#alejandro frustrated

[milksteakkk]

"noah and alejandro look like brothers"

[valentialbein]

I figure it’s worth putting on the Tumblr radar since much of this is current discussion of Niosi is happening on Twitter.

(content warnings for sexual assault, abuse, manipulation, and otherwise taking advantage of people)

On Chris Niosi, and Kyle McCarley’s defense of him:

Recently Chris Niosi (aka Kirbopher), who has admitted to abusing people around him for at least a decade, was cast in Honkai Star Rail as the character Moze. Five years have passed since his public apology, where he addresses some specific callouts from victims to debatable effect, but unfortunately he’s lied about apologizing to all of his victims (1, 2), and the specific apologies he has written are now deleted from his tumblr, calling his efforts into changing for the better into his question. Furthermore, as he has a history of taking advantage of his fans even in his more underground days (1+2, 3), putting him in a situation where he has access to more fans to put him on a pedestal is dangerous. Other users have iterated much of this already on tumblr, where it was already discussed in previous years, so this is just some context.

But I’m here to talk about something related that hasn’t gotten any Tumblr coverage. For example, people here have talked about Griffin Puatu’s reddit post defending him already. But nobody has mentioned Kyle McCarley defending him yet.

On July 19, 2024, in the replies of Moze’s introduction tweet, he had this to say:

He addresses his use of “bad boyfriend” downplaying legitimate abuse later. I don't think it's great but we’ll get to that. However, “the court of public opinion” is a concept that he does stand by, perhaps reinforced by the backlash he received for this. Some of this was vitriolic, given the kind of person he was defending from further criticism, but others did try to reason with him, including some of the above and more as evidence that Niosi isn’t being entirely truthful about his atonement, and overall most responses expressed disbelief and disappointment more than anything else.

Still, he deactivated his account the following day, on July 20, 2024.

Unfortunately, our story doesn’t end there. In the early morning of July 21, 2024, he made an announcement in his Discord server.

So here's the thing about Niosi not being a confirmed sexual abuser or rapist or pedophile. I don't have everything, with this being such an expansive case so this is off what I've found. You know the time he planned to take advantage of his girlfriend at the time while said girlfriend was intoxicated (plus this follow-up where he attempted to cover for himself)? Drunk people cannot consent, especially not when drunk sex is already a hard boundary. Although this technically doesn't make him a rapist, to my knowledge, if you're gonna argue semantics it'll just sound like "well he didn't ACTUALLY rape someone so it's not as bad". Is it not already terrible that he tried to and still downplayed it when called on it? Besides, as mentioned in Lighty's testimony linked above, he's let other in his sphere groom minors under his watchful eye, and his other ex Audrey had things to say about how he weaponized sexual favors too. If someone actually has more on a history of sexual abuse and pedophilia, though, please bring it to my attention. I'll add it to this post.

Either way, we don't know what he knows. At best, Kyle has a very incomplete picture of the situation, and at worst he does have a complete picture and he just doesn’t think it’s valid or up-to-date criticism. The person who first brought this to people's attention on Twitter also mentioned that her messages in the server were being deleted when she spoke up to provide evidence, so for someone who welcomes others to share evidence how open he actually is to it is questionable. (UPDATE: There's more to this part of the story but we'll get to it in a future update.) His final message a couple of hours from these just solidifies it.

Having joined the server myself to see, around the time of the announcements seems to have been scrubbed clean, but there is some current discussion of the topic as of this post. Furthermore, someone there has stated that they're compiling sources to send his way to give him a better understanding of the situation (even if they're not sure if he still wants to talk about this), so maybe this will finally get him to reconsider his stance! Only time will tell.

Overall, though, I stand by my point that if Niosi makes a living, it should be somewhere far away from the public eye. Don't give him a platform to find new fans to take advantage of. Don't give his victims the opportunity to be retraumatized whenever they start a new game of show. He's been given more than enough chances. It's time to turn over a new leaf instead of digging his heels into the ground.

Still, I don't know if Kyle will change his mind at this point. I want him to - I tried, back when his Twitter was still up - but even at this stage he's doubled down on a situation he knows he might not have the full story on and I'm not sure if I can trust that. For any other fans, give this some thought - keep an eye out for any future developments if you still want to have faith in him, move on from him if you can't stand it. I just want him to at least hold his friend accountable instead of trying to shield him from the lasting consequences of his own actions.

(I'll be linking future updates here: #1, #2 and #3 for now.)

[zimulacrum]

Listen I’m all for shipping what you want to ship, I’m not telling you you can’t ship someone (as long as it’s not illegal) but like. I’m sorry. I do not see or understand alenoah. ESPECIALLY when

1. Alejandro was literally MADE for Heather and they’re so good together

2. NOWEN IS RIIIGHT THEEEREEE

[sassy-bitch-since-2007]

Ok but Alejandro being a girl and still making every girl on that show flustered would've been so damn funny like the girls truly find her attractive and charming and makes them question their sexual orientation at least one time fem!Alejandro is a MENACE.

Meanwhile Heather, the only lesbian around, doesn't see the appeal at all and is lowkey offended by the whole situation.

[timetohealit]

I’m so frustrated why do men

[cod-dump]

After a long mission with no rest:

Price: Dead eyes, he looks like he's going to kill someone. He's mumbling. Do not ask him to repeat himself unless you want his frustrations taken out on you verbally. Has had four cups of coffee and a pack of cigs. Don't look him in the eye.

Soap: He can't keep focus, what is he even looking at? Trails off in the middle of talking. No, he probably won't finish that thought, better luck next time. He has been chewing on his hoodie drawstrings, don't let him swallow them, please.

Ghost: Has been staring at the spot on the wall for the last twenty minutes without blinking. Is he dead? Or sleeping with his eyes open? Either option is possible. Don't touch him, he will bite. Have tea as an offering.

Gaz: Looks like he's about to cry. Nothing productive has come from him since the flight landed. Don't ask him to do anything because it won't get done. Yes, he heard you. No, he will not respond.

Nik: Has been laughing to himself. Did he fly here? Yes. Is he flying back? No his keys are being taken from him, he's passing out in hanger in the back of his bird. Will be mistaken for dead later.

Laswell: She's talking fast but she is not making as much sense as she should. Frustrated, she has her head in her hands. Will fall asleep like that. No, she doesn't want a cup a tea, she wants concentrated caffeine injected into her veins, fuck off.

Graves: If looks could kill... His hair is sentient, he has not touched it since they got to exfil. Southern charm? No, southern sarcasm. He requires thirteen hours of an uninterrupted coma and a pot of coffee.

Alejandro: Incredibly argumentative. Personal space? He doesn't know what that is, doesn't care. Don't be fooled, he's going to start crying if he can't get to a bed in a pitch black room soon.

Rudy: Sarcasm to the max, will make someone cry. If he doesn't answer the first time then don't repeat yourself. He will bitch until he gets to curl up in bed. Don't touch him if you value any and all of your fingers.

Farah: Trying to be overly friendly because she doesn't want to unintentionally upset someone while exhausted. Will say something bitchy then immediately apologize. Please get her some coffee.

Alex: On autopilot, isn't all there. He can go for another two days before passing out. Don’t let him do that. Will say something batshit and then move on without acknowledging it. He's talking to the clowns, do worry about it.

[blood-smiles]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 (YANDERE! LAWYER.. SFW- MDNI)

That damn maid. That goddamn maid had Alejandro crazy. Who did she think she was? Trying to get close to you? Getting all friendly with you. His darling. HIS darling.

He got rid of his ex wife, not much of a hassle really. Just a little of deception and a gentle push off a balcony was needed.

Now he had you all to himself, all his now. He thought he had made it crystal clear. He would smile as he noticed people looked at him differently now, they saw a man with purpose. Fearless and willing to do anything for his purpose.

A new hire had wormed his way into his manor, you oh-so innocently insisted for him to get at least one extra set helping hand around. 

He gave into your sweet eyes and pretty pleas so easily, when you made that face.. How could he not?

But it seemed he had a new pest in his hands now. It started with her trying to get into his pants but after a small meaningless threat she had decided to back off.

But then she realized that you meant more than a lot to Alejandro. she had a natural advantage of having such a doll like face and being a woman, so she latched onto you like a flea to a dog.

He seethed  as he watched her run her hands up and down your back and arms. You didn’t think much of it, so caring and so sweet. Of course you wouldn’t, you were sure of your place in Alejandro’s heart.

