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#honeypot and babe
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if you receive this, you make somebody happy! go on anon (or not) and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. if you get one back, even better!
thank you jojo, right back at you <3
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ham1lton · 18 days
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wrong number.
pairing: charles leclerc x reader (no faceclaim)
warnings: nothing. maybe just ignore my awful photoshop skills. also is this based on a real interaction of mine? yes. this is just a crackfic, don’t take it seriously at all please.
summary: the one where y/n gets a new phone and tries to text her auntie… only her auntie is not the other one at the end of the phone.
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liked by yourbffsuser, friend1user and 5 others.
yourusername: it finally happened… bertha kicked the bucket and i had to buy an…. i…. i…. iphone 😔😔😔😔😔 funeral being held on monday at 10pm.
yourbffsuser: welcome to the 20th century girl.
bff2user: we were sick of having to debrief over the phone when imessage exists.
-> yourusername: bertha is dead and you celebrate… you laugh…. you will rue the day….
-> yourbffsuser: girl fuck bertha 😭😭😭😭😭 you’ve had that thing since bush was in office.
-> yourusername: i need to update my family with my new number but i will be back…. (bring food to bertha’s funeral).
-> bff2user: ofc we will bae 😘
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liked by yourbffsuser, friend1user and 7 others.
yourusername: thank you all for showing up to bertha’s funeral. it was exactly what she would have wanted. the food was incredible… extra salty because of my tears but that’s alright….
yourbffsuser: girl fuck the food, who is that guy on the right??
-> yourusername: aunt julie.
-> bff2user: no way that’s aunt julie be real… is that the guy you were on facetime to at the funeral?
-> yourusername: unlike you… he appreciated my grief. he understood it… he lost a phone once too…
-> yourbffsuser: NO WAY YOU TALKED ABOUT BERTHA TO HIM…. YOU GONNA BE BITCHLESS FOREVER OH GOD 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I’M NEVER GONNA BE AN AUNTIE 😭
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liked by yourbffsuser, friend1user and 15 others.
yourusername: haters said i could never do it.
bff2user: said you could never do what? get a man?
-> yourusername: no… haters said i could never cook.
-> yourbffuser: girl you can just use my name. no need for codewords 😍😘💕
charles_leclerc: you proved the haters wrong babe.
-> yourusername: thank you honeypot 😘🤤
-> charles_leclerc: now can you change my name in your phone from aunt julie?
yourbffuser: wow… your bitchless ways captured him… teach me your ways professor.
-> yourusername: barbie tingz 0:35 :)
-> yourbffuser: GIRL FUCK YOU 😭😭😭
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dearharriet · 3 months
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Standin’ on a Cloud; Eddie Munson ☁️
summary: your boyfriend eddie is a sweetheart, but you already knew that.
word count: 1.2K
warnings: fem!r, established relationship, fluff fluff and more fluff, nicknames (babe, baby, angel, darling, sweetums)
a/n: based on my favvvv song angel by madonna <3 i just want eddie in my room goofing around and maybe also kissing me silly :(
“My darlingest darling,” Eddie coos suddenly, buttering you up from his perch at your vanity. You glance up at him from where you’re lounging on the bed, reading a magazine. He’s been in your room for all of thirty minutes and he’s already trying to accost you.
“What do you want?” you reply bluntly, making Eddie let out a shocked laugh.
“Want?” he starts, and you know he’s about to be facetious. “Whatever do you mean, sweetums?” he teases, standing to approach your bed. “I only desire your precious time.”
You love the way Eddie moves. He’s like a dog that grew up with cats, slinking clumsily, if there ever was such a movement.
“You’re so full of it,” you whisper with faux sweetness, drawing a finger down the crease of the Rolling Stone you bought on a whim at the supermarket.
“Full of…what? Love? Full of love?” You laugh at Eddie’s absurdity and sudden closeness, his hip leant on the bed and his body folding in half to meet you face-to-face.
“Yes, of course,” you answer, “how did you know that’s what I meant?”
Eddie smiles lazily, his face slightly red from hanging sideways.
“Just one of the many super-boyfriend-powers I possess, babe. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ah, right.” You close your magazine.
With much less accusation, and double the fondness, you ask again: “What do you want?
Eddie squints like he’s not sure he can trust you. He decidedly crawls up onto the bed using only his knees, shirt riding up and arms flailing.
“Um,” he begins mindlessly, trying not to clip you in his fuss to lie down. He settles in beside you, propping his head up on his hand, eyes mischievous.
“I was just wondering,” says Eddie, "if my gorgeous girlfriend would do me a flavor and paint my nails for me?”
“A flavor,” you repeat with a small smile, pretending to read a headline about Wham! while Eddie’s warmth distracts you. Eddie hums confidently in return, like there’s nothing amiss with his word choice. Turning your head to look at him, your mouth curls into a grin. “What color y’want?”
Eyes alight, Eddie rolls off the bed, presumably to raid your polish stores if he hasn’t already. Your stereo is playing a tape that Eddie sweetly curated for you, with rock ballads and indie jams he thought you’d like, and you belatedly recognize the song playing. As Eddie sifts through your colors he absently sings along, shocking you.
“—can see it in your eyes, full of wonder and surprise—” His rich timbre takes the tune on effortlessly, like he’s heard it a hundred times before.
“I thought you were against Madonna,” you mention, watching his back. He looks up at you through the vanity mirror, cutting his singing off before the chorus. Realizing he’s been caught, he sighs heavily.
“Well, yknow I was, but I think I’ve changed my tune.” Distracted, he turns around, leaning on the messy table to properly talk to you. “Cause you left that Virgin tape in my van, right?—and I was just gonna retire the poor thing but…”
“But you liked it?” you anticipate, perhaps a touch too excited to have this one thing over him.
“No,” Eddie says awkwardly, holding his mouth in an o for a moment. “But!—you played this one on the drive to Steve’s that day and I, uh—” He fiddles with his fingers, strangely sheepish.
“You what?”
Eddie spins around, back in business with your nail lacquer. You almost don’t hear him when he shyly continues.
“I guess it sorta reminded me of you,” he admits, shoving his hair behind his ear nervously.
Your stomach churns with want, a honeypot of sweetness as your eyes trace over Eddie’s figure. You’re so used to him in your room now, despite how out of place he is—dark and moody against your bright and girlish decor. Perhaps it’s because your room has obtained some Eddie-adjacent additions as time goes on: rock records and DND game items. It feels good to know that you have the same effect on him, and you’re suddenly glad you left that tape in his car. The image of him singing Angel on his way to see you is almost overwhelming.
When he finally picks a color, the song is wading into the bridge, and Eddie’s face is still pink. Madonna croons through your grainy speakers as he returns to you—I believe that dreams come true, ‘cause you came when I wished for you... Despite his blatant embarrassment, Eddie dances on the way back to the bed, almost like he can’t help it.
“Well, that’s funny,” you say, finally wrestling out of your thoughts.
Eddie entertains you, shaking the bottle of paint he’d settled on—too quickly for you to make out which it is. “Why so?”
Confidently, knowing exactly what it’d do to him, you say, “I always thought this song was about you.”
Eddie is kneeing his way onto the bed once more, his bottom lip caught under his teeth. He doesn’t lie down again, staying on his knees above you, so you flip over to avoid craning your neck.
“Babe, I’m a metalhead,” Eddie reminds you seriously, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of you. He looks completely wrecked from your statement, but he’s doing a commendable job of pretending he disliked it. He says: “You can’t go calling me an angel or you’re gonna ruin my rep.”
Grinning, you push up onto your elbows to eat up even more of the space between you and your boyfriend.
“Well, you’d better stop being such a sweetie and making me mixes with Madonna on them, then.”
