried in his neck as she wraps one arm around his back and the other holds up one of his legs under his knee. Neither of their faces are visible. The rest of the page fades back to gray from there. Sam and Celia look over at Alice, hair ruffled, Sam is now blushing. Sam: ALICE!! He pushes Celia away and they look at each other for a moment, panicked. Sam: It's- .... exactly what it looks like! Celia: Aw, you've caught us! He rests his hands on her shoulders and they both look in opposite directions as though embarrassed. Celia is also blushing lightly. There are red and green neon signs pointing to them reading "Totally Ham-Slammin'" and "GAY! (in an M/F way)" respectively.
Alice looks to be in shock with a vacant expression and a computer pop up over her forehead reading "Alice.exe has stopped responding". In the next panel she is fine again and back to smirking. Alice: WOW SAM, didn't know you had it in you! Now I'm no snitch, so I didn't see anything, BUT- you lovebirds should cut it out before Gwen catches you. Celia and Sam look at each other anxiously, cheeks pressed together as she speaks. Alice: You KNOW she'd tell Lena. Celia, pulling back and smoothing her hair out: Oh, for sure. Sam: Th-Thanks, Alice. Alice: Don't mention it! I'll give you crazy kids a minute to straighten up, TA-TA~ She waves as she leaves.
Sam and Celia listen to her steps fade before going "phew" and finally pulling away from each other, now holding hands at an arms distance. Celia: You alright? That was kinda sudden.... Sam: It's fine! Just a bit caught off guard. Celia: I can't believe she actually bought all of that! Sam: Me either! Works for me, though.
Celia: Did you want to get down- Sam, pulling away suddenly, blushing again: NO! He crosses his legs and looks away sheepishly, scratching his head. Sam: I wanna stay here another minute or so.... Celia, concerned: You sure you're alright? Sam: Yeah! Just, er.... Celia looks at him, confused. Sam, blushing increasingly harder: Ahem. (He folds his hands in his lap politely.) I am not immune to being thrown on a table. Celia, smiling and politely stepping away: AH! .... Noted~
She walks away casually, still smiling. Celia: I'll give you a minute to collect yourself. Sam, head down in his lap, embarrassed: Thanks.... He looks up after she leaves. Sam: Wait. He straightens up, slightly panicked, face entirely red. Sam: What do you mean by "NOTED"?!
end ID]
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i am SO glad this episode didn't entirely debunk the silly headcanon that birthed this comic. initially i wasn't convinced sam actually had a crush so i made this like "well if he didn't before, HE DOES NOW" so.... here's this silly comic thing <3 i just think they're neat <3
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ghostskiss · 9 months
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Handle It
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Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader WC: 5.1k Summary: Reader is taking a shower and someone decides to crash the party. Warnings: 18+ Exhibitionism (risk of getting caught), shower sex (kinda), SUB SIMON, teasing, begging, sub to dom to…sub, finger sucking, oral, fingering, penetration, overstimulation, spit, creampie
Hot water beads down your back. Well, maybe that’s a bit too generous. It’s hardly trickling out of the showerhead above you, and the water’s lukewarm at best. But it feels great, your eyes are closing, your muscles are relaxing, and you almost forget that it’s a communal shower. That anyone could walk in and join you at another showerhead, there’s several in here, meant to get a group of people clean to save time. Time’s important in the military, you know this. So does everyone else, but there’s an unspoken rule. If someone’s in the showers, you don’t join unless absolutely necessary.
Which is why you’re allowing yourself this moment. You’d announced to the group that you were hitting the showers after the operation. And true to your word, as soon as you’d stepped out of the vehicle, you beelined it to the building. Soap joked about joining you, earning a punch from someone in result. You hadn’t cared to look behind you to confirm who it was, instead you’d waved a hand over your shoulder, acknowledging that you’d heard him, but wasn’t threatened by his constant yet harmless flirts. It was how you two communicated. It was a nice break in the violence and mayhem Task Force 141 found yourselves in. Even if Ghost and Price rolled their eyes at the banter, you could tell it eased their nerves at times. It’s hard to hold onto humanity when you see the worst of it day end and day out.
Getting the bar of soap into your hands, you rub it against your skin, ridding yourself of the dirt and grime from today’s work. It’s normal to get dirty doing what you do, and yet no matter how you wash yourself, it feels as though you’re never clean. You’d scrubbed your skin raw once, after a mission, coming out of the showers with irritated skin. Still. You were never clean. Today didn’t feel like that. The operation went well. There was no killing, no torture, and for once, it was an easy day. You want to savor this feeling, knowing that today went right, how relaxing the water is, feeling somewhat clean despite the past.
A knock rings through the showers, bouncing off the walls. The soap slips through your fingers as you jump with sound, the relaxing feeling you had now long gone. The knock has authority to it. It has impatience. Gritting your teeth, you rinse off quickly before turning the knob to shut the water off. You leave the poor soap on the ground, moving to the cement wall separating the showers from the door of the building.
“What?” You call out, a little irritated. Sure, you’d been in here for a bit longer than normal. But it was the one time you’d actually felt…nice.
A deep voice from behind the closed door comes to you. You resist an urge to roll your eyes. Ghost.
“Been in there a bit. Other people would like to clean themselves before heading in for the night.”
This, you do roll your eyes at. He’s right. You’re hogging the shower, but there’s an unspoken…thing you have against Ghost. He’s stoic and a bit miserable to be around if you’re being honest. He’s too serious, all the time, he never likes to have fun, and if you and Soap are going back and forth, he’s got to voice his displeasure. You secretly think he’s jealous. You think that he either is jealous of the relationship you have with Soap, or he’s jealous of Soap. Probably the former since you two can hardly stand each other.
Sighing out, you cross your arms over your naked chest. Right, you’d almost forgotten where you were.
“Well,” you start out, a bit snarky, “there’s always room, Lt.”
You’re joking, obviously, already moving to wrap a towel around your body. Without waiting for whatever response your lieutenant is trying to muster up, you cross the space from the cement wall to the door, hand gripping the handle to wrench it open.
There he is, in all his glory, towering over you. He’s ditched the mask he wears in operations or important meetings, donning his comfortable skulled balaclava. In fact, he’s changed out of most of his gear. Bare hands, black Henley shirt rolled up to his elbows. Of course, his lower half is clothed in his usual black pants, and he still has his boots on. Yet he looks more naked and vulnerable than you do in your little white towel. He looks at a loss of words.
A playful look crosses your features, a smirk teasing your lips as you prop a hand on your hip. Before you can get a word out, Ghost shifts forward quickly with a grumble tumbling out of his chest, pushing you back into the building with his presence alone. You frown a bit as you move backwards to accommodate his size as the door behind him closes you both in, confused as he glares down at you.
