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#Not me wanting to add her to my muse list
lovetique · 1 month
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⤷ 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 , 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞. ft, hanna marin ♡
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"––you can tell a lot about a person by their shoes."
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wiindblume · 10 months
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;-- that seals the deal, im making a zelda blog
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hedgehog-moss · 2 months
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Inspired by your last ask! What are the best French books you’ve read that have no English translation yet? I read Play Boy and Qui a tué mon père (really loved the latter) last year and it feels so fun to read something that other Americans can’t access yet
I'm too nervous to make any list of the Best XYZ Books because I don't want to raise your expectations too high! But okay, here's my No English Translation-themed list of books I've enjoyed in recent years. I tried to make it eclectic in terms of genre as I don't know what you prefer :)
Biographies
• Le dernier inventeur, Héloïse Guay de Bellissen: I just love prehistory and unusual narrators so I enjoyed this one; it's about the kids who discovered the cave of Lascaux, and some of the narration is written from the perspective of the cave <3 I posted a little excerpt here (in English).
• Ces femmes du Grand Siècle, Juliette Benzoni: Just a fun collection of portraits of notable noblewomen during the reign of Louis XIV, I really liked it. For people who like the 17th century. I think it was Emil Cioran who said his favourite historical periods were the Stone Age and the 17th century but tragically the age of salons led to the Reign of Terror and Prehistory led to History.
• La Comtesse Greffulhe, Laure Hillerin: I've mentioned this one before, it's about the fascinating Belle Époque French socialite who was (among other things) the inspiration for Proust's Duchess of Guermantes. I initially picked it up because I will read anything that's even vaguely about Proust but it was also a nice aperçu of the Belle Époque which I didn't know much about.
• Nous les filles, Marie Rouanet: I've also recommended this one before but it's such a sweet little viennoiserie of a book. The author talks about her 1950s childhood in a town in the South of France in the most detailed, colourful, earnest way—she mentions everything, describes all the daft little games children invent like she wants ageless aliens to grasp the concept of human childhood, it's great.
I'll add Trésors d'enfance by Christian SIgnol and La Maison by Madeleine Chapsal which are slightly less great but also sweet short nostalgic books about childhood that I enjoyed.
Fantasy
• Mers mortes, Aurélie Wellenstein: I read this one last year and I found the characters a bit underwhelming / underexplored but I always enjoy SFF books that do interesting things with oceans (like Solaris with its sentient ocean-planet), so I liked the atmosphere here, with the characters trying to navigate a ghost ship in ghost seas...
• Janua Vera, Jean-Philippe Jaworski: Not much to say about it other than they're short stories set in a mediaeval fantasy world and no part of this description is usually my cup of tea, but I really enjoyed this read!
Essays / literary criticism / philosophy
• Eloge du temps perdu, Frank Lanot: I thought this was going to be about idleness, as the title suggests, and I love books about idleness. But it's actually a collection of short essays about (French) literature and some of them made me appreciate new things about authors and books I thought I knew by heart, so I enjoyed it
• Le Pont flottant des rêves, Corinne Atlan: Poetic musings about translation <3 that's all
• Sisyphe est une femme, Geneviève Brisac: Reflections about the works of female writers (Natalia Ginzburg, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Townsend Warner, etc) that systematically made me want to go read the author in question, even when I'd already read & disliked said author. That's how you know it's good literary criticism
Let's add L'Esprit de solitude by Jacqueline Kelen which as the title suggests, ponders the notion of solitude, and Le Roman du monde by Henri Peña-Ruiz which was so lovely to read in terms of literary style I don't even care what it was about (it's philosophy of foundational myths & stories) (probably difficult to read if you're not fully fluent in French though)
Did not fit in the above categories:
• Entre deux mondes by Olivier Norek—it's been translated in half a dozen languages, I was surprised to find no English translation! It's a crime novel and a pretty bleak read on account of the setting (the Calais migrant camp) but I'd recommend it
• Saga, Tonino Benacquista: Also seems to have been translated in a whole bunch of languages but not English? :( I read it ages ago but I remember it as a really fun read. It's a group of loser screenwriters who get hired to write a TV series, their budget is 15 francs and a stale croissant and it's going to air at 4am so they can do whatever they want seeing as no one will watch it. So they start writing this intentionally ridiculous unhinged show, and of course it acquires Devoted Fans
Books that I didn't think existed in English translation but they do! but you can still read them in French if you want
• Scrabble: A Chadian Childhood, Micha��l Ferrier: What it says on the tin! It's a short and well-written account of the author's childhood in Chad just before the civil war. I read it a few days ago and it was a good read, but then again I just love bittersweet stories of childhood
• On the Line, Joseph Ponthus: A short diary-like account of the author's assembly line work in a fish factory. I liked the contrast between the robotic aspect of the job and the poetic nature of the text; how the author used free verse / repetition / scansion to give a very immediate sense of the monotony and rhythm of his work (I don't know if it's good in English)
• The End of Eddy, Edouard Louis: The memoir of a gay man growing up in a poor industrial town in Northern France—pretty brutal but really good
• And There Was Light, Jacques Lusseyran: Yet another memoir sorry, I love people's lives! Jacques Lusseyran lost his sight as a child, and was in the Resistance during WWII despite being blind. It's a great story, both for the historical aspects and for the descriptions of how the author experiences his blindness
• The Adversary: A True Story of Monstrous Deception, Emmanuel Carrère: an account of the Jean-Claude Romand case—a French man who murdered his whole family to avoid being discovered as a fraud, after spending his entire adult life pretending to be a doctor working at the WHO and fooling everyone he knew. Just morbidly fascinating, if you like true crime stuff
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wholoveseggs · 1 month
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Mine
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GIF credit --- > @alwaysandforevergifs
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part Two
Rebekah talks some sense into you and you aim to repair your relationship with Elijah.
♡♡ Thanks for the request sweet @amournoir ♡♡
3.5k words - Warnings: smutttt, oral, riding, slight dom!elijah, Rebekah playing matchmaker, sprinkling of anal & a birthday boy gets his wishes...
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You took a long shower, washing off the sex and party, hoping to scrub your sins away, but it didn't. It only made the marks Klaus left on your body more obvious.
You quickly dried off, throwing your hair into a ponytail and wrapping yourself in a blanket as you walked to the kitchen, not expecting to see Rebekah there, making tea.
"How was your night? I lost you towards the end," she smirked, obviously knowing where you ended up and what you did.
"Oh you know, it was good," you shrugged, grabbing your cereal.
"Good, huh," Rebekah mused, looking over at you.
You shrugged again, your cheeks warming as you refused to make eye contact with her. She giggled knowingly and went to pour the water in her mug, turning her back to you.
"I warned you about Nik," she teased you, and you groaned.
"I know," you huffed, looking down into your cereal, and swirling it around with your spoon. "I made a huge mistake, but please don't tell him I said that,"
She looked over at you and nodded, and then her eyes drifted over you as she smirked, and you suddenly realized your marks were very visible on your skin. You covered yourself up with your blanket, making Rebekah laugh loudly.
"You know, it surprised me that you went with Nik instead of Elijah," Rebekah teased you as she blew on her tea to cool it down.
"Elijah? He's not interested in me, not in that way," you chuckled, but you were frowning internally. He wasn't, was he?
You'd thought of it before, but then quickly dismissed it as just some stupid fantasy in your head, something that could never happen.
"Just make a move, he's far too reserved," Rebekah advised you, bringing her mug up to her lips.
"He's not," you defended him. "Besides, he's only seen me as a friend and I don't want to ruin our friendship. He's really important to me,"
"He's been in love with you since the day he met you," Rebekah rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disapproval at your answer. "Nik said the same thing," she muttered under her breath, and you barely caught it.
"Nik knew?!" You exclaimed, of course Nik knew and he slept with you anyway. He was such an ass.
Rebekah just nodded, taking a sip of her tea and looking anywhere but at you. You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you tried to process this new information.
"I fucked up," you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face.
"You're telling me," Rebekah chuckled in agreement, and you shot her a glare.
You got up from the table, tossing your empty bowl in the sink. You could feel the guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders, and the knowledge that Klaus knew about Elijah's feelings didn't help matters.
"What should I do?" You asked, unsure.
"Tell Elijah how you feel. Ignore Klaus," she shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You're right. I'll tell him when I see him tomorrow," you stated, the plan solidifying in your mind.
Rebekah smiled, "Good. Now come take some of my blood so those marks will heal, it looks atrocious darling,”
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A few hours before you were to meet up with Elijah, you snuck into the compound. With Rebekahs help, you knew no one would be home and you could put your plan into action.
You went to Elijah's room, laying out a few more birthday gifts you bought him and decorating the space. You lit a few candles and had some music playing softly. Your nerves were going haywire and you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest. You paced around the room, trying to calm your nerves and keep from backing out.
You went to his bathroom to add the finishing touches to his final present, you. You put on some lingerie, sheer, lace and leaving nothing to the imagination. You added some thigh high stockings, clipping them on with a garter belt.
You took a deep breath and looked in the mirror, trying to stay confident. You were going to go through with this. He would like this, right?
You went out into the bedroom, pulling a robe over yourself and sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your hands as you waited. You tried to sit in a sexy position, but every pose felt unnatural.
Finally, after a few agonizing minutes, you heard his footsteps. Thanks to Rebekah you knew Klaus would be away for the evening, which meant you had the place all to yourself.
The look on his face when he walked in was worth it. He paused in the doorway, his eyes widening as they swept over the room. He took a moment before his gaze found yours, and his expression turned soft, a small smile forming.
"I hope you don't mind but I got some more gifts for you," you spoke quietly, feeling your confidence slipping away the longer he stared at you.
You had rendered him speechless, which was not something that happened very often, and that made you feel a bit better.
He slowly walked in, closing the door behind him and setting his things on the desk in the corner. He didn't say anything else and just watched you. You felt like prey being stalked by its predator, the anticipation was killing you.
"I thought we could celebrate alone," you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Do you like it?" You added, getting off the bed and gesturing around the room.
His eyes never left you, trailing up your legs to the hem of your robe, then to your face. He seemed to be deciding what to do next.
"Yes, very much so," he answered, his eyes still dark, his breathing a little deeper.
"I have one more gift," you said softly, trying to keep your breathing steady. "But you have to close your eyes,"
He hesitated, but complied. He closed his eyes, and you walked closer to him, reaching out to take his hand. You guided him to the bed, and he sat down.
"Keep them closed," you told him, and he did.
You removed your robe, letting it fall to the floor. You stood there, waiting for a few seconds, and then you got up the courage and climbed onto his lap. 
He hummed, his hands resting on your waist, he could feel that you weren't wearing much, but he kept his eyes closed.
"You can open them," you whispered.
He opened them slowly, and when his eyes met yours, his pupils were blown wide. You had never seen him look at anyone that way before.
"Happy birthday," you blushed, giving him a shy smile.
He was still silent as his eyes roamed your body. A part of you began to panic at his reaction, were you wrong in thinking he wanted you in this way?
Then he gripped your hips tighter, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Am I being granted a birthday wish?" His voice was darker, just a hint of seduction mixed in.
You looked away from him, blushing even harder, and mumbling a yes.
He pressed his lips to yours and it felt like sparks exploded all around you, the feeling was indescribable. The kiss was desperate and needy and full of so many hidden emotions, all brought out in the space of a minute.
You clutched at his shirt, gasping into his mouth and moaning softly. This is what you'd always wanted, what you needed. He could give it to you, he always could.
"How long have you wanted this, sweetheart?" Elijah asked, a jolt of heat racing through your veins at the tone of his voice.
"Years," you whispered against his lips, it was all you were able to get out before he was kissing you again.
One of his hands came up to tangle in your hair, pulling lightly and tilting your head to deepen the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, panting and whimpering as he got more and more aggressive and rough.
He snaked a hand down between your legs, pushing aside your panties and finding you wet. He hummed in approval, and you pulled away from his lips, letting out a soft cry when his fingers slipped inside you.
He teased you, not giving you enough pressure where you needed it most. It was slow and you squirmed, wanting him to give you more.
He sensed your frustration and smiled, "I can do whatever I want with my present, be a good girl now," he whispered, making you whine and blush more.
You were surprised by how dirty Elijah was being and what turned you on even more, was knowing you would be the only one to see this side of him.
"Yeah, I'll be good," you huffed, pouting a bit. You really wanted him to fuck you.
"I'd like to unwrap my gift now," he was smirking at your frustration and then unclasped your bra, tossing it aside. He held you firmly in is his lap as he looked you over. 
You felt shy and exposed as his eyes studied your body, his hands coming up to touch the soft flesh of your breasts, squeezing and then rolling your nipples between his fingers, until they were stiff and aching. He gave you a wicked smile as he licked at one, feeling you tremble beneath him.
He pulled you up further on his thighs, so your chest was level with his mouth.
You had no time to process what was happening before he had his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, nipping lightly and licking, while his hand tweaked the other one. He repeated this action with both of your breasts, as you arched your back, whining his name and pleading for him to give you more. You enjoyed the light tease, but if he didn't fuck you soon you were going to lose it.
He pulled back and let you undue his belt, tugging his pants down just enough to free his cock. He was still fully dressed, while you only had your panties and stockings on. His cock sprang up, and you reached down between the two of you to wrap a hand around him, stroking gently.
His hands gripped your ass and lifted you up, lowering you down on his cock. Your eyes locked and a whimper left your throat, the stretch was delicious and felt so good.
When you were seated fully on him, you both took a moment to breathe. The connection between you felt new and deep and unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once and you were desperate to have more. You wanted to be consumed by him, it was the only thing you knew would sate the intensity you were feeling.
His dark eyes conveyed the same feelings and he began lifting you up and down. Your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as he controlled your movements. He was using you as he pleased, and you didn't mind one bit.
The sound of slapping flesh filled the room, and it sounded obscene. Your mind clouded with lust and emotion. His lips on your neck, sucking and biting, he let his fangs graze your skin to feel your pulse under them.
"Making such a mess on my cock," he murmured against your neck, smirking at how wet you were. You were so embarrassed by how he was talking to you, you shouldn't have liked it, but God it was making you wetter and you could feel his pants getting damp from your cum. You were mortified.
This only made him grin wider, licking a stripe up your neck and then sucking bruises across your neck and chest. He watched your face contort with pleasure as his grip on you got tighter and he thrusted up into you.
"I'm going to claim every part of you, so when Niklaus sees you, he'll know he failed," Elijah's voice was stern, but the growl behind it made you shiver.
Just when you are about to hit your peak he flipped you onto the bed, keeping your bodies connected. He pressed himself against you, fucking into you deep and slow, his breath hot in your ear, praising you for being so good for him.
You felt your climax hit you hard, crying out his name and clawing at his shirt. Elijah drank up the sight of you beneath him, your pupils blown and your body trembling through your high.
He was still buried inside you, and he stilled for a moment, staring down at you with an expression of awe and affection. It made you flush under his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact for long.
He reached between your bodies, rubbing your swollen clit to push you over the edge again, catching your lips in his so he could swallow your moans, smiling against you.
"So beautiful," he breathed against your lips, kissing you once more before pulling out. He seemed unconcerned with chasing his own release, instead focusing on you.
You tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours, he pulled it off quickly and then his lips found yours again.
His hand moved down to your thigh, his fingers dancing over the lace material of your stockings. He broke the kiss, his lips going down to your neck, his fingers finding the clasp on the one of stockings, unclipping it with a snap.
He hummed and moved down your body, his lips pressing kisses over your collarbone and down the valley of your breasts. He unclipped the other one, and his mouth went down your stomach. He pulled the panties off you with his teeth, smirking as he went, then looking up at you.
You were sweating a little, your hair a mess and you were panting. He'd done a number on you already and it made him ache, knowing no one had ever seen you like this. Only him.
He leaned in and tasted you, his tongue lapping up the slick from your previous orgasms. You were over sensitive and tried to close your legs, but he held them open, sucking and licking, rubbing your clit in gentle circles.
You were close to coming again and then he pushed one of his fingers into your ass, making you gasp and squirm.
"Eli!" You breathed his name, blushing. You had never had anyone do this before, and it sent a strange thrill through your body.
He removed his mouth and looked up at you, moving back up to hold your gaze, "I want to have all of you," he explained and waited, not wanting to pressure you into anything.
"You can, but no one's ever..." you trailed off, squirming under him, suddenly too embarrassed to look at him anymore.
He squeezed your ass, pulling your thigh up over his hip as he moved beside you. He brought his lips to yours in a soft kiss, distracting you as he moved his hands down to your ass. He began massaging the flesh, spreading your cheeks and a finger breached the entrance to your ass slowly.
"Relax," he whispered against your lips, his free hand gripping your hair and tugging it. You mewled and he kissed you harder. He swallowed your whimpers, his thumb pressing against your clit and his fingers pushing into both your holes.
He stayed gentle, knowing it was a little different than vaginal sex. You did like it, the unfamiliar pleasure warming your belly.
He stretched and worked your body slowly, trying to relax you. Your lips were puffy and your eyes were hooded as he continued, sliding a second finger into your ass, stretching you. He listened to your erratic heartbeat as you watched him.
"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked softly, rubbing your clit with a little more pressure to distract you.