Eddie inches closer.
“But how else will I tell you what a doll you are?” he goads, and his breath warms your lips.
“Um…head banging?” you suggest helpfully. Eddie shakes his head gently so his curtain of hair tickles your face, making you giggle. He places an affectionate peck over your smile and then leans back on his haunches.
Sitting up all the way, you look to his ring-heavy hands.
“Okay, what color did we pick?”
Hesitantly, Eddie unfolds his fist to reveal a hollow box of glass on his palm, undeniably pink from the varnish it encapsulates. It doesn’t escape you that the exact same shade sits on your own fingernails. Looking up to catch his eye, you watch his face flush.
“What was that about being a metalhead?” you tease, unable to resist. Eddie makes like he’s going to get up and pick a new color but you jump to stop him. “Oh, Eds, I’m only kidding!”
“Do you think people will laugh?” Eddie asks, and he’s oddly sincere. You pull your head back, somewhat surprised that he’d even care, but then again, most of Eddie’s song and dance about non-conformity is just that: performance. He believes it, of course, but only because he has to—because he’s not like everyone else. It’s almost impossible to be impervious to judgment, and you also think Eddie might be more worried about your guys’ friends than anyone else.
“Maybe,” you tell him, not willing to lie. “But it’s just polish. You can take it off and pretty much anybody would forget the next day. Or you could flip ‘em a pretty pink middle finger, too, ‘cause they should mind their own damn business.”
A sweet smile curls onto Eddie’s face, his brown eyes melting and gooey. He brushes a quick thumb over your jaw as a thank-you of sorts.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you confirm, “yeah, I think it’s metal.”
Eddie surges forward, attacking your lips with his own. The kiss is short-lived, one closed-mouth press, but what it lacks in duration it makes up for in sweetness.
“‘Kay,” he agrees, moving to sit against your headboard. “Make me pretty.”
Crawling onto his lap obediently, you say, “Can’t make you something y’already are, angel.”
Eddie’s face turns as pink as his nails end up later.
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thank u for reading <3
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floral-force · 11 months
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hey babes!!! I loved that one of Simon and the meet cute, it had me melting 🥹♥️ I was wondering if I could perhaps request a Simon Riley x reader where the reader is part of the 141, but before working with them, she was apart of a special ops group that focused on stuff like infiltration/sabotage, and she’s almost like a black widow sort of character? seduces her targets and takes them out when they’re alone? she’s usually a ray of sunshine with the group, but Laswell presents the mission and everyone’s like “????” and the reader’s like “fine, I guess we’ll do this again” and she’s just COMPLETELY different once she infiltrates??? it gives the whole crew whiplash, but I’m particularly interested in how Simon would react!!! I hope this isn’t too much!!! thanks for always blessing us with your amazing work, and I hope you have an amazing day!!! ♥️
thank you for loving the meet-cute!! this request was fun to fill. I took some artistic liberties and this one really ran away from me...I hope you enjoy this!
(requests are open! search the tags #prompt requests or #prompts and send me an ask!)
Honeypot
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader (code name "Honey")
summary: You’re Task Force 141’s newest operator, and everyone knows you as bubbly and sweet, earning you the code name Honey. How will the team react—especially Ghost, your stoic but sultry lieutenant—when a mission requires your espionage expertise?
words: 2.9k
warnings/tags: my blog is 18+ only. innuendo, canon-typical violence (fist fighting, gun mentions), bamf reader, task force 141 being buffoons, protective and jealous simon “ghost” riley, competency and size kinks if you squint, reader has a code name and uses she/her but no other descriptors
read on ao3 | masterlist
“The coup in Luxembourg is out of our usual bounds,” Laswell said, “but a covert agent working under the deposed Grand Duke has requested our aid.”
“They’ve been an ally to us in the past,” Price added, looping his thumbs under his tac vest, “so I expect you lot to execute this mission with as much precision and urgency as you would any other.”
“Country’s smaller than Scotland, innit?” Soap asked. “How the hell are we s’pposed to be discreet?”
“That’s where you come in, Honey,” Laswell crossed her arms and gave you a pointed look. “You remember your mission in Morocco?”
You smirked. “Is the sky blue?”
She gave you a small chuckle. “We need your expertise.”
“Fine.” You gave a dramatic sigh. “I guess we’ll do this again.”
“”M sorry,” Gaz interrupted with a scoff. “Do what, exactly?”
You turned to look at where he sat across the table from you next to an equally confused Soap. Ghost was twisted in his chair to look at where you sat behind him. 
You raised an eyebrow, your eyes flicked between Price and Laswell. “They don’t know what I did in the States?” 
“No,” Price muttered with a hint of embarrassment. He cleared his throat and shrugged like a tired parent as he said, “I suppose it never came up.”
Gaz gave an exasperated sigh, his impatience getting the better of him. “Well, go on then!” He urged. 
“I was a contracted espionage agent for the Department of Defense, and—”
“The Yanks used contracted agents?”
You rolled your eyes at the interruption. “Yes, Soap. Now, as I was saying,” you continued, shooting the Scotsman a playful glare, “I was hired for infiltration ops. Ones that required a certain…je ne sais quoi, a more feminine touch you lads wouldn’t be capable of.” 
When they all stared at your smiling face with blank expressions for a few moments—even Ghost’s eyes were narrowed with confusion—you jerked your head forward and waved your hands. “Guys, I seduced the targets.”
The confused silence persisted, and you looked around, giggling at each of the guys’ reactions, looking at Ghost last. His gaze pierced you the most, his brown eyes never leaving yours. Your teasing giggles faded, and you severed the eye contact with a roll of your eyes. You looked at Laswell again and crossed your arms, bored of the topic. 
“Now that that’s settled, can we please finish this briefing?” you implored. “I have to make sure I have a dress that’s fitting for a date with a dictator.”
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“You sure you’re gonna be alright?”
“For the hundredth time—” you swung a heeled foot on a worn curb with a huff and hiked up the fabric of your dress—“yes, LT, I’ll be fine.” You adjusted the holster on your thigh and smirked at Ghost’s silence. “See something you like?”
There was a pause, and you looked up to see Ghost quickly look away at the street. Guilty.
You knew he felt some sort of way about you; whether it was good or bad was still unclear. One thing was for damn sure: Ghost had his sights set on you. You’d felt his skeletal stare linger on you ever since the briefing a week ago, and he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was at stealing looks when you were at the range or sparring.  Anyone else might feel like his prey—trapped by hungry eyes and cornered by a hulking frame—but you were so used to being the predator that you didn’t let it get to you. It was a little…fun.
Sure, he gave you butterflies, but that was because you’d never dealt with seducing men like him—at least, that’s what you told yourself after thinking about him with your hand between your thighs.
For now, you’d innocently tease and poke and prod the masked man with Soap and Gaz’s support. For now, you’d holster your loaded M9 and leave your leg exposed in yellow lamplight as you made sure your clutch had everything you needed. For now, you’d pretend that you weren’t thinking about him trailing his hand up from your ankle to the holster and grabbing the meat of your thigh.  
“We’ll be able to hear everything through your earpiece. Soap and I will have eyes on you in the palace, but stay near windows,” Ghost said, interrupting your thoughts. “Gaz’ll be on the roof.”
You swung your leg back down, wobbling. Ghost clutched your forearm, and you gripped his, fingernails scratching the fabric of his sleeve and digging into it for stability. His large hand snaked up to hold your bicep right above your bent elbow, your ears heating up when you met his eyes and saw something akin to lust in them.
His grip lingered even after you were steady on your feet again, only letting go when you gave him a flustered smile. You busied yourself with smoothing out the full skirt of your dress and adjusting the discreet monitor in your right ear. 