“Christ, could you not waltz around in nothing but bloody a towel?”
Another attempt to not roll your eyes comes over you. “What’re you, shy? It’s not like I’m completely naked.” You gesture at yourself; it’d be as if you were wearing a strapless dress. Granted, the towel is tiny, you’re wet from the shower, and you’re definitely not wearing any panties. Still, you had no idea Ghost was such a prude.
“Really?” Ghost’s gaze trails hotly down the front of your body. Suddenly your face feels hot. He’s never once looked at you like this. Like he’d…
A shaky breath escapes you before you laugh it off, “If you can’t handle me in a towel after shower, I doubt you’d be able to handle being around me in the actual showers.” You jerk a thumb over your shoulder as you watch his gaze follow it behind you. He can see the room of showers over the wall. You think you see his jaw clench under his mask.
This is bad. You’re jokingly teasing him the way you and Soap talk. This is uncharted territory, and you’re not sure you can keep the act up. With Soap, it’s harmless fun. You both know you’re not interested in each other. It’s easy to try to get a reaction out of each other, to see who says the most ridiculous shit first. It’s a stupid game. With Ghost, it’s dangerous. It’s nerve wrecking. It’s serious because he’s serious.
Suddenly he’s looking back down at you. You try not to fidget as you stare back at him. You can’t read him. You’re about to talk to break whatever this tension is, about to tell him the showers are his.
“No, I probably can’t.”
Did his voice drop an octave? Why was it making your skin heat? What was going on right now? You feel like your brain is malfunctioning. Your gaze drops down to the broad slope of his shoulders, and down his frame, distracted a bit. Of course, he’s attractive. You’d be insane to not think so. Even if you’ve never seen his face. It’s the way he holds himself, it’s the way he’s built, it’s his damned voice, and his eyes and everything else. But he’s your lieutenant for Christ’s sake. He’s mean sometimes. He’s ruthless, a brute, a –
“Let me see. I want to try. To… handle it.”
You freeze, eyes shooting back up to his. “You -?”
His chin dips to your towel, “Take it off.”
For a moment, you’re both watching each other. Ghost’s got his eyes on yours, unwavering. He’s really serious about this, you realize. Your thighs are clenching together now, trying to relieve the ache. You were joking, you think, about him not handling it in the showers. Now you’re thinking maybe you’re the one who can’t.
Shakenly, your hands raise to the knot tied at your breast. Your actions stop for a moment, silently waiting for him to tell you to stop. The command never comes. You can’t believe you’re doing this, bearing yourself for your broody and moody higher up. For him. All because you don’t want to back out on what you started. Suddenly, you want to prove him wrong. That he can’t handle it. That you’re not affected at all by his words or actions, or more importantly his inactions. The towel drops.
It’s loud with how silent it is in the room. Who knew a damp towel could be so loud? Your gaze doesn’t leave his, holding it, even as you stand bare in front of him. A smirk quirks your lips. He’s avoiding looking at you. That’s how he thinks he can move around the situation at hand.
Testing him, your hand brushes against your own collarbone, trailing slowly -- tantalizingly slow. Still, his eyes never wander from your own. So, this is how you could play games with Ghost. It’ll be fun to see him break.
“You’re not looking,” you start, stating the obvious.
“Never said I had to. Only said that I could handle being around you.” He shrugs, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he won the game.
You laugh a little at that, and watch his eyes ever so slightly dip to your lips before coming back up to your eyes. Your own hands are wandering your body now, groping a bit at your chest. His hands clench at his sides.
“Are you going to take a shower, Lt?” A breathless noise leaves you as you ask, your fingers pinching one of your nipples. Fuck him. You’re so turned on right now it’s ridiculous. He doesn’t have to look. Just the thought of being here in front of him while he’s fully clothed doing this, while the two of you are alone and anyone could walk in –
“No. And quit that.” He growls out, knocking your hand away from your breast. He still hasn’t looked, but you’re guessing he’s getting a view from his peripherals.
“Quit what?” You feign innocence, your hand that’d been knocked away now dips in between your thighs eliciting a soft moan from your lips. “You said you’d try. If you’re not going to take a shower, you can watch.”
Ghost has no words for you now, his pupils dilating before your very eyes. Spreading your legs a bit wider to get a better reach on yourself, you continue. Slow pressing circles on your clit, your arousal slicking loudly in the air. Your free hand goes back up to your tits, to continue groping, pinching, pulling.
Finally, he breaks. He breaks when your pussy squelches around your own fingers, his burning gaze trailing down your body to the hand that’s pulling such noises out of you. A groan sets loose from him, and you shudder from the mere sound.
“Kneel.”
Ghost’s eyes shoot back up to yours in question.
“Kneel, I said. You can get a better look.” Your tone is set in stone. Despite the burning ache you’ve got, the need for him to touch you, you feel in control.
He hesitates for a moment before lowering himself down to the ground, knees pressing against the cement. His eyes have yet to leave yours.
“You can look but don’t touch.” Your breath hitches, arousal seeping into your very being seeing him like this. Listening to your commands. You watch his hands clench on his thighs, his attention going back to your pussy. Your breath hitches at his stare, feeling the heat of it. He doesn’t have to touch for you to feel his attention. It’s making you sloppy, messy, and wet. You keen, a brief thought of asking him to touch you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Staring down at him as your fingers continue to tease yourself, you watch him just as intently as he’s watching you. He seems fixated. You wonder if he’s drooling in his own mask. The front of his pants looks tight. His hands are clenching and unclenching on his thighs, his shoulders shuddering when you make a noise in the back of your throat. You watch him tense as you ease a finger in yourself. Your clit is throbbing, aching, begging for attention, you’re teasing yourself just as much as you’re teasing him. Slowly pumping the one finger in yourself, you press another one in, mewling out as your hips buck a little upward.
“Let me taste you.” He rushes out suddenly. Ghost’s voice is gravel, scrapping across your body. Your head nearly tips back at the sound of it, another pitiful noise leaving your mouth.
 Stay strong. Stay strong. You shake your head, unable to give him an actual answer as your fingers create a devastatingly slow pace, slick coating your fingers and thighs.
“Fuck. What’ll take? Let me taste you.” He’s demanding now, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the material over his thighs.
You pant, trying not to stammer. “Beg.” It comes out stronger than you feel right now. Core burning with the need to come.
“Please.” He grits out through his teeth, angry eyes coming up to your glassy ones.
“You don’t sound sincere.” You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head again. Your fingers pause, coming out to press softly against your clit. If you press any harder, you have no doubt you’ll come. You don’t want to give it to him yet. Ghost watches the action, a growl coming from him.