But Alejandro knew how easy you could be led astray by her lingering touches and tender words. After all, he had used the same method on you, but the difference was that he loved you. He did it all in the name of love, something pure and beautiful.

But this filthy harlot didn’t have the same intentions he did though. No, this was all twisted and wrong. She wanted to get back at him for cruelly insulting and rejecting her. The man saw how the maid smirked at him when she succeeded in making you laugh or flush in embarrassment.

Enough was enough.

The purple haired man sat beside you on a cloudy day, the both of you were enjoying a savory meal he had prepared for you. He gently wiped your face when you smeared food on your cheek. 

If it was anyone else he would be appalled, a grimace on his elegant features.

But in his eyes you looked so happy and cute, of course there are exceptions for you!

Then tragedy struck, Annalise, the new maid had ‘accidentally’ spilled a pitcher of water on her uniform while bringing it to the both of you.

Water splashed over you and her, and to his disgust, she landed on you. Chest pressed against your face and arms wrapped around your shoulders for stability.

She smiled at you with feigned embarrassment, apologizing meekly as she looked down at you.

“G-GET OFF HER!” Alejandro uncharacteristically yelled, grabbing her hands, prying them off your shoulders. His own arms flying to hug you tightly against his chest this time, looking at the woman like she had just dropped poison in your tea.

Annalise looked up at him, a calculating look in her eyes. She was about to begin with those sad puppy eyes. Repulsive. It was repulsive and vile how she thought that she could manipulate you into feeling bad for her, with those crocodile tears of hers.

She turned around and ran away, hoping that you would trail after her and offer your sweet condolences to the woman.

“Alejandro! What is the matter with you? Look! You made her cry!” You exclaimed, turning to him, not anger, but disappointment in your eyes. 

You tried to pry his arms off you, he was significantly taller and stronger than you, your shoves against him feeling like the playful paws of a puppy against his chest.

He dragged you away to a room inside the large house. Closing the door behind him before grabbing you again.

Tears welled in his eyes, eerily quiet as he held onto you for dear life. He shook his head, his ruby like eyes not leaving your form.

His shoulders shook in frustration. In longing.

He suddenly lunged, arms wrapping around your own, his biceps pinning your arms to your hips, making it impossible to move.

“Don’t.. Don’t leave me! She—She is lying! That prude witch is trying to steal you from me!” 

His tone was desperate, the delicate and professional glasses on his nose bridge sliding down, the lenses becoming fogged and wetted by his salty tear drops.

“P-Please.. I’ll do anything! I’ll make her disappear if you want, do you want that? She won’t be able to take you away from me if she is gone first!” He dropped to his knees, hands gripping the flesh of your calves tightly.

“I’ll be good! I promise— I-I’m a loyal mutt for you! I will always be devoted to you! You have my leash in your hand! Don’t leave with her, I beg you!” He exclaimed, tears running down his face. Lips beginning to bleed from the force he was biting down with.

“You are mine! Only mine! And..And I swear with my life that I am yours! I will provide for you and protect you! What can that disgusting wench go for you? Nothing at all! I’m all you need, all you need is at your feet!” 

He laughed, tears still streaking his face, madness circling in his eyes in spirals. His pale hands unbuttoned his dress shirt enough to expose his chest, pressing his soft skin against your leg.

You felt the pounding of his heart against your leg, his chest red from his own nails clawing at it. As if wanting to rip his heart out in an act of love, to prove that he was willing to give up his own life for you.

He gasped out between soft sobs, the skin below his eyes and tip of his nose turning a pretty red from crying. Taking shaky breaths, waiting to see what your reaction was.

You stared down at him, not expecting this sudden outburst from him, one of the most calm and collected men you had ever met. He kept his emotions controlled to a T, never would he let anyone see vulnerability from him, he had everything puppeteered to a precise and perfect point.

It was unexpected, to have him at your feet desperate for your attention and approval. Having a meltdown and a fit of jealousy and insecurity.

He was such a pretty crier. You knew this because of the passionate love nights the two of you would have. The only difference this time was that he wasn’t crying out of pleasure, but out of envy and frustration.

You lifted an arm, gently placing it on his head, your fingers beginning to thread through his soft straight hair. Making small braids in his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

His bruising hold on your leg softened as he leaned his head against your hand. 

“You’re so strange.” You finally spoke, smiling down at him.

“I love you, Alejandro. I’m already bound to you in every way, I thought you knew this well already.” You assured, hand leaving his head and instead dragging down to his face, taking his glasses from his face and cleaning them with the hem of your shirt.

“You get jealous over such silly things.” He looked up at you with admiration, moments like this solidified his belief that you truly were the one for him. His other half. 

You gently placed his glasses back on his nose, gently pushing them up for him. 

Alejandro pushed you down to his level, embracing you in a tight hug yet again. His chin resting on the top of your head as he relished in your warmth.

He closed his eyes, relief spreading throughout his chest at the reminded that he didn’t have any competition. You, the apple of his eye weren’t going anywhere.

Perhaps it was time to put that snake-like bitch’s head on a stick, then maybe that will make a statement that you were off limits. ♥︎

[jakesimlover444]

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

synopsis: as long as i exist, someone loves you.

warnings/genre: bsfs to lovers, hyunjin is pining, insecure yn, heavy ass make out between reader and hyunjin

wc: 1373

based on this req

another saturday night.

another failed date.

yn laid on her bed, eyes filled to the brim with tears, texting her best friend about her terrible night.

yn: he was such a fucking asshole.

hyunjin: the guy who went on the date with?? what‘d he to do you??

yn: god, where do i even start 💀

hyunjin: hold on. i‘m coming over

yn was smiling on the inside at her best friend’s concern, but her grin couldn’t be brought to her exterior, as her feelings of greif far overpowered any joy she could fathom.

tossing her phone on her pillow with a heavy sigh, yn turned onto her back to face her ceiling, eyes locked on her fan spinning above her. she still wore her cute little sweater and skirt that gave the classiest old-money heiress vibe she picked out for her date with alejandro tonight.

yn finally sat up and made her way out to her kitchen and living room area the moment hyunjin arrived, letting himself in using the copy of yn‘s apartment key she gave him.

"yn.." hyunjin quietly spoke, his gaze softening at the sight of his distraught best friend. her mascara stained her plump, reddened cheeks and her once neat, perfectly blown out hair was disheveled in the back from laying down on it. those same eyes he loved so much were no longer filled with the same happy anticipation he saw this evening. they were filled with a hurting frustration. one he yearned to put an end to.

"oh yn.." hyunjin‘s voice was as gentle as his touch when he pulled yn in for a hug, not holding her too tight in fear she would break. his large, veiny hand combed the back of yn‘s hair, tenderly fixing the little knots and tangles that formed. he softly shushed her, rocking her delicate body side to side with his as dejected sobs escaped yn‘s lips, mumbling incoherent nonsense about her despondent date with alejandro.

"oh, yn…a few bad dates don‘t mean anything. the right one is waiting there for you." hyunjin comforted the crying girl, pulling back just enough to cup her reddened face. "you‘re just one step closer to finding him." hyunjin shot yn a reassuring smile, his gaze never leaving her face.

"how…how am i ever going to find the one for me if there is nobody out there who wants me?" yn spoke through her sobs, her tone coming out frustrated as she gripped hyunjin‘s t-shirt, exerting some of her pent up anger at the world and towards men into her firm grasp.

hyunjin‘s hold on yn‘s face tightened ever so subtly—not enough to hurt yn, but to implicate the irritation building in him at yn‘s self-deprecating remark.

"you think nobody out there wants you? you really think you’re not worth loving or fighting for?" hyunjin loosened his hands on yn‘s cheeks, sliding down to her narrow shoulders, giving them light squeezes.

"do you know how lucky any man would be to call you his own?" hyunjin quickly adverted his gaze before locking those dark, passionate eyes back on yn. "to have a woman like you…to have the very definition of ethereal by their side would make any man the most envied creature this world has seen. you are worth more than all the diamonds on earth, more than any artifact in these deep oceans, and more valuable than time itself. never forget that, yn."

god, if yn wasn‘t already crying because of her horrible time tonight she most definitely would have started bawling her eyes out then and there at her best friend’s words. she knew hyunjin was fond of her—obviously. they‘ve been inseparable since fifth grade. but this made her question his feelings for her a bit more. yn never got the impression hyunjin had feelings for her beyond platonic, despite everyone else attempting to convince her hyunjin was in love with her. but this passionate statement that fell from hyunjin‘s mouth almost did the job of convincing her.

almost.

but yn simply kept quiet for a moment, searching those eyes for any lies but only finding a genuine, burning ferventness.