“All you have to do is get ‘im to the roof. The lads ‘n I will take it from there, as planned.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “If anythin’ goes wrong, jus’ get yourself out alive, Honey.”
“Got it.” You adjusted your necklace, and sheepishly asked, “Is it centered?”
You could smell sweat and sandalwood when Ghost stepped closer, his broad armored chest just inches away from your body. His large, gloved fingers graced over your skin and hands, delicately centering the elegant piece with tactical precision. 
Brown eyes looked you up and down. “Looks good, Honey.” 
Ghost stepped back and his hands fell, one curling around his radio and the other limp on the rifle slung across his body. You burned underneath your dress.
After testing the comms and getting location reports, you gave Ghost a thumbs up and started walking to the palace down the street, rolling your shoulders back and taking a few deep breaths. You could feel his brown eyes burning a hole through you the entire time, so you made sure to sway your hips a bit more than you usually did while seductively strutting somewhere.
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It hadn’t taken her long to reach the third floor and approach the tall paned window with the target, just as she’d been instructed to do in their final briefing. Watching Honey expertly navigate the gala and get the target attached to her side faster than the speed of light stirred something within Ghost. Whether it was admiration for her skill or arousal was unclear. Either way, he’d be lying if he said she didn’t look ravishing in her dress. He tilted his head and greedily peered through the scope one last time before tearing his eyes away and adjusting his position on the grassy hill.
Honey was as lethal as she was sweet, and if her saccharine smile didn’t instantly ensnare her target, her sugary tongue would. Instead of doling out compliments, she accepted them and kicked innuendos back; instead of making cringy puns and flashing finger guns, she bit her lip and tugged the target’s suit jacket. It was entirely different from who she was around the team on base, and Soap had made sure to emphasize that all bloody night. Even Gaz had chimed in a few times, both men trying to get him to comment. Ghost silently refused, skin flushing under his mask.
Now that she was closing in on the target, things had become even more heated. He looked at her through the scope again and listened. Ghost heard her laugh, the sound bubblier than the champagne in the flute she raised to her pretty lips. She took a sip right as Soap said the punchline of a joke, her shoulders rising and falling sporadically with a daintily covered cough. 
“Watch it, you twat, you made her choke,” Ghost snapped.
“Sorry, lass, sorry!” Soap crackled over the comms. There was a rustle. “In my final position. Eyes on Honey and the target, LT.”
“Gaz?”
“In my final position, LT, eyes on the extraction point,” Gaz replied, his voice set and sure.
“Captain Price will leave on your command to meet you and Sergeant MacTavish at the rendezvous point, Lieutenant,” Laswell buzzed in his ear. “Gaz, you go with Honey and the target.”
“Affirmative,” Gaz and Ghost responded.
“Affirmative. And, Laswell, you can call me Soap.”
“Negative, Sergeant.”
“Aye. Copy that, loud and clear.”
“Shut up, Soap.” Ghost grumbled.
They heard Honey giggle in response to another one of the usurper’s idiotic compliments, and Ghost saw her flirtatiously tap his arm with her knuckles. 
“Y’know, if she heard one of us say tha’ in the pub, we’d never hear th’end of it.”
Gaz hummed in agreement with Soap, and he couldn’t help but shake his head and smirk. Honey laughed again and clearly echoed another awful line the target gave her. Ghost could tell the grin splitting her pretty lips wasn’t genuine—her nose didn’t crinkle like it did when he deadpanned the punchline to a stupid joke or when Soap had called Price “Pa” a few weeks ago.
There was snickering over the comms. Ghost boldly asked, “Honey, take a drink if you meant for us t’hear that shite attempt at flirting.”
Soap cackled when the rim of the champagne flute touched her lips and her throat bobbed with a long sip.
“Well?” Gaz asked expectantly.
“Was a yes, Gaz,” Soap responded.
Ghost saw her eyes flutter closed as she pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, and he grumbled; hopefully nobody had heard him. He was itching to move, his finger hovering over the trigger and his jaw clenching each time the target touched her.
“Right, Honey,” Ghost said, focusing the team again and settling himself down. “Once you’re on the roof, I’ll call Price—Gaz, move on my word or Honey’s, or when Price arrives. Soap, get to the rendezvous when I call Price. I’ll watch Honey and the target. Understood?”
Gaz and Soap gave him their affirmatives. Honey nodded, looking out the window and winking.
She looked back at the target and seductively bit her lip. “Do you think we could go somewhere a bit more…private?” Her query was laced with something sticky.
The target gave her his piss-poor attempt at a sultry smile, resting a hand against her neck and disturbing the necklace Ghost had adjusted earlier. 
He’d be lying if it didn’t make him want to shoot the git dead where he stood.
There was a quiet yes, and Honey said, “I’ve always wanted to be kissed under the stars.” She forced a coquettish giggle. “Well, kiss, and…more, if you catch my drift.”
The target leaned in and pressed a kiss on her right cheek, the act on full display to Ghost.
“That can be arranged, my sweet,” the target murmured, his voice tainting their comms and making Ghost roll his eyes. 
When the target abruptly gripped her waist and pushed her against the window, Ghost heard the faint sound of glass breaking and heard Honey force a playful comment about dropping her flute. Now, Honey’s back was to him, one of her hands flat against the window, her fingers splayed out. His clear shot was ruined. Ghost swore and Soap did as well.
“Target moved too far to my right. Can’t get a clear shot. LT?”
“Negative,” Ghost answered. “Honey, make a fist if you need back-up.”
Normally, he would’ve already had someone storming in to help if he wasn’t already, but Price had made it clear that this mission required tact. Ghost was on edge, but he had to trust Honey, even if the sight unfolding in the scope of his rifle made his skin crawl.
Honey clenched her fist.
“Affirmative. Gaz, Soap, hold your positions. Comms are quiet unless absolutely necessary.”
“Affirmative, LT,” the men immediately replied.
“Extraction is ready on your word. Get out of there—alive,” Laswell stressed over comms. 
“Affirmative,” Ghost sighed, his trigger finger ready and aching to move.
“Not here,” Honey mumbled. Her fist remained clenched, the other hand still clutching her tiny bag. 
She squealed in surprise when one of his hands dropped to grab her ass and squeeze. Ghost sharply inhaled, and he heard Soap clear his throat, holding back from asking for a visual on Honey.
“Not here, Johann,” Honey snapped, the sweetness quickly melting off her voice. “I want you, but I want you to touch me on the roof.”
The target’s other hand grabbed the other hidden cheek, fabric bunching up in his grip. “Want you here, you lovely little thing. Roof can come later.”
Honey gave him the tinkling laugh she shared with the team after showing them a video of a puppy or some other baby animal. Sometimes, Ghost smiled under his balaclava when it was thrown his way—but he’d never tell a soul.
This time, the sunny bells were a warning, and if the target didn’t do as she said, Ghost had a feeling he’d regret more than the coup. 
“If you say so.” Her voice was uncharacteristically dark, its hidden sharp edges revealed.
“Gaz, Soap, be ready for my word,” Ghost said as Honey pushed forward, her heel pressing her dress’s hem against the window.
Just as they both responded, a howl pierced the comms, making Ghost wince. The target was doubled over, and Honey was kicking off her heels, sending them flying towards the windows across the hall. She took a lunging step forward over the broken glass and adjusted her body before throwing a punch to the target’s left cheek. He staggered up and took an angry, sloppy swing at her, but she dodged it and kicked her heel into his knee to destabilize him so she could gut-punch him. The target dropped to the floor. Ghost’s mouth went dry, and his cock twitched as she grabbed a fistful of the target’s hair.