“Please,” he tries again, looking back up at you to see if it was good enough. It’s not and you tsk at him. “Please, let me taste your pussy. Let me put my mouth on you. Please.”
The last plead is strained, almost a whine. Your fingers dip back in, curling as you pump them again. Your head falls forward a bit with a whine of your own and you try to gather your bearings. “How are you going to taste me with your mask on?”
Quickly, he tugs it upward, only exposing his mouth. Christ. His mouth. He’s got a scar running down his lips. His jaw is clenched, and you curse whoever created him. He’s handsome, even if you’re only seeing the bottom half of his face. You watch his tongue tease his full bottom lip, his mouth opening into a soft pant. He’s eager. You catch another whine in your throat, fingers leaving your pussy to press against his mouth, covered in your own wetness. He opens his mouth, latching onto them, sucking and licking, taking anything you have to offer.
You watch with a newfound feeling. Here you have your lieutenant on the ground, kneeling and begging, sucking your fingers like it’s his God given right. Like he has something to prove. That he’s desperate enough to be debased to nothing. He’s moaning at the taste of you, following your fingers as they leave his mouth, like he’s not ready to stop cleaning yourself from them. He’s tilting closer as he watches them disappear back to your throbbing sex.
“No,” you tell him, stopping him from following your fingers all the way, “that’s all you get.” You moan out, your fingers wet with his spit now circling your clit. You need to come like this, having him at his knees in front of you.
“W-wait. Please. I’ll do anything. Fuck, please. Let me give you what you want, I can make you cum. With my mouth please –”
His begging sends you over the edge, not stopping as you cry out loudly, pussy clenching on nothing as your fingers circle and circle. It’s long and crippling, and you almost feel your knees buckle, your free hand gripping the cement wall behind you. Fuck, he’s not shutting up. It drags it out, hearing him whine and beg, a man who you thought could never be like this. You rip your hand away from yourself, panting, thankful for the wall behind you holding you up. Your thighs are quivering and wet from the orgasm, breath trying to catch up to your pounding heart.
Ghost is quiet now, looking up at you, waiting for your next move. His mouth parts, like he’s going to start up again and you hush him.
“Clean me up.”
You barely have the sentence out before he’s shooting forwards, hands gripping your thighs to make room for himself. He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, tongue latching onto your already overstimulated clit. You cry out, hands shooting up to his masked head, trying to pull him away as he laps at your cream.
“A-ah, wait, Simon –” You start, squirming, trying to get away from his mouth and tongue. You feel him smile, the bastard.
“Think you can tease me like that? Huh?” He growls as he laps at you, tongue not missing an inch of your pussy. His words vibrate through you, not bothering to really pull away to talk. He’s violent in the way his mouth attacks you. “Think you can just do what you want to me?”
You stutter, about to apologize until he starts to add his fingers to the mix. Two thick fingers of his slam into you, pumping up as his tongue flicks your clit. You cry out, tears in your eyes as you take it. He’s going to make you come again, this fast. Too fast. You feel dizzy, vision fuzzy.
“Making me sit in front of this pretty pussy and not letting me touch or taste it.” He groans, and then chuckles as you bare down on his fingers, clenching hard. “Oh, you gonna come again pretty baby? Come on then.”
He’s mean. Meaner than you were to him. You’re panting, quivering, and aching, your pussy making obscene noises as he assaults all of your senses. You know you’re coming before you feel it. Like a delayed reaction. Gasping and bucking, he’s saying something again that you can’t register because your hearing leaves you, your sight leaves you, every sensation and thought is gone as you cry out, coming and coming again. Somehow in the midst of it, his fingers and mouth leave as you come back down to your body, and he’s holding you up, thank God. You doubt the wall behind you would’ve helped at all. Your fingers are clenched on the material of his mask, and as you blink down at him, chest heaving, you see his wet mouth smirk.
A flash of fear goes through you. This was the Ghost you know. The ruthless, cold, domineering, Simon Ghost Riley. Not the man that’d been on his knees begging. Not the man who’d let you command and tease him. He sets down the leg that’d been over his shoulder. You’re not sure if you’re still completely all together. He stands to his full height, and you shiver, trying to sink yourself back into the wall behind you as much as you can. His hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it gently as he tilts your head back.
“Open.”
You obey, lips parting, mouth opening. Nothing could prepare you for what he does next. He leans into you, pressing up hard against you, lips barely hovering your own. He spits. Fluid enters your mouth, and you moan, swallowing it up. It’s your own arousal, sweet and warm and oh. Your wet lashes flutter shut as Ghost licks the seam of your closed mouth, lapping at you before he nips and bites and kisses you. The kiss he’s giving you isn’t gentle. It’s consuming and you cry into it as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, sliding up to his neck to haul him closer to you. He answers your cry with a groan of his own, his hands cupping your ass to lift you up. Your legs come around him, locking your ankles behind his back to keep him close. Your sensitive pussy is pressed and rubbing against pants, the feeling abrasive and raw but you can’t stop from grinding against him.
 “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” Simon mutters against your lips, licking and biting still. You’re breathless and whimpering against him, his words going straight to your core as you move against him. He’s helping you, moving with your hips, matching you move for move. You’re distracted, unable to give him an answer as you kiss him back, your trembling fingers sliding a bit under his mask to grasp the back of his neck. He hisses out in pain when your nails dig in. “I’ll give you anything baby, please. Just say the words.”
“I – I want…” you gasp, your clit pressing against the seam of his pants. You can feel his length hard and heavy against you.
“Fuck, please. Please tell me.” He’s begging again, rutting his hips up against you, hands keeping you still as he continues.
“I want you.” Is all you can muster; all you can think about saying. You swear your brain isn’t working correctly. Even before this started. You must’ve hit your head during the mission.
"Want me? Want me to what?” He stops moving.
You groan out in frustration, head tipping back a bit before you look up at him. “Please, Simon. You’re teasing me now.” You’re not sure you like how quickly the tables have turned.
Ghost laughs a bit, breathless himself. You think he’s going to drag it out further until he sees the pout furrowing your brow. “Alright. I am. I’ll give it to you.” He still keeps you wrapped up against him, one hand holding you, the other going in between the two of you. His knuckles brush against your bare sex and you moan lowly, watching him unbuckle his pants, pulling his hard cock out. Precum is dripping down the length of it and your throat dries at the sight of him.