"you give me too much credit. i‘m not that special—"

"not that special?" hyunjin cut yn off, running his hands down her arms to hold her hands, his grip as firm as his voice like he was scolding her. "yn i am so sick of you feeling like shit about yourself! god, you are the most perfect girl i have ever seen, you know that? if you could see yourself through my eyes you would see just how god took his time crafting you by hand, each detail with the utmost care. your hair as soft as the finest silk…" hyunjin‘s hand ran through yn‘s hair. "your face that remains the most beautiful i‘ve ever seen no matter what expression crosses your path.." hyunjin’s hand cupped her jaw. "you have an intelligence and stubbornness that lights a fire inside of you impossible to smother. you have a kindness that is unmatched and a drive that challenges me and dozens of others. this ambition i have seen in no one else. and the love inside of you i see you giving everywhere…makes me want to be a better man. someone worthy of you." hyunjin sighed, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. "it kills me when you say nobody loves you yn, because i love you!" he spoke passionately, his eyes opening, hands coming up to let his thumbs wipe away some of yn‘s new tears at hyunjin‘s unbridled love.

"i have loved you every day since i met you. and i plan to love you every day more, if you will so let me." hyunjin‘s voice softened as he pressed his forehead against yn‘s.

"you…you love me?" yn sniffled, a flicker of hope awakening inside of her.

hyunjin nodded against yn.

"then prove it," yn teased, wanting to see just how far this love of hyunjin‘s went.

with a lick of his lips and a clear understanding of his best friend‘s message, hyunjin leaned in, staying still for a sliver of a moment just in case yn wanted to pull away. when her eyes fluttered shut and her hands rested on his forearms, hyunjin finally closed the gap between the pair, capturing yn‘s plump lips in a searing, love-filled kiss. as their lips danced together, hyunjin poured every ounce of longing and pure infatuation he‘s felt for yn since they were little. seeking entrance, hyunjin‘s tongue licked along yn‘s full bottom lip, granting him the access he so needed to fully prove to yn he means every word he‘s said.

his large hand trailed up yn‘s body, coming to rest on the small of her back to pull the girl flush against him. her soft curves and supple skin contradicted the hard planes of hyunjin‘s body so so well as she pressed up against him, allowing her hands to travel from his forearms to his buzzcut, allowing her fingers to splay across the floor of blonde hair atop his head.

their tongues melted together in a rhythm crafted by pent up feelings and unspoken words that no longer needed to escape their lips, because this kiss spoke all.

reluctantly pulling away, hyunjin ran his thick thumb over yn‘s wet bottom lip, reveling in the way their heavy breaths synced.

"do you need more proof, love?" hyunjin breathily spoke, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. with a nod, yn crashed her lips against hyunjin’s once more, this kiss much more demanding and lustful in nature.

finally moving, hyunjin backed yn against the couch, his hands coming up to the tantalizing curves of her ass to lay her down in contrast to his aggressive mouth work.

hovering over yn without breaking the soul tying kiss between them both, hyunjin‘s calloused hands roamed every curve and valley of yn‘s frame, feeling every inch of her soft skin both covered by the barrier of clothing and exposed.

when time came to finally pull away, hyunjin planted small kisses all over yn‘s blushing face, his lust falling back into his state of affection.

"believe me now, baby?" hyunjin playfully asked.

yn smiled bashfully. "yeah…"

[empresskylo]

cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?

i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.

Ghost

♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.

♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"

♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you’re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.

♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.

♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers. “mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.

Price

♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.

♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.

♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!” “what did you just call me?” You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“ He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint. “No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.

♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…

♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.

♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.

♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.

Alejandro

♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.

♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“ “Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.

♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.

♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.

♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”

[cherie-doll]

Cherie luveeee. Wish you good and healthy, beautiful.

I got someting.

You know those retired dog officers that have been trained for jungkies and bombs?? We adopt them while cod characters are away for deployments, because we're lonely and literal scary dog privileges hehe.

And when they're home, our dog gets alert and quite relentless by the smells until we pay the good officer jerky and 2 ice cubes.

It's messy, but hope you understand what I mean.

Dw i see your vision and tried to execute it

⪩⪨ price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, makarov, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto

No cuz imagine missing that security, yearning for those big strong muscle arms wrapping around you and engulfing your body in theirs >.<

BuT, you’re alone at home, that emptiness roaming the halls and dark rooms as the orange glow of the afternoon sun seeps through the blinds and the most awful melancholy hits you. You grab your keys and go out for a drive not being able to stand the loneliness anymore.

You’re driving around downtown and spot a shelter, you saw a poster on the glass display for cats. Only to walk in and be told that they’ve all been adopted, you’re ready to walk out until a yelp can be heard from one of the kennels and see a German shepherd watching you with his big brown eyes, head laying on his paws. Your heart squeezes and it’s as if you’re made for one another. Without another thought you ask for it and after a few moments you’re walking out with your new companion.

You spend the next couple of weeks bonding with the dog, taking him out on walks and sleeping peacefully on your bed despite your military bf/husband gone because you know the canine sleeping on the bedroom floor will protect you. You even go out a little more often than you would when they're on deployment because you've got your guard dog scaring away those with wrong intentions but is secretly a sweetheart within.

And it isn't until your partner comes back, late at night, that your dog raises his head, ears attentive and listening to the footsteps of heavy boots probably leaving dirt all over the clean entrance hallway and making their way up the stairs to the bedroom. He can sense a strange new smell, much stronger than your subtle scent. The overpowering new scent awakens his instincts and he's at the door in an instant growling and waking you up.

Much to the confusion and frustration of the dog, you're not as wary as you should be. You freely open the door and welcome the soldier who's been away for too long into your arms.

Price would be too engulfed in your embrace to notice the dog growling lowly at him. It would only be when he leans down to put away his shoes and place the duffle bag slung over his shoulder that he'd come face to face with the dog's snout sniffing him over. He'd ask where you got it from and once the dog realized there is no threat they'd get used to each other quickly.

Simon wouldn't appreciate the hair the dog has left on the side of the bed that's usually his. But he commends you for being smart and getting a dog, and not just any fluffy golden retriever, no you got a dog breed he can trust will use the best of their instincts to take care of you. He'll be at ease knowing he's not leaving you alone anymore.

Johnny would have a close call getting bitten by the doggo. Maybe warn him, yeah? But he's all over the dog, petting it, asking what's his name. And he most likely wouldn't get much sleep despite arriving late home. The dog is all excited about a new person in the house and be all over him.

Kyle tries his darn best to earn that dog's trust and convince them he's not a threat. It's not that the dog smells bad intentions from him, he just doesn't like the proximity between the both of you. Noses in between you both while you're giving Kyle a kiss on the lips. After a few treats, he got the dog to calm down and sit at the far end of the room, keeping an eye just in case lol.

Gary loves dogs and tbh he thinks this was a surprise you had planned for him. The dog can't even do his regular routine of sniffing the person because Gary is hugging him, petting and scratching behind the dog's ears. The dog loves the attention though and quickly warms up to him.

Alejandro would get a good scare at this big dog standing in the doorway watching him. Would curse loud enough his mother could surely hear from her grave and rise to throw a chancla at him. He's tired, has had a long drive and in his usual good mood would dote on the dog but not when he's on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. Doesn't even say anything much after that and just grabs you, collapses into bed with you in his arms and falls asleep.

Rudy's first thought is that a stray dog got in and would be concerned for your safety but then sees the collar around the dog's neck and know right away he's part of the family now. And no matter how tired he is, Rudy would still sit there and with the dog resting on his lap, would ask you how you got him, where, what's his name, how you've been feeling after adopting him, etc.

Phillip doesn't pay mind to the dog, even if its growling at him and even baring teeth. Plenty of people do that to him at work, he's used to it. Man has two things in his mind since pulling into the driveway; you and rest. He takes a quick shower, doesn't even bother putting actual clothes on and just falling asleep in a towel wrapped around his waist. The dog just standing next to the bed at Phillip's side, smelling his face curiously.

Makarov isn't surprised to be greeted by dogs at the door because he's probably already owned a few big dogs but they're usually kept outside. Kicks his shoes off, which distract the snarling dog who goes after his shoes only seeing a new toy. He goes right over and starts getting ready to sleep until he turns to face your side confused to see the dog in between the both of you with his shoe in his mouth.