“We’re going to the goddamn roof,” Honey gritted out. 
When the target gave her a sly smile, she took a step back and let go before punching him again. The corner of Ghost’s mouth twitched with a smile when he saw the target staring at her with fear. She’d literally punched the smile off his ugly mug.
“On your fucking feet,” she growled, and he obliged. 
Though he stood, he fought her the whole way to the stair entrance, and each time, his resistance was met with another blow to the gut. Ghost hummed in approval. This honeybee had a wicked stinger and wasn’t afraid to use it.
When she disappeared from Ghost’s sight—still swearing and commanding the target up the stairs—he made the call to Price, then barked over comms, “Soap, rendezvous. Gaz, be ready to assist if Honey calls for it—and, Honey, Gaz is ready to help restrain the target.”
“Negative, LT,” he heard her pant. 
He saw her push the target through the door and onto the roof’s hidden balcony. Gaz was crouching down where he hid, his feet ready to run and his gun in his hands.
Ghost heard her sharply exhale and barely tracked her hand fly up to the target’s bicep. Then, he saw the target slump down to his knees and fall face-first to the ground. 
“Is the target alive?” Ghost hissed, impressed but angry. “If you killed him—”
“Affirmative, LT,” she interjected, catching her breath and pulling an orange bag out of her clutch and depositing something in it. “Just a sedative. He’s gonna take a nice nap during the flight home.”
She hummed a random tune—her favorite song, Ghost noticed—as she put the bag back in her clutch. Honey waved at Gaz when he came out of hiding and walked over to her. Ghost saw her nudge the target with a bare foot and proudly put her hands on her hips.
“Bloody hell, Honey!” Gaz exclaimed, shaking his head. “Did Price know?”
“Affirmative,” Price boomed through the comms. 
The helicopter came into view and Ghost stood up with a huff, slinging his rifle back across his body. He could see them helping Honey up onto the hovering ramp, her dress blowing in the wind. He chuckled before turning running into the forest behind him towards the rendezvous point.
“Headed your way, Lieutenant.”
“Affirmative, Captain,” Ghost replied as he came to a halt next to Soap in the clearing. 
“LT!” Soap exclaimed, yanking his earpiece out, mouth agape. “Th’fuck I’d miss?”
“Ask Gaz,” he said simply, earning a groan from Soap.
The chopper thrummed overhead as it descended. They ran towards the ramp as it lowered, Honey’s triumphant face illuminated by the hold’s red light. Ghost climbed in and sat beside her with a grunt. 
Once they were airborne and starting their flight back to base, Gaz described the scene Soap had only heard. Ghost noticed her diamond necklace was askew from her skirmish and hesitantly centered it. She gave him a soft smile and turned her head so her chin grazed over his covered knuckles. The gentle hum she gave him coated him in sticky-sweet syrup. “Honey” certainly was a perfect codename for her, he reckoned, contrasting her innocent sweetness and cutesy smiles with her impressive—and, at times, lethal—infiltration skills. 
Yeah, Ghost was stuck in her treacly trap—and he didn’t plan on escaping.
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taglist (join here): @tizylish @dheet @sinfulsalutations
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itsjustjackie55 · 3 months
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Sweetness & Sweets | Justin Herbert X Reader
Warning: Smut ahead!! 18+ Minors DNI
A/N: this is shorter than what I thought it would be, I also gave up proof reading. I’ll fix it another day. Also to the anon that requested something I will work on it when I have a chance school is starting and Ive been busy im sorry. Anyway enjoy! 🫶🏽
🪽 ⋆ ⟡ 𓂃 ゚。🪽 ⋆ ⟡ ゚。🪽 ⋆ ⟡ 𓂃 ゚。🪽 ⋆
Justin and you had a natural way to pet names when your relationship had first developed. You two went out on dates and had casual talks where you’d refer to each other as basic nicknames and pet names. He’d call you baby or babe and vise versa, occasionally you’d refer to him as amor, “J”, or even by sweets.
Overall your names for each other were fairly natural, but as your relationship grew your list of names for each other grew with it. Especially during your shared time in the bedroom.
There were nights where you’d want to be as close as possible to Justin. Where you’d give him soft kisses everywhere and melt into him. Feeling the heat from his body while you tried cock warming and failed, leading to a round of slow love making. During nights like those he’d pull you much closer and call you sweetheart or princess.
On other nights where he’d have you on your hands and knees begging for him to stop licking you and just fill you up. Those rough nights where he had been upset with work. His overgrown beard scratching at your thighs when he ate you like he was starved and where he left you bent over so he could easily pump into you from behind. Pounding mercilessly while he’d pull you to his chest by your hair or by his huge hand wrapped around your neck. Then he’d whisper how good you’ve been for him and tell you how beautiful you were while he was deep inside. On nights like that he’d look at your fucked out expression and call you beautiful or baby while he helped clean you up and tuck you in right next to him.
Now on this one night when you two were on the bed, he’d decided it was time to have a corresponding pet name for the one you had given him, Sweets.
You had only given him the nickname because he was very sweet, a true sweetheart and gentleman.
His new pet name for you worked perfectly with how you tasted to him. It also resonated to him with amount of love that exuded from you, you were Sweetness in his bland world.
This time in the bedroom he was laid flat on his stomach, you on your back, legs spread open to make room for him in between.
He had licked you up and down several times kissing and teasing your opening and clit. You couldn’t help but feel lightheaded as he continued to edge you. All you could do was look down and moan at the sight of him looking up at you while his tongue lapped up your juices. Moaning out “Sweets..” hoping it’d convince him to satisfy you with what you wanted.
“You taste so good baby, I can’t get enough…”
All you could do was throw your head back and grip his hair a little tighter grinding yourself onto his freshly trimmed face harder.
“My little honeypot.. all sticky, and sweet”
Moaning out “Sweets!” once again as he sucked on your clit hard, hallowing out his cheeks. One of his hands letting go of your hips and reaching up to grope your tits. He only answered, teasing.
“Sweetness, my sweetness..”
“Oh so sweet,”
You only felt yourself get closer to the edge, you were on high from him talking and moaning on your folds. The feeling of your body betraying you as the hunk of man you got to call yours pleasured you.
That’s when you felt his big hands go up the side of your hips and wrap around your thighs as he latched himself onto your swollen, puffy nub eager to get you to finish. Alternating between sucking hard and flicking his tongue.
Your eyes squeezed shut and mouth spread wide open, chest rising up and down as your legs shook. Justin couldn’t help but look over her tummy and mounds to admire his Sweetness looking as beautiful as ever.
Licking her clean and smashing a kiss to the inside of each thigh. Taking them into his hands, dropping them from his shoulders and placing them gently onto the bed. He made his way up kissing your body, when he got to your lips, placed a passionate but harsh kiss, bringing you back to reality. All you wanted to do was stay there, in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, kissing him back as you came down from your high. His hands moving to caress your jaw and hip. All you wanted to do was sit him down and satisfy him the way he just did to you.
Reaching to pull his shorts down he couldn’t help but pull away and hiss because of his growing erection. Grabbing your hands kissing each one as he moved to kiss your forehead he pushed you to lay down with him so you both could get some rest for what would come later.
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eldritch-spouse · 1 year
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A cute human wrapped in a bow is left behind in the clergy and is assumed to be a gift, what happens to them?
[Fem reader. Minors dni. This is sort of a test.]
This one is interactive, you get to choose what happens next! [VOTE]
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" Spit it out. Spit it tha fuck out, boy! "
Sybastian remains seated on the cold break room floor, chest closed tightly, albeit snarling at the cook and the group of monsters forming a cricle around him. They have him trapped, unfortunately, he recognizes this, sweating slightly beneath his display of bravery.