Concern must be showing on your face with how big he is. Another chuckle from him, “You can take it pretty baby.” Your concern dies out as he slides the length against your wet pussy and you bite down on lip, trying to contain your noises. You want him in you, size be damned. He runs the tip up and down once more before pressing against your entrance, pushing in slowly. This time, you can’t contain the low moan you have. He gives it to you slowly, pumping his hips up into you, letting you adjust to his size. It’s stretching you open, and you feel like he’s splitting you in half. It’s heavy and deep and throbbing –
“Oh.” You let out, almost surprised it feels so good. Addicting. You feel drunk.
A sadistic laugh comes from the man in you, his cock slowly pumping into you. He’s being nice, giving it to you this softly. His hands are pulling you back onto his cock, pinning you against the wall and his hard body. Your legs tighten around him as your nails dig into his shoulders.
“That’s it. It’s all yours, isn’t it?” Ghost dips down to nip your lips as you whimper. “Been wanting this pussy wrapped around me for so long, baby. Fuck.” He moans lowly as you keen at his words, clenching around his girth. “Teasing me when you have no idea what I’d do to you. For you.”
He’s going slow, dragging this out as long as possible. He’s pressing in deep, rolling his hips before pulling slowly back, letting you feel every inch of him before starting all over again. It’s driving you insane. It feels like it’s going on forever, his slow thrusting. He rocks into your soaking cunt, easing his throbbing cock in you smoothly and repeatedly. Ecstasy has taken hold of every fiber of your being. You hardly feel conscious, as his words lull you into lust, his cock pacifying you into drunken state. He won’t shut up again as you cry against his lips.
“Pussy feels so good. So good. Fuck. You can have this dick whenever you want baby, just say the word and it’s yours.” He moans lowly, the sloppy sounds of your pussy and his hips thumping into you with languid strokes are overpowering your thoughts. His words make your pussy clamp down on him and he moans again, not afraid to let you hear how good you’re making him feel.
“Si—” you gasp, mouth falling open against his, trying to pull him up closer to you.
“Tell me. Tell me, sweetheart. Fuck.” He rasps against you, his hips stuttering slightly at the sound of your broken moans.
“F-fuck me. Please fuck me. Simon, please.” You beg, not afraid to be pulled down to your knees like he had been. To be debased to nothing just as you had done to him.
He’s not just pliant, he’s willing. Eager again to please you. You know he could’ve done what you had to him, teased you, made you beg more, made you want and want and need. But he gives it to you, just like he promised he would. Your pussy flares as his thrusts get heavier, deeper, faster, rougher. It’s destroying you as much as it’s freeing you and your eyes roll back a bit. God, you’re going to cum again.
A knock sounds. Not unlike the one Ghost pounded on the door earlier. You gasp, trying to stop running to the hurdle you’re launching towards. Your body doesn’t get the memo, or doesn’t care, and it certainly seems Ghost couldn’t care less that someone is right outside the door. The man makes a frustrated noise, at you or the knock, you’re not sure. He clamps his hand down over your mouth as you try to contain the noises you’re currently making. You want to tell him to stop, someone’s right there, but he keeps fucking you. God, he’s so mean and cruel and –
“Lt?”
Your heart shudders in fear. Soap. No, God, no one can see this. Ghost fucking you against the wall, completely clothed, unrushed. Despite the fear of being caught, you feel a whine catch in your throat as you thrash again Simon’s relentless fucking. He hushes you quietly, slamming roughly into you now. You stop a squeal, but just barely, a loud yet pathetic squeak leaving you as euphoria bursts through you, pussy convulsing around his cock.
“Just a sec, Johnny.” Ghost throws over his shoulder, a smile playing on his handsome face. He hardly sounds phased even when just moments ago he was the one loudly moaning into your mouth. He hardly sounds winded even with the rough thrusts he’s delivering into you, fucking you through your orgasm. You claw weakly at his chest, angry at him, still coming down from the heaven he just gave to you.
You think Soap leaves, you’re not sure, but Ghost moves his hand from your mouth, back to your ass to bring down onto his cock. He’s using you now, making you meet him thrust for thrust, drilling your G-spot with such precision that your vision fades for a second.
“No, look at me. That’s it. Good girl. You’re so pretty baby. Such a good girl. You gonna let me fill you up now? Haven’t I been good enough for you? Huh?” He’s mocking a bit, but serious. His own form of a joke that you have no power or brain to call him out on. All you’re feeling, all you’re thinking about is his cock ravaging you from the inside, still, overstimulated. Your body hardly cares. It’s right there, right at the edge, ready to jump and to give him your all. You’re too dumb, blinded with pleasure, staring up at him as he growls down at you, throbbing cock ready to give it to you when you say the words. Maybe he really is under your command after all.
A whine comes from you, frantically nodding to him, hands scrambling on him to try to find solid ground while you’re in a different time and space with the fucking he’s giving you.
“No, you have to tell me baby. Fuck, tell me I’m good baby. Tell me I was good, and I can fill you up.” Simon’s begging, whining lowly in the back of his throat, his hips getting sloppier and shorter, pounding into you.
“You’re good. You’re good. Simon, you’re good. It’s so good. Please, pleasepleaseplease come in me.” You’re begging, sobbing, actually, tears streaming down your face as you try to catch up with your body. It hurts, it hurts so fucking good, you make a long and agonized noise against his mouth, he’s kissing you again, sucking your tongue, running his against your teeth, pulling sucking overstimulating –
Simon makes his own devastated noise, a low and shattering groan of pleasure and you feel it just as you’re coming, milking him into you. His cock is surging into you, pumping hot cum with each deep thrust. He’s grinding into you, fucking you both through your orgasms, making you see stars as you cry into his mouth, fingers tearing into his back through his shirt. His hips finally still after what seems to be eternity, your pussy still clenched around him. He keeps himself deep in you as you both try to gather your bearings as well as your breath. You’re staring at each other, panting, chests heaving. He brings a shaky hand up to your cheek, cupping it as he runs his thumb over your tears. The tenderness makes your heart clench. All he’s done tonight surprised you. He leans down to place a kiss against your lips as tenderly as the thumb that stroked you. You kiss him back gently, a little worried where this was going to leave the two of you.
He pulls back, eyes bouncing in between your own. He seems to sense your worry and he sighs, pulling out slowly. You almost want to cry at the loss of him. Ghost sets you down steadily, keeping his hands on you as you wobble, legs weak. You hold onto him and look back up, ready to question what the hell this meant. He shakes his head a bit and nods towards the showers.
“I think I can handle taking a shower with you. But it’s gotta be quick baby.”
Shocked, you stare at him incredulously before you burst out into a terrible laughing fit. You’d almost forgotten how you got here in the first place. You watch his mouth quirk up into his own smile before he starts to laugh a little too. You grab his hand, tugging him with you towards the showers.
“C’mon then big boy. Show me how you handle it.”