Keegan couldn't care less, he has no thoughts at the moment. His eyes barely register the dog who won't stop thrusting his nose into his face when he leans down to pull off his boots and socks. He just grumbles something and pushes the dog away who follows after him. He kisses you goodnight or hello, he doesn't know anymore, gives the dog a pat on the head and drifts off to sleep.

König the type to just stand there staring at the dog who stares right back at him. Surely, with how sleep deprived he is he must think it's an hallucination or maybe he's asleep and already dreaming. Reaches out, letting the dog sniff his hand and when he feels the warm breath from the dog's nostrils tickle his hand he simply nods approvingly. He'll make friends with the dog tomorrow.

Horangi would probably set off all of the dog's danger sensors because of his nature of doing things. Like he gets home, slams the door shut, his heavy footsteps making their way to you, throwing his duffle bag on the floor and tackling you (lovingly ofc duh) would make the dog think you're getting attacked.

Nikto would start asking you all sorts of question, interrogating you almost. Asking where the wolf came from, why did you get it, did you not feel safe to wait until he came back? He's asking more because he's genuinely concerned and wants to know if something specific happened that made you feel like you needed a dog as big as the one currently stuffing his nose into the pockets of his jacket.

[gothghostiie]

telling cod characters "use your words"

pt 2 of this (141)

characters: Alejandro, Rodolfo, Valeria, Graves, König, Nikto

cw: dom!reader, brat!reader, slapping, bondage/gagging, manhandling, edging/denial, switch!rudy, hints of loser!könig maybe, gn!reader

Alejandro straight up laughs at you when you tell him to use his words. stops his hand when you take a hold of him, stares at you for about 5 seconds before breaking into laughter, grabbing your face and squishing your cheeks together gently. "you think you can tell me what to do, mi amor? you're fucking adorable." before you can even think to answer you get pinned to the bed; he'll make sure you won't be saying any words when he's done with you later.

Rodolfo depends on his mood. if he's feeling more dominant he chuckles, kissing to your ear while his hand trails between your legs, whispering every detail of what he want to do to you. if hes feeling more subby tho, he looks up from where he was kissing, cheeks hot as he stammers a bit. "por favor.. solo déjame hacerte sentir bien.." he pleads softly, a soft whine escaping his lips when you pull him up by his hair, eyes lidded and pleading while his fingers dig into your soft skin,

valeria? dont even fucking try. she doesnt take kindly to brats (even though she loves breaking them). her fingers caress your thigh higher until you stop her, telling her to use her words. she stops in her tracks, that look in her eyes that you know too well. "say that again pequeño.." she hums lowly, if you actually do? before the last word even leaves your mouth you have her hand leave a burning sting on your cheek. "again?"

Graves is a bastard. he tries to get frisky with you, but you stop him and tell him to use his words. he stares before chuckling. "let me show you, yea?" soon enough you find yourself tied up, ball gag in your mouth and his hands and lips all over your sex. he's working relentlessly, abusing all of your good spots until you almost cum - then stopping. you buck and whine, he grins. "what, you want something? use your words, baby." you try to babble against the gag, but the cocky smile on his face tells you that you're in for a long night.

König gets absolutely flustered when you tell him to use his words. "what?" he fumbles and blinks, you chuckle at his embarrassment from being put on the spot like that. gets frustrated at his inability to do it, to talk dirty to you, your laughing making it worse even if it's without malice. eyes darken a bit when he decides to just take what he wants, pinning you down and bullying his cock into your poor hole until you apologise :[

Nikto doesn't make a move like that on you often, he usually outright asks if he wants something from you. but when he does, you decide to be a little bratty, grinning up at him as you tell him to use his words, putting a hand on his chest to push him off slight. he stares you down, expression unreadable before he finally reacts. grabs your jaw in a tight but gentle grip, leaning in close, all while keeping eye contact. "don't fuck around, pretty. you might hear things you don't want to."

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; after a tense confrontation with laswell, you find comfort and support in alejandro and rudy. but just as you're beginning to regain your footing, an unexpected call pulls you back into the fray.

⚠️ warnings; slightly graphic content, body horror

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

Entering through the back door, you find Laswell already settled in the quiet of the bar, humming softly to a tune playing low over the speakers. She’s at ease, arranging bottles and tallying inventory, a steaming cup of tea beside her. The smell of fresh herbs mingles with the earthy scent of aged wood, creating a warmth that would normally be comforting. But today, it feels stifling. It’s strange to see her so relaxed, not even glancing up as you approach.

Finally, she looks up, her face softening with a small but welcoming smile. “Early morning for you too, I see,” she says, taking a sip of tea. “Couldn’t sleep, I take it?”

“Not quite,” you manage, biting back the surge of emotions. You clear your throat, shifting your weight, the ache in your injured ankle sharp and relentless, yet she seemed oblivious to your state.

“Is everything alright?” she asks, her tone too polite, too casual. “I was just going over inventory—didn’t expect any company.”

The sheer calmness in her voice, the way she doesn’t mention last night's missed call or notice the obvious signs of wear and urgency, makes your stomach churn with a dawning realization.

“Laswell, I’m here because something’s wrong. Deeply wrong,” you begin, pushing down the frustration building inside. “I have confirmed it—here, look,” you take out the nail and unwrap it, carefully keeping the cloth between it and your skin.

She barely glances at it, lifting her cup again. “It’s just a nail,” she says, a hint of bemusement in her tone. “Really, you’re letting your mind run away with whatever this is.”

You feel your chest tighten as you feel your face flush with a mix of indignation and flaring anger. "Laswell, I found this embedded in my floor—right where Ghost scratched it, again and again, after he attacked us. He nearly tore the place apart, and Sybil… she was badly hurt. Whatever this is, it's powerful. It's gotten into him, into all of them!"

You’re practically pleading now, voice rising, words tumbling over each other in near hysteria. "S-someone is using Leah as a conduit. It’s a manipulation curse, this isn't some baseless paranoia—it's real, and it's tearing us apart from the inside out!"

Still, she doesn’t respond with the urgency you need. Instead, she watches you with that frustratingly calm demeanour.

Laswell sighs, setting her cup down as though indulging you. “You’ve always been dramatic, but this is getting excessive. Think about it: a nail?” She offers a patronising half-smile. “It’s unlike you, letting yourself be so easily swept away.”

Her words are like a slap. You feel the fury finally bubbling over, mixed with disbelief. “I’m not imagining things. I need you to see it for what it is—”

But she only raises her hand, dismissing you with a calm indifference. “Enough, really. There’s no curse here, no manipulative power. Just a town, a pack, and emotions running high. Take a few days, step back, and you’ll see it, too.”

Your hands tremble as you clutch the cursed nail. The way she brushes off your concerns, the lack of urgency despite everything you’ve told her—it’s too much to bear. Without another word, you turn on your heel, seething, but not before leaving him with some scalding last words.

“This town, these people—you’re supposed to protect them,” you say, your voice sharp and bitter. “What good is all that power if you’re blind to everything that’s rotting under your own roof?” The words hang in the air, and before she can respond, you storm out, the cursed nail still in your grip, its weight like a reminder of everything gone wrong.

. . .

Outside, the cold air hits you, but it does nothing to cool your anger. Just as you take a shaky breath, a car pulls up with a shrill just a few steps ahead, and your heart jumps. Then, you spot Alejandro and Rudy inside, their expressions shadowed with something. Instinct flares, and you stiffen, suspicious and guarded. You take a step back, but Alejandro calls out to you.

“Preciosa (Precious/Darling) get in,” Alejandro urges, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. “We need to talk.”

You hesitate by the curb, your instincts still buzzing from your one-sided confrontation with Laswell. Alejandro’s face is unreadable, but Rudy leans over from the passenger seat, his eyes searching yours with concern.

“We know about the attack,” he says, his tone low, though you sense his anger just beneath the surface. “Alejandro and I found Ghost earlier today. He was…covered in blood. Your blood.”

After a breathless pause, you nod and climb into the back seat. The door shuts with a thump, and Alejandro swiftly pulls away from the curb, guiding the car back into the street. 

“We saw the state of your place. And also we found Sybil.” Alejandro's gaze meets yours through the rearview mirror, his usual hard expression softening. “She told me everything.”

A wave of relief washes over you. They know—they understand. You’re no longer alone in this nightmare, and the realisation loosens something inside you. The strength you’d clung to so desperately wavers, and for a moment, you almost break.

“I see,” you manage, voice thick with the strain of it all.