See, the mimic... Got lucky, you could say.
He could hardly believe his eyes this morning. Because nothing ever happens during mornings, he was just stretching, getting started for the day with a walk around the garden. The last thing Sybastian expected was to find a crowd on the flower beds around the entrance to the establishment. Whatever was happening there had gathered Hellion, the beekeeper and several of the gargoyles, even Pebble, chattering back and forth to each other.
So engrossed in their frantic murmuring, they failed to notice the mimic rapidly approaching. Trouble, it could only mean trouble. Sybastian bat and shoved his way through the group, earning angered buzzing and hissing that was swiftly ignored, though froze in place at what awaited him.
There, on the grass, a human. Not just any kind of human, a pretty little thing, scared witless, naked like a babe, wrapped in fanciful red silk- A bow on your front to top it all off. He's not stupid, he knew you could very well be some kind of honeypot. However... He would be lying if he claimed you weren't easy on the eyes, that he didn't feel a desire to just grab you.
So he did.
" Quiet. " The large mimic had snarled when the garden residents began muttering in distaste of his selfish act. He wasn't cruel enough to let you be subjected to the whims of careless savages. Well, one could say Sybastian himself is a savage, but he'd like to think there's a difference between his type and monsters like Hellion or Colmei.
The first thing he did was walk somewhere secluded with you in his arms. No one could have blamed him for the way he drooled, the amused tittering as he tickled and fondled at your body. You're just the cutest thing, it's been too long since he caught himself a gem like this. Clever too, because as scared as you were in the moment, trembling like a leaf in the wind on his arms, you didn't scream. Maybe you realized that screaming wouldn't do you any good, after all, it was probably what gathered that small group around you. And the two of you knew things could have ended very badly if he hadn't intervened.
The mimic's game with you was cut very short when he heard footsteps, tensing. He didn't know it at the time, but the angel had begun his morning patrol already. Sybastian made a shushing gesture your way and quickly opened his massive treasure chest of a maw. In you went, wrapped by his massive tongue, only having had time to fill your lungs with air, the ensuing scream muffled greatly against the walls of his mouth. Poor thing, you must have thought he was going to devour you whole, silly. The monster had crawled away at top speeds then, entering The Clergy and making it to what he assumed would be a safe spot- The break floor.
Oh, how wrong he was.
Because everyone had gathered there before their work day started. Sybastian will admit he doesn't pay too much attention to certain warnings spread around the staff team, but he's sure today must be a big day, a really big day, for everyone to already be inside the establishment. He felt himself sweat as he stepped in, having to pretend everything was perfectly fine, but naturally, it was a wasted effort as soon as you started kicking and swinging at his insides, going as far as to pinch his tongue.
It took very little for the previously conversing group to notice Syb had something lively in his bear trap of a maw. And now, they're pressing him about it...
" Syb, ya don' gotta be like that... " The shroom caging him to the wall warns. He's taller than the mimic, but Sybastian knows a well-placed jab could give him an opening to move- The problem is everyone else in the room. " Listen- We doin' this tha nice way? "
Silent moments pass, tension rises, the walls seem to shrink.
Morell claps. " Aight... Two o' y'all git up, I'mma crack him open. "
Sybastian cowers, shaking slightly before his instincts take over and he jolts to the right- Into Santi's arms. Although smaller, the demon isn't easily displaced, and by the time Syb is stepping left, his leg and arm are caught in a yellow pool, Gallon. He's trapped.
Snarling and growling past grit teeth, the mimic's thrashing manages to jostle Santi, who laughs excitedly. Patches and Nebul murmur to each other, the robot appears to be filming, Vinnel and Grimbly snicker while Belo runs hands down his face.
The chef powers forth, kneeling. Meaty blue hands grab onto Syb's jaws, powerful and painful, the mimic grunts as gaps between several teeth are taken into advantage and the shroom manages to wiggle the tips of his fingers into his mouth, pulling hard.
" Open up! " Morell shouts, flexing with the effort, glaring. Sybastian is sure he hears himself creaking with the strain.
As the monster in cuffs swings his head around desperately, jagged teeth catch those pudgy baker hands, ripping cuts into them. Morell winces slightly, but the pain is hardly enough to make him drop the attempt, soldiering on as everyone watches with bated breath. When the chest parts just a tiny bit more, the chef's discolored and slightly luminescent blood hits his tongue, the flavor distracting Sybastian.
It's then that he remembers, with no short amount of alarm, that Morell is quite poisonous.
It was over exactly in that moment. Not wanting to chance certain death, the mimic straightens, chokes, and rapidly spits out the contents within his chest, darting to the tiny sink in the kitchenette like his life depends on it.
Your saliva-soaked body collides with Morell, the two of you landing on the ground with startled noises. Santi and Gallon scramble to find their footing, almost knocking into each other. A sort of suspense appears to drop the temperature in the room.
Total, consuming, restless quiet.
And then, hollering.
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It's been quite the ride so far. Not that your memory allows you to recall much of it.
In fact, right now, you're just happy to be free of that damp, horribly warm cavern of a mouth. The gaunt, large monster that apparently wasn't planning to eat you has brought you to its fiendish friends, it seems. The people you've been hearing muffled speaking from all this time, while he licked you idly.
The shivers that wrack your figure are both from the stark temperature difference and terror, as you take a good look at the people around.
A demon and an angel? A slime, a floating clown? The mimic, a man with a pumpkin for a head, someone with a cloak, a bat possibly? And one large robot sporting a glitched visor. What in the fuck is this? What kind of bizarre get-together have you just been tossed into? Is this why... Why you woke up in that blasted, cursed garden? To be the plaything of these loons? The part of you that wants to scream can't compare to the growing fear that has your throat clamping shut.
They're all staring at you, shouting and bickering and shoving, which is surprising. Even the one closest to you, this absolutely massive blue monster with a bulbous mushroom cap for a head, has this dumbfounded look on his face.
" Oh oh- Look at how pretty she is! " A noticeably higher-pitched voice rings out, making your head snap towards the smallest of the bunch, the wide-eyed guy you can only call a bat, albeit an unique one.
" Damn right, brought a present fer us, did'ja old Syb? " The spotted monster taunts, already a distance away, wrapping his palms with bandages. Upon a second thought, he looks like a butcher, something that doesn't sit well with you.
You get to see the same mimic that caught you, still gargling water by the sink, flip him off. Right, so that would be Syb.
More faces get closer to your awkwardly tied frame on the floor. You whimper in the back of your throat, eyes darting between talons and fangs.
" Have I been speaking to no one this entire time?! " The one with a large hat fumes. " We have no idea what's happening, she could be a distraction, a trap, something! "
" I second that. " The thing you can only call an angel nods beside the pumpkin man.
You're abruptly hoisted into an uncomfortable sitting position by numerous yellow tendrils, the red-eyed slime studying you from top to bottom before turning away. " Possibly. But look at her, Patches- She's scared witless, the poor thing. She's not going to hurt us. "
You couldn't even if you tried, honestly. The monster holding you up allows his appendages to roam, spreading goosebumps on your skin.
Patches, if you heard correctly, sighs. " It's not her I'm worried about, smartass. You know tonight is special, someone could be trying to jeopardize t- "
" Don't you think we would have been warned by now if this human held any relevance? " A new, imposing voice surges. Your head instantly darts to the purple cloaked figure, gazing into a pitch black abyss of a face with a swirling core of warm colors within it. His voice is mesmerizing, and you get the distinct feeling he's looking right at you, even without eyes. " Our lord isn't one for lapses of judgement, we have no reason to fear, only prepare. "
" That still begs the question, where did she come from? " Patches taps the mimic harshly, until said monster swats the offending hand away and shuts the sink off. " Well, we're waiting. Words this time. "
" Dunno. " He simply shrugs.