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aaagustd · 9 months
Text
and my man, thank you to my man | jjk
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pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader
genre/rating: smut, mature/explicit
warnings: he’s not her sugar daddy but… he pays her bills, fingering, p*ssy eatting, slight Dom/sub undertones, begging, denied orgasms, jungkook is a dealer so there's some stuff about that, hating a** roommate, most of this is a flashback
wc: 757
release date: july 29th, 2023; 10:38 pm est
note: not edited bc i’m kinda trashy tonight lol. this is based on the latto meme/tik tok from her speech. “and my man, thank you to my man” lol. yeah, that one. anyway, another cute relationship drabble from me before i slip into my real writing style. honestly, these are just practice for me lol. div cr.
series m.list | main m.list | ao3 version
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“Wow. A new MacBook?”
With an eye roll, you brush off your roommate’s obnoxious teasing. Every time Jungkook buys you something she can’t wait to bring up that you’re fucking your weed man.
“Yup,” is all you reply.
But today she’s just got it out for you.
“Hm, how long were you on your knees for that one?” she smirks.
Instead of getting mad, you take a break from your work and sit back on the couch, gracing her with a mischievous smile. She has no idea how far off she actually is.
-
“You taste better when you’re desperate.”
Jungkook moans his words into your pussy, edging you closer to a long-awaited orgasm.
Your hands fist strands of his wavy hair, hanging on for your dear life as he continues to mercilessly sucks your pulsing clit.
“Fuck. Please let me cum. I can’t—”
Jungkook chuckles as he lifts his head. 
“You can cum, but you know what you have to give me first.”
Your withers and contorts within his hold, his strong arms pinning you down so you can’t run from him.
“Come on, baby. You can do it,” he coaxes.
There’s nothing sweet or innocent in his tone. It’s all driven by the eagerness to break you. Your stubbornness has always been his pet peeve, and he knows that you’re willing to lay here and suffer than give him what he wants.
“This isn’t fair!”
Your cries mean nothing to him as he teases you until you reach your peak, only to let the momentum fade away. Sweat begins to form on your skin, and your body begins to tremble with need. You’re close to giving in, but you still hold on with everything you have.
“Shit, Jungkook! Don’t you get tired?”
“Fucking right,” he scoffs. “Tired of your bullshit.”
You can feel his fingers tracing your slit, indicating your impending defeat. Once they slip into your pussy, he’ll control you like a puppet.
“Fuck,” you sob.
He shushes you, then dips his digits inside of you.
“I know, baby. Just let go. It’ll be alright,” he whispers.
Those words paired with the pads of his fingertips touching your spot leave you mumbling a breathless mess.
No longer caring about your pride — tears rolling down your cheeks — you utter the words he’s been expecting since earlier.
“I’m sorry!” you confess. “I should have told you.”
You can smell the satisfaction emitting from his body when he hears you speak. Only then does he take you to the finish line. Your body is taken over by a wave of hot pleasure, freezing your body where it lies on the messy sheets.
Jungkook praises your submission, and licks your sensitive cunt until there’s not a drop of arousal left over. Kissing his way up your exhausted body, he smiles as he reaches your lips.
“Was that so hard?” he teases.
“Shut up.”
When he lies beside you, you roll over and allow him to wrap his arms around you. He rests his chin on top of your head while he talks to you.
“Why are you scared to ask me for stuff?”
You shrug. “It’s not as easy as you put it.”
“I’m not the kind of guy that fucks you and leaves you to fend for yourself. The sooner you realize that the better, baby.”
“I know. It’s just taking me a while to get used to that,” you express.
“It’s all good. I just gotta do a better job at making you see how serious I am about you.”
-
But he didn’t need to. You understood once he said it. 
You can tell by his approach that it’s not about throwing money around. He does small things like checking your car for anything weird, asking about your day and actually allowing you to vent, and just being there mentally and emotionally; along with physically. 
Nobody is there for you like he is. He doesn’t just come in and fix the problem, he helps you figure it out and if you need help he offers.
He’s been to hell and back with you dealing with your old laptop, and he finally gave up on it yesterday. So no, you didn’t spend a second on your knees for it. But you will be on your knees tonight. 
Your poor miserable roommate will just have to rub her sour pussy to the sound of Jungkook getting his dick swallowed. 
“I’m glad you reminded me about that,” you beam. “He’s coming over tonight. I need to thank him for my gift.”
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
Hii I love your work!
Could you do a (romantic but.. crush stage) headcanon of Alastor helping the reader and the reader gives him a kiss as a thank you and Alastor is like "what the hell was that?" Reader genuinely feeling bad for kissing him and Alastor says "you should be sorry" but then Alastor starts to constantly help the reader (even more than before) and everyone in the hotel knows what he's doing but reader is dense. Then eventually alastor just bursts into her bedroom shouting "FOR FUCK SAKE WHY WONT YOU KISS ME" (maybe not that but same energy)
Please and thank you :>
I'm just gonna...combine these two...
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor being jealous, DOORS, Saucy?
Description: ☝️⬆️
You gave affection freely to those around you, everyone got a hug or a small peck on the cheek
So when you're struggling with something and Alastor helps you out? It's only natural for you to give him a quick kiss on the cheek
It's his reaction to it that makes you think you made a mistake in doing so, his body going stiff and gaze dark
You step back as you start to notice a green haze around him and the glass on his monocle cracking
"Don't you ever do that again, my dear."
"I'm-I'm sorry, Alastor-"
"You should be."