Your nails were digging into his chest, your mind foggy with a daze of pleasure, nodding your head. His lips were feather light against your neck, and he smiled, noticing how flushed and turned on you were.
"Are you ready my love?" Elijah's voice was soothing and had no pressure behind it, which only made your love for him grow even stronger.
"Yes," your voice was breathless and pleading, you needed this, needed him, needed to be closer and to share this experience with him. He was the only one you trusted to give yourself to him.
He rolled you onto your back, pushing your thighs up and nudging your knees apart. He spent a few moments drinking in the sight of you beneath him, his eyes skimming over every inch of your body with reverence.
His thumb played with your clit as he prepared his cock. Your arousal coated his fingers and he spread it along his length, slicking his cock up. He got into position and started to push into your tight hole.
"Look at me," he said softly as he hovered over you, continuing the process of taking you slowly.
You did as he commanded, eyes locking as he moved inside you. You clung to his arms, panting at the sudden stretch. He pushed in another few inches, watching your face carefully, listening to the reactions your body gave.
"It's okay," he assured you, rubbing your clit with his thumb and pushing the rest of the way in.
You squirmed and mewled, but he stilled, letting you adjust before he began to move. Slowly rocking his hips, easing in and out, hissing and biting his lip at how impossibly tight you were.
He pushed your legs up further and eased two fingers inside your pussy, pushing in and out slowly and timing it with his thrusts.
He worked you up, moving slow and deep, filling you up. You were a whimpering mess and looked so beautiful to him, the sight of you and the feeling of you completely submitting to him was intoxicating.
You couldn't speak, the pleasure overwhelming, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss your palm.
He leaned down and claimed your lips in a soft kiss, his hips moving just a little faster, rocking deeper inside you, touching every part of you and making you his.
His fingers in your pussy were moving just right, brushing against that spot inside you. His kisses grew sloppy, with you panting into each other's mouths and struggling to breath through the pleasure.
"Eli..." you gasped, shaking beneath him, knowing you were close. He was starting to fall over the edge with you, pushing you both towards oblivion.
He pounded into you, rolling his hips harder and faster, making you moan louder. Then everything snapped, you back arching, your mouth open in a silent scream of pure bliss.
Your pussy clamped down around his fingers and your ass squeezed his cock, and he let out a low groan, grinding deep into you as he came.
He found your lips again in a sweet kiss, brushing your sweaty hair back and keeping the both of you connected for a few moments longer. When you had come down from your high he slowly slid out of you, keeping an arm around you as you turned onto your side to cuddle against him.
The both of you just kept kissing, holding each other close, not wanting the moment to end.
He reached down and pulled the comforter over the both of you, tucking it around you. Elijah kissed the top of your head as he held you in his arms, his hands sliding all over your body, mapping it out in his head.
"Happy Birthday, Eli," you whispered softly, your cheek pressed to his shoulder.
His heart swelled and he smiled, his hold tightening on you, he loved hearing you call him that.
"Can I have another birthday wish?" he asked softly, running his hands over your body, holding you in a way that was almost possessive.
"Of course," you flushed with excitement as you waited to see what he was going to ask.
"Will you be mine?" He asked, holding your gaze and looking uncharacteristically nervous for a moment.
You were so overwhelmed by his request, but it only took you a moment to respond, "I am already, Eli, I've been yours for a long time," you assured him, and the words made him let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I love you," he said, saying the words he never thought he'd say, feeling so much lighter now that he said them, and finally knowing what it meant to be with you.
"I love you, too," you felt a bit shy but couldn't hide the emotion in your voice.
He was relieved, burying his head in the crook of your neck.
You smile and laugh softly, running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. He mumbles some incoherent words into your neck and you love the sound.
It felt good to be with him, like it was always meant to be.
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 10 months
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Eyooo! I had a longgg ass day at work today and was wondering if I get a Drabble of Aemond relaxing me after a long stressful day at the red keep
Ahhh, I have made you wait over two months for this, and I am so sorry! ANYWAY. I hope this tickles your pickle.
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Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~760
Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.
She sinks down into the tub, sighing in relief as the warmth of the water envelopes her, slowly soothing the ache in her back.
Today has been a real test of her patience. While her husband, Aemond, has been attending to his duties as Prince Regent, she has been attending to hers as his wife. It is a title she has never felt any resentment for until today.
She had been left in charge of entertaining the ladies of the court while Alicent was needed elsewhere. Between the tedious gossip and uncomfortable chair she'd had to sit in all afternoon, she'd been subjected to prying questions about when her and Aemond might produce an heir.
Her face aches from the pretend smile she has had to feign for hours and her mood is foul. She wants nothing more than to soak in her bath and be left well alone for a couple of hours.
Closing her eyes, she relaxes, laying back and basking in the peace and quiet. That is until she hears the door to her and Aemond's quarters creak open, the familiar sound of his boots upon the flagstones.
Gods, did he ever pick up his fucking feet when he walked?!
She keeps her eyes closed, doing her best to ignore the sounds of him moving around the room. She can hear him unbuckling his tunic and removing his boots.
Not ready to surrender her tranquillity just yet, she hopes he will move away to the bedchamber, but any hopes of that are dashed when he begins rustling through parchments on his writing desk. The sounds of him tutting every so often as he does this finally forces her to crack an eye open in irritation.
"Must you be so noisy?" She snaps.
He looks up from his papers, clearly startled. "I wasn't aware I was making any noise..."
"It is impossible to relax around here."
"Might I be of assistance?" Aemond asks with a sly smile, walking slowly over to where she bathes.
"No." She replies sulkily.
He smirks, kneeling beside the tub and rolling up the sleeves of his undershirt. "What's gotten into you?"
"My day has been awful, and you are not helping with the absolute racket you insist upon making."
"Hmm." Aemond muses, his long fingers stroke across the surface of the bath water, causing it to ripple. "Sounds an awful lot like you are being a brat."
Her eyes widen in shocked offence. "I am not."
"You are." He insists, his arm lowering beneath the surface of the bathwater, his hand dipping between her thighs, they part upon instinct. "Now will you allow me to help you, or are you going to continue to sulk?"
She draws in a shuddering breath as he begins to circle her pearl agonisingly slowly. The warmth of the water, combined with the heat from the fire that crackles within the hearth beside them, both serve to add to the intensity of what she is experiencing at the hands of Aemond, making her feel light headed.
"Use your words, or I will stop." He chides.
He slips his middle finger inside of her and she whimpers. "Y-yes." She manages to stammer. "Need you."
"There you are." He coos, working his finger against the spongy spot deep inside of her, the heel of his palm grazing against her bud with every movement. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Water splashes over the sides of the tub and onto the floor as he increases his pace, causing her to gasp and grip the sides of the bath so hard her knuckles turn white.
His eye watches her face carefully and with every pump of his finger he draws her closer to her peak as her sensitive inner walls begin to clench around his digit.
"A-Aemond..." She cries out.
"I know." He smirks, crooking his finger a little more, working his hand a little faster. "Give in for me."
It is as though the simple act of being granted permission is all she needs to let go, as no sooner have the words left his mouth than she finds herself bucking out of the water, white hot intensity flooding her body with every contraction, as she climaxes with a strangled cry.
"Good girl." Aemond murmurs, once she has ridden out her high and lowered back down. He withdraws his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Dry yourself off and lay on the bed, and I'll see what I can do about making sure what remains of your attitude has left you."
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softsfern · 5 months
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kinda freaky
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word count: 7.0 k
aki appreciates your professionalism in the workplace. god knows public safety needs it. so why the hell is he in your apartment two weeks after you've quit??
aka, aki gets seduced. hard. and he likes it!!
tags: cisfem!reader (i was in a mood), reader works with aki briefly, a short discussion of makima's Whole Thing, a dinner and drinks date, heavy flirting, reader makes the first move, pretty shameless smut, making out, fingering, couch sex, doggy style, missionary position, cigarette smoking
read on ao3
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“you don’t think it’s kinda freaky?” your head lolls to one side so you can peer at aki from where he’s sat next to you on the rooftop.
“what?”
you pluck the cigarette out of your mouth to tap off the ash a bit. “denji’s whole thing with makima.”
aki’s response is characteristically abrupt. “no.”
“puh-lease. you have no idea what i’m talking about.” you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, unbothered by his scowl. “if you did, you’d think it was kinda freaky too.”
“i’m not wasting my break listening to you bad-mouth makima-san.”
“i’m not bad mouthing her!” aki seems unconvinced by your exaggerated indignation. “i’m not! i just think the way she treats denji is kinda weird. she’s telling the kid to stake his life to touch her boobs. as a grown ass woman. and her whole petplay thing would never fly if public safety had an actual hr department.”
he stands up to his full height to look down at you, then. “he asked for it.”
“who cares? any kind of workplace stuff seems a little sideways to me, but with that age gap? no doubt something’s hinky.”
“if it’s such a big deal, make a report to the higher-ups.”
you squint up at him, and blow a puff of smoke into his face deliberately.
“oh… so it’s like that.”
you can tell he’s getting riled up because his voice sounds tight when he replies “like what?”
“you’re into dating coworkers and stuff, too.” it’s so obvious when he gets flustered. you give into the temptation to tease him a little more. “yeah… i bet you are. you’ve probably got your own little workplace crush on makima. thinking about doing the nasty behind closed doors at the office, aki?”
“why are you such a pervy little freak?”
you giggle, and you’re delighted to see his eyebrows inch even closer together. “me? a perv? please, aki, i don’t even indulge in workplace romance fantasies. innocent as a lamb, i am.”
“you’re gross. i’m going back to work.” he storms off the rooftop to the sound of your juvenile chortles.
it’s only a few weeks after you’ve quit working for public safety when aki hears his phone chime. 
the text reads “hey”, followed by the blinking bubbles as you type your next text.
aki would be lying if he said his heart hadn’t jumped a little at the sight of your name in his phone. he didn’t even know he had your number saved. he can’t remember the last time he lost sight of his phone, trying to puzzle out when you’d had the chance to add yourself to his contacts list.
he’s startled out of his musing by your next message. 
“are you free tn for drinks??”
better than spending another night in trying to teach power to use a respectful amount of toilet paper. 
“Yeah. I’m off in an hour. Where do you want to go?”
as soon as he sends the text, he regrets it. if you were next to him, you would have snorted at him for using such formal language with a friend. wait. were you friends? you were a work friend (which you told him was different from a regular friend), but you had quit which would make you what exactly? a drinking buddy? an acquaintance? a friend? more than that? obviously more, he did literally owe you for saving his life, but “more than that” in the vague romantic sense?
aki is still staring at the location link you’ve sent when he hears the unfortunate sound of a chainsaw revving. he shoves his phone back into his pants pocket, bracing for whatever life-threatening nonsense denji and power have gotten themselves into.
he completely misses the follow-up text. 
“it’s a date then :) see you there”
aki makes his way to the izakaya you’d suggested as soon as he’s confident his two pet idiots will make it home in one piece. it’s a popular spot for law enforcement and public safety employees, so he doesn’t bother changing out of his work clothes. 
when he looks around for you, he’s still half expecting you to also be in your uniform suit and tie. when you wave him over, aki feels like he does a cartoonish double take. you’re wearing a short sleeved shirt buttoned only twice in the middle and baggy jeans with huge rips in the knees. it’s a lot more skin than he’s ever seen from you. with your sandals and sunglasses perched on top of your head, you look like a trendy, california themed advert. he feels like the stereotype of a hunched japanese salaryman when he comes to sit next to you at the bar.
apparently, the time off has been treating you well. you look a bit tanner and your teeth might be whiter? aki has to turn and order his first drink before you catch him staring and start teasing again.
you start the conversation as usual, with the same easy confidence you’ve always had: “tough day at work, mr. perfect punctuation?”
goddamnit. he knew you were going to bring it up.
“it was fine, you little asshole.” you grin from ear to ear at that, and aki preens. he would never tell you, but he likes that he can make you smile. even if it’s always at his expense.
“madam workplace harassment still running you ragged?” back to this again.
“you’re starting to sound like himeno, you know that?”
you chuckle and apologize, mood still light. 
he takes a sip of his beer before he asks a question of his own. “so what are you doing for work now?”
you take your napkin and swipe a bit of blood smatter off the side of his neck. he nearly chokes on his drink at the casual contact. you lean back, unbothered. “i, ah, i’m in the private sector now. freelance~” you wiggle your fingers at him, feeling the buzz of your second drink set in.
you continue on, despite his furrowed brows. “i like it. i get to travel, take my sweet time. and the pay’s SO much better. speaking of which, let’s be a little luxurious and order some good food!”
aki watches as you eagerly order all of your favorites, and then all of his as well. the two of you have eaten here plenty of times before, but you still gasp and sit up a little straighter when your next dish gets brought out. you seem different than you used to, looser somehow. aki feels drawn into you, a slow pull he’s hesitant to resist.
the conversation comes easily after a few drinks. aki tells you more about denji and power, and his newfound “motherhood”. you laugh and tell him about how your rich client sent you on a weekend trip to kamakura, and you’d snuck in a day at the beach on his dime. he peeks at the sunkissed curve of your neck and does his best not to shudder at the thought of seeing more of your skin in beach attire.
by the end of the night, the two of you are sitting close, shoulder to shoulder. you insist on paying the bill, despite his protests, and thrust a handful of bills toward the server while holding him out of the way. aki complains about not being allowed to split the bill, but he has nothing to say about the feeling of your hand pressed firm against his chest to keep him in his seat.
you trip a little on your sandals as the two of you leave the izakaya for the night, and it’s aki’s turn to insist that he walks you home. the two of you continue your conversation about your upcoming trip to hokkaido, neither one of you in any particular rush to get to your apartment. talking to you is comforting, easy even, for aki. but with every giggle and brush against his side, his mind keeps wandering in less… platonic directions.
when you reach the little stairwell up to your apartment, you pause to look at each other. aki’s awkward goodbye putters out in the back of his throat at the twinkle in your eye. you cock your head to one side, peering at him again. he stares back, not sure what to say to break the silence.
“you don’t wanna come up for dessert?” you keep your expression innocuous, but aki catches onto the invitation just fine. “i just bought coffee ice cream.”
he nods dumbly and you reward him with a soft smile, just a tiny glimpse of pearly teeth. he heels like a well trained dog, following you upstairs without another word.
aki’s been to your apartment once before, at your housewarming party. it looks vastly different now, walls covered with your favorite movie posters and the esoteric art prints. he stands in the middle of the living room until you gently prompt him to sit on the couch. he does.
you watch him take a seat on one side of your second hand sofa, stiff as a board. he looks at you, as if waiting for more instructions, and you chuckle at him.
“i’m gonna go change really quick and then i’ll get you that dessert i promised, kay?” he nods. “make yourself at home, alright?”
you’ve disappeared into your bedroom before he can think of an appropriate response. trying to dispel the awkwardness, he takes out his phone to check his notifications.
oh fuck. he’s just seen your last text.
“it’s a date :)” it’s a date?
suddenly, the room seems ten degrees hotter. his hair is tied too tight, he’s wearing too many layers. aki tries to resist the urge to overthink and fails. miserably. you’ve always been so untouchable, cloaked in easy charm and workplace propriety. before tonight, aki hadn’t ever given a moment’s thought to you and now the word “date” has burrowed deep into his consciousness. he’s rampaging through his memories of dinner and drinks grasping desperately at straws that might clue him into whether you really meant “a date” as a date.
he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. one comes up to rub his face, then both hands, then he puts them down because he knows he’s overreacting. but how could he not? he’d suppressed any romantic thoughts of you years back and now you’ve whacked him upside the head out of nowhere with a date.
did it come out of nowhere?
aki would make another contract with a devil for the chance to sink through the velvety fabric of your couch cushions and disappear forever. the thought of running out of the door and blocking your number occurs to him, but he hears the click of your bedroom door opening and–
oh no. 
this can’t be happening. aki always thought that chasing the gun devil was going to do him in but it might be the sight of you in skimpy lounge clothes that gets him first.
you’ve changed into a sleek black tank top that clings to you. the v-shaped neck is tastefully deep and trimmed with lace that perfectly highlights your now very exposed sternum. that would be enough to have aki turning tomato red, but you’ve also slipped into a pair of loose gray cotton shorts. aki catches a peek at the soft skin of the tops of your thighs before he’s tearing his eyes away. he feigns interest in your drapes and tries to get a handle of his hammering heartbeat before you notice. 
you’ve probably just changed into your pajamas to get comfortable, he tries to reason with himself. he’s overreacting, probably. the thought that you’ve put on such revealing clothes for him would be too much for him to confront, slightly tipsy as he is.
you breeze past where he’s sat, heading straight for the kitchen. as you bend over to rummage through your fridge, aki takes advantage of the opportunity to ogle your  bare legs. he takes in the shape of taut skin over your hamstrings, the curve of your calf, the taper of your achilles. it’s shameless, he knows. he’s so attracted to the sight of you it feels sinful.
you find your ice cream, hidden behind a bag of frozen veggies, and cheer as you wave it at him. aki jumps, broken out of his state of hypnosis. he stares at his hands hard, trying to be respectful and quit fucking leering at you. he hears you root through a drawer for a bit before you’re flopping next to him on your little couch. you plop your bare legs into his lap, and he barely manages to pull his hands out of the way (even with his devil hunter reflexes). he shores up his courage to look up at you and oh, this won’t end well.
you’ve only brought one spoon back with you. it’s hidden in your mouth, concealed by an unfairly pretty smirk. you pull it out of your mouth and lick the remaining sweetness off your lips like the cat that got the cream.