" Liar! " Finally, the floating thing talks, pointing an accusatory finger towards the monster in cuffs. He sounds constipated, or maybe that's just the natural- Did his mask actually change its expression for a second there? " You're full of shit! "
The mimic takes offense to this, making a strange sort of bark and slamming his hand on the counter. " True! " He spits out, hesitating for a second. " Found her... In garden. Today. "
" So that's why you were in such a hurry earlier... " The angel squints his three eyes at Syb. " You wanted to keep this a secret! "
" 5h4r3 7h3 5qu15hy! " The robot blurts something out, but you're sure there's something wrong with its voice, it's hard to understand what he's saying in between the odd pitch distortion. In fact, he's a whole other level of bizarre out of all these freaks.
" Speaking of, Fank-e dear, you don't have any uhm... " The demon, who you forgot was at your right this whole time, searches for words. He's very handsome, you have to admit, perhaps under different circumstances, you'd like to talk to him. " Advanced source tracing mechanisms? "
Said robot's visor blanks for a moment. There's a heavy clunk of metallic feet coming closer until he squats right in front of you. Scared shitless, you hold your breath and tear up when a cold hand grabs your chin. Something red flashes on the untouched corner of his visor, like a countdown. Everyone is quiet in anticipation.
CLICK
A flash goes off, blinding you momentarily. Fear molts into pure confusion.
" n0P3! " He cheerfully declares, a smiling emoticon facing you before he rises and steps back.
" Right... So, what was that? " The bat carefully questions.
" P1C7uR3. "
The entire group seems to collectively exhale in irritation and disappointment.
" Enough of this. " Mister void-face, because what else are you supposed to call him, huffs. His stride towards you is nothing short of terrifyingly imposing. There's an air to him that seems to demand your obedience. " Human. Who brought you to this place? "
You know you have to answer, but by God, you have absolutely no idea. The last thing you remember is making it home from a day's work, slipping into your bed... And that's it. The next thing you knew, you woke up stark naked, tied, in a cursed garden.
" I... I swear I have no idea. " You stammer out, able to sense how he radiates suspicion. " P- Please, I just w- waanna go home! " Fortunately, he seems to back down with a tut after a couple of moments, satisfied with whatever be saw in you.
More vague murmuring.
" Oh screw it! " The jester yells, giving you a look you don't really enjoy. " It hardly matters where our petunia's from- I say finders keepers. "
Oh no. Oh no no, you're so fucked.
There's a purr to your side. Suddenly, it's not just tendrils on your body, a warm pair of big hands strokes up and down your drool-soaked arms. You tense like a plank, at least for the first five seconds, a strange sense of calm taking over afterwards. Muscles become lax even as your brain screams that something's awfully wrong.
" Mmm, I do love the idea of her sticking around, we could all get to know her a little. " He slurs, a touch too close to your ear. Even if you were the most naive people in this world, there's no room for doubt about what he's implying. These bastards want a little fucktoy. At the same time your cheeks are set aflame, you're frozen with anxiety.
" Unhand her! " The winged one shouts, a pale but beautiful double-axed staff summoned into his hand. " This is an abnormal occurrence and she must be taken to Admin, immediately. " Who?
The demon lets go of you, groaning. " Must you be the thorn in everyone's side? "
" Ugh jeez, what a suck-up. "
" B00- "
" No one asked you, pigeon brain! "
You watch, more than a little stupefied, as this team of monsters essentially gangs up on the angel, putting him down very quickly.
" How 'bout this, I have 'er first 'cause I set 'er free. " The chef booms, hands on his waist. " Sounds fair, hm? "
Syb throws a tasteless snarl his way, standing to square up with the chef, who doesn't look too intimidated by the display. They're about to fight, and the rest of them don't seem to care to stop it, starting to argue with each other again, each one claiming you're clearly meant to be in their hands.
" CEASE. "
It feels as if every bone in your body locked into place, you can hardly wheeze in terror, not just frightened by perpetually confused it seems. Everyone else seems to tremble to a halt as well, the tendrils previously holding you receding back into the slime's core protectively.
The cloaked figure takes the center of the room. " Dim-witted fools, it's a wonder we function as a team at all. " He chastises. " We will get nowhere with this, I will finish this nonsense here and now. " There's a pause, miffed looks and petty murmurs thrown about.
" You. "
" Yes, you. " Who else, is left unsaid. " We have no time to sort you out properly. You will pick one of us to stay with for the day. Now. "
Ah yes, he's definitely looking your way. Once more, your throat dries into a desert. And, like an idiot, you mutter. " M- Me? "
If you could afford it, you'd be having a massive breakdown by now. But you can't, you have to stay minimally composed, you can't let these monsters see you in an even more vulnerable state.
" Utter madness... " The angel growls, waving.
The other gives him a sedated head tilt, as if daring him to protest further. He doesn't.
" Choose. " The swirling hues in that dark pool command you.
Well...
Let's look at the options then.
The chef is definitely scary, you're not sure how much you dig his vibes, but he got you out of the mimic's mouth, and he doesn't look like he scares easily. Maybe he's a good bet to keep the others away from you.
The slime is creepy, definitely, but he's been one of the calmest elements so far, going as far as to sound easy-going about the situation. Something about his gaze doesn't sit right with you, but he could be a safe bet.
The bat is small. Cute too. You don't think he's very aggressive, and even if you're naturally still wary of him, it's hard to feel afraid of someone much shorter than you. Who knows, maybe you can even defend yourself if need be...
The demon looks at you in a way you'd rather not linger on, but he's also been quite calm throughout this. Maybe, if you appeal to some sort of mercy in him, he could just let you run away? He looks smug.
The pumpkin-headed monster is suspicious of you, but he looks interested in getting to the bottom of why you're here. He's also on the smaller side, but you can sense there's more to him.
The angel said he'd bring you to someone called "Admin"... Maybe that could be your way out? Once they realize you're here by mistake, s-surely you'll be led away. Hopefully? He looks like an obedient worker.
The cloaked one has been able to take control of the situation several times. He's good at diffusion tension and seems to hold respect here. Maybe he'll keep you safe? He's intense and mildly scary.
The jester has been giving you nothing but alarming vibes this entire time. He's incendiary and odd, but maybe that creepiness will discourage others from trying to snatch you. He's just a weird doll, right?
The robot has been harmless to you so far. He even looks kind of goofy in the midst of all this. Sure, you can barely comprehend him, but he seems excitable and happy as opposed to predatory.
The mimic took you away from the creatures in the garden. You're not sure what his deal is, but he had a reason to hide you from these guys, right? Maybe he didn't just do it to be selfish and keep you...
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This is a tumblr hug, pass it on to your ten favorite followers and mutuals💖 <3 (if you want to)
thank you so much jojo, im hugging you back <333
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Sevarion the Torturer (Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun)
Sevarion's Advantages: -extensive torture experience -big, sharp beheading sword that he is very chop-happy with -dressed to intimidate as a 80's bdsm goth -believes in some kind of psuedo-christian religion -has his dead noblewoman gf/torture victim's memories and personality -a magical relic that can revive the dead and control minds (when it/Sevarion's feeling it) -he might be an incarnation of Jesus(?) -has canonically climbed a slippery cliff on a rain-swept night
Sevarion's Disadvantages -Incredibly horny, too horny to live -Also the biggest misogynist you can imagine -Not super smart, tends to default to violence -tends to be dominated by strong authorities (given he's lived his life in a super strict caste system) -cannot overstate the horny factor, that alone almost gets him killed like 6 times a book
I think Sevarion makes it? He might just actually be cool with Dracula because the weirdo nobles he serves as a torturer don't seem to be that much better than old batsy. If it comes down to a fight Sevarion has some serious religious clout with the Claw (dunno if it would hurt Dracula, but it seems like it would do something?) and a fighting style based entirely on beheading people, which should be a little scary to a vampire.