Rudy reaches over from the driver’s seat, his brow furrowing as he gives you a careful once-over, spotting your wrapped ankle right away. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks quietly, reaching out to lift your wrist and gently turn your arm, checking for bruises or scrapes that might’ve been missed. His fingers hover over your shoulder, where you wince, and he draws his hand back slightly, though his concern is palpable.

Alejandro peeks at you from over his shoulder. “You look like you haven’t slept in days,” he says before looking back at the road, voice steady but laced with concern. “Let's just head back to your shop. We’ll talk there.”

His words are firm, leaving no room for argument. Beside him, Rudy nods, his hand still resting on yours as if grounding you. “You’re not doing this alone,” he adds, gentle but insistent.

Seeing them both so attuned to the toll this has taken on you, the comfort of their presence chips away at the wall you’ve held up, giving you space to breathe—if only for a moment.

The drive back  is spent in tense conversation as you bring them up to speed, laying out everything—the cursed nail, Leah’s manipulation, and your suspicions about the pack’s infection. Rudy listens intently from the passenger seat, brows drawn with a mix of disbelief and concern. Alejandro nods along, his jaw tight, gripping the steering wheel as you delve into the twisted details.

When you arrive at the shop, they immediately set to work. Alejandro rolls up his sleeves and begins putting everything Ghost toppled back into place, lifting shelves and setting furniture upright. Meanwhile, Rudy moves closer to inspect your injuries. Despite your insistence that they’re fine, he gently checks over your bandages, his expression softened with a mix of care and worry.

Alejandro pauses, dusting his hands off. “We shouldn’t stay for too long,” he says, voice low, as if half-worried the town itself might hear. “If the pack’s fallen under whatever's hanging over Leah’s, then it’s only a matter of time before it tries to spread. Whatever’s protecting us might not hold up if we stay around.”

A lump forms in your throat at the thought of being left alone again, but he doesn’t give you time to dwell on it. “Look, we can help in one more way,” he adds. “Let us take that nail, and we’ll get it checked out. We know people—ones who are good at tracking this sort of thing.”

You hesitate for a moment but know he’s right. Their network is solid, and they might be your best shot at uncovering the root of this twisted curse. Finally, you nod.

Rudy and Alejandro then continue to finish helping to restore some semblance of order to the wrecked shop. Only when the last of the glass is swept away and the floor looks almost recognizable do they finally step back, taking a moment to exchange glances. They’re still worried, you can tell, but the relief in their eyes says they can see you’re calmer now—more prepared to handle what’s to come.

Alejandro puts a hand on your shoulder, swiping some hair away from your face, his voice steady. “Remember, we’re a call away. And say goodbye to Sybil for us, yeah?”

Rudy nods, adding, “Yeah, tell her to stay safe. Both of you.”

You give them both a small smile, touched by their concern. They head for the door, casting one last, reassuring look over their shoulders. “Buena suerte, (Good luck)” Alejandro says as they finally step outside. “You’ll figure this out, and if you need us, we’re only a call away.”

As the door clicks shut behind them, the silence settles around you, leaving only the lingering comfort of their support. You turn back to the remnants of your shop, now tidier and slightly more familiar. But there’s no mistaking the weight still hanging in the air, pressing you forward.

. . .

Later that day, you’re carefully tending to Sybil. Between gentle touches, you juggle phone calls to regular shoppers, letting them know their orders will be delayed, and texting to suppliers, asking them to hold off until next week.

"Yes, Mrs. Eldridge, I understand the urgency. I’ll have the tonic for you as soon as possible. A few more days, thank you so much for your patience."

“Can you give me just a few more days? I’m handling some unforeseen… complications.”

The anxiety gnaws at you, a creeping feeling that your business teeters on a precarious edge. You remind yourself, almost like a mantra, that you have some savings—it’s enough to keep things afloat, for a time. But only if matters resolve quickly.

Returning your attention to Sybil, you feel the weight of it all settle onto your shoulders, heavier than you care to admit. You reach out, pressing a soft kiss to her snoot. “We’ll make it through, love. One way or another, we’ll figure this out.”

You settle on the floor, back pressed against the edge of your bed where Sybil is resting, her breathing calm but shallow. Your contact book lies open across your lap, and your phone is balanced precariously on your knee as you scroll through names and numbers, ticking off the people you’ve already called. Each tick brings a sense of relief, a small semblance of control in the storm that has upturned your life. You pause, taking a moment to rub your temples, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in your bones.

As you prepare to make another call, the sudden shrill ring of your phone pierces the quiet. The sound jolts you, and your grip tightens reflexively. Glancing down at the screen, your heart flounders and tightens painfully. Price. His name flashes across the screen, dread washing over you—why call now?

You nearly don’t answer. But your thumb hovers, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press accept and bring the phone to your ear.

“….Hello?”

His voice comes instantly through, raw and laced with an edge you’ve never heard before. “It’s Leah,” he says, words tumbling over each other. “She’s burning up, sick as hell, and nothing’s working. We can’t get the fever down. We’ve tried everything.”

“And so you called me?” you say, voice hardening against the anger rising in your chest. “After everything, you think I’m the one to fix this?”

He’s silent for a beat, then quietly, “Yes.” He doesn’t try to justify it, and the simple honesty in his answer makes you hesitate, grounding the anger you wanted to unleash. This wasn’t just a request—this was desperation.

“Start from the beginning,” you say, voice tight but steady. “Tell me every detail of her symptoms, when they started, how they’ve progressed—don’t leave anything out.”

Price’s voice, strained but controlled, begins to unravel the story: Leah had seemed fine until a few nights ago, just tired, but by morning, the fever had set in—high, unrelenting, and resistant to everything they’d tried. She’s grown weaker by the hour, barely coherent. His descriptions blur into each other, desperation breaking through his calm as he shares every attempt they’ve made, every remedy that’s failed.

As he speaks, you descend the stairs into your shop, eyes scanning over the remnants of what’s left. Some vials remain intact, and you sift through them, gathering anything that might help—the fever reducers, the cleansing tonics, a few precious herbs that hadn’t been shattered in the chaos.

“Alright,” you say when he’s finished, stuffing the gathered supplies into your bag with a steady hand. “I’ll bring what I can and get there as soon as possible. Just… keep her comfortable, and don’t try anything else. I’ll be there soon.”

You go back up to find Sybil with her head raised, her large eyes full of a quiet, unwavering insistence. She’s done laying around; every inch of her posture says as much. She huffs, as if to say, If you’re going, so am I. You hesitate, feeling the weight of her stare—knowing she’s right. If whatever is behind this catches you apart, it’ll only make things worse.

Sighing, you brush a hand over her snout and murmur, “Alright, girl, you win.” Carefully and balancing your bag on one shoulder, you lift her and move her into the truck, arranging some blankets you keep in your trunk to make her as comfortable as possible. Sybil settles there, eyes sharp and ready as you get a move on.

When you reach the house and park your truck, you dig into your bag and pull out a small bundle of sage, binding it to the rearview mirror with a careful knot. Whispering a few words over it, you weave a protective spell that should shield Sybil from harm while alerting you if anything—or anyone—tries to break into the truck.

You lean over the seat and give her a gentle kiss on her head, murmuring, “Stay safe, girl. I’ll be back soon.” She watches you leave, calm but alert.

As you walk up the driveway, memories drift up. The last time you were here, Leah had answered the door, her face bright despite the chaos inside. Now, as you step up to the door, the silence presses down like a heavy weight.

No one comes to greet you. The door creaks open with a single push, echoing down the empty hall as you slip inside, clutching your bag of supplies. The moment you step further into the threshold, the stench hits you—a sickly blend of decay and stale air. Instinctively, you raise a hand to cover your nose, eyes narrowing as you take in the disarray around you.

The entryway is a wasteland of discarded belongings, papers scattered and kicked to the sides, dusty furniture slumped as though forgotten. You feel the hairs on your neck prickle—Price would never leave things like this. And as for Gaz…his wards are gone, their faint warmth and hum that once guarded the house is now absent.

You continue forward, each step creaks underfoot, the house itself feeling more hollow, like it’s been emptied of any life it once held. Climbing the stairs, the stench only worsens. Passing door after door, you scan each room until, finally, near the far end of the hall, you find him.

Price sits on the floor, back against the wall, head in his hands. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t even flinch as you approach. His clothes rumpled, stained, his usual military crispness replaced by a weary, slumped figure.

“John?” you call softly, your voice barely a whisper.