“wanna bite, aki?” you’ve pressed the edge of the spoon against his lips before he has a chance to say anything. he opens his mouth and accepts, hoping that whatever devil you have a contract with doesn’t allow you to read minds. he doesn’t want you to know that every cell in his body is sizzling with anticipation over the innocent act of sharing a spoon with you.
you lean in close, and study his face. “good, right?”
aki nods, and swallows. you tuck another spoonful of the sugary confection into your mouth, batting your lashes at him. enough.
aki’s speaking before his brain has a chance to catch up. “this is a date, right?”
you smirk as you dig at a chocolate chip in your pint. “well, i thought so. you don’t want it to be a date?”
“i thought, you know... you didn’t want to date me.”
“i don’t think i ever said that.” your eyebrow cocks, and aki can sense the challenge in your tone.
“well you were very clear. about not dating anyone from public safety.”
you shift, until you’re nose to nose with him. aki feels like a little dog, staring into the drooling maw of a wolf he never saw coming.
“aki,” you call him like a stray, “i wanted for us to be on equal terms.” one of your hands comes up to brush his cheek, light as a feather. your fingertips are cold from the forgotten ice cream container. “you’re not my coworker anymore, are you?”
he speaks without thinking, eager to please. “no.”
“did you want tonight to be a date?”
“yes.”
your hand presses against his face, cradling one side of his jaw. you tilt your head, just by a few degrees. he watches as the corners of your lips quirk up again. “would you like to kiss me?”
all he can do is nod. the anticipation is heavy in his throat. if he tries to speak, he knows all he’s going to be able to manage is an embarrassing whimper.
“okay then,” your thumb rubs at his cheek affectionately, “go ahead.”
he closes the infinitesimal gap between you and he swears it feels like all the blood in his body is singing for you. your lips are cold from your frozen dessert, but aki feels heat run from the crown of his head all the way down his back at the feeling of you you you. you’re smiling, he can feel it against his lips, and both of your hands have come to cup his cheeks. then you’re kissing him again and aki feels like his chest has cracked wide open.
he only notices that his eyes have closed because he opens them to stare at you when you pull away from him. he’s desperate for more, he doesn’t care if you make fun of him as long as you come back to kiss him again. you guide him against the back of the couch with your hands. he doesn’t understand what you’re doing, but he obeys anyway. then you’re swinging one leg over the both of his to seat yourself in his lap. he doesn’t even have time to register how stunned he is by you before you’re kissing him again. aki can feel your chest pressing against his and he thinks he would level a city block for you if you asked. 
then you’re playfully licking into his mouth and aki is groaning. he can taste the bittersweet of the coffee on your tongue and it’s better than any five star meal makima could buy for him.  he wraps his arms tight around your back, trying to hold you as close as he can, and he feels the hum of your delighted giggle against his lips.
you shift against him then, using your thighs to press the both of you against the couch cushions , trying to close a gap that isn’t there. aki chokes a little then, because the warm apex of your thighs is so close to his painfully hard cock. he wants to feel them, your thighs, so he does. the skin is warm under his hands. he runs his palms all over, just trying to feel more, while you make his head spin with your lips and tongue.
he uses his thumbs to caress the soft skin of your inner thigh, right up against the hem of your shorts. he couldn’t stop if he was offered all the money in the world, he’s completely obsessed. you sigh into his mouth, words he can barely understand through his kiss-induced haze, “touch me, aki. touch me please.” he’s so turned on, he could scream.
instead, he lets his fingertips wander past the hem of your shorts. they would be shaky if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve yanked his hair out of the topknot and the scratch of your nails against his scalp has silenced the nervous race of his thoughts. your lips are warm now, as they run across his jaw. your tongue is too, leaving a hot wet trail down the side of his throat as you chase the feeling of his pulse under smooth skin. he lets his thumbs creep up under your shorts and
holy fuck.
you’re not wearing any underwear. at all.
he has unrestricted access to you, and you’re sopping wet. he moans, moans, into your mouth at that, and you kiss him even harder. aki feels absolutely ravenous, running his fingers over slick skin over and over and over. you’re panting and squirming in his lap and there’s nothing else on the planet that compares to the feeling of you whimpering against his lips.
you give his hair a tug, and the sharp pull against his scalp has him staring dazedly up at you. 
“more.”
you watch his brows knit together. “more?” his voice is syrupy soft.
“more.” and you’re kissing him again, hoping he understood your demand through his wanton blur.
he runs his finger across your slick skin a few more times, trying to build up courage as he swipes circles across your clit. you yank on his hair and whine testily into the side of his neck and he gets the message: hurry up. so he swallows and presses his middle finger against your hole and feels you squeeze around him when he pushes into you. all the way up to his knuckle. you whine into his ear again, a pretty little sound. you sound so sweet, aki’s pushing another finger up into you immediately.
you reward him with another mewl before you’re nuzzling into the crook of his neck, face pressed against the warmth of his skin. he’s touching you so well, pushing against the gummy soft spot inside of you that makes your thighs shiver against him. he’s so absorbed in the way you’re grinding into his lap, fucking yourself on his fingers, that he doesn’t register that he’s panting and groaning into your ear just as loud. he’s light-headed, high off the way your arms are clinging to his neck and your hair is brushing against his cheek.
“ohmygod, aki” your voice is breathless and whispery. it’s hotter than any ridiculous porno that denji has left open on aki’s laptop. “close! i’m close!”
his head is swimming, but aki hears his voice beg, “oh please, please come on my fingers baby.” he sounds almost as fucked out as you. “you can do it, i know you can. there you go, fuck my fingers pretty.” if he weren’t so fucking turned on, he’d be embarassed how low his voice has gotten, thick with desire.
it doesn’t matter though, because soon enough, you’re coming into his hand. he hears your shuddery exhale first, then feels the twitch of your thighs against his. you call his name as you gush into his hand, warm and syrupy and wet. aki pulls back from you a little bit to watch as the dark patch on the crotch of your shorts spreads across where his hand is tucked between the two of you and fucking whimpers at the sight. 
meanwhile, you’ve gone quiet and boneless in his lap. he’s still slowly pumping his fingers into you, gently, to help you come back down. you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, leave a sweet kiss up against his pulse point. his other hand abandons its tight grip on your ass to rub warm, comforting circles against your back.
after a few moments, you pick your head back up. aki examines the lazy tilt of your head, the blissed out smile you give him. and then you’re kissing him again, and he basks in the warmth of your attention. you make out for another few minutes. it’s sloppy and unhurried, the two of you just enjoying the comfort of touching and being touched. your arms are unwinding around his neck, and he feels your hands start to work at unbuttoning his now rumpled white button-up. he lets you have your way with him, lets your fingertips drum across his chest as you nip at his lips playfully. his thumbs have started rubbing little circles into the side of your waist when you pull back again.
your eyes are brighter, more alert. that predatory glint in your eye is back. all aki can feel is anticipation, thrumming like liquid lightning in his veins. he watches the spit –his, he thinks– glisten on your lips as you giggle. the tip of your index finger traces his cheek, “you’re so  cute, aki.”
the tip of your index finger scratches the sensitive skin behind his ear as you tuck a loose strand of hair back into line. you’re so tender with him. his heart swells, bruising against the inside his ribcage. that same fingertip of yours trails in abstract swirls, eddying in the hollows of his collarbones before drawing a heart over his sternum. you bat your lashes at him, “you’re blushing all the way down your chest.”
you give him another sweet kiss, and he stares at you dumbly. “mm, i think i still want more.”
“more?” aki’s voice did not just crack.
“yeah, what do you think?”
“i- uh, i…” aki’s still trying to stutter out a reasonable response when you cut him off with a giggle. you’re popping up out of his lap, tugging on his hand to pull him up with you. he reaches out to steady you when you sway sharply to one side. you giggle again, and hug him tight.
“my legs are a little wobbly,” you whisper conspiratorially. “i might need you to help me to bed, aki.” all he can do is groan with embarrassment and hide his face in your hair. he lets you tug him by the sleeve toward your bedroom without complaint.
the two of you are about five steps into the hallway before you push him against the wall suddenly. you’re on him again, tugging on his hair and licking into his mouth. your press against him and his hard-on is back in full force (not that it ever really subsided to begin with).
then, as suddenly as you came, you’re pulling back from him again. aki huffs, a little petulant, through his nose at the loss of your body heat.
“sorry, cutie.” you let him pout at you for a couple seconds before the old temptation to tease him strikes again. “i really want to suck you off in the hallway, but i don’t think i can wait.” you watch the soft pink flush on his cheeks turn into deep scarlet smugly. then you’re taking him by the hand and whisking him into your bedroom.
you dive into your bed face first, giddy for no good reason. then you flop onto your back and make grabby hands at aki, who’s lingering at the edge of the bed frame. he crawls in after you make a whiny sound at him. he crawls right over top of you, and you let him settle between your legs. 
“i’m going to kiss you now,” he says. his voice is raspy in a way that makes you drip.
“akiii… you don’t have to ask for permission anymore. you literally just fingerbanged me in my living room.”
“i wasn’t asking.”
and he’s closing the distance between you, one hand under the back your neck to push you against his hot, hungry mouth harder. you didn’t think it was possible for you to get any wetter. he drops his body weight on top of you so he can grind his bulge against your cunt and you whimper at the feeling of it.
you let him suck a few deep, purpling bruises into the side of your throat before you tug at his shirt. “i need you naked, now please.” you really don’t care how whiny you sound when you say it. how could you, when aki’s sitting up in front of you, weight balanced on his knees and yanking his shirt off. you take the time to watch the way the lean muscles of his arms and chest move under the broad expanse of his now exposed skin. the soft little sound you make in the back of your throat is involuntary, but you see his ears get a little redder than they were before.
then he’s leaning back to shuck his work pants off, fumbling with the buckle of his belt. you don’t have it in you to sit there nicely and let him get his slacks off, so you sit up too. you reach for him, wrap your arms around his shoulders and lap at the skin behind his ear. just to taste, just to tease. then he’s kicking his pants off his legs and grabbing your face with two big warm hands and kissing you again. you feel a moan vibrate against your tongue, and you’re not sure if it’s you or him.
you let him kiss you senseless and push you back down against the mattress. one of his hands squeezes the outside of your thigh, and guides your legs to wrap around the delectable narrow of his waist. he keeps kissing you, and you relish the feeling of grinding the wet patch on your shorts against the front of his charcoal gray briefs. you feel the hard bulge there twitch against you when you moan, intentionally wanton, into his mouth. fueled by pure animal instinct, you reach for it. he lets you wedge a hand under the waistband, and you feel his warm sigh fan across your face when your fingers close around him. you pump your hand, once. twice, experimentally.
“fuck, i wanna be inside you baby.” he pants against your cheek.
“yes… please,” your voice is breathy, and you’re kind of turned on by how fucked out you sound. “want you inside.”
he pulls away from you, just enough for you to see his wild stare. “take your clothes off, right fucking now.”
you obey automatically, yanking your tank top over your head as fast as you fucking can. your shorts follow not long after, flung to some corner of the room you can’t bring yourself to care about. you turn on him, then. you want those goddamned briefs off.
he lets you tug them down his leg, smiling at your impatience. you wipe that smug grin off his face by shoving him down into your pillows and kissing him. hard and fast, grinding yourself down onto his abs and moaning loud into his lips.  when you use your hand to finally get him inside you, he pecks your lips, whispers “i just wanna touch you a little first, can you be good and wait a little longer?”
you grumble about it, but eventually you nod. he gives you a soft smile that makes you melt. you busy yourself giving him hickies and grinding your clit into the head of his cock, not that you needed to make yourself any wetter. you can feel his hands and their callouses feeling up every last inch of you. the curve of your waist, the dimples at the base of your spine, then over your ribcage. both hands come to cup your breasts and his thumbs circle your nipples, teasingly light. that makes you whine, ask him nicely to let you ride him please?
“no, baby.” you’re so frustrated you can’t even think straight. he wraps his arms around you and eases you back under him. his hair falls into your face and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. “i’m gonna fuck you.”
he smiles at the shocked look on your face, “you want that, don’t you?” you nod frantically, pupils blown.
he splits you open and your jaw drops. you can’t even make a sound, consumed entirely by the feeling of a thick cock, his cock, stretching you out. 
he huffs a quiet laugh, “fuck baby, you’re so wet. fucking tight too, can barely get halfway in.” he pulls back, until just the head is still inside you. then he rocks his hips back in, gentle despite your insistence that he just fuck you already!
“there you go, let me in,” he bottoms out this time. “good girl, good girl.” his praise makes you all the more desperate. you cling to his shoulders, lift your hips to meet him halfway on his next soft rock into you. you’re drunk on him, wasted with white-hot desire. the heat of it leaves your skin slick, feverish and sick for the feel of him inside you.
he keeps fucking you, steady and deep, in and out and back in again. god! what a dream. you feel yourself grin, a wild, manic flash of teeth. “mm, feels good aki!” you call his name again: you like the feeling of it on your tongue, but you love the way he looks back up at your face again. so eager to please.
you lift your head to get nose to nose with him again. “harder.”
it’s not a question.
he complies, snapping his hips up into you. his cock bullies its way even deeper into you, you swear you can feel it in your goddamn throat. just barely there on the back of your tongue. it makes your eyes roll, and you don’t really care how debauched you must look. you let yourself claw long red lines into the broad expanse of skin at his back, delighted by his groan in response.
then an idea strikes, and you’re moving before it’s fully coherent. your palms press against the gorgeous planes of his chest, shoving him back, off of you. he obeys, leans back without a word. you can see the question in his eyes, but you don’t need words to answer. instead, you turn over. chest pressed to the mattress and hips over your knees. present yourself to him.
face down. ass up.
you look back, just to show him another teasing smile. his pupils are blown, dark blue irises a near invisible ring around the inky black. then both big hands are grabbing at your waist and yanking you back onto him, and your head drops to the mattress to stifle a yelp because holy fuck he feels big like this.
his grip on you is hard enough to bruise. you hope it does. you think you can feel your arousal dripping down your inner thigh, though it’s hard to tell when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life. he keeps thrusting into you, pushes into places you’ve never reached on your own. you give up on trying to meet his thrusts, and let yourself enjoy being railed into the mattress. you’re moaning and whining more than you’re fucking breathing at this point, and you love it.
then, one hand leaves your hip to find its way around your throat. it pulls you up off the mattress, up until the arch of your back meets his chest. the sound of his breathless panting in your ear has you drooling. he’s muttering in your ear, between loose groans, how good you feel, how wet, how hot, how fucking crazy you’re making him feel. you eat it up, lost in the praise. 
you’re snapped out of the warm, syrupy haze when his other hand comes down, hard, on your clit. you squeal, and feel his cock twitch at the sound. then his fingers are pressing deft circles into your clit, with just enough pressure to have you going entirely limp. you shiver in his hold, whimper and whine to him to keep going, don’t stop!
he doesn’t stop. instead, the circles on your clit continue, winding up the knot in your tummy. his thrusts get even deeper, harder, right into the gummy spot inside you that turns your mindless, downright nasty rambling into incoherent babbling. he holds you up with a firm grip around your throat and you lose yourself in the warmth of it.
before you know it, you’re coming undone again. he keeps thrusting through your orgasm, slow deep thrusts that have you gasping for air. your knees give out, and he fucks you flat against the mattress as you shudder. he presses his weight against your back, not letting you squirm away from him. you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even breathe. everything is him him him. his cock inside you, his hand on your clit, his lips on the shell of your ear, whispering praises for creaming on his cock. everything between your legs is so hot, so wet.
you crane your head up, whimpering softly, and he gives you the soft kiss you were looking for. it's slippery and messy, a wet slide of lips and tongue. the fingers on your clit slow to soft, feather light circles as the stars in your eyes clear. you let time slow for a bit, let the pounding of your heart slow to a sleepy thrum.
he shifts his weight back, pulls out of you with a quiet sigh. you feel his hands at your hips, encouraging you to turn back over. you do, and he kisses you again. you rub his cheek and coo at him, still a little loopy. he smiles at you gently, before he starts trailing kisses down your stomach.
you let him do as he wishes, basking in the afterglow of a really fucking good orgasm. he alternates between licking and kissing the soft skin of your inner thighs, and you reward him by running your fingers through the silky strands of his hair. when he closes his lips around your clit, you whimper a little at the overstimulation, try to push his mouth away weakly. he hushes you gently, looks up through his lashes at you. “just let me taste you a little, ok?”
his pupils are dilated, inky black eating up stormy blue. you nod breathlessly, hazy and easily convinced, and let him dip his head back between your legs. he runs his tongue through your folds, again and again, unhurried. he groans when you shift to open your legs up for him more, roll your hips against his tongue. he’s sloppy and soft with you, and heat starts to run up your spine again. you moan, louder than you meant to, when he starts sucking at your clit. the skin between your legs is so wet, so slick, that you’re able to grind your stuttering hips against his face with no resistance. he lets you use him, fuck his face happily.
then you’re tugging on his hair again, pulling his face towards yours so you can taste yourself on his tongue. it’s kinda freaky, and you love it. he doesn’t seem to mind either, the way he’s winding his arms around you to hold onto you, tighter. then you’re snaking one arm between the two of you and guiding his cock back inside of you.
he stutters out a cute little sound, a breathy “ah!”, as he slips back inside of you with little resistance. you cant your hips up, to pull him in deeper, and he hides his face against your collarbone. 
you giggle into his ear. “don’t get shy on me now aki~”
he groans in response, not bothering to glower at you. “shut up, asshole.”
you gasp in mock outrage. “you’re gonna call me names? while you’re balls deep inside me? rude!”