What I am getting is that this is a job interview. Dracula is in the market for a Torturer and Sevarion is going to be the next poor sap's problem.
Dracula might be hesitant because, as you say, decapitation is one of the things he's sensitive about. On the other hand Dracula's fatal flaw is arrogance, so this might end up a case of "I never thought the guy who beheads people with his beheading sword was going to behead me!" And you said he comes pre-programmed for obedience.
A horny misogynist who can revive and dominate the dead is going to sooner or later run into the Castle Dracula honeypot - the Girlies. Is he horny, misogynistic, and powerful enough to revive those dead? Fuck you, unvampirizes your babes. Sorry boss, my harem now. Which I think will result in the immediate termination of his employment. But it sounds like he's the kind of guy who knows how to escape out the window without his pants.
So yeah, it sounds like Sevarion the Torturer can survive Castle Dracula, but Dracula might have to delay his dreams of conquest go devote all his energy to correcting that fact, Decapitator or no
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drpeppertummy · 6 months
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kathleen & irene event For The First Time wahouu super tiny bc im still getting to know them
[post-stuffing, tummyache, tummy rubs, mild burping]
"Oh, gosh, don't let me eat any more," Kathleen groaned, reaching over Irene's lap to put the popcorn bowl on the other side of her. Her tummy pushed out tight and hard against her just-too-short pajama shirt, stuffed so full that she couldn't suck it in if she tried. The two had eaten a big dinner earlier--it was Friday, and they always went out on Fridays--and while she'd had some time to digest between then and now, she'd quickly filled herself right back up and then some with popcorn and a Shirley Temple during their movie.
"I can't believe you even ate that much," Irene chuckled. She gently took her skinny wife into her arms, resting both hands on her distended tummy. It was unbelievably taut, with no give to it, and the feeling of it trying to stretch tighter with each breath made Irene's own stomach ache. She winced sympathetically.
"Sheesh, honeypot, you really did overdo it," she said, giving Kathleen's overstuffed belly a gentle rub. It didn't take much for Kathleen to overdo it; she was skinny as a rail with an appetite to match, and she had a tendency to swallow a lot of air while she ate, leaving her uncomfortably bloated even after a small meal. Knowing this, Irene pressed in as gently as she could while she rubbed, hoping to lure out a burp and release some of the pressure. Kathleen let out a tiny moan.
"Sorry, babe," said Irene, easing up.
"No, it's fine," Kathleen assured her. She leaned her head against Irene's shoulder, slipping an arm around her soft waist.
"You sure? That is a seriously tight tummy." Kathleen nodded.
"I really need to burp," she admitted, almost sheepishly. "I can't get anything to come up."
"Well, let's see what we can do about that." Irene continued her gentle massage, applying a soft pressure against Kathleen's bulging upper belly, trying to coax the trapped air upwards. Finally, she felt a low rumble bubble up under her hand, and out came a tiny burp. It didn't help much.
"You're gonna have to do better than that," Irene chuckled, giving her belly a pat. It felt and sounded like thumping a watermelon. She felt Kathleen's belly tense up under her hand as she desperately tried to force up another, but nothing came. Irene began rubbing again, feeling sorry for her. As she did, she patted her back, trying to help dislodge the air.
Suddenly, Kathleen's belly rumbled loudly, and an enormous burp escaped her before she even realized it was coming. Irene felt her stomach deflate under her hand. The two froze for a moment, astonished, and then dissolved into laughter. Kathleen fell back against the couch cushion with a sigh of relief, still giggling. Her belly still poked out noticeably, but she no longer felt like she was about to pop.
"I don't know how you got all that in there, but I'm glad it's out," laughed Irene, patting her belly again. It wasn't nearly as tight as it had been.
"Tell me about it," Kathleen snorted. She rested her hands on her tummy, then let herself slump over against her wife, wrapping her arms tightly around her. Irene returned the hug, and they went on watching the movie.
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So Vegas sent hot female assassin on a honeypot mission to murder kinn knowing full well that kinn is gay as hell. That’s feminism, babes. Supporting women in STEM (Sensible Termination Eradication and Murder)
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fluffypotatey · 8 months
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Leverage Ep 11 >:3
Pre-game thoughts:
ngl the last episode was a lot of fun! got to see Nate at his breaking point, Sophie being the best (as always), ALEC AND ELIOT DUO!!!!!
also it looks like this one focuses on Parker? (at least, that’s what the blurb says 🤷🏻‍♀️) so praying for more moments for my ot3 🥰 either as duos or altogether, I do not care. just want them to have screen time 
anyway, can’t really think of anything else to add???
I mean, this is the last episode before the 2-parter finale, so I’m curious if this will touch on…..the ✨insurance company✨and that uh Crowley-looking dude (unrelated to GO!Crowley, a show I should also watch)
BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT ON WITH THE SHOW ✨ 
Reaction:
ooooooh a flashback 👀
Ok that was not a safe dose
AHHHHHH THE STOVE
NOOOOOOOOO ERNESTO
is he dead?????
oooooooooh team drama 👀
lmaooooo parents (Nate/Sophie) using jury duty as a lesson
“Yeah, I know jury duty, this seems legit” <- has only gone once
OooooOOOoooooOoOooh defendant is wearing colored shades, he must be an asshole 😂
WAIT WHAT
WHO IS FILMING THE CASE???? IS THAT LEGAL????
babe, please step the fuck away from the jury panel. i would not be in favor of you anyways with you standing so close wtf
oop! she knows!!! fuck they’re gonna strike her out 
ok but seriously who are those camera people???? are they even a real legal team???? the ick is strong, I hope they burn this other team to the ground
YES PARKER
CONVINCE THEM
SHUT NATE YOU WERE A SLIMY INSURANCE MAN BEFORE YOU DONT GET TO TALK
everybody giving Nate the stink eye, yesssssssssss 
(You would think, with how much I yell at this man, I hate him, but tis the opposite! Love him. He’s just an asshole, and I would never like him in person, great character <3)
OMFG ALEC BACKSTORY??????
YES PLEASE
NANA YOU BADASS
ELIOT AND PARKER DUOOOOOO
FUCK YES
Lmao he took the beer
literally before clicking play I was like “you know, I don’t think Parker and Eliot have been a duo yet” AND HERE WE GO
ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE
nO glasses guy 🫢 was a faker?! <- is not shocked
jfc Alec is good 😍
ok what you doing Parker? oh wait nvm 
Chess???? lmao you nerd
“Hmmmm how do we show an evil character is smart…..I KNOW! Chess!”
ohhhhhh big pharma ok (can’t believe it took me this long)
WAIT WE DOING POISONED APPLE
ugh no we’re not
oh shit bribery????
ELIOT PLAYS CHESS???? you fucking nerd 💕
lmao Parker gets a lesson in social interaction (I’m so sorry, girlie, I’d hate it too, but tbh I also befriended an older lady while at jury duty so same????)
it’s ok Parker you tried your best 🫂
“I have a peanut allergy” <- love you Alec 
Nate, I sure hope you don’t regret that honeypot plan
OHHHHHHHHH oh dear ok now the brownface comments make sense
Ok show’s age has been shown
jfc Sophie wtf please tell me this is the only episode where this happened 
“I’m very spiritual” <- 🤢 god how many times have I heard this
Jesus H Christ I can’t even look at her T^T
awwwww Sophie is helping Parker
ELIOT YOU ARE SO CUTE
HES TRYING
PARKER YOU CUTIE 🥰 
i want Parker and the grandma to be friends. Like best friends
lmaooooooo she’s foreman now (I don’t think I spelled that right)
girlie, you sound like you’re giving the old man a job interview 😂
SHE GONNA BUY OUT THE LAWYER???? 