He lifts his head, and the exhaustion in his eyes is like a punch to the gut. His beard is wild and unkempt, deep lines crease his face, shadows under his eyes dark and hollow. He looks up at you as if he’s only half-awake, half-alive, struggling to register that someone else is even there.

“It’s…you,” he mumbles, a hint of relief breaking through the fog in his eyes. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

His words are tinged with something raw, almost pleading, and you tighten your grip on your bag. “Of course I came. I tried to reach you all, and you didn’t—” you bite back the accusation, the fear twisting into frustration. “…what the hell happened here?”

Price’s gaze flickers away, his shoulders slumping further. He rubs a hand over his face, trying to muster some semblance of composure, but it crumbles almost immediately. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly, voice hoarse. “Things just…fell apart.”

His words are weak and lacklustre. You want to lash out, unleash the anger and frustration that's been building since you first walked through the door—the endless, ignored messages, the silence, the sheer neglect they've let fester. You want to scream at him for allowing things to come to this. 

But reality hangs heavy in the air. No amount of shouting will help undo things. 

“Where's everyone else?” you ask, trying to mask your anxiety.

“Gaz is inside with Leah,” he replies, his voice taut with worry. “Ghost… he’s locked himself away in the far wing of the house. We’ve set up protective spells on the door to keep him contained. And Soap—he’s somewhere in the forest, too feral to be around right now.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, and square your shoulders. With Ghost gone for now....you feel a little safer. “Show me to Leah,” you say, voice steady. “We can talk about everything else later.”

He stands up and guides you into the room, which is Inside is clean, organised, and untouched by the decay and disorder in the rest of the house. Just as you step inside, Gaz appears, his gaze catching yours with a flash of shock. “You…you came.” His voice is hoarse, filled with a mix of disbelief and hope.

But you cut him off with a look. “I’ll talk to both of you once I’ve seen Leah.” You push past him, heart pounding as you approach the bed.

Leah lies there motionless, her skin pale and almost translucent, sweat dampening her hair as she struggles to breathe. She’s a shadow of the person you remember, her body frail, almost brittle-looking. You press your hand to her forehead, feeling the unnatural heat radiating off her. 

Setting up on the nightstand, you start with a fresh egg and an empty cup. “I need to check for any curses or malign influences,” you explain to Price and Gaz, who hover close, concern etched on their faces. You position the egg over Leah, your breath catching as you begin to run it gently over her body. 

As you pass the egg over her chest, it feels heavy in your hand, and you take note of that at the back of your thoughts. When you finally pull it away and break it over the cup, you grimace at what comes out: the contents are putrid, blackened and oozing a foul-smelling substance. 

“Damn it,” you curse under your breath, your heart racing as the implications sink in. “This is worse than I thought.”

Panic flares in Price’s eyes, and Gaz leans in closer, both of them wanting to understand, to help. “What does it mean?” Price asks, his voice tense with fear.

“Out!” you shout, frustration boiling over. “Both of you, out! I can’t think with you hovering like that!” The urgency in your voice surprises even you, but they back off reluctantly, exchanging glances that communicate their worry.

Once the door closes behind them, the air feels a bit lighter, and you let out a shaky breath. You pull the covers off Leah, apologising under your breath. “I’m sorry, Leah. I need to do this.” Gently, you start to examine her body, careful and methodical. You can’t shake the guilt of not getting her consent first, but you know this is necessary.

You search her body meticulously, hoping to find any physical signs of injury or affliction. But as you scan her limbs, you find nothing—no cuts, no bruises. Just skin that feels too hot, a pulse that’s weak and fluttering. Anxiety gnaws at you; if there’s nothing physical, then what is causing this?

With no other options left, you resort to the looking glass spell—one you keep at the back of your mind and rarely use. You quickly step out, and catch Gaz’s attention with a quiet call of his name. John is nowhere to be seen.

He steps forward immediately, brows knitted in concern. “What is it?”

You hesitate only a moment before asking, “Could you bring me a bowl of warm water? And some soap—any kind, just… something that’ll make enough bubbles.”

Gaz’s expression flickers with curiosity and a bit of worry, but he nods. “Sure thing. Won’t take a minute.” He disappears down the hall and into the kitchen.

Within moments, he’s back, handing you a small basin filled with steaming water and a bottle of liquid soap. “Anything else?”

You shake your head, barely sparing him a glance back. “No, I’ve got it from here.”

He glances at Leah, and with a brief nod backs away, closing the door softly behind him.

You shake your head in dismay, before squeezing a healthy amount of soap into bowl and dipping your hands in, the heat soothing against your chilled fingers. You rub your palms until a layer of bubbles forms, the light, pearlescent film floating just above the surface. Steadying yourself, you shape your hands into a ring, forming a delicate, translucent ‘looking glass’ with your thumb and index finger.

You take a deep breath, focusing your energy, letting it flow from your fingertips into the circle as you gaze through it. The room dims, the world beyond your fingers blurring, until the scene sharpens again, revealing the inside of Leah’s chest.

Inside, her heart pulses faintly, its rhythm disturbingly slow, a faint and fragile beat. Wrapped tightly around it is a writhing, segmented parasite—long and winding, like some twisted centipede. It coils and constricts, pulsating in time with her heartbeat as though feeding off her very life force.

A sickening wave of horror hits you, and you gasp, the bubble popping and breaking the spell. This is forbidden magic—and worse of all, vampiric in nature. Your hands shake, and you clutch them tightly to your chest, fighting the urge to look away from her still form on the bed.

It’s one thing to read about such creatures in dusty old texts, where they’re distant, almost mythological threats. But to see it here, wrapped around Leah’s heart, consuming her from within…!

You’d need something far beyond the usual tools to dislodge it. The necessary charms, wards, and talismans to attempt such a removal aren’t here in your humble kit, and even if they were… you’re not sure you’d be able to muster the energy needed. Not now. Not after everything.

Your thoughts immediately freeze, instantly conjuring the one person who could help—a name surfacing like an unwanted ghost in your mind. The thought of her makes your skin prickle, a reflexive dread settling deep in your gut.

Unlike before, you wouldn't be calling for a friend. No, far from it.

You glance at your discarded phone, wet fingers hovering just over the screen. To ask for her help would mean facing scrutiny, judgement—the cold, familiar sting of disappointment. Worst of all, the quiet, unspoken proof of what you already fear: that you were never strong enough on your own.

But right now, there’s no time to weigh the consequences. And so, you dial a number, that even thought you had long deleted from your contacts, you still know by heart.

The line rings, each tone echoing your mounting anxiety, and when it finally clicks, silence stretches between you and the other end. You know she’s there—she’s just waiting for you to speak, to ask for what you need.

You squirm, shifting your weight as you muster the courage to break the tension. After what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to speak, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“Mother,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, strained with urgency. “I need your help.”

banner credit

[fight-for-what-you-love]

♪ Worldwide - Big Time Rush

I'm gonna be honest- these episodes kind of fell apart while I was making this. The more I re-wrote the story for it's second draft the less this version made sense and the less interested I was to work on it. I have not much else to say except sorry this part is kinda iffy and sorry it took so long. I promise you I'll make up for this in the next episode I PROMISE

Notes on both episodes under the cut!

Sweden Sour

* (I think it’d be really funny if Cody just doesn’t talk at all this episode. Not a word. Just nods and head shakes and depressed faces.)

* Cody’s incredibly depressed after Noah’s elimination. Sierra’s over the moon, though. She sees Cody depressed and gives him a tight side hug, petting his head. She tries consoling him with “I know you’re sad, but it’s ok! At least I’m still here~.” Cody starts sobbing, head in hands. Heather is sick of this already.

* The teams get their “ibuilda” pieces and the Amazons argue on what it’s supposed to be. Cody stares at the pieces for a few seconds before the light briefly re enters his eyes. He starts building. Courtney tells him to stop but Heather tells her he’s obviously got it, so let him work. They start helping him build… something.

* Once the Amazons are done, Heather, Sierra and Courtney take a step back to see what they’ve built. It’s a giant wooden Noah head. Their faces drop. Heather is filled with murderous rage.

* We built Noah’s face (We’re gonna take first place) Cause we built Noah’s faaaace

* Tyler’s jumper would be white.

* Cody doesn’t sing in this number. Chris notices and stares at him threateningly. He reluctantly hums the chorus and Chris takes what he can get.

* (Alejandro takes off his shirt to pull the boat like a freak. Duncan is unfazed and Tyler will deny it if you ask him if he blushed.)