“i swear to god-” he cuts himself off with a groan. “don’t fucking do that shit with your hips when i’m trying to talk to you!” he feels your shoulders shake with another stifled giggle. he can’t help the way the corners of his lips lift up too. he levels a playful version of his usual stern glare at you. “do you want me to fuck you again or not, brat?”
your cheeky smile makes his dick twitch. “yes, please mr. hayakawa!” 
he rolls his eyes at you, not that it makes your toothy grin subside. he reaches up with one arm to brace himself on your headboard, then scoffs at your resulting eyebrow wiggle. he kisses you once, a playful peck, before slamming his hips into yours with an audible smack.
you yelp, and he lets out a singular laugh at that. serves you right for teasing him all night. you wrap your arms around his neck and pout at him for being mean. he watches the complaints die on your tongue as your eyes flutter shut, utterly overwhelmed by the way he’s fucking into you. he makes sure to angle himself to press up against that one spot he’s learned you like so much, and when you start to babble about how good you feel, how wet you are, he knows he’s found it again.
he fucks you and fucks you and he ignores the way his head is spinning and his arm is aching from holding him up. aki’s entire world narrows down to a few inconsequential details: the way your sweat glistens on your skin, the warmth of your arms around his neck, and the building pressure deep in his stomach. he’s close before he even realizes, and you are too (if the way your legs are tightening around his waist is any indication). he thumbs at your clit, offering you just a little more stimulation.
“cum with me, please?” his voice sounds choked, and more desperate than he’d like.
you nod frantically, beg him, “yes, aki please!” and “i’m- oh god! so close, please!” you’re clawing at his chest, trying to get a hold of him to brace yourself against wave after devastating wave of pleasure. the pain of your nails grasping for purchase on his chest doesn’t stop him from pistoning into you, hard enough to knock you against your headboard. instead, he presses his thumb back into your swollen clit, drawing nonsensical patterns that have you squeezing even tighter around him.
you squeal as you come, tummy twitching under him. he abandons his grip on your headboard in favor of falling chest to chest with you. you squeeze your arms around his neck as he reaches orgasm seconds after you. you feel his cock kick inside of you, feel the heat of his cum deep in your belly. you hold him tighter then, bury your face in the silky strands of his hair as you ride out your orgasm. it’s the long slow kind, the one that has you squirming in a slow syrupy gush of pleasure.
he holds you through all of it, pressing his forehead against yours until you’re both spent and limp. when both of your breaths have slowed, you tilt your chin up to slot your mouth against his. it’s a relatively chaste kiss, lips on lips in a way that feels unexpectedly familiar. 
he pulls away from you, and you whine at him. he rubs your cheek affectionately and tells you to sit tight. you’re too worn out to argue, so you flop your head against your pillows obediently. when you open your eyes again (when did you fall asleep?) , he’s wiping the mess between your thighs away with a warm washcloth.
you make room for him when he sits back down in bed with you, lit cigarette between his lips. he offers it to you with a wordless gesture, but you shake your head and snuggle into his chest instead. so he smokes in silence, and you revel in the heat of his skin against your cheek. if you had more energy, you probably would have teased him for being the cliche one night stand smoking a cigarette after sex. but it’s late and you’re wiped, so you let yourself go limp as he strokes the top of your head.
“hey aki?”
“yeah?” his voice is so soothing.
“i’m really glad i quit public safety.” his hand stills. “now i get to fuck you without filling out paperwork with human resources.”
he barks out a laugh, loud enough to wake your neighbors. you bury your grin in the junction where his neck meets his shoulder. he squeezes you affectionately.
“go the fuck to sleep you little freak.”
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oh my god i started writing this in fucking august. i really didn't think it was going to end up being this long whoopsies!! i did have a ton of fun writing it but that's just because i want aki so bad it's a little embarrassing
anyways i think this is going to be the only thing i have out for kinktober, but at least i participated!!
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clusterbuck · 1 month
Text
hiatus codas: 2x07 haunted
(this is only a 2x07 coda in a well, technically sense of the term)
“this is never going to fit,” eddie grumbles, dropping his head into his hands.
there’s footsteps behind him, and he hears buck’s low laugh. “having fun without me, gorgeous?”
eddie rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop the laugh that escapes him. “the wedding won’t fit,” he says, gesturing at the pieces of paper strewn across the kitchen table. “we’ve cut the guest list three times, and there’s still way too many people. we’re gonna end up with people standing in the aisle.”
“and we definitely can’t do that?” buck asks. eddie tilts his head to look up at his fiancé, squinting to see him in the strong backlight of the midday sun.
“how are you gonna walk down the aisle if people are standing in it?” he asks.
“i’m walking down the aisle now?” buck asks. “i thought we landed on neither of us?”
eddie turns back to face the table and groans. “we did,” he says. “but then—i kind of thought—it might be nice. maybe we both could.”
buck leans down to press a kiss to his shoulder, just above the collar of his t-shirt. he grabs a chair and scoots it over, as close to eddie’s as he can get. he props his feet up on the stretcher and tucks his knees against eddie’s thigh, leans over and kisses the corner of eddie’s jaw.
“yeah, we could,” buck says. “we can do whatever we want.” he grins, and it travels through eddie, still sparking like lighting in his veins though he sees it just about every day now.
“well, almost whatever we want,” buck amends, and eddie doesn’t even have time to frown before buck adds, “we can do anything except invite this many people to our current venue.”
despite himself, eddie laughs.
“okay, so. we need to cut some people,” he says, then looks at buck. “do we have to invite my parents?”
“no,” buck says. “but you did tell me not to let you uninvite them.”
“did i?” eddie tries, and buck looks unimpressed. he digs in his pocket for his phone.
“want me to play the voice memo?”
eddie lets his mouth twist into a pout, and buck just laughs and reaches for him, one hand landing on his jaw to pull him closer for a kiss.
“fine, my parents stay,” eddie says. “but we do have to kick somebody out.”
buck leans over to look at the guest list, one hand on eddie’s thigh for balance. “well, here’s one,” he says. “why is abby on the list?”
“i thought you added her,” eddie says. “aren’t you supposed to invite exes to weddings?”
“you would know,” buck says. “you’re the one that’s had a wedding before.”
eddie snorts. “yeah, but at that point exes would have been like… junior year prom dates. that’s a little different.”
“yeah, okay,” buck concedes. “but we can still take abby off the list.”
“you sure you don’t want to invite her?” eddie asks. he puts his hand over buck’s, still resting on his thigh. “i mean—you can, if you want. i don’t mind.”
“not afraid she’s going to steal me away?” buck asks, and eddie hears the teasing note in his voice but lets just a hint of possession slip into his own anyway.
“i know she wouldn’t,” he says, and buck squeezes his thigh, face twisting into a smirk as he leans in to kiss him.
“she couldn’t,” he murmurs, lips brushing eddie’s with every word. “no one could.”
“even though she made you the man you are today?” eddie asks, and buck rolls his eyes.
“i never said that,” he says. “i said she made me a better man. which—is true, god, you never met buck 1.0 so you don’t know this—but then i met you.”
“maybe we should invite her to the wedding,” eddie muses. “i should thank her for fuddling you.”
buck bursts out laughing. “baby,” he says, fitting his hand to eddie’s cheek. “do you mean fumbling?”
eddie sighs and leans into buck’s hand. “is that what the kids are saying?”
“have been,” buck confirms, running his thumb along eddie’s cheekbone. “for several years now.”
“well, you know what i mean,” eddie grumbles, grabs buck’s wrist and turns to press a kiss to his palm. “but i guess we don’t need to invite her just for that. i can send her a fruit basket.”
buck’s laughter echoes through the kitchen, bright and clear.
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sapphic-coded · 8 months
Text
I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun
You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.
Series Masterlist
Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader
Warnings: Lots of violence against wood. Reader is a messed up assassin and is proud of her work. So much childhood trauma just hanging out in the background. Reader dresses up like a lumberjack.
Word Count: 3.5k
Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the love you showed for the first chapter of this fic! All the likes, reblogs, and comments helped keep my muse alive as I wrote the second chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you want to be added to the tag list then let me know, and I'll add you when I post chapter three. Enjoy!
Taglist: @natsxwife @iliketozoneout @newawakening9 @natasha-1million @ilovemcuff
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Chapter Two: Flower In A Hailstorm
Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1992 
Your black backpack bounced lightly against your back as you followed a couple paces behind your brother and sister. The morning was bright and warm. The neighborhood was a quiet bustle of activity. Garages opening. Cars pulling out of driveways to begin another commute to work. Other kids trickled out of quiet homes on their way to school. 
When you had walked two blocks, your brother swung his navy blue backpack around until it hung off his shoulder in front of him. He unzipped his bag and looked at your older sister. His hand disappeared into his bag. 
“Do you think Sadie will go to the Homecoming dance with me?” he asked your sister.
Your sister shrugged. “Depends. Is she desperate?” 
“Ha ha. Very funny,” your brother said as your sister smirked. He pulled out a shiny, wrapped foil of pop tarts. “I’m serious. Do you know if anyone else has asked her?” He opened the foil and pulled out one pop tart. He turned and handed it out towards you. You smiled and hurried to catch up to them. You took the pop tart and immediately bit into it. The sweet taste of blueberry jam and hard surgery icing filled your mouth. 
Your brother pulled the second pop tart out of the foil, broke it in half, and handed one piece to your sister. 
She took her half. “How would I know?” She took a bite of her piece of pop tart. 
“Because you’re in the same History class,” your brother replied.
“That doesn’t mean I talk to her,” your sister said before taking another bite. 
You ate your blueberry pop tart while listening to your siblings talk about Sadie and the Homecoming dance. You didn’t chime in with any advice. You didn’t know who Sadie was. Most likely a girl in high school like your siblings. But it was fun to listen to them discuss the likelihood of your brother getting a date with this girl. By the time you reached your school, your sister had settled on the theory that Sadie would most likely agree to the date if every other boy in the school dropped dead. 
Your siblings wished you a successful day before you parted ways. You walked your usual route into your school and through the busy hallways. Clusters of students clung to the long, noisy hallways. Their stares were all too familiar. Strange looks. Hushed questions that weren’t so quiet that you couldn’t overhear. No kid dared to leave their pack of friends to go near you. Despite the plain, ordinary clothes you wore, you also wore the stories of your father. 
He was the random, misplaced red thread in a blanket of black. He stood opposed to the currents of the town. His beliefs were rooted securely in what many brushed aside as fantasies. He kept himself fairly busy within the confines of your home, but whenever fate drew him into the public an odd story would follow. One neighbor once saw your father out in a field, attempting to contact aliens. Another found him in their yard digging a hole to a secret bunker. There were countless stories, and they followed you wherever you went. You were his, and so, you must be strange too. It didn’t help that you rarely ever acted like the other kids. It was not intentional. If you could understand how to act like them, you would. But you didn’t. So every day you spent in this school, you spent it alone. Surrounded by strangers. Constantly feeling their judgmental stares digging into your back. Hearing the whispered rumors about you and your family. 
When you reached your classroom, you went over to your desk at the far back side of the room. Your desk was positioned an extra foot off to the left as if the group of desks had just decided to push yours just a bit further away. You put away your belongings into your desk, hung your backpack on the back of your chair, sat down, and waited for the school day to begin. 
You had your notebook open and you practiced your handwriting as the other students all filed in. Your whole family was in agreement that your handwriting was truly horrible. You needed to fix that, but you frowned at your latest attempts. All barely legible. Your disappointment lingered as the teacher called for the class’s attention. When you lifted your head up, every ounce of disappointment and every thought regarding your terrible handwriting vanished at the sight of her. 
The girl with the blue hair. 
“Class,” your teacher began. “This is Nat. She just moved here and will be joining our class. Let’s give her a warm welcome.” 
As the rest of the class released a chorus of hellos, you sat silently, transfixed. The first, loudest thought in your mind was a simple question: how did she have blue hair? It was so cool. It reminded you of one of the characters out of your sister’s books. The ones she would tell you about right before bed. The second thought was that she was pretty. You couldn’t come up with a good comparison or truly unravel that thought completely. You just knew when you looked at her that she was really pretty. You liked that. 
The teacher gestured to the empty desk closest to yours. Quietly, she crossed the length of the room and sat down at the empty desk. You watched as she pulled a notebook from her backpack before setting her bag down. Then, she looked over towards you. You felt your whole body tense up under her gaze. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to blurt out the loudest thought in your head, but your mouth stayed shut tight. 
“Hi.” Her greeting was soft and quiet. 
You blinked and your mouth opened. “Hi.” When you felt the first sting of awkward tension, you looked away and back down at your notebook. 
The morning creeped by rather uneventfully. Every so often you would look over at Nat who would be busy writing down notes like the rest of the class. You wondered if she recognized you from the other day. Whenever your attention was on your bad note taking, it would often break off and wonder about how to start a normal conversation with Nat. You had never been in such a weird position before. Wanting a connection instead of accepting the natural recoil. You hadn’t come up with any solid strategies by the time the lunch bell rang. 
You pulled your brown bagged lunch from your backpack and followed your class down to the cafeteria. You lost sight of Nat during the shuffling of students, so you took your seat at your usual spot at the end of one of the long, blue-gray cafeteria tables. You opened up your brown bag and pulled out your aluminum foil wrapped sandwich. It was the only thing your father had packed for you. You unwrapped the foil. Your brow furrowed when you didn’t see any meat, or cheese, or anything poking out from between the twin slices of white bread. In fact, there was nothing at all between the slices. Just two slices of bread sitting one on top of the other. 
You heard hushed giggles coming from further down the table. You looked over just as a few of your laughing classmates quickly looked away. Usually, this didn’t bother you. You were used to this. But you couldn’t deny the hurt starting to creep in. You wanted to say something. Do something. Anything to let out–
Someone sat down next to you. Whatever had started to build inside you washed away at the sight of her again. She started to open up her own bag, but stopped when she noticed the two slices of bread posing as a sandwich. 
Her green eyes shifted to you. “Is that your lunch?”
“Uh,” was the first word out of your mouth before you looked down at the bread slices and then back up to Nat. “Yes. It’s my sandwich.” 
“Where’s all the stuff in between?” she asked. 
“I think my father forgot it,” you answered. 
She reached into her bag and pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was already cut in half. “Here.” She offered one half of her sandwich to you. 
You looked from her, to the offered half, and then back to her. “Are you sure?” When she nodded, you took it. You immediately took a big bite. The creamy taste of peanut butter brought a smile to your lips. “Thanks.”
Nat smiled and took a bite of her half of the sandwich. “What’s your name?”
You swallowed your second bite. “Y/N.” 
“I think you live across the street from me,” Nat said. 
Your smile grew tenfold and you nodded. 
This seemed to amuse her as she chewed on another bite of her sandwich. “I remember you.”
“Me too,” you replied. “I like your hair.” 
“Thanks,” she smiled. 
Your conversation carried through your lunch. It was the first time your lunch had been more than just daydreaming between bites of food. You found yourself eagerly engaged in the bits and pieces that Nat shared about herself. You noticed that whenever you shared anything about yourself, she listened attentively without any judgment. You liked the sound of her voice. Whatever connection you had found felt strange and weird. But warm. And happy. 
When lunch was over, you both walked back to class together. You were sad when you took your seats at your desks and returned to your lessons. You already missed this new piece of your life. You just wanted to sit and keep talking to Nat. You strangely got your wish when your teacher instructed the class to pair up for a project. As the rest of the class paired up like normal, Nat looked over towards you. 
“Want to be partners?” she asked. 
When you nodded, she maneuvered her desk to sit a bit closer to yours. Now both of your desks sat further away from the others. You had never conceived that such a day like this would come to pass. Yet here it was, and you couldn’t be happier. 
Somewhere Else – 2010
The burn of the cold mountain air is the only chill you feel as you lift the axe above your head. The muscles in your back protest for the umpteenth time. It’s only been a week since the Amsterham job, and your body is still recovering from the aftermath. Being thrown across a lobby into a pillar wasn’t particularly fun. It wasn’t the worst abuse your body has been through. Barely a fraction of it. But it still sucked. 
You bring the axe down onto the log in front of you. The sharp, curved blade cuts deep into the wood. The smell of pine needles carries on the wind as you yank the axe free from the log. Your bright red plaid shirt clings to your sweaty skin. Your hair is tied back in a messy, low ponytail as you lift the axe back into the air. Dark green cargo pants with the ends tucked into tan boots covers your legs. 
You hadn’t intended to dress up like a lumberjack. You had thrown on your clothes after waking up with a sore back, stared at yourself in the mirror, and wondered what she was doing right now. You had slipped out of Amsterdam without issue. The media had covered the incident with varying degrees of accuracy. There were mentions of charred remains, but no mention of you. Or her. The two days it had taken you to travel to this little piece of woodland paradise had been spent looking over your shoulder. Waiting for her to catch up with you. 