He won’t
Nate noooooooooo
ALEC
YES
MY BOY
HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN A SUIT
but also shit they are treading the legality there (<- she says even tho they do this every episode)
“Do you trust your government, Ms. Vargas?” ALEC 😂😂😂😂 bringing back the old teachings of being a Jehova Witness i see
WE ARE BARELY HALFWAY?????? (Sorry just looked at the time stamp  what do you mean it’s only been 20 minutes????)
“is that a high school yearbook?” oh my god
Alec, babe, love you, but what
ALEC I LOVE YOU
girlie you could say cauliflower steak
Awwwwwwwwwwww Parker has a friend 🤧🤧🤧🤧
Alec’s headshot is beautiful 
“It all checks out unless [says an example of exactly what Alec did]”
Ooooooh outsource mention 👀 
Nate there are cameras!!!!
“You know why they say, ‘Justice has a blindfold’? Because Justice is asleep” FUCKING DEAD
ok bro this isn’t jury duty anymore this is a trial???? did I miss the part where they finished jury selection 
OH SO HE’S AN ACTOR???
lmaooooo he was Scottish 
Awwwwwwwww Parker 🥺 “she likes rainy days” im fucking sobbing
Ok now that’s why we were only halfway 
“We win the trial” LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO
Hehe Alec has to actually win the trial
“You think lawyers aren’t just pretending and trying to fill in daddy’s shoes” ok, uh, wow 💔 
SHE GOT A BAG LUNCH 🥺🤧
Eliot on another parents trip!!!
wait who is he fighting???? Oh ok
Nate, you look so fucking dumb 😂
*gasp* THAT MEDICAL MAN IS LYING FIGHT HIM ALEC
oh ho ho! bringing up his qualifications I see 👀 why he now only doing cases in Cali 👀
OH HO 👀
HE BROUGHT UP BIN LADEN 👀
GET HIS ASS ALEC! FUCK HIM UP!!! FUCK! HIM! UP!
Alex’s closing statement 👀 omg 🥺 yes babe 🤧 beautiful 💐 take my flowers 💐💐💐💐💐
jfc I’m nervous!!!! I know this will end happy but still!!!! So nervous 🫠
nooooo, she must not figure out 🫠
Oh dear, 
OH YES THEY TURNED OFF THE TV WONDERFUL
lol yesssss girlie, burn that fucking bridge!!!! BURN THE BRIDGE!!!! DIG THAT HOLE!!!!
unrelated but her jacket is super pretty
ok ok here we go. fuck I’m nervous 
YESSSSS LETS GO BITCH
FUCK YEAH MESS WITH THEIR CAMERA
why are you revealing yourself to her????? bro she could find people to get you!!!!
OMG SHE MADE A FRIEND! GET THAT COFFEE
Final Thoughts:
this episode was so much fun!!!! we may not have gotten much of the Parker/Eliot duo but I’m still happy that they got to tag-team! Parker learning how to socialize, be a team player, and lead was just 👌👌👌👌👌👌 wonderful so proud of her T^T Alec was amazing (obviously) and fucking killed both for stalling the case and winning it <3
not as much Nate/Sophie moments besides them acting like parents to their teammates and being a well-oiled machine 😎 so I’m still satisfied! a little disappointed that there wasn’t any hint for the finale but that might just be because of the messed up order again 😔 
overall: wonderful episode, this might be my favorite of the season (tho Miracle Job still has my heart)
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Despite the constant noise of the moving machines and the blaring music Tony preferred in his lab, there was a silence surrounding you. It wasn’t unusual for you to join Tony when he was working but today you hesitated in the doorway. You knew you needed to talk to him, finally ready to bear your secrets, but he looked happy, content. You didn’t want to ruin it, ruin what you had together. You could admit it now, even if it was just to yourself, but you loved the ridiculous man currently threatening to donate his robot son to the local community college — and so you knew that it was time for your secrets to become his secrets.
You don’t know how long you stood in the doorway of his lab cradling a manilla folder that summarized your life but eventually Tony caught sight of you from the corner of his eyes. With a sharp gesture, the music cut out and your ears rang with the echoes of it screaming about the highway to hell.
“Hey babe,” Tony motioned you to come closer and you started to move without thought. When you finally stood in front of him, you lifted yourself up to the table he was sitting in front of, allowing your legs to part enough that he settled between your thighs. He laid his arms across your knees and placed his chin on them, simply content to stare up at you.
You put down the folder of paperwork next to you and let your fingers comb through his hair, calming your nerves. It was against your training to get nervous of course, but you had found that Tony prompted the most unusual responses from you. His eyes started to slip shut, the silence and lack of movement and your peaceful presence moving him towards sleep.
“I need to tell you something,” you broke the quiet, carefully not moving from your spot, and working to keep your tone soothing and even. You licked your lips to buy some time when Tony opened his eyes to peer up at you again. “I need to tell you something…and I don’t know how you’re going to react.”
“…babe?” He sounded concerned, his back straightening out — slipping away from you, your hands falling from his head and hair.
You couldn’t think of trying to force the words out, trying to untwist the awful story and all the lies, forcing out all the atrocities you’d committed, you handed him the thick manilla folder. You knew the story that it told, from the very beginning to the last past. You had lived it, after all.
Instead of watching him flip through the pages, taking in the information faster than you could imagine, you watched him. The Red Room had trained you extensively in reading body language and Tony’s was nearly as familiar to you as your own was. His poker face, though, was a thing of legends. You knew when he got to the notes on all the experimentations and procedures that had been performed on you. You saw when he got to the pages listing out your confirmed kills.
And you saw when his heart cracked apart when he got to the last mission in the folder — Tony Stark, Honeypot.
His eyes fluttered shut and stayed that way as he took several deep breaths, centering himself again as he slotted all the new information into place.
When he opened his eyes again and looked at you, you almost cried because of the ice in his gaze. Instead, you just nodded to the still open file. He wasn’t done with your history yet and you weren’t going to move until he did.
You weren’t the only one keeping secrets from him and you thought he might want to know that his godfather, Obidiah Stane, was the one who bought your services to seduce and eventually kill him.
@febuwhump
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theearlgreymage · 1 year
Text
WIP Tag Game
Rules: Post the names of all the the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with a title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
Thanks @ileadacharmedlife and @bazzybelle for tagging me in this fun little game!
WIPs that are currently available on AO3
Infinity in Your Chest Pocket
Let's Avoid Spoilers, Darling
Shrouded in the Woods
Talk French to Me
The Hunt
WIPs that are drafted but not available
Wands and Hair
Mines Definitely Bigger
Honeypot
RP with @buffy
RP with @upuntil6am
WIPs that are only outlines at this point
SnowBaz Witcher!AU
SnowBaz Buddy Daddies!AU
Another Salisbury-Pitch Child?
Unnamed COBB fic #1
Unnamed COBB fic #2
In conclusion. I need approximately 3 months in a hobit hole to write. Please send good vibes regarding the health of my fingers.
Since I've been at work all day, I haven't a clue who's done this already. But I have to tag 15 folks. So, my apologies if you've done this already.
@ivelovedhimthroughworse @shrekgogurt @ic3-que3n @buffy @ionlydrinkhotwater @artsyunderstudy @stardustasincocaine @aristocratic-otter @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @onepintobean @confused-bi-queer @martsonmars @hushed-chorus @nausikaaa
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