* Sierra hits Noah’s Head hard enough it falls over on its side and suggests sawing off the side to ride in him like a boat. Heather and Courtney agree to this. Cody has no comment.

* Duncan and Alejandro don't bother bending over backwards to please Tyler. Duncan makes himself captain and no one argues.

* When the Amazons go to pick a captain, Courtney grabs the hat and declares herself captain without input. Heather tries to argue but Courtney argues back- Cody is in no condition, no one trusts Sierra and Heather took control the last challenge so this time she’s in charge. Heather reluctantly backs down.

* Amazons catch up to team Chris in the water. Alejandro sees them approach and makes note of Cody’s face, making fun of him for being so upset about “the Noah thing”. Cody furrows his eyebrows and points furiously at Chris’s boat. Courtney agrees that yes, they should shoot their boat.

* It doesn’t matter who wins the challenge since it’s a non elimination round, but I want to say the Amazons persevere. The massage helps Cody enough that he’s not stone faced next episode at least.

Aftermath III (Aftermath Aftermayhem)

* Gwen, Owen and Noah are introduced together. Gwen walks out first and Owen, hugging Noah to the point of lifting him off the ground, walks behind her.

* Geoff asks what all that’s about and Gwen responds that Owen refused to let him go until Noah “understood just how sorry he was”. Noah insists he forgives him, but Owen still won’t let him go.

* The Owen square is replaced by the Tyler square. The prompt is survive. (The hosts throw a bunch of debris at the contestant for thirty seconds and if they dodge everything they move on.)

* (For brevity’s sake, assume all of the contestants that participated in the board game in the original episode participated here [with the exception of Tyler, who is replaced with Owen]. They all get eliminated the same way as well, Noah getting got by aliens, Owen falling down the booby trap square and Beth making it to the final question.)

* When Beth gets stumped on the last question (What was Duncan's band called) Noah yells at her, frustrated: “Oh my- It’s Der Schnitzel Kickers, Beth!!” Confetti and balloons fall from the ceiling.

* (He knows this because Cody had mentioned it in a conversation after the London challenge.)

* Noah initially complains about winning the game, but Owen reminds him that he gets to see Cody again and he shuts up immediately.

* “Noah wins!” “Wasn’t he disquali-” “NOAH WINS!! Let’s wrap it up. We’re done here.”

[vicolette]

𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 !

– Warnings : English isn’t my first language, mentions of y/n & pet names, bullying (affectionate), curse words, not proofread

"Are you cold?"

The match against Real Madrid was over with Kounde's dream goal, securing a win for FC Barcelona with a 3:2 score. You, as one of the media interns and a cousin of Hector, had watched it with the staff and your uncle and aunt, actually enjoying your time.

Well, if it wasn’t for the fact that you had quite literally screamed when Lamine appeared and the camera zoomed into your face, laughing in front of millions at how absurd his new hairstyle was. His lovely curls were dead – the ones which you have adored ever since he had first debuted.

Gone.

"Sorry for my reaction." You apologized as you tilted your head, being greeted with the sight of him grinning at you, and his bleached blonde hair. As you slightly scowled and sets till inspected his look, you couldn’t help but smile.

"You little rat." Lamine whispered under his breath, shaking his head as he wrapped his jacket around you and pulled you closer, embracing you into a hug. His arms were caving you within him, but you liked it that way.

Even so, as the stadium slowly started to get empty, the noise of the fans began to fade away, yet you could still hear them. His teammates were probably waiting for him to enter the locker room and join their live, but Lamine didn’t move an inch.

A soft kiss was pressed on your forehead, right after you had placed a hand on his chest to push him away and tell him to go. Lamine should celebrate his win, not stay here with you.

Nonetheless, it was what he wanted as he didn’t let go of you, shaking his head as he frowned when he realized what your intention was. Moments like these were rare, when you could simply breathe and bask into each other’s embrace without feeling pressured.

And yet still, you insisted on him going back to his team, while you would go to the staff and continue doing your work.

"Baby, don’t move…" You could sigh as you leaned your head against his shoulder, looking at him with a gaze that made him stare for a second, before moving his head to hide his blush. "We have time."

As you parted your lips to speak up, to demand him to go back into the locker room instead of standing in the middle of the tunnel, Lamine turned his head around again and stole a kiss. It was annoying to hear you like this, he had thought, yet it didn’t matter if he could have you like this.

Now, whenever you tried to push him away and tell him to go back, Lamine interrupted you with yet another kiss, enjoying the way you looked like in his arms. At some point, he eventually stopped once you also stopped, reluctantly sighing in defeat.

"But I look good, don’t I?" He muttered into your ear, smirking ear to ear as he saw you fondly smile at him. Exhaustion was starting to build up inside of you, especially from all the traveling, yet you merely caressed his hair as you gazed up at him.

"Mhm. Now that I look at you…" His ego was boosted as Lamine raised his arm and showed his muscles, shrugging his shoulders as if he knew that you would say it. In response, you chuckled at his delusion, lightly slapping his chest.

Even through the thin fabric of his shirt, you could hear his heartbeat as you leaned closer. The peace for once didn’t disturb him, at least if it was spent with you. Adrenaline was still in his body as he tried to catch his breath, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. The moment was perfect, until-

"Get a room, lovebirds!" Alejandro yelled out out of nowhere, making you tense up as you turned your head to face him from across the tunnel. Lamine groaned in frustration, pulling you impossibly closer.

"Shut the hell up!" He screamed back, glaring at his friend when he saw more people pass by. Hector took a picture for blackmail, Pau tried to hide his laughter, Ansu rolled his eyes and Pedri stared at you two up and down before shaking his head.

'Kids these days.' He thought, all while Raphinha was laughing his ass off right behind him.

"Don’t mind them, Y/n." You stared back at Lamine as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, hiding your face while he struggled to comfort you from the agony of being tortured.

A sigh of relief escaped from his lips once everyone else was gone, making him lean against the wall with a hand on your lower back and the other on his phone. Flick had told him to come celebrate, but he didn’t want to.

"You tired, meu amor?" The question made you scoff, shaking your head as you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, wondering if he seriously thought that you would sleep after such an intense night. Lamine must have lost his head,

"As if."

"Hey, I was just asking! Who knows?"

– A/N : hear me OUT. (requested by @redbulldoesntgiveyouwings !!)

[lalalychee-x]

Embarrassing turn on —COD x reader

★ Full fic links are available! May or not be released, but they ARE being worked on!! MAN, I HAD A THOUGHT. I HAVE THINKED A THOUGHT so let me share COD MEN (and Valeria my wife)'s EMBARRASSING TURN ONS!... included: Ghost, Soap, Konig, Valeria, Graves, Alejandro CW: SFW & NSFW mix... afab reader due to use of "cunt" but you can read it however you like tbh! tiny implied hint of feeling sleepy, size difference, arguments, use of "sir", mention of "daddy" (not ddlg), COD tumblr needs its own tw tbh,,,

--- ★ GHOST! is a stoic, self-controlled man. He’s seen it all, done it all—until you mumble his name in that half-asleep, dazed little voice.

It happens one night when he gets into bed late. You’re already knocked out, curled up, warm and soft and safe. He tries to move carefully, but his weight shifts the mattress, and you stir—just barely.

"Mmm… Simon…?"

Your voice is husky, slurred with sleep, confused but trusting. And fuck—something about it makes his stomach drop. His breath hitches, body tensing.

You’re not even fully awake. You just blindly reach for him, pressing against him like instinct. He loves it, loves the fact that someone wants and needs him. And suddenly? He’s way too aware of how easy it’d be to pull you closer, bury his face in your neck, feel you melt into him.

Or how easy it would be to pull you over and slide your sweet cunt onto his throbbing cock and—

And that’s when he realizes—he’s bricked up over this. Over your sleepy, vulnerable little voice. Over the fact that you reach for him like he belongs there in that clumsy way like you can't do shit.

Embarrassing? Yeah. Is he gonna admit it? Hell no.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ SOAP! Listen, Soap is an ass man—he loves all of you, of course, but that backside? That’s his favorite view. He'd be the type to rest his hand on your ass while cuddling, whether its innocent or dirty. He would SMACK that! No matter what size you have, he's making it jiggle.

So when you casually gather your hair up into a ponytail? When you pull it up, exposing your neck, stretching just enough to make your back arch? He’s GONE.

God, he's imagining bending you over, trailing his hands down your sides and slipping those pants off you slowly so they drag along your skin.