The disappointment you felt upon reaching this place in one piece was a real mood killer. The fun was over, and now you were just left with yourself. You needed to do something. So, here you were with an axe in hand chopping up firewood. But your thoughts still linger on her. You wonder if she’ll ever find you here. You certainly hadn’t left any clues behind. 
Your axe swings back down into the log, and it breaks cleanly in half. You set your axe down upon the grass and toss the chopped wood onto a growing pile off to your right. Then, you grab another log and place it squarely on the stump. Your hands find your axe again. You can’t decide if you liked her blue hair more than the red. You know that you loved when she was on top of you. You raise your axe. Regret weaves into your thoughts. You should have enjoyed it more. What if you never see her again? You bury your axe deep into the log. 
“You have outdone yourself again.” 
Finally. You were wondering when he’d show up. 
You look over towards your father. He steps down from the cabin’s back deck. His thick black hair is combed back and peppered with white strands. Sunlight bounces off a pair of thin, brown wire frame glasses that covers his eyes. He buries his hands into the pockets of a heavy, amber colored jacket as he casually walks towards you. The denim blue jeans he wears bears a few grass stains and dried mud mares his gray loafers.
You yank your axe free and smile. “I made the front page.” 
Your father returns your smile with one of his own, yet it is small and his steel gray eyes remain cold. “I saw. Apparently a shooting between rival criminals turned into a deadly explosion. All dead. The hotel won’t reopen until late next year due to the large hole in their building.” 
A small laugh escapes you as you shake your head. “That is giving them too much credit.”
Your father’s brow furrows. “Who?”
“The men you told me to kill,” you answer as your attention returns to the log in front of you. “They were not rival criminals. They were rich men who wanted more. They reached too far, and I made them go boom.” You raise your axe up and quickly bring it down onto the log. It splits in half. “Except for Tyler.” You look over at your father. “I shot him in the head.” 
“What was so special about Tyler?” he asks. 
You shrug. “Nothing. Just felt like it.” 
Your father lets out a sigh and turns away from you. He takes a few steps away. His hand lifts up, and he runs his fingers through his hair. You set your axe down and toss the newly split wood towards the steadily growing pile of new firewood. You start to reach for another log, but your father turns back around and returns.  
“This job was important.” 
It is your turn to sigh as your interest in splitting the next log vanishes. You knew this was coming. The conversation was always the same whenever one of your jobs ended in a mess. You can’t help the way your eyes instinctively roll. Your father steps closer. 
“These clients are important.”
“It was boring,” you lift your axe up and rest it against your shoulder. 
“I do not care how boring it was, Y/N.”
“Of course you don’t.” Any trace of your earlier amusement is gone. “You did not have to do any of the work. I did. I had to spend four days with an arrogant stranger who smelled like cheap cologne and even cheaper bourbon.” Your father shakes his head and turns away from you, but you are far from through with your rant. “All that money, and he is a cheapskate. Did you know that the first thing he made me do was beat up his driver because he wore the wrong tie? And there was no backup. Who doesn’t have backup?”
Your father turns back to face you. “Are you done?”
“No,” you reply. “I wanted to kill him then. After the first twenty minutes. But no. The important clients don’t want to tackle their problems one at a time. They want everything all at once.” 
“They wanted this job to be subtle.”
“I do not understand why you are upset with me because your clients had unreal expectations,” you reply. 
Your father frowns. “Because I trained you to be better than this.”
You don’t have a clever response for that. You turn and start to make your way towards the cabin. 
“They are also upset that you left one of them alive,” your father says after a moment. 
You stop as you reach the cabin’s back deck. You look back over towards your father. “Then their information is bad. All the targets are dead. It will probably take awhile to identify all the bodies. Shifting through the rubble from the charred limbs takes time.” You set your axe down and lean it against the side of the wooden cabin. 
“They’ve already identified all the bodies,” your father says as he follows you towards the cabin’s back deck. “The targets, their hired security, the SHIELD team.” His voice goes cold around the last three words. 
You stare at your axe. You knew he was going to find out eventually. There was always a report after every one of your jobs. He knew of all your successes and all your weaknesses. It still doesn’t stop you from feeling that first hint of fear. Rooted in so many memories. Your gaze returns to your father. The frown he wears looks so natural upon his face. 
“I did not know that they would be involved,” you say. 
“None of us did,” your father replies. “Why did you leave one of them alive?” 
You feel the fear more keenly now. It’s like he’s reaching out for your favorite toy. You know what he’ll do when he gets it. But it’s yours, and he doesn’t get to touch it. 
“I didn’t–”
“Y/N!” 
You jump slightly at the way your father’s voice explodes like the crack of a gunshot. 
“It’s her, Dad.” 
Your voice is small as confusion softens the hard lines of your father’s face. It’s as if you are back in Ohio seeing the girl with blue hair for the first time. It had stolen the breath from your lungs the first time you saw her. So loudly different from the peaceful town tapestry. You thought you and your siblings were the only ones who stood apart. But then she entered your life.  
“It’s Nat,” you say when your father’s confusion persists. 
And just like that, his confusion falls away and his eyes widen. 
“The Russian spy?” 
A small smile curls your lips. “I didn’t get a chance to ask if that was true.”
“Oh no.” Your father’s hand runs through his hair again before shaking his head. “This is not good.”
“Dad.” You step towards him. “This is wonderful. I thought my only friend had been murdered.”
“That’s because you will believe anything your oaf of a brother tells you,” your father replies. “That girl was a spy. That whole family was built out of secrets and lies. Allowing you to form an attachment with her was a mistake. She was a distraction for you then, and she remains a distraction now.” 
“She did not distract me,” you lie. “I completed the job. Is it now against the rules to socialize with old friends?”
“If she is working with SHIELD then she is your enemy,” the familiar coldness of your father’s voice returns sharply. “She threatens our reputation with our clients.”
“How?” you ask. “She did not stop me from killing my targets. She did not stop me from escaping. She did not follow me here.” Each and every one of those facts were crushing disappointments. “Your reputation remains intact. Nothing will change. I will complete the jobs you give me to the best of my ability. What does it matter if I talk to her? She will not stop me.”
You wait for your father’s argument, yet he says nothing. The look he gives you is familiar. He is studying. Assessing. It reminds you of the countless grueling training sessions in the basement of your home in Ohio. You would be sprawled out on the floor, staring up at him, covered in sweat and sucking in lungfuls of air. Desperate for the training to stop. 
Finally, your father lets out a sigh and digs his hand back into his coat pocket. He withdraws a square, white envelope and extends it out towards you. “Your next job. Straightforward. I expect clean results.” 
You smile and reach for the envelope. But before you can grab it, your father pulls it away. 
“She cannot be a distraction, Y/N.”
Your smile falters. You want to point out that you already explained why she wasn’t. You want to stress that she’ll never be able to stop you from completing your jobs. What happened in Amsterdam was the result of a really long, awful job. You want to say all this, but you don’t. You wish that you were ignorant of the reason. But you know why. Because you aren’t certain what would have happened if that explosion hadn’t happened. If it had just been you and Nat. 
But, you nod, and your father hands over the envelope. You take it.
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sofasoap · 9 months
Text
In your arms
Pairing: Simon “Ghost ” Riley x F!Reader ( OC aka Mini MacTavish )
Summary: Comforting your husband after a nightmare.
Connecting to event of “Death, Comes easily” 
Warning: Mature theme. Nightmare discussion ( related to PTSD ), discussion of death. Angst.
A/N : This was an extension of ANOTHER drabble/comment I wrote a while ago thanks to my midnight muse @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world ( seriously please let me sleep LOL )
Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic  “The Favorite MacTavish”” which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background
 “masterlist” for more prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded universe
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You stare up at the ceiling. Eyes wide open. Fidgeting away. 
It’s three in the morning. But you are not sleepy at all. Even after a solid twelve hour afternoon shift. 
Oh, you should add more carrots into the twin’s lunch box….
You started making a mental listing of what you need to get from the grocery store tomorrow. Maybe that will tire your brain out and finally get some sleep. 
That wallpaper is peeling off slightly beside the window… need to get Simon to fix that.. 
Is Johnny and Emma coming over for lunch this Sunday?
Crap the electricity bill is due soon….
Ok, this isn’t working. Your mind is even more stimulated with all these questions and a list of chores in your head. 
Tucking yourself into the armchair beside the fireplace you just rekindled, armed with a generous mug of hot chocolate ( and maybe with a sneaky dash of whisky in it ) you set yourself about getting back into the historical romance novel you started a year ago but never had the time to finish. 
Turn to the left, fluffing up the pillow. Nope. Not helping either. You knew that extra cup of coffee after lunch wasn’t such a good idea.
Letting out a sigh, you finally accepted that you weren’t going to get any sleep that night.
Swinging your leg over the side of the bed, you shuffle towards the lounge chair beside the window, grabbing the hand knit throw over blanket Gaz made for you last winter. Draping it over your shoulder, and quietly slipping out of the room, without waking Simon up, down towards the kitchen. 
The heavy footsteps become more frantic, and you hear room doors opening and closing, and the person in question is running down the staircase. 
Barely three pages in, you heard stomping noise coming from the bedroom upstairs.
You set the book down,looking up, frowning. Is one of the twins awake? But the noise sounds like it’s coming from your shared bedroom with your husband. 
The next second, you saw Simon, shoulders uptight, breathing erratically, with tears streaming down his face. As soon as he spotted you curling up in the armchair, his beautiful brown eyes widened. Mixture of panic and relief evident in his eyes. Your heart aches at the sight. 
Simon calls out to you. Voice quivering, like a scared little child. 
Extending your hands, silently asking him what he needs.
He stares at you for the moment, before slowly moving towards you, kneeling down on both knees, enveloping his large, warm hand around yours.
“… Just want to feel you. Knowing you are here.” He whispered in a deep rumbling voice, tinged with sadness. “That you are real.” his voice broke into a sob. “ That you are alive.”
“ Oh love…” You immediately knew he had one of his nightmares again.  Flash back to the bombing incident. Death of his mother and brother’s family.
“I woke up, I couldn’t find you, you weren’t there in bed, I thought the worst…” grabbing onto your hands tighter as he poured out his fear, “I thought I failed you… Just like I failed my family… I got you killed.. And the twins.. The team…” He buried his face into your lap, trying hard to control his emotion.
It pains you to see him in such a vulnerable state. A side he never shows. Not even to his most trusted team mate.
But here, in front of you, he’s not the ruthless, fearsome Ghost.
Here, he is just Simon Riley, your companion, beloved husband. The men you trust with all your life.
And he loves and trusts you enough to pour his heart and fear out to you. Laying it bare. 
Pulling him up to a stand, giving him a kiss on the lip. “Come on, you should get some rest.”
Leaning forward you place a kiss on the back of his head, whispering into his ears, trying to reassure him, “I am here love. I am not going anywhere…” pulling one of your hands out from his grasp, you stroke his hair lightly, “You haven’t failed us. You saved my life that day. Both of us came home safe and sound to the children and the team at the end, right?”
Cupping his face and lifting his head up, you smiled gently, “It’s all behind us now Simon.” 
“You're not coming to bed with me?”  He asked in a small voice. 
Looking at the fireplace, “I can’t leave it burning overnight. Besides, I couldn’t sleep anyway, that’s why I am down here, reading a book.” pointing to the book and drink, abandoned on the side table. 
“Can I stay with you?”
That is how the twins found the two of you the next morning, sleeping on the lounge, wrapped up in thick blankets, with you cocooned in Simon’s embrace, with a contented smile on both of your faces. 
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The sweet twins woke both you and Simon up, with simple breakfast and tea all ready on the table for both of you.
tag:
@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world
@floral-force
@homicidal-slvt
@kaplerrr
@siilvan
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flowerandblood · 4 months
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Winter Drabbles Series
✨ small gifts from me to my beloved fans ✨
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» Graphic Headers for this Series «
Recently I have been writing a lot of long series from which I would like to take a break. I decided that I wanted to make shorter forms and the well-known drabbles seem to be the perfect excuse for it. I decided that in December (or at the end of November) I will publish 10 short forms, which − please note − will refer to your favorite series written by me! Below is a list of topics.
» The Longing «
The Impossible Choice
[ Aemond ✦ Targaryen x Baratheon! ✦ female ]
Aemond through his duties as the Hand of the King is unable to keep his promise and accompany his wife on her journey to Storms End. To his disappointment this does not stop her and she and their son leave for what seems to him an infinite amount of time.
» The Greed «
The Golden Cage
[ modern! mafia boss ✦ Aemond x female ]
Aemond wants to be the only thing occupying his girlfriend's thoughts. Although he expects her to pass her exams with good results at university, he also makes sure she doesn't forget her priorities and responsibilities − namely him.
» The Jealousy «
Rage | Revenge | Relief
[ modern! ✦ Aemond x stepsister! ✦ female ]
Aemond finally introduces his girlfriend (or actually his fiancée) to his older sibling. To his frustration, Aegon seems to enjoy this acquaintance more than he would like.
» The Bliss «
Green Snake, Red Lion
[ Slytherin ✦ Aemond x Gryffindor ✦ female ]
Solren is very stressed before her Potions exam. Aemond decides to make sure his girlfriend relaxes a bit.
» The Adoration «
The Evening Star
[ Hades ✦ Aemond x Persephone ✦ female ]
Hades decides to make his beloved wife a present worthy of her on the anniversary of her birth. Everything, including what they will do on the night, is to be a surprise.
» The Consolation «
Fair Play
[modern! ✦ Aemond x female ✦ volleyball players]
Her team loses in the national finals despite her hours of training and dedication. Her boyfriend, who unlike her has already won the championship with his team several times, decides to console her.
» The Shame «
Just this one time
[modern! ✦ Aemond x sexworker! ✦ female ]
Knowing that their relationship hasn't started in the way they would like, in an attempt to add a touch of normality they both so desire, they decide to go on a date and start things off as if they had never met before.
» The Devotion «
Wicked prayers, sweet peanences
[ priest ✦ Aemond x Strong! ✦ female ]
Although their family still cannot come to terms with his leaving the clerical state and his decision to remain in a relationship with his niece, Aemond has never felt better before in his life. He adores his most holy sacrament in his home in various more or less pious ways.
» The Care «
Glass Cuts Deepest
[ professor! ✦ Aemond x student! ✦ female ]
Aemond catches a cold, which makes him feel like these are the last days of his life. His fiancée helps him through these difficult times.
» The Trust «
The Girl With The Pearl Earring
[ modern! photographer ✦ Aemond x female ]
Aemond wants to take photos of his beloved muse in the open air. Naked. He assures her that no one will see her and he will make the best photograph of his career.
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kafus · 6 months
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i did some ridiculous technical BS in pokemon again
NOTE: not only is this post a very very long infodump from yours truly, it is also specifically an infodump involving a lot of pokemon glitches and exploits. even though i don't tamper with my games and everything achieved here can be done on original hardware with no hacking or what-have-you, some people still may consider this Cheating based on their own personal standards of legitimate gameplay. i ask that you please don't try to start arguments with me about pokemon legality and just take it all as an interesting technical infodump about gen 3 pokemon okay thank you <3
SO. i decided that before pokemon bank eventually shuts down one day in the probably-not-so-distant future and makes old gen transfer impossible, i need more ribbon master pokemon (AKA a pokemon with all the ribbons it can possibly receive from its gen of origin to the most recent gen it can transfer to) from gens 3 and 4. i've been meaning to ribbon master a pokemon from gen 3 based on my favorite singer, KAF (you don't need to know anything about kaf for this story whatsoever but you should check her out LMAO) and while musing over what pokemon would suit her best, it came to me.
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FARIGIRAF IS JUST KAF'S FURSONA!! the monster teeth hoodie with the eyes. even has the dangly bits. like come on it's perfect. AND girafarig is obviously available in gen 3 so i could RM a kaf girafarig and then evolve her once i got to SV. Cool! Awesome! but here's the problem. I CAN'T SETTLE FOR JUST A NORMAL GIRAFARIG. I HAVE TO GO ALL OUT!!
i started brainstorming my ideal gen 3 kaf girafarig, and came to the following conclusions:
i obviously want the girafarig to be shiny. i mean come on
i want her to be a girl for obvious reasons, and gentle nature to match her personality. just because Armor Tail is better on Farigiraf i also want it to have girafarig's second ability, Early Bird. i'm not concerned with IVs because i think random IVs add flavor and that would add more tedium than i was already dealing with
i want her to be japanese language origin since kaf is a japanese singer (i can nickname her かふ that way too!)
i want the original trainer (OT) name to be PPさん (PP-san) in reference to the person who scouted out kaf's talent in the first place - he goes by Piedpiper online and my friends and i call him PP as a joke sometimes
i want the trainer ID to be 02018 because 2018 is kaf's debut year
since girafarig only spawns in gen 3 in the ruby/sapphire/emerald safari zone, i wanted to hatch a girafarig egg in firered/leafgreen for the kanto origin, which is impossible otherwise. FRLG are also really important games to me, leafgreen being the first pokemon game i ever owned or played, so that's a bonus
now you may be looking at this entire list and being like. What the fuck. how do you intend to shiny hunt girafarig with all of these hyperspecific parameters, especially in FRLG where the everstone passing nature doesn't exist and flame body doesn't even exist to hatch eggs faster. you will be doing that long after bank shuts down. and you're intending on doing this on original hardware too??? WELL. that's where ACE and RNG manipulation comes in babey. i am GOING to attempt to make this comprehensible even if you've never touched ACE or RNG manip in your life, even tangentially, but sorry if this is a bit of a mess it's pretty technical LOL. the rest of this post is going below a cut cause it Goes Places!!