And just like that, he's back to normal, carrying on like nothing had happened and humming a jolly tune
But you still feel so guilty for making him so uncomfortable, that was the last thing you wanted
So you work hard to do better, to respect his boundaries and keep a respectful distance
It's not until later when Alastor has time to think about it that he actually realizes that he kinda enjoyed it
And that he's envious of the others who now freely get to soak up your attention and affection for doing little tasks
Like Husk getting scritches and scratches under his chin because he carried a box for you
Angel getting a warm hug with lots of nuzzling and cooing, all because he used his multiple arms to help you cook
Vaggie sheepishly accepting a thank you kiss because she caught you when you almost took a dive down the stairs
Charlie and Niffty are the worst offenders, always helping you and just eating up your praise and hugs
And now whenever Alastor helps you... you just give him a meek thank you and dash off
He's left there waiting for his hug and kiss that won't ever happen
He's not jealous, he told you not to thank him with physical affection
He just didn't realize that he was shooting himself in the foot when he snapped at you
So he starts trying to tempt you into it, taking every opportunity to help you out with every little thing
Alastor will physically shove the others out of the way in order to be the person who helps you out
And he never gets the proper thank you that he's looking for
It's getting to the point where you're driving him insane with those kissy lips and warm embraces
Why won't you just fucking give him some attention!? Oh yeah. Because he ruined it for himself
You do tell him that you're grateful for him and his help, sweetly smiling at him but keeping yourself at a distance
But it's not enough, he wants what everyone else is getting and then some
He hates being excluded or not being special and it's even worse when it comes to you
Alastor's thin patience suddenly snaps when one day while he's out running errands with you
The two of you bump into Zestial and the great overlord opens a door for you, earning a soft kiss on his cheek
It would almost be cute watching you struggle to do that, considering Zestial's height
But instead...Alastor is fucking irritated 😤
Zestial takes it well and you continue to run errands with Alastor for the rest of the day even though he's visibly sulky
His ears are bent back and his eyes are furious
You wonder what you did wrong
He's a bit distant from you for a couple days after that and you miss having him around
Even if you couldn't be with him, you still liked hanging around him and spending time with him
Just when you're starting to feel sorry for yourself and thinking you did something to offend him, wandering the hotel
He shows up by your side and grabs you, miraculously stopping you from almost falling into a fucking hole in the floor that wasn't there yesterday
Charlie is to blame somehow
You're just so happy to see him hanging out with you again that you hug him out instinct
Only to realize you fucked up and try to pull away-
But Alastor's firm grip on you stops you from moving, and he's looking at you in a way that makes your face heat up
"U-uh...um...thank you...Alastor..."
He tuts at you while shaking his head, pulling you flush against him as he leans in closer
"Words won't suffice anymore, my dear~ I'll only accept one thing as payment for my heroic services~"
You definitely don't melt when he suddenly kisses you and if your arms find their way around his neck then...
Who are you to deny him his payment? Kiss that bastard until he's crawling away and begging for mercy
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Me hoping I didn't just shoot myself in the foot by bringing up the door thing again..
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cl6teen · 4 months
Text
old habits (die hard) ❀ cl16
in which charles charles has a knack for fucking things up, and you have a talent for slowly letting him back in
find part one here.
contains: social media au, ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader, angsty charles and yn living her best life, toxic relationships maybe, mentions of new partners, charles is a confusing man, charles is a jealous asshole
note: i don’t think this is the final part lmao it’s kinda left of a cliff (if u saw me repost no u didn’t)
your phone 📞
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charlie
hey
i miss you
a lot
read, 11:23 pm.
charlie
please don’t be like that y/n
i’m serious
you
charles you literally have a girlfriend
charlie
she’s not my girlfriend
you
do you think i’m stupid? like actually
charlie
no
but she really isn’t, we’re just talking
and hanging out i guess
you
oh my god
charlie
love, you know i miss you
you
yes, because finding another girl right after saying you only want to focus on racing sends me such a great message
you’re confusing as hell
charlie
i know, i really messed up.
i shouldn’t have broken up with you in the first place
but the season was getting so intense and i really want this championship, i thought it would be better for us to put it on pause to save us both the trouble
you
so what’s so different about her that makes her an exception?
charles
alex is easy for me
you
so i’m difficult?
charles
that’s not what i mean
you
no it is what you mean
i’m difficult for showing up to your races and being there when you need me
or when i’m there for you when you dnf? or when ferrari fucks up your strategy?
i was willing to stay friends with you after i did all that and you still broke up with me because i had hopes we would make it work and get back together
charlie
i do want to get back together
you
no you don’t
you moved on so quickly like i was nothing
charlie
you also got with someone too
you
because i didn’t want to look like an idiot seeing all the news after telling my friends i had hope
charlie
yeah but posting him in your bed??
you
so you’re just saying all of this because of that guy i posted?
wtf is your deal charles
fuck you
❀ instagram ❀
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, alexalbon, and 70,331others
yourinstagram larger than life (in madrid)
view all comments
lilymhe oh my god
lilymhe you scandalous girl
yourinstagram oops?
landonorris he better watch his hands
yourinstagram he said “fuck off”
landonorris i’ll punch him in his face
carlossainz55 mariposa 🦋
yourinstagram 🥺
user are these two dating???
4zaferrari no they’re just friends, this is someone else
kikagomes sexy sexy pair 💋
yourinstagram you’re sexier bebe
pierregasly get away from my girlfriend
yourinstagram get off my page maybe?
alexalbon show me the man
yourinstagram no you’ll just steal him
user loved watching your vlog the other day
liked by yourinstagram
user seeing yn happy is so great but i can’t be the only one missing her and charles right??
user where are you going next omg!!
yourinstagram no idea!!
lando.jpg updated their story 1 hour ago
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seen by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1 million others
yourinstagram replied to this story: i did not give permission for you to post this young man!
❀ twitter ❀
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your phone 📞
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charlie
you put him in your vlog? and you’re still posting him?
are you dating
y/n
are we seriously doing this right now
why are you stalking me
charlie
i’m not stalking you, i just care
fuck just answer the question please
y/n
i’m barely posting him, his face wasn’t in it
and no, we’re just seeing each other right now. yk summer flings i guess
charlie
you know it hurts me to see this y/n, please love
y/n
i don’t care, we’re not together anymore
you texting me is hurting everyone, your “friend” included
charlie
she knows we’re not dating
please just come back to monaco y/n
we can talk face to face
can i call you right now?
you
i’m with carlos and lando
charlie
are you also with that guy
you
yeah
charlie
will you finally tell me who he is?
you
does it really matter?
let’s just talk when i’m back in monaco please
and let me enjoy my vacation in peace
charlie
when are you back?
you
i’ll let you know
charlie
okay
i love you
you
yeah
love you too
❀ instagram ❀
yourinstagram updated their story 10 mins ago
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❀ twitter ❀
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tags: @1655clean @i-wish-this-was-me @sunny44 @leclercdream
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paegei · 3 months
Text
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MOANER, GROANER, OR WHIMPERER ?
what sounds do the seventeen members make in bed ?
NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !
a/n: GUYS i am so sorry i haven't written in so long ╯︿╰ i lose motivation for things VERY easily. anywho,,, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to send them in ! ( just be prepared for me to take my time to respond ϵ( ‘Θ’ )϶ )
MOANER:
jeonghan:
when i tell you this man has the PRETTIEST moans i mean it. borderline angelic. every noise that comes out of his mouth has you on the verge of orgasm LITERALLY. he's upstaging you i'm sorry !
joshua:
the things i would do to hear him moaning.... 28:50 of the youngji interview is EMBEDDED in my brain. def more on the quiet side, his moans are pretty low in volume, but he is for SURE right next to your ear cuz he knows how much his moans affect you.
jun:
pathetic moans. PATHETIC. loud, whiny, GUTTURAL moans. he also has no shame. and i mean that. does not care how loud he's being. he has to let you know how good you make him feel, who cares about who hears ? also def makes those ah- ah- ah- sounds before he cums
minghao:
hao's moans are like josh's, low in volume but close enough for you to hear. gives me the vibes of someone who doesn't make much noise in bed, he prefers to focus on your blabbering, but when his sounds grace your ears, it is HEAVENLY. ( his moans are borderline whimpers too just saying )
seungkwan:
DEEP. DEEP. SO DEEP. yk that one good to me performance where he said "make some noise" in his deep ass voice ? yeah, that's his tone in bed. moans coming straight from the chest LAWDDDDDD. was pretty shy at first when it came to making noise, but after seeing how badly it affected you ( because who wouldn't go insane hearing them ), he just goes AT IT. unless he's in sub mode and is borderline sobbing
GROANER:
seungcheol:
bro. words could not describe how hot this man sounds ( i would know we're actually married ). GUTTERAL groaning. genuinely sounds like he is working out >︿< lets out a groan every time he pulls out, followed by a whimper when he shoves his cock back in :/
wonwoo:
practically inaudible with how deep his groans are. all you would be able to hear is this deep grumble. rarely likes making sounds in bed as he prefers to be all ears for your moans, but hey, sometimes good sex makes a man whimper okay there's nothing wrong with that :3
vernon:
kinda like jun, in the aspect that his groans have a pathetic tilt to them. every sound he makes, no matter how hard he tries to keep them in, just ends up sounding absolutely RUINED. im talking you'd think he was crying from how desperate he sounds ( maybe he is who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )
chan:
he's right on the barrier between groans and gasps. OMLLLL HIS LITTLE GASP WHEN HE FIRST SLIPS IN !!!!!!!!!!! no shame either he wants to let the whole world know he's getting the best pussy of his LIFE. anime girl ~gah~ kinda noises IM SORRY
WHIMPERER:
jihoon:
dooooont care what you think. he WHIMPERS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! his whimpers are very low in volume however, he knows that if the guys ever found out the little noises he makes for you he would be a goner. tries his hardest to hold the whines back, much to your dismay, but at least then you get the gorgeous sight of him biting his lip till it bleeds (/▽\)
seokmin:
man does not care how embarrassing his sounds are he NEEDS you to know how good you feel. he is the EPITONE of whimpers. men be afraid to moan in their girls ear, but seokmin is sobbing out "f-fuck oh m- oh my god- 's good, 's good-" and other barely audible curses :3
mingyu:
his whimpers are WET sorrynotsorry. im saying he's borderline drooling. dumb puppy can't help it if your cunt feels so good :( sobs, cries, just the most desperate and shaky words tumbling from his mouth ( if he can still form words is a different story ).
ALL OF THE ABOVE:
soonyoung:
does not give a FUCK what noise he is making, he's just going for it. somehow sounds like whimpers, cries and growls all in one ?? also yes 80% of the time he is growling but are we suprised. just says any word that comes to his mind too. bro does nawt understand why people hold in their moans... if it feels good, it feels good you know ?
not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ ̄ 3 ̄)づ
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bonchobrick · 1 year
Text
So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.
Or
Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.
——-
The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.
So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air
Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”
The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.
The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’
There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.
There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil
And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.
Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–
–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework
The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”
Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”
“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”
Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.
As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks
“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”
Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”
“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”
“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly
“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug
There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.
Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”
Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”
Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze
The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”
And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.
Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”
Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose
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2hightocare · 4 months
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PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷
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“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—
Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..
Genre: established relationship!
Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)
a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍
for @ohsweetmimosa !!
Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.
Until you met him.
There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.
You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.
“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.
“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.
“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.
He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.
You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.
You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.
Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.
Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.
“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.
“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.
“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.
“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.
Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.
Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.
He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.
Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.
When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.
It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.
“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.
“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.
“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.
“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.
“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.
“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.
“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.
“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.
He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.
Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.
“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.
“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.
“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.
“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.
The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.
Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.
“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.
His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.
“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”
Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.
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triptuckers · 4 months
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sparring sessions - percy jackson
Request: yes! "ok so ik it’s kinda (by kind of i mean VERY) cliche, but i was wondering if u could do like an angst -> fluff where like percy and reader get into a fight n stuff and he like admits that he loves them??" Pairing:  percy jackson x reader Summary:  when an argument between you and percy gets heated, some things are revealed Warnings:  mentions of injuries and blood, arguing, angst Word count:  858 A/N: raaaaaahhh I LOVE me some cliche's LETS GO !! thanks for you request, enjoy!
it started out as an innocent sparring session between percy and jake, a hephaestus kid. a couple kids from hermes, hephaestus, and athena decided to get together to train. you and percy also joined.
you'd been at camp longer than percy, so you had trained him in the beginning. the two of you often train together even though percy is now better than you.
but somehow he still looks at you while sparring with someone else. if it's to read your facial expressions or just because you're in his line of sight, you're not sure.
but today it nearly went wrong.
while percy and jake were sparring, percy was looking at you and too late to block jake's sword. he managed to make a deep cut in percy's arm.
the session was immediately ended and percy put his sword away. while the other kids continued their training session, you walked away. you couldn't stay there and be around percy right now. clearly he hadn't listened to you.
but percy, having seen your face, follows you.
as soon as you get to percy's cabin - which provides you with more privacy than your own - you turn around to look at him with an irritated look on your face.
'I told you to ignore me if you're sparring!' you say.
percy frowns. but nothing bad happened? why are you mad at him? besides, he can't look away from you when he's sparring. he thought you knew this.
'and how am I supposed to do that?' says percy, watching as you take off your armor and neatly put it away. 'you're the one that taught me. of course I need to see if you think I'm doing a good job.'
you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. you're trying so hard to stay calm right now.
'of course I think you're doing a good job, percy.' you say. 'I know you're good at what you do. but you'd do a great job if you would listen to my advice and avoid getting stabbed.'
percy makes a soft offended noise. 'first of all, I didn't get stabbed. I got nicked!'
you groan out loud 'percy! come on, don't be stubborn!'
'I'm the one being stubborn? you should see yourself when you're sparring. you want it to be perfect but fighting never is! it's messy, no matter how good you train someone.'
'I'm going for a walk.' you say, before you get angrier and say things you don't mean.
you grab your armor and walk towards the door, but he steps in front of you, blocking the doorway.
'oh no, you're not. we're not done yet.' says percy, crossing his arms over his chest, displaying the cut on his arm that he didn't have time to heal yet.
'got more to say?' you say.
'yes. you never did actually tell me what I did wrong.' says percy. 'you're mad, I can tell. but you didn't tell me what it was that I did that's made you mad.'