It doesn’t even have to be sexy. You could be getting ready for a workout, throwing your hair up while talking about something completely unrelated. Just how hard-working you are, how concentrated you look, the sounds of frustration when your hair won't set right. But Soap? He’s biting his lip, eyes locked onto you, internally fighting for his life.

And don’t even get him started on the way a few loose strands fall around your face. Or worse—when you catch him staring and give him a knowing smirk.

Embarrassing? Absolutely. But does he care? Not even a little.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ KONIG! is huge. Literally, he's 6'10 and spans the latitude of a mountain range. Yeah so, he’s down SO BAD for any moment that reminds him how much bigger he is than you.

He originally hated it, enlisting in the military just to make some use of his stature, but when you unintentionally remind him of the size difference? He slowly learned to love it and love himself through you.

But the real killer? When you have to stretch up onto your tiptoes to reach something—especially if he’s standing behind you.

The way you strain, reaching up, your body tilting just slightly, struggling and cursing under your breath? It does something to him. Something primal. Something embarrassing because this man was definitely never taught about his own pleasure.

His hands twitch with the urge to grab you, to lift you up effortlessly like you weigh nothing. Maybe spin you around and admire your shocked little face. His brain is short-circuiting, caught between “help them” and “fuck, that’s adorable.”

Or maybe he's thinking of how lewdly your cunt has to stretch to his size, watching his thick cock stuttering and struggling to fit inside you. The way it sinks in, slow and agonising and how he softly apologises over and over again as he does it...

And if you look at him over your shoulder and ask, “König, can you help me?” in that soft, innocent voice?

Fuck, he doesn't know if he can stop himself.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ VALERIA! is in deep denial about this one.

Valeria loves control. She’s used to people obeying her without question. So when you get a little feisty? When you challenge her, talk back with that teasing lilt in your voice?

She should be annoyed. She should put you in your place.

Instead? Her heart is hammering.

She's conflicted. Half of her wants to size you up to see you tremble in fear, dirty talking at you with passive RAGE until you're wet and apologising just to get fucked.

The other half wants to grab you, tug you down onto her lap and let you shout at her all you want while she bites her lip and nods, watching you as if (and you are) the love of her life.

Because you’re not scared of her. Because you meet her fire with your own. And it's refreshing to know that someone's there to meet her at eye-level, see what she's seeing and talk to her like they have a mind of their own because frankly, everyone she meets is an idiot.

And the worst part? If you smirk after a particularly bold remark, acting all smug? She’s gonna have to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling back.

Infuriating. Humiliating. And hot as hell.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ ALEJANDRO! Listen—this man loves his mother tongue. And hearing it from you? Instant weakness. Hearing it ANGRILY from you? He's finished.

He enjoys it; enjoys and loves the effort you put into learning his language or incorporating it daily because you knew it anyway.

But the real kicker? When you get frustrated and let a curse slip out in Spanish. Especially if it’s because of him.

Imagine: you’re arguing, and suddenly you huff, "¡Por Dios, Alejandro!"

His brain? EMPTY. His pulse? SKYROCKETING. Something clicks and suddenly all his thoughts rush to his cock, getting hard when he should be mad at you. He can't even retort back and he SHOULD be mad, his irritation melting away as his pants tighten. Because he's picturing him holding your legs open, knees right up to your tits and strained curses in Spanish spilling out of your mouth.

Something about the way your voice wraps around his language? The raw emotion behind it? Yeah, he’s done for.

And if you ever say "¡Cállate!" in a teasing, exasperated way?

He’s either kissing you or ruining you on the spot.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ GRAVES! is used to people calling him “sir” in a professional sense. It’s normal. Expected.

But when you say it? Casually? In a teasing, playful, or even just an offhand way? He shouldn't think this, and he should stay professional.

His body locks up. His brain just—shuts down. Because damn, he's a workaholic, takes his work very seriously and when he tangles the love of his life with that? He's going to overheat.

Imagine: You’re joking around, and he hands you something. You smirk and go, “Thanks, sir.”

God, he wants to give you something to really thank him for, right at his desk in his office— to shut that smart mouth of yours with his cock in your mouth even when he knows your smirk wouldn't falter in the slightest...even when you're gagging through it.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenches, and he has to force himself to play it cool. Because if you keep saying that? With that tone?

He’s not responsible for what happens next.

FULL FIC HERE...

[amirawrah]

the drive to forget 🤎🤎🤎

The weight of the match clung to Alejandro’s shoulders like a storm cloud. Barcelona had lost—a tough, frustrating defeat. The entire stadium felt it. The fans, his teammates, the coaching staff. But no one felt it as deeply as him.

Now, as he drove through the quiet streets of Barcelona, his hands gripped the wheel a little too tight, his jaw set in a tense line. The city lights cast fleeting shadows over his face, highlighting the frustration he hadn’t yet put into words.

You didn’t push him to talk. You knew Alejandro. Knew that when losses like this happened, he wasn’t the type to rage or explode—he just retreated into silence. And so, you let him be, reaching across the console to take his free hand in yours.

His grip tightened instantly, fingers threading through yours like he needed something—someone—to anchor him.

Soft music played through the speakers, something slow and calming, a stark contrast to the storm raging in his mind. The sound of your steady breathing, the occasional hum of the engine, the warmth of your hand in his—it was enough to let him exhale.

Minutes passed. The road stretched ahead, nearly empty, as he drove toward nowhere in particular. It wasn’t about the destination. It was about the moment, the quiet, the comfort.

Finally, after what felt like forever, his voice broke the silence. It was quiet, barely more than a whisper.

"You know i don’t care about the game as long as you're here"

Your heart clenched at the quiet vulnerability in his words.

Turning your head, you took in the way his jaw had relaxed slightly, the way his thumb now traced lazy circles against the back of your hand. His frustration was still there, lingering beneath the surface, but he was letting go, piece by piece.

“I know, baby,” you murmured softly, squeezing his hand.

He let out a slow breath, as if those simple words had loosened the knot in his chest just a little more.

A few more turns and he finally pulled into the parking garage beneath your apartment building. The engine hummed softly before he shut it off, and in the quiet stillness that followed, he didn’t move. He just sat there, staring straight ahead, still holding your hand.

You waited.

After a moment, he ran a hand through his curls, sighing deeply. “I should’ve done better.”

You turned in your seat to face him, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “You did your best baby. That’s all you can do.”

He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “My best wasn’t enough tonight.”

Your heart ached for him. You knew how much he put into every match, how much he carried on his shoulders. You unbuckled your seatbelt and shifted closer, reaching out to cup his face. His skin was warm under your touch, his stubble rough against your palm.

“It’s just one game,” you reminded him softly. “One loss doesn’t define you.”

He closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into your palm, exhaling like the last bit of tension was finally leaving his body.

“You always know what to say,” he murmured, voice softer now.

You smiled. “ Of course, i know you.”

He opened his eyes then, and there was something different in them now—something softer, something darker.

Without another word, he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned fully toward you, pulling you into his lap with ease. You gasped at the sudden movement, but you didn’t resist, wrapping your arms around his neck as he buried his face into your shoulder.

"Stay like this for a little?" he mumbled against your skin.

Your fingers slipped into his curls, massaging his scalp as you pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “For as long as you need.”

His arms tightened around your waist, his hands warm against the small of your back. You felt the slow, controlled breaths he was taking, as if trying to steady himself. But then his lips brushed against your collarbone—soft, warm, lingering.

Slowly, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes had darkened, frustration melting into something else—something needy.

"I need you." His voice was rough, low, filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck as you whispered, “ You already have me.”

That was all it took.

Alejandro surged forward, capturing your lips in a deep, desperate kiss. His hands roamed your back, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he could disappear into you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent warmth pooling low in your stomach.

Your fingers tugged at his curls, and he groaned into your mouth, his grip on your waist tightening. His hands slid down, grabbing at your thighs, squeezing, pressing you flush against him.

"Let’s go inside," you panted between kisses, your forehead resting against his.

But Alejandro shook his head, his breath warm against your lips. "Not yet." His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as he whispered, "Right here, mi amor."

Your breath hitched as his lips found your neck, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone, his hands exploring every inch of you. The combination of his warmth, his scent, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—it was overwhelming.

And you didn’t care that you were in the car.

Because tonight, Alejandro didn’t need words. He didn’t need to dwell on the game, the loss, the frustration.

He just needed you.

And you were more than happy to give him everything.