ACE and RNG manipulation explained (kinda)
first off a quick overview of ACE, ACE stands for arbitrary code execution, which is the ability to run your own (arbitrary!) code within the game. this can be set up with a series of elaborate glitches, that break open the gen 3 pokemon games into letting you run your PC box names as code, enabling you to do pretty much anything you want. to be upfront, i'm not an expert on ACE - i understand it in an overarching conceptual sense and am able to follow ACE guides just fine, but i cannot write my own ACE code, which essentially requires you to know some GBA assembly. doesn't really matter for the purpose of this story though.
you can see an example of a tiny snippet of a larger ACE code with the PC box name below. it looks like gibberish but that's because every character used in the name corresponds to a specific internal value, which when all run together, is code!
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i need ACE in FRLG because resetting for, or RNG manipulating (more on that in a moment), trainer ID (and secret ID, also more on that later) is pretty much impossible. ACE will allow me to change my TID to 02018 by essentially just telling the game to do so with my PC boxes. this requires me to set up ACE in emerald first since that's the only game with a viable entrypoint, and then use emerald ACE to make glitch pokemon that can activate ACE in FRLG when traded over.
as for RNG manipulation, that's a bit more straightforward, especially if you've ever watched a speedrun of... pretty much anything with random chance in it. games with random chance are not actually fully random because computers can't really be fully random, and in the older pokemon games with unencrypted and less advanced RNG (random number generator) algorithms, this is pretty easy to exploit.
this is a heavy simplification, but whenever you encounter a wild pokemon in RSE or FRLG, the amount of frames that have passed since the game was turned on are compared to a number that was generated upon boot, called the RNG seed. if you've ever played minecraft you can compare this to world seeds - the pokemon RNG seed determines all possible wild encounters in that play session in a similar fashion as minecraft determining the infinite terrain layout. this comparison determines every aspect of an encountered pokemon; its species, nature, IVs, and so on. so, if you were able to time your wild encounter (or any other type of pokemon encounter) down to the 1/60th of a second frame, you can get the game to spit out whatever pokemon you want at you! you just need a bit of typically invisible information first - the RNG seed, and if you're RNGing a shiny, your secret ID aka SID, which is like an invisible second trainer ID generated alongside your TID that is paired up with the TID and compared against any pokemon you encounter to determine if it should be shiny or not. both of these things can be figured out without hacking or tampering with games/save files.
the most common program used for all things RNG manipulation is called pokefinder and you can see an example of it spitting out what shinies are available on hoenn's first route in the first 100000 frames of the game being on with an RNG seed of 0 and my old TID/SID combo below. it's pretty damn cool to me tbh, i love RNG manipulation and i'm way more versed on it/experienced than i am with ACE
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TLDR; rng manipulation is essentially a frame perfect, speedrunning-adjacent trick to get the game to roll the RNG in your favor, including for perfect IVs or shininess. for reasons that will become clear later, this is much easier to do in emerald than any other gen 3 game, so i will be using emerald for the RNG manipulation of the girafarig egg
with ALL of that context out of the way, this was the gameplan:
play through a fresh file of japanese firered (i don't own japanese leafgreen, RIP) all the way through the postgame to unlock trading with hoenn with the name PPさん, not worrying about TID for now. the guide i was following did not have a code for changing name with ACE in japanese FRLG specifically, so i figured playing the game again real quick would be a better alternative to trying to teach myself assembly in an afternoon LOL
set up ACE in my new emerald file i completed recently
use ACE in emerald to generate the glitch pokemon needed to run ACE in FRLG and trade them over. finalize the setup process over in FRLG too
look up possible gentle, ability 2, female, and shiny egg frames, and pick one that looks good to RNG manipulate in emerald, noting its PID (an encounter-specific ID number, pretty much)
figure out what SID, when combined with a TID of 02018, will cause that egg frame to be shiny - that way when the egg is traded over and hatched in firered, it will be shiny
do the RNG in emerald, trade over the to-be-shiny egg to firered, and hatch it after changing the TID/SID with ACE appropriately!! bam female, gentle, early bird, shiny, JP origin girafarig with an OT of PPさん and a visible TID of 02018. Pog!!
to execute that gameplan would take me an entire day, though...
step 1: play through firered
ok gonna be honest this is the ONE part of this entire process that i did not play on original hardware. i wanted to get to the Cool Parts of this process so i decided to play through firered on emulator. absolutely terrible picture sorry but i do actually own japanese firered, so i could dump the game legally to my computer to use speedup in mGBA with a little device called the Joey JR which connects the cart to my computer by USB like so
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after that it was pretty much a relatively normal playthrough but obviously with emulator speedup. i used solely my starter blastoise to, well, blast through the rest of the game LMAO. after just a couple of hours or so i was right before the elite four, which i completed while in the car after moving the save file back to my cartridge with the same device, since i had to leave the house to go to a doctor appointment. i tried to take pictures of me beating the game but the sun was not doing the photos any favors lol. blastoise ended up being level 76 by the end. was easy with surf and an ice beam TM from the game corner (i just bought the coins)
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unfortunately beating the game isn't the only requirement for trading with the hoenn games, so i also had to complete the whole sevii islands postgame quest... which required me to have 60 registered owned entries in the pokedex, which i wasn't really doing while speeding through the game initially, so i had a lot of mons to catch. i was still out of the house at this point (and playing at normal speed lol) so i wasn't really taking pictures, but i did make a stop at the power plant to look for an electabuzz despite it being an inefficient 5% since i needed a spare anyways for my leafgreen file unrelated to this story lmao. took a pic of it since it took a while to show up. anyway soon enough the dex had 60+ entries! i've played FRLG so many times that the encounter locations are memorized in my mind... i did all of this with no googling asdfkasfd
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at this point i got home and was able to do the ruby/sapphire postgame quest on emulator with speedup again, so it was pretty easy. moved the save back to cart and i was done with step 1! obviously this didn't actually take me 21 hours of playtime, that was the emulator speedup's fault loool. from here on out i didn't touch any emulators again!
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step 2: set up ACE in emerald
ACE time! i've actually set up ACE in an old emerald file before but i wanted to do it again fresh. i was following a guide pretty much to a T so i'm actually going to skip over the details of some of the steps since you can read about those more in depth over at the guide i was using if you want
TLDR; you have to trade for the NPC trade pokemon, DOTS the seedot and PLUSES the plusle, then EV train DOTS a specific way. these EV values cause DOTS to turn into a glitch pokemon egg 0x0611 when corrupted with the pomeg glitch (more on that in a bit), which, when hatched, runs the PC box names as code, aka ACE! why does it work? if you really want to know, there's plenty of stuff online about it, i'm not the best person to ask haha
it's worth noting that volbeat is really annoying to capture in emerald as it's literally only available as a 1% in one patch of grass, so i caught an illumise instead and bred them until a volbeat hatched lol. was much more efficient
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also lol "Take good care of DOTS!" sorry i will be corrupting your son into demonspawn that lets me wield godlike control over your universe
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after getting the necessary NPC trade pokemon all ready and moving them into a specific pattern in box 2 (i cloned them with the emerald tower cloning glitch) i had to perform the pomeg glitch. this involves using a pomeg berry to decrease a pokemon's health to 0 without causing a whiteout. this is achieved by getting a pokemon with at least 8 HP EVs to 1 HP and then using the pomeg berry on it, decreasing the EVs and taking off a point of health in the process (it's slightly more steps than this but whatever). i decided to use the camerupt i had during my playthrough of the game for this purpose. just took him to fiery path to get poisoned and walked until he was on 1 HP and healed him with an antidote lol
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by doing the pomeg glitch and entering a wild battle, the game gets a bit confused since all the pokemon in your party are fainted and just sends out some sort of glitch decamark pokemon. in this situation, after viewing my camerupt's summary in battle and exiting back out of the summary screen, i was able to corrupt the DOTS and PLUSES sitting in my PC by scrolling up above the usual limit of the party menu, which reaches into data used by the first two PC boxes and fucks them up, ending up with, assuming that i EV trained correctly, a glitched egg that is about to hatch in a nest ball named DOTS with pokerus. this will run ACE when hatched! (if you want more info on this corruption pomeg stuff, check out the bulbapedia article for glitzer popping. yes that's what they named it)
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step 3: use emerald ACE to set up firered ACE
so once again you can find a lot more detail on this process over at the guide i was using, but the TLDR of the matter was, i needed to put a bunch of codes into my PC box names to generate a few different glitch mons. specifically, i needed a egg that would hatch into a crobat (yes, fully evolved lol) with a singular glitched out move, that when used in battle in firered, would cause ACE to happen similar to how hatching the corrupted DOTS egg causes ACE to happen in emerald. i also needed a specific buggy shiny umbreon and a very strange glitchy egg.
even though this step was mostly a lot of tedious typing on the gen 3 keyboard (+ i had to redo things once because i made a typo at one point in the process LOL) it was so much fun! the game breaks in so many ways that you would just... never see during normal gameplay and it makes for some really good pictures and whatnot
first of all, when you hatch the 0x0611 egg, it hatches into a decamark of varying colors, in the case of the picture below it's almost imperceptible because the whole sprite is just a black circle, blending in with the background (sorry for the quality on this one, it's a screencap of a video clip i took).
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additionally, trying to scroll over the hatched decamark in the PC or viewing its summary screen will crash the game, so to get rid of it, it has to be moved to the front of your party in the party menu, and then you go to the PC to release it through the deposit menu. since the cursor just defaults to the first position of the party and you don't have to scroll over to it, it's possible to release it from here.
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oh yes and the umbreon/other glitch egg? similarly screwy - actually after generating them, their sprites are glitched out until you reset the game, so they look like this. behold their nonsense summaries:
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after i had all i needed to trade to FRLG, i cloned an extra set of them with the emerald tower glitch again just in case i messed something up and got to trading! here's me receiving them on the firered side:
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and last but not least, i'm a little obsessed with the way the glitch move looks in FRLG on the hatched crobat, absolute nonsense:
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i finalized setting up the FRLG ACE (check out the guide i linked earlier for more info) and put everything into their proper positions, but before i could actually execute any code... i needed to know what SID i was going for!
step 4 + 5: look up potential egg frames in emerald and find an SID
soo now for looking at potential girafarig eggs. instead of using the program pokefinder which i mentioned earlier, i used a program called pokenav egg rng tool, which is exactly what it sounds like, a tool specialized for rng manipulating eggs with the pokenav in emerald. using it, i was quickly able to generate a whole list of gentle, female, ability 2 (early bird) eggs, and i picked one that was around 1300 frames in since that made for quick resetting attempts, but not so quick that i could barely make my inputs in time. the one i picked was frame 1381. with a TID of 02018, the PID D2C5EF55 would be shiny with an SID of 14962, so i noted that for later in firered. (i figured this out using an old program called RNG Reporter which is what i'm familiar with but i don't recommend using lmao. it's the "Pandora's Box" feature of that software though if you happen to look it up)
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i won't make an entire guide on how to do emerald egg RNG here because it's a lot of steps, but i might at some point because the most up to date method isn't super well documented. anyways, here's a very paraphrased version of the process (this is also assuming that you aren't dealing with "redraws", which i wasn't... like i said very paraphrased):
get a pokemon with the ability lightningrod in the front of your party (i used electrike) to make pokenav calls happen more frequently, and a pokemon with flame body or magma armor (i used slugma) to make eggs hatch faster
get a male and a female of the pokemon you want to hatch, in my case girafarig. if you were RNGing IVs, the parent's IVs would be relevant, but i am not RNGing IVs so i didn't care and just caught the first girafarig i could in the safari zone
an egg is attempted to be generated every 255 steps after the parents are deposited in the daycare together, so by timing the usage of a max repel in such a way, it's easy to save the game exactly 10 steps before an egg is generated. do this
using a timer such as eontimer, soft reset and try to take that last 10th step on your target frame. this will also trigger a pokenav call (or lack thereof) and by looking for the phone call you got in the call column of the egg rng tool and whether or not an egg generated at the daycare, you can tell what frame you hit. didn't hit your target? just soft reset and try again, calibrating the timer for your own human error. this can take a while since the timing is precise to 1/60th of a second
once you hit your target frame, woohoo you did it just take the egg and hatch it! if you're RNGing IVs you would actually save before taking the egg and then RNG the IVs separately but that's a whole different thing i'm not explaining here since i wasn't RNGing IVs
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i've avoided mentioning it this entire time till now, but emerald is particularly easy to do rng manipulation in because due to a programming error, the rng seed is always 0 - all encounters are predictable and you don't have to dedicate a frame perfect input to getting the right seed, making emerald rng a matter of one frame perfect input instead of two (there ARE ways to get emerald to generate a proper rng seed but that's unrelated here). additionally, its pokenav system means you can see if you got the right egg BEFORE taking it and hatching it... doing egg RNG in any other gen 3 game is basically a death sentence due to multiple untelegraphed frame perfect inputs that have to be executed in a row, plus really long wait times due to hatching eggs on a slower bike without flame body. there's a reason i was not doing this on four island in frlg.
but yeah now i knew what egg frame i was going for and was all prepared to do the RNG, so now it was onto actually executing it all:
step 6: getting kaf girafarig babey!!
before doing the RNG manipulation in emerald, i needed to change my SID and TID in firered finally! this required me to run two different codes, one for SID and one for TID. it was actually pretty painless since the code is nearly identical for both, you just swap out the values of each ID and one character changes in one box name to decide whether you're changing TID or SID. you can find the list of codes i was referencing here.
i was saving my one allotted video clip in this post for changing the TID with the glitched crobat move though because LMAO
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^ shoutout to my qpp @/spikyearr for this one i fucking chokedSKFDDSFK
anyway, after doing that i went through the process of the egg rng in emerald (unfortunately no pictures because it's kind of hard to take pics mid-rng) and actually saved before taking the egg so that i'd be able to soft reset after hatching it - i just needed to check to make sure it was gentle and everything, and then i could soft reset, take the egg again, bike around to decrease the egg cycles in emerald since hatching in firered is super slow, and then trade it off before hatching it to go be hatched in firered. i knew it wouldn't be shiny in emerald, so i wasn't concerned with that. it only took 40 or so minutes of attempts before i got her!
and then AT LAST after spending my ENTIRE DAY ON THIS SHIT (like 10x the amount of time on the ACE stuff for the TID instead of the actual RNG itself LOOOL) i just had to trade the egg to firered and hatch it and i was golden!!!!! AAAGH here she is next to my kaf plushies!!!
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also a picture of her summary screen after being traded to my english leafgreen!! i am assuming this will be easier to read for most of the people reading this post LOL
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THAT'S IT. POST OVER THIS WAS SO LONG. IF YOU MADE IT THROUGH MY RAMBLING GOOD JOB. I HIT THE PHOTO LIMIT HELP ME
anyways yeah i'm gonna be ribbon mastering her and idk i might post about the process as i go. not immediately though i have a platinum playthrough to finish teehee. also if any of this was interesting to you i highly recommend trying out RNG manipulation, it's a really fun way to play pokemon games! gen 5, BW specifically and not their sequels, is REALLY beginner friendly for RNG manipulation as the timing is a lot less precise. check it out, there's plenty of guides online!!
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hollyethecurious · 1 month
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CS AU: Pan Says... (8/?)
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Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.
A/N: Look at me getting another chapter up within a month of the previous update! I can't tell y'all how much your replies, reblogs, comments, likes, kudos have meant to me.
I have plotted out the remainder of this story and I believe we'll have 2-3 more chapters. It all depends on how wordy I get, lol. The muse has been very generous as of late, so fingers crossed that I can wrap this up before I need to work on my supernatural summer fic in earnest.
Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills!
Rated E /Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven
Chapter Prompts: I received a couple of prompts asking for the scenarios I've mentioned in this update. I have glanced over them a bit, though. I hope the prompters won't mind.
Warnings: Mentions of anal sex, edging, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism and voyeurism.
Part Eight
Killian collapsed back onto the bed, thoroughly spent and utterly exhausted. The mattress shook from the way Emma’s legs were quivering, her knees and upper body anchored to the bed with her ass in the air, still presented. The ass he’d just taken as a way of technically complying to Pan’s most recent command without actually doing the thing he knew Pan had meant for him to do.
Pan Says… come inside her this time.
The command had only been issued to Killian; a new twist to this particular round of the game. Instructions were given to only one of them at a time, usually when the other was in the lavatory or still asleep, and no longer delivered audibly. They were not permitted to share what the exact instruction was with each other, and had to therefore trust that their compliance to the other’s words was what Pan required.
The morning after their reunion was when it had all started. He’d come back from relieving himself to find Emma awake and looking slightly confused and distressed.
“Swan? What is it? What happened?”