'yes I did. I told you that you need to ignore me when you're sparring. focus all of you attention on the opponent, not me.'
'I can't do that.'
'can't focus on the opponent? I noticed.'
'that's not what I meant!'
'then what do you mean!'
'I meant I can't ignore you when I'm sparring!' says percy loudly. 'I can never ignore you, don't you understand that? whenever you're near you always have my attention, I can never look away. even when you're not near me I'm thinking about you. gods, you're always on my mind because I love you, okay? so I'm sorry if I can't look away from you when I'm sparring!'
you hadn't realised how close you were to each other. now percy's face is close to yours, both of you breathing heavily.
you knew percy liked you, obviously. you wouldn't be staying in his cabin almost every night if he didn't. but this? even though you knew percy had liked you for a long time, you hadn't been together for that long.
'you love me?' you say in a soft voice, feeling your anger and irritation ebb away.
percy closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he just now realises what he said. then he sighs and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there's nothing but sweetness in them.
'yeah. I do.' says percy. 'I've loved you for a long time, actually.'
you smile and want to say something but percy's eyes widen.
'wait, shit, is that too soon? should I have waited to say it? oh gods if I-'
'percy.' you say, shutting him up by stepping even closer to him.
'it's okay. I love you too.' you say.
percy grins and his eyes twinkle. without warning, he puts his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips against yours. he can feel the smile on your lips.
when he pulls back, you're both smiling.
'you still want to go on that walk?' says percy.
'definitely not.' you say.
percy laughs and kisses you again, your argument already forgotten.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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phantom-0-writer · 7 months
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prompt 02: tim’s birthday present
Tim sat in his empty house at the empty dining table. The table was actually quite large; it had enough seats to sit at least 15 people. But there was just Tim there. 
His parents had promised and sworn up and down that they would come back in time for his birthday. He had everything planned out. He picked out the birthday cake, put on the candles, decorated, ordered his parents' favorite foods, his parents' favorite movie for movie night, popcorn the likes. But that morning, just when Tim was double checking to make sure everything was ready for the most perfect birthday ever, his parents had called to tell him that something really important had come up, and they wouldn’t be able to make it. Tim figured it was better than last year, at least they called this time. 
Tim stared down at the cake, the candles lit. He had heard online that people would make wishes on their birthday cake and blow it out. Tim thought that was a weird thing to do, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 
What should he wish for? It would have to be something special that he doesn’t already have. Tim thought for a long moment, the candles bleeding into the frosting of the cake. 
A brother. 
Tim closed his eyes and put his hands together like he’s seen the other children to do in the cartoons. And Tim wished for a big brother. When he finally wished hard enough (whatever that meant) he opened his eyes and blew out what was left of the candles. 
Tim waited. What exactly was he supposed to do now? In the cartoons, everyone would celebrate and cheer and the birthday boy would open his presents. There wasn’t anyone to cheer for Tim, or any presents for him to open. 
Suddenly the house shook, and the loud sound of a crash sound came from the backyard. Quickly, Tim did the sensible thing and go check out what the noise was. That's what the characters always did in horror movies. 
In Tim’s backyard, there was what looked like a weird space ship that had crashed into his backyard. There wasn’t any fire or anything, but the spaceship looked pretty wrecked. Getting closer, Tim could vaguely make out that someone was inside the spaceship. Looking around, he saw what looked like maybe the handle. Tim couldn’t really tell. 
When Tim put his hand on it and tried to open it, something poked out mechanically and pricked his finger. He flinched back instinctively, caressing his finger tip.
“Recognized: Danny Fenton. System Override.” A robotic lady spoke. Who is Danny Fenton? As if to answer him, the space ship opened its hatch, and inside was an unconscious black haired teenager. “System Malfunctioning. Please Assis-” The robotic voice spoke again, before getting cut off as if the power had died. 
Suddenly, Tim remembered his wish. A big brother. 
This was Danny Fenton, and he was supposed to be Tim’s big brother
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When Danny woke up, he found himself in a very soft plush something. Something that definitely wasn’t the Spector Speeder. Alarmed, he sat up quickly to find that he didn’t recognize where he was at all. He also didn’t recognize the weird kid that was staging at him from two feet away. 
“Hi, I’m Tim. Timothy Drake.” The boy introduced himself almost business like. 
“Uh, hi Tim.” Danny responded awkwardly. “You got any idea where I am?” Danny sat up properly, moving the blanket (?) off of him and turned to face the weird and kinda creepy kid. 
“You’re in Drake Manor. Which is where I live.” He answered again. 
“Ok…ay” Danny nodded thoughtfully. “Any idea how I got here?” Truthfully, Danny hadn’t really been expecting an answer, but he still got one. 
“Because I made a birthday wish to have a big brother.” He answered in the same way he had answered the other question, very matter-of-factly. 
“Ok- Wait. What?” Danny asked, doing a double take at Tim. 
“You’re supposed to be my big brother, right?” Tim was starting to look a little hesitant, and as weirded out as Danny felt he couldn’t help but feel bad about the whole situation. 
“Where are your parents, Tim?” 
“There not home, because they had really important things to do for work.” 
Danny nodded. “Do you know when they’ll be back?” 
Tim shook his head. “They were supposed to come back today, because it’s my birthday. But they said they couldn’t make it.” 
Well, shit. Didn’t that sound awfully like Danny’s birthdays before he had given up on his parents showing up. At least he had Jazz. This kid looked like he was alone. 
Not liking the silence, Tim started fidgeting again. “So, are you gonna be my brother, then?” 
And what was Danny supposed to say, No? Besides, if he was really causing problems being in this random universe, then Clockwork would figure it out. 
Bonus: 
Danny sat at Tim’s dinner table, the kid looking at him radiating in excitement, each with a plate of stupid expensive pasta in front of them. “You said your name was Tim, right?” Danny started thoughtfully. Tim nodded, drinking up everything Danny said. “Well, first course of action as you, big brother. I need to give you a nickname.” 
Tim’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. “Like what?”
Danny tapped his chin exaggeratedly, “Hm… Tim, Tim.” Turing the name around while he absentmindedly twirled his fork between his fingers, Danny wondered what he should come up with. Suddenly, in a misplaced strength, Danny’s fork flew out of his hand. 
Before Danny could even say anything, “I’ll get you a new one!” Tim offered quickly. Getting up from his chair, his foot got tangled behind the leg of the chair and Tim fell quietly on the floor with an oof. 
Danny laughed at him. “You okay, Timbers?” He asked, getting up to check on the boy. 
“Yeah, I like Timbers.” Tim said, a bright smile on his face despite the blossoming bruise on his arm.
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