“I… I can’t tell you,” she said. “He said I’m not supposed to tell you I just have to…”
Killian climbed back into bed and took her hand in his. “It’s alright, love,” he assured her. “Whatever it is he’s told you, you won’t have to go through it alone.”
Her eyes flicked up to his, swirling with contrition and a sense of determination. “I know,” she replied. Pushing against his chest, she forced him to lay back as she began to peel his pajama pants down his legs. “I need you to pay attention, because” she paused, swallowed hard, then wet her lips. “Swan says… everything I’m about to do to you, you will have to reciprocate in kind.”
Those next two days they had licked and kissed and sucked and branded and tongued every inch of each other. Exploring one another’s body with nothing more than their mouths.
The third day of Round Three had them experimenting with various toys and apparatus. He’d been told to edge her all day with the various wands and vibrators as she lay tied up from the four corners of the bed. It had been torture. Reducing her to a whimpering, begging, desperate collection of moans, tears, and sobs when all he wanted to do was alleviate the torment. But he’d dared not. Not after the last time they had disobeyed.
He was certain he would get his comeuppance on day four, especially when they woke to a basket of anal toys, in an assortment of styles and sizes. All Pan had required of them that day, however - delivered through a Swan Says… - was to shower and then fit each other with a plug, presumably to begin the process for more anal play later on.
Knowing they both had to be live wires of pent up sexual frustration by this point, day five had been mutual masturbation day.
“Your Captain says… touch yourself, love,” Killian instructed, stroking his cock as he watched Emma pleasure herself.
They had shared a total of eleven orgasms that day, and had become further acquainted with the various toys and butt plugs Pan insisted not go to waste.
Now, day six, Killian was allowed to penetrate his Swan with something other than his tongue or his fingers or a bit of vibrating silicone, but only under one condition… that he finish inside her.
Pan never said anything about it having to be in her cunt, so he’d taken advantage of the ambiguity by taking her ass instead, since they’d both been stretching and preparing themselves for anal play.
And fuck him if it hadn’t felt amazing - the defiance and the tight, forbidden depths in which he’d just spilled himself. Glancing over at Emma, her face shimmering from a sheen of sweat with an expression of sated and elated ecstasy, he knew she had enjoyed it too… but then of course, she did not know the full reason as to why he’d taken her ass and not her pussy.
She was no longer protected from the threat of an unwanted pregnancy.
“Wow,” Emma exhaled. “That was…”
“Don’t try and move too much,” he told her as he reached over and helped ease her into a more comfortable position. “Just rest. I’ll go get something to clean us up.”
“And some water,” she called out after him.
“Aye. And water,” he responded, as though he needed reminding.
He didn’t.
A week into Round Three and they had already settled into a routine. A week-long marathon of teasing, edging, training, and orgasms. A week of them taking orders from one another, of placing a new form of trust in the other’s hands. A week of them not talking about what had happened in the weeks before, or more to the point… the moments before this round had begun.
Swallowing thickly, he pulled back and softly whispered, “I love you, Emma.” Then captured her lips before she could reply.
“I think that’s enough sharing for one day,” Pan’s curt tone crackled over the speakers, forcing them apart. “In fact, Pan says no more talking until Round Three begins… which shall be first thing tomorrow morning. Sleep well.”
Killian’s jaw tightened as he watched Emma open and then close her mouth with longing and uncertainty swirling in her gaze. Squeezing his hand, she rolled off the bed and padded her way to the lav. Afterward, they both got dressed and curled up next to one another in bed, the silence between them deafening.
In the past week, she had not reciprocated those words and he had not uttered them again. Not because he hadn’t meant them, because he had. He did. He does. He regretted saying it, though. Regretted giving Pan more ammunition to use against them. Regretted having the memory of those words first said here, in this setting, under these circumstances. Regretted putting her on the spot when he knew, even if she felt the same, she couldn’t possibly be ready to say it back to him. And that was okay. He never wanted to push or pressure her, they had enough to contend with from the outside demands of their ‘host’. So, for now, all he wanted was to try and make things as easy for her as he could. To protect her and safeguard her to the best of his ability… even if that meant not talking about it and fucking her in the ass in order to keep her from getting pregnant.
“I have something special planned for you,” Pan said, startling him as they finished their aftercare routine. “But it requires a bit of a field trip.”
Confused, they both looked at one another then towards the door as it opened. Killian took her hand as they stood, placing himself in front of her as he always did when they were instructed to leave their cell.
“Pan says to follow the purple line until it ends, then wait for further instructions.”
The purple line? That was a new one. They’d never been instructed to follow that one before. He knew blue led to the showers, green to the rooftop terrace, and yellow to the room where he’d been injected with supposed poison after disobeying Pan’s rules. Emma had told him that she thought the Lost One had carried her along the red line when she’d been taken after their night of lovemaking, so Killian had deduced (and kept the knowledge to himself) that it had led to the medical procedure room.
Following the purple stripe to its unknown destination, Killian made a mental note of the route and cataloged it alongside the other colors. Of course, there was still an orange and black line. Their destination was also a mystery to him, which made making a mental map of the facility difficult, but he attempted to do so nonetheless.
The path ended in a narrow passageway in front of a pane of darkened glass. A hidden panel behind them slid closed, shutting them inside the dead end. Before either of them could question what was happening, the pane in front of them lit up. It wasn’t just glass. It was a window, looking out onto a circular room with tiers of seats that were shielded by thin, see-through screens, their occupants only noticeable in silhouette.
Emma reached out and banged on the window, trying to get someone’s attention, but her efforts were ignored. When someone did pass by - a woman donning an elaborate mask that hid her identity, but not her vanity - and paused to check her red hair, Killian realized…
“It’s a mirror,” he murmured. “A two-way mirror. They can’t see us.”
“Not yet, anyway.” Pan’s voice echoed through the small room. “Besides… their attention is focused elsewhere at the moment.”
Emma gasped, pulling Killian’s focus to where her wide eyes were trained. In the center, lowest level of the room was a rotating platform, and on that platform were two people engaging in various sex acts whilst the spectators behind the screens watched.
“What the fuck is this?”
“An intimate gathering I host one weekend of each month for like-minded friends. Three days of exhibitionist delights and debauched voyeuristic entertainment. This is the second night.”
He paused as dread rolled through Killian’s stomach. His next words made bile creep up his throat.
“You two will be night three’s entertainment.”
“Fuck that!”
“You can’t be bloody serious!”
“I am serious enough that I’m willing to offer you your reward before you meet the terms of my… request.”
Emma scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “There is nothing you could offer that would make either of us--”
“Not even a chance to reach out to your friends and family so you can inform them that you are not only alive, but also in need of their help?”
They both balked then stared at one another. He couldn’t be serious.
“Why would you let us do that?” Killian inquired.
“Because I require your full compliance so that my guests get the experience they’ve paid for. I am, therefore, prepared to compensate you accordingly.”
“In advance?” Emma clarified. “You’d risk us agreeing and notifying our loved ones of the truth only to back out later?”
Pan’s tone sent a chill up Killian’s spine and he knew Emma had been affected by the hushed warning as well.
“I would advise against such schemes. You do not wish to fathom how far I will go in punishing those who embarrass me in front of my guests.”
“What if we simply refuse all together?” Killian asked, knowing there had to be a penalty of equal weight to the reward being offered.
“Then your association with one another is of no further use to me, and I shall reassign you to partners with whom you might be a bit more agreeable to my requests.”
Emma pressed herself into Killian’s side as he protectively wrapped his arms around her waist. They clung to one another, each of them eyeing the door with the fear that it might open and Lost Ones would be waiting to pry them apart.
“The choice is yours,” Pan said. “I’ll give you some time to consider your options.” The panel slid open, revealing the corridor beyond. “Pan says to return to your room. Further information regarding tomorrow night’s entertainment will be waiting for you.”
~/~
Emma couldn’t stop the tremors coursing through her body. She wasn’t sure how she had made it back to their cell on such shaky legs, and the items awaiting them once they’d returned had done nothing to help alleviate her body’s physical response to the dread and anxiety overwhelming her.
In the center of the room was a table that held an old fashioned, corded phone. It had only three buttons on the dial panel; one labeled Nolan, one labeled Liam, and one labeled Decline. Next to the phone was a binder, and within it were the rules, expectations, and procedures for the night of entertainment she and Killian were meant to supply to Pan and his perverted guests.
A note also accompanied the binder. It read, Pan says to discuss the instructions in full before making your choice. Should you choose to comply, make your calls accordingly. Should you choose to decline, press the appropriate button and my Lost Ones will see to your reassignment.
“Say something,” Killian pleaded. Having read through the binder aloud, he’d tossed it over his shoulder then slumped forward with his head in his hands and his elbows braced against his knees.
“What is there to say?” she said, on the edge of panic. “We can’t refuse him. I can’t… I can’t lose you. I can’t let someone else… I can’t--”
“Hey. Hey, it’s alright,” he soothed, gathering her in his arms and cradling her against his chest. “I know.” His lips brushed the crown of her head and his chest rose and fell from a deep, fortifying breath. “But we have to discuss it. We have to talk it through. I won’t give him any reason to separate us. No loopholes.”
Emma nodded and pulled back so she could stare up into his face. “You’re right. We have to follow his instructions to the letter if we want to avoid penalty or punishment, and as much as I really don’t relish the idea of having to” -she gestured towards the binder- “do that. The idea of being forced apart makes me…”
“Aye. Me, too.” Reaching back he picked up the binder and opened it across his lap. “The good news is… none of the spectators are allowed to touch us or participate physically in any of the acts we perform on one another.”
“Yeah,” Emma groused. “They just get to dictate what acts we perform.”
Pan’s guests essentially got to be him for a night. Each of them would be able to make suggestions and vote on what sort of acts they wanted to see their entertainment perform on one another. Those requests would then be relayed to them through an ear bud or in some other manner.
Requests involving excessive violence or anything that might leave a permanent mark would not be permitted. She and Killian would have their identity obscured through the use of a domino mask and could opt to have an alias used in lieu of their actual names as well. Of course, they both had distinguishing features that could give away their identities, but what were the odds of them ever encountering these people again?
“Do you want to fill out the form first?” Killian asked, referring to the questionnaire Pan had provided, allowing them each to select up to ten items they absolutely would not consent to. “Or we could go over it together, if you’d prefer?”
If she’d prefer? Did it even matter anymore as to what she would prefer?
Emma’s chest tightened and her stomach dropped as the periphery of her vision darkened and blurred spots floated in her vision. A dull ringing began to develop in her ears, strengthening in its tone, pitch, and volume as the pressure in her lungs grew critical and she realized she’d been holding her breath. Rage bubbled up from her stomach and despair stung the corners of her eyes.
This was it, she realized. This was her breaking point. Emma had absolutely had enough.
Launching herself off the bed she stomped to the center of the room and rounded on Killian. “No! I don’t want to go over the questionnaire! I don’t want to discuss everything involved with tomorrow night’s entertainment! I don’t want to do any of this! I want to go home!”
Hysterics overtook her and she crumpled to the floor, but not before Killian wrapped her up in his arms to help break her fall. Clinging to him, she wept into his shoulder, her body practically convulsing from the release of pent up emotions and strain.
“I know, love,” Killian murmured, his voice tight and gravely from his own held back emotions. He continued to comfort her with soft words of nonsense as his hand caressed soothing circles over her back. After several long minutes, she could feel dampness against her hairline and when she pulled back to glance up, she found it was because Killian had started shedding tears of his own.
A few hiccups escaped her as she tried to calm herself. Killian’s hands cupped her face and he brushed away her tears with the pads of his thumbs before pressing his forehead to hers.
“Just you and me, love,” he whispered. “We will face this new degradation as we have all the others. Together.”
Pulling back, he brushed her hair away from her face, carding his fingers through the long strands and gently scratching her scalp in the way he knew she liked. “We will forget about Pan and those who have come to witness our debasement and focus only on one another. Aye?”
“Aye,” she replied in a sorry attempt to mimic his accent, which pulled a small smile from him. Flicking her gaze up to meet his, she said, “I’m sorry. I--”
“You never have to apologize to me, love,” he replied, wrapping her in his arms again and holding her tightly to his chest. “It’s a wonder we’ve both gone this long since our last breaking point.”
Emma laughed mirthlessly. He had a point. This certainly wasn’t the first time one of them had fallen to pieces and thrown a well deserved tantrum, allowing the homesickness, injustice, and despair to spill over from their boiling points. Allowing him to pick her up off the floor, she tried to bury the worry about whether or not it would be the last.
“What would you say,” Killian began, leading them back over to the bed and sitting them on the edge, “to us choosing our false names, our aliases as it were, and proceeding in those personas as a way of distancing ourselves from it?”
“You mean like… pretending this is all happening to someone else?”
“In a way.” Killian took her hand and threaded his fingers between hers. “It might allow us to… dissociate from having to fully experience it ourselves if we think about it happening to… The Captain and… whatever pseudonym you might select for yourself, instead.”
Emma rolled her bottom lips between her teeth and considered the suggestion. It would be like role play. The audience wouldn’t be seeing them, wouldn’t be controlling them, they’d be witnessing two characters crafted to play out a role that was separate from the actors themselves. The thought of that released a bit more of tension she was holding onto and an exhale passed over her lips, carrying her agreement.
“Yes. I like that idea.” Cocking her head to one side, she looked up at him with a teasing smirk and taunted, “The Captain?”
A blush bloomed across his cheeks and tinted the tips of his ears as he reached up to paw at the patch of skin behind his jawline. “Aye. Uh… I thought it might serve as a fitting moniker.”
“Hmmm,” Emma hummed with a coy glint in her eye. “I like it.” Wetting her lips, which almost always centered his focus on her mouth, Emma dipped her gaze then flicked it back up, peering at him from beneath her lashes as she sultrily inquired, “Would the Captain be agreeable to having a naughty Wench at his side for tomorrow’s night entertainment?”
A wicked smile stretched across his lips, and she could see the gleam of relief and pride flicker in his eyes before they turned dark and heated. “Oh, aye,” he replied in a deep timbre that damn near made her toes curl. “I think the Captain would enjoy a naughty Wench’s companionship very much indeed.” Plucking a paper from the binder, he held it out to her and with his Captain’s voice ordered, “Be a good little Wench and fill this out so your Captain knows all the deplorable things he’ll get to do to you.”
“Aye, aye… Captain.”
Part Nine - Coming Soon!
Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)
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lavenderacademia · 1 year
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🪐 ; planet: send me this emoji + a character on my writing list + any word of your choosing and i'll write you a ficlet using the word as a prompt!
cats + wednesday addams !
WEDNESDAY ADDAMS + CATS
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi hi hi this is so cute!! I'm not a cat person in the slightest (I'm one hundo percent a dog person tbh) but I can soooo imagine Wednesday having a black cat. I didn't know if you wanted me to add romance into it so I just tried to keep it plain simple, just using the prompts! I'm so sorry this took me so long to get to, I had some family emergencies come up really recently and so I haven't had much time to really sit down and work on anything other than school or family stuff. Hope you enjoy and thank you my love for the ask!
PAIRING: wednesday addams x gn!reader WARNINGS: cats (?? idk if that's a needed warning but I figured I'd list it anyway haha)
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Wednesday didn't take in strays. She was usually too busy with her own endeavors to really have time for them — you were the exception of course. But she liked having you around, and that made all the distance. So when the black cat appeared on her doorstep, staring up at her with big green eyes, she didn't need to think twice.
"Shoo. Go," she said monotonously, staring at the creature with disdain. When it refused to move, she made a shooing motion with her hands. "I said leave."
You appeared around the corner, your face twisted in a frown. "Who are you talking to?"
Wednesday stepped aside to reveal the cat on your doorstep and, to her surprise, you broke out into a massive grin. "Aw, look at the little guy!" you swooned, running over to pet the cat. It appeared friendly, nuzzling into your palm. "I wonder if he's lost?"
You searched for a collar, but none was found. "He might've run away," you suggested.
And Wednesday, who saw a new problem arising, was quick to shut you down. "He can find his way home. Leave him be."
A sudden crack of thunder rattled the window panes as the first drizzle of rain began to dot the sidewalk outside. The cat looked around at the worsening weather, then back at you, its wide eyes frightened. You looked up at Wednesday with a matching expression, your own eyes pleading her to let the cat stay. She let out an almost imperceptible sigh, then nodded for you to bring the cat in.
You smiled at her as you scooped the cat up, bringing him inside. Within a few hours the cat had been bathed, fed, and given a place to sleep. All the while you'd led him around the house, giving him a tour (as Wednesday watched, fuming, from the side). You'd murmur "Here, kitty," you coax him to room after room, speaking to him like he could understand you perfectly.
After a while you walked about the house, holding the cat in your arms like it was a baby. It seemed to enjoy this time of treatment as it pawed at your hair and clothes and nuzzled its head into the crook of your neck.
"I feel like we should give him a name in the meantime," you mused aloud, "so that we don't have to keep calling him kitty. I get the sense that he doesn't like it."
"Perhaps we should let it go, then." Wednesday said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Wouldn't want to wound its pride."
You ignored her, suddenly having a bright idea. "Why don't you give him a name, Wednesday? Just one that we can use before we go out and find his owners tomorrow."
Wednesday kept her stoic glare forward, causing you to pout. "Come on, look at this little face!" you said, turning the cat toward her and squishing its small cheeks. "This is the face of a cat that wants to be properly addressed."
Wednesday did not want pets. But she couldn't resist you.
"Poe," Wednesday said finally. "After Edgar Allen Poe."
You grinned at her. "I think it suits him."
You floated away then, Poe in hand, to introduce him to Thing. The two did not get along at first, with Thing being slightly afraid, slightly jealous. But, within minutes, Poe was chasing him around, playing a lighthearted game of tag. Wednesday watched as you sat on the floor, playing referee to the game, smiling all the while. She crossed her arms over her chest, determined not to enjoy the sight, but even she had to admit — the cat was kind of cute. Or maybe it was how much you liked the cat that was cute.
The next day, you went out about the neighborhood, knocking on doors, asking around, and putting up flyers that Thing had helped you make. No one claimed the cat, and no one rang your line to claim him. You had to negotiate with Wednesday to let Poe stay another day. Then another, and then another. No one asked after the cat.
Four days later you were on the couch, reading and drinking coffee, the cat curled into your side. Wednesday came and sat next to you, eyeing the cat carefully. "They've been known to eat their owners after they die," she said.
"That's only if they're starving," you replied without a beat. "Dogs could do the same thing. Or humans."
"Don't get so morbid with me — I'm not in the mood for romance." she said.
Poe suddenly stood, crawling away from his perch next to you and found his next interest in Wednesday, brushing his cheek against her black sweater. She looked down at him with disdain. "This won't work out for you."
You just chuckled to yourself. "You're communicating with him. It's the first step."
Wednesday looked up, alarmed. "First step to what?"
You just got up to refill your coffee mug, humming as you did so.
The days dragged on and Poe became a fixture in yours and Wednesday's house. More than once you had woken up to find him curled at the foot of your bed, purring softly as he slept.
And Wednesday was, against her own will, warming up to Poe. You'd catch her mindlessly petting his head when she thought you weren't looking. She'd even slip him treats secretly just to gain his favor.
Within a week, you were nearly convinced that Wednesday loved Poe just as much as you did. So you had to put it to the test.
One day you walked into the living room, where Wednesday was sat writing her novel, Poe curled at her feet. You sighed sadly. "Wednesday, I've been thinking, and you're right — we can't take care of a pet. I think it's time we take Poe to a shelter, don't you think?"
Wednesday turned, eyes wide. You blinked. "Do you disagree?"
Wordlessly, Wednesday bent down and scooped Poe up, holding him tightly to her chest. "He stays."
You just smiled in satisfaction, nodding once. You sat down next to her, petting Poe softly. "How could I have seen that coming?"
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sesamestreep · 2 months
Text
30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 6
Write about a blackout (from this list) ➸ totally cheating once again and using this as a one-word prompt instead of probably how it was intended??? oh well. have some canon-verse angst and I’m sorry…
“Do you want to know the stupidest part?”
Foggy looks over at Matt, who’s hunched over his drink like someone might steal it from him. Then again, the fake IDs that got them into this bar were honestly not the highest quality, so it’s not an entirely baseless fear.
“Granted you’ve told me like three details total about what happened between you and Elektra, I will take any additional information you want to divulge, stupid or otherwise.”
Matt blinks at him with hollow eyes. “You just said a lot of words to me.”
Foggy sighs. “What’s the stupidest part, Matt?”
“I thought—it’s just—you’re going to think I’m a moron.”
“I won’t,” Foggy says, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. “I think you’re extremely smart, buddy. You might be the smartest person I know, okay? Just tell me. I promise I won’t judge.”
Matt looks so utterly fragile and lost in that moment that Foggy honestly doesn’t want to hear what’s going to come out of his mouth next, because he just knows it will break his heart. It’s been hard seeing Matt in such bad shape and to know almost nothing about what happened between him and his girlfriend after he’d disappeared with her for two weeks. Foggy had been a wreck about it, beside himself with worry and yet without a legitimate reason to excuse himself from classes and responsibilities, so he’d walked around for those two weeks like a shell, keeping up appearances, until Matt came back. His relief at his reappearance was quickly replaced by a new kind of worry, when he saw how miserable and unstable Matt was in the wake of…whatever happened. Matt still couldn’t be induced by any means to give Foggy a straight answer on that count.
“I thought I was going to marry her,” Matt says, quietly. If Foggy hadn’t been actively trying to hear him, that statement would have been lost to the noise of the bar.
“That’s not stupid at all,” Foggy says, allowing the hand on Matt’s shoulder to slip over to rub his back between his shoulder blades.
“I thought she was my soulmate,” Matt adds, with some vitriol, in the direction of his drink, like he wants to spit the words in there to drown them.
“She wasn’t,” Foggy replies, firmly, because it seems like the right thing to say up until Matt’s face crumples.
“I think she was,” he says, miserably, as he buries his face in his hands. “I think she was and she left anyway and that’s it for me.”
“I don’t—hey, listen, Matt,” Foggy says, shifting his chair over so he can wrap his arms around Matt’s shoulders completely. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I said she—I didn’t know her that well. Maybe she was your soulmate. I don’t know! I’m not convinced that’s anything but a nice story we like to tell ourselves to make life more bearable or to impose meaning on random events.”
“This pep talk sucks,” Matt says, in the vicinity of Foggy’s collar. Foggy can feel his breath on his neck and it’s weird but not enough to get him to move away.
“Sorry. What I mean to say is, if soulmates are real, and Elektra was yours, then it’s not over yet. Maybe you’ll meet again someday.”
“I hope not,” Matt says, darkly.
Foggy resists the urge to roll his eyes at yet another vague but still concerning allusion to this terrible breakup. He’s trying to be sympathetic but Matt’s whole Catholic guilt lone wolf shit does test him sometimes, if he’s being honest. Still, one look at Matt’s pale, sorrowful face in the neon lights of this dive bar is enough to remind Foggy what they’re doing here.
“I think it’s much more likely that, if we have soulmates at all, we probably get more than one,” Foggy continues, hoping that if he just muses vaguely enough, he’ll stumble on something that makes Matt feel better. “So, you’ll get another chance to—”
“You mean like you and me?” Matt asks, and Foggy’s brain does a full factory reset as he tries to parse that question. He can’t possibly mean…
“Oh, like—yeah, you and me and, well, everybody could have more than one soulmate. Exactly.”
“No, that’s not—” Matt shakes his head, which, given his current position, is functionally just nuzzling his face into Foggy’s neck. “I mean, how you and me are soulmates. Kind of.”
“You and me?” Foggy asks, casually despite not feeling casual at all. “You think so?”
“You’re—yeah. I mean, you’re basically—you’re family to me but…also more than that. If that makes sense.”
It doesn’t and Foggy’s been holding himself back from drinking too much tonight because he wants to be able to get Matt home safely, but he does feel like he might throw up on this table right now. He tucked away the part of him that found Matt attractive somewhere deep and secret and well-fortified in his soul a long time ago, in the interest of not fucking things up with his best friend in the entire world, and he certainly can’t trust anything Matt says now when he’s drunk and lonely and heartbroken. But he’s never loved anyone as completely as he loves Matt and it’s such a pathetic, hopeless situation that he doesn’t let himself think about it except on really special occasions when he wants to feel bad.
“I’m not sure anybody has ever loved me as much as you do,” Matt says, like it’s not a crazy thing to say, here in a shitty bar near campus, after a breakup with his girlfriend, to someone he’s never even kissed.
“I doubt that,” Foggy says, even as he, selfishly, wants to claim it, even as he knows it to be true. “You’re very lovable.”
“We should get married.”
Foggy laughs, because what else can he do, under the circumstances. “Now? It’s pretty late. The courthouse won’t even be open.”
“No, I mean, we should get married someday,” Matt says, petulant like Foggy’s the one being ridiculous here for not following his thought process. “When we’re older. If we haven’t met anybody else.”
That last condition is enough to break Foggy’s heart all over again, but he does an admirable job hiding it, he thinks. Matt’s drunk and very distracted, and more importantly doesn’t know anything about how Foggy feels, really, despite his proclamations on the subject a moment ago, so it feels safe to assume he won’t notice any signs of disappointment or hurt in this split second before Foggy swallows those feelings and pretends to be his usual upbeat self. That’s who Matt really needs right now, and so that’s who he’ll be.
“How much older?” Foggy asks.
“Old,” Matt says. “Like, thirty.”
“Okay,” Foggy nods, already able to find this funny. Matt won’t still be single by the time they’re both thirty. He’ll be married by the time they graduate law school, most likely, so it won’t be an issue. Foggy doesn’t like to think about it, but he knows it’s true.
“You’ll do it?”
“Maybe,” Foggy says. “Ask me again when you’re not blackout drunk.”
“I’m fine,” Matt objects. “I’m not blackout. Not even close.”
“Then we can pick this conversation up in the morning, no problem!”
Matt nods, drunkenly. “Absolutely.”
Matt doesn’t bring it up in the morning, of course. Foggy never really expected he would, either, and doesn’t permit himself to be disappointed about it, no matter how much he would like to.
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jelzorz · 4 months
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You don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for you to say that (i do—and it’s been about 20 months lmao)
Continuation of ia67? Please? 🥺
166.
do you know how far I had to scroll for this @captainjamba??? Rest of the series linked here for convenience
The Katolis Symphonic Orchestra has a Christmas concert every year. Usually it's all the classic stuff: arrangements of Silent Night, and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas that are easily recognisable and never fail, and it's, y'know, fun and all but the classics are getting a bit too classic, even for Callum. Opeli is a bit like that as a conductor: straight laced and maybe a bit too serious, which is why this year's set list is such a shock when it's sent out to him that afternoon.
It's Wednesday, and Barius' cafe is packed given it's the awkward time of two PM. It's been, what, almost two years since that Valentine's Day he came here with Rayla after rehearsal, and busy rehearsal schedules aside, it's been a pretty good two years. Rayla disappears in the early mornings for rehearsals at the studio, and Callum isn't home until nine on some nights because so many of his own rehearsals are after work (the KSO is great, but it doesn't quite manage all the bills), but they've made it work, and Callum would rather work around the weird hours than not be with her at all.
This life suits them. He hopes it will for a while yet.
The bell at the cafe door rings, and Callum looks up and grins when he spots Rayla in the doorway brushing snow off her coat. He stands as she edges her way through the crowd towards him. "Hey," he greets brightly, leaning over the table for a kiss. "How was your day?"
Rayla grimaces. "Eh."
"That bad?"
She pauses. The way her brow furrows over her eyes says it all.
Callum frowns. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I—" Rayla presses her lips together and takes a breath. "If I had to move, would you move with me?"
There's a pause. A long pause. Callum studies her over the menu on the fake-marble tabletop. "Would you want me to move with you?"
"I—" Rayla sighs and fiddles with a napkin. "I couldn't ask you to," she says quietly. "Things are going so well with the KSO, and you're sharing first chair with Claudia now, and things are good here, so I wouldn't—couldn't ask you to leave all of that behind for me, but..." She blinks like she wants to cry. "The director of Spire Ballet called me today. They've got an opening for a principal, and they want—they want me to come and audition."
"What?" Callum's lips twitch upwards. "Rayla that's amazing!"
"But I'd have to leave—"
"And I'd go with you," says Callum firmly. "No question about it. No doubt in my mind. I'd go with you if you wanted it."
"But—the KSO," says Rayla. "All your friends and family, your brother, how could I ask you to—"
"You aren't asking me," says Callum. "They don't need me. They've got Claudia. And you—" He reaches for her hands across the table and presses her knuckles against his lips. "I'd be a shit violinist without my muse."
That draws a laugh out of her, and Callum grins, pleased he managed it. "Callum..."
"I'd go with you," he says again. "Always. Wherever you went—as long as you want me along."
Another pause. Rayla blinks and lets herself smile a little more genuinely. "Really?"
"Really."
Rayla swallows and grips his hand tighter. "It's just an audition for now. I just..."
"You don't have to explain," he says. "I can see how much you want this. You deserve it. And if we have to move, we will. Okay?"
"Okay." Rayla grins at him at last, the first hints of excitement lighting her eyes. Callum's heart warms at the sight of it, which only strengthens his resolve. "Sorry," she adds. "I didn't mean to ambush you like that. It's... a bit of a shake-up, y'know?"
"Oh I know," chuckles Callum. "KSO's getting one too. Look at our setlist." He slides his phone over to her to let her see, and Rayla barks out a laugh.
"Sleigh Ride?" She squawks. "The ridiculous one with the horsey-trumpet at the end? That Sleigh Ride? That's not Opeli's style, what's gotten into her?"
"I dunno," says Callum with a laugh. "Maybe it's just a good time for change."
Rayla grins and slides his phone back. "Maybe so."
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sydsaint · 2 months
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Summary: The reader is Shawn's assistant for NXT having an out-of-control night. Luckily for her, Ilja is always around to lend a helping hand and charming word where he can.
You rush into the building clutching an overflowing briefcase of files in one hand and your bag in the other. Your security badge swings violently against your chest as you weave through backstage personnel in a desperate attempt to make it to Shawn's office before he notices your absence.
You reach Shawn's office huffing and puffing like an animal. You shoulder through the door and thankfully find the room empty. "Oh thank god, I made it." You let out a shakey sigh and hurry over to your desk.
You set your stuff down and take a second to compose yourself. While you're catching your breath, the doorknob turns signaling that someone is coming in. You quickly scramble to your feet ready to greet who is surely Shawn arriving for the night.
"Oh, Ilja." Your rigid posture relaxes when the current NXT champion steps through the door. "Good evening." You sink back down into your chair with another sigh.
"Good evening, YN, my dear." Ilja flashes a debonaire smile at you as he aproaches your desk. "I saw you rushing across the loading bay earlier." He explains. "So I assumed that you could use a little pick-me-up before our night begins." He reveals a cup of hot coffee from catering in his hand.
You eye the coffee with a grateful smile and gladly take it from Ilja's hands. "Oh, thank you so much, Ilja." You thank him. "This is just what I needed after all that running I just did." You muse.
Ilja chuckles at your joke and nods. "I was happy to help, YN." He assures you. "Now! I will let you get back to work. Please do take care, my dear. And perhaps we will see one another again tonight." He bows his head at you with charming smile before turning and exiting the room.
You watch Ilja shut the door behind him and feel blush creeping up your neck. You've been hit on plenty of times by some of the NXT superstarts since you took this job as Shawn's assistant. But none of them have the charm and poetic way with words that Dragonuv does.
A few minutes later Shawn finally arrives and greets you as he comes into the room. "Evening, YN." He nods as he passes your desk.
"Evening, boss." You nod back at him, pretending to be enthralled with the various paperwork at your desk.
"YN, remind me what we've got scheduled for tonight." Shawn asks you as he makes his way around his much larger desk at the back of the room.
You nod and dig around for tonights schedule. Once you've located the paper you're looking for you rise from your seat and walk over to Shawn's desk.
"We've got two more Dusty cup matches tonight. Both Semi-finals. Roxanne Perez and Cora Jade have a match scheduled. Chase University also have a tag match against Gallus. As well as a few backstage segments and promo's being filmed." You read everything on the list before handing it to Shawn. "Oh! And you have a conferene call with Hunter in 15 minutes." You add.
"Right, conference call." Shawn sighs and glosses over the paper. "I want you out at the producers table while I'm on the call." He informs you. "Just in case something happens that would otherwise warrant my attention."
You nod and walk back over to your desk to get some work done before Shawn's conference call. "No problem, boss."
You reply to a few emails and fill out a paper or two before it comes time for Shawns conference call. Shawn gets ready to take the call and you dismiss yourself out to the producers table backstage.
"Hey, guys." You greet everyone at the table once you've arrived backstage. "Shawn is busy taking an important call so he's left me in charge in case anything goes down while he's busy." You explain as you take a seat at the table.
The others nod and everyone gets back to work. You sit and watch the action in the ring for while before you grow thirsty and decide to grab a water from the table on the other side of the room.
You are retreiving said water when Ilja happens through the room after filming a short backstage promo for the show. "YN, darling!" He greets you with a wide smile and walks over.
"Ilja! Hello again." You smile right back at him. "How are you since we last talked? Everything go well with your backstage promo?" You ask him.
"It went fine." Ilja nods. "And I'm looking forward to facing Trick Williams in the ring here in a couple of weeks." He adds.
You nod in agreement and take a sip of your water. "I'm sure it'll be a great match to watch."
"How are you?" Ilja asks you after a moment. "Shawn isn't working you too hard is he?" He lightheartedly jokes.
"Not at all." You giggle. "The job can be hard at times, yeah. But I do love my work." You assure Ilja. "Plus, I have noticed a certain someone is always nearby to make my day better." You grin at him.
Ilja chuckles and nods. "It's my pleasure, YN. Anything I can do to ensure that stunning smile graces your lovely features, my dear."
You begin to blush again and bow your head in embarassment. "Ilja." You giggle to yourself when someone from the producers table begins beckoning you back to work. "Sorry, I should get back." You sheepishly dismiss yourself.
"Of course." Ilja nods and steps out of the way. "I'd never dream of keeping you from your work. Have a wonderful rest of your night, YN." He flashes you one last frustratingly charming smile.
"You too, Ilja." You nod and hurry back off to the producer's table blushing like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.
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